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angelasscribbles · 1 year ago

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What Once Was

Fandom: Vying for Versailles (Romance Club)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: none

Summary: Renee married someone else. But what happens when Alexandre comes back into her life?

“Madame, you have a visitor.”

Renée looked up from her writing desk curiously. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. “Who is it, Beatrice?”

Beatrice had served Renee since she had first set foot in Versailles all those years ago. She had risen from lady’s maid to maîtresse d'hôtel. Her duties now involved overseeing all the other household servants at Chateau de Marly.

“It’s Monsieur Bontemps, Madame.”

The door to the study swung wide as the mistress of house backed away, revealing Alexandre, his fingers twisting nervously at the hat clasped in his hands.

Renee rose from her desk with surprised delight and swept across the room to greet him with a hug. “Alexandre! This is a pleasant surprise! Wait….” She drew back with a worried crease across her brow, “Is all well? The king—”

“The king is fine, Madame.”

Her good mood faltered as her eyes tracked his face noting the agitation in his stance. Very little rattled the king’s spymaster. “Then why are you here?”

“I was hoping we could have a private conversation.” His eyes darted around the room. “May I come in?”

“Certainly, but I think we would be more comfortable in the small sitting room.” She stepped out of the study and led him down the hallway to the smallest of the sitting rooms. It was cozy, plush, and private.

She gave Beatrice instructions to send a maid in with tea service then she shut the door. Turning back to him, she crossed her arms and studied him closely.

He was fidgety, clearly wound up about something, which was completely out of character for him. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled across her face as she took in his agitation. “Do I still make you nervous, Alexandre?”

“You do have a way of knocking my equilibrium off balance, Madame.” He gave her a small smile.

The affection and heat in his gaze sent butterflies exploding through her stomach. “That is good to know, Monsieur.”

He arched an eyebrow skeptically, “You think me indifferent to you?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could never be indifferent to you.” The pure, undisguised longing on his face sent shivers cascading down her spine.

There was a brief lull in their conversation as the tea was served. Renee watched the maid retreat as she stirred her tea. With her eyes focused on the cup in her hand, she softly said, “You should have stayed.”

“Renee…I couldn’t stay in close proximity to you knowing I could never touch you again.”

She glanced up at him and her tone was sharp as she told him, “Those were the choices you made.”

He sighed as he carefully sat his cup on the table. It was the same argument they’d had before he had left for Geneva to serve the king’s interest in Switzerland. “You didn’t choose me.”

“I did. I simply didn’t choose only you,” she reminded him. “And it’s not like you were ever going to marry me anyway.”

“A spymaster—”

“I know. Believe me, I remember all your excuses.”

“They weren’t excuses.”

“Weren’t they?”

He didn’t answer. He had told her that they could never be a couple. He hadn’t had a noble title back then and his work made it almost impossible to conduct a love affair. But when she had accepted a proposal from the Prince du Sang, it had felt like a knife plunged into his heart.

He drew in a deep breath and decided to tell her the truth. “There’s something you don’t know, Renee. I did approach Louis about a possible match. The king had been offering to ennoble me for years. I thought, maybe…”

Renee jerked in surprise, nearly spilling her tea in the process, “What?”

“My request was rejected out of hand and when Philippe got down on one knee in front of the entire court a mere day later, I understood why.”

Louis loved him like a brother. But Philippe was his brother. And he had probably asked first. The prince was a better match for her anyway. He knew that.

Renee quickly sat her cup down and tried to quell the shaking in her hands. “Alexandre…why didn’t you tell me?”

“After witnessing firsthand your pure joy at accepting another man’s proposal? What would have been the point?” He had, instead, determined to keep his distance from her.

And yet when their paths crossed, he had found that he still could not resist her. “Do you remember that night in Paris, right before your wedding?”

Madame de France, princess, duchess, and marquise did not blush easily, but her cheeks colored at the reminder. “Of course I do. But why are you bringing that up? Why are you bringing any of it up now?”

“Pardon?”

“Why discuss these things now? After all this time?”

“Ah, yes.” And here was the reason for his visit. “Do you remember when you told me that you would recognize me anywhere?”

“Yes. And you said the same. What does that have to do with why you’re here?”

“Only that I by chance saw you last time I was in Paris on the king’s business. I only saw your profile as you climbed into your carriage, but I knew it was you.”

“And you didn’t think to say hello?”

“I started to but then I saw your son.”

“Louis-Philippe?”

“Yes. One of the servants handed him up into the carriage to you and I got a clear view of his face, Renee.”

Her heart stopped. “And?”

“And he favors neither the prince nor a certain count that you are overly fond of.”

She ignored his reference to Armand as her heart started to thump even harder. She knew exactly who the child favored but she wasn’t going to make this easy on him. Her hands and her voice were steady as she looked him directly in the eye. “What are you asking me, Alexandre?”

“Is he….is he mine?”

She jumped up from her seat and stalked across the room to stare out the window. After a long pause, she replied, “You are not a father in the way that Philippe is. You do not tuck him into bed at night nor ease his fears when the thunder booms. He does not know you.”

He stood and followed her across the room, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Without turning to look at him, she whispered, “Yes, he was conceived that night in Paris.”

Alexandre’s world tilted on its axis. He had known, of course, the moment he had seen the child’s face. But to have confirmation…. He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Anger flared through her as she spun to face him and flung his own words back at him. “What would have been the point? You ran away from me fast enough the moment you didn’t like my choices.”

“But a child, Renee!”

