#will graham x sister!reader

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁

description: in which lucy bronze's younger sister is trying to hide her relationship with a fellow Barca player

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mapi leon x bronze!reader

part of the 'hidden' universe

part two here

part three here

ona batlle x putellas!reader here

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive - cuteness

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y/n grinned as she heard the front door open, two sets of footsteps bursting through the door, she focused on the Spanish omelettes she was making.

"Ah I love ya." A relieved voice sighed as Lucy wrapped herself around her younger sister, pressing multiple kissed the the smaller girl's cheek as she sniffed the smell of breakfast.

"Morning to you to Luce." y/n laughed as her sister moved to her fridge and grabbed the fresh juice she knew her little sister always made for Friday morning training.

"Morning y/n." Keira chimed, pressing her lips to the smaller girl's cheek as she chided her girlfriend in sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Lucy, feet off my counter, Kei, grab the plates would you love?" y/n asked the two and Lucy pouted as she slid off the counter.

"Why are you always nicer to her?" Lucy asked with a huff.

"Because I like her better." y/n replies, sticking her tongue out at her sister playfully as she plates up their breakfasts.

Lucy gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart and the other over her forehead and Keira chuckles, used to the way the two sisters were.

"Oh shut up." y/n laughed, handing Keira her plate, the strawberry blonde responding with a kiss to y/n's cheek in thanks.

"How will I go on?" Lucy asks aloud and y/n chuckled as she held out Lucy's plate.

"This might help?" y/n questioned and Lucy grinned widely as she grabbed it.

"Perfect, thanks Junior." Lucy smiles, kissing her sister's forehead and sitting next to her girlfriend on the table, y/n sitting down last and smiling when Lucy poured her a juice.

The three ate in small talk and silence, comfortable jokes being shared occasionally with laughs of innocence as the three began to was up.

"I don't know why you live next door instead of with me and Kei though." Lucy huffs as the group pull their shoes on for training. "We give you a lift everyday, you cook for us so often, just save your money and move in with us." Lucy adds.

"Lucy, I'm not a child anymore, I like my own space." y/n tells her sister as she slides into the back seat, Keira in the passenger seat.

"You are my baby sister." Lucy claps back.

"I'm 22!" y/n shouts.

"Exactly, a little baby!" Lucy adds as they pull up outside Ona's house, the player sliding into the back seat and kissing y/n's cheek in greeting, the two best friends instantly sinking into a Spanish chat as Keira and Lucy spoke quietly.

Recently, Lucy and Keira had been insistent on picking Ona up, letting her crash with y/n all the time, not being confused when they saw the girl in the morning.

It confused y/n, usually, if someone was a bit too close to her Lucy would go full overdrive and protective sister, ever since y/n's first girlfriend broke her heart at age 20, Lucy had never quite forgiven herself for her lack of care.

Truth was, Lucy and Keira were sure Ona and y/n were together, and considering they were so sweet, Lucy wasn't overly upset at it, though she was still planning to give Ona the shovel speech.

If only Lucy realised how wrong she was.

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y/n just posted on her story

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"Come on, pleaseeeee." Ona begged, hands gripping y/n's as the Englishwoman tried to take her shirt off.

"Fine!" y/n finally called, throwing her hands in the air. Ona grinned and launched at her, thin arms wrapping around y/n's neck as she cheered in thanks.

y/n laughed, spinning the girl around as the two best friends separated and y/n quickly whipped her training shirt over her head. Her hands pulling her hair through her top.

y/n looked over, her eyes meeting slightly dark ones as the blonde tilted her head slightly. y/n gulped looking away from the defender, knowing well what that look was.

y/n stepped out into the pitch sighing in relief at the warmth that spread through her body at the light of the sun. She loved playing in Barcelona for the sun.

"Sun-cream!" Lucy's call ran out, her hands suddenly rubbing the cream into y/n's open skin, Ona laughing as y/n called out in shock of it's cold.

"It's cold!" y/n whines at Lucy who grins.

"It's safe." She denies, rubbing a last bit over her sister's cheeks, Ona still giggling as y/n huffs and squeezes some on her own hands, rubbing it over Lucy's face.

Once the Bronze siblings had stopped playing, the group was called over ready to train, as usual the groups split into pairs, y/n and Ona linking arms so they couldn't be separated.

Alexia sent them a tired sigh, but nodded her head, letting them be together for the strength training section before their mini game before lunch.

Ona and y/n bounced well off another as usual, their passes perfect and tackles easy as they worked hard to prove that they still deserved their starting places.

Eventually they sunk into a game and y/n found herself being marked by a familiar blonde who followed her every movement easily. As Caroline prepared to launch a corner in, the defender's hands placed themselves on y/n's hips.

"Amor." The voice purred quietly, squeezing the flesh on them as y/n pushed her body back against the slightly taller woman. There is a feeling of a grin into y/n's shoulder and she huffs.

Caroline raises her hand up and steps back, y/n pushes against her lover once more before running at the ball coming towards the group. y/n jumps, her head pushing it past Cata and into the goal.

"OOOOOOOH!" Lucy screams for her sister as the Bronze sister's jump in mock excitement, laughing at each other as they do so. The group around them laughing as they were used to them.

"Lo siento." y/n winked at Mapi, the blonde chuckling back as she pretended to try and grab her. y/n shrieked and jumped away, training being called to an end which meant Mapi continued to chase her.

y/n shrieked again, jumping toward Aitana who yelled and shoved her away, knowing how stubborn Mapi could be when she was in the mood to chase.

"Traitor!" y/n called out as Aitana blew her a kiss. Mapi was gaining on y/n, and the Englishwoman shrieked again, jumping at her sister's back.

Lucy caught her easily, turning to face Mapi with a steely glare, the blonde defender huffed and slunk back, glaring at y/n once more before Lucy hisses.

y/n grins when Mapi walks away and kisses her sister's cheek in thanks. Lucy chuckles and lets her sister off her back as the group go to lunch.

Ona links her arms with y/n, the two beginning to talk loudly as they grab their lunch and sit down. Alexia and Mapi move over as well, the latter sitting next to y/n as the two join in on the conversation easily.

y/n had always been good at languages, Spanish was her fifth language now, English, French, German, Portuguese and Spanish, her sister's was also good with them, but hadn't taken to Spanish quite like y/n had.

Mapi's thigh pushed against her own as Keira and Lucy also migrated over, y/n look over to the defender who just continued to talk with Ona, ignoring the way their skin pressed against each other.

y/n smiled at her sister who sat down, not noticing the way Keira's eyes ran down to where y/n and Mapi's legs were pressed tightly against each other.

Keira didn't think too much of it, knowing Spanish people were overly touchy and loving with their friends, but she did think about the look she saw the two share as they talked quietly.

After lunch the group moved to the gym, Mapi and y/n pairing up for strength training as they began to stretch before their work out. y/n hissed at a knot in her shoulder.

"You okay?" Mapi asked y/n, the girl nodding as she stood up.

"Yeah just my shoulder's tight." y/n promised, Mapi sighing as she walked behind her, thumbs digging into the shoulder as she began to put tight pressurised circles into the joint.

y/n groaned in relief, head falling back against Mapi's shoulder. The woman chuckled and continued her actions loosening the shoulder joint with her fingers.

"Tus dedos son magicos amor." y/n sighed to Mapi.

your fingers are magic love

"Las dos sabemos que ya sabías eso." Mapi said quietly into y/n's ear, the Englishwoman rewarding her with a sharp elbow to the gut.

we both know you already knew that.

The two then moved to train and with shared smiles and giggly jokes nothing to anyone seemed out of place, other than Keira who watched with furrowed brows.

Eventually training was called to an end for the day and the group all sighed in relief and trudged slowly into the changing rooms to shower.

Lucy and y/n stayed close chatting away as they changed and y/n opened her locker, noticing a piece of paper laying in the locker, the familiar writing looking at her.

mine @ 7pm?

y/n smiled softly, shoving the note in her bag so her sister didn't see as she shut her locker and turned, noticing Lucy was too busy talking to Patri to notice her.

y/n looked across the room and her eyes met Mapi's, y/n nodding softy, trying to bite back the smile she wanted to wear. The woman smiles softly at the ground before y/n turns back to face Ona.

"Eres obvio, los dos." Ona scoffs in a whisper.

you are obvious, both of you.

y/n shushes her, grateful Lucy was still distracted. Ona was the only one to know mainly because y/n used the excuse she was staying at Ona's too many times when she was actually at Mapi's.

"Come on kiddo." Lucy says, wrapping an arm around her sister as Keira grabs their car keys.

"I'm 22." y/n reminds and Lucy scoffs.

"I don't care." She chimes as she gestures for Ona to follow, the Spaniard looping her arm around y/n's and pulling her quickly toward the car.

"You can drop us off at mine Lucy. y/n is staying with me tonight." Ona says and Lucy nods.

"Sure, you need any clothes kiddo?" Lucy asks her sister who shakes her head.

"Na, Ma- Ona has some of mine." y/n says, Ona choking on her drink at the slip up of names. y/n sends her a glare that begs her to be calm.

"Okay sure!" Lucy hums, y/n sighs thinking she'd escaped but as she turns to get in the car her eyes meet Keira's, she as watching her with a raised eyebrow and y/n wants to swear.

Keira was always to investigative for her own good, she knew y/n too well and could notice the tiniest slip ups she did and once again Keira had caught her before she caught herself.

Ignoring Keira y/n slipped into the back of the car and started talking with Ona about anything they could think about to try and dull Keira's burning eyes.

Eventually they pulled up outside Ona's apartment and y/n leaned forward quickly and pecked her sister's cheek in thanks as Ona got out and grabbed their kit bags.

"Love you both." y/n says.

"Be on time tomorrow!" Lucy warns and y/n nods as she and Ona quickly rush into her apartment complex and quickly inside her apartment.

"Shit, did you see?" y/n asks Ona as the girl watches Lucy's car pull away.

"Keira notice your trip up?" Ona asks.

"Slip up. But yes." y/n nods as she flops onto Ona's sofa cursing softly under her breath.

"You will have to tell Lucy eventually." Ona sighs as she sits opposite her best friend. "I mean, 9 months is long enough, no?" Ona asks.

"Ona, Lucy is insanely protective, she always has been, and usually it is fine, but I don't want to disrupt the team because Lucy gets mad at Mapi and I." y/n sighs.

"Okay." Ona says simply.

"And 9 months isn't as bad as an entire year." y/n adds pointedly and Ona sighs, face planting her head in her hands.

"Dios mío, lo sé." Ona groans.

my god, I know

Ona also had a secret. She for the past year had been dating Alexia's youngest sister, Alba being the middle child. Alexia's younger sister had developed the nickname of baby Putellas and most of the team called her baby.

Strangely enough, the girl was a well known actress and at 22 had an oscar, golden globe and 2 BAFTA's under her very developed belt, y/n always joked with Ona that she guessed the Putellas sisters were meant to be stars.

However, Ona and her had been dating for the past year, having met while Ona was at Manchester Utd, while the actress was filming in Manchester for several months.

Their relationship blossomed and as soon as Ona got her call up for the national team, the first thing the best friends did was discuss how they would hide the relationship.

Now a year into her relationship, Ona was really regretting hiding it, and she knew her lover did to. The entire team knew her well and she was close with them all, however the first time they met her Alexia had given a warning.

"Ella está fuera de los límites. ¡Ella es mi hermanita!"

She is off limits. She is my baby sister!

If only she knew then that Ona was already with her. But she didn't and she still didn't and now Ona feared what would happen once she did know.

"If Alexia ever found out, well, we all know how protective she is of both her and Alba." Ona sighs.

"We're both fucked." y/n sighs.

"Completely fucked." Ona agrees and both girls groan before flinging themselves opposite ways onto the couch.

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onabattle just posted on her story x2

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y/n just posted on her story times x2

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y/n let herself into Mapi's apartment with her key, the clock just hitting seven as she did so. After she and Ona had talked, they both then took a shower and y/n changed into her spare clothes before pecking Ona on the cheek.

Ona promised to pick her up the next day, so Lucy didn't suspect anything and y/n then made her way through Barcelona and toward Mapi's, which she had just gotten into.

"Baby, I'm in." y/n called, the sound of feet padding across the floor making y/n smiled as the familiar black fur of Bagheera wrapped around her ankles. "Hi little one." y/n grinned.

The girl leant down and stroked the cat softly, Bagheera purring in response to the affection. y/n chuckled before she realised Mapi had yet to answer her.

"Amor?" y/n called out, wandering further into the kitchen and living where she dropped her keys to the floor. "Shit." y/n swore.

Mapi was stood, eyes wide and hand on her forehead, looking like a kid who had their hands caught in the cookie jar, her phone was in the kitchen and she looked apologetically toward y/n.

However, y/n wasn't focussed on her girlfriend in that moment, she was more focused, on her captain sat on the sofa, looking between the two with eyes just as wide.

"What? You two?" Alexia stuttered out, her English broken and Mapi and y/n looked toward each other for a moment before both rushing out the same exact sentence in their native tongues.

"You can't tell Lucy."

"No puedes decirle a Lucía."

Alexia paused for a moment, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she tried to think about the situation for a moment.

"How long has this been... happening?" Alexia asks, trying hard to keep her voice as calm as possible.

Mapi and y/n looked over at one another, fear deep in their hearts at the fact they had done so well at keeping it quiet, at hiding, that the fact their captain knew was heart-stopping.

"9 months." y/n begins, fiddling with her fingers.

"Ay, dios mío!" Alexia breathes.

oh my god.

"And Lucia? Has not been known?" Alexia continues asking, her voice now an eerily calm tone.

"No." Mapi denies and the answer is all it takes for Alexia's eyes to harden.

"Por qué?" She asks, though it sounds more like a demand as she jumps to her feet.

why?

"Because she's insanely protective Ale!" y/n defends. "Do you remember what happened that night we went out and that girl was eyeing me up?" She asks her captain.

"I thought she would become flames with the way Lucia was glaring." Alexia muses and y/n nods.

"It gets so much worse if I'm actually interested." y/n warns. "Look, we didn't mean to hide it for so long, but it just was so nice just us so we did!" y/n defends.

"Lucia will be so upset once she knows." Alexia states. "I cannot keep this from her for long." She adds and y/n groans.

"Alexia please." She begs her friend, but Alexia shakes her head. "If Lucy finds out this is gonna fuck the entire team Alexia, she won't just kill me, but Mapi and Ona!" y/n tried.

"Ona knows?!" Alexia asks and y/n sighs and Alexia rolls her eyes. "Of course Ona knows." She adds.

"Ale, por favor, just give us some time to figure out this." Mapi says to Alexia who sighs running a hand over her face.

y/n could see Alexia's thoughts running wild, the cogs in her mind turning as she tried to figure out what was the best option to do and go with.

y/n felt as if her chest had caved in, as if the world had suddenly been sucked of all its air, because she could no longer breathe, she could only worry.

"One week!" Alexia finally says. "One week and then I tell Lucia." She repeats before she moves to the door.

y/n tucked her head to her chest, trying very hard to stop the world from spinning and her lungs from starving themselves of air. Alexia says something to Mapi before she is out the door, shutting it quietly.

"Mi bebe?" Mapi says softly, tilting y/n's head up to see her tear-filled eyes and small rapid breaths. "Breathe, come on breathe." Mapi says quietly, pulling y/n to the sofa and onto her lap.

y/n falls forward, burying her head into Mapi's chest, moving her head until she can find the defender's heartbeat echoing in her ear, the pace of it calming her.

After several moments of y/n listening to Mapi's heart and the defender's hands moving up and down her back calmingly, y/n sniffles and sits up.

"We've really messed up here Maps." y/n says quietly and the woman sighs, leaning forward and capturing y/n's lips with her own, their breaths swapping as they sunk into each other.

"It was going to happen, princesa." Mapi sighs. "I will brave the world, I will brave the media, I will even brave Lucia Bronze for you, mi amor." Mapi promises.

y/n giggles despite herself, letting her hand come up to meet Mapi's jawline so she can rub her thumb across the defender's cheek, Mapi leaning into the loving hold.

"She's going to be terrible. Awful." y/n warns Mapi. "To me and to you." She adds.

"I know how much you love her, how close you are. I know how much this is going to hurt." Mapi promises her girlfriend who sighs and sinks forward.

"I love her, but I've never felt like this before." y/n admits and Mapi smiles into her hair.

"I have never felt like this either mi amor." Mapi promises.

"We'll do it together, won't we?" y/n asks her.

"Together, in two days." Mapi nods and y/n smiles softly, pressing her lips against Mapi's once more.

"In two days, we'll tell her." y/n agrees.

In two days. They did not.

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Today was supposed to be the day that Mapi and y/n told Lucy, they had promised themselves it. But as training neared to an end, both Mapi and y/n knew they weren't going to do it.

y/n had felt almost faded all day, as if she was in a fog as she tried to figure out what to do. Alexia had hardly spoken to her, Ona had noticed something was wrong and once she'd been told she was just as worried.

After showering, y/n followed Ona out, Mapi following close behind, Lucy and Keira had drove on their own today, y/n and Mapi getting there together as well as Ona on her own, though Keira and Lucy thought y/n had drove in with the latter.

y/n thought Keira had dropped her curiosity, so she didn't bother to look behind her as she hugged Ona goodbye and Mapi took her hand leading y/n to her car.

Keira's eyes widened as she watched y/n drive off with Mapi, Ona in the other way in her own car. She gulped and turned to see her girlfriend walking out, talking to Patri.

"You ready to go babe?" Lucy asked Keira who nodded, slipping on a fake smile.

"Yeah, y/n and Ona have already gone." Keira nods and Lucy chuckles rolling her eyes.

Barely an hour later, y/n and Mapi were cuddled together on the sofa, a show on in the background as their lips continuously collided and tongues rolled together.

y/n groaned into Mapi's mouth, her thighs tightening on either side of the defender's hips as she tried not to grind. The fog in her head had lessened, the anxiety.

Mapi had a way of doing that, she could calm the worst nerves in her, the scariest nightmares with something as simple as a smile, y/n loved her, she really loved her.

Mapi's finger gripped tighter, pulling y/n closer which caused a moan to slip into Mapi's mouth from y/n's throat. Mapi grinned against her lips, kissing down y/n's neck.

y/n groaned in relief as Mapi put pressure on her neck, sucking a dark mark into the space just below the collar of her top. Using her teeth to run over it.

"Mapi." y/n whined, causing a grin to rise onto the blonde's face.

"What bebita?" Mapi asks, pressing a kiss to the column of y/n's throat.

The girl groans again, grinding against her girlfriend who just grins, watching as y/n gets little friction from her position on Mapi's lap, the defender too strong for her to move.

"If you're a good girl, and eat your dinner once it comes." Mapi begins. "I'll have you for desert. How does that sound?" She asks y/n.

y/n nods, pushing her head down to press her lips against Mapi's, letting out a needy whine as Mapi's teeth dig into her bottom lip.

"Mi buena niña"

My good girl.

Mapi's raspy compliment made y/n's cheeks flare, another breathy moan coming from her as Mapi pressed a final still kiss harshly to her lips.

Mapi pulled away, her lips plump and red from the strength and need the two had kissed with. Mapi presseed a softer kiss into y/n's lips, humming happily as they pull away.

y/n smiles softly, tucking a strand of Mapi's hair behind her ear as she went to speak, however her phone began to ring and she groaned leaning over to grab it, seeing the fact it was Keira.

"Hey Keira." y/n smiles, carefully getting off Mapi who pouts as her girlfriend stands, but understands Keira would find it weird if y/n didn't pick up.

"Hey little one, how are you?" Keira asks and y/n furrows her brows slightly.

"I'm good, what about you?" y/n asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Keira promises. "I wanted to talk about something with you." She begins. "Where are you?" She asks and y/n panics.

"I'm uh, at Ona's right now Kei." y/n says, getting ready to say she was busy right now.

"Really?" Keira asks.

"Yeah." y/n nods, hearing a knock at the door and realising her and Mapi's food they had ordered had arrived. "Why?" She asks as she unlocks the door.

"Because..." Keira begins, y/n opening the door. "I think you're lying to me." Keira finishes, her eyes staring into y/n's as she holds up the bag of food.

y/n's phone drops to the floor, her eyes widening in shock as it hits the floor, luckily not breaking but making a loud thump which scares Bagheera from her sleep.

"Amor? You okay?" Mapi calls, turning the corner only to pause like y/n had.

"I think you should come in Keira." y/n says, pulling Keira into the apartment and slamming the door.

Keira places the food down on the side, watching as y/n and Mapi send each other fearful looks and Keira sighs, realising what they were worried about.

"Luce thinks I'm with Tana right now." Keira promises them and they let out a breath of relief.

"Good because this isn't what it looks like." y/n begins and Keira raises an eyebrow. "Okay, it is exactly what it looks like." She admits.

"It looks like, you've been secretly dating Mapi and Ona's been covering for you." Keira says and Mapi groans.

"Bien, definitivamente es exactamente lo que parece." Mapi huffs.

Okay, it is definitely exactly what it looks like.

Keira looks at y/n, eyes not harsh, but stern as she demands y/n to translate Mapi's sentence with nothing but a look.

"Basically, you're dead on." y/n tells Keira who sighs and runs a hand over her face.

"Lucy's going to be so..." Keira begins.

"Angry at first, then protective and then upset." y/n says and Keira nods as y/n blinks tears away, biting at her lip.

"Let's go sit down amor, yes?" Mapi asks y/n who sighs and nods, grabbing their food.

Keira follows, watching as y/n and Mapi sit down, Bagheera curling next to y/n's hip as the two sink into each other and open up their noodle boxes, beginning to eat.

Keira watches, finding the small moment of domesticity sweet as she watched how easily the two fit together when doing so.

"So, how long?" Keira asks as y/n continues to eat.

"9 months." She admits and Keira closes her eyes for a moment and sighs.

"And all this time, we thought you were dating Ona?" Keira asks and Mapi's head snaps up.

"What? Why?" Mapi asks, but y/n holds her hand out to Mapi, knowing how possessive the dirty blonde often was.

"She's just my best friend Kei." y/n promises the woman who sighs. "Look, we were going to tell Lucy this week anyway." y/n adds to Keira who furrows her brows.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because Alexia found out, and said if we don't she will." Mapi explains and Keira groans again.

"This just keeps getting worse." She huffs.

"Oh we know!" y/n scoffs. "Look, Kei, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But we know how Lucy gets. And I just, wanted to keep this." y/n sighs and Keira looks at her sadly.

"You love her Mapi?" Keira asks the defender who nods without hesitation.

"Si, I love her with all I am." Mapi promises Keira who nods.

"And munchkin?" Keira asks y/n.

"Yeah Keira, I really do love her." y/n sighs, and Keira nods.

"Okay, well, we need to figure out how to tell Lucy then. Because this is going to be hard."

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END OF PART ONE

what do you think ??

