#the way she talks about him keeping an open mind as if he is the only one who has reasons to think badly of Tom

[angevinyaoiz]

Was compelled by these tags but I wanted to put my personal analysis here! Trying to keep it strictly based on the events of the movie and not on pure speculation or external historical stuff, bc I think they do a LOT of interesting things in this short scene and what it implies about the Richard and Philip and Henry (and Louis) relationship dynamics.

I think because this happened right after his back and forth with Henry where Philip felt like he was getting somewhere until Henry did his whole smug ass "Haha I win I squeezed all the information out of you ;D goodnight!" It made him jump out of his more calculated "facts and logic" mode and into a more deeper sense of his burning resentment and inferiority complex, hence the whole "you made my father nothing...and then you made him love you for it" speech. Love is kind of established as a sign of weakness and submission, even if in this case it's not in a romantic context. Louis is a "loving man" who (in the world of TLIW) gets taken advantage of by Pushy men like Henry and Philip is frustrated with that weakness. And so when Henry smugly reveals he was just probing Philip for info, Philip feels like he is "losing" and being demeaned again and so decides to pull out his secret weapon.....His Super Special Scandalous Information jfjdif to throw more fuel on the fire.

Course the main thing is Henry isn't even that scandalized like you said ("Richard finds his way into so many legends, let's hear yours" and in the play after the telling he's just like "I've heard better" lmfao...3 out of 5 stars. Also let's not forget he's also a boydiddler too from his speech to Alais in the opening scene. The royal corkscrew is NOT easily shocked!!). Philip is playing an interesting paradox where he's basically framing Richard as the Older Predatory type taking advantage of him, but also Richard is simultaneously Pathetic and weak at the same time for caring so much about not just sex presumably but wanting to be loved and desired. Philip also casts himself as the Victim in this scenario, as the younger, innocent and un-desiring party, but also positions himself as being the strong-willed clear-headed one where it's like "yes I succumbed ...but NOT because I was too Weak to Resist or out of Fear but because it was my Genius Long Game Plan All Along."

Why does he do this??? I would say like earlier, it was kind of his last card to play in their battle of wills, and allowed him to feel like he had a one-up on Henry after Henry had been smugly putting him down the whole day. I feel the purpose of this is similar to Eleanor's outburst about fucking Henry's father later in the film. Where it really doesn't do anything helpful for her, since he just leaves to do his thing. but in the moment is an emotional weapon that she knows will hurt him. Also there's something fun and cathartic about both Philip and Eleanor's outbursts where after a long day of conniving they really relish in talking about Being Bad in a more straightforward way. For Philip it does end up being helpful in that it sets the ball rolling to reveal all the sonbetrayals in the room and gets the feelings all heightened and sows distrust amongst the family.

Also, to get a bit more speculative, but still basing strictly off what is in the earlier scenes: in the end we don't know the truth of what happened between him and Richard in the forest during the event that he recounted, or what his true feelings are. I personally feel what is implied from his earlier interactions with Richard is that there was a sincere emotional connection, and that they did both miss each other during their time apart. There's implied also a little frustration on Philip's part over Richard not keeping contact and maintaining their friendship after the marriage. But also I sort of interpret it as he wanted to reframe the story in his mind as well, maybe to himself, in a way where he comes out of it feeling like he had control over the situation, especially if their encounters were really as dubiously consensual as he implies it as being. If he did love Richard at some point, that would mean he was the one being "weak" like his father, and so to be strong and be a man and respected ruler ("No man's boy" as he keeps Insisting Very Hard in public the whole movie), he can't afford to indulge in affection the same way. The sexual element just adds another layer that, viewing both from the medieval and 1960s homophobia POV, is already assumed to be deviant and something to distance one's self from. If having the affair with Richard was only A Genius Plan to Sabotage Henry all along, with only Disgust and No Real Feelings of Affection Ever, then he can manage to wiggle out of being implicated or having any responsibility for Sodomybehaviors while pinning all the shame onto Richard (and by extension, Henry.)

So the motivation I can see as being a mix of being mad at the history of Henry overpowering his father and belittling him, being conflicted with Richard for either 1) taking advantage of him back then or 2) having had maybe for real a pleasant affair but getting ghosted 3) most likely a mix of the two. Whatever the case, his main goal was to destabilize Henry and it fit into that goal, so he just poured some extra oil on the fire I guess XD

*in some ways, it's a very 60s homophobia more than a medieval kind, since I feel in early and medieval era there's nothing that would feel off about intense emotional, borderline romantic love between men if expressed in specific socially approved venues. but in modern times even emotional affection is an expression of weakness and timidity, or if a sign of a separate lesser identity being revealed, as how it is portrayed in this movie. The sexual element as deviant is important to the luridity but the part Philip emphasizes as particularly shameful is the vulnerability of asking for love from a man and wanting it returned.

a king like you has policy prepared on everything. well, what’s the official line on sodomy? how stands the crown on boys who do with boys?

THE LION IN WINTER 1968 | dir. anthony harvey

[gojos-version]

Consume me.

Pairings- Y/N x Mafia Au! Sukuna

Summary- You're the daughter of a famous mafia boss and your dad wants to cooperate with Sukuna and make a deal, you hate Sukuna. You’re about to make his life a living hell.

Warnings- y/n being bratty and a bad bitch, brat taming, unprotected sex, breeding, tummy bulge (per usual), masturbation, blood and death mentioned (not in detail or much)

Word count- 8k

Proof read- ✅

A/n- Omg this took me so long because ive been so busy and i knew it was gonna be such a long fic, but i hope this tickles your pickle :3 Have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

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Sukuna. That name brought fear to many people. He was a well-known Mafia boss, he lived by his rules, he didn't like something? It was fixed immediately. He doesn't like someone, or someone messes up? They’re dead. He’s a very fierce man and its risky that even right now your father wants to make a deal with him, to get more respect he says. 

Sukuna was the one person you had the least respect for, he was cruel and heartless, and you'd prefer to avoid him at all costs if you could. His face was covered in tattoos and so was the rest of his body, he had piercings and honestly he was intimidating. But… he also made you feel things you shouldn’t be feeling. Maybe it was the way he carried himself that you found attractive? You weren’t sure but you hate him. Your dad was a big mafia boss but not as big as Sukuna, his business was huge.

Knock knock.

Your head perks up from your book; “Yes?”, your dad’s assistant opens the door; “Your father requests to speak with you.”, “Alright I’ll be down.” With that she nods her head and closes the door. You sigh and twist your body to slide off your bed, slipping your slippers on you open the door and walk down the stairs to your dad’s office. You knock on the door and he shouts a ‘Come in!’ And you do, when you open the door you did not except to see a tall man with pink hair, tattoos and in a black suit sitting in front of your dad.

Sukuna?? Why the fuck was he here. Your heart drops and you swallow thickly, he shoots you a smirk that makes your blood boils. “What is it that you wanted, father?”, “Take a seat, I want to talk to you about a few things. Including our guest, don’t be rude, Y/n.”, “I don’t see why we have to discuss things in front of our guest. Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You cross your arms, leaning back on the door. “Oh don’t mind me.” Sukunas deep voice rings out and you glare at him, “Who said you were apart of this conversation?”, “Ohhoho! Quite the mouth on you!” He laughs, leaning back in his chair and your dad’s expression becomes stern, “Y/n. What did I say.”, your eye twitches with annoyance and you scoff; “I’d rather talk in private, dad.”

Your dad sighs in annoyance and Sukuna grins, laying back more in his chair. “Like I said, don’t mind me sweetheart.” You huff, “Let me guess, we’re working with Sukuna now?”, “Yes, so I hope you’ll be nice a- “, “Greatttttt!” You say with fake enthusiasm, and you see Sukuna's jaw clench. Ha. Y/n 1 Sukuna 0. You turn to walk out and freeze feeling a strong presence behind you and a large hand on your shoulder, “Listen brat, you don’t want to piss me off. If you keep provoking me, I can and I will destroy your father’s corporation. You don’t want that now do you?”, Sukuna's deep voice whispers into your ear and you shiver.

“Of course you would, you have no heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a robot. You wouldn’t do shit to us.” You sneered back, yeah it was risky but how dare a man try to speak you down and threaten you? Excuse him?? Sukuna chuckles darkly, “A robot huh? Li- “, “Y/n apologize to our guest right now.” Your dad cuts Sukuna off (without knowing what he was saying), saying nothing you shrug off Sukuna's shoulder and open the door, shutting it harshly behind you and going back to your room.

You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling and sighing softly. You really hope Sukuna isn’t around much. You were hoping to avoid him as much as possible, any interaction with him made your blood boil and your thighs squish together. You hated him and you hated how he made your body tingle. You hated how turned on you got by his stupid face and how curious you were of him. You wanted more, you wanted to know more, why was he stoic? What’s really under that tough demeanor? That heartless man. Why was he heartless? You ached to know more but you couldn’t fucking stand him. You really didn’t like him. No matter what your body felt you really really didn’t like him.

Ding!

A text message? From who?

Dad <3 - Y/n, Sukuna will be around a lot, so you better behave and be nice. He’s doing good for us, I expect to hear that you apologized before tonight, no arguments.

You grunt and close your phone, turning to your side. Maybe you’ll go out tonight. Yeah. That's a good idea. You send a message to your group chat asking to hang out at a bar and before you know it they reply with a “Let’s get shitfaced girls!”, you chuckle and slide off your bed; to your wardrobe. You could be sexy, slutty or modest. You hum to yourself; it wouldn’t hurt to be a mix of sexy and slutty tonight. It’d be nice to get laid; especially after today. You decide on a dark red dress, it stopped mid-thigh and showed just the right amount of cleavage and hugged your curves juustt right. You slip on a black leather jacket, tights and black boots, opting for a red bag to balance it out. You do your hair and makeup and smile at the mirror. You felt good. You looked good.

As you open the door and walk down the steps you did not expect Sukuna to still be here. At the dining table??? You try to sneak past them; hoping they wouldn’t notice you. “And where might you be going?” A dark voice rings out. That annoying deep voice. That belonged to that stupid pink haired man with tattoos. “It’s none of your business I’m afraid.” You reply coolly, “Y/n. I told you to be nice.” Your dad scolds, “Dad, I’m going out.” Your dad glares at you and you simply walk off, tired of the conversation; you ignore the loud shouts of your name and sigh as you walk out the door. You drag your feet into your car, telling your driver where to take you.

You swallow thickly and bundle your skirt into your clenched hands, sighing in frustration. You pick your phone up to see your best friend; Shoko calling you. "Shoko! Hey girl.", "Y/n how far are you?? Please, Satoru's annoying me." She whines into the phone, and you bark out a laugh; "I just left. Dad was being difficult. I should be there very soon." You reassure her and she grumbles a 'Hurry up before I kill him' before hanging up.

You smile in contentment lean your head against the window; looking out in the distance while your driver takes you to the bar. You honestly thought it'd be just the 'girls' but it seems Satoru and Suguru weaved their way into yours, Shoko and Utahime's plans. more company the better honestly.

Before you know it, the cars stopped Infront of the club; "Miss do you want me to escort you?", your driver asks and you shake your head; "It's alright, I'll message you if I need anything and when I want to be picked up." Thats the last thing you say before sliding out of the car and feeling the cool air kiss your warm skin.

Ouch the weather wasn't as nice as you thought it was. You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk into the club, instantly the smell of sweat, lust and alcohol fill your senses. Yeah, you're definitely going to need a drink. As you walk towards the bar you instantly spot Shoko, Utahime and Satoru drunk off their minds dancing around and Suguru sitting on the bar and drinking.

"Long time no see." You greet sitting next to him, "You finally made it. These idiots got drunk so quickly.", "I can tell. How have you been though, Suguru?" You say as you order a drink, leaning your back against the counter and crossing a leg over the other having your elbows resting on the counter behind you.

"Not too bad, it's been hectic because works been stressful.", "Thats rough, work sucks." You sympathize; "How about you? Any life updates?" He asks laughing softly at the others dancing their asses off. Man, it was going to be a long night. "Terrible. My dad made a deal with Sukuna and for some reason he's around my house. a lot.", Suguru almost spits out his drink in surprise, "Shit what!? You're kidding.", "I wish I was. doesn't help he keeps talking to me too." You sip your drink, frowning at the memory.

"Doesn't... Sukuna like not talk to his client's kids or anything? Doesn't he just keep it strict and just talk to let's say just your dad in this situation. Usually, he stays at his own abode too." He ponders and your blood runs cold. wait. he's right. "Wait why would he be interested in me...? How the fuck do I get out of this mess? Shit Suguru what do I do." You panic and scull your drink.

"Don't worry, I think it's a good thing he's taken a liking to you. if he didn't, he'd probably would've killed you already." He reassures you and sigh. "I don't even want to be involved with him." Suguru nods his head in understanding, before he could respond though a drunk Shoko and Satoru run over to you; having finally noticed your arrival.

"You're here!!! Girl, I've missed you!!" Shoko exclaims, a bit too loudly for your liking and throws her arms around you; practically sitting on your lap. "Y/N!! Hi!!!!!!" Well. that makes both Satoru and Shoko smothering you. "Hey guys, kind of can't breathe right now with both of you squishing me." You laugh out but nevertheless hug them back.

"What tookkk you sooo loonnggg!" Satoru slurs out taking his drink from before and sculling the entire thing. "Girl shit." You respond, "You do not need to drink more." Suguru scolds taking the now empty glass away from him and Satoru pouts and complains in response.

"Giirrrllll any new news???? Any dick you're getting???" Shoko slurs in your ear; still over you. "I'll tell you when you're sober, girl", "NO tell me noooowwwwww", you sigh knowing she won't give up. "Dad made a deal with Sukuna." as soon as those words left your mouth she jumps back in shock and falls on the ground.

"Are you ok-", "NO WAY THE SUKUNA???", "Shhhh!!!" Thank God everyone was too drunk to give a shit. You help her up and drown another drink. you really want to get shitfaced tonight.

Few drinks later <3

You don't know when you started dancing with a random guy. you don't know who he is or what his name is. all you know is everything's blurry and dizzy and you're having the best time of your life. Your arms wrap around his neck and your lips are a bit too close to his. He slurs something drunkenly and you faintly make out the words must've been a 'you're so beautiful'. Your lips unconsciously lean towards his, both of you breathing heavily against each other. Before he can lean in and take your lips on his, a loud bang! fills your ears. wait. Where did his head go?

You look down at your clothes and they're covered in... blood...? What...? You freeze as everyone around you starts screaming and running out of the club, the guys now limp headless body falls at your feet, and you don't know how to react. when it all processes you feel adrenaline rush through your veins.

Where are your friends? You shakily walk towards the exit and see a familiar pink hair, tattooed tall man. Wait a minute... is that...? You blink a few times and he's gone. "Y/n!! Are you okay??" You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder, you turn to him and see Shoko and Satoru hanging off him, Utahime was hanging off of Shoko.

You wordlessly nod your head and your drivers here? Didn't you say you'd text him when you're ready?? You open the door and motion for Suguru to put the others in the car, you help him put your friends in the backseats. You sit in the front seat next to your driver; "I didn't tell you to pick me up. But please take my friends to their houses." You manage to utter out.

He nods and the car starts going on its journey. You can't stop thinking that murder had to have been from Sukuna. but why? Why would he murder the guy you were dancing with. Why did he even care?? A "Miss, drink some water to sober up." Cuts you out of your thoughts. It was hard to focus on everything with how much alcohol you took in. But you drank as much water as you could. After drinking your water, you head rests against the head rest, and you shut your eyes briefly.

Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You blearily blink your eyes open, trying to adjust to the sunlight pouring through your room. What time was it? How did you end up...in your bed...? Maybe your driver put you in your bed. You shrug it off and slowly sit up. Fuck your head hurt. You didn't have enough water in time. Your head was throbbing as you turned your head to look at your nightstand. Water and pain killers? I mean that's thoughtful, but no one really does that for you. then again you don't usually pass out in the car.

You took the painkillers and drank the water, putting your slippers on and robe as you slowly made your way towards the door. You just realized. someone was murdered in front of you yesterday. Wait when the fuck were you in your PJ's? And the blood from your face and body is gone??

Your heart races for a minute and you try to shrug it off as maybe you didn't remember getting changed or one of the female maids did it for you while you were sleeping. Right...? You open the door and slowly make your way down the steps towards the kitchen. Coffee. And water. Thats what you need right now. you fixed your hair and by the time you reached the bottom of the stairs; There was your dad and of course Sukuna. Sukuna. Why was he here?

"Mornin' Princess, Woke up late today, huh?" Ugh that stupid annoying deep voice. it fills your head, and you ignore him, walking past him and filling a cup of water, drowning it and filling it up again. "Y/n. I told you not to be ru-", "Nah its fine. She looks hungover.", "So that's where she went huh."

Come on brain. Remember. Right, Pink hair and tattoos and a dead guy. Yep. Common duo. "Sukuna, you did that last night, didn't you?" You deadpan, turning around and leaning your lower back against the counter, water in your hand, sipping and waiting for a response.

He looks shocked for a split second but covers it up quickly, "Oh? Where?" His head leans to the side giving you a look of 'I dare you to continue'. You smirk, walking closer to him. "The man you murdered at the club. Infront of me. What was that about, hm? Got jealous I gave someone else my attention and not you?" You dad stays silent, flabbergasted and oh Sukuna just glares at you.

"Why would I be jealous?", "You're not denying you murdered a guy at the club last night." You slam your hand down in front of him on the table and lean your face close to his, and your breasts right in his field of view. His eyes flicker from them to your face a few times, "You just happened to distract my target.", "Oh? I did a background check on the people at the club on my way there. He was a normal citizen." Your face gets closer to his and you're smirking, eyes narrowed as you egg him on.

Fuck does he look pissed off right now. But...there's another emotion you can see in his eyes, but you can't pinpoint it. Is it surprise? Intrigue? Lust? Who knows. You had him cornered both physically and mentally right now and he honestly had no option but to confess.

"Come on Ryomen. Give us the truth." You whisper in his ear, "You-" He seethes, and you cut him off by barking out a loud laugh, his hands were gripping the arm rests of his seat. How amusing. Without another word you trot off with a slight sway in your hips. You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head while you did walk off.

Time skip <3

You're laying on your bed listening to music while writing in your diary, ranting about Sukuna and other random things. It's 9pm before you know it. Maybe you'll just stay in tonight and have a self-care day. yeah. that sounds pretty good. you shut your diary and shove it under your pillow, going to the bathroom and running a bath.

You get your necessities and sit on the sink while the bath fills up. What you didn't know however was that Sukuna went in your room, wanting to give you a rough talking to; to find you not in your room. He hums and looks around, taking it in. your pillow messily placed catches his eyes and he lifts it to see your diary.

His brows furrow as he opens the book. 'Maybe she writes stories or draws? Why do I even care.' As he flicks through it, he sees his name written. hm? What's this? A smirk makes way on his face as he takes your diary and leaves your room, making sure everything was as you left it.

You sink into the bath you set and shut your eyes at the warm sensation. what should you do about him? There's no way he has to be over this much for a business deal. Maybe you're overthinking it too much. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, enjoying your soak in the bath. Hopefully tomorrow you'll be given a job to do.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open and it's still dark outside? You twist your body and slide off the bed, slipping your robe on and your slippers. 5:30am. Great. You walk towards the kitchen and notice someone…sitting? On the table with their feet up?? Who on earth was up at this time of night???? When you get a bit closer you notice the familiar pink hair and tattoos. Ugh. Why the hell was Sukuna here and awake at 5 in the damn morning. “Why are you here at 5 in the morning?” Your soft voice rings out making him look up from what he was reading. “Why are you up at 5 in the morning?” He sasses back and your eye twitches in frustration. “I live here, and you don’t. Why are you here at 5 in the morning, Sukuna.”, “Ouch back to Sukuna huh?” And oh, you wish you could wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face.

“Answer the question.” You say with a blank expression and sit across him. He sits forward and puts the book next to him, leaning his chin on his palm. Why did that book look so familiar? “Because your dad needs me, so I decided I’ll be staying here a while.”, “What book are you reading?” You ask, your heart rate picking up because it looked a lot like your handwriting. No wonder why your pillow felt too comfortable. He stands up and makes his way behind your seat, leaning next to your left ear. “You think I’m so hot, huh? You even want me to dick you down, yet you act like you hate me.” His hand snakes slowly around your neck, applying some pressure and you gasp. “You want me to choke your pretty throat huh?” His hand snakes up to your chin and his thumb strokes your cheek.

“That was private.” You grumble out, panting softly. “Oh? Yet you’re such a little fucking slut. Thought you could fool me hm?” Your hand snaps out and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. Still holding his wrist, you stand up and turn to face him, with your free hand you grip his face and mush his cheeks together. “You're too bold. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been watching me when you think I’m not watching. Or my used panties that have slowly been going missing. You’re not slick, Ryomen.” His eyes narrow and you laugh. “And you call me the slut. You’re the perv around here.”

He snarls and you walk away from him turning the coffee machine on. Your hands grip the counter when you feel his half hard cock push against your ass. “What are you- “, “Shut up. You’re such a fucking brat.” He pushes your head down and you grunt when your cheek makes contact with the cold counter. “C’mon doll you know you fuckin’ want me.” You smirk having an idea come into your head. Without saying anything you grind your ass against his clothed cock which is now hard and fuck you can feel how hard it is. You circle your hips, and he lets out a grunt in response.

You move your robe up exposing your now soaked panties, rubbing against his soaked pants for more friction. You wiggle your ass, teasing him. “Come on big boy. Do something, can’t leave a girl hanging now, can you?” You press harder against him and a breathy whimper escapes his lips. “You…” Fuck his voice sounds so raspy and you’re clenching around nothing. One of his hands shakily squeeze your ass and fuck right now you want him to fuck the living shit out of you. No. Y/n. You wanted him to be the one begging for you remember? You wanted him to be so down bad for you he’d go insane. Fuck this isn't good. You shiver slightly when your cunt makes a honeyed gush of wet arousal ruining your panties further. You feel his thick thumb run up and down on your clothed, soaked slit making goosebumps erupt all over you in response.

“Fuck…” he moans, “You’re so fucking soaked.”, and finally he removes his hand off your head. Both of his thumbs make contact with your slit through your panties and his thumbs sink into your hole, spreading you open through your panties and the moan he lets out? Worth it. You muffle your own moans behind your mouth with watery eyes. You stand up and pull away from him, grabbing his arms and pinning him to the counter. “What a naughty boy you are.” You tsk, “Already trying to fuck me before taking me to dinner? Chivalry is dead.”

You release his arms and grab a mug, pouring yourself coffee, desperately trying to distract yourself from how fucking wet you felt. You notice how he stays quiet, his eyes following your figure with every move you make. “What's got you so quiet, hm?”, You look over at him and notice a…blush? Covering his cheeks and ears? Now that was a rare sight. “I-uh- “He cuts himself off and storms off. What was that about?? You shrug it off and sit at the table. Of course, your diary was gone. Fuck your panties were clinging onto your soppy cunt. You quickly drown the rest of your coffee and head to your room.

You slip your now completely soaked panties off and grab your vibrator from under your bed, sitting on your bed you lay on your back and spread your legs; circling the toy up and down your leaking slit and clit, repeating the motion a few times. You slowly sink the toy into your needy cunt and line up the clit sucking part of the vibrator onto your clit. Turning it on makes you sigh in relief as the vibrations ease your neediness.

You moan softly as you move the bottom part of the vibrator in and out of your hole, your free hand fondling your tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples. Your legs shake as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm, your moans increasing as you move the toy faster, the vibrations and the heat from the vibrator making your head roll back into your pillow. You gasp wildly as your walls clamp around it, making your body tingle. You felt the knot in your tummy tighten as you cum hard around it, your walls spasming around your vibrator. fuck. you never come this quickly.

Shit. You still felt so turned on. You continue thrusting the toy in and out of you making your toes curl. You needed more. You needed Sukuna. You needed him so deep inside of you. Focusing on your own pleasure you couldn't hear Sukuna fisting himself with his ear to your door, your used panties over his nose as he inhales your scent. Hs entire body felt like it was on fire, burning with need while he pumped his cock imagining it was your wet, sopping cunt instead. Shit he felt so close, his thighs and abbs tensing in response as he cums harshly all over his hand and arm, his free hand muffling his mouth to not let any pathetic noises escape. Sukuna doesn't come that quickly. Not usually. He breathes heavily listening to your wet squelches and moans through the door. He wanted you so badly it hurt so much.

You’re not sure how much times you’ve cummed now, but you have a feeling Sukuna’s behind your door. For a while now you’ve been making sure your sounds are extra loud for him. Your body aches as you pull your now dead vibrator out of you, with shaky legs you slip your robe on and go into your bathroom, washing it and running yourself a bath. You put your vibrator on charge, hiding it and opening your door. You find nothing there but a large wet spot. You laugh to yourself knowing he was cumming hard to your sounds.

You shut your door and shrug your robe off, lighting a candle and sinking into the bath as you think of what to do. It’s around 7:40am now. “Y/n! I’ve got a job for you today!” Your dad’s voice sounds out, “I’ll send you the details!”, “Okay!” You yell out and smile. Finally, some action around here.