“By the time I knew I was with child, I was already married! What would you have had me do? Put it in a letter so your enemies could use it against us both? You well know how easy it is to intercept correspondence.”

He nodded in acquiescence. He could not fault her logic. “And the Prince du Sang... does he….”

“Philippe knows. He does not care.”

“I find that hard to believe, Madame.”

“Did you think we were cuckolding him every time we were together?”

“Well…”

“I told you, before he even proposed, what our arrangement was!”

“Yes, but I—”

“You what? You thought I was lying?” She stepped closer. So close she could smell the vanilla and cardamom scent that always clung to him. So close that she could feel the heat radiating from him, sense the tension in his body, “I may lie to everyone else in service to my king and my country, but I have never lied to you nor him! I do not lie to the people that I love.”

Alexandre froze, shock, pleasure, and disbelief coursing through him at her words. She loved him?

Oblivious to his reaction to her unintentional confession, she plowed on. “And your assertation that I would have divided loyalties was preposterous! My loyalty to my husband would never put me at cross purposes with you, Alexandre and you know it! Philippe loves his brother and is loyal to him. Furthermore, I do not tell him everything that I know or that I do. He understands and respects the need for discretion when it comes to my duties as a spymaster! He would never ask me to betray—”

“Alright! Alright!” He held both hands up in surrender with a bemused chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Alexandre!” She stood in the middle of the room, just inches from him, cheeks red and chest heaving with emotion.

He was struck nearly speechless by her beauty. She was even more breathtaking when she was angry. How was that possible? He took an involuntary step toward her.

She froze, her eyes trained on him, but she didn’t back away.

He took another step toward her, this one purposeful.

They stood, unmoving, staring into each other’s eyes; two hearts pounding in anticipation. He lifted a hand and reached out for her just as the sitting room door banged open.

“There you are, my love! I—oh! I didn’t realize we had company.” The prince stopped short, causing the chevalier who had been hot on his heels to collide into his backside.

Alexandre jerked his hand back and stepped away awkwardly. “My prince! I…” he executed a low bow. “So lovely to see you again.”

Philippe’s eyes took in the valet’s flushed and guilty expression and then his wife’s stoic demeanor. Renee had not backed away when he entered the room. She had stood her ground. Her ire was evident and he smothered a smile. He understood everything. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Alexandre, but let’s not pretend you came here for me.”

“I….” For the first time in his life, Alexandre was struck completely speechless.

Renee finally moved, closing the distance to greet her husband with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She murmured in his ear, “He knows about Louie.”

“Hm,” he hugged her back, but his gaze was trained on his brother’s spymaster.

Renee moved around her husband to greet the chevalier with the same hug and kiss she had just given her husband. “How was grouse hunting?”

“As usual, we didn’t find a single grouse but at least we didn’t end up drunk in a fountain again.” The chevalier laughed at his own joke as he returned her hug. Not a day passed that he didn’t count his blessings.

There had been a time when the king had been adamant that Philippe make a political marriage, likely to some English noblewoman who would expect fidelity from him. He would forever be grateful that Louis had allowed the prince to marry Renee and that Renee had never blinked at the relationship between the two men. Now he practically lived at Chateau de Marly and was both a godfather and cherished uncle to their son. They functioned very well as a threesome and while his whole heart belonged to the prince, he wasn’t completely indifferent to Renee.

He also liked the life they had built together very much so he glared suspiciously at the intruder. “Why are you here, Monsieur Bontemps?”

Finally recovering, Alexander stiffly replied, “I had some…business to discuss with the duchess.”

Renee snorted. “Business? Is that what this is, Alexandre?”

He flushed scarlet which caused the other two men in the room to laugh.

The prince spoke first. “Let’s drop the pretense, shall we? Renee and I have no secrets from each other nor do I keep secrets from the chevalier. His discretion is not in question. You may speak freely. Everyone in this room knows that Louis is your son. So why are you really here?”

“Do you wish to challenge me to a duel, Monsieur?” Alexandre asked carefully.

Philippe looked at him askance. “Why would I do that?”

Alexandre shook his head slowly. “Most men in your position would.” It was dawning on him that Renee had been telling the full truth of the matter. Philippe showed no signs of rage or jealousy.

Of course, it was an open secret at court that his affair with the chevalier never ended, but for most men indulging their own desires did not mean they were tolerant of their wives doing the same.

Philippe’s face broke into a wide smile. “When have you ever known me to be like most men? Come now, stay for dinner and we can discuss everything.”

“As tempting as that sounds…I have some urgent business matters I must attend to tonight. However….”

“Yes?”

“With your leave, I would like to visit the child. As a family friend, of course. I would never disclose the true nature of our relationship to him.”

“You want a relationship with our son?” Renee asked so quietly he almost missed it.

Turning to face her with beseeching eyes he answered her. “If it pleases you, then yes.”

Renee closed her eyes briefly as she fought against the onslaught of conflicting emotions that collided inside her at the thought. When she opened them again, she blinked up at him. “I think I would like that very much.”

Profound relief swirled through him at her answer. He had not known what to expect when he knocked on her door, but things had gone better than he could have imagined. Turning his attention back to Philippe, he asked, “And this is alright with you?”

“It is. You’ll find Louie is a capricious and wild little hellion who delights in his friendships with children and adults alike. I think he’ll be good for you.”

Alexandre barked out a surprised laugh. “He’ll be good for me?”

“Yes….” Philippe drawled out with a mischievous grin. “I think you need to loosen up and he’s just the person to help you do it.”