-

queenie x

[astonmartinii]

forever and a day | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem long distance reader

nothing can separate them, except maybe 9,000 miles and a couple of oceans.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: finally back in the homeland and reunited with my girl

view all comments

user1: oscary/n nation we are so back

user2: australia always does us so well

yourusername: can you convince mclaren that they should keep paying for our dates

oscarpiastri: i think we were technically working

yourusername: were we? it never feels like work being with you

oscarpiastri: you didn't notice all of the people around us and filming us?

yourusername: i only have eyes for you osc, we know this

oscarpiastri: hehehhehehehee

yourusername: also i have to completely commit you to memory before you fuck off for another couple of months

oscarpiastri: you could always just come with me

yourusername: let me get my degree first, one of us has to be educated osc

oscarpiastri: i have my a-levels? lando doesn't even have gcses

landonorris: why am i catching a stray?

yourusername: because my boyf is smart

landonorris: i've got street smarts 😩

oscarpiastri: you've been catfished like five times already and nearly had your bank details stole?

landonorris: well ... i like to see the best in people?

user3: thank you mclaren for giving us the oscar and y/n content

user4: and the proof that love still exists

user5: terminally lonely girls block mclaren, oscar and y/n.- it's for your mental health

user6: or if you have commitment issues this is some good exposure therapy

logansargeant: oh who did you force to be your photographer this time?

yourusername: you never learnt reading comprehension in school?

logansargeant: i can read i just choose not to read the soppy shit you and oscar say to each other

oscarpiastri: leave us alone

yourusername: you have a problem with us no matter what 🤨

logansargeant: do NOT make me the bad guy for complaining about hearing your guys' sexy time

oscarpiastri: we spend A LOT of time away from each other

yourusername: and by the sounds of it, you could learn a lot

logansargeant: you know what WHATEVER

user7: they terrorise logan so much from opposite sides of the world, pray for him when she can travel with oscar

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 83,409 others

yourusername: i love any piece of you osc but the separation anxiety is kicking my ass

view all comments

user9: oscar gave y/n a plush of himself

user10: no cause he's literally such a black cat

yourusername: he blushes just like that as well

user11: oh really?

user12: want to share with the class

yourusername: that's for my eyes only

oscarpiastri: i'm glad he got to you safely

yourusername: i just about tackled the postman 😔

oscarpiastri: poor graham, we should get him a better christmas gift this year

yourusername: yeah sorry graham but you sprayed the kitty with your cologne and i can't be held responsible for my feral behaviour

user13: they get their postman christmas gifts?

user14: they have the same postman?

user15: yes, y/n lives with his family

user16: really?

yourusername: they can't get rid of me

oscarpiastri: they also love her as much as i do (literally, i have to fight my sisters to spend time with y/n)

landonorris: so this is why we were waiting so long for you at the airport

oscarpiastri: well, yes. it's very important i get y/n a souvenir

landonorris: i could've slept for like an hour longer?

yourusername: just because you don't understand true romance lando 🤨

landonorris: i know romance!

yourusername: maccies in a hotel room is not romance

landonorris: you guys are just freaks about each other that's not my fault

user17: y/n hanging out with oscar's sisters is so precious

user18: if they aren't married soon i will no longer believe in love

user19: they're 23?

user20: tbf i forget that because they've been together since they were like 15

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 351,904 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

logansargeant: oscar forced me to post this so y/n could 'remember how hot he is while he's away at war'

view all comments

user21: oh wow... thank you logan!

user22: this is not exactly what i was expecting when i opened instagram but alas i'm not complaining

yourusername: WOOF WOOF WOOF

oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭

logansargeant: someone please remind me why i'm friends with you two

yourusername: because we're your only friends?

yourusername: wait sorry that was mean

yourusername: i just get protective

logansargeant: you're telling me 🤨

oscarpiastri: i'm swooning 🥰🩷

logansargeant: i give up

alexalbon: why am i a part of this oscar thirst trap? why are you posting a thirst trap of oscar?

yourusername: HE'S A GOOD FRIEND

alexalbon: i didn't consent to be part of your weird long distance lust

yourusername: oh girl ain't no one looking at you when oscar is there

alexalbon: you know what you're mean :( i want you to stay in australia

yourusername: i promise i'm a lot nicer when i'm with osc, the distance makes me cranky

alexalbon: i see, remind me to never take oscar out in a race

logansargeant: i think that's wise - i heard her yelling down the phone about carlos

yourusername: i had to block him to stop myself

user23: i am honestly so confused

user24: i think we just let them do it, we'll never understand

landonorris: do NOT ask me to do this @oscarpiastri

yourusername: booooooo you're such a debbie downer

oscarpiastri: he's just s fuckboy he doesn't understand

landonorris: i don't think i'll ever understand you two

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 119,056 others

yourusername: one degree hotter xx

view all comments

user26: fucking finally now we can get y/n in the paddock every weekend

liked by oscarpiastri

user27: mclaren social media team seen celebrating just as much

oscarpiastri: and i didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter

yourusername: maybe a piastri jersey?

oscarpiastri: and a ring?

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername: you know i'll never say no to that

yourusername: do nOT propose through an instagram comment oscar - nicole

oscarpiastri: noted 😔

yourusername: but name the time and the place and i'll be there baby

user28: so we could defo get a y/noscar proposal this season

user29: i would be so insufferable it's unbelievable

user30: the way i just know it was killing oscar not being able to go

user31: did you guys see the kicked dog eyes in the paddock yesterday 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: they had to force me on the plane

landonorris: no they legit were about to call mick or pato

user32: did y/n convince you to not run away to australia?

oscarpiastri: maybe ....

charles_leclerc: ummmmm who is this oscar? why hasn't your father been introduced?

yourusername: HI

oscarpiastri: y/n is the love of my life and you SHOULD be able to meet her next race weekend

yourusername: so have i also got another father-in-law?

charles_leclerc: you seem to terrorise the other drivers a lot so - yeah!

yourusername: at your service (unless it's you hitting oscar, then there's no MERCY)

charles_leclerc: okay you are kinda scary wtf

oscarpiastri

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,203,677 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: unbelievably proud of you and everything you've done darling. i'm so sorry i couldn't be there to celebrate with you, but i'll make it up to you before you know it xx

view all comments

user33: oh to be loved like this

user34: they make me feel lonely like the world apart i can only imagine how insane it'll be when they're back together 24/7

yourusername: i love you so so so much osc. you've done more than you could know by supporting me through my education. we have the rest of our lives to be together, so don't beat yourself about it now

oscarpiastri: but i'm so proud of you and just wanted to be there to celebrate you :(

yourusername: osc i can feel you pouting through the screen baby

landonorris: he really is and it's kinda annoyingly cute

yourusername: of course it's cute it's oscar 🙄

landonorris: right so i'll take back my congratulations then

yourusername: FINE BY ME

user35: obsessed with how y/n and lando already have this weird sibling bond

user36: it's the weird relationship that you kind of love between your gf and friend

user37: it's all cute until they actually fight

yourusername: if he makes any wrong step against oscar i'll crush that loser

landonorris: ahhaaha funny joke

yourusername: you're a 5'5 twig, i could snap you in half

user38: i need them to recreate the last photo when oscar wins his first race

user39: i think pinterest would explode

yourusername: no but no joke, i love you so much osc and i can't wait to start the new chapter of our life

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

oscarpiastri: sorry to my sisters but they're losing their live in stylist because you're never ever leaving me ever again

oscarpiastri: that makes me sound like a possessive asshole but i just have attachment issues

yourusername: no these years since you started in f3 have been actual hell without you and i never want to leave your side again

yourusername: i just love watching you do what you love

oscarpiastri: i'll always love you more

user40: who's chopping onions wtf

user41: i'm invoicing them for my therapy

mclarenf1

liked by fredvesti, arthurleclerc and 1,256,046 others

tagged: yourusername

mclarenf1: don't tell oscar but we've got a surprise guest for him 🤫

view all comments

user45: take me out back and shoot me please and thank you

user46: so real of you

landonorris: is this why his phone is currently hidden in my drivers room?

mclarenf1: maybe ...

landonorris: if he fights me for it that's on you guys

mclarenf1: wait admin has just realised you definitely shouldn't be on your phone

landonorris: LOL

user47: mclaren you better not fuck this race for oscar because i need my big rom com ending kiss in parc ferme

user48: omg romance writers do i have a plot for you

user49: the way this would seem so unrealistic if i read it in a book but these fools really have been together for like eight years and are unbelievably in love

yourusername: heheheheh thanks for flying me out on such late notice xx

mclarenf1: no worries queen

yourusername: you guys better be on top form, you can't hide from me in the garage

mclarenf1: hahahaha 😅😅😅

user50: is y/n the reincarnation of nicole scherzinger? like a wag that goes fucking mental

user51: and wears team merch with pride

yourusername: nicole is a queen (thank you for one direction queen) but you guys do not want me on the microphone

user52: you and oscar karaoke? please?

yourusername: we once did breaking free together but you'll have to bother logan for that video

user53: OSCAR PLEASE WIN AND DO DRUNK KARAOKE

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,556,308 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: i told you she was my lucky charm. overjoyed to get my first win, it's a dream come true and to have the love of my life with me makes it even sweeter. y/n, i'll love you forever and a day x

view all comments

user54: CONGRATS OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡

user55: i'm having such a proud mum moment

user56: tears in my eyes

user57: not as much as y/n that girl was going THROUGH IT

user58: we need her mascara, cause that shit didn't budge

yourusername: I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU OSCAR

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: AND THANK YOU FOR WAITING FOR ME TO BE AT A RACE TO WIN

oscarpiastri: i guess i just knew in my bones you were here and simply had to win

oscarpiastri: i just wanted to see you so bad that i drove the fastest to the finish line

yourusername: well tell them to hurry up and debrief so we can celebrate 👀

oscarpiastri: ON MY WAY

user59: maybe we will get that karaoke?

logansargeant: congrats bro! @landonorris i hope you brought some ear plugs, if not you might want to start drinking now

landonorris: SOMEONE GET ME A DRINK STAT

yourusername: i'll personally buy you a drink because i'm going to rock his world tonight

oscarpiastri: 😎😎😎

landonorris: and here i thought you were my little innocent teammate

yourusername: there's nothing little about him

landonorris: EWWWW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE

yourusername: all celebrations aside, i'm so proud and i'll love you forever and always x

oscarpiastri: it's always been you and it will always be you

yourusername: i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too

fin.

note: WOOOOOOOOOO OSCAR!!! (i'm ignoring everything else to do with the race, oscar is my king)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Platonic Masterlist

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The Special AU

Melting Pot

-> A melting pot of universes

Melting Pot II

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[reareaotaku]

Masterlist IV [Complete]

Masterlist V | Masterlist III | Masterlist II | Masterlist I Updated: Aug. 28, 2024 [9:39 PM CDT] * = Slight Nsfw/Nsfw Content

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Lydia Deetz

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Goofy Movie

Max Goof

She Said See You Later, Boy [Pt. II of He was a Skater Boy] Birthday Celebration Max Goof Headcanons Max NSFW Headcanons* Max Dating Headcanons

Bradley Uppercrust III

Bradley Headcanons Birthday Celebration Bradley NSFW Headcanons*

Peter Pete Junior "P.J."

Birthday Celebration

Bobby Zimmeruski 

Birthday Celebration Bobby Headcanons*

Tank

Birthday Celebration

Goofy

Birthday Celebration

Teen Mutant Ninja Turtles

Michelangelo 'Mikey'

Mikey Headcanons

Donnie

Sweet Pretty Thing

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I Wanna Be More Than Friends

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Andre Harris

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

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Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

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It

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Turning

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Rev! Pine Twins vs Pine Twins Keep You Here [Pt II]

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Peanuts

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Ferb is quiet as a mouse

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Superman

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Tim Drake Headcanons

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Regina George Headcanons

Own Characters

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Coco

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Miguel Headcanons

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Prince/Fire Lord Zuko

Yandere Zuko Headcanons

Katara

Katara Headcanons

Avatar Aang

Avatar Aang Headcanons

[ficnation]

Chapter 8: Devour

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,3k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, canon divergence A/n: Here we go! A part of Su-zakana and we're slowly diving into our connection with Hannibal (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

You return home with Will that night after a long day of investigating the crime scene, only to find the house empty and the shadows of night already filling the rooms. The air carries a stillness, as if the house is holding its breath in anticipation of something—perhaps in preparation for what comes next.

The dogs are sleeping peacefully by the fire, their heads lifting with perked-up ears as they sense an intruder. But once they notice their owners, they just wag their tails and shortly after, return to sleep, reassured by your presence.

“Let’s talk then,” Will says, his voice quiet yet determined as he breaks the silence that hangs heavy in the air.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a flutter of anticipation mingled with apprehension. This is the moment you’ve both been avoiding yet yearning for—the inevitable confrontation. With a steadying breath, you gather your courage, readying yourself.

You step further into the house, shedding your coat and snowy boots, feeling the weight of the day lift as you leave the wintry chill behind.

“I thought the only thing that could haunt my dreams is my sister’s death,” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability as you confront the unsettling thoughts that have been plaguing you.

“Is it your father?” Will asks, his tone gentle yet probing.

“He was an asshole,” you reply bluntly, a trace of bitterness creeping into your voice as you recall the painful memories associated with that poor excuse of a man.

“I know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be in my nightmares. I don’t even think about him, Will,” you insist, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, knowing all too well that it’s a lie. The weight of unspoken truths hangs heavy in the air between you both. You can’t ever tell him the truth.

A flash of understanding crosses Will’s face as he takes in your words. Unlike most people, he can see through your denial, knowing that there’s more to your feelings than you’re letting on.

He studies your expression for a moment in consideration before speaking again, his tone laced with tenderness. “You do think about him, don’t you?” he asks quietly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You turn around instantly to avoid his gaze, walking over to the bed and plopping down on it with a heavy sigh, the weight of those words bearing down on you like a crushing burden. You change the course of the conversation. “It’s… It’s Hannibal.”

“He’s in your nightmares?”

“He never leaves them,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth hanging heavy in the air between you and Will. The mere thought of Hannibal’s presence infiltrating your dreams sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you of the insidious grip he still holds on your psyche. “He appears as this black creature, its eyes so black they resemble holes, a giant set of antlers growing out of its skull. In one of them, it impaled my hands on them.”

There’s a spark of recognition in Will’s eyes. He used to have them too, but they subsided once you came back. He knows this monster very well; it’s engraved in his memory. The shadow of Hannibal Lecter looms large over both of your lives, leaving an indelible mark that cannot be easily erased.

“Left me hanging there, face to face with this thing. Blood running down my arms...” You let out a trembly sigh. “The worst part is, there’s no pain. No distraction. It’s just me and him.”

He knows full well what it’s like to have Hannibal’s monstrous presence seep its way into your nightmares, haunting your sleep with his malevolent presence.

“You’re trapped,” he observes softly, his tone touched with empathy, “with him.”

Will joins you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He reaches out to offer you his hand, the gesture filled with an underlying sentiment of comfort and reassurance. His hands are cold—a grounding kind of chilliness.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything, Will. We’re in this together,” you assure him, your voice steady despite the lingering unease in your heart. “And we’ll find a way to face it together.”

“It’s not good for you. I see it so clearly.”

You see it too, more than clearly. Hannibal Lecter should never have entered your life, and you should never have entered his.

You’re not sure if it’s something particular he did, but it’s not just your nightmares he occupies—it’s your thoughts and fantasies. It fills your mind with immeasurable guilt because how could you do that to Will? How could you think about someone other than him like that?

From the moment you met Will Graham, you knew he was your everything. No man has ever come close to filling the void in your soul that he filled. No man has ever engraved himself in your memory like Will did. He was truly your everything. And now? Hannibal Lecter occupies your thoughts just as much as Will does—it’s unnerving.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits, head bowed in defeat, so you reach out and raise it with your fingers gently gripping his chin.

“We keep moving forward, Will,” you say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as light as a butterfly’s touch. “If you want to help all those people then let him devour us. Let him pray we’re not poisonous.”

“Literally?”

“Not literally, you fool.”

A few days later, you find yourself in front of Hannibal Lecter’s office, patiently waiting for his patient to emerge. You hadn’t expected to end up here at all, nor did you anticipate being the one to seek him out. How the tables have turned...

The young woman exits the room just twenty minutes later. She doesn’t rush, taking her sweet time to put her coat on and greet you with a “good evening” that sounds just a tiny bit snobbish. You wish you had you had the same luxury of time to savor such small moments.

The sound of your knuckles rapping against the wooden door echoes through the corridor. You wait patiently, anticipation stirring within you as you wonder how Hannibal will receive your unexpected visit.

A faint “come in” follows from within.

You push open the door, stepping into Hannibal Lecter’s office with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The room is bathed in soft lamplight, casting long shadows across the elegant furnishings. Hannibal sits behind his desk, his posture relaxed yet attentive as he regards you with a curious gaze.

“Mrs. Graham, I didn’t expect you,” Hannibal’s voice is smooth and composed, betraying little of his inner thoughts. You offer a polite smile, though inside, your nerves are coiled tight.

“I didn’t expect to end up here today either,” you admit. It’s the truth. You don’t have any idea why you’re here.

“Perhaps you’re here to talk about Will?” Hannibal suggests, his tone measured and probing, yet not demanding. He appears content merely with your presence.

“I’m really not sure,” you confess with a quiet chuckle, the sound barely audible in the air between you.

“Would you like to take a seat?”

“I’d like that,” you respond a bit too quickly, mentally cursing yourself for the slight hint of eagerness in your voice. “If you don’t have another patient waiting, of course.”

“I’m done for the day,” he says with a smile that tells you he definitely noticed your tone. That’s not good. Or maybe it is?

You take a seat in one of the armchairs, crossing your legs and looking at him expectantly. With a deep breath, you let your shoulders relax slightly. Hannibal takes the other armchair and mirrors your posture, crossing his legs and folding his hands atop them in a manner that echoes your own.

“Something tells me you’re not here because of Will.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Then why are you here, Mrs. Graham?” Hannibal inquires, his tone soft but curious, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that makes you feel like he’s peeling back layers of your psyche yet again. “Because of our unfinished conversation, perhaps?”

“Do you consider it unfinished?” You tilt your head slightly, a ghost of a smile playing over your lips.

“Indeed,” Hannibal responds, his own lips curving into a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Our last discussion left many avenues unexplored, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I believe the last thing I asked about was the purpose of your previous visit,” you say, your tone measured and composed.

“I recall that,” Hannibal acknowledges with a nod. “A valid inquiry, indeed.”

You nod your head and look at him expectantly, feeling a quiet buzzing in the back of your head. The black creature stands behind Hannibal, expressionless and looming like a silent sentinel. You discreetly rub your eyes with your fingers, not expecting it to help, but to your surprise, it does. The monster is gone, leaving not even a shadow after its disappearance.

“Would you like me to be perfectly honest with you?” 

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, weighing your words carefully before responding. “Yes, please,” you reply, meeting Hannibal’s gaze with unwavering determination. You brace yourself for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.

“I’ve been Will’s therapist for a while,” he begins, his hands finding their rightful place on the armrests. You can’t help but notice how majestic he looks in his domain. “You seem to be a person of significant importance in his life. Yet, I haven’t heard much about you. Not until recently, and even now, Will seems to be avoiding discussing your role in his life.”

Hannibal meets your gaze head-on, boring into your soul. His stare alone makes you want to tell him everything—things he’s not supposed to know and things he has no right to know.

You remember the words you said to Will. They echo in your head, bouncing off the walls of your skull. Let him devour us. Let him pray we’re not poisonous. They dissipate as you draw in a deep breath and release it slowly.

“Our paths to this moment haven’t exactly been peaceful,” you admit, idly playing with the edge of your skirt—not out of nerves, but to subtly direct Hannibal’s attention there.

The tactic proves effective as his gaze follows the movement, tracing down the length of your crossed legs to the black heels you wore during the dinner at his place. You’re almost certain it triggers memories of that day—the elegant green dress, the atmosphere thick with tension and intrigue.

You hold his gaze steadily, letting the silence stretch between you as you wait for him to respond. There’s a tension in the air, a palpable energy that crackles with anticipation.

Hannibal’s lips curve into a faint smile, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he meets your gaze once more. “Ah, the witness protection program,” he muses, his tone laced with intrigue. “It certainly has a way of reshaping one’s path, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does,” you agree, a hint of mystery in your tone. “You might be surprised to find out just how much.”

Hannibal’s smile widens slightly. “Not a lot of things surprise me anymore, Mrs. Graham.”

You lean just a little bit closer in the armchair, your eyes narrowing slightly as you focus on Hannibal. There’s a sense of anticipation in the air, as if you’re both teetering on the edge of a revelation.

“I see what Will sees in you,” he says, his tone soft yet filled with depth, as if acknowledging a truth that transcends mere observation. 

Hannibal’s gaze holds yours, his expression unreadable yet strangely intense. It’s as if he’s peering into the depths of your soul, searching for something that even you might not fully understand.

“Do you, Doctor Lecter?”

“Indeed, Mrs. Graham,” he replies, unwavering.

The air between you crackles with tension, igniting sparks that dance between the two of you. Despite being different people, there’s an undeniable similarity that hangs between you, palpable even without knowing him intimately.

“Would you like to tell me more about your time in witness protection?”

Hannibal’s question catches you off guard. You blink rapidly, surprised by his inquiry. You had hoped he would honor the unspoken promise he made to Will, naively believing he wouldn’t pry into the matter. Wrong. 

“It’s been peaceful. Tough to leave everything and everyone behind, but not working in the FBI has been a blessing,” you respond, offering a brief summary of your experience.

“But now you’re back in the field, why?”

“Curiosity, perhaps. A desire to be part of something meaningful again,” you reply, keeping your answer vague yet suggestive.

Hannibal shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re quite good at deception, aren’t you?”

Your mouth quirks up in amusement that he figured you out so easily. For some reason, it doesn’t make you sweat as it should. If he could uncover your lie that quickly, it meant he could unearth much more with just as much ease. It definitely should make you nervous.

“That’s what working in the BAU does to you,” you reply with a wry smile, hoping to brush off any further questions. “Makes lying your second nature.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, my dear.”

My dear—the nickname reverbarates in your mind, melting your brain with it’s sweet tone. I shouldn’t be here. Your cheeks flush with warmth, a sensation you’re not particularly fond of. You’re no longer a young schoolgirl harboring a crush on her professor. You shouldn’t feel like this.

Hannibal lets his eyes stray toward the elegant watch on his wrist, his lips pressing into a thin line. Hannibal sighs deeply, his gaze filled with longing as it returns to your face. Such a beautiful creature, he muses silently.

“I’m afraid our meeting must come to an end sooner than I’d like,” Hannibal explains, a regretful tone in his voice. “Time seems to slip away all too quickly in our conversations.”

Thank heavens.

“I understand,” you reply, masking a pinch of disappointment that creeps into your heart. “Thank you for your time, Doctor Lecter.”

“It’s Hannibal,” he reminds you with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Hannibal,” you murmur his name, tasting it on your tongue yet again as you stand up, smoothing out your skirt. “We’ll meet again very soon.”

Knocking on the door of the stranger’s shed elicits a cacophony of barks and screeches from the animals inside, their alarm evident. You lock eyes with Will inquisitively. You were well-acquainted with the case of Sarah Craber’s murder and the circumstances surrounding the discovery of her body. It was poetic. Not beautiful, but undeniably poetic.

When no one appears in the doorway, you let yourself in reluctantly. You follow Jack and Will inside, making a point to be the last one to enter. It generally makes you appear less threatening.

“Scare them when ya knock like that,” the manly voice is uninvating, perhaps carrying a hint of shyness.

“Apologies for the disturbance,” you offer with a polite nod, acknowledging the man’s comment and the subtle hint of shyness in his voice.

Jack simply shakes his head, still not accustomed to your courteous approach with suspects and witnesses. He’s always leaned towards a more direct method, but he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of your approach, which often yielded the best results.

“Peter Bernardone?” Jack questions.

The man in question reacts suspiciously, awkwardly turning his back toward your little group, trying to avoid your eyes.

“Sir?” Jack tries again, while you and Will exchange uncertain glances, unsure of how to react. “You don’t seem to be curious about who we are.”

“Who are you?” he mutters, barely audible. It’s evident that the question is forced out of him—an awkward effort not to appear suspicious.

“I’m Agent Jack Crawford with the FBI. This is Will Graham and Agent Avant,” he introduces you to the man. You walk around the small building, observing the various animals in cages. The place feels familiar, although you’re certain you’ve never been here before. Perhaps it’s these creatures that remind you of Will’s habit of collecting stray dogs.

“We’re here to ask you some questions about someone you may have had contact with when you worked at the Blackbriar Stables. A woman named Sarah Craber. Her body was recently found… in unusual circumstances.”

“I know,” Peter Bernardone interjects, sounding just a little guilty. “I know. I heard.”

You lean over one of the cages, locking eyes with a white rabbit. Its red eye resembles a small bead, peering straight at you yet seeming to look right through you at the same time. It’s beautiful yet unsettling. You’re glad Will takes in dogs and not bunnies.

“There was a bird in her chest. Did you hear about that?” Will looks around the shed before his gaze finds you, a small quirk of his mouth appearing when he notices you leaning over one of the cages, observing the little creature.

“Was the bird alive?” the man questions, more concerned about the animal than about the dead woman.

This question seems to catch all of your attention, as you look at Bernardone, surprised and intrigued, as do Jack and Will. Crawford wears a smugness in his expression that seems to say, “I told you so.”

“Yes.”

The man staggers, “Who— who— who taking care of the bird?”

You feel a pang of sympathy for him, for reasons you can’t quite articulate. You probably shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You can’t fathom him strangling an innocent girl to death. Yet, the world is cruel and deceptive, and even the most innocent-looking people can be capable of terrible things. People are flawed, and God knows that His creations can act worse than animals at times.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Bernardone. We wouldn’t leave it to die,” you reassure him, gently inserting your finger between the metal rods of the cage to stroke the soft, white fur of the animal. You smile when it doesn’t shy away.

The man’s shoulders drop a little in relief. A good sign.

“How well did you know Sarah Craber?” Jack questions.

“I didn’t know her,” Peter shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact with any of you.