Time skip <3

You just finished your job. It was easy honestly but it’s raining and your new gown you got for the job has bloodstains. Oh well. If it’s washed properly, it shouldn’t be a problem. You’re waiting for your driver to come but… it feels like he’s late. Or maybe you’re being impatient? Ring ring! Ring ring! You look down at your phone, a call from…Sukuna? Why him? You sigh and answer, “What do you want.”, “where are you? Give me your coordinates. Now.”, you send him your location; “Why? What’s wrong?”, “Enemies of mine are looking for you. Your dad’s safe with me. If your driver or car shows up do not enter the vehicle, if anything hide till I get to you.”, “What do you mean enemies? What the fucks going on, Ryomen?” You stop talking when you notice your car. Your drivers car. Pull up in front of you. You stand still, motionless waiting for their first move.

“Y/n? Fucking answer me!”, You hang up the phone call, with your free hand you slowly snake your hand behind you, going up your thigh and grabbing your gun and throwing knives. Adrenaline floods through your veins when the car honks its horn. Your driver never honks the horn at you. With a beat of silence your eyes focus on the guns in the back aiming at you. Fuck. If you’re not quick, you’ll end up dead in about 2 seconds. Your eyes flit to your bag on the ground next to you. Perfect. You drop your phone onto your bag and run, hiding behind the tree near the entrance, with a quick motion you aim and blow the tires of the car. These fuckers aren’t leaving here alive.

You grab your throwing knives and wait. The people in the car shooting wildly now have the windows broken, and perfectly open for you. Idiots. You smirk and throw 2 knives hitting both of the people in the front seat in the head, instantly killing them.

Fuck. Now probably like 4 people in the back. Great. How long is Sukuna going to take? You hide behind the tree. Why does your mind keep travelling back to him? Those stupid tattoos. Those stupid piercings and his stupid pink hair. That stupid smirk he always gives you. Your heart rate picks up, why can’t you focus? You try to force yourself to focus on the dire situation at hand right now but the way he pressed your cock against you this morning. His thick hands...shit.

Why are you thinking of Sukuna? Sukuna… Sukuna.. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

Time skip <3

Your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar tattoos and pink hair. Sukuna. “Took you long enough.” His voice fills your head, and you blink confusedly at him. “Huh? What happened?”, you go to sit up, but he puts a hand to your chest and keeps you from moving. "I came as quick as I could. They didn't touch you. They've been dealt with so do not worry." Without saying anything, both your hands grip his face and pull him closer to you. "What are y-", "Why are you in my head so much. it's like you're possessing me. What do you want from me, Ryomen Sukuna. Why did you have to come into my life." Your nails dig into his cheeks. His eyes widen in shock and... confusion?

Before he could respond you're out cold and he's left to think about what you said.

A few weeks later <3

It's been a few weeks since you've seen Sukuna. You've asked your dad where he went, and he said he has his own business to do. You couldn't find him anywhere, not even on any tracker or through anyone. it's like he left without a trace.

It's cold tonight. You look out the balcony and ignore the chilling cold breeze. It was a nice night tonight. The sounds of the night and traffic fill your ears and head leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe he'll come back? Pink hair...stupid tattoos...

"Didn't miss me too much now did you?" That deep voice. That familiar deep voice sounds through your ears, and you turn around so quick you almost fell over. Pink hair. Stupid tattoos.

"Where have you been? It's been weeks. What were you doing?" You question, watching as he comes closer to you. He was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand makes contact with your cheek, cupping it softly. Being soft wasn't Sukuna's style. You look into his eyes and see him frowning in thought. Sukuna disappeared for a while ever since you said you can't get him off your mind and here he was out of no where. He had some time to himself to reflect and try to get his feelings in check back to being heartless and cold. That didn't work. He couldn't stand anymore time away from you.

"It was not my intention to worry you." He thumbs your bottom lip, making your heart speed up. He looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world. You notice his gaze fixed on your lips and your eyes can't help but flit to his plush lips too. Your hands come up and cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "What were you doing? Why'd you leave without saying anything?", You demand. "Thought you hated me, princess.", "Shut up. "

The air around the two of you is thick, the both of you staring at each other's lips and heavy breathing, his hand on your cheek and both of yours cupping his face. Before you could blink Sukuna smashes his lips onto yours, his soft lips engulfing yours.

His tongue explores your mouth, shoving your tongue under his as he licks the cervices of your mouth, occasionally wrapping his tongue around yours. Your whimpers are swallowed up by his mouth greedily devouring yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull his body flush with yours; his hands move down to your waist and grip harshly. He moves you impossibly closer to him, his hands now gripping your ass. Fuck your entire body feels like it's been lit on fire, electricity courses through your veins like small sparks exploding throughout your body continuously.

Your lungs burn from the lack of air, but you don't want to stop. Not when you feel so good, not when you finally had Sukuna. He breathily pulls away from your lips, “Jump.” He orders, you comply and jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You start nipping at his neck while he carries you to your bed, softly placing you down and hovering on top of you. He looked so fucking good in his black suit. The rings he was wearing was doing things to you; you never thought you would feel from something so simple.

“Consume me.” You say softly, his eyes take you in, puffy lips, your nightgown haphazardly on you, your thighs squishing together and your hair disheveled. You were looking at him like you were going to explode if he didn’t touch you right now. He laughs and opens your robe, “Nothing underneath? What a slut. Did you know I was going to see you tonight?”, “Just a hunch.” your fingers were itching to grab him and pull him on you, but you fought the urge to. Wordlessly, his lips meet yours again; his tongue mapping out your entire mouth while his hands make contact with your breasts. He squishes them making the both of you moan into each other's mouths.

"Want me to consume you, huh?" He laughs, putting pressure as his hands trail down slowly from your breasts down to your belly button. "Possess me. I haven't been able to think of anyone or anything else besides you till you came into my life. You own me, Ryomen." With that you see a feral glint in his eyes as he shreds his blazer and top off, revealing...tattoos on his upper arms..chest..oh fuck. your cunt gushes out a wave of wetness pathetically making your slick drip down your thighs and onto the bed bellow you- making a wet spot.

"I can't fuckin wait. Waited long enough, brat. Can't say things like that and get away with it." He gruffs out and shreds his lower half bare. Thigh tattoos too? Fuck you think you just combusted right then and there. He pushes your thighs to your chest as he bites and sucks on your neck making you mewl in response. "Please. I need you so bad, please." You beg out, you don't even know what you're begging for at this point. For him to fuck you? Bite you? Him in general? Not even you know the answer. Maybe it was all.

He lines his cock in front of your entrance, and he rubs his leaky tip against your slit up to bumping your clit which makes you clench around nothing in response. His repeats the action a few times till he couldn't handle feeling your walls twitching against him any longer.

He sinks half of his hard cock inside of your sopping pussy, "it's all in." he lies, fuck it was so much. "F-fuck you're so t-thick" you manage to whimper out as he thrusts half of his dick in. You don't know its half but fuck it had your toes curling. "S-suk-una-! A-angh!!" you cry out and he buries his head in your neck and bites hard.

You gasp wildly and moan at the sensation because when Sukuna bites, he bites hard. He keeps your legs pinned to your chest and he finally thrusts the rest of his thick length inside of you making your walls clamp wildly and a shocked expression take over on your face, your eyes widening as you struggle to catch your breath. "W-what-! A-ah! Angh! K-kuna-!" And that fucker laughs at you. He starts ramming his stupidly big cock with harsh force making your eyes roll back and drool seep out of your agape mouth. "Yeah, that's it, fuckin take it." he grunts. The aroma of the candles you had lit and the open balcony with Sukuna fucking you stupid stimulated you and your mind so much to the point you felt like you were going to go insane.

He sits up and wraps a hand around your neck, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure on the column of your neck, rubbing his thumb up and down. Your walls convulse against him making him moan out in surprise. You make a mental note to do that more often. Without warning his hips somehow move faster and his free hand roughly grabs your tit, pinching your nipple. Fuck you couldn't even move, all you could do was just take it.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when the hand that was on your tit trails down to your stomach, his hips were smack into yours with need that made your entire body jerk up, his hand on your neck being the only thing to stabilize you. His cock was bruising your cervix with each harsh slap of his hips against yours, you could literally feel his mushroomed tip trying to rip through your stomach.

It was like his dick was trying to make a hole through your stomach so it could say hello to you. Fuck the bulge he was causing made you shake and wither around him and when he noticed it? That only made him go crazier. "Fuck..." his lips part and he lets out a low breaths grunt, "Fucking that's it." that's the last thing you blearily hear before your face is in the pillows and your ass in the air.

When the fuck did he flip us over? You don't have time to think before he drives his cock back inside of you and his thrusts are merciless. His hands grip the globes of your ass cheeks, and he spreads them harshly, exposing your tight ass hole. The cold air makes you shiver, and you almost feel your consciousness slipping. You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face because the only thing you could focus on was his dick rearranging your guts.

Your body feels like it's on fire, your senses full of him. Sukuna was all you could feel. All you could smell. All you could see, his image planted in your mind like it meant to be. It's like you could feel his entire soul.

His thumb circles your ass, hell his fucking thumb is bigger than your ass's hole. The hand that's not on your ass grabs your hair and pulks your face up. He leans over your body; basically, squishing it and presses his nose to your neck, "I have to fucking consume you. You know your little hole? Yeah? 'M going to make that mine too." Fuck you could die right now.

You try to speak but all that come out of your mouth is stuttered desperate gasps of breaths and choked moans, you claw desperately at the sheets and try to crawl away, his cock now half inside of you when you feel your body have a fire sensation spread throughout it.

"T-too m-much- angh!! " You manage to whimper out and oh does he look pissed off. One arm wraps around your shoulders and the other grips your waist and slides you back all the way down to the hilt of his cock. "You're not escaping me." He gruffs out and presses on the bulge in your stomach while he desperately yet sloppily slaps his hips into yours.

The knot in your tummy snaps and you don't cum, no, you squirt so hard all over his tummy, pelvis and thighs to the point your mouth was agape in a silent scream, your eyes clamp shut and you see pure white. "F-fuck-shit-y/n-" Sukuna moans out while he fills you up so much.

Your head felt dizzy, your body trembling into the mattress, you feel his surprisingly still hard cock slip out of you; his cum slowly dribbling out of you. "Don't think we're done, brat. Not after how much you pissed me off with your attitude.", You feel your heart drop. What. You weren't done? A rush of adrenaline rushes through your veins and you freeze when you feel his thick hands spread the globes of your ass cheeks.

"Told you, 'M gonna fuckin' consume you.", His gruff voice rings out and he runs his finger along your puffy, soaked folds- collecting the slick to lube your ass up. Once your holes wet enough, he slides a thick finger in, and you hear him laugh from how greedily your hole sucks his finger up. "N-not- funny-!" You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you shove your head in the pillow bellow you. It felt like a weird sensation. "Mm lets see if you can take another one.", Before you can react, he sinks in another finger inside of you making you mewl out in response.

He chuckles darkly before sliding in another finger- 3 fingers in total- and you felt like you were going to explode. With a slosh and a pop! he removes his fingers, and you shiver in response. "'Kuna- You don't have to-", "Zip it." You bite your lip when you feel his fat tip make contact with your hole.

Fuck it was too much. Without warning he slowly sinks his length into your tiny hole, shoving your head further into the pillow while you whimpered and moaned wildly. You hear him gasp and he lets a whimper slip out when he's all the way to the hilt.

Your eyes clench shut and your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck yeah...that's it..." He breathily grunts out and slowly rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the feeling. That doesn't last long though. He starts slamming his hips against yours as he holds your head down making you squirm and sob into the pillow.

"Fuckin' brat. Take it without cryin'." He spits out and lands a harsh spank to your ass making your entire body jolt and he palms where he slapped as a silent apology. He leans his entire body weight on top of yours while messily smacking his hips onto yours.

Your moans and cries are muffled and your entire body's tingling from both exhaustion and pleasure. The hand that's not still holding your head down snakes down to your puffy clit and he pinches it making you jolt your hips towards his. Wet sounds and skin slapping against each other filled the room along with his gasps and moans and your muffled screams.

Gripping the back of your hair he pulls your head up and bites your jaw, "'K-kuun-na-! A-Angh!!! P-pleeaaaseee-! O-ooohhhh!! Mfph!!!" Sukuna cut your blabbering off by shoving his fingers in your mouth causing you to make gurgling noises around them. His balls were slapping against your clit while he thrusted with all of his strength into you. "Fuckin' too loud. Be quiet or I'll stop fuckin' ya." At that you mouth clamps around his fingers, and you desperately try to stop yourself from screaming at how good you felt.

"I-I- shit..." He gasps, his throbbing cock twitched inside of you, and he felt his abs and thighs tense up. He was oh so close to coming inside of you. With his assault on your clit and his fingers massaging your slacked jaw mouth you felt the knot in your tummy snap as your eyes rolled back and your walls clamp around his cock. You hear him let out a strangled moan and gasp in your ear as you squirted messily all over his sensitive cock.

"Fuckin- shit-A-angh!" That's the last thing you could hear and the only thing you could feel was his leaky cock filling your ass up before your vision blackened and your body slumped against the pillow.

Sukuna can't move. He stays inside of you unmoving for a while, catching his breath and shaking slightly. Fuck. You were all he could think about, your skin, the way you looked at him, the way you shook, the way your cunt clenched around his flaccid cock. Your stupid smile. Your bratty attitude. How you looked when you were on a job. How you looked when you were at home.

Fuck. Just you. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

You consumed him just as much as he consumed you. His head felt dizzy, still inside of you his body slumps softly on top of yours. He doesn't even have any energy to move. Sukuna felt so warm inside it scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel warm. He was supposed to be cold hearted. It scared him how much you made him feel.

Your scent and just you in general overwhelmed his senses making his body erupt in goose bumps and shiver. Maybe consuming each other wasn't so bad.

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩｡˚ ⋆

Masterlist<3

Taglist :P

@my-own-au-my-way

[coqhee]

TEASER: BRIDGE TO YOUR HEART 𓂃 박종성

✷ your love life was never something of concern, at least for you. so what happens when you catch the eye of the star baseball player for your university, make you a deal to fake date to keep both your families at bay, but what if pretending starts to feel a little too real?

baseball player jay︲fem reader ︲fluff, romance, angst, he fell first, she fell harder, college au, fake dating au︲pet names, grammar errors, cursing, kissing, skinship, miscommunication / more

RELEASE DATE: TBD

COLLECTION MASTERLIST HERE

taglist is OPEN send an ask or reply to this post to be added

─── ♡

jay was a fool.

anyone in his friend group could tell how smitten he was when he first saw you on campus.

from the way he always stopped in his tracks just for his eyes to follow you all around, to the way he changed the path he took to his classes just so he could admire you for a second longer. it was “shorter”, because that’s the excuse anyone who wants just moments longer to stare at their crush says.

some would say he had a cute crush on a girl, others would say he had a mind boggling horrendous fat crush on you.

regardless of whichever would be true (leaning towards the second option), he had a crush. “embarrassingly pathetic” is how his friend’s would put it.

it was the way you didn’t even notice him, the star pitcher everyone couldn’t stop talking about. jay wasn’t used to being invisible, however, to you, he might as well not have been going to the same college to start.

he could’ve been demotivated, but when jay had his mind set on love, he was tunnel visioned in on it.

you however, couldn’t care less…at least that’s what you said before. you knew about his tragic and undying crush, but you had a mission; academics first.

but when your parents start pestering you about settling down after you finish your senior year in college all of a sudden, he’s no longer just a background character in your go-getter of a life.

suddenly he’s become a main character…to fool your parents.

“fake date me, it works for me and you,” he says and all of a sudden, that’s become your reality.

the subtle hint in his tone to what the months ahead may allude to raise some suspicion, but hey at least your parents won’t be on your back anymore.

─── ♡

a/n: 3rd installment of to:your heart is on the way!! 1-3 weeks out per usual :) make sure to join the taglist!!

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved.

[uhbambii]

A Quiet Morning in the Dellamorte Villa

The dawn light crept through the gauzy curtains of the Dellamorte villa, painting the bedroom in soft golds and shadows. Rook stirred beneath the weight of the silk sheets, her hair spilling across the pillow. Her eyes opened slowly, the remnants of a rare, peaceful sleep fading as her gaze landed on the man beside her.

Lucanis Dellamorte, famed heir to one of the most dangerous families and a Crow through and through, lay sprawled on his back, his sharp features softened by sleep. His dark hair framed his face in messy strands, and his angular jaw was shadowed with faint stubble. Despite the peaceful scene, there was something distinctly Lucanis about the way he lay there—an awareness in his stillness, a subtle control even in his rest. He was never really unguarded.

Rook allowed herself a moment to admire him, a rare indulgence. The two of them were not exactly the sort of people who could enjoy idle comforts. But here, in the quiet of his villa, with no one watching and no knives in the dark, she felt safe enough to linger.

Sliding out of bed carefully, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Lucanis didn’t stir. Her lips curled into a faint smirk as her eyes caught sight of his discarded shirt from the night before. Why not?

She slipped the oversized button-up over her shoulders. The fabric hung loosely on her frame, brushing her thighs. It smelled like him—spiced wine and gourmand, danger wrapped in charm. She rolled the sleeves up her arms and padded silently toward the kitchen, a thought forming in her mind.

Muffins.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The Dellamorte villa’s kitchen was absurdly lavish and well-stocked, for someone who rarely ventured home. Rook found the ingredients she needed with minimal fuss. She worked quickly, her Crow training making her as silent in a kitchen as she was in the shadows.

Rook stirred the flour in a bowl, humming softly under her breath, when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

She jumped slightly, spinning to see Lucanis leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was shirtless, his dark eyes glittering with lazy amusement, his hair still mussed from sleep.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have a knife in my hand,” she said, her tone dry but her lips curving into a smile.

“And here I thought nothing could catch a Crow by surprise,” he replied, pushing off the doorway to saunter toward her. “But this… cara mia, this is a sight I wasn’t expecting to wake up to.”

His gaze slid pointedly down to the shirt she wore, his shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal just enough to make his smirk deepen. “Is this your way of staking a claim? I didn’t realize you were so territorial.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, turning back to the bowl. “I was cold. And you’re lucky I’m feeling generous. I was going to make muffins.”

“Muffins,” he repeated, the word dripping with exaggerated disbelief. “I must still be dreaming. Rook, the infamous Crow, is baking muffins in my kitchen? What’s next—embroidering handkerchiefs?”

“Keep talking, and I won’t save you any.”

Lucanis laughed softly, his voice low and rich as he stepped closer. His hands settled on her waist from behind, his presence warm and undeniably distracting. “You know,” he murmured near her ear, his breath brushing her neck, “you’re whisking that flour like it’s a target, you’ve received contract on. If you want these muffins to be edible, you’ll need to be gentler.”

Rook tried to focus on her task, but the way his hands slid along her hips wasn’t helping. “And what would you know about baking?”

“More than you’d think,” he said, his tone smug. “The Dellamorte name didn’t always keep me well-fed, you know. I had to learn a few things back when I was going through training.”

She snorted. “You? Starving? Hard to imagine.”

“Hard to imagine you in a kitchen, cara mia. Yet here we are.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. Lucanis always had this way of disarming her, slipping past her defenses with that wicked grin and sharp wit.

He leaned closer, his hands tightening slightly on her waist as he teased, “Though I must say, this shirt looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”

“Are you going to help, or just stand there and flirt?”

“Why not both?” His voice was low, and before she could respond, he turned her to face him, lifting her effortlessly onto the cool marble countertop.

“Lucanis—”

He silenced her with a kiss, slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers with maddening precision. One of his hands trailed up to tangle in her hair, the other remaining firm on her waist. The kiss deepened, his usual charm giving way to something more intent, more real.

When he finally pulled back, Lucanis lingered, his dark eyes locked on hers, warm and brimming with a familiar, maddening confidence. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down her arm, and a crooked smile played on his lips. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and rich, "you don't have to sneak off in the morning to make muffins. You could just wake me up. Though I can't promise we'd get out of bed anytime soon."

Rook raised an eyebrow, fighting the flush that crept into her cheeks. "And what exactly would you do, Lucanis mio, if I did?"

His grin widened, the kind of grin that usually preceded trouble. He leaned in closer, watching her carefully. "Oh, I can think of plenty of ways to make it worth your while. None of them involve flour."

Her lips twitched into a smirk, but she turned her face before he could see the warmth blooming across her face. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"I've heard rumors," he replied, stepping back just enough to grab the whisk from her hands. "But if you're sneaking around in my shirt to bake muffins, I must be doing something right." His eyes roved over her, slow and deliberate, lingering just a little too long. "It's a good look, by the way.”

Before she could reply, he stepped between her legs, settling his hands on her bare thighs. His lips hovered just above hers, close enough that her breath caught. "You could have stayed in bed," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise. "And I could've kept you... busy."

"Some of us like to start our mornings productively," she managed, though her voice was softer than she intended.

"Productive?" he teased, his eyes scanning hers as he spoke. "You're in my shirt, with no pants, making muffins in my kitchen. And here I was thinking you just wanted to drive me insane."

She smirked, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against his in a quick, teasing kiss. “Maybe I did,” she murmured, her tone as sweetly provocative as the look in her eyes.

Lucanis let out a low groan, his hands tightening briefly on her thighs before sliding up to rest on her hips. His forehead came to rest against hers, his voice a husky whisper laced with amusement. “Strega mia, one day you’re going to be the death of me.”

Her smirk widened, her hands slipping to his shoulders as she tilted her head playfully. “Is that a complaint?”

“Far from it,” he replied, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth in a maddeningly light touch. “If I go, at least I’ll die happy—and very, very distracted.”

Rook laughed softly, pushing against his chest just enough to make him step back. “Well, I wouldn’t want to deprive Treviso of its most charming Crow just yet.”

“Il più affascinante, per favore,” he laughed with a wink, retreating only far enough to grab the whisk again. His gaze swept over her once more, lingering on her bare legs and the way his shirt clung to her. “Though if you keep parading around my kitchen like this, amore mio, I might be tempted to retire early.”

“Tempted?” she shot back, sliding off the counter and standing toe-to-toe with him. “I’d think you’d have better self-control than that, Amorino.”

He leaned in, close enough that their noses nearly touched, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. “With you? Self-control doesn’t stand a chance.”

She arched an eyebrow, fighting the grin threatening to break free. “You’re full of it, you know.”

“And yet, you tolerate it,” he quipped with a grin, echoing her earlier words as he turned back to the mixing bowl.

Rook leaned against the counter, watching him work, her smirk softening. Despite all his bravado and charm, there was something grounding about the way Lucanis moved in his own space, so at ease yet so attuned to her presence. She could feel it—the way he made her a part of his world without ever saying a word.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence as he gave her a sly glance. “Breakfast today, cara mia. Tomorrow… dinner?”

“Tomorrow?” she asked, feigning surprise. “You’re awfully confident I’ll still be here.”

Lucanis grinned, setting the whisk down and stepping closer to her again. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he murmured against her ear, “Oh, I’m very confident. After all, tesoro, I always get what I want.”

Her heart gave an unsteady flip, but she kept her smirk in place as she leaned back to meet his gaze. “And what is it you want, Lucanis?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low and unguarded as his dark eyes held hers. Then, just as quickly, his lips curved into a devilish smile. “But I’ll settle for muffins… for now.”

Rook let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she pushed him toward the stove. “You really are trouble.”

“And you love it,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned back to the batter.

She didn’t respond, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than she intended. Because, damn him, she did.

———————————————————————————

Is it possible to fall in love with my own writing???

IM EATING IT UPPPP!!!

———————————————————————————

[here-for-fanart]

JINX REMEMBERS THE TIME LOOPS!

I'm probably gonna get a lot of nay sayers on this, but I don't care. I believe Jinx was fully aware of Ekko rewinding time. Here's why:

We know Jinx is medically enhanced with Shimmer. It has become fully integrated into her system, as we've seen her use it multiple times to move at super fast speeds (especially during a fight).

But it gets even better: She appears to actually glitch through time, when using it. She's THAT fast. Here's a few screenshots that show her partially glitching through time. In a few of them, she almost disappears entirely.

Now, I'm not saying she's physically travelling through time (yet). This isn't teleportation or rewinding; this is simply acceleration. But remember, Ekko himself said he was playing "with inversions on Jayce's acceleration rune", when he discovered the Z-drive. So, Jinx and Ekko's powers are connected, as they are complete opposites of what the other is doing.

So, how does Jinx manage to negate Ekko's travel backwards when she's travelling forward? Well, Shimmer is a substance made for adaptation and survivability during transitions. Hextech (which Ekko's Z-drive and her monkey bomb both use) has been known to have unpredictable results when combined with Shimmer. It's possible the shimmer in her system counteracts the Z-drive naturally, or it adapted to it to prolong Jinx's survivability during the first explosion.

The first time Ekko rewinds Jinx's explosion, she is zipped backwards just like the first time the Z-drive was used. But in the aftermath of this rewind, Jinx looks somewhat confused (indicating she has at least a noticeable case of deja vu, even if she does not fully remember the events).