The king’s valet turned to go but an idea had taken root in his mind and he could not let it go. Turning back he asked, “And your wife?”

“What about her?”

“May I have permission to resume our….friendship?”

“Oh, he wants to court your wife!” The chevalier chortled out loud.

“Monsieur,” Philippe shook his head. “You disappoint me. I thought you understood. You do not need my permission. You need hers.”

Alexandre turned slowly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Madame. I would be most grateful if you would agree to indulge me in a conversation soon. I think we have many things to discuss.”

“For how long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How long will these discussions go on? When do you leave again?”

He nodded in understanding. “Given today's revelations, and assuming you will continue to welcome me as a visitor in your home, I will start making the preparations to return to my house in Paris immediately and permanently.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment and then she nodded. “I would like you to get to know our son and I would be open to you and I having a conversation about where we go from there.”

He couldn’t help the smile that crawled across his face. He left the chateau with a spring in his step.

The truth was, he had not been happy since he’d left court shortly after her wedding. He hadn’t thought he could share her, open relationship with her husband or not. But an even larger concern had been his fear of openly loving her, thereby making her a target for his enemies, which were many.

He would never be comfortable being physically affectionate with her in front of others, he was more private than that, but if there was still a relationship to be had with her, there couldn’t be a more perfect cover than her marriage. No one ever had to know what she meant to him, or that he had a child. They could therefore never be used against him.

The thought of rekindling what they once had made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time….happiness.

It was entirely possible that things had worked out for him after all.

#vying for versailles #rc vying for versailles #rc vfv #rc alexandre #rc renée #fanfiction #fanfic #romance club #vfv

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jennay · 2 years ago

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Come Back Home

Jolly x reader

An: Random idea I had that I got stuck on and required way too much help from @a-villain-vying-for-attention then decided to make her a character since she basically came up with the ideas and I wrote it. Lol thanks for being my shadow writer for times when my brain decides it's done thinking.

Words 2200

Jolly Master List

This is chunked into four sections bear with me. I hate transitional writing 😂

"Please don't tell them. They'll just worry, and next thing you know, they'll be at my door, and it's just not the right timing for me to come back. I need to finish my work here, and it's not completely horrible. I think I just miss everyone, and I feel isolated." You admit over Facetime to your best friend, Kayla. "It just wasn't supposed to be like this. “Moving away from you guys was literally one of the worst decisions I've made."

Kayla sighs, "I don't mean to say I told you so, but I did." She laughs, "But the worst part is, Noah told you, Jolly told you, and you still just said bye bitches. Do you know how sad it is not to have you here? I have to deal with them all the time, by MYSELF."

You peel yourself off the couch, dragging your feet through the dining room and to the back door.

You brace yourself for the inevitable assault of the sun, but it still hurts like hell when you open the door and get blasted by its rays. "Fuck." You groan. "It's bright." You squint your eyes and cover them with your hand as you stumble to the camping chair you set up on your porch for such occasions. You hated the daylight. You wished you could be a nocturnal creature, but sadly, you had to pretend to be a responsible adult, even if you sucked at it.

"Wow, look at you, Dracula." She mocks you from the other side of the video call. "You look like you're about to die over there, paler than a ghost and skinnier than a twig. Do I need to come over and feed you some blood? I know it's only been six months, but I will literally come over and mother you to death. I'll bring Noah too, and we'll play house. God knows we need some practice." She flashes a big smile. "You know, for the future and all that jazz."

You laugh, shaking your head, "This is new for you!"

"Yeah, well, now I'm just working on convincing Noah that it's a good idea." She tucks her hair behind her ears. "So I need you to come back because I'm not raising these imaginary kids without their badass aunt."

You roll your eyes at her, "These kids don't even exist yet, so I think we have some time, and besides, I don't know if I'll feel any better moving back. If I have to watch HIM date other people and it not be me…well, I'd rather stay here and suffer in silence."

"Well, he's miserable without you, and why are we not using his name?" She laughs again. "Mopping and shit, constantly.”

You shrug, "I think he's probably fine. I basically threw myself at him and got no reaction. I literally slept in his bed the night before I left." You pause, growing frustrated. "Maybe we're just supposed to be friends; maybe he only sees me as a friend. That's OK. I can't be mad about that, but it always felt like there was something more, you know?"

Kayla groans loudly, "You both suck. If you would've just let me meddle, I could've set you two up."

"I don't want you to set me up! I wanted something natural." You say with all seriousness. "I wanted him to say it."

From behind Kayla, Noah pokes his head into the view, "He's dumb...guys are dumb." He gives you a face that says, duh.

"Well, now I'm here, and I can just say fuck it. I'll find someone here."

Noah's laughter rings through the speaker, "And then break up because all you're gonna do is fucking compare the two and be a whiny baby about how he's not Jolly, so you had to break up? Fuck off, y/n." He chuckles again. "Just come home."

You shake your head, "No. You will have to come to drag my dead body home before I willingly come back."

Noah grabs the phone from Kayla's hand, and you meet with wide eyes. And in a serious tone, Noah says, "Dead or not, at least you'll be home where you belong."

Kayla, Noah, and Jolly were lounging on the couch, munching on some greasy take-out that Noah had ordered from the nearest pizza place. While Jolly was engrossed in the latest episode of Bob's Burgers, Kayla was shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

She couldn't stand the sight of him, acting like nothing was wrong, like he wasn't the reason her best friend wasn't living with them anymore.

Noah noticed his girlfriend's glare and chuckled softly, nudging her elbow with his. "Chill," he whispered in her ear.