Jack takes a step closer, and Peter freezes, looking like a deer caught in headlights, unsure where to direct his gaze or where to move. 

“Would you mind looking at a photograph?” your boss persists.

“I—” Peter stammers once more, his voice barely above a mumble. “I know who she is. I didn’t— I didn’t know her.”

Will and Jack exchange a silent glance, piquing your interest more than the rabbit, so you decide to leave it alone. You step a little closer, joining Will by his side. His hand reaches for yours, clad in warm gloves. 

“Just… take a look to be sure.” Jack reaches out his hand, holding the photograph out toward Peter.

It takes a moment before he finally extends his hand for the photo, his head turned in the other direction.

“I feel bad for him,” you whisper to Will, low enough not to be heard by the two other men.

“I do too,” Will responds softly, his voice carrying a hint of empathy as he grips your fingers just a little tighter.

Peter glances at the picture of Sarah Craber for a fleeting moment, his brain seemingly struggling to process the image before he returns it with an outstretched hand, his head once again turned away, eyes closed shut. 

Will’s eyes dart between Jack and Peter, his gaze shifting rapidly as he processes the interaction, piecing together the puzzle before him. “Did you get your head injury when you were working at the stables, Peter?”

The man in question point his finger at his head. “Yeah, okay. Kicked by a horse. Boom.”

“That’s an atypical motor response,” Will concludes, taking a step closer. “Peter’s abilities to look and touch can only happen as separate events.”

It all makes sense now.

“It’s aggravated by stress, right?”

“Are you feeling stressed, Mr. Bernardone?” you inquire in a gentle tone.

“Yeah, I’m worried about the bird.”

“Would you like us to bring it to you?”

The man doesn’t meet your gaze, his head bowed and his eyes blinking rapidly. He’s clearly overwhelmed by the situation, with too many questions and unfamiliar faces and voices.

“Yes. Worried about the bird. I’m sad for her death, sad for the horse, but I…” He looks at Will then at you. “I can only help the bird.”

As you exit the building, you can’t help but hope for the chance to visit again, under much kinder circumstances. You’re sure Peter Bernardone isn’t the killer, and Will seems to share your conclusion.

“I don’t know if he’s the killer, Jack,” he says, uncertainty shading his tone. He exhales, the breath visible in the cold air as a puff of fog. “If he is, he never meant to be. And if he isn’t, he knows who is.”

“He’s not the killer,” you affirm, your voice carrying a tone of conviction stronger than Will’s.

You don’t say anything else, tucking your hands into the pockets of your black coat as you stride toward Jack’s car, a quiet whistle escaping your lips. The icy air nips at your cheeks and nose. God, I wish I were sunbathing in the Bahamas.

The Chinese food lacks its usual flavor, failing to satisfy your appetite as it typically does. Seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, you absentmindedly poke at your pasta with chopsticks, lacking the usual enthusiasm for your meal.

“What’s wrong?” Will asks, his posture relaxed as he sits slouched in the armchair nearby, clearly not sharing your lack of enthusiasm.

You sigh deeply, punctuating your discontent with the last stab of the chopsticks into the takeout box before rising to your feet. With a resigned shrug, you leave it perched on the windowsill behind Will’s armchair, a silent testament to your waning appetite. You return to your previously occupied spot on the carpet, folding your legs beneath you as you settle back down, the fire casting a warm glow over the room.

“Jack’s got me looking at dead bodies again. Makes me wanna throw up,” you admit, the words carrying a hint of frustration and discomfort.

Will stops his movements, chopsticks halfway in the air, his gaze shifting from the food to you.

“You were supposed to work with the witnesses and suspects only,” he says, his tone tinged with more than annoyance as he lets the food fall back into the small box and leaves it on the windowsill next to yours.

“I thought so too. Turns out Jack doesn’t really keep his promises.”

“That’s not okay.”

“It’s not,” you agree, glancing at him in your peripheral vision.

The silence stretches between the two of you as you both gaze into the dancing flames of the fire. The crackling of the fire fills the room, punctuating the quiet tension that hangs in the air. Each flicker of the flames casts fleeting shadows across the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere. Despite the warmth emanating from the hearth, a chill seems to settle in the room, matching the unease that lingers between you and Will.

“I went to see Hannibal,” you confess, your voice breaking the silence with an impulsive urgency.

Will’s expression shifts subtly, a mix of surprise and curiosity flashing across his features before he masks it with a neutral facade. “Why?” he asks, his tone carefully measured.

“I don’t know.”

“Curiosity?”

“Might be.”

Will nods slowly, his eyes studying you intently. “What did you two talk about?”

As you sit in the flickering glow of the fire, contemplating your words, Will’s attention shifts fully to you, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. He leans forward slightly, waiting for you to continue, his eyes searching your face for even a little hint.

“You and me, our paths.”

Will nods slowly, his gaze still fixed on you, waiting for you to elaborate. The weight of his silent anticipation hangs heavy in the air, urging you to delve deeper into your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. “Our paths, they seem to keep intersecting, don’t they? Whether by fate or some other force, we’re constantly drawn together, tangled in each other’s lives.” You pause, searching for the right words to convey the complexity of your connection with Will. “It’s like we’re two parallel lines that can never quite stay apart, no matter how much we try.”

“We’re intertwined in ways that neither of us fully understands,” you continue, your voice carrying a mixture of resignation and longing. “And sometimes, I wonder if that’s a good thing or a curse. But regardless, here we are, facing whatever comes our way together.”

The man nods silently, his expression reflecting surprise at your mention of fate. It’s been some time since you broached the topic, and he had assumed you no longer believed in its influence. Yet, as he considers your words, he realizes he’s pondered the same question himself on numerous occasions.

A blessing or a curse. Will is not offended in the slightest. You clashed on more than one occasion, burning down anything that crossed you paths at the wrong time. Yet, you always end up together, as if some unseen force continually draws you back into each other’s orbit.

You offer a small smile in response to his silent acknowledgment, realizing that perhaps there’s more to your connection than mere coincidence or happenstance. Despite the uncertainties and complexities of your relationship, there’s a shared understanding that binds you together, transcending the barriers of logic and reason.

“I love you, Will. With all my heart.”

“Well… I’m sure you can’t love me more than I love you. I’ve waited for you my whole life.”

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[littlemsshoney]

Hi,

Do you take requests? Ifnot,sorry to bother you.

But if you do, would you mind writing Yandere Hannibal with Will‘s sister.Will is overly protective of her, but can‘t ‚save‘ her from Hannibal

A/n I really really love this idea, thanks for the request!!

pairing; Yandere!Will Graham× sister!readerxYandere!Hannibal Lecter x reader (romantically)

Life had been particularly harsh with Will. Any little thing that could potentially bring him some sort of happiness was forcefully taken from him in some way or other. He was a grown man deprived from any type of pleasure, happiness, comfort or love.

So when it came to you, you were the beam of sunlight in the stormy mess it was his life.The only good thing about his childhood he wanted to keep, he held you close and tightly to his heart so that nothing and no one could take ever you away from him.

He had always been overprotective whether you were older or younger than him it didn't matter. He took with pride the role of your protector and carried it out with all the necessary actions (to the point of sometimes crossing boundaries). He had been through a lot and he promised to himself he would never let you go through that.

So when it came to his current life he didn't want you to be involved. He talked to you frequently on the phone, putting on a happy voice, trying to hide his exhaustion or the gore details of his job, the nightmares, the hellutinations. He had painted you a very vague picture of his life giving you however the impression your brother was finally happy.

He didn't want you to worry or be in danger. Imagine your surprise when Jack called you as a last resort informing you about your brothers latest mental breakdown

When you visited him not believing your brother could lie to you found out that not only he had started being active in the FBI, but he was living alone in the middle of nowhere with an actual pack of stray dogs and no friend let alone girlfriend in sight.

It wasn't worrying, it was disturbing.

He was isolated, in an emotionally traumatic job, on the verge of insanity rejecting any kind of help.

And then he came into the picture.

You met Dr Lecter when he came by one morning to visit your brother. Both completely unaware of each other's existence he couldn't help but fixate on you.

He studied the way you behaved with your brother, how sweet and willing you were to soak all of his pain and make it yours. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Your pretty face, full of panic and worry about your brother's situation. He found it adorable.

Perhaps it was the secrecy of how Will tried to hide you from him, the sweetness of a forbidden fruit or Probably it was his sick and twisted mind making some relation between you and Mischa but he found you fascinating.

He found you witty and kind, sharing your brother's sarcasm, so different from Will but still having that sense of familiarity.

Of course you were so uninterested in anything but Will, so it was obviously this would be an obstacle. But he knew your weak spot and he never was too shy to rub some salt in one's open wound if it meant he would get his way.

In every session with Will he asked questions related to you, about your bond, your childhood and with a bit of research of his own aka stalking he knew everything about you.

So when the kind, helpful, charming doctor wanted to help you with your family problems how could you say no?

Will's world shattered when he saw how slowly Hannibal started becoming part of your daily life, how he turned you away from him and into his arms. He caught you texting all the time, leaving at random times going out for a walk, coffee or any other stupid excuse you could think of.

Did you really think he was that stupid?

Having been used to your brother's very open control of your life, with his rules and overprotectiveness Hannibal subtle manipulation was a breath of fresh air. Unable to detect anything he felt to you safe and familiar and the way he got out of his way to help you and your family made it hard not to fall in love with him.

He showed you what Will had always been afraid for you to see, your brother is a crazy, mentally unstable and potentially dangerous person who could ever hurt you. But Hannibal, he could help- no he promised you he would.

He hates it however when your time spent together was interrupted with something Will related. He hated the energy, time and emotions you gave away to Will. Your affections, your time and love, it should all be his. He hadn’t shared a thing in his life and he would never share you not even with your own brother.

It wasn't long till he managed to turn you against your own brother. It wasn't hard given how he had been lying to you for the past months about his life, or how exhausting he made it for you. It was an emotionally draining situation, he knew was holding back your relationship so he had to put an end to it. He also couldn't stand the codependent relationship between you and your brother; there couldn't be anyone else in your life to trust and adore more than him.

After that there was a pull and push dynamic with both your brother and boyfriend trying to control you in their own way. Will of course unable to do anything he cooperated afraid he would lose you and all the control Will used to have over you had now Hannibal.

But it was for the best, don't worry. He knows you're a beautiful thjng ready to flourish under his care and protection so don’t be surprised if sometime Will crosses him and Hannibal suggests a mental hospital for him, that’s for your best interest too!

[starryevermore]

head full of petals: autumnal arrival interlude ✧ eris vanserra

head full of petals ✧ an eris vanserra anthology | ao3

pairing: eris vanserra x tamlin’s sister!fem!reader

series summary: it is not easy to be a female in prythian. it is even more difficult when you’re the daughter of a high lord. the expectations are great, and the punishments for failure are even greater. all you have known for your entire life is falling in line. yet, when you are expected to marry another, you choose to do something for yourself: run into the arms of your mate. or, a series of interconnected oneshots surrounding the life and times of eris vanserra and his blossom. 

chapter summary: in which you learn that autumn is not so different from spring.

word count: 1,378

chapter warnings?: a little fluff, references to beron’s cruelty, pet name (blossom), not proofread

You held on tightly to Eris as he readied to winnow you away from your childhood home. When Beron wasn’t looking, he sent you a reassuring smile. You steadied your breathing and leaned into your mate. Tamlin was making you promise to write—he was your only brother to see you off. Just him and your mother, Merry. You tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. But even if your face did not show it, the mating bond betrayed you. Eris sent reassurance down the bond, and something that might have felt like the beginnings of love. 

And then, just like that, you were gone. 

The Forest House was suffocatingly warm when you arrived. You felt faint and leaned more into Eris’s side. His brothers that had joined on this trip to Spring, Graham and Heath, slipped away as Beron turned to focus on you. Your chin lifted, trying not to shy away under his scrutinizing gaze.

“You may have the evening and tomorrow to adjust,” he said. Beron turned to Eris. “After that, you are responsible for ensuring she acclimates.”

“Yes, Father,” Eris said, voice tight. 

It felt odd to not say anything. Though you were certain Beron was the sort of male to think females should be rarely seen and never heard—after all, he was friends with Hamish—you couldn’t help but think that remaining silent would only make things worse. You offered a small smile, and said, “Thank you, High Lord, for the great kindness of allowing me to join my mate in this great Court. I look forward to being a member of such a distinguished family.”

That seemed to satisfy the High Lord. All you had to do was stroke an ego a little bit, and males like Beron were easily pleased. He said to Eris, “Keep her like that and we will have no issues with your mating bond.”

Eris gave a curt nod. It was not until Beron left the room that he finally relaxed. “I am sorry,” he said. 

“I am used to males like him.”

He looked pained as he said, “I hope that is not true.” He loosed a sigh, then continued, “We may go to my chambers for some respite, but we should attend dinner tonight. Beron may have seemed so gracious to give you time to adjust, yet he will expect us there.”

“Of course. Will we…be sharing your chambers?” you asked.

It would not be a surprise if he said yes. But you had never shared a room with anyone before, much less a male. Much less a mate. From your limited conversations with Eris, he did not seem the sort to force you into anything you were not willing to do. That did not make it any less strange. Eris felt your anxiety and squeezed your hand. 

“I do not trust you to be safe anywhere else. Beron and my brothers will not bother you there. Well, I suppose Lucien might turn up every now and again. If you indulge in his whimsy, he will leave eventually. He is not the sort of male to harm a female.”

The underlying message was clear. Lucien would not, but Eris could not make any promises about the other males in his family. “I understand.”

“Then let us go there now. There is more still I would like to tell you, blossom.”

Instead of walking, Eris winnowed you to his chambers. You wondered if it was for the ease, or if it was because Eris worried about you running into someone he’d rather you avoid. Was everything in Forest House a walking danger, or was he paranoid? Was it his mate instincts, or did he care for you more than the flirting earlier that day? 

Eris’s chambers were rather simple. Quaint, perhaps. He didn’t have many decorations, save for some little acorns and leaves and a stack of papers that almost looked like they were covered in children’s scribbles. You wondered how he would feel when your little knick knacks covered every knock and cranny. 

“This is the safest place for you to be in this house. The drawing room is alright, too, but I would prefer if you refrained from being there unless myself, my mother, or Lucien are present. Should you decide to be there alone and anyone comes in, please excuse yourself as quickly as you can.”

You raised a brow. “Is it truly so dangerous here?”

Eris’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “The males in my family like to break pretty things. Lucien, of course, is harmless, save for his relentless teasing. I don’t trust any of my other brothers.” Or Beron. Especially Beron. 

The air was becoming too tense, too serious. So you smiled and batted your eyelashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up before turning serious once more. At least you got Eris to smile for moment, though. “These are our chambers. You can do as you please here. Decorate it however you like. Paint the walls pink if it pleases you. I understand how…limiting your life will be here, but I would like for you to find a safe space within these four walls.” Eris nodded at the bed. “For your comfort, I will take the settee while you take the bed. At least until you are comfortable. While I am your mate, I don’t want you to think of me as the sort of male who will force you.”

You eyed the bed. It was bigger than your one in Spring. Perhaps the benefit of being an heir as opposed to the lowly daughter of a High Lord. “Your bed is large enough that we could lay on either side and never bother the other unless we so chose,” you said. “And I would hate for you to be uncomfortable in your own room. And…I might like to be held.”

Eris smiled appreciatively. “I will not do anything you do not wish me to do,” he said. He paused, searching your face. “But, if we ever do, I will begin taking a tonic. I will do everything I can to keep you safe here, but it is harder to make such guarantees if there are little ones around.”

Was there no end to Beron’s cruelty? You nodded. “Should I not be the one to take the tonic?”

“No.” Eris looked more serious than he ever had before. “If Beron found out, and I pray to the Mother that he never would, I would rather I take the punishment than you.”

He spat punishment like it was poison in his mouth. Mother above, there were a million things you wanted to ask. So many things about the Forest House, about his family, about what he had to endure. But you weren’t sure if you should, or if he could even answer. So, you closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his middle. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the dull thump. thump. thump.

The door opened, and Eris was quick to wrap his arms around you, hold you closer. Tighter. You swiveled your head as best you could. A woman with long auburn hair and kind eyes stepped inside. Eris relaxed.

“I heard you found your mate,” Saffron said. Her eyes landed on you, and she smiled. As you pulled out of Eris’s arms, she said, “Oh, you’ve grown so much since I saw you last!”

When you were younger, Saffron would often come with Beron when he’d meet with your father. In recent decades, however, her presence was less frequent. She had changed, too, since you last saw her. While still kind, her eyes held a sort of pain, and the way she held her hands close to her chest made you wonder if she endured her own brand of Beron’s punishments. 

You smiled at her. “It’s nice to have another friendly face here.”

“You’ll soon be sick of my face. My son will be furious of how much time I spend with you,” Saffron said. “I always hoped one of my sons would be your mate. I’m glad it was Eris.”

You looked up at him, your soft smile becoming a grin. “So am I.”

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Part 3

Eris x Azriel'sSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

Warnings: overbearing brothers

Series Masterlist

Part 2 || Part 4

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year 3

Morrigan had never been overprotective of you like your brothers were.

You'd been six when you and Azriel were released from that cell and taken to Windhaven. You were the youngest, and everyone treated you as such.

But never Morrigan.

The day you turned 16, Morrigan had dragged you to a bar to get wasted with her. Rhys’s mother had sent you both to the cabin for a week after that.

But with Morrigan, you could speak freely. You didn’t have to worry about scandalizing her like you did with your brothers. You could barely say a bad word around them without them acting like you'd killed somebody. To them, you were still the scared little girl who didn’t speak until she was 11.

“Mor, you’re still hungover, we’re not going out again tonight,” you scolded the female. She pouted.

“Getting drunk is exactly what I need to get rid of this hangover,” she insisted. You giggled as your shadows swirled around her.

Rhys’s talons gently caressed your mind, and you let them in.

Come to my office, now.

You tried to keep from being anxious at the tone. You got to your feet, explaining to Mor that you’d be back.

Your shadows were giving you no intel as you made your way to his office, and his talons never left your mind.

You recalled when you were first brought to Windhaven, how terrified you’d been. You didn’t speak back then, and they were all concerned about you.

The first time you’d had to leave Azriel’s side in your entire life was his first day of training. You had been so upset with no way to express it.

Rhys had caressed your mind, thinking it would help. But it had terrified you, and you'd thrown a screaming fit that only his mother had been able to calm.

For years, you would cry anytime he tried to enter your mind. But centuries later, you had become used to it.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you finally entered the office.

All three of your brothers were there, and none of them looked happy.

They’re upset, a shadow whispered.

No shit, you replied. You winced as it tugged a strand of your hair in response.

“We’ve received a letter from Eris Vanserra,” Rhys announced, holding it up.

You chewed on your bottom lip, anxiety eating at your gut.

“He invites you to a ball being thrown in his honor,” Rhys explained. “According to him, you owe him a favor.”

“Shit,” you grumbled, earning a raised brow from Cassian.

“Why don’t you tell us exactly why you owe him a favor, dear sister?” Rhys asked you, setting the letter down.

“A few weeks ago, when I went to meet with Graham, Eris found me waiting,” you admitted. “He told me Graham had been beheaded.”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“I did tell you!” you objected.

“No, you told us your shadows informed you of Graham’s death,” Azriel corrected. “And you certainly didn’t mention Eris Vanserra.”

“I knew it’d just upset you all,” you explained.

“Damn right,” Cassian agreed, narrowing his eyes.

“Why do you owe him a favor, Y/N?” Rhys demanded, impatience wearing his voice thin.

“I said if he didn’t turn me into his father, I’d owe him a favor,” you explained, sighing.

“Well, you’re not going to this ball,” Azriel decided. You glared at him.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you snapped.

»»————-　♔　————-««

You liked to talk to the portrait of Rhys's mother nearly every Sunday. It was stupid, but you enjoyed catching her up on your week. Even the mundane details.

Rhys's mother, Selene, had been everything to you. She was never a replacement for your own mother, but you still loved her like one. And she loved you like a daughter. She had rescued you from your father's keep after Azriel had been sent to Windhaven, you left behind to rot in that cell, only six years old and all alone. 

“I just hate how overbearing they are,” you were telling her. “I didn’t even want to go to this ball, but now that they’re forbidding it, I have half a mind to go.”

Her beautiful, violet eyes stared back at you. Even if it was just a painting, it was comforting.

“I hate Eris, but I hate being told what to do more,” you went on. “You know that better than anyone. The only thing holding me back is it might hurt Morrigan if I go.”

Every interaction you had with him, you thought of your cousin. Your best friend. Guilt would eat at you with every word you said to him.

“But she might understand,” you debated. “I’m just doing it to spite my brothers. She does things to spite her family all the time.”

It may not have been a fair comparison, but it was true.

“You would never have forbade me from a ball,” you mumbled. “I miss you.”

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 2)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Wedding night so mentions of sex but nothing explicit is described, it fades to black. Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 7.5k+

Part 1 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

"I've known the Duchess for most of my life," Viscount Hong explained as the carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets. "Our late fathers were close friends. My sister and I spent a few summers at the Graham's duchy in our childhood; although my sister was probably too young to remember much of that."

Soonyoung tried to focus on the Viscount's words, but it was difficult to hear them over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat. The two gentlemen were on their way to your manor now. Soonyoung had asked to speak with you himself, though as the manor looked closer, he was beginning to regret his decision. 

What was he going to say to you? What did one even say to a Duchess who had proposed marriage after a single conversation? Thank you? 

Soonyoung cleared his throat and tried to focus on the conversation. He needed to understand as much as he could from the Viscount before he faced you. 

"Did you never think of marrying her yourself?" Soonyoung asked. 

Viscount Hong looked surprised. "Oh- erm… not with any real seriousness. I will admit our late fathers may have preferred it. The Duchess is a good person, but I am not sure we were ever compatible in that way."

"So you were not compatible with her," Soonyoung replied in mild disbelief as he looked at the handsome, rich and otherwise impeccable Viscount in front of him, "but somehow you think I am compatible with the Duchess? Me? The second son of the Kwon family who doesn't have a single useful talent or penny to his name, me?"

The Viscount Hong sighed. 

"Soonyoung, think about this rationally. The Duchess is a young woman who has no surviving family and has been burdened with a title, fortune, and dukedom that nobody in the ton thinks she should have. She did not even have a chance to properly mourn her father; the moment he died, there were petitions submitted to the Queen by noblemen protesting her title and seeking to take her lands from her. She is fighting a battle against some of the most powerful men in the country, all alone. What do you think she wants in a husband?"

Soonyoung stared at the Viscount blankly. 

"I haven't the slightest idea," he admitted. 

The Viscount pressed his fingers to his temples. "She wants someone she can trust, Soonyoung. She came to me for help. I will not lie to you. I did introduce her to other eligible gentlemen. For some reason, she turned them all down. The Duchess only expressed an interest in you."

Soonyoung felt nauseous. "But we only talked about cakes."

"What?"

"At the ball. During our dance. I was nervous and she asked me why her ball exceeded the usual London ones, so I told her she had a better selection of cakes. That is all we talked about during the dance, Viscount Hong. Cakes," Soonyoung admitted worriedly. "I just can't understand why she would…"

The Viscount smiled. 

"You had better ask her yourself, then. We have arrived."

—----------------------------------------------

The Duchess' manor was as intimidating and magnificent as Soonyoung remembered it. He still felt unworthy to walk these grand halls. He followed Viscount Hong anxiously as a servant led the two gentlemen towards one of the many drawing rooms that Soonyoung had never set foot in before. 

"Viscount Hong and Mr. Kwon are here, Your Grace," the servant announced their arrival. 

You were seated near the window, but rose gracefully to greet the gentlemen. Soonyoung was struck once again by your beauty. In the absence of the sparkling lights of the ball and the heavy jewellery, even in the simple pale morning sunlight, you were still the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. 

"Thank you for coming," you said to them both in your soft, lilting voice. Your smile- the beautiful one that Soonyoung noticed still did not quite reach your sad eyes- made him almost forget to greet you with the proper decorum. 

"Your Grace," he choked out quickly, bowing his head. 

The Viscount glanced between the two of you with an amused smile. "Well, far be it from me to intrude upon your conversation any longer than necessary. I have brought a book that I am quite keen to read. I will employ myself accordingly. I only ask that if your conversation takes too long, I might be served some tea."

"I have sent for some tea already," you promised the Viscount, who retreated to the far corner of the room. He made a show of seating himself as far away as possible, facing in the opposite direction from you both and burying his head in his book. 