One might think this is surprise in response to Ekko calling her name. But we know it's not, because she quickly dismisses his presence and goes back to blowing herself up. This is her way of saying, "Okay, my mind is doing a weird thing again but back to business."

NOTE: We don't get to see her initial reaction to the second explosion, but I think the second explosion is where she finally understood something was seriously off.

Because the next time we see her,

She's in experimentation mode. And the fact that she's watching Ekko, means she suspects he's the cause.

If you watch her micro expressions, during the third explosion, you'll see: default curiosity; a narrowing of the eyes, indicating suspicion (right before she pulls the pin); she keeps her eyes open and on Ekko during the explosion and does not blink; then when everything is set back, there's a slight widening of the eyes; her eyebrows raise; then her eyes narrow; before they dart downwards, noticing Ekko's blood and charred state.

[Before you start berating me for "reading too much into it", this is animation. Every single twitch is purposely added.]

After she sees the condition he's in, she knows this is his doing but that he can't keep it up forever. That's why she says "You're too late, Ekko" and goes again. It's too late for talking out her problems anymore. She's just gonna weedle him down, until he gives up.

But then, he says, "It's always a dance with you". Well, now, she's just curious about what the heck THAT means. So, she gives him a second to see if he'll tell her.

That's when Ekko says he's gonna sit there a minute, to see if he can talk an old friend out of blowing them up. And when it's clear he's waiting for her to say something, her mind focuses back on dying. "I'm tired of talking." But! She tries something new again. If he can stop an explosion, maybe he can't stop something else. She falls over the edge.

After this reset, we don't see her expression, but I can only imagine she's thinking through her slowly dwindling options. Then, he says, "Ya know, I learned from someone..." and suddenly, she's back to curiosity. How is Ekko doing it? Is he finally going to tell her?

"No matter what happened in the past, it's never too late to build something new". And that's when she notices the Z-drive and the monkeys. That's not Ekko's style. It's hers.

The next sentence actually doesn't make sense, grammatically, unless you follow it up with the previous sentence. "[It's not too late to build] Someone worth building it for."

And having just been given evidence that there is a good version of her, [There's no good version of me.] one who did fix things [It was something I could fix.], and who made it possible for Ekko to save her [big fat hero], she decides to try one last time.

It's curiosity that keeps her pausing over and over again. Even trapped in depression and suicidal ideation, she's still the girl with a brilliant mind and an inventive spirit.

It's my opinion that Ekko would not have been able to save Jinx, if she was not aware of the time loop situation. It was her curiosity of Ekko's new toy, combined with the realization that she helped build it, that led to her giving life another chance.

Lastly, remember when I said she's not capable of physically travelling through time yet?

Unless Warwick let go of her before the explosion, yes, yes she is. Or at least, she's come as close to it as she's physically able to. Either way, our girl is alive and on her way to a new life.

############################

[Thanks for reading, but don't take this too seriously. It was just some thoughts in my head I needed to get out.]

[captain039]

Heal your hurt

Viktor x reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, mental health issues, light swearing, chubby reader, intimacy, smut, friends to lovers, reader has chronic pain

I just need to take care of Viktor and for him to take care of me xD

It’s a quiet day, rain gently pattering on the window of your shared apartment. Viktor’s been your roommate for three years now, but you’ve known him since you were little. You’ve always loved Viktor, lately though it just seems different, you catch yourself staring at him, watching the way his eyes scan over journals, notes and blueprints, watch the way his jaw sometimes clench’s a little to harshly, or his high cheek bones. Watching him slowly grow tired while you read on the bed making sure he doesn’t fall asleep at the desk, or how he makes his tea in the morning, his hair a mess his eyes barely open. It makes your cheek heat and your thighs clench. You want to throw yourself out the window some days at how bad it gets, you can’t help but wonder, let your mind wander to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking about him, you imagine straddling him, making sure he’s comfortable before slowing sinking-

The door opening makes you startle, your book falls to the floor and you stare blankly before you register.

“Welcome home” you call to Viktor who just hums and heads to his desk lying his things down. He looks tired today more so than usual, his limp is worse than normal and you can see the tense lines in his jaw and brow.

“How was your day?” You ask. You know better than to ask if he’s ok, always being brushed off.

“Good” he answers simply sitting down resting his cane against the table, it wouldn’t be a talking day then. You sigh softly picking up your book and lying it on the table head in hand, elbow resting on the table as you look out the window, watching the rain fall.

“Did you have a good day?” Viktor’s voice comes and you look to him, he’s looking to you to which surprised you.

“It was boring” you shrug and he nods.

“Jayce says hello” he says and turns back to his desk.

“Tell him I say hi back” you say and he nods. You stand up deciding to take a shower instead of sitting, your hips protest and you swear you feel like someone just stabbed you in the tail bone. You want to curse but keep it in and awkwardly go to the bathroom. You run a bath, put in a few drops of oil and a scoop of bath salts, it’s your own damn fault for sitting in that chair too long. You want to slap yourself but don’t as you strip and struggle with your pants and socks. You sit on the toilet seat jaw clenching. Times like these you missed your mother, her helpful hand her warm words and caring touch, she made you feel less useless. You force your legs up and take off your socks one by one it takes you too long and you’re rushing to turn the taps off before you even get your pants off. You sigh shimmying your pants off before you settle in the bath with a small sigh of satisfaction. A temporary subdue of pain, you figured by now they’d invent something to stop this kind of thing, but no, we’re just inventing blimps and hextech. You sit in the bath eyes closed head resting on the small bath pillow that Viktor bought you. It’s… nice the small things he does, he’ll buy you a small gift you use every day like a new bookmark, a blanket or something you need, he’ll leave one of your jackets hanging by the door if it’s cold, he always knows how to make the best tea.

“Are you alive in there?” A gentle knock echos from the door and you open your eyes realising you were lost in thought.

“Yeah I’m alive” you call out hearing a soft rare chuckle from Viktor.

“Would you like a tea?” He asks and the thought of hot tea makes you smile.

“Yes please” you answer. Getting out the bath seems to harder than getting in, you feel ten times more heavy and drying your body feels like running a marathon. You struggle to your room, listen to the kettle boil as you take some pain meds and get dressed carefully. You leave your room and collapse on the couch ungracefully and sigh. You’ve never outright told Viktor of your problems, you figure he can see them even though you try to hide, sometimes it’s too much to hide, but you don’t want your burdens on him when he already has his own.

“Tea” Viktor says and hands you the cup. You thank him and sit up properly sipping the herbal drink with a small sigh.

“Viktor?” You ask as he sits at his desk and he hums back. You pause for a moment sighing and shaking your head.

“Sorry, don’t worry” you brush off picking up a book instead. You don’t see him falter and stop what he’s doing till you hear his voice.

“How is your book?” He asks.

“S, good” you hum.

“What’s it about?” He adds and you flick your eyes up seeing him writing something down.

“You don’t like my silly romance novels” you snort softly.

“Indulge me” he answers and something in your stomach flutters.

“I- ok. It’s about opposing kingdoms the Prince and the Princess must marry to form an alliance between each kingdom, they hate each other though and she’s been planning to murder him to get revenge for mother’s death. They’re forced to be together for appearance and she slowly finds out that it wasn’t in fact the prince that killed her mother but someone else, I think it was one of the kings assassins and the prince had no idea about it, anyway, she realised that the prince is not the evil master mind he appears to be, he’s a soft hearted gentlemen who cares for the people in secret and tries to save the kingdom from collapsing” you explain only half way through the book.

“Has either one confessed?” He asks.

“No, she’s still learning about her feelings but he’s head over heels just doesn’t want to push her” you shrug sipping your tea again and reading the page you were on.

“An enemies to lovers? Is that what you called it?” He comments and you smile to yourself.

“Yeah that’s what it’s called” you answer.

“With a slow…burn?” He tilts his head and your smile widens even if he can’t see it.

“Also correct” you let out a small giggle.

“I am slowly learning your… book language” you feel your stomach do a flip with butterflies at his words and you force yourself to stop smiling. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, you’re doing good” you mumble focusing on finishing your tea and page.

Next part ->

[saixria]

@angels-bullshit well you asked for it TELEMACHUS RAMBLE

I’m sure there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Telemachus represents open arms. For one, he immediately accepts Athena as his friend with open arms and offers the goddess of wisdom some wisdom in We’ll be fine, that’s just. Peak open arms behavior.

Besides the obvious, we can look into the motif (literary, not musical) of light vs dark in the musical (which might also be obvious but anyway). Even if we ignore Polites’ whole cut song “Your Light” about being Odysseus’ “light”, the light motif is actually kept in Open Arms — “we can light up the world here’s how to start”. I think this motif symbolizes the positive impact of open arms. Much like Circe said, “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”. If you inspire the world around you by being kind, you will in turn be treated with kindness. This is contrasted by the motifs of darkness in “I am your darkest moment” and “the world is dark” signifying ruthlessness. Instead of trying to change the ruthless world around you, you must become ruthless too to survive. There’s inherent selfishness to ruthlessness since you’re ensuring your own survival over others.

WHAT A TANGENT OK HOW DOES THIS RELATE TO TELEMACHUS? He has this line in Legendary “so I could bring the world some light” which references Polites’ whole “light up the world”. Let’s not forget “tell me Athena why you came to my aid” has the same melody as “what keeps you up so late at night my friend” from cut song Ismarus where Polites is asking Odysseus this. (HM I WONDER WHAT OTHER CHARACTER IS UNABLE TO SLEEP DUE TO GUILT)

The light thing comes back so many times in we’ll be fine. “Then his light went dark” (can be interpreted as Polites, his “light”, dying, but I prefer to interpret it as him basically getting traumatized, losing his original enthusiasm in his belief that everything would go smoothly and he’d be able to get home with all 600 men as he suffers his very first casualties) “life could be that bright” — Not only is Athena talking about Odysseus losing his light, she herself has also lost hers as she lost her one and only friend and the positive impact he had on her life, and now it feels as though her life has gone dark.

“I know it’s light you’ll find” — Telemachus is literally acting as Athena’s light here as Polites was Odysseus’ 😭😭 he encourages her to help Odysseus, to embrace the Open Arms ideology of making a positive impact on the world around you and you’ll end up positively affected as well. In bringing Odysseus light, perhaps she herself will also regain hers. From all this, Telemachus clearly represents Open Arms and is to Athena what Polites was to Odysseus.

Now how does Telemachus embody ruthlessness? This part is much shorter since we don’t have as much to analyze (perhaps we’ll get more in Ithaca saga) but Telemachus doesn’t shy away from being ruthless when the need arises either. He fights Antinuous in Little Wolf to defend his family’s honor, and in Ithaca saga he will also help kill the suitors (perhaps we will get more on his mindset here, but don’t take my word on that). He is willing to do what it takes, even if it’s cruel like hunting down all the suitors, to protect his family, and killing the suitors IS what’s necessary and an act of ruthlessness.

(Though actually this is making me realize “boy I wish I could so I could bring the world some light” was referring to… killing monsters. Maybe this shows that even in Legendary he’s wanted to make a positive impact on the world by being ruthless in a way, further showing that he’s the true balance of Ruthlessness and Open Arms)

Anyway, Telemachus was really only able to achieve this balance because of his circumstances, just as Odysseus was forced to fully embrace ruthlessness because of his. While Telemachus has faced hardships (the suitors) that requires ruthlessness to be dealt with, hes also a crowned, sheltered prince, largely unaffected by even darker aspects of the world like war and death as Odysseus has been, so Telemachus was able to retain part of his innocence and his “light” while Odysseus’ was stripped from him. Both of them were products of their environments, and it’s quite fitting how Odysseus went to war to protect his son, and his son ended up being a “better” person than Odysseus was forced to become. Telemachus means “far from battle”, and indeed Odysseus has succeeded in keeping his son far from the darkness of war and its aftermath.

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 3

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Another year goes by and your friendship with Spencer is better than ever… too bad its a rough year. A birthday surprise, another Halloween adventure together (but make it a musical), Sister fights, and you finally find out what Spencer's day job is.

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, bank robbery, Season 7 finale

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer turns 30  

Spencer hasn’t left his apartment much lately. Besides going out for calls at the BAU and working on finding Ian Doyle, he doesn’t have much energy for anything else. Except for the new doctor he was seeing for his migraines. She was actually helpful in comparison to the others he had seen.   

It’s only been four months since Emily Prentiss died and Spencer doesn’t feel any lighter. He just seems to be spending more time debating on whether he’d feel better if he started using again. At least he’d be numb. Feeling numb sounded better than being miserably sad at the loss of one of his closest friends. He knows in the back of his mind, if he did start using dilaudid again he wouldn’t be able to truly put his all into the Ian Doyle investigation. That’s what keeps him content to stay sober.   

Spencer hasn’t visited the bookstore, not nearly as much as he used to. It’s enough to cause worry so you’ve started to call him at least once a week. He’s sure that you probably wanted to call every day. You worry and fret over him, and he knows it’s just a part of who you are, but he doesn’t feel deserving of the attention.   

Especially when you take it upon yourself to visit occasionally.   

He always opens the door for you, he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to worry you. Even though when he looks at your face, he sees the clear concern behind your eyes.   

He always knows when it’s you because your warmth and brightness almost roll off in waves that gently brush and seep under the doorway. You’re a force of nature. One where you shed some color into his incredibly bleak world.   

The only other friend who checks on him in the same kind of way would be Penelope. Which, she’s grieving in a very different way. It’s also hard for any of them to talk about Emily together without it being tainted by their Doyle investigation. He knows this isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but he’ll be damned if he stops looking for the man that took away part of his family.    

There’s an ease and tenderness that comes with you. You've never pushed him to tell you what’s wrong. You'll ask, always testing the waters, shaking his raft, but you never push. You don’t force him down into the depths of his own consuming thoughts. The ones where he thinks he’s drowning and can’t recover from. The ones where all of his intrusive thoughts prick at his brain like tiny needles, trying to prove nonexistent points.   

It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, because you definitely are. Sometimes when he closed off the conversation, he could see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, because Spencer would trust you with anything, you’re his best friend outside of the BAU. He even spent last New Years with you and your dad, Big Joe. Well, mostly you had made dinner, they watched Big Joe’s favorite movie, which Spencer happily listened to him give all his endless movie knowledge. After you put your dad to bed, they went out to a bar for a few midnight drinks.    

Spencer just preferred to keep the FBI parts of his life out of his personal life. It’s been refreshing to not be a federal agent when he’s with you. If he had to explain everything about Ian Doyle and Emily’s death... he was slightly afraid you wouldn’t want him in your life anymore.    

Or worse, he’d endanger you like Hotch had with Haley...   

So, Spencer does what he truly does best, holds his feelings close to his chest with his secrets. If your smile faltered when he couldn’t tell you what was happening, he’d bite his tongue. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not you. Even if his secrets kept you at arm's length.   

-   

It’s a random day in the middle of August when Spencer finally walks back into the bookstore. It surprised you so much you ram yourself into the edge of the checkout counter. You curse under your breath but shoot him a hesitant smile.    

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” you softly said as you placed the books down to give him your full attention. Almost approaching him like he is a wounded animal. 

Spencer nods, “world keeps spinning, life goes on.” he said with a small shrug and a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.   

He couldn’t tell you that his dead friend faked her death and was alive all along. Just in Paris... while two of his friends lied to his face. That absolutely isn’t a can of worms he’s willing to unload onto you. Not today, maybe not ever. He still had some anger to process that he doesn’t want to direct towards you. Spencer takes a deep breath and starts walking toward the cafe.    

You followed after him and smiled brightly. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway.” you touch his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worried about you.” you said warmly as you move behind the counter to make him a coffee.    

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He starts to rebuttal, but you cut him off.    

“I was going to worry regardless; I don’t know how to turn it off unfortunately.” you tried to joke lightly.    

Spencer just furrows his brows, “Do you worry about everything?” he asked. It comes across harsher than he means it to, but it rolls off your back.    

“No, just about people. I’m worried about Birdie, like all the time, not to mention dad. I’m also constantly thinking about my coworkers, Josie... My friends in Georgia...” you pause and bites your lip.    

“That probably sounds like I don’t do anything else besides worry.”    

“It sounds like anxiety.” he deadpanned.    

You shrugged and offered him his coffee. “Probably.”    

“Oh! Spencer, since you’re here!” you quickly change the subject whirling around to the computer, “Do me a favor and sign up for our new rewards program. I need a test guinea pig to make sure it actually tracks the points.”    

Spencer nods and waits. You swiftly tap information into the computer screen.    

“It’s only a few questions,” you murmured, “Full name...Spencer Reid. Date of birth-” you froze looking up at Spencer.   

“I don’t know your birthday.” you said it like it was a genuine surprise and frown. “We’ve known each other for almost three years, how do I not know your birthday?”   

Spencer gave a soft chortle of amusement, “I’ve never been in town for my birthday. I’m weirdly always out for work. Besides-” he shrugged. “I don’t know yours either.”    

You dramatically groan. “I cannot believe I didn’t know this! Birthdays are so important!”    

Spencer tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t know you liked birthdays that much?”   

“Don’t you? It’s the one day to truly celebrate a person. I mean you don’t need a day to do that, but doesn’t everyone want to feel special just one day? I mean you make your way around life another year and you should earn just a little treat for it! Living sucks sometimes.” you said matter of factly.    

You're so passionate as you talk, Spencer almost forgets it’s even about birthdays.     

Spencer paused before his brain autofill's information like a search engine, “Did you know that the birthday celebration actually started in ancient Egypt with Pharoh's? It wasn’t for common folk at all. They acted as a coronation for a Pharoh. Greeks and Romans adopted them for their worship of the gods but really, individual birthdays weren’t well known. For a long time in history.” Spencer info dumps what he knew and smiled triumphantly.    

You nod, listening, you always listened to Spencer when he had the wealth of knowledge to just disperse whenever. It was charming.   

“Sooooooo, what I’m hearing is, we should celebrate everyone like they are their own gods?” you tease him.   

Spencer rolls his eyes, “Not what I meant.”    

You hummed in amusement, “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You smiled, like you had a secret. “What’s your birthday Spencer?”    

“October 12th 1981.” He tells you with a sigh.    

You plug it into the computer, and you realize quickly that Spencer’s about to turn 30. You looked up at him, “That’s only a few months away. Makes sense it’s October.”    

Spencer fakes a dramatic gasp as he looks at you in shock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”    

You give him a deadpan look as you finish typing in the rest of his information. “It means- that for someone who loves Halloween it doesn’t surprise me you were born in October.”    

“What’s your e-mail?” you asked him.    

“I only have my work one and I’m not using that for your rewards program.” He said in fake exasperation, “By your logic,” he picked back up their conversation, “that means you also were born in October.”    

You make a fake buzzer noise, “Nope!” you pop the P. “Try again.”   

Spencer raises a brow, “There is a 1 in 365 chance for me to guess right. That’s not even one percent.”    

“Do you care if I just put in my e-mail? We’re just testing it, I’m doing it anyway.” you tap away at the computer, “Also- ever heard of a zodiac sign? Thats at least like 1 in 12 chances. Better odds.” you gave him a pointed look.   

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously making me guess zodiac signs?”    

You wiggled your brows, “What? The genius doesn’t believe in the fate of the stars.” you smirked to yourself as you typed away at the computer.   

“Do you actively want me to stereotype you?” He asked with a teasing smile of his own.   

“Tik tok, it’s either guess the sign or the date.” you joke.    

“You’re stubborn enough, let’s say Taurus.” he replied with a snark.    

You rolled your eyes and made a tsk sound, “Nice try, but WRONG. I’m a Cancer. A summertime baby even though I hate hate hate summer.” you groan thinking about the heat.    

“Then your logic definitely doesn’t make sense.” He laughed in exasperation.   

You shrugged, “never said I was right.”    

Spencer glared playfully, “No but it was implied.”   

You just brush him off. Finishing up the rewards program. “I think it works. It should track your drink purchases, and every tenth drink is free!” you said excitedly.    

“You never charge me for my drinks.” He reminded you with a look of mild confusion.   

“Shhhh, don’t let the other customers know I have favorites! They’ll get their feelings hurt!”    

-   

You’ve been scheming since you found out Spencer’s birthday. 30 was a milestone and you weren’t about to let him go by without even an itsy bitsy teenie weenie celebration. You weren’t going to throw a surprise party or anything. After the fiasco that was a friend's surprise party when they were 21 you vowed to never again. The last thing you had expected was for everyone to find out that your friend's roommate was cheating. Screaming surprise to a pair of twentysomethings trying to eat each other’s faces and their actual boyfriend being in the room was rough.    

You learned no more surprises the hard way.   

The only surprise you had was you were determined to have Josie bake one of her delicious cakes for him. You begged Josie, just a small chocolate cake with a gorgeous violet frosting. Nothing too insane, Josie just was the best baker you knew. Her cakes were to die for, but most of her pastries were.    

Josie agreed, but only if you agreed to take the deposits to the bank for the Holiday season. You lived closer and Josie hated dealing with the general population outside of what she had already seen during the holidays.     

You've been hiding Spencer’s cake in the back freezer for a day, hoping he wouldn’t be out of town for his birthday. You had called him earlier in the week and asked him to swing by on Wednesday if he could. You had told him you really needed a taste tester for your new Halloween treat. Sugar was Spencer’s weakness.    

You're pacing back and forth, trying to not be on edge, but you’re riddled with so much excitement it’s hard. You've been decorating the new display case filled with Halloween themed books. You are hanging up a garland in the window display when you see Spencer walking down the street.    

You quickly finished hanging up your ghost garland and quickly ran to the back freezer to get his cake out to let it defrost a bit. You throw candles and a lighter on the counter in the back room and you try to make sure everything is set and ready to go.    

The bell rings all the way through to the back and you compose yourself before stepping out again. You stick your head out the back door that divides the cafe from the back kitchen and waves to Spencer.    

“Back here!” you shout.   

The bookstore only had a few patrons tonight, none of which were happily there to hang out or study. They were perusing the isles, and you had already given them a few recommendations of books. You know an insomniac when you see one, and these people were the kind that needed something besides the empty fridge to look at for their late-night brain. It was later than normal, around two in the morning, when Spencer came walking in.    

“I almost thought you weren’t coming by tonight.” you tease leaning against the counter.    

“It was a late work trip.” He said with a tired smile.    

“Well, I have a treat for you. Taste testing if you will.” you said, turning to the back room.    

“I need you to close your eyes though. I’m really proud of it.”    

Spencer rolls his eyes at your antics but does as you’ve asked.    

“No peaking!” you shouted, and Spencer could hear the door to the back close behind you.    

You check the cake, and it's good to go. The back freezer wasn’t cold enough to freeze it solid, so the cake is still easy to cut. you press the candles into the top, a three and a zero to make 30. You slowly light the candles and back up to bring the cake out. You gently set it down in front of Spencer, who’s just standing there with his eyes closed and a goofy grin.     

“Okay, open.”    

Spencer opens his eyes, and he looks stunned. His mouth just kind of hangs open like a gaping fish before he murmured, “This isn’t a Halloween treat...”    

“Happy birthday Spencer.” you whisper looking at his reaction and trying to gauge it. “I didn’t make your cake, Josie did, but I promise her cakes are the very best.”    

Spencer was stunned into silence. He truly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday, or know he was turning 30. Hell, even his team wasn’t aware it was his birthday until Emily told them. Which, he does appreciate her listening to him. He was having a crisis over his own accomplishments.   

You start getting antsy when Spencer doesn’t respond. He’s standing there with his mouth open. You start rambling, “I just thought, you know, 30 is a big deal! It’s a milestone and I didn’t get to celebrate your past two birthdays so I thought this would be a nice treat... I know I didn’t ask if you even like surprises, but it was so small-”    

Spencer cuts her off.    

“Sorry, I just... thank you.” He tells you with a soft smile. “I love it.”    

Your eyes light up and you brush your hair out of your face. The nerves leaving your body.    

“Make a wish Spencer.”    

Spencer doesn’t have to think about it as he blows out his candles.    

“What did you wish for?” you asked, grabbing a knife to cut his cake.    

Spencer raised a brow, “Well if I tell you, it won’t come true.”    

You roll your eyes, “Didn’t peg you to be superstitious.”    

Spencer just shrugged at that and bit his lip. If his wish had to do with you, well, you didn’t need to know.    

The one about Rocky Horror Picture Show  

Spencer’s sorting through the collection of DVD’s you’ve brought over for their movie night. You brought an eclectic mixed taste of Halloween movies, from Hocus Pocus to Insidious. Spencer pauses on Rocky Horror Picture Show and you make a noise of excitement.    

“Oh, we should watch it! I’m going to the showing next weekend and I’m so excited.” you said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.    

“I didn’t know they still showed it in movie theaters, I’ve never been.” he said casually popping open the case to grab the DVD.   

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Rocky Horror Picture Show? It’s like quintessentially a Halloween staple.” you said in abject horror.    

Spencer is once again being berated for his lack of pop culture knowledge. To be fair, he does know the movie. So, he isn’t fully aware of why you are looking at him like he has two heads.   