"NO!" Kayla shouted, startling both Noah and Jolly. She slammed her food on the coffee table and turned to face Jolly with a furious expression. "I'm sick and tired of pretending like everything is fine. I want my friend back, and if this is what it takes to make you use your brain, then so be it!" She pointed an accusing finger at Jolly, who looked confused and scared. "You need to go get y/n back right now or get on the next flight to Sweden because I can't stand having you around. You make me so mad, both of you, pretending you don't care about each other. She's depressed as shit living there with her fuckin awful family, but she'd rather stay there than come home because of you!" She roughly gets off the couch and storms out of the room, heading for the stairs. "You're such an idiot," she yelled over her shoulder at Jolly.

Noah raised his eyebrows and bit his lip to stop laughing as he saw Jolly's dumbfounded face. Jolly put down his food and looked at Noah with a puzzled expression. "What did I do?" he asked innocently.

Noah shrugs and says, "I think it's more of what you didn't do…"

Kayla comes back down the stairs, holding her food in her hands. She glared at Jolly one more time and flipped him off, then walked out of the room. "Buy the damn ticket!" she screamed from the hallway.

Noah heard the door slam and shook his head. "Well," he said, standing up and grabbing his food. "There's your answer. Bring y/n home."

"How am I supposed to do that?" He loudly asks.

"I don't know but you need to figure it out, Kayla might actually kill you in your sleep."

You grab your coat and head for the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. You were going hiking with your sister and her husband, and you couldn't wait to explore the great outdoors with them. As you glance at the clock, you groan in annoyance, realizing you're running late again. You can't help but wonder why you're always so disorganized and frazzled.

You pull the door open, taking a deep breath of fresh air as you step outside. Suddenly, you're nearly choking on air as you see a familiar face staring back at you. Jolly stands there with a backpack over his shoulder, his long hair draped over his shoulders, and a black backward hat covering the top of his head. He's dressed in black skin jeans and a deep red plaided flannel, looking effortlessly stylish and cool.

Your shock disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by annoyance at the sight of Jolly. You can't help but feel irritated that he's here, disrupting your plans for the day. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a little bitter still.

"Hi." He quietly says, looking from you to the ground, feeling awkward. He hadn't planned what he was going to tell you.

"Can I come in?" he quietly asks.

You nod your head, stepping aside. "I was leaving, but I guess this kind of changes my plans," you say, rolling your eyes. "What are you even doing here?" You say as you follow him to the living room. "I've tried so hard not to think about you; I moved states, Jolly, and now you're at my house. Are you trying to make my life hard?" You don't sit down knowing you're too heated to stay in one place.

Jolly doesn't sit on the couch either. Instead, he sits on the armrest, staring at you with confusion and annoyance; he folds his hands in his lap and allows you to continue. Why was everyone so irritated with him? He didn't know what he did in the first place. "What did I do?" He questions.

You're eyes dart back to him. "You treated me like I was special, OK? I thought I was special to you…then, you go and date other people." You say, running out of breath. "Then I dated other people because I thought you didn't want me and I was right, you didn't care at all, but then I dumped them because all I could think about was you!" You dramatically cover your face with your hands, pacing back and forth. You enter your kitchen and stare out the sliding glass door. Your back facing Jolly as he observes you. "I stayed in your bed the night before I left, and you still let me go."

"I thought you were leaving for a job! I didn't want to be the reason you didn't go!" He whines. "You told me you were leaving for a job."

You still don't turn around to look at him, knowing he was right, "I just thought you'd ask me to stay if you really wanted me."

He stands straight, walking toward you; you feel his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. His dark eyes scan your face, wishing he wasn't the reason you were upset.

He leans in close, his breath warm on your face. "You were always special to me," he whispers, his voice low and sincere. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just confused and scared. I didn't know how to handle my feelings for you. I was afraid of losing you, so I pushed you away. I never stopped thinking about you. I came here to tell you that. To tell you that I'm sorry. To tell you I need you."

Jolly pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. He gently cups your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. He smiles softly, his eyes shining with hope. "Can you give me another chance?" he asks, his voice pleading.

You feel a surge of emotion, a mix of anger, pain, and love. You want to scream at him, to push him away. But you also want to hug him, to kiss him, to hold him close. You're torn between your head and your heart. You look into his eyes, and you see the sincerity and the regret.

You see the man you fell in love with, the man who made you laugh, the man who made you feel alive. You feel your resolve weakening, your walls crumbling. You lean in and press your lips to his, answering his question with a kiss.

"So I'm bringing you home." He smiles against your lips. Pulling back, his brown eyes search yours, "This long distance thing isn't how I want to start this." he gently kisses your forehead.

You nod knowingly, "I guess we should start packing."

Jolly smiles, running his hand through your hair, "I'm pretty sure Kayla has a timer set."

You giggle. "She is absolutely crazy." You lean up, kissing Jolly again. "But it's why we love her."

He nods in agreement, "Plus she's Noah's problem."

With a cautious glance, you gently push the front door open, hoping no one will notice your arrival and ambush you as soon as you enter the house.

You sneak into the living room on your tiptoes, holding Jolly's hand.

Noah and Kayla are so engrossed in the TV show that they don't even look at you.

You pretend to be nonchalant and sit down on the recliner next to them, giving them a hard stare.