You turned to Soonyoung. 

"Mr. Kwon; please, have a seat."

Soonyoung walked with shaky legs towards the small table near the window. There were two ornate chairs on either side-  he sat across from you and took a deep breath. His hands felt clammy. 

"Thank you for coming," you repeated to him softly. Your hands were folded politely on your lap. "I must apologise for not approaching you directly on this matter, Mr. Kwon. Considering how brief our acquaintance has been, I thought that if you were not inclined to matrimony or wished to reject my proposition,  you may  have been more comfortable expressing your response to Viscount Hong. I am very glad you asked to meet me.”

Soonyoung stared up at you with wide eyes. 

“That is… very considerate of you, Your Grace,” he said politely. The mere thought of hearing your proposal directly from you instead of from Viscount Hong made his palms sweat. Soonyong was certain that his current position was far preferable. 

You smiled at him gently. “You must be… surprised.” 

“I will not pretend that I anticipated any of this.” 

“Allow me to explain,” you began carefully. “I am sure the Viscount has given you an indication of my situation. I lost my father- the late Duke, a few months ago and have inherited his title. I have no surviving family and the reception from the ton and other titled noblemen to inheritance of the lands and title has not been… entirely positive,” you explained. Soonyoung watched you, captivated. You spoke calmly, and a faint strain in your voice towards the end of your sentence was the only indication of any loss of composure. 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “I-I am sorry to hear that.” 

“Thank you,” you replied simply. “While I am relieved that my family’s legacy is not lost, I must admit that the role of a Duchess is not one which was designed to be played by a lady alone, particularly not an unmarried one. In addition to the friction from the other noblemen, my position makes it difficult for me to do justice to my duchy. It is also important that I secure the future lineage of my family so that my father’s efforts are not in vain. I am explaining these things to you, Mr. Kwon, so that you are better able to understand my reasons for needing to marry soon.” 

Soonyoung nodded. “Yes-yes, of course, Your Grace, I understand.” 

A servant entered the room with some tea and biscuits. You paused and waited for her to pour you each a cup, and directed the servant to send one over to Viscount Hong in the corner of the room. Then you turned back to Soonyoung and watched him put two sugars in his cup. 

“I see you have a sweet tooth,” you remarked with a small smile. 

Soonyoung’s ears turned pink and he froze halfway through stirring his tea. “I-I, erm. Yes, yes, I am partial to a little more sugar than most,” he admitted self-consciously. “I apologise. I should perhaps try not to consume so much of it…” 

Your expression was gentle as you looked up at him. “I do not think a habit of excessively sweetening one’s tea is the worst vice a gentleman can have, Mr. Kwon. Viscount Hong speaks very highly of you.” 

Soonyoung’s ears reddened further and he coughed. “I-I did not realise you spoke to Viscount Hong about me, Your Grace.” 

Your eyes dropped down to your tea and Soonyoung saw a flash of that familiar sadness in them for a moment before you spoke. “I have been finding it… difficult to trust people of late. Some of my father’s closest allies signed a petition to have my title revoked. Others have made underhanded attempts to orchestrate a match with their sons and usurp my duchy. Viscount Hong is the only nobleman I can still trust. That is why I sought his aid to find a suitable husband. I considered his judgement to be more impartial and reliable than anyone else I knew.” 

Soonyoung nodded in understanding. It was becoming increasingly clear to him now- this was a very delicate situation that extended beyond frivolous gossip and societal opinions. This was about politics and land and power. The Viscount had been doing you a favour by being vague  at the ball a few nights ago. It would not be appropriate for the entire ton to know that the Duchess of Graham had turned down most of the offers made to her by noblemen and was seeking a husband elsewhere. 

Soonyoung bit your lip. “I am sorry that you are in this position, Your Grace,” he said carefully. “But I must commend you for placing your faith in Viscount Hong. I doubt I could name anyone with more integrity or honesty than the Viscount.” 

You bit back a smile. “I am glad you think so. Because the Viscount led me to you.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, he led me to you. I…” 

You set your tea down and took a deep breath before lifting your eyes to meet Soonyoung. He was stunned into silence by the power of their gaze. There was a deep, deep sadness in your eyes but he also saw strength and gentleness. 

“I apologise for putting you in this situation,” you told him honestly. There was a hint of regret in your soft words. “This is hardly the most romantic way in which to propose marriage and I am sure it cannot be flattering to you to be put in this position. I assure you, Mr. Kwon, I will not blame you if you cannot find it in yourself to enter into this… marriage of convenience.” 

There was a long silence. 

It only occurred to Soonyoung much later that there were other things he should have carefully considered about the match- the possibility of gaining a fortune, a title, and lands, of going from a penniless second son to a Duke in one move. There were so many reasons to accept your proposal. None of the other gentlemen of the ton (least of all Mr, Kim and Mr. Lee) would believe Soonyoung when he said that none of those things had been on his mind at that moment. 

Instead, he had only one thought on his mind. 

You needed help. And while Soonyoung could not pretend that he fully understood you (there was still so much hidden behind that beautiful smile and deep eyes of yours), there was one thing that he was fairly confident about. 

He wanted to be the one to help you. 

“It would be an honour, Your Grace,” Soonyoung said slowly and carefully, “to be your husband.” 

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

Soonyoung felt like he was in a dream as he exited your manor that afternoon with Viscount Hong. His mind and body seemed to be  floating in the clouds, and it was difficult to concentrate on what the Viscount was saying to him. 

“... cannot tell anybody about the engagement, yet, you understand, not until the Queen has granted her approval for the marriage. Perhaps in two days the announcement can be made in the papers. I assume the Duchess will handle making an appointment with the Queen, but-” 

Soonyoung was suddenly and violently jerked out of his reverie. 

“Sorry- did you just say the Queen?” he demanded. 

Viscount Hong gestured for the carriage driver to begin and then turned back to his companion. “Yes, the Queen. The Duchess is one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. She is part of her court. Naturally you will both need to approach the Queen for her blessing before you can announce the engagement publicly. You risk offending Her Majesty if you do not approach her before a public announcement.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. He suddenly felt faint. “Yes, but surely the Duchess will handle that…” 

“The Queen will naturally want to see you in order to grant you her blessing to the couple.” 

“O-oh.” 

Viscount Hong bit his lip as he looked at the startled young man sitting across from him in the carriage. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Soonyoung.” 

“Yes?” 

“Have you fully thought about this? Really thought about it? Being a Duke is not easy and there is an incredible amount of responsibility involved. The Duchess is entangled in the middle of a political tussle and I am sorry to say that she is on the weaker side. She needs someone who can be strong and support her through this ordeal. I know you are capable of doing so, I would not have recommended you otherwise. But I need you to step up to the task. The Duchess needs you to step up to the task.” 

Soonyoung looked up at the Viscount sharply. There was a newfound determination in his eyes. 

“I will do whatever is necessary,” he said firmly. 

The Viscount relaxed. “Good. I will let you know once an appointment has been made to meet the Queen.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Lee Seokmin was quite drunk. 

“I cannot go to the navy alone!” he cried, his glass of whisky sloshing all over the expensive carpet. Fortunately for Seokmin, Mingyu was far too entertained by the scene before him to be concerned by the damage Seokmin was doing to his drawing room rug. “We were supposed to go together! We were going to capture pirates together, Soonyoung!” 

Mr. Lee Jihoon raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “It is quite unlikely that you would both have been stationed on the same ship.” 

Seokmin paused. “We could have met at the naval base.” 

“Yes, because the royal naval base is simply full of pirates ripe for your picking.” 

Soonyoung was currently on his fourth glass of whisky and Kim Mingyu’s drawing room was beginning to appear hazy to his intoxicated gaze. The gentleman’s club was the preferred haunt for the group of bachelors gathered, but it was too public for the present celebration. Since the announcement would not be made in the papers for a few days, it was important to keep the news of Soonyoung’s engagement under wraps. They had gathered in Mingyu’s drawing room instead. 

Jihoon, the most sober gentleman in the room by far, leaned closer to Soonyoung. 

“Seokmin is merely inebriated,” Jihoon told him gently, misreading the worried expression on his friend’s face. “I hope you do not blame yourself for destroying his dreams of capturing pirates- my sister and I would never have consented to him joining the Navy in any case.” 

Soonyoung blinked. “Oh.” 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Soonyoung.” 

“Thank you.” 

Someone passed Soonyoung a cigar and he lifted it to his lips, taking a deep drag before leaning his head back against the armchair. He did not smoke often- he did not even drink often but the consequences and ramifications of the decision he had made earlier today were rapidly descending upon him. In order to distract himself from the sinking thought that he had perhaps made a rash decision that would impact the rest of his life and your life, he allowed Jihoon to refill his glass. 

“I would like to raise a toast,” Mingyu announced loudly, rising to his feet and lifting his glass. “To Kwon Soonyoung, the man who refused to chase the dowry so the dowry came chasing him!” 

Everyone chuckled. Soonyoung clumsily tossed back the whisky. He was beginning to feel nauseous. 

“For heaven's sake, that painting is an eyesore,” Jihoon complained loudly as he gestured to one of the obnoxiously large paintings of a tastefully nude woman that Mingyu had displayed above the fireplace. “Is there nowhere else to hang that? What do you do when there are ladies present?” 

Mingyu chuckled. “Do not fret, Mr. Lee, I will be shifting that painting to my art gallery once it is opened. As for the ladies, I entertain them in the breakfast parlour. It has paintings of kittens.” 

Jihoon was still unimpressed. “I pity the women you court.” 

“May I remind you that you are the one who cannot seem to stop staring at the painting?”

“You little-”

“I need some fresh air,” Soonyoung announced. He was barely audible over the sound of Mingyu and Jihoon debating the inappropriateness of nude paintings in a drawing room. Setting his glass down and finding his unsteady legs, Soonyoung walked towards one of the large balconies and stepped out into the night air. The cool summer breeze swept through his hair. He leaned against the railing for a few minutes- eyes closed, and thinking about the whirlwind of events that had led to him being engaged to a Duchess in a few days. 

“Soonyoung?” 

Seokmin had followed him onto the balcony. The younger Lee rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he joined Soonyoung near the balcony railing. 

“Seokmin.” 

“Jihoon thought I might be upsetting you by going on about the Navy. You know that I don’t actually resent you for backing out? I was merely joking. You’re about to be married, I couldn’t be happier for you,” Seokmin said honestly. He had a smile on his face. “You’re about to become a Duke.” 

Soonyoung swallowed. “A Duke. Yes.”

“Why do you look worried?” 

“Because I am worried,” Soonyoung confessed. His knuckles were white as he clasped the railing of the balcony and the words spilled out of his mouth rapidly. “The Viscount is right. I don’t have the faintest idea what the responsibilities of a Duke are. Having a title like that and a duchy is no joke, it is about politics; something I have no knowledge of. It is not merely my own life on the line. Everything I say and do will impact the Duchess. She is… she is not merely asking to marry me, she is trusting me with her property and family legacy and reputation. I-I don’t know if I am capable of this.” 

Seokmin stared at his friend for a long moment. 

“Soonyoung. You underestimate yourself.” 

Soonyoung bit his lip, hard. “Do I?” 

“Do you know what any other young man in your position would do?” Seokmin asked knowingly. “He would celebrate that some woman had handed him a fortune and a title on a golden platter. The fact that you are seriously considering the responsibilities involved with the dukedom proves that the Duchess was not wrong to choose you.” 

“I don’t know why she chose me,” Soonyoung admitted with a sigh.  

“Did you not ask her?” 

“I should have asked, perhaps- it just… I did not get the opportunity and she called it a marriage of convenience, so clearly the answer cannot have been anything very flattering,” Soonyoung mumbled. He took a deep breath and looked up at the moonlight sky. “I wish I could celebrate with you, but all I can think of is how I am suddenly deeply terrified of disappointing the young lady that has misplaced her trust in me.” 

“Soonyoung,” Seokmin said firmly. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You are overthinking this.” 

“Do you really think so?” 

“You were prepared to go out into the open sea and fight pirates and enemy ships. I never once saw you show fear at the thought of joining the Navy. Why do you suddenly think you will not be able to handle the simple task of being a good husband?” 

Soonyoung sighed. “I trained to be a sailor. I attended the Royal Naval Academy for years. Nobody has ever prepared me to be a Duke, Seokmin.” 

“Then start preparing now. It is not too late.” 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. Yes, Seokmin was right, He did not need to blindly blunder into this situation. He could prepare. He would prepare and would  prove to you that you had not made a mistake by choosing him.

Kwon Soonyoung would learn to become a Duke. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung fidgeted in his brand new coat as he waited for your carriage to arrive. The coat was not uncomfortable in the least. On the contrary, it was perfectly tailored to fit Soonyoung, as opposed to the hastily mended hand-me-downs from his brother that he often wore. The Viscountess Hong was an angel; upon hearing of Soonyoung's engagement, she had promptly sent for a tailor to customise a new suit for Soonyoung to wear to his meeting with the Queen. 

His meeting with the Queen. 

A phrase that Soonyoung had never imagined he would say with any seriousness, and yet here he was. Standing near the entrance of the royal palace and waiting for the Duchess of Graham to meet him for a private audience with the Queen.

Your carriage approached and Soonyoung took a deep breath as he hurried forward. The footman was mildly surprised when Soonyoung stepped up to the carriage door himself and offered you a hand to help you descend. 

You gave him one of your soft smiles and accepted his hand. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kwon,” you told him. Your deep eyes glanced at him in an almost approving manner. “Is that a new suit? You look very handsome.” 

Soonyoung could not prevent his ears from turning red at the compliment and he struggled with what to say in return. You looked radiant in a beautiful green dress that emphasised your glowing skin, and he opened his mouth to return the compliment… but nothing seemed sufficient to encapsulate how beautiful he thought you were. He waited too long; the moment passed. 

“The Queen was pleased to grant us an audience even at such short notice,” you informed Soonyoung in a hushed tone as you both entered the royal palace and followed a pair of servants to the audience chambers. Soonyoung tried to focus on your words and not on the gentle pressure of your hand resting near the crook of his elbow. “I am sure she will be perfectly pleased to grant us her permission to marry, but I must warn you- Her Majesty is under the impression that this is a love match.” 

Soonyoung cleared his throat nervously. “A love match?” 

You blinked  up at him apologetically. “I have already rejected offers from the sons of a few other Dukes that attempted to have my title revoked. The politics here are complicated; I found the easiest way to justify marrying someone outside of the commonly expected options, was to tell the Queen I was in love.” 

“I see,” Soonyoung swallowed. “In love-yes, yes, I suppose we may say that.” 

You seemed worried. “I apologise if this is sudden-” 

“Not at all, Your Grace,” Soonyoung told you firmly. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. This was his first test and he was not about to let himself be thrown by a small change in circumstances. He could handle this. He would not disappoint you. “It is not an issue at all. I will be sure to confirm the Queen’s understanding that this is a love match.” 

You seemed relieved. “Thank you, Mr. Kwon.” 

You both arrived at the audience chambers and waited in the hallway for a few moments until the Queen was ready to see you. Soonyoung’s heart was beating at an unnatural rate and he resisted the urge to fidget with his sleeves and cough. Your gloved hand resting lightly near his elbow somehow worked to keep him grounded. He focused on your gentle touch and kept his composure as the doors to the audience chamber opened and a guard came out. 

“Her Highness has granted you an audience. Please enter.” 

The Queen was seated at the head of the room. Soonyoung did not dare lift his head to look her in the eye. He did not even dare to look properly around the audience chamber for fear that the grandness and magnificence of the royal palace would cause him to lose composure. He simply allowed your gentle hand to guide him where he needed to go and followed you into a deep bow before the Queen. 

“Ah, the Duchess of Graham,” the Queen greeted you loftily. “I must say that I was pleasantly surprised when you requested an audience, The word among the ton is that you have rejected so many eligible suitors that I had quite despaired of your ever marrying. I am relieved to see that is not the case.” 

You responded quickly- your voice was soft and deferential. “Your Majesty. You have bestowed my family with the most precious gift of all by allowing my lineage to continue to hold the dukedom. We are forever indebted to you for your kindness and naturally, the decision of who should be the next Duke of Graham was not one that I could take lightly.” 

This seemed to please the Queen. 

“And you have finally made your choice? Mr. Kwon, I hear?” 

Soonyoung bowed his head. "Yes, your Majesty."

The Queen observed him slowly and critically. "You are a handsome young man; I can certainly see why the Duchess prefers you. But the question remains- can you be a Duke?"

Soonyoung swallowed. "I will do my best, your Majesty."

The Queen huffed. "I suppose that is all one can ask for, really- my dear Duchess, have you quite set your heart on this man?"

You bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then far be it from me to stand in the way of your love. You have my blessing. You may marry- and Mr. Kwon may be granted the title of a Duke," the Queen said dismissively.

"Thank you, Your Majesty-"

"Yes, yes. Be on your way and prepare for your wedding. And my dear Duchess- now that you shall have a husband to handle the matters of your estate, I expect you to attend to the royal court far more often. You will need to join me and the other court ladies for tea at least once a fortnight."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Your grasp on Soonyoung's arm relaxed noticeably and Soonyoung was relieved when you began to leave the room and he could follow you. The moment you both left the audience chambers, he released the breath he had been holding and looked up at you with a sheepish smile. 

"That was… not as difficult as I expected," he admitted with a grin. 

You smiled back at him softly. "Did you think it was going to be difficult? I did tell you that Her Majesty would be pleased to grant her permission."

Soonyoung flushed. "Yes, but- I mean… I have never met the Queen, so…"

"Of course. I can understand. I thought, perhaps we should discuss, before we part… when we might have the wedding?" you began. There was a sudden shyness in your gaze that Soonyoung was surprised to note. 

He blinked. "Whenever you see fit, Your Grace."

"Our engagement will be announced in the papers tomorrow," you told him as you both walked back to your carriage. "Since we have the Queen's permission to marry, I do not believe a lengthy betrothal is necessary. Unless you had any objection- perhaps next Monday?"

Soonyoung froze in his path. "For the wedding?"

You noticed his hesitancy. "Was there any reason you wished to wait longer?"

Soonyoung opened his mouth to speak. It was all happening so quickly. He almost wanted more time to prepare, to comprehend the life he was getting into. But he saw the anxiety in your eyes. You wanted to be married soon and he could understand- the pressures you were facing were not light. 

It was not the time for Soonyoung to be selfish. 

"No. No, next Monday is perfect, Your Grace," Soonyoung said quickly. Your carriage was waiting outside the palace and your footman rushed to open the door for you. 

"Then I will have the arrangements made," you told him gently. 

"E-excellent."

Soonyoung held out his hand to help you into the carriage but he was interrupted by your butler, who suddenly approached with an armful of books. "Mr. Kwon!" the butler greeted him politely. "I had these brought over from the Graham library, as per your request. Was this what you were looking for?"

You paused and frowned at the books. "What are these?"

Soonyoung's ears turned pink. He had expected the butler to give them to him privately- not in front of you. He took the books and smiled at you awkwardly. 

"I-I realised that I knew very little about the Graham duchy so I asked your butler if he could find some books that would teach me about your family lineage and the history of your lands," Soonyoung admitted shyly. He noticed the shock in your deep eyes which slowly melted into something much, much softer and affectionate as your eyes dropped to the heavy genealogy book at the top of the pile. 

"Mr. Kwon…" you said softly. "You really don't need to do that."

Soonyoung cleared his throat. "I would like to."

You stared at him for a long moment. Soonyoung felt almost exposed under your lingering gaze. He could not read what was behind your piercing eyes and he was about to apologise for overstepping when you finally spoke again, a small but noticeable crack in your voice. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “We will see each other soon, Mr. Kwon.” 

“Of course. Goodbye, Your Grace.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The week before the wedding went by in a flash. The announcement of the Duchess of Graham's engagement in the papers had predictably thrown the entire ton into an uproar. Kwon Soonyoung went from being an obscure, little-known gentleman to the name on everyone's lips in the span of a single morning. 

He was overwhelmed with invitations; to tea at the Baron's house, to dine with the Carter family and many more. It seemed that every single noble family suddenly wished to make Soonyoung's acquaintance and pretend that they had been very familiar with him all along. Soonyoung honestly thought that he may have gone mad if it had not been for Seokmin and Mingyu by his side. 

"This happened to my family as soon as my sister's engagement to the Viscount was published in the papers," Seokmin said as he rifled through the invitations. "The entire month was spent having dinner with different families."

Soonyoung's head was buried in a weighty tome about the genealogy of the Graham dukedom and he looked up with a sigh. "I barely have time with wedding preparations to attend half of these invitations. Not to mention the reading I hoped to do. What should I do?"

Mingyu, sitting in the corner of the room with a pipe in his mouth, chuckled. "Ignore them."

Soonyoung frowned. "What if some of them are from important families of the ton, they may take offence-"

Mingyu laughed as he took the stack of invitations from Seokmin's hands and smoothly tore them in half. "Important families? Oh my poor dear Soonyoung. I am not sure you understand what is happening to you. You are about to be a Duke. You are now the important family that everyone fears offending. You don’t need to worry about them!"

Soonyoung blinked. "Was it necessary to tear them?"

"I would tear that book in your hands as well, if I thought I could manage it. What are you doing, Mr. Kwon? These are your last few days as a bachelor- are you really going to spend them reading? Something you never even did in your short time at Oxford?"

Soonyoung bit his lip. "This book is rather dry."

"That's the spirit-"

"Do you have any books on agriculture I might borrow? The duchy consists largely of agricultural land and I was hoping to understand more about how the agrarian community pays its taxes."

Mingyu looked aghast. 

"None of that. Stop that immediately and come have a drink."

While it was difficult to get the notorious rake to discuss anything seriously, Soonyoung did manage to extract some advice from Mingyu on managing an estate once he was sufficiently drunk, and Seokmin was a welcome presence that served to keep Soonyoung's spirits high. 

The day of the wedding finally arrived. It was a smaller celebration than customary for a Duke's wedding and there were many members of the ton that openly lamented not receiving an invitation. Despite the short guest list, Soonyoung was still anxious as he stood up at the altar and stared at the sea of people watching from the pews. 

"I still don't understand how you seduced the Duchess," Soonyoung's elder brother grumbled from behind him as he adjusted his cuffs. It had taken no small effort to keep the elder Kwon sober and presentable for the wedding; Soonyoung would forever owe Jihoon a debt of gratitude for undertaking that unpleasant responsibility and executing it without complaint. 

But he did not have the opportunity to respond to his brother. You suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle and Soonyoung felt as though the entire room had fallen away and you were the only person standing before him. 

You looked exquisite, in a simple white dress and with a gentle smile on your face. Soonyoung watched, almost in a trance, as you walked gracefully down the aisle in a slow, practised gait. You looked divine and Soonyoung was suddenly reminded of how in over his head he felt, how he was marrying a woman so far, far above his station that this had to be some sort of a dream or joke, it could not possibly be real that you were about to become his wife. 

You reached the altar and looked up at him quietly through your eyelashes with a small smile. 

Soonyoung's heart pounded as you both turned to face the minister. The man read out some pre-written drivel about holy matrimony and Soonyoung tried to concentrate but all he could focus on was the sound of your soft breathing beside him and his own pounding heartbeat. He barely remembered saying his own vows.

"Mr. Kwon," you said softly. "The ring."

Your voice snapped Soonyoung out of his reverie. Somebody was presenting him with a ring and he swallowed nervously before reaching for it. It was a delicate little thing; Soonyoung fumbled with the ring for a moment, but to his relief it did not fall from his grasp. He reached for your hand- your soft, gentle hand- and placed the ring on your finger. 

It was done. 

You were married. 

The rest of the morning felt like a blur. Soonyoung received congratulations from dozens of people he had never met in his entire life. He found himself thrown from conversation to conversation like a child's ball until finally your hand on his elbow tightened and you whispered softly in his ear. 

"Our carriage is waiting outside," you said. "We can leave."

"Yes, let's."

It was a number of goodbyes before Soonyoung could finally reach the carriage and help you inside. Soonyoung climbed in as well and once the door was closed behind him, he took a deep breath and looked across the carriage at you. 

"I think that went rather well, Your Grace," he said to you lightly. 

You smiled back at him. "I thought having fewer guests would make the ceremony quicker but I am afraid we were still detained much longer than expected. Would you object if we went directly to the estate for the night? It is not very far- a few hours' ride."

Soonyoung nodded. "Of course."

—----------------------------------------------------------

You fell asleep during the carriage ride to the Graham estate. Soonyoung was torn between watching the magnificent views of the countryside and the sight of your head drowsily leaning against the carriage wall as you tried to fight sleep. Soonyoung couldn't help but smile at the sight of your eyelashes repeatedly fluttering closed and then fluttering back open in protest. 