“I’ve seen the movie. I know what it is.” He gives a scoff and shakes his head.    

“No, that’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you ever been to a local show? It’s iconic!” you said exaggeratedly.   

Spencer rolled his eyes. “My job doesn’t always let me preplan my events well. Besides, it can’t be much different than watching the movie at home.” He said turning to press play on the DVD player.   

You audibly gasp standing up from the couch.    

“Spencer Reid, that is blasphemous! You are absolutely coming with me to a viewing of Rocky Horror, like immediately.” you demand planting your hands on your hips and shooting him a playful glare.    

“What makes it so different?” He cocked his head in confusion, brows furrowed. “It’s a musical from the 70’s that barely makes sense in the plot line and some of the verbiage is really outdated, borderline offensive really.” He states matter of factly.   

You sighed, “You don’t understand art! It’s about the experience of the show, it’s such a great time going to a live show and seeing everyone in costume and singing together, chanting, using props! It’s one of the best things to be in a room of similar people just having fun.” you told him in a dreamy voice.   

Spencer nodded, still not fully getting your image, moving to go sit on the couch, “I didn’t know they were so... performative.”    

“They are some of my favorite shows I’ve been to. Especially bringing new people.” you plop back down on the couch next to him.    

“Why?” he asked, turning to watch the opening credits, leaning down to grab his late-night coffee that wasn’t nearly as good as what you make in the cafe.   

“Because they’re virgins.” You said it like it was so obvious. Like it was a fact as simple as the sky is blue.   

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.    

“Excuse me?” he asks a little baffled.    

You roll your eyes, “When someone is brought to a live show and they’ve never been, they’re a virgin. There’s even a silly virgin ritual that’s super fun. The whole nights a blast.”    

Spencer goes quiet, his face bursting into a red flush, “It’s not... it’s not like a sex thing, is it?”    

Your laugh filters through his apartment bright and loud. You shake your head, “God no Spencer! I’m not going to some crazy orgy almost every year.”    

Spencer started coughing and looked at you with wide eyes, “I wasn’t implying that you- I-... shit.”    

You just shake your head still trying to control your laughter, “Well you have to come with me now Spencer, to heal my wounded ego. I’m going on Halloween. Dress up please?” you asked with a bat of your lashes.   

Spencer covers his face in embarrassment but nods, “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. Can we please just watch the movie now?”    

“Can do.” you snickered settling back into the comfort of his couch.   

-   

Before you can leave, you have a few things you need to check first. Spencer is picking you up to walk to the theater together, which is sweet. You go to check on your dad before leaving.    

You knock gently on your father's door before opening it a crack, “Daddy?” you whisper.   

Big Joe is passed out in his bed, the television still playing faintly in the background of some sports game. His snores letting you know he was out for the night.   

You shake your head with a sigh before going in to turn off his television and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.    

“Love you, I’ll be back later.” you whispered.     

You check your outfit one last time in the mirror, looking at her Janet inspired pajamas. She was wearing tights, a silk slip dress, and wrapped in a similar silk night gown. You were going as Janet in her under garments, but something you were okay with wearing in public. You throw your long coat over it to keep yourself warm.    

You hear Spencer’s gentle knock on the door, and you quickly move to grab the last few items. You grab your large tote bag, double checking to make sure you have all the props you wanted to bring. You look in your wallet to make sure you have both tickets, and you feel confident.    

You slide on your heels and open the door to greet Spencer.    

“Hey! I’m ready.” you greet excitedly, moving to close the door behind you.   

You look at Spencer and see he’s dressed as Brad from the start of the movie, glasses and all. You grin as you tilt your head.    

“I didn’t know you wear glasses?” you said with a tiny smile pointing at his face.   

Spencer shrugged, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” he said holding out his arm for you.    

“A gentleman too!” you faked a gasp as you wrapped your arms around his. “To the theater!” you proclaim with an exaggerated drawl of your accent.   

It’s not the shortest of walks, but the duo arrives at the theater only a little chilly. Mostly you, even under your coat. You present the tickets, and they are quickly ushered inside. You immediately relax, feeling the warmth of the heater.    

You move to hang up your coat on the rake and Spencer catches what your actual costume is. His face flushed a bit.    

“You, you look great.” He almost chokes on his words as he compliments you.    

You do a little spin, your loose robe fanning out around you. “Thought it would be cute and comfy!” you tell him with a proud smile.    

You come back up to Spencer to link their arms together again, “Come on let’s go find our seats! I wanna make sure I have the props in the right order.” you looked up at him with unbridled excitement that’s just too contagious.    

Spencer just gives a nod, “Lead the way, Janet.”    

“Aren’t you just a peach Brad!” you responded without missing a beat.    

Everything about this movie experience is the exact opposite of what Spencer would expect when going to see a film. Almost everyone in the crowd was dressed and just as many were carrying around props.    

Your bag was filled with rice, newspapers, playing cards, he was honestly impressed by the Mary Poppins effect. He couldn’t see the bottom and every time you pulled something out, he really thought you had hit the end.   

The Time Warp plays, and you drag him out of his seat to dance together. The whole room ignited into a loud cacophony of singing. Your laughter is the only sound he can hear pierce through, and he finds himself smiling alongside you.    

Once that musical number ends, they almost fall back into their seats, you lean closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Are you having fun?”   

He turns and nods, bending down to grab some left-over rice to toss at you playfully. “It’s a blast.” he laughs.   

You squeeze his arm, “I’m glad.”    

The evening is chaotic, loud, and so so so messy. By the time the movie ends the theater is a real mess. You grab as many of the large props as you can and shove them back into your bag, trying to make the clean-up at least a bit easier.    

Once they’re outside, and you’re wrapped back up in your coat, Spencer takes a deep breath.    

“Soooooooooo?” you start, giving him an expectant look.   

“I had a lot of fun. I totally get the theater experience.” He chuckled looking over at you.   

“Good! Maybe we can make it a tradition.” You said giving him a gently nudge with your elbow.   

“You mean add more activities to our Halloween calendar? How will we ever find room!” He says in jest.    

You shrugged lazily with a dramatic sigh. “We’re just too festive Spencer.”   

“Clearly, we’re going to have to start Halloween in September next year.” He suggested.   

“Oh, that would give me something to look forward to!” you said in excitement.   

Spencer walks you home and drops you off at the foot of the apartment.    

“Thanks again Spencer. It was so much fun going with someone again.” you tell him with a soft smile. “I haven’t been able to go with anyone since we moved here.”   

Spencer steps forward to brush your hair out of your face, “I love spending Halloween with you.” he whispered.   

Your face bursts into a deep flush as you can feel your heart almost beat out of your chest. “Goodnight Spencer.”   

“Goodnight, Y/N.”   

The one where Birdie visits  

You're cleaning some dishes left over from breakfast when the doorbell rings. You sigh, knowing it’s far too early for Spencer to come by to pick you up for lunch. It has to be Bridget. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect, since you had just dropped your father off for a checkup.   

Your baby sister had called last night asking if their dad would be home tomorrow. You were too hopeful to think that meant Bridget was trying to spend time with their dad. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get Bridget to spend some time with their dad. Since he’s been diagnosed it’s almost like she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. Big Jo tries to not let it hurt his feelings, but you see his face and how he deflates.    

The day she came by, and he was in a wheelchair, it was like they’d both been hit by a truck.    

You plant a forced smile on your face as you answer the door, “I thought you were coming by later? When daddy would be here.”    

Your sister shakes her head, shoving her hands into her coat pocket. “Nope, I just needed to stop by before I started running my errands for the day.” she said calmly.    

“Well come in, come on, it’s freezing.” You step aside to let your sister in. Bridget quickly sheds her coat and scarf hanging them on the rack next to the door.    

“Magpie, did you pack any of my stuff when you moved daddy up here?” Bridget asks, walking into the kitchen and making herself a glass of water.    

“Come on in, fix yourself a drink, don’t mind your sister... by the way do you have my junk?” you mock crossing your arms as you raise your brow at your younger sister.    

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just in a hurry.” Bridget replied rolling her eyes.    

“Well, what are you looking for Birdie?” you asked.    

“I told you, it’s Bri.” She murmured with a sour face. “I can’t find any of my old high school stuff.” she said casually.    

You lean against the counter, “I didn’t take any of that stuff. I just packed up the essentials.”    

“So, my stuff is in a storage unit?” Bridget asked irritated.    

“No Birdie, it’s all still at the house in Georgia. I have Aunt Jo taking care of it. All your stuffs at home.” you replied exasperated.    

“Aunt Josephine? I thought she was like... a recluse?” Bridget asked, making a scrunched face.   

You roll your eyes, “No, Aunt Jo just never liked Lauren, so she never came around.”    

“God, can you just call her mom Magpie? I hate it when you call momma Lauren... it’s weird.” Bridget said defensively.    

You look up at Bridget with a raised brow, “I’m good, thanks. That would involve her having to stick around to be my mom.”   

“I’m not getting into this with you again.” Bridget says in a huff of frustration hitting the counter with her hands.    

“Fine.”   

“Fine.”   

Silence settles over the two sisters, and you go to open the fridge to grab a prepackaged cold coffee.    

“Soooooooooo,” you drawl out as you open the drink.    

Bridget looks at you with a suspicious look.    

“What are your Christmas plans?” you ask, trying to be casual.    

“Jamie and I are going to see momma in Florida. We’ve had these plans for a while.” She said defensively not making eye contact.   

“Birdie come on, you haven’t spent the past few Christmases with daddy, and if you did see him, it was for twenty minutes or a crummy half assed phone call.” you plead, throwing your hand up in emphasis.   

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a lecture, I just needed to know if you packed my shit when you decided to pack up all our lives and move out to DC without asking me.” Bridget murmurs bitterly under her breath.   

Your brows furrow as you’re taken aback by your sister.    

“Bridget, I didn’t pack up everyone's lives- we still have the house in Georgia!" You said mildly irritated.   

Bridget just rolls her eyes and puts her glass in the sink. “Whatever...” She murmured.   

You feel that small part of yourself, the one that gnaws and claws bubbling under your skin, poke itself to the surface. “What was I supposed to do? I had to make a decision for dad’s health!” you feel your voice rising in irritation that only your sister can bring out of you.   

“Besides, I wasn’t the one who moved to DC to run away from her family.” you state bitterly.   

“Oh, come off it!” Bridget throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not running away-this was the best program for me, and you know that!”   

“Then what do you call never seeing dad! You even called to ask if he was home before you came today, Birdie, just so you could avoid him... What would you call that?” you feel your voice raising and can’t stop the vitriol that spits out of your mouth at your sister.   

There’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach that twists and churns when it comes to your sister and your dad. You had tried so hard to get her to understand that their father was dying. They’re already lucky with the years they’ve gotten. He’s beaten the odds, but he can’t go on forever. You don’t understand how Bridget can just act like life is normal when every day could be their dad’s last.   

“It’s not my fault daddy’s sick!” Bridgit shouts, her own voice cracking, “It’s not my fault you’ve given up your own life to be his caretaker! So, stop blaming me for living my life, while you’re stuck here playing nurse!”    

“I’m not blaming you-”   

“Yes, you are! You always blame me-”   

“No, I don’t Bridget! If anything, I’m jealous about how selfish you can be!” you feel the words tumbling out of your mouth like bile before you can stop herself. You're so angry and sad all the time. It’s not fair that you’re so aware of your father’s mortality while your baby sister gets to run around and live her carefree life.    

“I just wish you’d think about the fact that daddy is dying!”    

The silence that falls between them is thick, the tension tight, about to break. Bridget looks at her sister with hatred, “I’m very aware he’s dying Y/N... I’m not stupid.” she whispers out in a hard tone.    

Bridget turns around to grab her coat and rushes quickly to the door.    

You dig your heels in more, the words almost vomiting out your mouth in fierce resentment, “Go on Bridget, run away like you always do! I’ve been taking care of dad alone, anyway, not like he has two daughters!” your voice peaks and cracks in frustration.    

You blink away the fat angry tears pricking your eyes.   

Bridget turns on her heels to face her older sister, flipping you off, “Fuck you!” she hisses out in a venomous tone.   

Bridget elbows her way past the man in front of her almost knocking him down as she runs off.    

You rush to the door, about to yell something else after her when you see Spencer standing to the side in shock.    

Your shoulders drop and you look ashamed, closing your mouth tightly. You take a deep breath.    

“How much of that did you hear?” you asked quietly.    

You can’t find it in yourself to look up at Spencer yet, embarrassed by your own unbridled rage.    

He moves to push you gently back inside, “enough...” he replied softly closing the door behind him.    

“C’mon sit down.” He gently moves you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.    

He disappears into the kitchen for a short while and you sit on the couch looking at your lap. You feel the wave of resentment you were holding onto leave and be replaced with the intense sorrow that follows. The tears that were building finally fell, landing on your lap as you sobbed, trying to hold back your voice. Your throat feels tight as you sit there trying to hold yourself together, to not scream your lungs out.    

You feel the sofa dip next to you and a small mug is pushed into your hands. It’s warm tea.   

“There’s a lot of honey in there, I wasn’t thinking so it might be too sweet.” he said softly.    

You just shake your head and sniffle, trying to compose yourself. “No such thing...” you tried to joke, moving the cup to your mouth, your hands shaking the whole time.    

A sob escapes you before you can even drink the tea.    

“I’m sorry,” you tried to say, the tears just sliding down your face, you look up at Spencer your lip quivering and eyes red.    

Spencer gently grabs the tea and puts it on the coffee table before he opens his arms for you, and it doesn’t take but a short second before your face is in Spencer’s chest bawling.   

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your body shakes from crying, you sound like a small child with how the sobs rip through your throat.    

Spencer holds you until you calm down enough, he finally feels you stop shaking.   

“Do you feel better now?” he whispers.    

You pulled back and tried to dry your eyes, you could already feel the puffiness settling.    

“No...” you murmured pitifully. “I feel worse, like I’m a bitch.” You look up at Spencer and see the massive wet stain from your tears.   

“Sorry,” you point to his shirt, “didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. I thought you were coming later?” you said in a tiny voice.    

“I was running early so I thought I’d just drop by, was that... Bridget?” he asked in a soft voice.    

You nodded. “We were fighting about dad... again.” you admit finally grabbing your cup of tea that he made you.    

Spencer face makes a silent ‘Oh’ as he nods in understanding.    

“It sounded pretty bad.” he replied.   

You groan, “I don’t like fighting about it. I don’t like fighting at all!” you said facing him. “We used to get along great, then... I don’t know. Everything changed when our parents divorced, and the gap just never stopped growing... Now there’s this great divide I can’t seem to reach across and...” you pause, taking a deep breath trying to stop the words from just falling out of your mouth. Exposing your raw skin that you’ve picked at so much your bones are exposed telling your story.   

“I know she thinks I hate her for living her life.” You sigh looking at Spencer, who’s just been sitting and kindly listening. Attentively. “I do sometimes resent how carefree she is... but” you bite your lip.   

“Spencer, I’m so scared that when dad dies... it’ll just,” you scoffed, “Me and that god forsaken bookstore.”   

“I don’t want to lose them both.” you said, your eyes brimming with tears again.    

If there was anything Spencer felt confident that he could do, it was helping you handle loss. He’s experienced it enough.   

“You won’t be alone.” He tells you confidently; he reaches out to hold your hands tightly. “I’ll be here.” he reassured you.    

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, everyone handles grief differently. Bridget...she might not be able to handle how sick your dad is.” Spencer tried to reason, anything to make you feel less alone.   

“Avoiding it won’t make it go away...” you muttered.    

“No, and she’ll eventually see that. You can’t force her to confront that fear.” he said pushing your hair behind her ear.    

“It’s so hard, how do you do it? Alone with your mom?” you asked softly.    

Spencer loses his breath for a moment before he swallows. Trying to find an answer.    

“Well, she has doctors she trusts now. And a home that she feels safe in... but I spent my childhood taking care of her.”    

Spencer scoffs, “I resent my father, he left a child alone to take care of a sick mother? He never helped me.”    

You give him a soft nudge with your shoulder, “my mom's pretty shitty too.”    

Spencer gives a hollow chuckle, “Does everyone have a shitty parent?” he asks, squeezing your hand.   

You lay your head on his shoulder, “There has to be good parents... we just- we got unlucky.” you whisper.   

“Maybe we did...” He murmured.    

Silence settles between them and it’s calming, not the tense air that was with Bridget.    

“You never told me what happened with your mom.”   

You tense up.    

“It’s not a story I like telling...” you sighed, “When I was thirteen, I overheard my parents arguing. Long story short, my mom cheated on my dad. Bridget was so young, like six, so when they divorced, they tried to lie to us. That it was mutual. Civil... I knew the truth though; I couldn’t look at my mom the same after that." you told him with a bitter smile.    

“I already lost my mom; I just couldn’t take away Birdie’s...”    

“You never told her?” he asked in surprise.    

“It wasn’t for me to tell. I just, I was a teenager...I wanted to protect her you know? She didn’t need the bitterness that bites at the back of my throat every time I see that woman.”   

Spencer nods in understanding. “You know, you’re allowed to feel angry. You don’t have to be agreeable or happy about everything. It’s okay to get mad sometimes.” His hand moves up to gently brush your hair.    

You don’t respond to his statement, just try to not cry anymore.    

“Can we go get lunch now?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.    

“Anywhere you want.”   

The one where you find out Spencer works for the FBI   

It’s a rough morning.   

Massively rough, actually. Your alarm didn’t go off and if it wasn’t for Spencer calling you, you’d still be heavily sleeping.    

You roll over to grab your phone and answer it.    

“Hello?” your voice comes out groggy, slow, and thick with sleep.    

“Hey! You still want to go to the convention? I’m leaving soon and I can swing by to grab you.” Spencer’s voice comes through.    

You panic, and shots up staring at your bedside clock. “Oh god, Spencer I’m so sorry! I slept in!” You jump out of your bed and almost trip over your own clothes strewn on the floor from the night before.    

“It’s okay- I can wait if you need me to-”   

“No, no no! You were so excited, don’t wait up!” You interrupt him as you throw clothes from your closet around trying to find something you want to wear.    

“It’s no big deal.” Spencer started to answer but you sighed.    

“Spencer are you already dressed?” you pressed, grabbing one of your comfortable but cute skirts and a simple sweater. You throw them on your bed.   

His silence is enough of an answer.    

“You are.” you sighed and shook your head, “I have to go to the shop and pick up the money to deposit for the bank today. I’ll just meet up with you later. Promise. I just have to run this errand first.” you told him with a soft tone.   

You hear his small huff, “It’s really not a big deal,”    

“Spencer” you chastise him. “You’re already ready to go. I’ll probably just take a little over an hour. Then I'll be there, okay? Just do a few laps in the artist alley for me.” you tell him teasingly.    

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me a coffee.”    

“I always do.” you joked before hanging up.    

You rush through putting on your makeup and throwing your clothes on. You gave yourself a quick once over before deciding that you can’t waste any more time. You looked decent enough.   

You rushed down the stairs and came around the corner to see your dad sitting at the kitchen table.    

“You sure you’re okay without me today?” you asked him, leaning down to kiss your dad on the cheek.    

Her dad huffs, “I told you I can handle one day. Magpie, go out. You haven’t been out in months for fun.” He grunted in his deep voice, slurring his words together.    

“I’m just asking daddy!” you snorted a soft laugh. “I want to make sure you don’t need anything before I leave.” you told him.    

Her dad’s been able to move himself in and out of his own wheelchair for the most part, but you’re waiting for the day he can’t.    

You’re waiting for the day your daddy can’t do most things.   

“Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna watch the Brave’s game today and I better see them win.” He mumbled nodding to you.    

You roll your eyes, “Don’t hold your breath on that one. I love you.”   

“Love you too pumpkin.”    

You grab your bag, “Be safe!” He hollers at you.    

“I always am!” you shout back to him before leaving for the bookstore.    

-   

You are checking your watch in a mild panic. You’re not super off on the time you gave Spencer, but you still hate making him wait. You should have just taken the money deposit on Friday, but you were so sleepy you barely could do more than take your dad to his appointment.    

You huffed in frustration, you only had yourself to blame.    

You're finally up to deposit the stores money, and you thank the gods above. Then your, already bad day, goes terrible.   

“Hey!”   

Gun shots. Gun shots go off and you are frozen, your brain going into fight or flight. You turn quickly and see a woman with a short bob holding a gun and the security guard is on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.    

You feel your stomach fall out of your body and you’re shuffled with the crowd trying to get out. It feels like a blur.   

“I want to see hands in the sky!” a new voice shouts.   

Your hands go up, you see at least three guns and three different ugly face masks swinging their guns around. You feel like your ears are ringing while you’re ushered into a corner with the other patrons.    

Your body is shaking from fear. Who the hell robs a bank on a Saturday afternoon?    

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards, maybe you’ve heard of us.” The woman’s voice rings through again.   

You stand next to a couple who start speaking lowly in a foreign language, you think it’s German. You know that they’re trying to plan something together.    

The woman with her face mask turns around pointing her gun at the couple quickly walking toward them, speaking in their language. You have no idea what she says but you know it’s a threat.    

“Get your faces on the floor already. I see eyes, you see bullets. Get it?” the woman shouts at them.    

You slide down with everyone, fear eating away at you. You just hope the police are either quick or the robbers are.    

“Get down on the ground!” one of the males screams.   

You feel like a rock is in your throat. You just keep your head down, trying to keep yourself together. You aren’t focusing on what they’re saying. You know he’s demanding money but you’re just trying to focus on living.   

You hear them shuffling, shouting, and then they're gone. Just as soon as you feel like you can breathe again, there’s more gunshots and the robbers come running back inside.   

You are yanked up by your arm, forced to your feet. Your eyes meet the hollow black abyss of the woman’s mask as she holds the gun to your stomach. You can’t breathe, all you can think about is how you can’t leave your dad alone.    

“Make a wall, stand near the doors and windows.” she demanded, shoving you toward the front door.    

You heard the woman walk away, and you released a shaky breath squeezing your eyes shut.    

This is not how you wanted today to go. You were supposed to be at a convention with Spencer. Dressed as Doctor Who characters, eating bland food, and buying something silly from the artist alley. You’d come home, make dinner, and watch a movie with your dad.    

Now you don’t know if you’ll see your dad or Spencer again. God, you can’t think, what if you don’t see your dad again? Who’s going to take care of him? Your sister won’t. Your mind starts to spiral and you’re panicking, your breathing becomes shallow.    

You're brought back by the woman who’s next to you grabbing your hand and holding it tight. It grounds you to the present. You can hear the conversation happening with the squabbling face masked robbers.   

“I can’t find anything. No doors, no grates, nothing.” The woman informed the man.   

“Yo! Lynne! What’s another way outta here?” He shouts disgruntled to the woman who was working behind the counter.   

“Just the main entrance and the side door. It’s for security.” She responds timidly.   

“I know that. You think I’m stupid?” He shouted at her with an exhausted sigh.   

“What went wrong? We were on count.” The woman growls out in frustration.   

“I need a doctor. Is anyone a doctor?!” The man is clearly ignoring her and trying to save the other man that’s with them.   

You don’t hear much else, you start to tune out all the noise into a hum that almost feels like tv static against your skin. It makes you itch, but you can’t be bothered to try to move.   

There’s a murmur of conversation from the group next to you but it just makes white noise in your ears. You're just numb and want desperately to be home or at the coffee shop with Spencer. Anywhere else.   

A phone ringing is the only thing that vaguely pulls you out of it enough to pay attention again.   

One of the robbers is on the phone, the woman keeps circling murmuring her own commentary.   

“He’s trying to negotiate.” the man’s gruff voice cuts through.   

���We’re not playing games!” The woman sneers back.   

You feel the woman’s eyes scanning, heels clicking on the floor. You can feel your heart in your throat as it beats aggressively.   

There’s sudden movement and near you the woman pulls a small girl. She screams for her dad who’s with her and he spins around begging for his daughter.   

“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.”   

The father’s voice is shaking as he begs. “Take me instead, please. Take me.”   

“It’s okay baby.”   

Then the loud noise of gun being shot makes you flinch as you see the man falling backwards and lands on the ground in front of you. His daughter screaming for him and trying to grab him.   

You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing too easily you could be shot too.   

“You better send in some help or more people are gonna die.” The man tells the police calmly on the phone.   

You feel a shaky breath leave your body.   

They keep going back and forth and you hear the phone again.   

It feels like an out of body experience. You can’t think, barely can feel yourself breathing. If it wasn’t for the occasional heel clicking or unfortunate gun shot, you’d think it was a nightmare.   

The front door opens, and a man walks through a metal detector, he looks like medical personnel. The woman tries to pat him down, but the other robber is in the floor with a dying man screaming for help.   

The room in dead silent as you hear the man work, trying to save the robber on the ground.   

The room is starting to smell like blood and what you can only assume is the stench of death. You hate the iron that’s infiltrating your nostrils, and you’ve never thought of yourself to be queasy with gore, but this is real. Not a horror movie.   

There’s at least two dead men in front of you on the floor, a small girl sobbing into a strange woman, and soon to be another body.   