Her eyes widen as she realizes who you are, and she jumps off the couch and runs toward you. You're home! This is fucking amazing!" She screams in your ear. "I was expecting you guys to take more time, to be honest…you both suck at directions. I don't know how you managed to drive all the way back here." She laughs as she releases you from her hug and embraces Jolly instead, "Look at you. I can finally be in the same room as you without being pissed off. I'm so proud of you." She jokes with him. "Wow," She scans the room and sees the three of you together. "So, is it official now? Can we all just admit how stupid the two of you were? I mean, come on, you could have just moved down the street instead of moving two states away." She snuggles up to Noah on the couch. "I'm not going through this again. You guys have to sort things out by yourselves from now on." She says and acts like she's dismissing you.

Jolly chuckles, sitting in the recliner; he grabs you and makes you sit on his lap, catching you off guard.

You shake your head light laughter falling from your lips, "Well, I missed you too, dick."

You lean into Jolly's chest and wrap your arms around him, feeling his warmth and heartbeat. You sigh in contentment and happiness, glad to be home with the people who loved you the most.

#jolly karlsson x y/n #jolly karlsson x you #jolly karlsson one shot #jolly karlsson fanfiction #jolly karlsson fic #jolly karlsson x reader #jolly Karlsson fluff #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic

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clericofshadows · 8 months ago

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wip wednesday!

I haven't been writing much lately, but I have been poking around on a longer project that writes up ME1 in the form of emails between regis, kaidan, and zaeed so that my ME1 writing is more in-line with my masshenko canon, so here's a few snippets of a chain I enjoyed writing :)

also the character Dove is a shoutout to my friend @kaidanalenkosprmanager's shep Sophie, since I adore her writing and her canon and decided to make her a part of Regis's canon as well... :)

From: Kaidan Alenko ([email protected])

To: Zaeed Massani ([email protected])

Subject: Incoming

Hey, figured I give you a quick heads up for another rant from Regis. Let’s just say the council meeting didn’t go well, but we did get some interesting leads. A turian C-Sec officer seems to have more information about the rogue Spectre, but Regis wasn’t impressed by him, to say the least. And we just got finished talking to a volus Shadow Broker agent of all things that gave us a lead into a krogan merc… Interesting times indeed.

And the Citadel, despite everything, is a hell of a sight. Was about laughed off by our new Chief when I called it a “Big place” and then Regis swooped in and came out about our relationship to her.

I’ll call you about it later.

There’s been some other asides we’ve managed to get on our plate–Regis helped a widower get his wife’s body back from the Alliance, and we’ve been tasked to help out with an asari consort… who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal fucking space.

I’ll probably… also call you about that one.

Seems like we both might have some things we need to rant about.

Kaidan Alenko

-- --

From: Zaeed Massani ([email protected])

To: Kaidan Alenko ([email protected])

Subject: Re: Incoming

Haven’t gotten his message yet… should I be worried? Think it may have gotten hit by my spam filters with all the repeated "Bullshit" titles. You know I give a shit about keeping my inbox clean.

Serves him right for not being more creative.

But now I'm pretty goddamn interested in whatever shit you have going on. Regis already coming out to your new recruit? Must already trust her not to blab. And Kaidan?

Calling the goddamn Citadel “Big place!” deserves a bit of ridicule.

Full offense.

But you know damn well Regis ain’t about to be swayed by some asari bitch consort. Although I’m surprised he didn’t blast her off of him from the way you’re talking…

Oh shit, you’re the biased one now! Can’t wait to get that story out of Regis. For once, he has the real goddamn story. You have no idea how much I’m fucking laughing at you right now. Thanks for the story fuel for when I meet up for drinks with Dove later today.

Keep up the stories.

-- --

From: Regis Shepard ([email protected])

To: Zaeed Massani ([email protected])

Subject: So Fucking Goddamn Tired

I know Kaidan’s been warning you. Goddess knows why. You love my rants, don’t you? And this time, I decided to emulate you and use your typical language.

A long story short, the Council more or less laughed us off and the Spectre motherfucker that got us in this mess is your stereotypical human hating bastard and gloated the whole time. My fucking CO decided to mention my goddamn visions in the hearing, which went as well as you can imagine, for fuck’s sake. Sometimes I wonder how he got to N7 with idiotic ideas like that, and now humanity has made utter fools of ourselves thanks to him and his bullshit.

But along with a few various tasks we’ve picked up, admittedly, my CO and our human ambassador on the Citadel have given us a few leads and as long as we get actual evidence, we have a shot of meeting back with the Council over this.

So far, I’ve talked to a volus Shadow Broken agent who has led us to a Krogan merc. Urdnot Wrex ring any bells?

Not saying you know every name out there, but I’m always vying for information. Seems like a decent enough guy when he has enough credits for his work, so we’re on our way to deal with some asshole who double crossed a quarian with some information that connects our asshole Spectre to the geth.

I feel like that’s a brand-new sentence. How the hell is this my life?

Oh, and Kaidan may or may not be a little jealous of an asari consort we were able to help out. I don't know why. I looked at her like she was scum of the earth, and she kept her fucking distance from me. Did get a weird trinket from her. Some kind of retro-futuristic pendant thing? I don't know.

Talk later. I have a club to shoot up, apparently.

Regis.