It appeared even the Duchess of Graham got sleepy during carriage rides. 

It was late evening when you both arrived at the Graham estate and although Soonyoung was now much more prepared than before, he was still struck with awe at the sheer size and grandeur of the estate. There were vast gardens at the entrance and the manor itself loomed over the carriage. He could hear the sound of a creek nearby. 

"Welcome to the Graham manor, Your Grace," you told him. 

Soonyoung descended the carriage slowly, taking it all in. Was this to be his home? Was he really going to live here? Did all this really belong to him now? 

"I am afraid we don't have enough time for a tour of the estate this evening," you told him as the servants hurried to open the front doors for you. "I sent word ahead to have supper ready. Perhaps tomorrow, I can show you around the manor and the gardens?"

Soonyoung swallowed and nodded silently. 

"Shall we dine?"

"Y-yes."

The dining room was magnificent and there was a lavish spread for supper. Soonyoung decided that he was too far gone to exhibit any shame; he had not eaten all day due to the anxiety from the wedding, and was in no position to refuse the delicacies served at the table. Even the knowledge that you were watching him eat quietly with a small smile on your face did not deter him from filling his cheeks with food. 

"Mr. Jones, will you show the Duke upstairs?" you asked once supper had been cleared away. Soonyoung was surprised when one of the butlers quickly ushered him upstairs through various lengthy hallways and foyers to an enormous bedchamber before he could ask any further questions. 

A warm bath had been prepared for him in an adjoining bathroom and Soonyoung was surprised to see that all his belongings had already been brought and neatly unpacked in the bedchamber. He undressed and relaxed in the bath for a few moments before the fog from the excellent supper cleared from his mind and he remembered. 

This was his wedding night. 

You would have to consummate the marriage. 

Soonyoung jerked upright and the water sloshed out of the side of his bath. He finished the bath quickly and dressed in a fresh night-suit that had been placed on the bed for him. Then he paced the room and regretted not asking someone about this sooner. 

How did this work? Would you come to him? Did he go to you- but no, the manor was enormous and he did not have the slightest idea where you had gone after dinner. He could not wander the hallways searching for your. Should he ask a servant? The sheer mortification from the thought of doing so made Soonyoung shiver. 

Would you even want to consummate the marriage? You had said in your own words that this was a marriage of convenience and not a love match. But even marriages of convenience were consummated! You had mentioned carrying on the lineage and to have children it would be necessary to consummate, so surely it would be done? 

But perhaps you did not intend to do it tonight. You had fallen asleep in the carriage and you were probably tired from the journey. Perhaps the assumption was that you would consummate at a later time? 

There was a soft knock on the door to the bedchamber. 

"Come in!" Soonyoung called. 

You peeked your head around the door and Soonyoung jumped to his feet. "Your Grace!"he greeted you. 

"May I come in?"

"O-of course!"

You entered the bedchamber slowly; you were wearing a soft satin nightgown that revealed your silhouette and Soonyoung felt his blood rush to all the wrong places. Your cheeks were flushed and you were biting your soft lips nervously. 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. 

Well. It appeared that this would be happening tonight after all. 

"I thought- we never got a chance to taste our own wedding cake, so I had them bring a few slices back for us," you explained softly. Soonyoung  noticed that there was a covered tray in your hands. He rushed forward to take it from you, and placed it on the bedside table. 

"Our wedding cake?" Soonyoung repeated anxiously. 

You nodded and lifted the cover off the tray. There were two small slices of a pink strawberry cake covered in white frosting on the tray, as well as a bottle of wine and a pair of wine glasses. Soonyoung stared at the tray and then looked back at you. 

"Oh," he said. "Cake. I see."

"The wine was a gift from Viscountess Hong," you continued to explain. Your voice was growing quieter, and Soonyoung noticed that you looked rather flushed. "She thought it might.. help. I must admit that I already had a glass earlier. But perhaps we could share another one?"

That explained why you looked flushed and the way your deep eyes boldly darted up to his and then turned away shyly. Soonyoung took a deep breath to calm himself and sat on the bed.

"Wine and cake," Soonyoung said with a smile. "Two of my favourite things."

"I thought you would regret missing the wedding cake. It's strawberry- made from fresh berries from the strawberry fields on the estate and the cook says she improved the recipe since the ball," you said. You were speaking more quickly than you normally did and Soonyoung noticed the slight tremble in your hand as you poured out two glasses of wine.

"Have you already tasted the cake as well?"

You shook your head. 

Soonyoung was not sure where his sudden burst of confidence came from. He certainly never imagined that he would ever have the strength to make a move on any woman, much less a Duchess. But you were nervous. He could see it in your anxious eyes, in the soft lips that you kept biting, and the way your hands trembled slightly as you grasped your wine glass. 

He took a small piece of cake on the spoon and held it out to you. 

"Taste it first."

You stared at him for a long moment before leaning forward and taking the bite that he offered. You swallowed it and nodded. 

"I think it's rather well made," you said softly. 

Soonyoung chuckled- he had no doubt that it was well-made, it even smelled delicious. He took a huge bite out of the cake and delighted in the sweet strawberry taste that exploded in his mouth. 

"That," he said firmly, "is the most delicious strawberry cake I have ever tasted."

You giggled. "Soonyoung, the cream is all over your face. Here…"

You leaned closer to him and used a napkin to wipe away the cream that had stuck to the corner of his lips. Soonyoung was suddenly flooded with your scent; the familiar fragrance of lilacs and an intoxicating scent that was you, so uniquely you. His dark eyes darted up and met your heavy, lidded gaze. 

You kissed him first. 

It was not a surprise- Soonyoung had been leaning forward but your lips found him much sooner than he expected, and he had to grasp the edge of the bed to steady himself. You were clumsy in your movements- perhaps it was the wine- and Soonyoung soon found himself wrapping his arms around you to steady you both in a deep, passionate kiss. Soonyoung's fingers grasped fistfuls of your satin nightgown and pulled you closer to him. 

You gasped when his lips met your neck. Soonyoung was gentle but his touch was firm and your warm bodies melted together as you both explored each other with your hands and lips. Your hands grasped fistfuls of Soonyoung's dark hair, and you let out a squeal when Soonyoung grasped your waist tightly and turned so that you were lying underneath him on the bed. 

He looked down at you for a moment. Your hair splayed out on the pillow and your lidded eyes looked up at him nervously. He could see the excitement and the anticipation, but also a hint of fear in your eyes. 

"Soonyoung…" you whispered his name hesitantly. "I… I've never…."

Soonyoung decided that he would never give you a reason to look at him with fear again. He leaned down and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips and waited until he felt you relax against his lips. 

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered gently, "and we can stop."

You looked up at him and nodded. 

"A-allright."

—-------------------------------------------------------

[leviathanspain]

one night only

eddie roundtree x dunne!reader

synopsis: your entire adolescence was being in love with eddie, and now as an adult you have to learn that love is a cruel thing

a/n: i got carried away writing this so it’s way more than just an eddie fic? it’s very angsty and very much not your happy ending, at least with eddie because he’s an ass in this

you practically screamed as you and camila fell into the van that held your two brothers and their band mates.

you had fallen into eddie’s lap, his face soft surprise as he helped you up. “boys.” you greeted your brothers who’s surprise overtook their features.

y/n dunne: our parents weren’t so happy to be having their teenage daughter on the road with a bunch of guys. but it helped that two of them were her overly protective brothers.

billy dunne: was i concerned? not as much as i should’ve been. i was sort of focused on camila.

graham dunne: i guess you could say that i took responsibility of her. she wasn’t quite the kid anymore but she still had a lot to learn about life.

you had decided to take on the challenge on managing the band. so far, getting gigs wasn’t getting any easier and the band was only getting worse. but at the end of the day, there was always someone who put a smile on your face.

you had gone out back to smoke, hoping that it would clear your mind, but instead you found the bane of your existence and the main reason you even left town.

“eddie.” you didn’t expect to see him out there but there he was, in his shining nighttime glory.

“hey y/n,” the sound of a chair being dragged over dirt and sand was heard and in front of you, “have a seat.”

you sat down and watched eddie take out another cigarette from his pack and hand it to you. you took it gratefully and waited for him to light it.

as the lighter flickered in his hand, you leaned forward with the stick in your mouth. silently you waited, and eddie lit it, but you held burning eye contact with him, before inhaling and smiling at him.

silence met the action and you flicked the cigarette, “i managed to get us a good gig, no weddings this time.” you promised and eddie laughed, “are you sure? cus the last gig-“

“was a bust. but i’m learning as i go, same as you guys.” you defended yourself and eddie laughed, “good girl.” he encouraged you, but all it did was leave you with a hunger.

y/n dunne: i could’ve died with eddie roundtree i love you written on my forehead and he wouldn’t take the hint.

karen sirko: everyone but eddie knew it.

you didn’t know what had come over you. one moment, you were in your room trying to get some sleep after a long day of arguing with club owners on the phone to drinking until the sun came up with the band.

y/n dunne: i wanted his attention. took me years to admit why i did what i did that night.

your hands were entangled in the fabric of his shirt. the man dancing against you was nameless to you, just a man you couldn’t resist the feeling to push up on. you had looked around to find eddie but he was long gone.

disappointed filled your head and you felt like you wanted to cry, but that was the alcohol already taking over. the man you danced with noticed the drop in mood and grabbed your waist pulling you in, “wanna get out of here?” his gruff voice whispered in your ear and as you looked around once more, you had agreed, feeling him pick you up.

billy dunne: she didn’t come home for two weeks, and when she did, it was with a marriage license and a raging coke addiction.

y/n dunne: i like to call it my daisy jones days.

graham dunne: i guess after dealing with your sister like that, you learn a thing or two for whoever’s next.

you dragged your bags to the door and knocked loudly. the weight of the bracelets on your hand made for an even noisier knock. after a few more moments knocking, the doors finally opened, eddie standing on the other end.

y/n dunne: i had hoped that i wouldn’t have to see him so straight off the bat. but i guess things happen for a reason.

he was shocked, plain and terrible shock was on his face as he stepped out of the way to let you in, “y/n! where have you been?! we have all be worried sick.” it was a rushed embrace as he hugged you and you quickly pulled away. you ignored his question and instead changed the subject, “where are my brothers? are they home?”

y/n dunne: it was seven in the morning, of course they were. i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t talk to him like nothing, even if he didn’t know that i loved him, i did.

the sound of more bags being dragged into the house tore eddie’s attention away from you. as you left to wander the house, eddie was left to greet your new husband.

y/n dunne: i had left them alone intentionally. kit wouldn’t like eddie, and i knew eddie wouldn’t like kit.

karen sirko: a little diabolical i would say.

warren rojas: lady killer.

kit stuck his hand out to eddie and smiled tightly, “christopher blackwell. but you can call me kit.” eddie shook his hand, a silence overtaking them.

eddie roundtree: y/n had brought home a greek god. i mean, he had to duck under door frames, he was so ripped you could see the muscles under his shirts, his hair was tossled impossibly good…

karen sirko: i was so jealous. he was practically etched in stone.

graham dunne: i was pissed.

shouting heard distantly had filled the awkward silence between the two of them. eddie turned to look at the incoming figures from the hallway, “i’m here now, billy! i refuse to believe you even noticed i was gone!”

billy dunne: sad thing was she was right. graham had told me a week later.

billy was already readying another argument when eddie stood up from his seat and cleared his throat. “billy, have you met kit, your sisters husband?”

eddie roundtree: billy was pink for the rest of the day. i had never seen him so mad.

graham dunne: it was definitely a day to remember.

billy dunne: that day she came home with him was the day i got my first gray hair.

you grabbed kit’s hand after billy’s outburst, “let’s go? i’ve got a friend who’s got a place for us to stay at.”

your husband nodded, “should i load the car up again?” you nodded quietly, clearly upset over billy and having to see eddie, you needed to be free of this house, at least for a little while.

as kit began to load the bags up again, you ventured down the hall to your bedroom, grabbing all the remaining belongings and stuffing them into bags you found all over your room.

as you turned to leave, giving the room one last look, you nearly fell over at seeing eddie, “how long you’ve been standing there?”

eddie shrugged, “long enough to get ask if you’re sure about what you’re doing?”

you laughed, “really, roundtree?”

eddie raised his eyebrow, “what?”

you shook your head, “you don’t get to say that. you don’t get to have an opinion on how i live my life, because u like you, i’m living it for me, not my bandmate’s girlfriend!”

karen sirko: having to hear that argument while you’re ‘sleeping’ in your bed was rough.

camila dunne: i didn’t even know she had come back, only saw the back of her dramatic escape.

silence filled the space, eddie because of pure shock and yours because of regret. but it was too late now. you pushed past him, dragging the bags full of your belongings, you didn’t even say goodbye to your brothers as you threw yourself into the car, kit’s foot already slamming the gas as the two of you disappeared.

graham dunne: that day still haunts me. there’s so much that i wished i could’ve done differently. but we were different people back then, and we had other priorities.

billy dunne: i was hard on her because i knew her, i knew that this was a life lesson she needed to learn.

it had been months since you’ve seen the band. you had heard their song on the radio and fought the urge to call them. you wanted to, congratulate them on the feat they achieved without you. but the way you left things always had you hanging the phone up.

y/n dunne: i didn’t know who i was. i suppose i never really did. i was so lost during those days.

kit blackwell: the drugs were killing her. i would come home to her passed out in the bathtub, the lines next to her on the toilet seat.

the final cry for help was when he couldn’t wake you up. the water wasn’t working, and slapping you awake wasn’t either. taking the chance, he grabbed you, tossing you into the car before speeding away for the hospital.

y/n dunne: he saved my life that day. he wasn’t even supposed to be home and he found me..

kit blackwell: i knew something wasn’t right. one of those days it would happen, and that day it did.

the band had to find out about your overdose from your husband, who had hesitated to even contact them.

graham’s knuckles were white as he hung the phone up, the rest of the band looking at him with raised eyebrows, “what happened?”

graham shook his head, using a hand to cover his mouth, he paused before speaking, “y/n overdosed. she’s being discharged into rehab today. kit just called.”

eddie roundtree: was i mad? of course i was. but i was even more mad because i never knew she had been doing drugs in the first place.

the recovery had been slow and hard. everyday was hard and your temper had worsened. your husband took most of the hits, constantly arguing with you, until you’d apologize and tell him what was really bothering you.

“i’m sorry.” you’d finally break, tears welling as he opened his arms, always ready to receive you.

kit would hug you tightly, kiss you and nod that it was okay, because to him this was sickness and in health.

y/n dunne: i was an awful wife. i didn’t know how to cook, i couldn’t clean very well..

kit blackwell: she was perfect. i didn’t care of her faults, because to me she was perfect.

more months passed and you had finally reached out. kit had begged you to, knowing it would help your final stage of recovery by reconciling with the people you had hurt.

so there you were, outside their doorstep with another secret.

y/n dunne: i guess being dramatic has become my thing over the years.

kit blackwell: i didn’t want to send her over alone. but i guess she wasn’t really alone.

you could see your bellybutton stick out from under the dress. you rubbed a hand down your belly as the door opened.

karen greeted you, a wide smile on her face as she pulled you in for a hug. she hadn’t even noticed the protruding belly that when she bumped against it, she had let out a gasp.

“oh my god!” she was practically jumping off the walls as she realized.

karen sirko: i had never been happier for someone. she was clean, she was healthy, color in her skin, i mean what more could we have asked for?

y/n dunne: i was around twenty or so weeks but i was showing by twelve weeks, so i looked farther along than i was.

billy and graham had mixed reactions. they were your big brothers, how could they not be upset? but slowly, after a long talk with them, they had come around.

“just picture it. uncle graham.” you had nudged your brother and he smiled, “i guess it’s not that bad.” he leaned down to your belly, “uncle graham here..”

you laughed and pushed him away gently, “graham!” and graham erupted into a laughing fit that had you and the rest of the band laughing as well.

billy dunne: to be honest i wasn’t happy. i didn’t think she was ready, but i wasn’t either when camila told me about the baby just a few weeks later.

y/n dunne: he called me to apologize for things he didn’t even say. i accepted it because it’s billy, hardly does he ever apologize.

eddie’s reaction was almost like a silent horror. your absence has filled him with an unknown feeling. he couldn’t fill it, no matter how much booze he tried or how many girls he fucked, it was still a huge aching hole.

eddie roundtree: i was blinded by camila. i didn’t see y/n right in front of me until it was too late. but i think in the back of my mind i always knew.

warren rojas: it was obvious. i’ve seen it all from the beginning anyway but basically, y/n had been in love with eddie since we had been practicing in their garage. eddie was in love with camila for god knows how long-

y/n dunne: i had stopped loving eddie the day we fought. i couldn’t do it anymore, i wouldn’t torture myself any longer.

warren rojas: then she got married and eddie was starting to get jealous and then she got pregnant and that’s when reckless eddie came out.

eddie was like a wound up matchbox car. all he wanted to do was sit and argue all day every day. during practice was when he would antagonize billy the most.

y/n dunne: i had stopped managing them when i left. so i hardly knew what was going on because i was too busy getting ready to raise my kid. so when i get the call…

warren rojas: it was like a car crash. you couldn’t help but keep watching.

eddie’s voice was shaky as he talked, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know and now i do and all i can do is sit and watch you two be happy and have your kid. that should be my kid, i should be married to you.”

kit blackwell: i would’ve killed eddie if she hadn’t begged me not to. i knew she loved him, but her love had changed and she didn’t love him like that anymore.

y/n dunne: i would’ve hung up but he would’ve just kept calling.

you saved yourself the trouble and made kit drive you down to the house. you didn’t even bother to greet the band, making way to the back porch.

eddie was slung out over one of the chairs, a cigarette lazily hanging out his mouth and beer bottles tipped over.

he looked up at you with a wide smile, “baby..”

y/n dunne: i would’ve punched him but i was also heavily pregnant so..

kit blackwell: i did it for her.

you had left the house crying, clutching your own arms as a way to comfort yourself as you made way to the car, “kit.” you sobbed, and he got out the car quickly, “what happened?”

warren rojas: he was an asshole to her man. i had never felt so disappointed than watching and hearing what he said to her. he had practically yelled at her for not waiting for him and for marrying some other man.

graham dunne: by that point, i had actually taken a liking to kit. he cared about her, like really cared. no man would stay after what happened with her and rehab. but he was a good man.

billy dunne: i liked kit, and i didn’t like eddie. kind of a no brainer on who’s side i was on.

karen sirko: of course i was on her side. she was my best friend, and i was the future godmother of her child.

camila dunne: i didn’t know what to believe.

eddie had hit the floor with almost no effort. he was a mess, the beer bottle spilling over with him. no one else made a move to help him, not even as kit continued to barrel through the house like a storm, did anyone move a muscle.

warren rojas: i was scared that if i moved i would get punched.

graham dunne: my sister had failed to mention that her husband had gotten into boxing so he knew what he was doing when eddie hit the floor.

kit blackwell: i was pulling my punches.

karen sirko: it was incredibly romantic.

you and your husband had sped away quickly after, still crying in the passenger seat, it had been a painful drive home.

y/n dunne: i guess i should mention that eddie and i had slept together the first month we were out there. we swore we would never tell anyone but considering we were fighting all the time, it was obvious.

warren rojas: of course i knew. i had caught them! but it was a drunk mistake, at least they said it was.

y/n dunne: it was. but he was drunk and i was stupid. i thought he loved me and that he had finally seen me for me.

eddie roundtree: it was my fault she got addicted to drugs. my rejection did that to her.

y/n dunne: he said that? oh god no, i got addicted because it was los angeles in the mid seventies.

kit blackwell: he also asked her if she was sure the baby was mine. but she didn’t tell me that until the day after because she knew what i would’ve done.

you had invited the band except eddie over to your house to meet the baby.

y/n dunne: everyone thought kit had asked for eddie not to be invited but i actually made that decision.

karen sirko: was i surprised? not really, but i was even more surprised that he had actually listened and stayed home.

warren rojas: i would’ve supported eddie except he was actually in the wrong this time so i let it go.

the baby in your arms gurgled as kit opened the door. cheers erupted as the band waltzed in, karen going to grab the little baby from your arms.

you shouted “be careful!” as she took the baby outside. graham grabbed your arm and gave you a tight hug, “baby sis, how’s your baby?”

you smiled brightly, “he’s doing good, karen took him out back.” graham nodded and made his way out back.

billy hugged you next and kissed your forehead, “god im so proud of you. i really am.”

y/n dunne: of course i noticed eddie wasn’t there. i just didn’t think he would actually listen and not show up. but was i upset he didn’t go? no. i have a happy memory of my family all together and he didn’t ruin it.

eddie knew staying back was a bad idea, especially when camila had volunteered herself to stay back with him. she was pregnant too, and eddie wondered if making all the women he loved married and pregnant with other people was a method of torture forced onto him by god.

“i should’ve gone.” eddie muttered, as camila sat down next to him.

she shook her head, “she purposefully asked for you not to come. and you wanted to go?”

eddie shrugged, “i usually do that. i think-“

“that you need to get over her? she’s married to that real life ken doll and she’s got a baby. maybe you need to do the same and move on.”

eddie roundtree: none of that was what i wanted to hear. i wanted..

warren rojas: go get her back. steal her from him and run into the hills with the baby. blah blah blah, he had that all rehearsed and memorized and i had to hear his ‘plan’ constantly.

y/n dunne: i think at that point eddie loved me more than i had ever loved him. i was happy! and i think for a moment so was eddie.

the band was taking off. their success put a smile onto your face, especially as their fan base grew. but that still didn’t stop the last phone call you ever got from eddie roundtree.

eddie roundtree: everyone had been so focused on billy and his addiction that i thought of her. i called to tell her so she could talk some sense into him, after all she knew what he struggled with but..

warren rojas: it was a shitshow. i didn’t even know you argue like that through a pay phone.

y/n dunne: there’s nothing more i wish to ever say to him.

“you know, i loved you more than i ever loved anyone? not even camila, who i’ve spent years pining over. but you! you are the light of my life, you are the air that fills my lungs. y/n please don’t do this to me..” he pleaded, his voice was shaky and his hands were white as they gripped the phone.

“i don’t care, eddie. one night, it was one night and even then, it didn’t matter. why does it now? because i’m finally happy? don’t call me anymore.”

y/n dunne: it got worse after that but it doesn’t matter anymore.

kit blackwell: he had told her that he had slept with her because she was desperate.

eddie roundtree: it was so stupid. so stupid.

kit blackwell: that comment had only made things worse.

radio silence from eddie followed. you and kit had made the collective decision to move across the country, for the better of your marriage and your son.

y/n dunne: you think i wanted to stay in california after all that? no. i wanted a fresh start with my family and i got that.

ansel blackwell: new york is my home for me and my siblings. i think it was sort of a blessing in disguise that they moved out of california.

graham dunne: having her not there was definitely hard to get used to. but she was off being happy, and that made it easier for sure.

karen sirko: i had planned to move to new york anyway, so nothing changed for me.

eddie roundtree: are we done? because i don’t have anything else to say. it’s been twenty years.

kit blackwell: best twenty years spent.

y/n dunne: my heart has never been fuller.

[vioartemis]

Madly in love

(Amber Freeman x fem! Carpenter! reader)

Summary: After being attacked two times by Ghostface, you find out your girlfriend is one of them. The moment you think everything is over, she talks to you, and the story take a whole new turn... a/n: In this it's not Amber who attacks in the opening scene, it's Richie (I know according to the timeline and all it's impossible but I didn't how to do otherwise TT) Request is here :)) hope that's what you wanted Warnings: blood, injuries, death (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

“Y/n can you try and convince your girlfriend to come over? I don’t like to be alone a night..”

“Well you’re not..? I’m here too”

“You know what I mean”

“No I don’t”

You took two plates out of the drawer and set them on the kitchen’s counter.

“Come on you don’t like it either. We get bored way too easily, Amber would find something fun to do” Tara said, filling two glasses of water

“You’re not wrong… I’m gonna try something”

You took your phone out of your pocket, turned around, took a picture of your upper torso, and sent it to your girlfriend.

Her answer was quick, as you expected.

“She's getting ready” you informed the brunette

“How did you- I’ve been trying for twenty minutes!”

“Let’s say I gave her two good reasons to come”

You winked at your sister as she opened her mouth wide, understanding what you did.

“Y/n!”

“What? You told me to convince her!”

“Not like that! Really you-”

You both jumped when the phone rang. Unknown number.