Another gunshot.   

You still flinch. The medics body now is dragged forward into the pile of dead men. Alongside the other robber. Four. Four dead men.   

You want to hurl. You are not built for this, that’s why you run a bookstore and cafe.   

“Everyone move forward!” the woman demands with a shout.   

You vaguely hear the phone ring again and you wonder when this will be over. Will they shoot all of them? Will they kill another person, five more? When does it end and what can the police even do?   

You’re starting to think this bank will be the last four walls you ever see. You have to blink back the tears and not let that thought overwhelm you.   

The man and woman are squabbling again. Turning on each other? You can’t really tell.   

“I wanna talk to the cop who shot my brother.”   

Well, there goes that tactic. No betrayals here... just possibly another dead officer.   

The man gets back on the phone and the back and forth goes on, he keeps demanding the officer, even offering to let hostages go. That feels far too good to be true though.   

One of the men near you gets dragged back, pulled over to the phone.   

“Come on bud, let’s go!”   

“Pick up the phone.” the robber demands.   

“Why?” the man’s shaking voice asks.   

“Pick up the phone!” he shouts, like he’s desperate.   

“Hello?” the man is clearly scared, voice shaking and small.   

“Tell him your name.”   

“It’s...” He swallows, “It’s Shawn Harper.”   

There’s another gun shot, and you wish you didn’t know what a body hitting the floor sounded like.   

And that makes five innocent bodies, and one dead robber.   

“Ugh, you just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you.” the man hisses through the phone.   

You’re going to hurl, what a sick thing to say.   

“I’m going to shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”   

You freeze. 

You try to close your eyes, and you’ve never been a very religious person... which is not common for someone from Georgia, but you find yourself begging to some god, or whoever, that you can make it out. You have to make it out.   

“Who’s next huh?”   

He grabs a woman and drags her back. Telling her to pick up the phone. Your body trembled as you tried desperately to block out the gunshot you knew you would hear.   

“Pick it up, come on. Pick it up.” he goads the woman, her sobs broken between her shaking breathes.   

“What’s your name?” he pressures.   

“No,” she gasps, “Please...” her voice broken.   

“Tell him your name!” he shouts at the woman.   

“Annie...” she gasps, swallowing a sob, “It’s Annie.”   

“Annie, you got about 30 seconds, I hope Agent Rossi doesn’t make me shoot you too.” he tells her, with fake sympathy in his voice.   

The man next to you decides that now is the time to chat. He turned to face the woman with children, he whispered something to her, and you can’t believe this man has lost his mind.   

“Hey! You! Come over here.” The robber yells at him, his gun pointing much too close to you for your liking.   

“Just let the women and children go. They don’t need to see this.” The man tried to negotiate with the robber.   

You almost scoffed, what did this guy think he was doing?   

“Pretty soon they’re gonna be doing a lot more than seeing.” The man hisses out, “Annie, you just got yourself a reprieve, get in line over there.”   

The robber grabs the man shoving him towards the phone and you sigh.   

“My name is Matthew Downs.” he speaks into the phone.   

Suddenly an officer walks through the door, his hands up in surrender.   

“Let those people go.” his accent is much thicker than yours, southern but he’s not from Georgia.   

“Alright, you, you, you, you-” he pushes the woman and two children next to you. “The kids, get out.”   

He sounds like a man who’s finally found release, like he’s getting what he’s always wanted.   

You watch the officer talk to the robbers, and you see him fall, two shots to his chest.   

You released a shaky gasp. The man, Matthew? Who was at the phone rushes over and grabs onto you. He directs you and forces you to put her hands on the officer.   

“Keep pressure on it.”   

You nod and follow his instruction easily.   

Matthew grabs the medical bag and starts instructing you on what to do. You're on the floor, holding a cloth and putting pressure heavily on the cop in front of you. He instructs the pressure is the most important and that’s what she does.   

She’s trying to breathe, steady her hands to be helpful. The officer on the ground keeps trying to talk and you are so close to panicking that you’re about to yell at this poor man bleeding out on the ground.   

“Are you armed?” Matthew asked him.   

“No.” He murmured, hissing in pain.   

“Damn... I think we might have something of a chance here.” your eyebrows were raised in surprise at his words.   

“What?” the cop looks just as confused.   

“The girls gone and the guys off his head. He doesn’t know who to trust. We can work them against each other.” Matthew whispered to both of them.   

“Wait are you a cop?” he tries to ask, still struggling.   

“A former marine.” Matthew grunts out.   

The officer is moving too much, and his blood is all over your hands. You can’t get the metallic smell out of your nose and you’re trying to keep it together.   

“You gotta listen to me, I need you to get a message to my girlfriend.” he tried to ask.   

“All right, you can tell her yourself when you get out of here.” Matthew reassures him.   

You huff and looks at the officer with determination, “I need you to not think in only death, okay? Everything looks a little bleak right now and I really need some kind of hope to hold on to. There are already five dead bodies, don’t make it six.” you hiss out at him.   

“Only I’m not getting outta here... you need someone to cause a distraction.” he murmured trying to sit up.   

“What are you doing?!” you try to push him back down but he’s surprisingly resilient for someone who was just shot.   

“Her name is Jennifer, and she’s a federal agent. You tell her I’m sorry.” the cop tells Matthew.   

The two continue to go back and forth and you can’t bother to get yourself off the ground. You're watching this officer like he’s gone mad.   

He walks on shaky legs, hobbling over to the robber. He goads him, pushing the man. Turning his trust around on its head.   

Then the robbers walking off with him to the back, and they’ve left an opening for them to escape.   

Matthew bends down to help you off the ground and shoves you out the door, and suddenly you can breathe again. Officers swarm them and escort them off to the safety of a police barricade.   

You look around, taking in the massive amounts of vans, officers, the FBI agents, and swat team.   

You're watching them move in, trying to do their jobs. Arrest the bad guys... but you watch with wide eyes the massive explosion that destroys the inside of the bank. Shooting debris out onto the ground. It really hits you, like a massive punch to your gut, how lucky you are to even be alive.   

You’re with the rest of the survivors, huddled near one of the police cruisers, all of them waiting for medics to check them and for other cops to take statements. It’s all just a blur. Everything is happening too fast and too slowly all at once. You don’t even know what the time is or how long you’ve been trapped in that bank.   

Then through the fog of your head you see something so familiar you have to do a double take to believe it.    

Spencer.   

Your Spencer, coming out of a federal vehicle in a bullet proof vest reading FBI. You'll blame the adrenaline later, but your feet start walking away from the safety of your spot and it’s like tunnel vision. you're running, and while you hear people yelling, you can’t stop. Your only goal is Spencer, he was a lifeline in this moment. A grounding figure in your shock.   

“Spencer?” your feet pound on the pavement, the loud commotion around you fading into a buzzing sound behind you. “Spencer!” you shout at him.    

With laser focus he finds you, his face filled with relief but even more worry.   

Spencer had seen you on the cameras, and it took every fiber of his being to not immediately want to drive down to barge in for you. He knew, logically, he was better helping out Garcia and looking over the maps. Every time Spencer heard a gunshot; it was a jolt of panic as his eyes scanned the cameras making sure it wasn’t you. You couldn’t die. Spencer doesn’t think he could recover from that. You’re bright and kind and the last person who deserved to be in this kind of hostage situation.    

Every second felt like an hour and his brain was whirling a million different scenarios.    

“Y/N,” he meets you halfway, holding your arms and walking you back to safety.    

“You can’t be here, this isn’t safe.” He tells you sternly, his brow furrowed in a deep line. It’s an expression you've never seen, so serious. His eyes flashed over your body trying to check if you were okay. He freezes when he sees the blood caked on your hands. He gently grabbed your hands, and it made you look down.   

“It’s not mine.” you murmured quietly.   

Spencer sighed in relief and looked back at you with more determination.   

“Just stay with the officers, okay? They will keep you safe. I promise I’ll explain but I have to do my job.” He tells you; he’s navigated you back to where you started, and he hands you off to a medic.   

You want to argue with him, but his tone leaves no room for it and your energy is fading.    

“Make sure she’s looked at.” He told the medic in a fiercely intense tone.   

“Stay with them. I will explain...later.” he said giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he turns to leave.    

You have no energy left to try to argue. You’re just filled with exhaustion as the medic checks your vitals. You vaguely hear him talking to you, but you can’t pay attention. Your eyes never left Spencer as you follow him. He works his way around like it's second nature.   

For a moment, you realized there’s a whole part of his life that you had no idea about... he’d never told you.   

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, you don’t touch your phone until it’s well into the late evening. Seeing missed calls from so many people. You can only find it in yourself to call your dad.    

“Magpie? Magpie, please tell me you’re okay.” Your dad’s voice rings through, warbled like he’s about to cry. Big Joe isn’t a crier, he just never has been. A pang of guilt shoots through you because you feel guilty for not calling sooner.    

“I’m, I’m safe daddy, I’m at the station.” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the smoke and underuse.    

“Oh, thank god.” The sigh of relief speaks more than his words do.   

“I’ll be home tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave...”    

“Come home as soon as you can sweetie.”   

“I love you daddy.” your voice shakes, and it’s watery, almost on the verge of tears.   

“I love you too. Come home safe, and I mean it.” His voice is firm, but filled with warmth and it has you cracking her foundation. Tears escaped your eyes.    

She wipes them away furiously, trying to save her waterworks for when she’s alone tonight and processing what the hell even happened today.   

By the time you hang up you see a small group entering the police station, and there's a familiar mop of brown hair.    

Spencer beelines towards you. You stand to meet him, and you’re enveloped in a tight hug and whispers you can’t hear against your neck.   

“You’re safe, you’re safe.” You hear him chanting and from how he’s holding you, you realize he’s saying it for his benefit.   

The two stand in silence, holding onto each other. You really couldn’t care about the onlookers. You almost died over a stupid bank robbery; you were going to hug your best friend.   

“So, is every day this scary for you?” you asked quietly.   

“Kind of part of the job.” he chuckled moving back to look you over. His sharp eyes trying to see if there was something wrong, if you were injured.    

“So, FBI?” you tilt your head with a raised brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fed.” you teased, trying to ease the tension.   

“Behavioral Analysis Unit, specifically.” He adds.   

Your eyebrows raise, “Jesus, I need a sedative...” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”   

Spencer just shrugged, “I just needed somewhere that was for me, yeah know? Keep the work out of the personal?”    

You nodded, “Yeah well, I’d would have liked to know that when my best friends out of town, it could be life threatening.” you said with a small fake punch to his arm.    

“You worry enough about too much. Don’t worry about me.” he told you firmly.    

“That’s easier said than done.” you murmured with a frown.    

“Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure Big Joe’s worried sick.” Spencer said moving to grab your hand and lead you out.    

You just nod and follow behind him.   

-   

“Spencer, are you sure this is okay? I mean I don’t know anyone.” You asked trying to straighten out your dress.    

Spencer was behind the driver's seat in a tuxedo of his own and he was looking at your nervous gestures. He reaches over to hold your hands and squeezes.    

“I know it’s okay. Besides, you might as well meet everyone. I was going to introduce you to Garcia at the convention anyway.” He shrugs casually.     

“I promise they don’t bite; besides, you definitely know Will.” he said with a faint smirk.   

“Spencer Reid that does not count! I was applying pressure to make sure the man didn’t bleed out all over the floor of that bank!” you huff in irritation.    

“I promise you’ll get along, and if I don’t Morgan’s going to start thinking I’m taking out call girls after work.” He frowns in mild annoyance.   

“Wow, glad to know you think I'm a step up from call girl.” you said jokingly, reaching over to pat his arm. “Great pep talk Spence.”   

You move to get out of the car your giggles following. Spencer fumbles to escape the car.    

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he tried to explain.    

You put your hand up, “It’s fine, come on my nerves are definitely gone now.”   

Spencer just smiled at you, watching you smooth out your starry sky dress. The deep blue complimenting her as silver stars dangle from your ears.    

“I’ll stop while I’m ahead.” he said.    

“Good call.”   

Spencer walks you up to Rossi’s house, well, mansion. Your eyes widened a bit before turning to him.    

“Bestselling author... for multiple books.” he confirmed.    

He takes you out to the back to greet everyone’s who's there. You're distracted by the large space and beautiful displays. The flower petals on the ground, the beautiful tables, not to mention an open bar. Spencer gently guides you over to his team Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan who are gathered in a small circle.   

Before Spencer can introduce you Morgan’s already looking you up and down.   

“So, you're the little friend Reid wouldn’t tell us about?” He points at you before returning his hand to his pocket. Morgan’s charming and mischievous smile on his face.   

There’s a gasp, and Garcia gives a small, excited jump, “The bookstore girl!” She almost shouts at you. “You’re gorgeous!” She moved to hold your hands and made you do a small spin to look at your dress. “So sparkly, I like!”   

Morgan leaned over to Reid, “She might have already started drinking...”   

“Can’t believe you’d keep us a secret Reid.” Hotch teased, his arm resting around Beth’s waist pressing her closer to his side.   

“You’re all vultures, every single one. No privacy with you guys.” Spencer told them shaking his head.   

“You’re lucky you lasted this long, if I had known just a little more, I could have looked into her.”   

“That's... exactly what I’m talking about Garcia...” Spencer sighs heavily.   

“I’m Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you guys.” You introduce yourself with a smile and a small laugh.   

“So, a bookstore?” Morgan raised his brow in question.   

“Yeah! I co-own the Midnight Owl. It’s a bookstore and cafe that is open late nights to offer a space for book loving insomniacs like myself.” you said cheerfully.   

“That explains how Reid met you.” Rossi’s voice drifts in as he comes up to meet Spencer’s new friend.   

He extends his hand out to shake yours. “David Rossi, nice to meet you.”     

You give him a warm smile, “Thank you for hosting, your home is beautiful.”   

You leave Spencer for a while going to walk off with Penelope as the blonde leads you to the open bar.   

“How long have you been friends with Reid?” she asked.   

You take a sip from your drink and think, “Three years, going on four.”   

Penelope’s brows go up, “Oh he’s been keeping you a verrrrrry big secret.”   

You roll your eyes, “Well he regretted to inform me his day job was being an FBI agent.”   

“Does it matter?” The blonde asked tilting her head.   

You could feel Penelope’s piercing protective gaze on you. You shake your head. “No obviously not. He’s my best friend. I just... will probably worry ten times more about him now.” you admit.   

“They’re the best team I know.” Penelope tells you softly.   

“Won’t stop me from worrying, but thanks for trying.” you give a half smile before taking another sip.   

“I worry too, constantly.” She stage whispers to you.  

You bubble into laughter and the two make their way back over to the small group.   

Other groups of people were trickling into the back yard filling up space and chattering.   

Spencer’s nowhere to be found with his coworkers and you try to search for him, finally finding him crouched next to a small blonde child. You excuse yourself and make your way over.   

You tilt your head as you watch Spencer roll a ring between his fingers in front of the child and make the ring disappear and reappear before the boy's eyes. 

“Go on Henry,” he ruffles the blonde’s hair, “Time to go be the ring bearer. It’s a very important job.” Spencer ushers Henry off.   

“You just keep surprising me.” you whispered walking over to him.   

Spencer shrugs, “There’s a lot to find out.” he replied.   

“Have you always been this good with kids?” you asked.   

Spencer smiled, “I love them.” The way that he says it, you can see how much he wants that. To be a dad. To be in love.   

“I think you’ll make a great dad one day, if that’s anything to go by.” you tell him.   

Spencer just brushed the comment off and led you over to the altar.   

“Who knows, maybe one day.”   

[zablife]

@brummiereader That opening scene was quite chilling, knowing the truth about poor Mr. Wyatt as Y/n attempts to check on him 😬 When Tommy appears asking about her call, I couldn't help but think if she didn't confide in him, he'd make the necessary call to the switchboard operator (That is if he hadn't already!) But I must say, the thing that haunts me most is how he switches the charm on and off in front of their daughter!! The change in him always makes me shiver bc it indicates he knows exactly how he's behaving.

"The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" The way my jaw dropped and rage flew over me as soon as I read that 😡 And she believes he has a point?? She's clearly more brainwashed than I realized 😥 His taunts at the end about her foiled plans for independence are utterly heartbreaking.

Somehow I knew the visit to the school would also be her fault. It enraged me further to know Tommy is blaming Y/n once again for disrupting the household. And then he says, "So, she's got Arthur's temper." He's never willing to take the blame for anything is he???

I have to admit that I was shocked he allowed the detective to live (tho I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he's dealt with). Loving the repetition of his thought about keeping her safe bc it's a window into his delusional mind. I'm sure he does believe every rotten action of his is justified!

The scene when he talks to her sleeping form was SO GOOD!! But I had to wonder, where is this tenderness when she's awake? The constant need for control would be utterly suffocating. I mean, he's gone thru her entire wardrobe and thrown out what he won't allow her to wear? HUGE red flag!! No wonder she needs the whisky to get thru the following evening, attempting to play the happy wife.

"John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads." I was dying at this bit! Ofc everyone would be dreading a night with Linda's friends and family 🤭 And then the hymns begin? OMG, I roared bc what must they think of this wayward lot? But my amusement was short lived as I realized what had become of Y/n's admirer. Johnny Dogs is starting to frighten me as much as Tommy tbh!

" I love you..." " I never stopped...never" Another jaw dropping moment as Tommy uses an unfair advantage to coax the sentiment out of her! At first, I believed it was just the bliss of the moment, but then I realized she'd been longing for him (a fate much worse imo). "for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by." This was such a powerful moment to understand all the conflicting emotions she feels. All I could think was, God, it must be exhausting to be married to him!

That discovery at the end was by far my fave tho bc it scared the living shit out of me! She's seen the graves and she knows about the murders 😱 Oh no!! You leave us on a terrifying cliffhanger, darling! But I admit I loved every second. Already looking fwd to more (I just hope I can handle it 😬)

Binding Love (Part Four/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After another eventful morning, and onslaught of demanding questions from your husband. Linda and Arthur's engagement party has you unexpectedly seeing another side of your husband, the side you continue to yearn for. But with revealing his former self to you, comes revelations that will horrify you.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, smut.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: Sorry this chapter is late everyone. I had a busy week and not enough time to write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" When he turns up, can you have him call me?" your voice echoed down the line, fingers nervously twiddling with the twisted wire of the phone as you bit the corner of your bottom lip.

Last minute Larry his secretary had joked, you thought to yourself, reassuring your concerns as you placed the receiver down onto its brassy stand.

You just wanted to apologise, just wanted to hear the end of the nagging worries that had plagued you for the entirety of the night.

For Tommy had not only embarrassed you the previous evening with his raging paranoia, he had scared you. Scared you in a way that had your stomach turn, had you begin to fear for your own safety and the fate of your future, he held forever in his hands.

" Who was that?" your eyes snapped open to the sound of your husband's gravely voice ripiling down the curve of your neck, the lapels of his suit jacket gently brushing across the back of your flowing dress.

" No one" you flatly replied, your attempts to leave stopped by your husband's snaking hand slipping around your stomach.

" Don't lie to me, sweetheart" you felt the heat of his breath fan over your ear as he turned you around to face him.

Stood face to face, his looming frame pressed tightly against your heaving chest, forcing a suffocating response from you as you watched his gaze slowly drift to the telephone, brow cocking as he waited for your answer. " Well?"

"Mr Wyatts secretary. I just wanted to apologise, for leaving so...abruptly, last night" you chose your words wisely, choosing not to further rile his unpredictable temper up with lies he'd undoubtedly sive out as you attempted to pull away from his searching eyes.

" And how is, Mr Wyatt?" Tommy let go as his hand slipped into his jacket for a cigarette, clearing his throat of the curling smirk toying on the corner of his lips as he scooted his muddy boot away from you and the evidence of his nightly hobbies.

" Fine. He's fine" you replied, brow scrunching at his shuffling feet and usually pristine footwear inching away, when your intentions to be honest were overruled by a profund urge within you to not give your smug husband the satisfaction of thinking he'd gotten to someone.

But unbeknownst to you, he had gotten to someone. Gotten to someone in the most sinful, most derranged of ways that ended with a dead body and a trail of mud leading to his crime scene.

" Is that so, eh?" He took a lingering drag of the tobacco rolled between his fingers, blowing a cloud of smoke to the towering ceilings of your home before his eyes drifted down to meet yours with a glistening stare of mischievousness.

How sweet, how...Innocent, he thought to himself with amusement as your heart froze with a gut wrenching feeling of doubt that the previous night hadn't ended with Tommy's parting words and the slam of your bedroom door.

" Ay up, buttercup" Tommy's smirks left you with a sense of dread as his attention drifted to your daughter, nudging herself between your bodies,  beaming up at her parents with a dimpled smile. " How's my girl, eh?"

" Suited and booted, Daddy" she replied with all the seriousness her rosy cheeked pout could muster.

" Right come on then, little soldier. Let's go" Tommy jostled in his pocket for his car keys as the loving smile for your six year old suddenly dropped from your face.

" Wait, i'm...i'm taking her" you looked back at your husband with a scrunched brow of annoyance, reinforcing your intentions with a firm hand to his chest to stop him from invading your morning routine, a routine you was adamant on keeping.

" The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" he played the doting father as he watched your fingers fall from his chest, a wave of shame reddening your cheeks.

" They want to speak with us, together" he grabbed your parting hand, closing the gap between you.

" But you would have known that if you were ever home, with your family" his blazing eyes of turquoise, still seething with jealousy from the previous day, bore into you with a hushed statement of blame.

Was he right? Had you been spending less time at home? Less time with your daughter? It was one evening...one. Or had it...had it been more than that? Your mind began to torment you with the seeds of doubt Tommy had sewn, for the confusion beginning to fester away at your already weary thoughts.

Playing you so harmously in tune to the sound of his own fiddle, you stepped away, your searching hand reaching for your daughter with a look of worry settled between your brow as you racked your brain over the last six months worth of tangled memories.

" Not gonna take the bus then? Get there on your own, on your own terms, after that song and dance you made last night, hm?" His pettiness came to a simmer as he stalked towards you, unwilling to let you forget how angry you had made him, how he had been forced to make such drastic decsions on your behalf to keep you safe.

Feeling the pull of Elsie's hand, giving you no choice but to let Tommy have his satisfaction upon seeing you give in, you followed your daughter without a peep of defiance to the car with your husband's passing comments whispering in your ear. 

" That new life of yours lasted long, didn't it, darling?"

Unable to dodge the talking down from the headmaster you was sure you was about to get, you and Tommy got pulled to the side as your daughter joined her classmates for the day's activities.

" So?" Tommy huffed as he pulled out his pocket watch from within his waistcoat, convinced that whatever the man had to say was not worth his time nor patience.

" It's about your daughter's behaviour" the words of the suited man plunged your motherly worries into your stomach in one quick, sudden drop.

" What...what has she done?" You stepped forward from Tommy's side, concerned as to what had been so grave it warrented both you and your husband's prescence.

" Not only has she been misbehaving, Mr and Mrs Shelby, but she took it upon herself to pick the roses in the school yard during lunch yesterday. Earning her a detention, I assume you are both unaware of" his nose rose above his framed glasses as he judged not only your supposedly unruly child but you and Tommy, her unruly parents.

" You had my daughter sent to detention for picking a fucking flower?" Tommy stepped in front of you, brow furrowing at the punishment inflicted on your child for something he believed to be innocent, if not expected of any little girl or boy of her age.

" They were very special flowers, Mr..Mr Shelby. A school project, participated in by all the students" all superiority, his position as head teacher began to disapate as he caught sight of your husband's gun concealed beneath the heavy lapels of his coat.

" You're wasting our fucking time" Tommy scoffed, turning to leave with a guiding hand to your back, refusing to entertain the ridiculousness of the conversation and its supposed urgency.

" Tommy" you rested a gentle hand to his arm, a soothing enough touch to simmer the anger within him and have him take note of your welling eyes of worry.

" I'll have my gardener come and plant new ones. Better ones. We done now, Mr...?" Tommy waved his hand in front of him, swallowing back his irritation for your sake, if only to have the feeling of you seeking his support for a mere second longer, to feel that you needed him again. 

" Mr Shelby, that will not solve your daughter's naughtiness. I've become aware of some news as of late. I must ask, is everything ok at home?" The head of the school pressed, daring to rile your husband up with his relentless questions.

" What was that, eh?" Your husband's patience with the matter in hand suddenly snapped into a demanding need to know what exactly possessed the man in front of him to ask such a thing.

" Well, I...heard that you were..." He stumbled out his response, suddenly conscious of how far he had pushed his questions as you tried to pull Tommy back from cracking his skull open.

" Married" Tommy pointed his finger as his body loomed over the man unable to keep to his own business and not prod into that of the notorious brummie gangster.

" We're leaving" a hand to your back had you rushing out the corridor as you stopped yourself from pushing his anger to boiling point with the true state of your marriage and your impending demands of divorce, yet to be settled.

" Fuck 'em, Y/N" he ushered you outside to the car.

" We'll change schools, to a private one" he settled the problem his money could solve, refusing to face the true issue.

" Fucking flowers..." He scoffed, reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette to simmer his anger.