#cleric's wip

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sadauroras · 1 year ago

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it's not lost on her, what it feels like following lottie again. as if she was still a teenager stuck in a body of what seemed like a tall child - never fully grown or changed. even if she worked so hard to. of course the compound wasn't actually easy to find, mari had driven past it a couple of times before she had spotted the entrance, but she wasn't interested in spending time with small talk. not when speaking with the other woman again was stirring all kinds of feelings that she thought were long buried. it was an uncomfortable feeling and she didn't know what to do with any of it.

she can't decide if she's allowed to be disappointed that lottie's been out for a while without mari knowing. she looks ... good. healed. still has the same glow that she always had. did she regret anything that they had done? did she feel any remorse? or was mari so far removed from all of this - that the thought of revisiting any of this seemed terrifying. maybe she had never moved on. never got over her and that was perhaps the only reason why she was here. but the thought felt overwelming. and most of all weak.

eyes look around the room as they walk inside, quickly realizing that her usual demeanor of confidence seemed to be slowly fading. mari straightens her posture, making sure that she looked put together while she speaks. "you look like you're doing well." she mutters, unable to stop the impulse of walking a little bit closer to lottie. as if to inspect her, to make sure she was actually alright. she had worried for so many years, even after she had stopped writing. "are you ... okay? like really. i could never tell from your letters ... if you really wanted me to write you." for years afterwards, she worried that she was coming off as too much and too desperate, constantly vying for lottie's approval.

she pushes a smile down as the other speaks, brain buzzing to ask a million questions full of so many contradicting emotions. maybe it was the approval that she was still seeking deep down that never really left mixed with the disappointment of knowing that she had spent the last twenty five years struggling without lottie, but mari wanted to know everything. "it's so weird ... seeing you again."

THE PAST ALWAYS DID HAVE A WAY OF TOYING WITH INSECURITIES and it was the same for Charlotte as well, especially now in the presence of someone who did in fact know her in such a way that she wished they didn't. But of course, that was hard to avoid given their shared history with one another and everything they'd gone through together. Mari stating that the compound was easy to find is both, relieving to a degree while also being concerning given that it was meant to be a difficult place to locate as a whole. ❝ Good. That's good. ❞ She states regardless, attempting a feigned sort of smile in the process while keeping on one of the many masks she's accumulated for herself over the years and she does it well or at least, thinks that she does. Hopes, that she does. Her focus elsewhere for the time being because she doesn't want to make it entirely known that her relationship with this newcomer is someone she recognizes in full. It saves them both the trouble of having to explain much to the others that surround them should questions arise, even though she knows that eventually, they will. For now, she just wants it to appear as if they are newly acquainted, for Mari's sake mostly but also, for herself as well. She knows too that she will have to explain this to the other in full at a later point, but for now, she hopes this will be enough while leading her into Charlotte's more private office which, isn't too far off. But of course, Mari's latter statement does provide some cause for concern if only because, she has a lot to say on the matter and thankfully, they are out of earshot for the time being. ❝ It's been a while. ❞ A conclusion that she knows, requires more explanation, which would come in due time as they spoke further. A quick few nods in the direction of others and she's soon leading Mari into an enclosed room that would allow them some privacy. Once the door is shut, she locks it behind her with a key before slipping that same key into the pocket of her caftan. Heavy sigh of breath leaving her as she clasps both hands together, as if with some relief while taking a few steps forward towards a simple looking desk.

❝ Apologies, I just… ❞ she just didn't want to speak about her past in front of everyone else around them. A slight hesitation in her tone now when she looks towards Mari again, ❝ in truth, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to reach out or not. Your last letter was… disconcerting, to say the least. But I understood and the fact you kept in contact for as long as you did, was always, very much appreciated. ❞

#healiotrope #interactions: mari.#queue.

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ptersparkers · 3 years ago

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do you think you could write something where you and aaron have just moved into the neighborhood and live across a sorority or something where girls hit on aaron? and you’re affected by it at first until you realize Aaron doesn’t care about them but you overhear them thinking he’s gonna cheat on you but he does something that basically makes them embarrassed when they try to decide him hahah im sorry did this make any sense

the self indulgent side of my came out in this one. also aaron 100% has dilf energy in this <3

***

A large two-story house sits in the middle of the block with a white picketed fence and a welcoming exterior. The cobblestone on the walkway leads from the sidewalk to the front yard, where the newly renovated space is decorated with greenery and other complementary decor.

It’s your dream house and you bought it with the money you’ve made as a neurosurgeon.

When you met Aaron all those years ago, dating had been the last thing on your mind. You met purely because of luck. Running into Spencer (an old friend from a medical program you’d both been involved in) led to running into his teammates, and that Saturday might became much more than picking up takeout.

You still aren’t sure how you caught Aaron’s attention. Spencer told you Aaron’s got a habit of professionalism and remaining stoic for the most part. At the time, you don’t think Aaron’s your type and you left it at that.

But he had asked Spencer to put in a good word with you, shocking both you and Spencer. Despite your reservations about dating because of medical training and other commitments, you gave in.

Aaron’s been the easiest person to be with. He understands your hectic schedule because of his own line of work and understands that there will be times when neither of you are able to prioritize the relationship for a few days.

And it works. It works so well that Aaron asked you to marry him.

This house is on a property you’d bought when the both of you first decided to move into a house instead of Aaron’s large apartment. Years of savings (we well as publishing rights, conferences for your method, and your general salary) allowed you to purchase land and build your dream house in your dream neighborhood.

The both of you moved in six months ago with no hiccups. A few boxes have been left unopened but for the most part, you’ve stuck to decorating the interior in your free time. You keep to yourself mostly, letting Aaron do the mingling with your neighbors and introducing yourself when necessary. But everyone here seems to be friendly and they seem to love the two of you. You’ve got everything you could ever want. A loving husband, a thrilling career, and your dream home.

You have to remind yourself of that when three young women sublease the rooms in the house across your street.

They’re young, pretty, and far too interested in your husband than you’d care for.