Tara answered.

“Hello?”

Everything seemed alright, so you went into the living room to grab some chips, texting Amber about the situation.

When you came back, Tara looked panicked.

“What’s wrong?”

She put the phone on speaker and showed you a video of Amber brushing her hair in her room.

“Oh hello there. You didn’t tell me your sister was with you Tara.”

“How do you know I’m-”

“I know many things about you, Y/n. To answer your question, I suggested we played a little game. Stab movies trivia. You wouldn’t want your girlfriend to die, would you?”

“Wait no! I’ve never seen these movies and neither does Tara! Choose something else, It Follows, The Witch-”

“Warm up question, who is the protagonist of the Stab movies?” interrupted the person on the phone

“U-uh…”

“Sidney Prescott! It’s Sidney Prescott!”

“Good, you see you know the movies. First question-”

“Wait we got it right! It should count!”

Once again, he didn’t listen to you.

“Who wrote the original book that the Stab movies are based on?

“It’s um the chick from tv!” Tara said

“‘The chick from tv’ is not gonna cut it, Tara”

“I-it’s Gale Weathers! It’s Gale Weathers you motherfucker!” you said, trying to call 911 at the same time, hands shaking in fear

“Correct. Amber might live to see the sunrise. Unless you finish typing 911, then she has no chance of survival.”

You froze, finger hovering over the last 1.

“Question two: Who played the dumb bitch at the beginning of Stab 1, who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”

“Fuck you.” you spat

“Is that the answer you’re going with?”

Tara opened a new tab and Google the cast of Stab.

“A non-answer counts as a wrong answer. Time’s running out. Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock..”

“Heather Graham!” Tara suddenly said

“Correct. You pulled that one out. Now for the final question: who was the killer in Stab 1?”

Your sister answered quickly.

“I know this one, you fuck. It’s Billy Loomis! I got you asshole!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Tara, but that’s just not correct.”

“What…?”

“The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher. There are two killers in the original Stab.”

“No no we got it right! You said killer not killers!” you said

“Don’t play on words Y/n. I’m afraid someone’s got to die now.”

You felt your heart drop as a knife showed in the video. You didn’t think twice and grabbed a knife before running to the door.

“Y/n!”

Tara followed you, and just as you opened the door, let out a scream. A Ghostface was standing right in front of you. He tried to stab you, but Tara pushed the door on him, resulting in him just cutting your abdomen.

You help her close the door, punching him in the face so he backed up a little.

“Lock the door!”

“I’m trying!”

The blood on your hands made it difficult to press the buttons on your phone so you handed it to Tara.

Systems armed.

“The police are on their way asshole!” she yelled

All systems disarmed.

You looked at each other in fear. Tara pressed the button again.

Systems armed.

You backed up in the kitchen.

All systems disarmed.

Systems armed.

Then the landline rung again. You were the one who answered this time.

“Hello..?”

“Bonus question Y/n.”

“Please stop…”

You put him on speaker again.

“Do you think I could make it inside your house before you could rearm?”

That’s when you saw a dark silhouette behind your sister.

“Tara behind you!”

She didn’t have the time to move before the Ghostface grabbed her and sunk his blade into her stomach.

He threw her on the counter. You punched him as strongly as you could, but he was quick to grab your hair and slammed your head on the said counter. You felt your nose break on the spot.

You hissed in pain as he pushed Tara to the ground. She kicked him, only for him to break her leg right after. You took the nearest object, a coffee pot, and threw it on his head.

He grabbed your arm and twisted it harshly in the wrong direction, breaking it at the elbow, before sinking his knife in your stomach and pushing you on Tara.

You both screamed in pain and tried to reach the door. Ghostface stabbed you both at least 3 times, and when Tara turned on her back and held a hand in front of her, the blade passed through her hand.

You kicked him in his private parts, hoping it would hurt enough so you could escape before getting killed, but it only took him a second to stand up again.

You were less than thirty centimeters away from the door when he grabbed your feet and pulled back. You could see the police’s lights reflecting on his mask as he raised his knife, ready to kill you both.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

When you woke up, in a hospital room, you were surprised to be alive. You turned around a little to quickly, searching for your sister. She was in another bed beside you, already awake, in the phone with someone.

“Yeah okay of course…”

She turned to look at you and smiled a little when she saw you were awake. She took the phone away from her mouth.

“It’s mom. Do you to talk to her..?”

You shook your head. Tara pulled the phone closer to her.

“No Y/n’s not awake yet. …. Yeah I’ll tell her. …. Bye”

She hung up before turning back to you.

“How are we still alive..?” you asked in a weak voice

“I don’t know…” then, after a little pause “I texted Wes and the others, they should arrive soon”

Indeed, they arrived ten minutes later, all worried.

Amber rushed to you, concern written on her face, while the rest of them sat hesitantly around your beds, not wanting to hurt you by hugging you.

Your girlfriend wanted to take your hand, but noticed your broken arm and froze.

Before she could sit beside you, you asked her to help you move your bed next to Tara’s.

“It would be easier for you all to sit around us, and I’d like to be close to my beloved twin”

They helped moving the beds quickly, understanding your need to be close to Tara. Even though you were twins, you didn’t look much alike physically.

Amber sat on your bed next to you, her left hand making its way to your hair. You tilted your head slightly up so she could kiss you, which she did softly, before resting your head against her.

You talked a little, before your older sister came in, to your surprise, followed by a guy. Almost immediately, she knelt next to Tara and you.

"How are you feeling?" she asked

"You came.."

"Of course I came" then, turning to the guy "This is my boyfriend Richie”

You greeted him with a little smile, and so did Tara.

Sam introduced everyone to her boyfriend, before Amber spoke.

“Look guys, they are really tired. Maybe we should give them some space”

They all agreed and started to leave. Tara looked at you, seeking your approval to her silent question. You nodded slightly, understanding what she wanted.

“Not you Sam” she said

“We want you to stay” you continued

“Okay” Sam smiled a little “If it’s okay with you, I could sleep here tonight..”

“I’d really like that”

“Me too”

Everyone was gone now, except from Amber.

"Do have your extra inhaler?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine"

"Okay, be safe Tara…” Amber looked down at you “You too baby…”

She kissed you softly. Sam looked at you with wide eyes. Amber and you had been dating for three years now, but how could she know, as she’s been gone for five whole years?

“Call me if something’s wrong..”

“Will do”

“Okay, bye, I love you baby”

“I love you too”

You smiled at her before she excited the room, followed by Richie.

As soon as the door closed, you started to tear up. Both you and Tara.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

After Ghostface attacked you again at the hospital, you all decided it was time to leave Woodsboro.

"Can we at least stop at Amber's house? I have to say goodbye, tell her we're leaving..."

"Y/n, I'm sorry but it's just not safe"

"Why? You don't- you don't think she's the killer, right?"

"... I don't know..."

You looked at her in disbelief.

“She would never do that..!”

"Guys I don't find my inhaler..." Tara suddenly said

"Are you sure? I think I saw it before we left the hospital.."

You helped her search in her bag with your valid arm.

"I have an extra one at Amber's. We have to go pick it up, her house’s on the way”

Richie and Sam argued for a while, before he gave up and drove to your girlfriend's house.

"Welcome to act 3"

You were too shocked to say anything. Your girlfriend just shot Liv in the head and revealed herself as the killer in front of everyone.

They all started to run away, and you were about to do the same, but Amber grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty room.

"Baby I- I'm sorry for everything... for lying to you, for hurting Tara, everything... He forced me to.. He said he would kill you if I said anything..!"

"'He'? Who? I don't understand I-"

"Richie! He's the other one..!"

She started to mumble nonsenses, completely panicked.

"Amber stop I don't understand anything- Amber! My love!"

You grabbed her face and kissed her to shut her up. When you pulled away, she looked at you, confused.

"You don't hate me...?"

"I should. I really should. My sister almost died twice, I almost died too, our friends.. our friends died. But I don't. I don't hate you. I am still madly, deeply, completely in love with you"

You felt her relax almost instantly at your words. She wrapped her arms around your waist and hugged you tight. You ran a hand through her hair.

"It wasn't me... The Ghostface that attacked you at your house.. It wasn't me.. I wouldn't have laid a hand on you.. I swear.."

"It's okay my love, you're okay..."

You pulled away after a moment. Amber handed you her knife and took her gun in hand. Before you could take the weapon, she was hit from behind by a crutch. She was so surprised she fell on the floor.

You didn't expect Tara to use her crutch this way, so it took you a second to react.

"Tara stop! It's not her fault- Tara!"

You grabbed her waist and dragged her away from Amber.

"What are you doing? Let me go Y/n! She tried to kill us! Twice!"

"I know. But it's not her fault I-"

"Not her fault? Y/n I know you love her but you can't find her excuses! She literally killed Liv in front of us!"

A scream came from the kitchen.

"Can we talk about this later? We need to get rid of Richie before someone else dies. I'll tell you everything after, but I need you to trust me for now"

She stopped struggling against you and nodded slowly. You let go of her and walked to Amber, taking the gun from her.

"Stay here, I don't want you to get hurt more"

"No I'm coming with you."

"No you're not. Call the police and hide. Please.."

She hesitated, but finally agreed and went upstairs with her phone.

You went to the kitchen, where Richie threatened Sam, Gale and Sidney. They must've arrive when you were talking with Amber.

"What took you so long?" he asked his accomplice

"They fought back"

Amber pushed you in a corner of the room, not too hard, scared she might hurt you. He frowned a bit. Shit, you thought, he's understanding.

You reached for the gun you hid behind your back, but Richie was faster than you and shot you in the leg. You dropped the gun and fell on the floor, holding your thigh.

Right after, Sam threw herself at Richie, who tried to shoot her, but only managed to shoot you again, in the stomach this time. Sam bit his arm and ran away from the kitchen, before he followed her.

Sidney grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed Amber when she tried to get close to you.

The next minutes were a little confused. You were bleeding on the floor, trying to recover, when you heard Amber screaming. That brought you back to reality pretty quickly.

You got up painfully, and saw Gale, gun in hand, ready to shoot Amber.

"No no no! I'm sorry about Dewey!"

"Fuck you."

Just as she was about to pull the trigger, you stepped in front of your girlfriend.

"What the hell? Move!" Gale said, pissed

Sam entered the room with Tara and looked at you with wide eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Sam-"

"Y/n you can't protect her this time! We all saw her!"

"I know but-"

"Move. The fuck. Out of my way." Gale interrupted you

"She's right, move Y/n." Sam added

"Can you listen to me for a second?!"

No one said a word, and Gale put the gun down with a sigh.

"Thank you." you stayed in front of Amber, just in case, and continued "I know she's one of the killers. But, he manipulated her. He groomed her into doing this. She's a victim too."

"She told you that?"

"Yes. And I believe her."

"Y/n for fuck's sake! She's lying again."

"I know her better than you. All of you. We've been dating for three years, and not once she lied to me. Not once she hurt me. Not once she raised her voice at me. Not once. So yes, I believe her. I love her. You have to trust me. Please..."

You were not one to trust someone without a good reason, and your sisters knew it. They looked at each other, and Sam sighed.

"I trust you"

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Eight months after these events, everything seemed back to normal. Your sisters didn't hate you for protecting Amber, even though she killed people. They even said they would try to forgive her.

When Amber knocked at your door that night, Tara was the one who opened the door.

"Y/n! Amber's here!"

When you arrived downstairs, you saw them hug. That made you happy.

"Where are you guys going?" Tara asked

"Can't tell you, it's a surprise"

Amber winked at you playfully when she saw you arriving.

"You're beautiful tonight baby..."

"You too..."

She was wearing a black dress with flowers on it, and a leather jacket on top of it.

"Have fun" Tara said, smiling at you

"We will"

You took Amber's hand before going out of the house.

"So, where are we going?" you asked

"Like I said, it's a surprise, so I'm not telling you"

"Oh come on!"

You pouted, but she didn't give up.

You walked for twenty minutes, before arriving to a house you had never seen before.

"What's that?"

"You'll see in a minute"

You climbed on the roof, where a telescope and picnic were waiting for you.

"Happy anniversary baby"

You had always dreamed of watching the stars with her. You talked about it many times, but never actually did it. It was the best gift she could've found.

She led you to the blanket on the floor, making you sit on her lap. You were quick to crash your lips on hers in a feverish kiss, locking your arms around her neck, her hands on your waist.

You made out for a while, until your lips were all red and swollen. Her lipstick was all messed up, and so was yours. You both laughed and tried to take the makeup off your faces.

After a minute, you reached in your pocket and took a little box out of it, which you handed to Amber.

She opened it, curious. It was a little black box, with a red rose on top of it, kept behind a plastic glass. There was a little drawer under it, with a necklace in it, with a heart shaped pendant.

"Baby..."

"Look in the little orb in the middle of the heart"

She was a little confused but did as you told. She gasped as she saw it. Inside the orb, "I love you" was written in 100 languages.

"Happy anniversary my love"

[hoe4sports]

“Sleep is a golden chain that links our bodies and souls together for eternity.”

Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

A/N: No triggers. Mentions of sex. You are already a couple. The story starts with heading to Lucy’s birthday.

The hot steaming rainshower was making the dimmed bathroom damp and foggy, it felt like a rainforest. You loved it. Showers were amazing. They were soothing and comforting. But they could also be exciting and fun. You were snapped violently out of your thoughts as Lucy banged on your door “Are you gonna be ready today or next year? I cannot be late to my own birthday dinner pretty girl!” Lucy teased you from the other side of the door as you got out of the shower. She had asked you last minute if she could catch a ride with you as she was planning to drink and didn’t have a driver. Truth is that you didnt either have a driver, but apperantly you were more capable than her to get a taxi. “Yea yea, it always important to be fashionably late babe!” You snapped back grinning to myself. You felt so blessed that you had made such close friends after moving across the continent. Lucy was like your sister, and Ingrid was my bestie. My ride or die.

You got yourself dry quickly and pulled on your outfit in no time. You got your hair curled loosely, and did some quick bronzy makeup with a cute subtle pink lip. You felt good about yourself and admired yourself in the mirror for one second. You had your white champagne satin dress on, but you had to use your white hoka’s. You tore my acl as a 18 year old, and you will never fully recover. That’s why you are not taking any risks. 

You swung the door open and did a dramatic pose for Lucy. “Oh Luce darling, tell me, am a looking au naturell?” I said with a dramatic french accent. “Luckily your outfit is better than your French” lucy chuckled. She was looking just as good as she always was. Pants that were just the right amount of tight to showcase her ass, and a short sleeve shirt that complimented her biceps beautifully. She often changed between pulling off masculine and feminine looks, and she knew damn well that she made it work for her. 

The pair of you both did a quick 3 shots of tequila before heading giggling out of the apartment. As you got out of the complex and found our taxi driver, Lucy laid her arm around you. It was an older man who turned up the music for us, and he was definitely in the mood for a party. You made sure to tip him well, and he told me that he was driving until 3 so you could give him a ring if anyone needed to get home safely. You appreciated the help, and took out the information card that he held out. “Ricardo Antonio Juereze Guapa” you confidently spoke out, the old man smiled and applauded your Spanish accent before waving goodbye. “Let’s do this!” You squiled as you pulled Lucy with you towards the restaurant. The vibes were immaculate, electric even. The food was incredible! And the drinks? Perhaps a tad bit too strong.. 

As you shoved down the last piece of my sorbet, you looked over at Caroline. She had showed up, but was being her usual quiet self. You raised an eyebrow towards her, and she shrugged. You motioned for her to meet you in the bathroom of the restaurant as you excused yourself to the other girls. You got to the bathroom, and did a quick sweep to make sure that there were nobody there. Then Caroline stepped in. She was wearing shorts, but not the feminine kind. She was also wearing a white t-shirt, almost see through. I could tell how they shaped around her boobs, and they revealed her white sportsbra from Calvin Klein. “Hello pretty girl” you said as she entered the bathroom and she blushed. “Hey” she smiled nervously, and you touched her cheek as she pulled closer. “You good?” You asked as she played with her hair. She gave a small nod, and you took it upon yourself to fix her hair. She stood there dumbfounded while I was going all hairstylist on her beautiful brown locks as I smacked my lips together and presented proudly “Voila!” You announced as you pulled back. She blushed again.

 “I was thinking of going home..” she mumbled as her face automatically went back to her usual serious self. “Why?” You blurred out as if you almost interrupted her. “Well, I guess this really isn’t my thing, you know?” She motioned towards the door which let through sounds of chatter and music. You nodded to her, and placed your hand on her cheek again. “That’s fair, it’s not for everyone. If you leave, I’ll definitely miss you. Such a sight for sore eyes.” You said as you smiled, clearly a bit intoxicated. She shrugged, once again, out of words. You giggled softly as you playfully brushed some of her hair from her face to behind her ear. “So dedicated and hardworking” you started as she blushed and smiled to the ground. You put your. pointing finger on her chin, and tilted her face upwards. You leaned in towards her cheek, and breathed out. “Stay, please” as your pink lips made contact with her blushed cheek and you quietly walked out.

You sat down at the table with the other girls thinking that you got away with your little act. Lucy and Ingrid made whistling noises and you pretended to be annoyed by rolling your eyes at them. After a few minutes the girls stopped the teasing and Caroline slowly eased back to the table. “Alright, Bronze! It’s your birthday, where do you wanna go next?” You announced to the table. Lucy’s face spread out in a huge grin. “Let’s go to Tito’s beach club!” Lucy responded, and with that everyone was fast up from their chairs. Some were more drunk then others, like Mapi, she was practically leaning onto Ingrid to use her as her personal walking stick. It caused you to chuck at the sight of the pair, and as they passed you teased Ingrid, “Looks like someone got a good relationship with the bartender” you sang as she rolled her eyes back at me. You made sure to wait until all the girls had gotten up from the table, just to make sure that nobody forgot any purses, phones or wallets. As you finished checking, you could see Caroline waiting by the end of the table. Your lips formed a smile, and you admired Caroline. “Waiting for me Graham?” You said as you got closer to her, our height differences once again becoming very obvious. She looked down on you as she flashed one of her shy smiles. You had talked to Ingrid previously, who told me that Caroline hadn’t ever been in a relationship. That she was too focused on work and becoming better every day. You, on the other hand, you saw straight through her act. You thought she was beautiful. You loved her physique, her face and her long neck. Plenty of space for.. Something, let’s just keep it at that. 

“Whenever you are ready” she spoke as you grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the restaurant towards the other girls. The bar was only a few blocks away, and the girls were definitely not holding back tonight. We walked together to the bar, and the girls sang a million happy birthday songs in different languages. Caroline walked in silence for the short trip, but she was walking in silence next to you. You were talking to Ingrid, as she supported Mapi towards the bar. “Okay Maps, sober up or you will be tied to a pole outside to wait like a puppy.” You announced, and just like that; Mapi pulled herself together and sobered up as if she hadn’t seen alcohol in forever. We all entered in a line as the security checked us out. When Mapi passed, you could see one of the security guards raise their eyebrows, but he waived her through. We found a table consisting of high bar chairs, and we all grouped up around it. The music was beaming and there somehow wasn’t too many people inside yet. You went to order some drinks to the table, and when you came back there were no available chairs. However, that left you with one option. You walked to where Caroline was seated. The barchair making her even taller. You blinked my lashes in front of her, and smiled. “Care if I stand in front of you?” You asked as her eyes lit up. “Uhm, no no, sure, go ahead.” She stuttered as she didn’t want to seem to excited. You just smiled, she was so cute when she was visibly nervous. You pushed myself in between her legs and leaned your hips towards her chair. Her breath was becoming heavier by the second, and her hands were slowly becoming more damp. You leaned your back towards her body, and she softened up in her posture. You could feel her hands slowly try to wrap around my waist, and you decided to just let her do it at her own pace. As the night went on, the  drinks were flowing rapidly. Caroline never moved, she was guarding you like you were a kitten. It was cute, her hands got more and more comfortable as the night went on. It almost felt as if she was warming up to you. Caroline wasn’t really someone that liked to share her private life, she liked her privacy and people say that’s how she has been since she was young. 

As the night went on, your eyelids were getting heavier by the second. You feel like it’s getting late, so you decide to check your trusty sports watch. 02.45?! oh my, you were expected to be on a meeting tomorrow so you quickly texted the taxi driver from earlier that night praying that he hadn’t went home early. He confirmed the address, and said that he would be there in 5 minutes  as he was already close by. “I’m gonna have to make it an early night.” You announced and you could see the disappointment in Caroline’s eyes. You had probably gotten 6 or 7 drinks down by now, but like the true Norwegian you were it didn’t bother you too much. Multiple of them being my favourite drink, strawberry daiquiri. Not a very lesbian like drink eh? 

One of the things with Caroline was that she had never really openly announced that she was lesbian or even bisexual. Naturally of course, as she was very private. People only knew what she wanted them to know about her. You turned your face towards Caroline, as a was already leaning between her tights. She looked at you with her big greyish blue eyes, and it melted you completely. You leaned in and hugged her tight. As expected she stiffened up like a stick, but after a few seconds she folded her long arms around you relaxing into the hug. Your face was the same height as her upper abdomen, and you were hugging her as best as you could. You looked up at her, and she looked down at me. You were busy admiring her when you suddenly blurred out, “Vil du dra sammen med meg?”. Oh my. You thought to yourself that this was a dumb decision. “Jeg mente egentlig å si; Vil du sitte på?” You corrected and tried to play it of cool. Luckily, you spoke Norwegian so that nobody but her could understand. Well, including Ingrid. «Ja» Caroline stuttered nervously “Gjerne”. She completed the sentence, and you grabbed her hand. “Alright Luce, girls, take it easy tonight. Drink water. And I’ll see you tomorrow” you announced as I dragged Caroline with me. You could hear the shock in the room when you dragged Caroline out towards the taxi. Mapi mumbled “What did she say to her?” And Ingrid shrugged “I don’t know Norwegian”. Mapi shot her an annoyed look, knowing very well that Ingrid’s first language was Norwegian.

The taxi ride was somewhat awkward as the taxi driver was trying to brighten the silence. You were just far too tired to even think, and you could feel the buzzing from the alcohol. Caroline on the other had, didn’t have a drink. She said something about it ruining her restitution, and you naturally wanted to respect her. It was a Caroline thing to say, nobody took care of her physical health like Caroline. As the ride went on, you spotted your building. It was towering over the smaller buildings around it. You pulled out your purse to pay, and to tip the driver. But as you were busy fumbling with your purse, desperately trying to find the wallet, Caroline had already paid. “Ai!! Ayos mio! Mucho gracias!! The old man yelled ecstatically. You looked at Caroline who just shrugged. He turned towards you, and smiled as wide as he could. “This is a good woman! You keep her.” He spat out as Caroline blushed. “Thank you again, and good night” you smiled as you got out of the taxi.  Us both got out and stood on the sidewalk as the taxi driver rolled down his window. “When you need a driver, I drive you! Just message me. Buenos noches, ladies.” he sang out with the biggest smile on his face. 

“What did you pay him?” You asked as he drove away. Caroline shrugged her shoulders, she was in fact a very humble person. “What he needed to be paid?” She tried, and you shook your head as you smiled. She had tipped well, and I knew because she wouldn’t let me see the receipt. “Do you wanna come up?” You asked her to break the awkward silence. “We can sit on my balcony, and have a some water or whatever you let yourself consume.” You joked, and she smiled a shy smile. “Uh. That would be nice.” She replied with eagerness in her voice. We walked towards the entrance, and you tapped the code on the little tab to be let in. In silence, we walked to the elevator and we took the elevator up to my floor.

“Apartment 1921” you said as you once again tapped in my code. “The code is 3101, feel free to use it if you want.” You said as you were focused on tapping in the code. It wasn’t easy as you felt a bit tipsy. The pair of you entered the apartment and Caroline stood there in shock taking it all in. “Wo-“ she started before you cut her off “it’s not my apartment, it’s the clubs. I just rent it, I could never in a million years buy something like this” you said ironically and laughed while you got two champagne glasses ready.