" Me and Arthur did far more than pick a few daisies to earn us detention, darling" a chuckle left his lips as he pulled out his lighter, eyes darting to the school he'd be inclined to see go up in flames, flowers and all.

" It's not about that, Tommy" you sighed as you watched his straining fingers attempt to light the flame in the drizzle that had turned into a lashing of rain.

" So, she's got Arthur's temper" he waved off your concerns, mumbling through the cigarette perched between his lips as his failing attempts to light it saw his patience dwindling.

" Your temper more like. Shelby temper" you huffed with folded arms, brow creasing as you watched his thumb repeatedly flick over the lighter's metal head without success.

" Tommy she's acting out, she's seeing too much.  Us arguing, us fighti..."

" What do you want me do, eh Y/N?!" your husband snapped, throwing his soggy cigarette to the ground.

" You wanted this, not me!" he grabbed you by your arms as the pelting rain battered down onto your shoulders.

" Fuck Y/N, you really think...you really think I would give you up that easily? Let you leave me without a fight?" his head dropped down with a sigh of exhaustion as a silence washed over you with the rivers of water streaming past your feet.

" What are we doing, Tommy?" What are we doing to our little girl?" you began to sob, feeling his fingers clutch onto your arms, pulling you down with the weight of his body as his heavy shoulders slouched forward.

" Lets go home" he refused to answer as his head came up to meet the tears streaming down your cheeks, hand brushing the sorrowful sight of your drenched locks from your face.

" I'll walk" you pulled away with disappointment, turning to leave from the conversation you could never move past as his way continued to demand all control.

" Make my own way, remember? Get there on my own. So I can think, alone" you left him with the words he had spoken that morning, a string of words said in passing by him but ones that still continued to sting you.

" It's pissing it down, you'll get sick. Get in, I'll drive you home" you pushed off his attempts to usher you into the warmth of the car as you walked into the downpour.

" It'll do you know good to think alone Y/N. Y/N! " Tommy stood in the rain watching you walk away from him once again before nodding to his man lingering near by in an unspoken order to have him follow you when the insufferable sight of the detective that had be hassling you came into view, body propped up against the door of his car.

Always fucking there. Always trying to get to you, Tommy slammed his door shut as his eyes narrowed in, fingers turning the silver key in the ignition with only one plan of action in mind. 

Foot pressed on the accelerator, Tommy sped towards him, swerving into his car with controlled prescion as the screeching tires skidding across the concrete came mere centimetres away from taking him out. A clear show of dominance by your husband, to prove to the inquisitive officer that nothing was beneath him, nothing he wouldn't do to keep the upper hand, to have you keep quiet.

He was just keeping you safe. Keeping everyone...safe.

Aching muscles and a sniveling nose, sick from your long pensive walk in the rain back to Arrow House, hadn't been on your list of things to endure before Linda and Arthur's engagement doo that evening. And with Tommy being right about the likely outcome of your stubbornness and refusal to have him drive you home, you had decided to drown yourself within the comfort of your bed than see the satisfaction on his face.

Curled up in within the freshly laundered sheets, you let yourself drift off to sleep as the man whose smugness you couldn't stand to face watched from the bedroom door, glass of water in hand with only a face of conern etched between his brows than the cockiness you thought you'd be met with.

" I hate to tell you I told you so, love" he quietly sighed as he padded towards you, placing the crystal tumbler on your bedside cabinet.

Perching himself on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own worries pushing his body down into the soft mattress as he ran his fingers through the length of his hair, pulling at the strands of stress.

" I can't help myself, darling" he confessed his lack of self-control in the silence, taking the opportunity to lay bare his sins as he watched you peacefully sleep, your mind momentarily free from the stress, from the shouting and arguing.

" Everything I do..." He stopped himself as he pinched his brow of the inner turmoil he felt. " Everthing I've done, it's been for you" he lifted his hand, inching it closer to your face and the lone twisted lock of hair resting on your cheek.

" I'm trying, love" he quietly added, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions scrambling up his throat, fully aware of his unpredictable temper that saw him doing the unspeakable, wholeheartedly believing his bloody hands were stained in your honour, for your safety.

" I'm just a man" he dulled his actions, justified his merciless slayings with his mortal, imperfect form as he brushed the lone ringlet of hair from your fluttering lashes.

"Y/N?" a part of him hoped you were listening, hoped you had heard his admissions of guilt.

" One day you'll forgive me" he snatched his hand away from your resting body, clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to flee his exposed vulnerabilities he felt foolish for laying bare as you began to stir in your sleep.

But rest was far from what you awoke to. For what was supposed to be a relieving sleep, turned into a thumping headache, drilling into the sides of your skull.

" Fuck" you huffed, lifting yourself from the covers as you forgoed the glass of water sitting on the table for the bottle of whiskey behind it.

If you were going to get through tonight, through Linda's obnoxious happiness, the reminder of your strained relationship, through this pummeling heachache, you would do it half conscious, you thought to yourself as you swigged back the amber liquid.

" Frances, what ever would I do without you?" your eyes drifted to the dress hooked on your bathroom door, your trusted housekeeper had managed to find for you after Tommy took it upon himself to rid you of anything that showed an inch of skin.

Fingers gliding over the silky crimson gown, you admired the beauty of the garment in front of you. It's soft fabric running through your palms until you came to a stop at the slit that Frances had sewn up after Tommy's demands.

Too high, too low, too much on show, Tommy's disaproving words rang in your head after the countless times he'd given his unwarranted opinions on your latest purchases.

At first you were flattered, flattered by his boyish jealousy that you'd comply. But when his jealousy came with a dousing of paranoia, and questions over who exactly you were dressing for, you began to resent the passionate show of love he'd shown.

Downing the last of the whiskey you threw the empty bottle on your bed before sizing up the satin dress and it's seemless sewing.

" There..." your face twisted as you pulled at the fabric, ripping the slit open and its looping threads one by one.

" That's better" you pulled the dress from its hanger, proping it up against your body to see your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and the provacating point you wanted to make.

Whether it be the whiskey that had fuelled your actions, the thumping headache or your frustrations with yourself for not standing your ground. One thing was sure, you was adamant on matching Tommy's pettiness and show him the true meaning of jealousy and the stark difference between what he believed was you challenging him.

" Tommy, don't" Ada's hushed voice turned to him, blocking your husband's eyes honed in on you giggling into the shoulder of a guest. A male guest. " She's just..."

"Trying to wind me up?" Tommy stepped away from his younger sister to see you glancing over at him, hips turning for him to see the provocking sight of your dress the way it was intended to be worn and not how he had Frances adjust it to his liking.

"...letting her hair down" Ada sighed, scooting herself back into his line of sight to save you from his glaring anger.

" Letting her hair down. Is that what that's called, eh?" he scoffed, tipping his glass in your direction, to the man accompanying you. The same man enthusiastically tending to your every need in a handsy display that had you flinch away, spilling the flute of champagne down yourself.

"Clumsy, clumsy" he chuckled, leering in as he pulled out his hankie to wipe the spilt droplets of bubbly that had trickled down your exposed thigh.

" Shit" Ada sighed, her protective stance not enough for her brothers fox-like eyes to see red the moment the gentleman beside you took it upon himself to dab away your clumsiness.

"It's ok, really" your panicked hands pulled the handkerchief from him as the shine of his gold cufflinks, encrusted with ruby gems caught your eye when a set of heavy footsteps appeared through your lashes. 

" What are you playing at, eh?!" Tommy snatched you away to the darkened corner underneath your winding foyer stairs.

" Nothing" you huffed, lifting your glass to your painted lips with a pout, feeling your legs sway from side to side as the champagne and half bottle of whiskey you had chugged earlier began to take effect.

" I know what you're doing" he snatched the crystal glass from your hand, tossing it's contents on a nearby leafy houseplant, unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" Good. Is it working?" Your brow arched, unable to stop the emerging teen girl from your younger years trying to rile up her boyfriend of one week.

" Yes" Tommy's response took you by surprise, his battered eyes tired of arguing, catching you off guard as his finger trailed up your bare leg, closing the silky fabric around your exposed skin to save your modesty. " I came to you earlier. Did you hear me whe..."

" Speeches, everyone! My Artie wants to say something" Linda's voice broke the tiny glimpse into your past, your husband's soft voice only reserved for you, free from demands, from the constant bickering that had taken over your daily life.

"Y/N, wait..." His reaching hand held onto the tips of your fingers, backing away to join the happy couple as Tommy's breathy sighs followed you, his change in mood confusing you enough to put up your guard in fear that his unexpected move was just another calculated step in his unwinnable game of toing and froing with your emotions.

Was Tommy finally done? Too tired to fight?

 " 'ere's to Arthur and Linda" everyone drew a breath as John's tipsy speech came to its highly anticipated end. His waving hand, gesturing a toast to the happy couple, seeing the last of his gin at the feet of Linda's emmaculate heels.

Too much joy, too much happiness for any Shelby family member to endure, John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads. 

"Right, yeh...thanks John boy" Arthur's twitching moustache and gangly legs rose from his seat only for his brother to pipe up with another string of words he'd have heard. 

"One last thing, yeh" he clapped his hands together as you felt the gentlemen that had been lingering close to you all night scoot along the plush settee next to you. A move that had you slipping half of your seat away from his unwarranted attention you no longer sought out to irritate your husband with. 

"May yous two one day 'ave the love of your hosts tonight. Alright lads, have at it. Bottoms up!" your heart raced at Johns drunken speech, watching him bring his empty glass up to his lips as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment at your and Tommy's contradicting relationship being made a highlight of the evening.

" Right John, let's get you some water" Ada hurried to her rambling brother, ushering him away from over indulging himself in anymore of Tommy's cellar full of booze as she mouthed her silent apologies to you.

" Never have I seen a love like that. It breaks my bloody heart, Ada. Breaks me 'art!" John's passionate speech continued as your welling eyes drifted up to the pining pare of your husband's and the impact your brother-in-law's unexpected words had mutually effected you both.

" Yes, we're all very heartbroken. Now, shut up" you heard the last of Ada's motherly tone drift from the room as one of Linda's guests took it upon themselves to drone out the awkward silence with an equally awkward, droning hym to top off the disastrous evening.

"The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee..." 

Head downcast, you let your tears fall into your lap as the singing commenced, desperately trying to hide your seeping emotions and the slit in your dress with fumbling fingers as you glanced up at Tommy gesturing you with a tilt of his head to join him, to let him comfort you.

But with a downfall of tears worthy of the storm battering against the windows from outside, you fled from your seat to the empty confides of your foyer as Tommy lept up after you.

"Wher...where are you going?" the man that had hounded you all evening followed in suit, furious his intended fuck for night was getting away as Tommy shot his trusted friend Dogs a silent command to deal with the unwelcome guest until he'd checked on you. 

" Are you a gambling man?" Johnny's chesire grin and looping arm wrapped around the gentleman's shoulders, guiding him out of Arrow Houses back door down to its vast landscape, and woody end. 

" Five shillings here, says you won't be able to outrun..." the rules of Dogs game drifted outside with his steady steps into the night sky, until the faint shrieks of a scream could be heard amongst the improtu singing from within the warmth of your home. 

Letting yourself fall into bed, you buried your head in your pillow as the soft click of the door closed and the dwindling sounds of the party faded out to Tommy's body settling itself next to you on the plush covers. 

" Hey shh, c'mere" he pulled you into his chest, your reluctance rapidly fading as you nestled your cheek against his body. Needing the gentle side of your husband he'd let free for the evening to soothe the pang of heartache you felt, for the memories of the love you shared that had resurfaced after John's blundering speech.

" Bloody John, eh?" his chest rose with a chuckle, lacing his fingers in your hair as he inched his body closer to you when a stifled sob left your throat.

" I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so tired of everything" you sniffed, pawing at the cascade of unstoppable tears streaming down your cheeks with frustration as your husband gently lifted your chin to him. 

" I know, darling" his voice echoed the sentiments you felt as he took over from your shakey hands, and gently wiped the pools of sadness from your lashes. 

Eyes gazing longingly into each others, Tommy bet against any rejection you'd see his ego take another dramatic fall with, and pressed a chase kiss to your lips as you pulled your head away. 

" Stop. Just stop ..." he sighed, turning you back to face him as his fingers glided down your neck, drawing you in with his tender touch. 

" I love you" his nose brushed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, hands gently squeezing at your body with his mouth agape with anticipation. 

" Don't say you don't either" he swallowed back, fingers trailing under the curves of your breasts as he let out a breathy moan.

" I don't" you let the last of your tears fall from your cheeks as you abruptly turned your back to him, pushing his needy hands away. 

" You're lying" he huffed, letting his head fall back against the silk cushion, arm rested above the lengths of his hair as he brushed along the bar of frustration across his brow. 

" So those tears didn't mean anything then, eh? " he abruptly turned to slot his body behind you, lips kissing along your neck as he burrowed his hand under the cleavage of your dress, cupping your breast in his hand with a squeeze. 

Eyes shooting open, you clawed at the bed sheets as a surge of pleasure rushed through your body, head dizzy with the image of your husband gently thrusting himself into your clothed body in the reflection of your bedroom window. 

" Say it, Y/N. Say you love me, say you still want me, need me" his voice moaned with urgency as his eyes flew up to yours in the weathered glass.

"I don't..." Your voice hitched in a pitiful attempt to lie through your feelings as you pushed back to meet his straining erection pressed against your body. 

In one swift movement, Tommy ripped the front of your dress, exposing your body for him to see in your shared reflection as your hand flew to his thigh, nails digging through the tailored fabric. 

" Lies, all lies" he hissed, encouraged by the sweet sounds of your whimpers he'd longed to hear again. " Say it. Say it so we can forget about it all, about everything" 

" I..." you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to repress the strangled moan he was adamant on coaxing from you as he rolled his thumb around your stiffened nipple. 

" I love you..." your voice cracked, eyes opening to the sudden feeling of your husband's hands coming to a stop as you stared back with teary eyes at him in the backdrop of the starry skies, reflecting your bodies in the window of your bedroom. " I never stopped...never"

Flipping you onto your back, Tommy's lips crashed onto yours in a seering kiss of passion, ridding you of what was left of your clothes and the suit that had him seperating himself from the heat of your body. 

Hips snapping into you with each carefully positioned thrust, Tommy was adamant on making you forget, adamant on fucking you until he was convinced of your admission, until his paranoia let him believe it. 

"No more fucking divorce, eh?" He groaned, pushing his throbbing cock into the depths of you as his body rippled with pleasure. 

"No more separate rooms" his snapping hips sped up, causing a string of muffled moans to leave your swollen lips as you let yourself be free of the stress he'd induced.

"No more, Y/N. Say it?" He brought your legs up against his sweaty chest, lifting your lower body of the bed as he thrusted into you with abandon. Muscled arms straining, face scrunched as he desperately restrained himself from falling over the edge without an answer.

"Fuck...say it, sweetheart" He breathed heavily on the edge of blissful defeat as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. Both pining for each other, to feel at one with another like nothing had happened, like the many months worth of distress and arguing hadn't seperated you. 

" No more...no more!" your head flew back to your cushion, hands grabbing at the sheets as he brought you to a heated ecstasy of pleasure, spilling months worth of longing into you with a strangled grunt as he threw his head back in relief. 

Giving up, giving in. In that moment, not a thought or regret was spent caring. Tangled emotions and misplaced promises would be dealt with tomorrow. But for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by.

Pulling you into his lap, Tommy brushed his tongue against yours as he reached between your sweating bodies to grab hold of his hardening cock, pulling you down onto him as his fiery breath bristled against your ear and he made his intentions known for the night.

"Again" 

" And these flowers I can pick?" Your daughter skipped alongside you as you made your way down to the gardens. 

" Yes, once they've bloomed, you can pick all of them. Every, single, one" you bent down to her little frame, sending her a playful wink as she ran off with an excited shriek. 

Keeping a watchful eye on your daughter as she collected every mismatch stick she could find through the treeline to border her very own rose garden, your hand slipped across your stomach, hugging your body with a blissful smile as you recounted the passionate evening you had spent with Tommy last night.

" Mummy, we have moles!" Your daughter's voice alerted you to her discovery as you pulled yourself from your heated thoughts. " Fat ones!" 

" Elsie!" You called back, weaving yourself through the towering trees, treading carefully along the woodlands grassy bedding, when a shining gold cufflink caught your eye.  

" Mummy, come look!" She excitedly shouted as you bent down to the curious object out of place amongst the woody surroundings, it's ruby encrusted focal point sparking a hazy memory within you. " They must be giants!" 

"Giant moles, are you..." You laughed only to grab her by the hand and pull her back when you came face to face with the three heaps of mud in a line next to each other. 

"Here mummy, daddy's" she gave you the matching cufflink she'd found on top of the freshly unearthed mountain, assuming the small piece of jewellery could belong to no one else but her father. 

" Elsie....come" your eyes widened, pulling her away from what was not mole hills but graves. Three graves, each with distingualble shades of dirt, in a haunting timeline of murder that had stretched over many days, if not weeks. 

The officer. The businessman. Unheard of since their encounters with you, your horrified eyes looked at the growing graveyard, convinced of who lay beneath each plot and their enforcers muddy boots, and remarks that trailed themselves back to their murder scene, when the clouds cleared your fogged memory about the small trinkets nestled within your palm. The gentlemen...

Hands clutching the cufflinks piercing against your reddening skin, your welling eyes unable to blink through the terror you felt had you pacing up the hill with shaky legs as your daughter ran ahead. 

"Daddy!" she lept into the arms of Tommy making his way down to meet you with a content smile, body and soul free of his sins.

" Everything ok, darling?" he pressed a tender kiss to your lips as your stance stiffened, hand releasing the cufflinks from behind you back into the grassy lawn as your shakey voice answered...

" Perfect" 

 

Next Part coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica

[alpoocka]

After roleplaying with different perspectives on the character, I realized I wanted to talk a little about my vision of Vanessa

I think these two were very anxious, but it manifested itself in different ways. They both want to do the best, but if Prince tries to explain everything as specifically as possible, talking a lot and gesturing, to avoid misunderstandings with the interlocutor, Vanessa simply does not start a conversation. She feels that she will ruin everything by her intervention, so she just keeps quiet. Once she was told that she was a bad speaker and she believed it, sat alone and read novels. Because of this, there were times when she enthusiastically began to tell Prince about something, temporarily forgetting about the barrier and opening up to him. He answered something like: wow, it's like you've been replaced. She interpreted this negatively and fell silent again.

Many people portray her as a hot-tempered person, but I think she wasn't, she used the diary to at least express her thoughts, fears, anger somewhere, while remaining outwardly calm. Most likely, she manipulated softly, slowly but surely, but most likely not consciously: "I suffer so much when you are not here, if only you came more often", "I don't like the bacon from the new supplier lately, maybe you shouldn't order it until we find a new, better one? I'll take care about it, really", "you spend too much time studying, I see how tired you are, you need to come to her classes less often, for your own health."

The hair dyeing incident was one of those times when she lost control of herself and brought the obsessive thought to life.

Vanessa is the personification of the phrase "still waters run deep", but she skillfully suppressed this part of herself until she saw the "betrayal". Sometimes she was told that she was naive, she tried not to pay attention to these words, but when she saw "irrefutable evidence", she thought too much without asking for an outside perspective.

Because of loneliness and introversion, as it seems to me, Vanessa tends to wind herself up, come up with hundreds of possible reasons for any actions, but she tried to push the negative ones into the background. Everything accumulated like a snowball in the depths of her mind and exploded that day. Usually a quiet and silent girl exploded.

I think she was absolutely distraught with loneliness when Hat Kid arrived, but she tried to maintain the illusion of normality: "I want a nice bathroom, a fridge and a modern stove" (I'd like to see the faces of the workers who installed all this), she constantly giggles under her breath and talks to herself. She doesn't care about Prince anymore, she won't trust anyone anymore.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 2

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 

Part 1 | Part 2

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You slam the shutters closed and back away from the window. Already you’ve begun trembling from the cold, and despite the shackle on your ankle, you’re irrationally afraid of falling out the window. 

The chain on the shackle clinks as you move, and you follow it back to see what it’s connected to. Under the straw mattress, you find a great metal hook where the end of the chain is fastened. You pull at it, but there’s no way to get it free. It seems to be built into the hook somehow. 

Changing tactics, you sit down and examine the shackle itself. There’s a small keyhole on the side, and no other way to open it. You pull and jerk, but it doesn’t budge. 

Why would Choso do this? You thought things were going so well. You even fell in love with him. Did he have something like this in mind the whole time? And what does he even plan to do with you?

You run through possibilities in your mind, but nothing makes sense. If he wanted to keep you here for sex, why bother when you slept with him willingly? You make him all the medicines he wants. You spend time with him and even invited him to come visit you. What else could he possibly want from you? 

Just then you notice that your hair has been tied back up into a ponytail. It’s a bit messier than when you do it, but it’s clear that Choso has made an effort. Why would he do something so considerate while doing something as terrible as chaining you up? 

Footsteps echo through the room, and you look toward the door. Someone is coming up the stairs, and unless you’re completely wrong about his brothers being dead, it’s definitely Choso. 

You feel a surge of panic. Whatever he wants from you, it can’t be good if he’s taken you captive. You’re not sure if your heart can handle being hurt by someone you’ve come to love, someone you were so intimate with just before you were knocked out. 

The door opens, and Choso is on the other side, holding a plate of food. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there in the middle of the room.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, relief in his voice. He steps inside and sits the plate on the dresser. “I brought dinner just in case, but I was worried you’d still be asleep. That sleep medicine you made is more potent than I thought. Or maybe I used too much. It’s been two days.”

Two days?! You’d guessed around twelve hours! But this is no time to be shocked into silence. 

“Why have you taken me prisoner?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even and calm. Losing your cool will be no help at all. 

He blinks. “Prisoner? No, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m keeping you safe. After the threat is gone, I’ll take you home.”

“The threat? You mean the wolves?” How could he possibly rid the forest of wolves single handedly? Or is this just a way for him to keep you here indefinitely? 

“Yes, the wolves,” he replies, seemingly oblivious to how ridiculous that sounds. “Well, that particular pack of wolves. I’ll hunt them down and kill them all, so they won’t ever hurt you again.”

You step closer to him. “Choso, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine! The wolves are less active during the day, so just escort me home now while the sun is still up, and-“

“No!” he shouts, making you flinch and step back. His face then softens immediately, as if your reaction pained him. “I’m sorry for yelling, but I can’t let you leave until I know you’ll be safe. I promise I’ll take care of you, so don’t worry!”

“Choso-“

“I’ll cook meals for you every day,” he continues, cutting you off. “You like my cooking, right? I went to the village yesterday and bought you a couple of dresses to wear, and some books to read so you won’t be bored!”

“Please, Choso, listen to me,” you say, approaching him again. “I know you mean well, and you’re trying to look out for me, but this isn’t the way to do it. I need to go home. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

This time he takes a step back. “I’ll take you home as soon as I kill the wolves. It won’t take too long, but I can’t let you go before then. Those wolves are bloodthirsty, and they’re not afraid to attack humans.”

You stare at him for a moment, wondering if you should say the words bubbling up in your mouth. Since he’s taken things this far, you decide to stop dancing around the topic and ask, “Is that what happened to your brothers?”

His face goes blank, his eyes looking eerily empty as he says, “What are you talking about? My brothers are downstairs playing.”

For that brief moment, Choso frightens you to your core. For that one solitary moment, you believe he’s capable of anything. 

You feel your eyes becoming wet. “Choso, I’m more afraid of you than the wolves right now.”

He looks hurt, reeling back as if he’s been slapped. “Me? But I’d never hurt you! I’m doing all this to protect you!”

“But I don’t want this kind of protection,” you say as calmly as possible. “Don’t you care what I want?”

He wears a conflicted expression, which is a good sign. Maybe you can reach him. He backs up toward the door. “Of course I care, but I care more about keeping you safe,” he says as he opens the door and steps out. “Please eat. I’ll come check on you a little later.” Then the door closes. 

You stand there for a while, listening to his footsteps carrying him down the stairs. Once he sounds far enough away, you go over to the dresser and pick up the plate. Your gut reaction is to smash it on the floor, but starving yourself will get you nowhere. It might even end with Choso forcing food down your throat. 

No, the best idea is to appeal to Choso’s care for you. He’s clearly been driven mad by grief over his brothers, and it’s impossible to tell what he’d do when pushed into a corner. 

But the worst part is that, despite what he’s doing, you still feel love for Choso. He seems to sincerely believe he’s protecting you. 

For now, you decide to bide your time and try talking some sense into him. 

Later that evening, Choso returns to the top of the tower. When he opens the door and steps into the room, you gasp at the sight of him. 

His clothes are torn, there are bloody scratches all over him, and he’s carrying a heavy-looking wool sack. 

You quickly get to your feet and hurry over, but the chain prevents you from reaching him. He’s just inside the door, barely out of your reach. You extend one hand toward him. “Choso, what happened?!” No matter what he’s done, you still can’t bear to see him hurt. 