Poor Aaron doesn’t know what you mean when you ask him if you think those girls are spending too much time in small bikinis in their driveway and front yard, washing cars or sunbathing where he could see. Aaron had been truthful when he told you he wasn’t aware that they were out for some of the day and you know his eyes don’t wander, yet it doesn’t quell your worries.

But you know these girls and their intentions. You’ve been there before, vying for the attention of a boy you had a crush on. However, the object of their affection is married. To you.

You find it disrespectful above all else.

The girls ring your doorbell just before dusk on a Friday night and the both of you are wrapped in a blanket on the couch, choosing what to order for takeout because you’re both too tired to go out and cook. You’re about to get up when Aaron tells you he’s got it. He slips from underneath you and you’re able to tell by the incessant giggling that it’s the girls from next door.

“Hi,” Girl One says.

“Can I help you?” Aaron asks quizzically.

“We’re new to the neighborhood and wanted to introduce ourselves,” Girl Two explains before they introduce their names that you don’t bother to remember.

“Just wanted to show our neighbors we care by giving out cookies,” Girl Three announces. You watch as Aaron accepts a plate of tin foil-covered cookies when she pushes it into his hands.

“Oh. Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it,” Girl Two replies.

“Well if you need anything, we live across from you in the 952 house,” Girl One says. Her voice dips and it sounds eerily seductive.

“Thanks,” Aaron says curtly before closing the door on them.

He comes back to the living room with a confused expression and holds the paper in plate in front of him. You roll your eyes when you see they’ve tucked a small handwritten card beneath the foil and pluck it out when Aaron sets the cookies onto the coffee table.

“Hey neighbor,” you read aloud. “Enjoy the cookies. You know where to find us if you want more.” You take notice of who they addressed it to and toss the card to the side, dismissing the plate in front of you. “Are they aware you have a wife?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Aaron says, pulling you onto his lap. You squeal in surprise and latch yourself onto him with your arms around his neck, his own fingers raking the sides of your body from underneath your (his) t-shirt. “I don’t want anyone else but you. I’m not looking at them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I love my hot, sexy, neurosurgeon of a wife, even if she prefers to hang out with my team over me.”

He’s uncharacteristically charming in an extremely cliche way. You see the glint in Aaron’s eyes and smack the back of his head gingerly, much to his amusement. He attaches his lips to your neck, peppering slow kisses to your sweet spots and you have a hard time trying to remember why you were so worked up in the first place.

***

It’s a hot Sunday morning when you tell Aaron you’re meeting a friend for brunch before offering to cover groceries for the week ahead. He kisses you goodbye without worry and you blow a kiss at him from your spot on the driveway before you meet your friend twenty minutes from your neighborhood.

Coming back home feels like somewhat of a nuisance when you see your neighbors barely covered in bikinis and white tops that seem to end mid-torso. But you give them credit anyway, their Jeep looks as clean as can be.

You’re somewhat mortified when Aaron meets you outside upon hearing the garage door open. The girls are not subtle with their side-eyeing and you’re aware they’d much rather stare at your husband all day than wash their car.

It doesn’t help that he’s wearing grey sweats and a tight fitting shirt either. Not even you can stop your staring and Aaron looks at you from beside the car when he catches you taking his figure from where you’re standing.

“You’re not very subtle about it either,” Aaron teases, taking the grocery bags out of your hands.

“Well, I’m your wife,” you say with a blush after having been caught despite having your relationship. “I get to stare.”

“I love it when you’re jealous, baby.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke.

“I’m not jealous.” You hold the finger with your wedding hand. “I don’t particularly enjoy these girls assuming I’m temporary, though.”

“Well you aren’t,” he reassures. “You’re Rossi’s favorite out of the two of us, so you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Speaking of Rossi, does he still need up to bring dessert for his party?”

“I scheduled to pick it up on the way to his place.”

You grab the other bags.

“Let’s go inside,” Aaron says as he gives you a quick kiss. “I’m not particularly interested in watching topless girls wash their car. Unless you want to change into a bikini and wash the Porsche?”

You smack Aaron’s shoulder but he just laughs.

***

Dave proposed a nice evening with the team and their significant others after months of being unable to plan a day where everyone was free. You aren’t sure how everyone’s schedule has aligned as perfectly as tonight’s, but you’re looking forward to seeing everyone.

Aaron’s dressed like he’s ready to break hearts and so are you. His black suit compliments your black dress and he finds it impossible to keep his hands off of you on the drive to Rossi’s.

The upscale bakery from down the block has the desserts aligned in boxes for you when the both of you pick them up. You’re dismayed when you see the girls waiting for their order as well, but you pay no mind as Aaron waits for the last box.

“He keeps looking at me whenever we’re outside,” Girl One says in a not-so-hushed tone. It’s entertaining, really. “I’m pretty sure I could convince him to cheat on his wife when she’s gone.”

The girls erupt in giggles and you do your best to keep your composure and to avoid rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time. Aaron finishes paying and the both of you resume your ride to Dave’s without a word.

“So, I’m definitely not going to cheat on you,” Aaron says between the silence. He says it so fast out of nerves that you almost miss it.

“I know,” you say when he brings your hand to his lips.

“As in, I’m quite in love with you and don’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“Baby,” you say, squeezing his hand. “I know. It’s just annoying above anything else.”

“Let’s just get to Rossi’s and have a fun night, yeah?” Aaron says.

The party was brilliant and you come home feeling as elated as ever. It’s two in the morning and you’ve had your fair share of champagne and wine, leaving Aaron the designated driver for the evening.