You pulled out a Norwegian drink, Farris, on the counter. My grandparents had been there two weeks prior, and they brought you all your favourite snacks. You poured the drink into the glasses. “Here you go” you said as you reached it towards Caroline that was still admiring the apartment and the views. She turned towards me and said “I don’t drink alcohol” she started as you rolled your eyes. “Babe, it’s not alcohol! It’s Farris!” Her eyes widened. You were not too sure if it was because of the Farris part or because of the babe part. You had a habit of calling everyone babe, so you raised an eyebrow.  «Oh, thats actually my favourite drink” she said as she took a sip. You giggled, and suddenly you came to the realisation that you had watermelon in the fridge. Fresh juicy watermelon! You did a turnaround and ripped the fridge open. You pulled out the bowl you had previously cut up watermelon in triangles and walked towards the balcony. Caroline willingly followed towards the stunning views. You sat down in one of chairs you had placed outside, and she slowly sat down beside me in awe of the sunset. “Here” you said, “Take some watermelon, it’s very hydrating.” You giggled as you pushed the box towards her. She smirked and grabbed a piece. “Sounds like something I would say.” She said as she took a bite. Watermelon juice went flying everywhere! In her lap; her t-shirt and even at her socks. You giggled hysterically. You loved to laugh when you were sober, but when you were drunk? Oh boy, you giggled over anything. 

“Ah, faen” Caroline swore under her breath as you giggled while she was trying to run the pink liquid off her white top. Her face was slowly turning red enough to match the watermelon. “I should get home..” Caroline reluctantly said, and as if you had just found the cure for cancer; you stood up and sprinted towards the walk in closet. You grabbed your favourite lululemon hoodie considering it was the only piece of clothing that were oversized enough to fit her tall body. “Here” you proudly said as she looked up. Her eyes widened when she saw the color of the item. “What!” You said “get the stick out of your ass” She shook her head and sighted. “I really should get going home” she mumbled as she poured down the last drop of Farris and stood up. “Oh really” you teased, “Do you have a secret girlfriend at home that is expecting you?”. Her face went red, and her eyes once again resembled an owl’s eyes.

You mentally slapped yourself for saying it, and you instantly knew that you would regret this as soon as you sobered up tomorrow morning. “I-I” she said as she mumbled the last part of the sentence. “You what?” You asked nervously, could it be that she actually had a girlfriend? Or even worse, that she was only into men? You wanted to become one with the gorgeous wooden floor in the apartment. Your train of thoughts were interrupted by her clearing up her voice. “I’ve never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or anyone. I don’t really think I would like a boyfriend either as I don’t like men..” she said as you felt about 500 kg lighter. That cleared things up pretty quickly. “Never?” You asked curiously, “how come?”. She sighted again and looked more at the floors than on you. “I guess nobody has ever, uhm, you know, found me attractive or something.” she said as she swallowed for a second, visibly struggling with her words. You both went quiet for a while, and the silence was broken by your yawn. “Do you maybe wanna sleep over?” You suggested to see if she was interested. She nodded and you showed her the bedroom and the rest of the apartment. “I’m just gonna shower quickly, so I don’t smell of vodka.” You said as you headed for the shower. You had so many questions, so many things you were wondering about and so many thoughts. You were definitely a thinker, but you were also good with communication. Caroline was not the best with sharing her feelings and thoughts. Usually, the things she said sounded like she had planned to say it, especially on practice. You were thinking about how she had made friends, as you knew she was pretty close with Alexia, Ingrid and Mapi.

 My thoughts were rambling as you stood in the hot shower for what felt like ages. You popped on pyjamas as you wanted to respect her and not be naked. The pj’s was a two piece set with a shorts and a tank top with spaghetti straps. It was a sheer pink color with lace on the edges, and it was somewhat revealing. You dried your hair with a towel, leaving it to air dry while you did a quick round of skincare. Skincare was so important to you, it made you feel good and you believe that if you feel good, you look good. You stepped out of the bathroom, and walked into my bedroom expecting to see Caroline in my bed. The shock on my face when you couldn’t find her, was rather disturbing. You looked around the room and anxiety started to boil. Had you done something? Did she get the wrong signal? Was she angry? Your thoughts were cut off by a cough. A rather loud raspy cough which scared you shitless. All your senses activated, and you grabbed a hanger that you had on the hook. You slowly walked into the living room to find nobody. You checked out the bathrooms and the kitchen, even the walk in closet and the balcony. Nothing! Perhaps it was just a neighbour? Yoy settled on that explanation and shuffled to the bedroom. 

As yoy walked to the bedroom, you wanted to grab myself an extra pillow from the guest room because you were not a fan of alcoholic reflux. You walked into the guest room and there she was in all her glory. “What on earth are you doing?” You asked her as you leaned towards the doorframe. She had a confused look on her face and tilted her head as she said “wasn’t I invited to sleep over?” You giggled and made yourself a mental note to remember that she could not take a hint even if it was handed to her. “Yes, in my bed pretty girl” you said as you smiled and she suddenly became red again. “Oh, it’s just that.. I have never..I’m not into..” she started. You were just as confused as her about where this conversation was headed.

 It suddenly clicked in your mind. She thought that you were trying to one night stand her! “This is not a one night stand”you said as you smiled and moved towards her. “I’m just trying to get to know you better, okay? I’m taking it slow with you.” You assured her as you reached your hand out. She took the blanket off her and grabbed your hand as she followed you to the main bedroom. “Besides I said, in this room; there is a big ass flatscreen” you said as she entered. She looked at it and nodded. You hopped into bed, and girl. She had never cuddled anyone in her entire life. She slid into the bed and was as stiff as a stick. “Do you need help?” You asked her and she nodded desperately. “Alright, this is how you cuddle. The big spoon is the one holding the other person. The small spoon is the one being held.” You stated as you turned yourself around. She was laying flat on her back, so you curled up next to her on your side. “Then, you move this arm and hold in here” you stated as you positioned yourself and her. You laid your head on her chest and held around her with your other arm as you were almost laying on your belly. She adjusted, and let out a releaved breath. “I think I like this” she said, and you lifted your head as you looked up at her. You smiled, and continued “this is cuddling. You can stroke my back, play with my hair, kiss the top of my head or just lay still.” You said as you yawned. She softened once again, and started breathing heavily. Then you both drifted off to sleep. 

[pricelessemotion]

Labyrinth | Javy "Coyote" Machado

pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x fem!reader (prev Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader)

summary: [4k] Jake may be gone, but Javy isn't. The two of you navigate your lives and your grief. Together.

warnings: jake is dead, RIP jake, grief and mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, sickfic moment, friends to roommates to ...?

a/n: coming out of my writer cave to post a tgm fic that nobody asked for. idk why I became obsessed with the idea of jake's widow!reader falling in love w javy but here we are! enjoy and lmk what you think <3

read on ao3 | navigation

Lieutenant Commander Jacob Michael Seresin died on a Tuesday morning. At least that’s what they tell you, you don’t remember much of the days and weeks surrounding his death. 

You flip the funeral card in your hand, over and over and over again. No expense was spared. It’s textured cardstock with fancy but easily legible cursive font. It reminds you of your wedding invitations. The back is a picture of him in his dress whites, face unsmiling. The same dress whites he’s going to be buried in. 

Lieutenant Commander Jacob Michael Seresin was called home

Funeral to take place at Graham's Memorial Home 

Reception to follow 

Called home. It’s such an interesting phrase. It suggests that he’s meant to be wherever he is now. That the house that you bought together, the plans that you made were all just a waiting room until Saint Peter called his name. 

You never considered yourself particularly religious. Jake, being born and raised in Texas, was a god-fearing Christian man. He believed in heaven and an afterlife. You’ve always been on the fence.

The day of the funeral, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. You want to scream and laugh at the same time but the only sound that escapes your mouth is a strangled gasp that has Javy taking you into his arms. It had rained on your wedding day. Poured would be a more accurate description. The officiant said he had never seen that big of a meteorological turnaround in all of his forty years of weddings. Due to California existing in a near-constant state of drought, there simply wasn’t the infrastructure in place to support the torrential downpour. Most of your guests had been left stranded in other states, their flights being put on a constant loop of rescheduling and then cancellation. 

You thought it was a sign. An omen. Now you wonder if maybe it was. 

Jake had simply shaken his head and laughed. He was never one for superstitions. It’s what made him a good pilot. He relied on skill and instinct. He said that there was no way in hell that a little water was going to get in the way of him marrying the love of his life. 

His mother lightly smacked him on the bicep for using such language in a house of god, before subsequently melting and muttering how she must’ve done something right. 

You think that this unnatural weather must’ve been his doing. It had been overcast and depressing all week. Or at least, as far as you could tell from your brief moments of lucidity before descending back into a fugue state. You know that he always hated the days that were few and far between when the weather would be too bad for him to properly run drills or train new recruits. 

You loved the man more than anything. He always reminded you of the sky, the way he took you to heights that you had never even imagined before. Still, despite the thrill and the rush of adrenaline, all you could think about was the fear of falling. 

Husbands and children have been left back in Texas. Jake’s mom and sisters have taken over the house. There’s not a dish left unwashed nor a basket of laundry left unfolded. You've eaten more casserole in the last week than you have before in your entire life. The fridge is filled to the brim with tin foiled pans that people will probably want back but won't bother asking for if they don't. Despite the array of choices, they all taste the same. Ashen and tasteless is the I’m-sorry-your-husband-died special. 

The house is more lively than it usually is, with four Seresin women milling around. You see him in them. In the quirk of their mouths, the tilt of their heads when they’re thinking about something, the hard line of their jaws when they hold back their tears. You can barely look his mother in the eyes because they’re his. 

They try to take you everywhere with them. Trips to the grocery store and walks around the neighborhood are treated as milestones when you spend most days unable to get out of bed. 

On one of the drives, you can’t remember which one or even where you were heading to they all seem to blur together in the end, you passed by a car wash. Jake would usually handle all the car stuff himself, but he told you to go here when he was on deployment because it was the only place that didn’t upcharge for ridiculous shit. They have one of those inflatable tube men outside. Waiting at the intersection for the light to turn green, you’re stuck looking at him. 

When they do finally leave, it's with little fanfare. They remind you of the food in the fridge and the local bereavement group they found. Kisses on cheeks are exchanged and you stand like one of those inflatable tube men at the end of the driveway, mechanically waving goodbye. 

Once the cars are gone from view, it’s like someone’s turned off the fan that’s kept you upright. You crumple to the ground.

–

Javy tries his best to decode the text that you sent him while his phone had been in his gym locker. The series of texts seems to get more and more incoherent as time went on. He was used to this by now. He had told you that you could talk to him about your grief at any time and that he would always be there for you. 

Which is how Javy comes to find you here. 

You’re on the ground outside. Green California grass caresses your fingertips, despite the near-constant state of drought. You know you came out here to look at the stars but closed your eyes when you could feel the Earth spinning. 

You feel like the two-headed calf because there are twice as many stars as usual. The Earth spins at a rate of 1,000 miles per hour. You swear, right there in the grass, that you can feel every single mile. You’re holding on for dear life. 

“Jake said that when he was a kid, he used to believe that stars were actually holes in the sky. The white light that came through was Heaven. He used to sit on the grass and look up and dig his fingers into the dirt. ‘Said he was scared that if he let go he’d float away.” 

Javy only hums in response. Slowly, his left hand nudges your right one. The warmth of his palm covers you and despite yourself, despite marring and ripping apart the beautiful meticulously cared-for lawn, you let go. 

When your hand rises to meet his, it’s not without a few casualties. Blades of grass are plucked from the ground making snapping sounds like muffled guitar strings. It’s the saddest sound you’ve ever heard.

–

“I’m thinking about selling the house.” 

The words hang in dead air. There’s a slight pause in Javy’s movements. From behind, you can see the muscles beneath his flannel tighten up before they relax again. He resumes stirring his coffee, the spoon hitting the sides of the ceramic mug with muted ting ting ting sounds. 

The mug itself is UT Austin merch from many moons ago. It’s Jake’s favorite. Or at least, it was Jake’s favorite. The mug used to remind you of quiet Sunday mornings and waffles for two. Now it just reminds you that he drank from it and put it in the dishwasher, thinking that he would get another Sunday, another cup of coffee.

You’re not mad at all that Javy is using it. On the contrary, you’re glad that the mug is being used for its purpose. That it’s not being memorialized and thus, rendered functionally useless. It drove you crazy to see it sitting in the cabinet collecting dust, but you refused to be the one to drink from it. It’s good that this memory of him is momentary and not a monument. 

Javy takes a long sip from his mug, cradling it in both hands as he leans into the kitchen counter behind him. “When you say thinking what do you mean?” 

Javy knows you too well. He knows that if you’re telling him about it, then it’s pretty much already decided. You’ve gone about every major decision in your life this way. You research and refine results until you’re sure that the way you’ve chosen is the only way forward. It’s how you decided that being with Jake was worth the risk of losing him. 

You never said that it was a foolproof system, just that it was the system you’ve always used. 

“I mean that I’ve already gotten the house appraised and have been talking to a realtor. She thinks we could list it and sell it before the year is out.” 

Javy blows out a breath, puffing out his full lips. He swirls his coffee cup once, twice before taking a sip and asking, “Are you sure that this is what you want?” 

“Yes, I’m sure. I can’t–” Your voice thickens until it breaks, the words brittle. I can’t keep living in a haunted house.

Javy nods, taking another sip before setting the cup down on the counter and saying the last thing you expected, “Move in with me.”

–

Moving out occurs with very little fuss. The other daggers drop in and out, taping boxes and dropping them off at Goodwill per your request, but everyone seems to be keeping a respectful, yet unnecessary distance. 

Before you even touched a single cardboard box, Javy went from room to room and photographed everything. From the arrangement of the magnets on the fridge to the clutter on your bedside table. He insisted that one day these would be memories to hold back on. That it wasn’t the house's fault that it was haunted. That sometimes ghosts don’t have to haunt you. 

You’re beyond the point of sentimentality anymore. If you were, you’d still be catatonic on the couch, refusing to sleep in the bedroom you once shared with your husband. Everything is objective. Every dish is just a dish and not the first real set of glassware that you bought for the house after eating off of paper plates when the movers accidentally dropped the boxed marked kitchen FRAGILE off the side of the truck. 

You’re glad that all of the Christmas ornaments are still boxed up in the attic. There’s one in particular that you loved. The one that you put on the tree first every single Christmas. It was the ornament Jake got you when you first got together. A silly little reindeer.

You’ve mostly gotten everything out of the kitchen now. The shelves are bare and now you will once again have to resort to paper plates and plastic forks until this move is over. You haven’t seen your new roommate–God, it’s still weird to think of him like that–in a while so you tentatively call out his name. 

“Javy?” Your voice is rough from hours of speechless focus. It cracks and breaks the silence of the house like a pebble on a windshield. 

He doesn’t respond. You call out again, removing your gloves and moving towards the staircase. The door to Jake’s office is left ajar. Javy volunteered to pack up the room and you let him without a fight. Jake didn’t spend too much time in his office when he was home. Honestly, you think it might’ve saddened you more to see his legal pads and his sticky notes with reminders that he’ll never get the chance to forget. 

You knock, easing the door open and softly calling out Javy’s name before you stop. There he is in the middle of the floor, head to his knees, back shaking with silent sobs. You crumble immediately. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel his wet face causing the fabric to stick to your collarbone. You don’t care. 

It occurs to you that the roles have finally been reversed. All these months, you’ve been so grateful for Javy’s steadiness. His immovability. You thought his lack of tears had been because he was processing his emotions in a way that was different than yours. You thought maybe he was better at compartmentalization than you were. And maybe that was true. 

You look around the room, hoping to find the catalyst for what caused this breakdown. Maybe there was a picture from the good old days, or an old card that Jake always meant to give him but never remembered to. But looking around, you come up empty. That’s when you realize that it’s not one single thing that set Javy off. It’s everything. It’s the dust on the keyboard. It’s the stale air. It’s the way the calendar on the wall has an X drawn through every day and then stopped in the middle of June. It’s the World War II book that has a bookmark placed so close to the end, you wonder if Jake was leaving the epilogue until after he came home from work. 

It’s been hours since Javy made his way up here. The two boxes he brought with him sit flat behind the door. They haven’t even been folded out. 

So you just sit there with him, rocking slightly back and forth. This continues until he leans back and spreads himself out on the carpet, not unlike the way you did all those months ago in the backyard. You burrow into his side, your ear pressed to his heart, paying attention to the furious tempo. You lay there until the hiccups in his breathing cease and the rise and fall of his chest is as rhythmic as waves crashing on the San Diego shore.

–

“You can lay down, y’know? This is your couch after all.” The gray L-shaped sectional is more than big enough for both you and Javy, who has been trying and failing to stay upright for the past twenty minutes. 

“First of all, this is our couch. Second of all, I will lay down thank you for offering.” 

He starts out perpendicular to you. His large frame takes up most of the sofa cushions. Though it can’t be comfortable for an extended time, he stays propped up on his elbow, making jokes about whatever's on TV. His exhaustion starts to take over and his elbow slips, one, two, three times. He always catches himself before his head drops too far, agile and responsive even when fighting sleep. 

You know you can’t outright offer it to him, so you go for the next best thing. Leaning back, you shift your position until your blanketed thigh is touching his bicep. From there, it’s only a matter of time until Javy gives in to the sands of time and his head falls into your lap. 

You’ve missed this, you realize. There are a lot of things that you miss about Jake, specifically. But this, the simple act of being close to someone. The simple choice to be there for someone else to lean on. Joy and guilt are like lightning and thunder. When one comes the other will soon follow. 

You think about this from the outside looking in. Javy coming home, kissing your cheek, telling you about his day. Him cooking dinner while you do laundry. You doing the dishes while he does the crossword. The two of you, lying down on the couch after a long day and watching television together. The scene is exceedingly domestic in a way that makes your cheeks tingle and your chest ache.

Your left thumb instinctually goes to caress the base of your ring finger, only to come up empty. Your heart drops to your stomach. Then, you remember. You always take off your rings when doing the dishes. It was best practice, to make sure that the delicate gems wouldn’t get unnecessarily tarnished. You’d never once forgotten to put them back on, though. 

You linger on the absence of the rings and the presence of the man sleeping soundly right beside you. Joy and guilt. Lightning and thunder.

–

There are large hands around your waist. Lips flush against the skin of your neck, murmuring and muttering words of praise and astonishment. Those hands slip lower and lower, rucking up the hem of your nightgown to your waist. Calloused fingertips brush the junction of your thighs and you feel heat licking up your center. 

Look at me while you come for me, baby. 

You do look up, mind overtaken by heat and lust and longing. Your breath catches in your throat. You know this jawline. You know these lips. You know that voice. 

Say my name. 

Your mouth goes to form the word but you lose yourself in huffs of breath and twisted sheets. You wake, just as you hit your peak. The sound that was so difficult to make in your dream state emerges from your mouth, watery and wanting. 

Javy.

–

You spend the next three days locked in your room. You take all your meals to go, even though you can see the disappointment on Javy’s face every time you do. Disappointment you only see when you are confident that you can look at him without bursting into flames. The opportunity is few and far between these days. He’s always in the background. Asking if you’d like to accompany him to the store or go on a hike. Your answer is always the same. 

Your forced solitude only lasts for another two days before Javy politely knocks on your door and enters your room. You mumble out a lackluster greeting barely looking up from your laptop or your desk. There’s a water stain near your left wrist, a circular ring that matches the bottom of your favorite mug. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

Maybe you should get a coaster. Civilized people used coasters, didn’t they? Civilized people used coasters and went hiking and did not have sex dreams about their dead husband’s best friend. 

Javy says your name. It sounds weary. Like he’s approaching a wounded deer, hoping that she’ll let him near her before she goes running off into the forest to bleed out alone. 

He sighs and sits on the edge of your bed, keeping a respectful distance. The mattress dips under the weight of him. 

“Is it because we’re living together now? Do you—“ He clears his throat and suddenly, despite being well over six feet tall, he looks small. “Do you regret moving in together?” 

You realize now that you’re not the deer. Javy is. He was living a fine and peaceful existence before you showed up with a shotgun and a need for flesh. 

His question is tentative. Bleeding out in a forest alone doesn’t sound so bad, all things considered. 

“No!” You blurt out your answer so fast it almost startles you. You take a moment, “No that’s not it at all.” 

“Then what is it? Is it something I did?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“It’s just–God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this–I had a dream.” 

“Like a nightmare? You know you can talk to me about those–”

“Not that kind of dream.” Javy had been helpful with nightmares in the past. He knew how to calm you down, especially when you realized that waking up didn’t necessarily mean that the nightmare was over. 

He sits there, earnest and sympathetic and terribly understanding in a way that you don’t deserve and don’t know if you can handle right now.

“It was a sex dream.” You breathe out, cheeks hot and fists rumpled in your bedsheets. 

“Oh. Oh.”

You both sit in silence for a moment. Javy decides to break it. 

“Was it– Was I–” He tries so hard to make the words come out, but nothing does. His hands rest on his thighs and he furrows his brows and directs his gaze to the carpet. 

“I think it was because we’ve been around each other so much. And obviously, it’s been a while.”

Javy agrees with you because of course he does. You try to breathe some lightness into your tone, anything to battle this heaviness that’s sunken into the conversation. “It’s crazy how the human brain works, right?” 

Javy’s eyes drop to your lips, but only for a second. He smiles politely and bows his head in subtle agreement. “It is crazy.”

–

Flu season passes through San Diego like a plague. It seems every week, another one of your coworkers is out, whether it be their own health in distress or their children’s. It was only a matter of time before it came to you. 

Despite having gotten your flu shot, you experience probably the worst bout of sickness in your life. You’re bundled up on your bed, fluffy robe with the drawstring pulled tight. Javy is hovering in the hallway–because that seems to be his neutral state of being these days, hovering. He dares not to open the door because of your self-imposed quarantine. You’ve created an imaginary moat of used tissues and dirty clothes, all to protect the fire-breathing dragon that is your feverish body.

“If you don’t go, I will strangle you.” You threaten, though it comes out weak and nasal. 

“I can always reschedule–” 

“You’ve been rescheduling on this girl for two weeks! I’ll be fine, I promise! I’m probably just going to watch old episodes of New Girl until I pass out from exhaustion.” 

“Fine, but if you need anything–anything at all–just text me or call me.”

You verbally push Javy out of the door with more assurances and less thinly veiled threats. Things have been awkward between the two of you since your confession. You’re almost relieved at your sickness and the way it has allowed you to avoid more unnecessary face-to-face contact. At least that’s what you tell yourself. But when you hear the front door shut and the sound of Javy’s engine starting up, you look around the room. Running your hands over the wrinkled bedding, a feeling almost like loneliness settles over you.

–

It was an unfortunate ending to a mild evening. A broken Javy crackled over the speaker before he was speeding his way across town. 

You’re shivering by the time he reaches you. Which makes no sense because you’re so hot that Javy hisses when his palm touches your clammy forehead. He’s about to scoop you up and load you into the back seat of his car when you come to. You murmur and whine and he tells you that he’s got you and he’s here. He explains that he’s gonna take you to the hospital and that seems to be the only thing that breaks you out of your feverish state because you open your eyes and tell him No hospital.  

He’s lucky that the upholstered lounge chair in the corner of your room is as comfy as it is because that’s where he stays for the rest of the night. He holds a cold damp cloth to your forehead, murmuring apologies when you whimper at the disorienting change in temperature. He routinely uses a thermometer, because damn your wishes if it means that you die in this bed on his watch. Your fever stays just below the concerning range and it isn’t until 4 am that it finally breaks. 

Only then does Javy let himself fall asleep. 

You wake up weak and disoriented. Javy pulled up the chair from the corner of the room to right next to the bed. After a bowl of soup, he convinces you to take a bath and changes out your sweat-soaked flannel sheets for fresh ones straight from the dryer. 

“Oh my god, your date! I’m so sorry—“

Javy waves you off with a wave and a gentle dismissal. He insists it’s fine. That there was no spark anyways. 

It’s not until you’re tucked under the covers with half a cup of tea on your nightstand that he slips into the hallway and sends out a text. 

Had a lovely time last night. 

I just don’t think I’m in the right headspace for a relationship right now. 

I hope you understand. 

[pitchsidestories]

✨ you choose what we write next ✨

You can find the summaries for the fanfics down below. <3

Stay strong like a lioness (Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader)

Summary: reader is a lioness and she loses a big game and when she loses she has a tendency to shut down. Like not speak not do anything but be silent and want to be alone. And Mapi and Ingrid watch this happen sand can’t do anything to help her and they get really upset watching their girlfriend shut down like that.

(Lucy Bronze x Reader)

Summary: Reader gets tackeled and breaks her leg and her knee is all fuxked up. Lucy helps reader on the field. But she also helps her through the surgery and recovery. Reader gets told she can never play again. Something sad but fluff with happy ending.

The favourite (Aitana Bonmati x Reader)

Summary: You're a teacher and your class adores Aitana and can't wait for her to come for a visit, even though your girlfriend refuses to believe that she's an idol to them.