Choso looks at her with an anguished expression when he realizes she’s trying to come to him but can’t, because of the shackle he placed on her ankle. He takes the ten steps needed to be close enough for her to touch him, sighing in relief when her soft hands touch his shoulders. 

“I’m alright,” he tells her, shifting the bag to one arm. “More importantly, I brought you a gift.”

She looks skeptical. Of course she does. He’s well aware that she’s unhappy with this situation. He doesn’t like making her unhappy, but he knows she’ll understand after she’s here for a while with him. Eventually she’ll come to like being kept safe and pampered here. 

He opens the bag and dumps out the contents on the floor in front of her. Two gifts that will surely prove his devotion to her. Two bloody, mangled wolf carcasses. 

She doesn’t scream, but instead makes a strange little cry of alarm, barely above a whisper, as she steps back, one hand closed over her mouth. 

“Don’t you recognize them?” he asks, squatting down to hold one of them up. “These are two of the wolves that attacked you. There’s only four more.”

She looks horrified as her lovely eyes take in the dead wolves, then shift to his face. “You killed them yourself?”

Choso smiles, feeling proud. “Yes, with a hatchet! It was fairly easy to take a couple down once I drove the pack to separate, then I-“

He notices she’s crying, and it makes the words dry up in his mouth. She looks aghast. 

“Please don’t do something like this again!” she cries. “Think about what would happen if you’re killed by the wolves! I’d be trapped here alone, with no food or water!”

Choso’s heart nearly stops when he hears her words. How could he have been so careless? He put her at risk! “I’m sorry!” he says, dropping to his knees beside the wolves. “I didn’t consider that! I’ll bring extra food and water tomorrow, and I’ll be very careful when I kill the rest of the pack!”

She kneels down in front of him. “Don’t kill the rest of them! Please just stop all this. Wolf attacks are rare. I’m sure it won’t happen again. I’ll forgive you if you let me go home when the sun comes up.”

Her words are logical. They make perfect sense to Choso, but he knows logic isn’t always right. He can’t risk her being attacked again. Standing up, he looks down at her. “After I kill the remaining four, I’ll take you home. I promise. And don’t worry, I’ve killed a bigger pack than this one before. I know what I’m doing.”

She lowers her head in defeat, not even looking up when he places the dead wolves in the bag and leaves the room. 

Back downstairs, he strips off the bloody clothes and cleans up in the small washroom beside the kitchen. There’s a similar washroom upstairs for her to use. He cleaned her body the day before, while she was still sleeping, but he was careful to protect her modesty as best he could and not touch her inappropriately. 

After washing his hair and drying off, Choso pulls on loose fitting black pants and sits near the fireplace to warm up. He can’t help remembering how he made love to her in this very spot only two days earlier. When he’d been fully sheathed inside her, wrapped in her arms, he felt at peace for the first time in years. 

It was almost enough to make him forget. 

After a few minutes, he decides to go up and check on her. He misses the time they spent talking happily together, sharing stories about their lives. He hopes they can go back to that someday. These are his thoughts as he climbs the steps of the tower. 

You’re surprised when you hear footsteps on the stairs again. You didn’t expect Choso to come back again so late, but when he opens the door, he’s standing there in only black pants, no shirt, his hair loose around his shoulders and slightly damp. 

It reminds you that you find him very attractive, and you wish you could just turn that part of your brain off. 

“Ah, sorry if I’m bothering you,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “I think it’s time to change your bandages. Is it alright if I help you?”

You already found a drawer full of supplies in the dresser, but you haven’t changed them yet. To be honest, that’s been the last thing on your mind today. 

You’re not quite sure whether you should accept his help, or anything else. You haven’t even looked at the dresses he bought for you, spending the day in your slip. There’s a coal heater in the room, with a vent built into the wall to prevent smoke buildup, so you haven’t been cold unless you open the window. 

He stands there looking like a lost puppy, and you can’t help yourself. “Alright, you can help me,” you say, sitting on the mattress. 

Looking pleased, he hurries over to the drawer and gathers supplies, then sits down beside you. His hands are nearly shaking as he carefully removes the bandages from your hand and arm. As always, his touches are light and gentle, his fingertips soft on your skin. He continues this process with your other wounds, and it feels so nice and relaxing that your guard drops completely. 

When he’s finished, he starts to stand up, but you place one hand on his arm. “What about you?” you ask him, looking at the numerous shallow cuts and scratches on his firm torso. “Let me help you.”

His eyes widen slightly, a faint dusting of pink on his pale face as he settles back onto the floor and nods. With the same care he demonstrated, you clean and wrap his wounds with bandages, your hands lingering on his abdomen. You wonder if he’s aroused right now, considering the way his breaths are coming quicker and his eyes seem to be darker. 

Do you want him to be aroused? 

You’re not certain what you want. And while you’re still in this vague mindset, Choso softly asks, “May I touch you?”

Slightly dazed by his closeness, you say yes, assuming he plans to embrace you when he moves to be behind you. 

Instead, his warm hand slides under the fabric of your slip, between your legs. You gasp when his fingers gently prod your folds open and find your clit, stroking it until you become wet. 

“You liked it when I touched you here, right?” he says into your ear, and your whole body shivers. 

You shouldn’t let this happen. You should tell him to stop. Being intimate with him again will only make him feel like his behavior is okay. But you’ve been so stressed today, so wound up and worried. And Choso looks so beautiful with his hair down, his fingers feel so good, causing currents of electric pleasure to ripple through you. 

You should stop this, but instead you lean back against him, opening your thighs. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, one of your hands moving to his hair and pulling his face close enough to kiss him. You moan into his mouth as he continues rubbing your clit, your body beginning to quiver. 

Breaking the kiss, you look him in the eyes. “Choso… take me,” you plead, peeling off the slip and leaving yourself nude. 

You don’t have to ask twice. With an urgency bordering on desperation, he pushes you forward, onto your hands and knees on the floor. Within seconds, he’s shoving into you, a short whimpering cry escaping his lips as your warm, slick walls close around him. 

He’s less careful this time, less gentle as he thrusts into you from behind, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer. 

One of his hands slides around to continue stroking your clit, making you sob out a moan. His other hand reaches around your face, where his fingers dip into your open mouth. His thrusts get harder, faster, and the chain connected to your ankle clinks as it rattles. 

Oh god, you’re falling into madness with him. 

When you cum with a great shudder, you inadvertently bite down on his fingers, tasting his blood. He doesn’t even try to withdraw them. 

When he cums, fully inside you, he leans over your shaking form and says into your ear, “I love you so much. I’ll keep you safe… forever!”

The words, sounding sweet at first, snap you back to your senses when you realize what he’s actually saying. 

He intends to keep you captive here for the rest of your life. He’ll never let you go. 

The thought is sobering, and you instantly lose the sense of pleasure you’d just felt. In a moment of weakness, you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

When Choso pulls out, he wraps his arms around you, clearly wanting to be close for a while longer. You pull away from his grasp and say, “I need to go clean up.”

He looks at you as you stand up. “Do you need any help?” he asks, seeming so kind. 

“No, I’m fine,” you say, not meeting his eyes. 

You spend longer in the washroom than you need, hoping he’ll be gone back downstairs when you come back out. Unfortunately, he’s still sitting on the floor when you return. He must have noticed your change in attitude, because he looks worried. 

“Are you upset?” 

You finally look him in the eyes. There are lots of things you want to say, but all of them would probably make this situation worse. No, you need to be smart about this. Making him freak out and be on his guard will be no help to you. 

“I’m just tired,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

He gets to his feet and hovers awkwardly for a little while before heading for the door. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll bring your breakfast.”

“Thanks, Choso,” you tell him, pulling on your slip and sitting down on the mattress. 

He gives you an uneasy smile, then leaves the room. You listen to his footsteps, waiting until you can no longer hear them. 

A plan is already forming in your mind. You’ve realized tonight that you have to escape, and soon. The first step is to get rid of the shackle. Choso locks the door each time he leaves, but there’s a chance he might forget at some point. You need to be ready for that possibility. 

Sitting on the mattress, you bring your shackled ankle close and carefully remove the strips of cloth Choso has tied underneath the metal. Then you grit your teeth and begin yanking on the chain, pulling it harshly against your skin. After several painful minutes, you tie the cloth back around your ankle and slide it under the shackle. 

The next morning, Choso brings your breakfast and sits it on the dresser. He walks over to where you’re sitting and says, “How are you feeling today?”

You look up at him, rubbing your leg absently. “I’m okay. It’s just…”

“Hmm? Is something wrong?”

You extend your leg, the chain clinking. “My ankle hurts.”

He squats down and gently begins untying the cloth. When it falls away, a look of horror spreads across his face. Your ankle is wrapped in deep purple bruises. 

“I’m so sorry!” he says, digging around in his pockets and pulling out a small key. “I thought the cloth would be enough to cushion it!”

He quickly unlocks the shackle, then pulls it away from you. With one hand you rub over it, wincing. “I think it happened last night, when we were together,” you tell him. 

His face reddens. “I never realized it. I’ll leave the shackle off for a while. Maybe you don’t even need it.”

You don’t say anything to that, afraid you might say something that makes him suspicious. 

The day wears on, Choso bringing you meals and even applying a salve to your ankle. He seems happy to see you wearing one of the dresses he bought for you. 

He doesn’t know you’re preparing. 

By nightfall, you stop hearing any sounds whatsoever, and you have no doubt he’s gone to hunt the wolves again. This is the time to act!

You start by checking the door, just in case. As expected, it’s locked up tight. But that’s okay. You have a back up plan. 

It takes you several minutes to unfasten all the loops and ties in your hair, which you’d redone after Choso’s attempt at fixing it back. Once all of it is loose, you begin twisting it around into something resembling a rope. Then you drag the heavy dresser over to the window and tie the end of your hair around one of its legs. 

You open the window and look down, trying to judge the distance. You’ve done this many times already, and you’re still not certain you can reach the bottom. Even if you do, you’ll have to make a horrible decision. 

You’ll have to cut your hair. 

It’s the only way to escape, and you have a small blade that Choso left with the medical supplies, for cutting off strips of bandages. 

You have no choice. Choso will keep you here forever. There will always be more wolves in the forest. The longer you stay here, the harder it will be to escape, the more you’ll grow comfortable with being held captive by him. 

Steeling your nerves and your heart, you open the window and climb onto the ledge. Holding tightly to your hair as if it’s a rope, you begin easing yourself down, keeping your feet on the side of the tower. 

The climb down is terrifying. If your feet should slip, or your hands lose their grip on your hair, you could fall the rest of the way. Depending on how the length of your hair compares to the tower, you could smash into the ground or have your neck snapped if your hair suddenly stops your fall from this height. 

Luckily, it’s too dark to see much when you look down, so you can focus all your attention on your descent. 

It takes longer than you expected. At least twice you hear the sound of wolves howling. Is Choso hunting them now? You hope he’s not hurt, but you also hope he doesn’t come back before you’re gone. 

Finally, you reach the end of your hair, leaving yourself only enough slack to move your head around. You look down, and the ground looks close enough that dropping from here wouldn’t hurt at all. It’s now or never. 

You pull the blade from a pocket in your dress and take a deep breath, then you begin cutting through your hair. Tear fill your eyes as you watch the strands split off from each other. Your hair is sacred, it represents your spirit, but those are just ideas you grew up with. Logically, you know it’s just hair. It will grow back. But it’s still emotional for you. 

Once you’ve cut it free of your head, you extend your arms, holding onto the end of the “ rope”, giving yourself a few more inches, and then you drop. 

The ground rises up to meet you, and your legs quiver when the impact shoots from your feet up to your hips. It hurts, but you don’t think you’ve injured anything. You catch your breath, then run around to the other side of the tower, toward the path you’re familiar with that leads back to the village. You try not to think about your hair, about how it’s barely long enough to cover your ears now. 

When you round the tower, you stop dead in your tracks. 

Just a few feet away from you, Choso is walking toward the tower, a dead wolf thrown across his shoulder. 

[cynthiav06]

Annabeth stans and Percabeth shippers are talking about how ooc Annabeth is in WOTTG with her thinking Percy is stupid as if she hasn't constantly made fun of Percy's intelligence since the very beginning. As if she doesn't do it in every book, multiple times. Rick's characterization of Annabeth isn't changing, people are finally just growing up and realizing their fave ship when they were 12 isn't healthy. But instead of actually acknowledging that it's a bad ship they just blame the author.

Warnings: This is going to be a rant; bear with me. People from the "take everything as a personal offense" group stop reading. Will give us both the luxury of a peaceful mind.

It's easier to blame Rick, I think, given his series of shit decisions. The Wrath of a Triple Goddess is a complete abomination, and so is Chalice of the Gods in many ways. But at least it has helped readers understand the glaring flaws of Percabeth as a ship. How Percy's character is butchered to hype up Annabeth.

And I am completely exhausted of trying to get any of them to think rationally and in an unbiased manner. I can't make a willfully blind individual see sense after all.

But yeah, Annabeth has many, and I mean many character flaws throughout the series. The number of times I have made a post on Annabeth's flaws or even why Percabeth is incompatible.... At this point, I believe open-minded and careful readers are going to see and make their own conclusions, and the blind shippers will keep doing their own thing. This , I think, was my most recent post and will probably be one of my last ones on a similar topic. Unless I get newer asks that have some different viewpoints that I can actually explore cause, all has been said so far, I think.

I had a feeling that things would get better as they got older, more mature, you know, an Annabeth character arc of some sort. Maybe exploring the positive and negative nuances of Percabeth or even Percy's suicidal thoughts, non existent self esteem and how Annabeth has been unknowingly feeding into those.

She is one of the more iconic characters to people even outside the fandom. One from a very, very , and exclusive pool of actually strong female characters and the way her character is devolving isn't helping anything.

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

All of Riordan's characters have such high potential, and the amount of plots he could explore is staggering, and yet he still dishes out the same generic plot again and again. He is in it for the money now, has been for a while, and so there's no hope there.

This might be a very hot take, but I think romance ruined the series. Rick kept slapping romantic relationships on every character as if that would suddenly make things better. Give them a relationship rather than explore their trauma. I guess it's the easier of the two.

But seriously, Caleo? Jiper? Solangelo ? (I can see the hate comments already). Whatever he was doing with Reyna, but at least she wasn't completely butchered.

Rick's problem is that he keeps giving more importance to romantic relationships and makes that the entire personality of a character.

He butchered Percy, even Jason at times, Leo bloody Valdez and Nico more prominently.

The way Percy and Nico's very deep and volatile bond and heavily dynamic relationship was butchered and distorted to feed into Solangelo and Percabeth, and I can't possibly understate how highly that's been going on.

Then Luke and Thalia's relationship was completely butchered for no absolute reason. I have no idea why. They were in love or at least had romantic feelings for each other, and Thalia just woke up and wanted to kill him? He literally gave all the angst to Annabeth even though Thalia had known him longer, and they had a more nuanced bond.

Jason's relationship with Camp Jupiter individuals was completely scrapped, his and Reyna's dynamic completely watered down, or even his and Leo's great friendship discarded all for Jiper or whatever else was shoved at him.

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

As opposed to this whole shit show, I loved the relationships in the Magnus Chase series and Kane Chronicles. That was good stuff. Both character relationships and romantic ones even though I am pretty sure he got a lot of diverse representation wrong or so I have read recently.

Then there's the stupid, blind, bigot part of the fandom that just can't help themselves. I mean dumb Percy takes, Annabeth stans ruining Percy's character arcs and overinflating Annabeth's character, which in turn made Rick do the same.Then the boring Jason thing? What the hell was that? It's like everyone missed the point of why Jason is the way he is. I am going to make a post on that soon, but seriously, the shit that's been going on.

Then the shippers. Solangelo stans and Percabeth stans. They have single handedly ruined the ships for me with their distorted ideas of character dynamics. And their blatant and brutal hate against other Percy or Nico ships is just ridiculous and heavily toxic.

It's a fandom, not a monopoly. Everyone can have their own little thing as long as you don't meddle in someone else's own thing. Let everyone enjoy their own thing.

And for all our sakes, at this point, just pick your own version of canon. Choose which books to stop at. Trust me, it's less frustrating that way.

[aureatescars]

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.

[supernova2205]

The Long Game

Final chapter

Summary: A dangerous mission turns chaotic when you and Price are kidnapped by a familiar foe. Separated from the team, survival depends on trust and quick thinking. As the fight unfolds, sacrifices are made, bonds are tested, and decisions lead to life-altering consequences—some that leave shadows no one can escape.

Warnings: some violence and light angst

The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound as chaos erupted. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moved like shadows, their movements precise and deadly. Each corner they turned revealed more of Shepherd’s forces, and each enemy they took down brought them closer to you and Price.

Inside the compound, you sat slumped against the wall, every muscle in your body aching. The cold metal of your bindings bit into your skin, but you refused to let the pain consume you. Price was beside you, battered but unbroken, his steely resolve a lifeline in the suffocating darkness.

“You still with me?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, though every movement sent a jolt of pain through your skull. “Still here.”

Price’s jaw tightened. “We’re getting out of this.”

Before you could respond, the door burst open, and two armed guards entered. They hauled you and Price to your feet, dragging you into a larger room where Shepherd waited.

“Ah, my guests of honor,” Shepherd said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep.”

Price glared at him, his hatred palpable. “What do you want, Shepherd?”

Shepherd smirked, circling the room. “Revenge, for starters. You and your team have been a thorn in my side for far too long. It’s time to cut you out for good.”

You held Shepherd’s gaze, refusing to show fear. “You talk a big game for someone who can’t fight his own battles.”

Shepherd’s smirk twisted into a scowl. Without warning, he struck you across the face, the impact leaving you dazed. Price surged against his restraints, fury burning in his eyes.

“You lay another hand on her, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what, John?” Shepherd interrupted, laughing. “You’re as helpless as she is.”

The room fell silent as Shepherd’s radio crackled to life. “Sir, we’ve got intruders. Three of them. Closing in fast.”

Shepherd’s smile faded, and he turned to his men. “Take them to the holding cells. I’ll deal with this myself.”

As the guards dragged you and Price away, you exchanged a glance. This was your chance—if the team was here, they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

Ghost led the team through the labyrinthine structure, his sharp instincts guiding them closer to their target. The tension was suffocating, every corner they turned bringing the possibility of an ambush.

“Anything on comms?” Gaz whispered.

“Nothing. Heavy jamming,” Soap replied, his voice low.

“We keep moving,” Ghost said, his tone calm but cold. His mind raced with images of you and Price, and the possibility that they might already be too late clawed at the edges of his thoughts.

“Ghost,” Soap muttered, glancing at him. “We’ll find them.”

Ghost didn’t reply, his focus razor-sharp as they advanced deeper into the compound.

The sound of footsteps ahead made them freeze. A group of guards passed by, dragging two figures behind them—figures that were unmistakably you and Price.

“There,” Ghost hissed, his heart pounding.

They struck fast, taking out the guards before they could react. You and Price hit the ground as your captors fell, and Ghost was by your side in an instant. His gloved hands gently turned your face to check for injuries, his eyes narrowing at the fresh bruise on your cheek.

“Can you move?” he asked, his voice quiet but urgent.

“Yeah,” you said, though your legs wobbled as he helped you up.

Price groaned, holding his side as Soap supported him. “Took you long enough.”

“Nice to see you too, Captain,” Soap quipped, though his relief was evident.

“We need to move,” Gaz said. “This place is about to light up.”

The team fought their way through the compound, the air thick with smoke and the deafening roar of gunfire. You stuck close to Price, your instincts screaming to protect him even as your own strength waned.

As they neared the extraction point, a sniper’s shot rang out, aimed squarely at Price. Without thinking, you threw yourself into his path, the bullet striking you instead.

“[Name]!” Price’s voice was raw with panic as he caught you, lowering you to the ground.

You gasped, pain searing through your body as blood pooled beneath you. “Guess I owed you one,” you managed to choke out, your voice faint.

“Stay with me,” Price demanded, his tone trembling. “That’s an order.”

The world blurred around you, his voice the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

Three months passed in a haze. In your coma, you were haunted by fragmented nightmares—memories of the mission mingling with deeper, more personal fears. The weight of your choices, the lives you’d taken, and the pain you’d endured all pressed down on you, suffocating and unrelenting.

When you finally woke, the first thing you saw was Ghost sitting beside your hospital bed. His mask was pushed up just enough to reveal his jawline, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low but tinged with relief.

You nodded weakly, your throat dry. “How long?”

“Three months,” he replied, his eyes scanning your face as if to ensure you were really there.

You glanced around, noting the lack of machines. “Price?”

“He’s fine,” Ghost said. “Everyone made it out. Thanks to you.”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in.

As you recovered, the weight of your experiences became impossible to ignore. The military had been your life, but it had also taken so much from you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you told Ghost one evening, your voice trembling. “I need to leave.”

He didn’t argue, though you could see the tension in his posture. “What will you do?”

You smiled faintly. “Teach, maybe. It’s what I always wanted before… all this.”

“You’d make a good one,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

In the weeks that followed, you grew closer to Ghost in ways that surprised you. His quiet support, his understanding—it became your anchor. When you finally left the military, he was the one who helped you pack your things.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

“I’m sure,” you said. “But… I’ll keep in touch.”

He nodded, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you your bag. “You’d better.”

As you walked away, you felt the weight of the past lifting, replaced by the hope of a future you’d almost forgotten was possible.

5 years later….

Five years had passed since you left the military, and life had settled into a rhythm you never thought you’d have. The soft hum of children’s laughter filled your cozy home as you stood in the living room, arranging balloons and streamers for the party later that evening. Your little boy, only three years old, raced past you with an infectious giggle, his tiny hands clutching a toy truck.

“Slow down, champ,” you called after him, a smile tugging at your lips.

He looked back with a cheeky grin but kept running, his boundless energy filling the room. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted in from the kitchen, and you took a deep breath, savoring the peace you’d worked so hard to build.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made you glance out the window. Moments later, the door opened, and Simon—Ghost—stepped inside, balancing a large cake box in one hand and a few wrapped presents in the other.

“I’ve got the cake,” he announced, setting it down on the counter before walking over to you.

“Perfect timing,” you said, wiping your hands on your jeans.

He leaned in and kissed you, his hands finding your waist. “Everything looks great. Party planner of the year.”

You laughed softly. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Your son ran over, tugging at Simon’s pant leg. “Daddy! Look at my truck!”

Simon crouched down, inspecting the toy with mock seriousness. “That’s a fine piece of machinery. Reckon it’ll win every race.”

The boy beamed, proud of the attention, before dashing off again. Simon stood, watching him with a softness in his eyes that always made your heart ache in the best way.

As the day went on, the house filled with friends and family. Soap, Gaz, and Price arrived together, immediately diving into the snacks and joking around as if no time had passed since your missions together. The 141 boys quickly became the life of the party, with Soap playing an exaggerated game of hide-and-seek with the kids and Gaz sneaking extra cupcakes to your nieces and nephews.

Price, however, seemed quieter than usual. You found him on the back porch later, nursing a glass of whiskey and looking out over the yard where the others played with the children.

“Hey, Captain,” you said, stepping outside and shutting the door behind you.

He turned, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You don’t have to call me that anymore, you know.”

“Force of habit,” you said, settling into the chair beside him.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the distant laughter and chatter from the yard filling the space between you. Finally, Price spoke.

“You’ve built something good here,” he said, his voice low. “A life like this… it suits you.”

You glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the warm glow of the setting sun. “Thanks, John. It wasn’t easy, but… it’s worth it.”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “I’m happy for you. Truly.”

There was something in his tone that made your chest tighten. “You don’t sound happy.”

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotion you couldn’t quite read. There was a sadness in his expression, something fleeting but real. His lips parted as if to say something more, but he seemed to reconsider, swallowing the words before they left his mouth.

“I’ve always wanted this for you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “A life away from all the… violence, the chaos. You deserve peace.”

You nodded, your throat tightening. “I know, John. I know you wanted that too. But it’s different now. I’m not the same person I was back then.” You paused, your voice softening. “And neither are you.”

Price’s gaze softened, but the weight of everything he had been through lingered in his eyes. You could see the unspoken words, the years of shared experience that neither of you could fully escape. The bond that had been forged on battlefields, in darkness, was still there. But life had carried you both in different directions.

“I’ve had my share of peace too,” you said, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “It’s strange… how things change.”

Price didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes returning to the yard where the rest of the team was still laughing and playing with your son. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting everything in a golden light that seemed to make the world feel still, as if it had all stopped for just a moment.

“You ever wonder what could’ve been?” Price asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. “What do you mean?”

His eyes flickered back to you. “Between us,” he said, his words heavy with a meaning that neither of you had ever fully confronted. “If things had gone differently… maybe I could’ve been the one here with you, instead of him.”

You felt the ache of unspoken regrets twist inside you, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, filled with all the things that had never been said. But you also knew that what was done was done. The past was behind you, and the future—whatever it held—was what mattered now.

“You made the choices you had to,” you said softly. “And so did I.”

Price gave a small, rueful smile, but there was no bitterness in it. Just an acceptance that had taken years to reach. He put down his glass and leaned back in his chair, staring out at the horizon.

“I just want you to know… I’m happy for you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve found something good. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart heavy but full. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, each of you lost in your thoughts. Then, after a long pause, Price stood up, giving you one last look. “I’ll leave you to it. I think it’s time for me to make myself scarce.”

You nodded, watching him walk back inside, the door swinging shut behind him. Your heart still ached, but you had come to terms with it. You knew that the path you had chosen was the right one for you, even if it had meant leaving behind the life you once shared with the team.

As you stood there for a moment longer, you heard the laughter of your son and the sounds of the others inside, and you felt a deep sense of peace. Despite everything, despite the pain and the losses, you had built something beautiful. Something worth protecting.

You walked back inside, feeling the warmth of your family surrounding you. Ghost was still playing with your son, his face soft with affection as he helped him build a tower with blocks. Soap and Gaz were deep in conversation, swapping stories with your nieces and nephews, and everyone seemed to be at ease, happy in the moment.

And though your heart still carried the weight of the past, you knew that what you had now was worth every sacrifice. You were finally where you were meant to be.

Authors note: omg guys I love this ending I think this is like the best chapter I’ve written in truly happy with it and I hope you guys are too also does anyone know how to make a master list I’m so bad at using tumblr 😭😭😭

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768160196490117120/need-to-know-if-sammy-ever-finds-out-about-what

lowkey want sammy to go off and kevin and break up with him and make sure he deletes the video

part 4! keep in mind that in the other wonder years fics + the fics before will and samy get together that samy genuinely doesn’t know how she feel and doesn’t really figure it out until her and will go to her senior prom together — just to clear up if there’s any confusion about that!

i also totally made this way too long at 2.3k words OOPS but enjoy!! lowkey also gave kevin a small redemption arc bc it just kind of came out as i was writing lmao

au masterlist | previous part

the things will told samy replayed in her mind on a loop like a broken record. she tossed and turned all night thinking about how kevin literally punched one of her best friends all because will tried standing up for her when kevin's friends started saying shitty things. she had an idea of what was being said because she's heard it a few times before in passing and rumors circulating around the school. usually, those things would just roll off her back, mainly because her brothers taught her to not let that type of thing mess with you too much. 

and that's what samy did. she always thought tyler was a gross person anyway because of how he was always trying to hook up with a new girl each weekend. the thing that was bugging samy the most was kevin and will getting into a fight over her. their relationship had been a bit tense the past month. kevin kept saying things and samy kept trying to ignore him and denying all of it, but now she wasn't so sure anymore after finding out him and will fought about the one thing that's been making her and kevin's relationship so strained. 

"bye guys!" samy exclaimed as she walked the guys out. all of them plus marcie and kevin just finished their semi-bi-weekly friday moving night. it was kevin's first time being invited after him and samy had been talking for awhile. she was excited for him to start bonding with the people she was so close with. 

once everyone was out of sight, samy trailed back into the living room where kevin was. the boy smiled a bit, opening his arm up as samy sat back down next to him. the warmth of the blankets returned after standing in the doorway for so long. 

"so, what did you think?" she asked nervous but excitedly. 

"they were cool," kevin nodded. 

"i think they liked you, too. hopefully we can all hang out again soon, or you can come with me to some of their games," the youngest hughes grinned as she squeezed kevin's arm a bit tighter. 

"yeah, for sure. you know, i had no idea you and will grew up together," the boy hummed, his tone a bit too light to pick up on any envy yet. 

"oh, yeah. we go way back. i've known will since we were babies. he's one of my best friends now," samy grinned and she missed the way kevin's jaw clenched listening to her say that. 

"yeah, you two are really close," this time the envy did slip out through his tone. samy caught wind of it and snapped her gaze in his direction. 

"what? are you jealous or something?" she laughed a bit, tugging on his arm and still trying to find amusement in it. 

"should i be?" his green eyes pierced into her skin and samy slowly understood he was being serious. she dropped his arm. 

"no? we've been best friends our whole lives. i've never even seen him that way," the soccer player couldn't even begin to think of will as something other than a friend and she was confused on where this idea was coming from. 

"you better tell him and everyone else that," kevin muttered. 

"oh, come on, kev. our friends have been teasing us about this since they met us. it's just a joke. we've never even done anything. he's like a brother to me," samy continued laughing in hopes to ease up some of the tension building. although, she did fail to mention how her and will kissed in her bathroom back in april and how something in her hadn't been the same since. 

"i'm just saying, hughes. guys can tell and guys can feel when there's other feelings going on," with that, kevin looked at his phone and stood up. "i gotta get going anyway. mom wants me back home." 

samy didn't have anything else to say. the thoughts in her mind were confusing her along with her and will's kiss from april and then again at the beginning of the school year. those were all just for fun though, right? she made it clear she was joking and will did too. it wasn't even serious. 

"see you later," kevin mumbled before leaving out of the same door everyone else left from ten minutes ago. 

since then, samy and kevin kept getting in little tiffs about what was going on between her and will. something would happen that would set the brunette off and he'd bring it up after the fact. samy would just deny it all and tell him he was overthinking it—because it was true. right? there was nothing going on between her and will. 

there never would be. 

but then there was homecoming. the night samy and kevin went public with their new relationship and the night samy started wondering if things really were changing. 

she kept noticing the way will took every chance he got to look at her. his eyes were quite literally glued to her and it sent a funny, but good feeling through samy's chest. she kind of liked the way he was looking at her. and then when the guys jumped in for a few photos, she felt the tight grip will had on her waist and how close he was to her and she also saw the way kevin looked like he wanted to snap will's head off from where he stood off to the side. 

and that's when samy started wondering if there was something more there and maybe kevin was right. 

but he couldn't be. she didn't like will. he didn't like her. they were friends. nothing more, nothing less. 

ryan mentioned something to her that night after she got back. they didn't really talk about it, but he hinted something and she understood what he was trying to say. still though, samy chose to firmly believe that there was nothing going on between her and will. 

the youngest hughes was at kevin's house the next day. she knocked a good three times on his front door and then crossed her arms waiting for him to come out. there were heavy footsteps before the door swung open. kevin paused in the entryway, surprised to see samy on his porch.

"oh, hey. i didn't know you were coming over," he smiled a bit, but his smile disappeared when she didn't reciprocate it. 

"we need to talk."

kevin glanced around like there were other people around, but when he only saw samy, he slowly shut his door and stepped onto the porch with her. 

"okay," the two sat down on the bench his mom had outside. samy knew kevin probably had an idea about what she was gonna say, so she decided to just rip the bandaid off and stop beating around the bush.

"i know you punched will the other night at the game," she began. 

the boy's eyes narrowed and then he jumped up like he was gonna take another swing, "did he tell you that? i'm gonna fucking—"

samy grabbed his arm to bring him back to reality, "i was gonna find out sooner or later, kevin. you really thought hiding that from me was gonna work?" she sneered. 

"who the fuck told you?" he snapped back. 

"why does it even matter who told me? why the fuck did you punch him? if you didn't want him standing up for me, you should've done it first," the girl snapped right back at him. kevin's face twisted.

"well in case you wanted to know, he did confirm he liked you because he'd fuck you too if he had the chance," the brunette grumbled and hearing that made samy's insides twist but not in a bad way. 

"so what? that gave you the excuse to punch him?" 

"it confirmed what i've known all along and what you've kept denying since we got together," the boy pulled his arm away. 

"you could've seriously hurt him, kevin. i don't care how you feel, you don't fucking punch someone because they aren't making you happy. would you punch me?" the soccer player stood up so they were face to face. 

"he punched me back just so you know. he actually tackled me to the ground if that makes any difference."

"why are you so obsessed with this? why not just break up with me if you think i like him?" they were going in circles at this point. 

"because i wanna keep thinking that i'm wrong and there's nothing between you two. i wanna believe you like me. you keep fucking denying it so i'm choosing to believe you, but every time i'm around you guys i'm told otherwise. why can't you just fucking admit it to yourself, samy? why can't you admit to me that you like him?" now kevin was just pleading for some honesty and as much as samy was supposed to hate him right now, his words stung. 

"because i don't like him! i've never liked him!" she yelled at him. 

"there it is again. you're lying. i know you're lying. i can see it in your eyes. your tell is that you get defensive when you're lying," kevin pointed his finger right in her face which she pushed away. 

"well maybe it's because he's my best friend and has been my best friend since we were kids and i'm just so terrified to lose that! and maybe i just kept making myself belief he didn't like me because then it would save all of us so much hurt in the long run because dating your best friend always goes bad. have you ever liked someone that's so close to you that it just scares you more than anything because you don't wanna do anything that will put you into a position to lose them? i like you, kevin. that was never fake. i think it just..i just tried pushing away other feelings too in the process and it didn't end well," everything all just spilled out and samy dropped back down to the bench while hiding her face in her hands. 

a beat of silence passed between the two before kevin sunk back onto the bench next to her. he hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be the right movie, but ultimately placing his hand on her back. 

"shit, i'm sorry. i-i didn't mean to.." 

"no, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped. i shouldn't have punched will. i shouldn't have done a lot of things," kevin shook his head. "if the feelings were really real, then hurting one another wouldn't be a question. i know it's scary, but i don't think you guys would put one another into a position to lose the other." 

"i don't even really know how i feel, but all i know is that i don't wanna lose will just because of some stupid feelings. i also don't wanna lose you either, but i just don't think we work in a relationship. i think i just need to be by myself before i even think about a serious relationship," she met the boy's gaze. it was sad, but he slowly nodded. 

"i get it, really. friend then?" the boy wondered and samy nodded. she hugged his side. 

"just a few things. don't punch my friends ever again, okay? and can you please delete that video?" 

"yes and yes. i promise i won't. i'm sorry i did," kevin sighed as he pulled his phone out so samy could watch him delete the video.

"i'm not the one who needs to hear that apology," she watched as he found it in his camera roll and pressed delete and then went to recently deleted to permanently delete. 

"yeah, i know. i doubt will would wanna hear me out though," kevin and samy exchanged a glance. 

"if i talk to him, do you promise to apologize to him?" the girl asked and kevin nodded. 

—

kevin caught will a few days later at a community soccer game samy was playing in with her club team. the blonde caught kevin coming towards them, his face twisting a bit but the brunette raised his arms as a surrender.

"i'm not here to punch you again if that's what you're wondering," the brunette mumbled.

"if you're here to start anything you better turn back around right now," ryan cut in because he did not want to deal with another fight. 

"i'm not, i swear. i was hoping will and i could talk?" kevin looked over at the blonde who stared at him for a good five seconds before slowly nodding.

"yeah, sure," will said and the two walked a bit out of earshot. 

"first, i wanna say i'm sorry for punching you. it was uncalled for and i shouldn't have done that, so i'm sorry. second, the video is completely gone, so you don't have to worry about that anymore," kevin explained and apologized. 

"i guess i shouldn't have punched back either," will nodded.

"can we just call it even? samy and i aren't together anymore so you don't have to worry about that anymore," the brunette stared at their shoes. 

"i'm sorry you guys broke up," the hockey player rocked on his heels and kevin just shrugged. 

"it's whatever. we're still friends and it's not weird or anything. we're good though?" kevin held his hand out as a truce. will stared at it before shaking it and the boys patted one another's backs.

"sorry again, will. thanks for talking," the blonde nodded and the two finally parted ways. will went back over to ryan and gabe who were curiously listening in. 

"what was that about? gabe wondered. 

"just..apologizing for real. i guess him and samy really did breakup," will explained and he watched his friends' gazes widen in surprise.

"oh shit. i didn't think she was actually serious," ryan mumbled.

"yeah, i guess. at least we don't have to deal with him anymore," the blonde shrugged a bit.

they were right though. kevin wasn't an issue for the rest of the year which meant samy and will were left to figure out what really was going on between them and how long samy could keep denying the feelings she had anytime her best friend was around.

[kathlare]

under the neon lights

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: As the Las Vegas Grand Prix looms, Amelie supports Lando through the mounting pressure of his season’s defining race. Amid the electric atmosphere of the night race, she becomes his anchor, helping him find calm and confidence despite his self-doubt. Their connection deepens in these intimate moments, showcasing the unshakable bond that fuels their journey together.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

November 23rd, 2024 - Las Vegas, NV

liked by f1lover_24, fanforlandonorris, and others

amelieupdates: Amelie is BACK in the paddock! 👏 After wrapping up the North American leg of her Short n Sweet tour, she’s here to support Lando at the Las Vegas GP 🏎️💨 Spotted at the McLaren garage since yesterday, looking absolutely stunning as always!

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f1lover_24: Amelie really said “it’s Vegas, let’s pretend it’s not freezing” 🥶👗 → racingfanatic_99: @f1lover_24 I’m honestly just trying to figure out how she’s standing in heels in this weather 😅

vibesinvegas: Amelie’s outfit got me more worried about her freezing than him racing 🥶👚

racingtrash: Max about to be world champ for the fourth time, but can we talk about how Lando's been looking at Amelie like she’s the trophy? 🏆 → whynotboth: @racingtrash Ugh, if that’s not the most romantic thing ever 😩🔥

landoismyking_: Lando’s gotta finish P1 today, or I’m gonna lose my mind!! 💀

f1fashionpolice: Girl, are we sure it’s cold? Because Amelie is out here like it’s a summer day in Vegas 😭

fanforlandonorris: Lando better keep Max behind today or we riot 🥴 But also, the way Amelie always shows up for him… too cute 🥺

emilia_and_lando: The moment they walk in together, you know Lando’s ready to show off for her. Let’s pray he gets P1 so they can celebrate together 🍾🥂

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

The neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip blazed against the ink-black sky, casting a surreal glow over the entire paddock. The buzz of the night race was inescapable—the air thick with excitement, the hum of electric engines and music reverberating through the open space. It felt almost like a dream, the city alive with anticipation, each pulse of light on the horizon syncing with the heartbeat of Formula 1.

Amelie stepped out of the car, the cool desert air biting at her skin. She shivered slightly in her outfit—a cropped top, a jean jacket thrown over it, and a skirt that barely reached her knees. High heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she and Stella made their way toward the paddock entrance. The cold night air didn't seem to faze her too much; she'd lived through enough chilly nights in Monaco with Lando, but it was definitely sharper in the desert, and she regretted not bringing something warmer.

—Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my jacket?— Stella teased, eyeing Amelie’s outfit with a raised eyebrow.

—I’m fine,— Amelie replied, flashing her sister-in-law a quick smile. —I just didn’t expect this cold in Vegas.—

Stella rolled her eyes but let the comment slide. —You and your outfits... you’re lucky you’re pretty enough to pull them off.—

Amelie chuckled, her thoughts already on Lando. She had been so excited to be here with him, especially after everything they’d been through together over the last year. The time they’d spent traveling, racing, laughing, and of course, dealing with the media circus surrounding their relationship now that they were officially public. Ever since the Miami Grand Prix, where Lando had secured his first win, things had been different between them. They had gone from being the kind of friends who couldn’t stop teasing each other to full-blown partners. Even though it had been almost a year since they’d started dating, their chemistry hadn’t changed. If anything, it was stronger than ever.

They arrived at the paddock, the rows of trailers and team hubs lined up against the backdrop of the circuit. The atmosphere was buzzing with activity—drivers and team members rushing around, making final adjustments, and last-minute prep for the night ahead. Amelie could feel the weight of the tension in the air, a nervous energy she knew all too well.

Stella had disappeared into the Red Bull garage to catch up with Checo, who was already in the thick of his pre-race routine. Amelie, however, was heading straight for the McLaren Team Hub. She had been to the paddock before, but tonight felt different. She had grown so used to being at the races with Lando, cheering him on, helping him unwind, being his rock—but today was going to be tough. He had finished 6th in qualifying, far from where he needed to be, and Max had secured 5th. The thought of Max becoming World Champion tonight was looming over them both, and Amelie could feel the weight of it.

As she approached the McLaren team’s area, she noticed a slight shift in the atmosphere—something off. Lando wasn’t at the usual pre-race debrief, and the energy in the hub was tense. She saw Adam, Lando’s dad, standing near the door to Lando’s driver room, his expression serious.

—Amelie!— Adam greeted her, walking toward her with a hint of worry in his eyes. —I’m glad you’re here. Can you... can you talk to Lando? He’s not answering the door, and I’m getting really worried.—

Her stomach flipped. Adam never looked like this unless something was seriously wrong. —What’s going on?— she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Adam ran a hand through his hair. —He’s locked himself in, doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I know he’s anxious, but he’s not responding to anyone. I think he just needs you to calm him down. He listens to you.—

Amelie’s heart tightened as she nodded, trying to keep her cool. She had seen Lando anxious before, but this felt different. She could tell from the tone in Adam's voice that something more serious was at play, and her mind raced with worry as she made her way to Lando’s driver room.

—Okay, I’ll try to get through to him, Adam,— she said, her voice firm, though her stomach churned with nerves. She wasn’t just walking into a room to console her boyfriend; she was walking into the room of someone who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, who might be on the verge of losing everything he had worked for.

The closer she got to the door, the more she felt the tension in the air. Lando had always been a person who wore his heart on his sleeve, but his insecurities were often masked by his quick wit and playful demeanor. Today, however, all of that seemed to be gone. All that remained was the man who had put his heart and soul into this season, knowing that everything was riding on tonight’s race.

She knocked gently on the door. —Lan? It’s me.— Her voice was soft but carried a quiet strength, the kind that had always been able to cut through his defenses.

The door clicked open after a brief moment, and Lando’s tired face appeared in the crack, his eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. The sight of him like this made Amelie’s heart ache. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

—Hey, love,— she said, her voice low, her hands instinctively reaching out to smooth the worry lines from his forehead. —You okay?—

Lando gave her a weak smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. —Hey, Ames. Just... tired. Nothing new, right?—

Amelie didn’t buy it. She stepped closer, her arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. The cold from the night air still clung to her skin, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was being there for him, the way she always had.

—You’ve been working so hard, Lan. You’re gonna be fine, you know that, right?— she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

Lando sighed deeply, his body tense in her arms. —I know, but... yesterday was shit, Ames. I should’ve done better in qualifying. Max is right there, and if I can’t finish ahead of him... I don’t know, I just...— His voice faltered, his frustration clear.

Amelie pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. Her heart hurt seeing him like this, so vulnerable and uncertain. But she knew the only thing that could really help him now was to just listen, to let him say what he needed to say.

—You know what you need to do, Lan. Don’t focus on Max, just focus on yourself, on your race. You’ve been incredible all season, and one bad qualifying isn’t going to change that. You’re ready for this, okay? You’re not alone in this. I’m here, I’ll always be here.— She gave him a soft smile, one that she hoped conveyed everything she felt without needing words.

He closed his eyes, letting out another deep breath, his arms tightening around her. —I just... it’s scary, Ames. I’ve worked so hard for this. And if I fail... what if I fail? What if I can’t do it?—

Amelie’s heart broke a little more at the rawness in his voice. She cupped his face gently, tilting it upward so that their eyes met. —You’re not going to fail, Lan. You’re going to give it everything you’ve got, and that’s all anyone can ask for. You’ve already proven how amazing you are, and you’ve come so far. One race isn’t going to define you. You’ve already won, just by getting here.—

Lando’s eyes softened, and for a moment, Amelie saw a flicker of the confident, cheeky guy she knew and loved. But the weight of the situation was still heavy, pressing down on him.

—Thanks, Ames,— he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. —I don’t know what I’d do without you.—

Amelie smiled softly, brushing her thumb over his cheek. —Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Lan. I’m not going anywhere. Now, let’s get you out of this room and into the race. You’ve got this, okay?—

Lando nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and pulling away from her embrace. But Amelie could see the unease still lingering in his eyes, the battle between his nerves and his determination.

—But… before we go— Amelie’s voice dropped a little lower, a playful glint in her eyes as she stepped closer to him, her fingers trailing along the collar of his McLaren jacket. —Let me distract you for a second.—

Lando raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief returning to his face. —Distract me? How exactly?—

Before he could respond, Amelie kissed him, her lips capturing his with a gentle, teasing pressure. Lando’s body seemed to relax under her touch, the tension slowly melting away as he kissed her back, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist.

Amelie deepened the kiss slightly, feeling the heat between them build as her hands wandered up to thread through his messy hair. She could feel the moment shift, the rush of adrenaline and passion flooding in to replace the fear and anxiety that had been holding him back. The kiss was a promise—one of support, of love, and of an unspoken understanding between them.

Lando’s hands slid down to her hips, pulling her closer as he kissed her more urgently, a need for comfort and connection overwhelming him. Amelie responded in kind, her body pressed against his as they lost themselves in the kiss, the noise of the paddock and the world outside fading away.

Finally, they pulled apart, both of them breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Lando’s hands remained on her hips, grounding him.

—You’re good at that, Ames,— he murmured with a grin, his anxiety momentarily forgotten.

—You’re welcome,— Amelie teased back, her lips curling into a smile. —Now let’s go show everyone just how amazing you are, Lan. You’ve got this.—

Lando gave her a small, but genuine smile, the spark in his eyes reigniting. —Yeah... I do, don’t I?—

Amelie smiled softly, her fingers brushing against Lando's as she stood beside him. The quiet moment they shared in the driver room felt like a temporary escape from the chaos of the race, but she knew they both had to face the intense pressure that awaited them in the paddock and the track. It was a reminder of just how much was riding on tonight’s race—not just for Lando, but for their entire team.

Amelie gave him a wink, watching as a renewed sense of determination sparked in his eyes. She gently cupped his face, brushing his hair back out of his eyes as she felt the soft, lingering buzz from their kiss.

—Go kick some ass out there, Lan,— she said, her voice filled with affection. —I’ll be cheering for you, as always. And don’t even think about letting Max get the better of you. You’ve got this in the bag.—

Lando’s smile widened, but his gaze softened, the weight of the race still hovering over them. He gave a small nod, his fingers finding the hem of her jacket, tugging her just a little closer.

—You’re right. I’ve got this,— he murmured, leaning down for one last kiss. It was quick, soft, but the promise of it lingered in the air as he pulled away.

Amelie chuckled lightly, her heart racing with both pride and love for him.

—Good luck, baby,— she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek.

As Lando turned to head toward his car, Amelie watched him with a feeling of deep pride and admiration. He was ready. He always was, even when his nerves tried to get the best of him.

She stayed by the door of his driver room for a moment longer, her arms crossed against the chill. Just as she started to turn to leave, someone from the McLaren team approached with a jacket in hand.

—Lando said to bring this to you,— they said, handing over a warm McLaren team jacket. —He noticed you were cold, and asked me to get it for you.—

Amelie smiled softly, slipping her arms into the jacket. It was warm, and she instantly felt the chill of the desert air ease away. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before heading back toward the garage. Tonight was big, and as much as she wanted to stay close to Lando, she knew he needed space to focus.

She spotted Adam again as she walked back, her heart still racing. He gave her a nod of appreciation, and she gave him a reassuring smile.

—He’s going to be okay,— she said softly, her voice confident now. —He’s got his head in the game. Just needed a little reminder of why he’s here. He’s ready.—

Adam sighed in relief, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. —I hope so. Thanks, Amelie. He’s lucky to have you.—

Amelie just smiled, her gaze flicking back toward the track, where the lights glimmered in the distance. She hoped he knew how proud she was of him, no matter what.

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ameliedayman: Vegas was freezing, but my outfit said desert chic 🥶✨

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landonorris: Desert chic or desert tease? 👀 Frostbite never looked this good, though. 🔥 → f1fanatic_: @landonorris LANDO 😭 not in the public comments. → ameliesnumber1_: @landonorris He’s fighting for the championship, but this man is SIMPING here instead. Iconic behavior.

minniemills: Vegas called; they want their main character back ✨ → ameliedayman: @minniemills You know I had to steal the show!

hayesgrier: This post is giving “I bet it all on black and won” energy

stelladayman: You had me worried in that outfit, but you survived. Power to you, sis 💅 → ameliedayman: @stelladayman Survival of the hottest 😏

fanaccountforever: When the drip is so good, you forget hypothermia exists 😭 → ameliesnumber1_: @fanaccountforever She said “freeze or slay,” and clearly chose slay.

ameliesbiggestfan: The jean jacket is literally doing nothing, but go off, queen 😌✨

jorgepatino_: Amelie, eso no es clima de crop tops, pero respeto el compromiso 🧊 → ameliedayman: @jorgepatino_ El frío no entra si lo ignoras.

hannahmeloche: Next-level I’m-too-hot-to-feel-the-cold vibes 😍

madisonbeer: Crop tops in Vegas winter? She’s fearless, I’ll give her that 👏

f1hater_: Girl thinks she’s the main event, but it’s the race that matters. Sit down 🙄 → ameliefansunite: @f1hater_ And yet, you’re here commenting? 😌

emiliamernes: ¿Frío? ¿Dónde? Solo veo puro fuego. 🔥🔥🔥 → michaelronda: @emiliamernes Confirmo. ✋

fanofamelie_: Girl, how are you not turning into an icicle? I wore a hoodie there, and I still froze. 😭

elysiadayman: You better not get sick after this. I warned you about Vegas weather. 🙄 → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman I’m fine, don’t start, Mom 🙃