Coming Home (Guro Reiten x Reader)

Summary: guro fluff after an international break away from each other, chelsea reader

Treat you better (Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader)

Summary: the reader is dating another footballer from another team but they aren’t treating the reader very well and the whole of the Barcelona team can see it. Mapi and Ingrid like the reader but the reader doesn’t realise they end up telling her basically showing the reader how they should be treated.

New Romantics (2) (Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader)

Summary: Part 1 can be found here.

Can't stop this feeling (2) (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Part 1 can be found here.

(Cata Coll x Reader)

Summary: reader is just coming into barca from a different team that is smaller to play with cata (dating already? Childhood besties?) and plays her first big game (champions league or classico) and cata has to calm her down from a panic attack either before the game or at the half.

(Caroline Graham Hansen x Reader)

Summary: she wants to move in with you but is too scared to ask

Babysitting (Lucy Bronze x Reader)

Summary: a Lucy Bronze x reader and Barca x platonic!reader fluff where the younger girls at Barca see them as older sister/mother figures and when England have a match against the youngsters, who play for Spain, even after a tough game, reader and Lucy still look after them and make sure they do their recovery and wear jackets on the pitch, etc. and lucy and reader are like “ you’d be a great mother”

Jealousy (Patri Guijarro x Leon! Reader)

Summary: where r is attractive and has a tonne of people flirting with her but r has been in love with patri forever , after a while r distances herself when her advances on patri go unnoticed however she does not know that her advances have worked just patri was getting ready to accept readers offer of a date when r announces she has a date and patri tells her teammates like alexia and mapi that she loves r so they decide to help her get with r eventually it works but people keep flirting with reader so jealous patri takes r home where they live together and basically fucks reader and makes sure everyone knows r is taken they turn up at to relentless teasing with fluff little bit of angst and teasing and smut.

One Last Dance (Lieke Martens x Reader)

Summary: where she married to reader and she retiring from international basically like the game the other day her last home game.

[ficnation]

Chapter 5: Bait

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,0k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: It's been eighty-four years... (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

The silence in the room is deafening as you stare at Jack Crawford with wide eyes. The tea you just made would already be nothing more than a puddle on the wooden floor if it wasn’t for Will, who took it from your hands when they began to shake. He doesn’t even blink when a few drops spill out over his fingers and burn his skin.

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble in disbelief, your gaze shifting to Will, who stands steadfast by your side, unmoving. He casts a glance between you and Jack, once, then twice, grappling with the weight of his allegiance. It doesn’t require a genius to connect the dots. “Did you know about this, Will?” Your voice carries a tone of betrayal, leaving Will feeling like Brutus to your Julius Caesar—as though he just plunged a metaphorical dagger into your back.

Jack Crawford stares at you long and hard, and a little guilty. “You’re our best chance.”

“You want me to be the bait.” You cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, furiously shaking your head. “I’m not— I won’t do that,” you protest.

Even if you never expected anything less from Jack Crawford, the feeling of treachery is almost crushing. Will takes a step towards you, and then another. He approaches you cautiously, with his hands extended in a calming gesture, almost as if he were approaching a scared animal ready to bolt any minute now. You’d consider it a pretty funny sight if the situation were any different, but right now, you might just be a skittish doe surrounded by wolves.

When he places a hand on your back, his touch lacks the usual reassurance it once held. Despite any grievances you may have harbored against him, he was always your sanctuary. Yet today, that sanctuary feels distant. You gently shrug his hand off and take a step back. The pain in Will’s eyes is palpable—a deep, sorrowful abyss that mirrors your own heartache.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do,” Will says in response. “You’re the best shot we’ve got.”

“What makes you even think that Hannibal Lecter will pursue me? I find it hard to believe.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Jack raises a brow, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm that makes you itch to punch him square in the face. Sure, you’re breathing, but your sister lies six feet under the very ground you’re walking on. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

You’ve felt it too—the lingering gazes trailing you as you tread the corridors of the BAU’s headquarters, the enigmatic curve of his lips as you cross his path. It’s a sensation that crawls beneath your skin, a disconcerting dance of shadows in the depths of your soul. What strange game is he playing with you? 

Will’s face contorts into an indescribable grimace when he hears those words spoken aloud, as if each syllable is a sharp knife twisting deeper into his already troubled conscience. 

“I’m not going to throw you into the lion’s mouth and just sit back and watch,” Will says after a few seconds of silence. “He’s intrigued by you, just as much as he’s intrigued by me. I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

Jack seems satisfied with that. He knows that if Will is on board, it won’t take much persuasion to get you there too. He genuinely believes that you can help them. Yet, you surprise him once again, and he wonders who snuffed out your will to fight to make the world a better place.

“Do you even hear yourself, Will? I very much like being alive. I won’t do this, and that’s my final answer,” you huff out, stepping away from him, even though it hurts—burns your soul.

Will can’t bring himself to be upset with you because your reaction is completely understandable. Your sister—your flesh and blood—has been taken from you, and you’re just exhausted. You don’t have the energy to risk fighting a man like Hannibal, and he understands that better than anyone else ever could.

“I’m only asking for your help, not your life,” Jack says. Deep down, he knows he’s not winning this if Will doesn’t, and one glance at the green-eyed man confirms they’re at an impasse. So, he steps back, granting you the much-needed space. “Take some time to think about it.”

“No, thank you. I won’t be thinking about it,” you assert firmly, your resolve unyielding.

Jack sighs and shakes his head, almost in awe of your stubbornness, but surprisingly not in a condescending way. “Suit yourself,” he says before turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

Will makes sure that Jack is out of the room and out of hearing distance before he sets the mug on the counter and lets his frustration come out. He lets out a long sigh, moving close to you once again. You can see that all he wants is to kiss you, to drown you in his touch the way only he can—but he’s holding himself back, and you know it’s not easy. 

“I didn’t want this,” Will’s words are sharp, his voice tinged with bitterness. “I don’t want any of this, but I do know that Hannibal needs to be taken down,” he adds, his gaze hardening with determination.

You don’t answer, and you can see that Will is disappointed by your response, or rather the lack of one. His disappointment doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and that realization pains you even more. While your brain insists it’s for the greater good to apprehend Hannibal, you can’t ignore the persistent voice whispering in your ear, urging you to prioritize yourself above all.

If you let yourself accept this, if you become the bait that Jack wants you to be, it’s as if you’re letting yourself go once again. Everything you’ve buried in the darkest cranny of your mind will come back to haunt you. And you can’t go through it all again. You can’t.

Will takes your hand, and you can feel his body shaking slightly, his breath quickening. He’s nervous, but there’s something else at play here, and it’s hard for you to discern exactly what it is. His hand tightens around yours until all your fingers are securely in his grasp, and he doesn’t let go. It’s as if he’s trying to communicate something by the intensity of his grip, as if his emotions can no longer be contained by mere words. And when he finally speaks, his voice is so soft that you can barely hear him even in the silent room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Will’s voice is tentative, his grip tightening on your hand.

“You ask a lot of them lately,” you say lightheartedly.

He chuckles at your jab, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I’m serious,” he mumbles, his tone becoming earnest. “Would you trust me... enough to believe that Hannibal won’t harm you? I will protect you from him. I swear on my life.”

Will holds your gaze, and your mind turns blank—his question leaves you mute. It’s been a long time since you’ve trusted someone so much. He’s so important to you that it hurts more than you would like to admit. This isn’t the Will Graham from just a few minutes ago—loyal to Jack’s dictations and ideas. This is Will Graham—your love, your best friend. And right now, you’d trust him with your life.

“I will do it,” you mumble out, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. You look him straight in the eyes and repeat it a little louder. “I will do my best.”

Will lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and he pulls you close to him once more so that your lips almost touch his jaw—almost. His fingers travel through your hair, and his other hand grips at the back of your sweater. There’s nothing more intimate than this—the quiet understanding between you two. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Thank you,” his voice is a murmur—a promise, a secret shared, something intimate amidst all of this madness.

“I’m not doing it for Crawford or anyone else. I’m doing it for you, for my sister…”

“I know, love,” Will mumbles, his voice still as soft as ever. “I know.”

Silence sets in, with only the sound of you and Will breathing—in tandem with each other. It’s like a peaceful moment in between the chaos, where a thousand thoughts are all trying to fight for space in your head, but your focus is right here, right now, and it’s only you two.

The world doesn’t feel quite so dark when you’re here—when you’re with Will.

That night Will tells you to wear something nice and elegant, not too revealing. You don’t question him, changing into one of the few dresses you have in your suitcases. It’s pine green, the satin fabric fits almost like a second skin. There’s something about wearing this dress that makes you feel like you’re ready to take on whatever comes your way.

There’s also something about it that makes you excited to see Will’s face when he lays eyes on you. You know that he’ll love it and just a few minutes later his expression proves you were right.

“You look... ravishing,” Will whispers, his eyes locked on you. You can tell that he’s speechless by the way he blinks, almost too surprised by your appearance. 

“You don’t think it’s too much?” you mumble, feeling slightly embarrassed by how much you anticipated his reaction. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, and you take a deep breath and walk across the room to kiss his lips. You take it slow and give a little bite at the end—just to see his reaction.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Will mumbles, his voice already a little lower than before. He can feel your lips sliding away, as if they’re a temptation that’s almost impossible to resist. The kiss was short, but Will knows he enjoyed it more than a little bit. 

“I might just do it again,” you warn him, and you move close to his ear to whisper some words that make your body shiver and his skin break out in goosebumps. “We need to finish that dinner fast. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sit next to you and keep my hands to myself.”

Will swallows hard, his heart beating quicker, as he looks down at you. Your words are enough to render him speechless. He can’t find his voice to reply. It’d be too easy to pull you into his mind and act on both of your instincts. The mere thought of it makes him so nervous, so hungry, and so eager. When he finally speaks, it’s in a low, desperate tone that sounds far away. 

“You make my blood boil.”

Standing in front of Hannibal Lecter’s house, flanked by Will and Jack, feels like the most daunting task you’ve ever faced. The weight of impending decisions hangs heavy in the air, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re on the verge of unraveling your own life once again. Your nerves are frayed, betraying the facade of composure you strive to maintain. Fear grips you tightly, its icy fingers coiling around your heart, as uncertainty clouds your thoughts. Every step closer to that imposing threshold feels like a leap into the unknown, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. You steel yourself for what lies ahead, hoping against hope that your resolve won’t crumble under the weight of doubt.

Jack stands silently next to you, his expression cold and his eyes piercing you from time to time in a way that’s unnerving. His mere presence sends shivers down your spine. You glance at Will, who appears just as uncertain as you, if not more so. While the decision to help take down Hannibal doesn’t seem to trouble him, the thought of involving you in this dangerous endeavor clearly weighs heavily on his mind. What he’s asking you to endure and the risks involved make him flinch as much as they make your stomach churn with dread.

Will’s fingers slide in between yours, a silent promise that he won’t leave your side. You can almost feel his heart beating wildly, mirroring your own, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, focusing solely on the person about to open the door.

The door swings open, welcoming you into a home that’s as stunning inside as it is outside. But the beauty of the surroundings fades into insignificance as you lay eyes on the Hannibal Lecter standing before you. Suddenly, you find it impossible to meet anyone else’s gaze but his, your surroundings fading into a thick fog as his presence commands your attention.

Hannibal looks at you—your body, your hair, your face, everything. His gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed, as if he’s peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. You swear he sees right through you, leaving no detail unnoticed and no fraction of space untouched by his scrutiny. It’s unnerving, the way he seems to perceive not just the person in front of him, but the one behind the delicate mask you’ve crafted.

Your heart rate skyrockets as his gaze lingers, and it takes all your willpower and courage to maintain a neutral expression, to keep the tremor of fear from showing on your face.

Before you can fully absorb the image of him, Jack steps forward, breaking the painful silence. “Dr. Lecter,” he speaks in a stern voice, then turns to look at you, acting as the bridge between you and the stranger.

“Ms. Avant,” Hannibal’s voice is as smooth and elegant as you’ve always heard it to be. His tone is polite but distant, prompting you to remember to smile in order to appear normal. Will’s fingers squeeze yours in a silent display of support, conveying his discontent with the arrangement. But you both know there’s little you can do about it.

“It’s actually Mrs. Graham now,” you correct him, but immediately regret it when his eyes widen subtly—a reaction you barely catch. It seems Will has kept this information to himself. “But you can still call me Agent Avant. It’ll save the confusion around the BAU.”

Hannibal gives you a small smile, but your comment seems to have thrown him off balance. Your response is far more cordial than he was expecting, and he appears almost amused by the unexpected turn of events. He exchanges a glance with Jack before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’ll do as you ask,” he replies, his tone tinged with curiosity—but beneath the surface, there’s an undertone of something darker lurking. As he takes your hand in his and squeezes gently, a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Your hands are damp, your throat feels sore and dry, and you struggle to calm your racing mind. “Thank you for the invitation, Doctor Lecter,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hannibal takes in your statement but doesn’t offer any reply. He maintains his hold on your hands, his grip slightly tighter than before. Despite the warmth and firmness of his touch, you can’t shake off the unsettling feeling that lingers.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you feel yourself being drawn into the depths of his eyes. It’s as if he’s peering into your very soul, and you find it difficult to tear your gaze away. You’re on the verge of melting under his intense scrutiny when you manage to spare a quick glance at Will, whose expression remains impassive, betraying little of what he might be feeling. 

A moment passes as you struggle to fend off the creeping anxiety, attempting to find some semblance of calm within yourself. Then, Will releases a breath and strides forward, heading towards the open door. Without hesitation, you follow in his footsteps.

Hannibal casts one last glance in your direction before turning away, ushering you into his home. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the sight of luxurious furniture and intricate decorations adorning the space. The room exudes opulence, almost resembling a palace rather than the abode of a mere man.

“He’s a man of taste,” Jack remarks, his words breaking the silence. You sense that he’s directing the observation at you, a detail that would be inconsequential under different circumstances.

You nod in acknowledgment, allowing your thoughts to drift as you proceed further into the house.

“It’s all very... extravagant,” is what you say next, and what you don’t add is how there’s a faint sense of emptiness in this house despite all the details and decorations. It’s almost chilling.

“I do favor extravagance and elegance in my lifestyle,” Hannibal agrees, his gaze darting carefully between you and Will. Surprisingly, he doesn’t appear to be perturbed by Jack Crawford’s presence as much as you anticipated.

“I’ve noticed that,” a whisper slips from your lips inadvertently. The comment was meant to remain in your thoughts, but the words escape on their own accord. You glance away momentarily, hoping the remark will go unnoticed, but Hannibal catches it without hesitation. He smiles at you, almost as if you’ve just paid him a compliment.

“Oh, you have?” Hannibal’s voice is smooth and pleasant, its seductive undertones causing a flush to rise to your cheeks.

You offer a delicate smile in response, opting not to elaborate further as Hannibal leads you to the dining room. The table is expansive, perfectly set to accommodate everyone present. A bottle of wine rests in the center, surrounded by meticulously arranged plates, utensils, glasses, and other accouterments—everything impeccably placed without a single detail out of order.

As Hannibal offers you a seat, the mere thought of sitting so close to him sends a shudder down your spine. It’s as if you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body as he settles into the head of the table. Your breath becomes heavy, your heart quickens its pace, and your mind races with a flurry of thoughts and emotions.

You notice every detail of his demeanor—the elegant curve of his fingers around the stem of his glass, the subtle curl of his lips, the intensity of his gaze when it lingers on yours for just a moment too long. It’s all so captivating, yet simultaneously overwhelming, causing a weakness to settle in the pit of your stomach. You find yourself averting your gaze multiple times, attempting to break free from the enchanting spell he seems to cast over your mind.

Beside you, Will’s expression remains impassive, but you can sense that he, too, is attuned to every nuance of Hannibal’s behavior.

As Hannibal disappears into the kitchen to bring out the food, you exhale a sigh of relief, though you can’t shake the fear that he might hear it all the way from the kitchen.

You cast a glance at Will, hoping for some distraction from the overwhelming intensity of the moment. However, his expression remains unchanged, revealing nothing of what might be running through his mind. It’s as if he’s closed off his thoughts, leaving you with no insight into his inner turmoil.

You feel trapped in the most claustrophobic way imaginable. Hannibal’s presence consumes your thoughts entirely—his smile, his breath, his voice, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses. Even the mere scent of him sends shivers down your spine. You’re engulfed by the intensity of the situation, wondering how you’ll manage to make it through the dinner.

When Hannibal returns and places the fish on the table between Jack and Will, you notice a flicker of relief pass between them as they exchange a glance.

“Truite saumonee au bleau with vegetables and broth, served with hollandaise sauce on the side,” Hannibal presents the dish with a flourish, the delicate aroma wafting enticingly through the air. “Beautiful fish, Will,” he adds, his tone carrying a hint of admiration for the culinary creation before you.

“It was my turn to provide the meat,” Will interjects, his words carrying a deeper meaning than mere culinary discussion.

“More flavorful and firm than farmed specimens. I find the trout to be a very Nietzschean fish. Trials of his wild existence find their way into the flavor of the flesh,” Hannibal comments, before serving the food and taking his seat at the head of the table. “I hope ‘providing the meat’ doesn’t mean you still harbor doubts about what I serve at my table.”

You try to maintain an appearance of composure, despite feeling like a nervous wreck. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in for a moment before releasing it slowly. Casting your gaze down at your plate, you decide to focus on eating—it’s the least you can do to occupy yourself in this tense atmosphere. Picking up your fork, you take bite after bite of the fish, though you find that everything seems to lack flavor, despite its deliciousness.

Will remains silent, his expression unreadable.

Jack chuckles dryly before speaking on Will’s behalf. “No doubts, Dr. Lecter. Only the wounds we dealt each other before we got to the truth.”

You can’t fully grasp what either of them has said, as your mind is consumed by other thoughts. You feel Hannibal’s gaze fixed on you as you eat, his eyes attentively observing your every movement.

He doesn’t appear irritated by your slow pace or lack of enthusiasm, yet there’s something about his stare that compels you to rush through your meal just to make it stop. The scent of the food is almost like his breath in your nose, the taste of it feels like his lips, and when you take a bite, you almost expect him to lean over and take it from your mouth.

“Which is why we need to move past apologies and forgiveness,” Hannibal responds finally, his voice carrying a weight of conviction. As Will’s eyes catch his stare on you, Hannibal continues, “Chilton has many victims besides the dead.”

“That’s precisely our intention,” you assert, drawing all eyes towards you as you speak up with determination.

Everyone falls into a momentary silence, the weight of their gazes palpable as tension simmers in the air. Will’s eyes remain fixed on you, his expression one of approval as he acknowledges your firmness and confidence.

“We will absorb this experience, and it will change us. We are all Nietzschean fish in that regard,” Hannibal continues, his words punctuated by a subtle undertone of philosophical reflection.

“Makes us tastier,” Will interjects with a touch of humor, prompting you to gently kick him underneath the table.

Hannibal cracks a dry smile at Will’s comment, his demeanor retaining an air of sophistication as he sets his cutlery down on the plate and folds his hands in front of him.

“I would say it adds depth to our flavor,” he remarks, his words flowing from his lips with a smooth and velvety ease that seems to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat. The air in the room seems to pause for a moment, awaiting a reaction from someone, but you remain focused on your plate, determined to ignore the intensity of his stare until the end of the dinner.

The rest of the meal passes by in a blur. Hannibal maintains his role as the perfect host, his demeanor poised and gracious. Jack remains true to his usual self, engaging in conversation and observing the proceedings with his characteristic vigilance.

However, you can’t shake the feeling that something is amiss. Will, typically a key player in any plan, seems oddly detached, failing to fully engage in his part of the strategy. His silence speaks volumes, leaving you with a sense of unease as you try to decipher his intentions.

Reluctantly, Jack gathers his things and bids his farewell, leaving you and Will alone with Hannibal at the table. Hannibal, ever the gracious host, proposes another glass of wine, his gaze lingering on you both with a hint of intrigue.

[muxshwriting]

from eden

Will Graham x sister!reader

summary: Will tries to protect his sister from himself and his life, only to push her even closer to it || warnings: knives, blood, gore, graphic injury, death, murder || words: 973 || masterlist

You're sitting on your brother's porch, watching the sun rise as you wait for him. The ground is frozen over, as it often is during winter mornings and your breath forms a mist in front of you. The front door opens and Winston comes running to greet you. Will follows him out and you turn towards him.

"Morning."

"Good morning." His voice is stilted, like he's on edge. "Listen, this isn't a good time..."

"Oh, have you got work or-"

"Yeah. Something like that."

Your mood drops at his rejection. "Ok. I've got the book you asked for and some stuff for the dogs." You offer the bag that was beside you.

"Thanks."

~~

You're sitting outside his door again, waiting for Will to arrive home. Life hadn't been great recently and sometimes all you need is your brother. A car pulls up to the house and two men get out. Will and someone dressed in a very fancy suit.

"Will!" You call out to him and both men turn to face you. Will walks over to you and offers you a hand to stand.

"Hannibal, this is my sister Y/N. Y/N, this is Hannibal Lecter, we work together at the FBI."

"It's nice to meet you." You begin.

Will interrupts you. "What do you need?" He glances back to Hannibal and then to you.

Is this why Will was so distant lately? Becuase he made a new friend? "It's fine Will. It's nothing. I was just leaving anyway." You bite back your emotions and wave a goodbye before getting in your car and driving away from your brother and his new friend Hannibal Lecter.

~~

Jack Crawford calls.

Will's been arrested for a string of murders. Your heart is in your mouth and you find yourself running to the bathroom and emptying your stomach in the toilet. You can hear a muffled question through the phone but the words aren't clear and your head is spinning.

You find yourself on his porch again. Winston's head is laying across your lap and it's the only thing keeping your grounded. Stray tears run down your chin before you can wipe them away and the wind makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

~~

Will was released and aquitted from prison months ago. You know he's seen you walking in the woods near his cabin but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't call and he doesn't text you back anymore. It's like he isn't your brother.

"What's going on Will?"

He's standing outside your door, sweat glistening on his forehead and a distinct bloodstain on his cuffs. The pain in his eyes is immeasurable and his hands shake slightly.

"We need to go. Hannibal is crazy, he's going to try and kill you. We need to go."

Before you can reply, his phone rings. He shows the contact to you and it's Hannbial ringing him. You can't get your head around what Will is talking about. Hannbial is trying to kill you? You've met the man once. Maybe Will is going crazy like Alana said he was. Maybe he's not your brother anymore.

Will is pushing you out of the door, telling you to meet him at his place before he picks up the call and starts talking.

You're running. The woods are so familiar to you, bringing you a sene of comfrot as you reach the beaten path you alway take. The cabin draws nearer and a dog comes to greet you as you run towards them all.

Someone's already on the porch, standing stall and shrouded in darkness.

Your steps come to patterned stop as you stare at the figure. Tentatively you reach for you phone and switch on the torch. Hannibal is standing there, knife in hand, blood dripping from his fingers.

"Hannibal?" Your voice is quiet, afraid.

He smiles, sending a shiver down your spine as you turn and run back towrds the wood. In your panic, your foot twists and you fall to the ground. Hannibal stalks towards you, his smirk growing wider as the knife is raised.

You fumble to your feet, heart thundering as footsteps follow you into the woods. Your phone rings. It's Will.

"Will! Help me. Hannibal's here." You're yelling into the phone, not caring if Hannibal can hear whre you are. Will is yelling back down the phone telling you to run and try to loop back to the house towards him.

You dash to your left, ducking under low branches and trying to quiet your panting breaths. An arm wraps around your neck, holding you against a body. You struggle against his hold but a knife is quickly pressed against your cheek.

You're dragged back through the woods to the cabin where Will is waiting. His face is filled with worry, then replaced by fury as he sees Hannibal holding you.

"I didn't want this for us Will."

Will shakes his head. "Let her go. She doesn't know anything."

Hannibal traces the tip of knife from your temple to your chin and you try to lean away from it. He digs into your skin as you gasp in pain.

"Will-" A sharp pain in your chest cuts you off as you're unceremoniously dropped to the ground. You glance down to see a pool of red soaking into your shirt. Will is by your side in an instant, pressing hard against your chest as you gasp for air you can't seem to get.

"Will." You mutter. He meets your eyes, tears springing in his own. "It's okay. It's okay."

You're fading fast, Hannibal knowing just where to stab to hurt you the most and leave Will unable to save you. The corners of your vision blacken and you reach a hand to Will's face.

"It's okay..."

The world goes black and the last thing you hear is your brother's cry of pain as you fade from the world.

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