You get out of the car quick than Aaron does to his confusion. You make you way around the hood of the car and throw your arms around Aaron’s neck, thanking him for being the perfect date and the perfect husband. He laughs and kisses your forehead, mumbling a quick ‘I love you’ into your cheek before pulling you into the house by your hand.

Aaron’s not oblivious. He sees the light to one of their bedrooms flicker on and three faint shadows from behind the sheer curtain. He knows they’re watching the two of you and when he sees one of the girls accidentally rise above the others, he pulls you into him and holds your waist with a tight grip.

You’re pressed against the car door when Aaron puts his mouth on yours. He grips your hips and you whimper against him. It’s enough for him to pull you through the front door and into the bedroom because there’s nothing he wants to do more than make a sweet love to his wife.

Aaron just hopes the girls get the idea.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x oc #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner oneshots #aaron hotchner scenarios #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner oneshot #fem reader #aaron hotchner #my writing #ask #anonymous

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years ago

Text

Shelter From the Storm | S.R (Part 5/5)

Not my gif

Previous Part

A/N - and we’ve reached the conclusion of this crazy rollercoaster! I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

Series Summary - you and Spencer’s marriage is on the rocks when a local case has the BAU convinced Spencer is a target. Forced together into witness protection, what will happen to your marriage upon discovering your husband wasn’t a target, but in fact the killer. Spencer needs a shelter from the storm and you have to decide how far you’re willing to take the sentiment of “til death do us part.”

Pairing - Unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst and smut, happy ending (minors DNI)

Content Warnings - some cute fluff to kick things off, mentions of penetrative sex, mentions of disassociation and DID and DDD tests, therapy and antidepressants, side effects from antidepressants, mentions of depression, lowered sex drive, problems with erections and climaxing, mentions of masturbation (male), oral (male and female receiving), swearing, use sex toys - cock rings and vibrators, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, over stimulation, slight blackmailing that could end a friendship, arguing, talks of a marriage ending, small mentions of reader and Luke, goodbyes.

Word Count - 7.2k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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

Part Five (Final) - To Build a Home

You summised on the drive back to Hillsborough you would be walking into a war zone when you got home.

Spencer’s sudden change in demeanour towards Luke had been nothing more than his desperation to have Luke on side and keep his silence about Spencer’s crimes.

You were certain an argument awaited you behind that front door. It would inevitably be your fault that Luke had feelings for you. Maybe Spencer would say you’d say led him on. Maybe he’d think you’d been asking for Luke to fall for you.

You sat in the car on the driveway for several long minutes preparing yourself for a fight. You guards were up, you were ready for battle.

But when you entered the house to find Spencer reading on the couch and saw the smile he gave you when you walked through the door, your guards instantly lowered.

“You wanna do paperwork from here or do you want to go to campus?” He asked you calmly as he stood up, moving closer to you.

“I…I…” you swallowed. “Don’t do this. Don’t pretend you’re not mad. If we’re going to fight about this, please can we just get it over with?”

“What are we fighting about?” Spencer’s brow furrowed.

“Luke?” You huffed.

“You think I didn’t already know he was in love with you?” He chuckled a little. “I’m pretty certain the whole team knows.”

“Come on, Spencer.” You sighed. “Don’t pretend you aren’t angry. If you want to shout and scream now is the time to do it. Karen’s car wasn’t in her driveway so you don’t have to worry about her calling the cops.”

“I don’t want to shout and scream.” He stepped closer to you and you flinched a little. “I’m so sorry I’ve made you think that would be my reaction.”

“You’re not…you’re not mad?”

“Luke can’t help it. You’re amazing.” He shrugged. “Of course I’d prefer it if the man vying for your affection was a little less attractive but he can’t help the way he feels.”

“There’s no vying involved, Spencer. Luke isn’t competing with you for my affection. Because he knows he’d lose.”

You flinched again briefly when Spencer rested his hand on your cheek but you quickly eased into his touch.

“I can’t for the life of me fathom how anyone would choose me over Luke Alvez.” He smiled a little sadly. “But I’m so lucky that you did.”

“There was never any choice involved, Spencer. You are my one big love in this life. I know we’ve had our problems but I never once stopped loving you. And I know I never will.” You had tears in your eyes at the loving look Spencer was giving you.

It felt like such a long time since he’d looked at you like that.

“I want to be better for you, Buttercup.” He edged closer.

It was clear he wanted to kiss you but he hesitated. He was waiting for your ok, for the green light. That in itself showed you he was changing, becoming more the man you fell in love with.

“Just kiss me already, Spence.”

He didn’t need to be told twice and in an instant he succumbed himself to you.

His kiss was soft and almost tentative, much like they had been in the early days of you dating before you’d slept together for the first time.

He held your face gently in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck in kind. He didn’t make a move to speed things along, he didn’t try and make the kiss anymore than what it was.

Of course it eventually led to the bedroom but more on your instance than his.

Your love making was soft and patient. It was kind and forgiving. He held your hand while he made love to you and kept his eyes open the whole time.

He whispered I love yous as he came and after he drew you in for a warm embrace.

And you didn’t think you’d ever loved him more than you did in that moment.

***

The week passed painfully slowly as you continued to try and carry on as normal in the wake of recent events.

You got a call from a withheld phone number Friday evening, Luke calling from a burner phone he’d procured.

The team had just landed back from a case in Miami but he would be able to meet you and Spencer at Womack the following day.

Of course you didn’t mention to the doctor about what Spencer had really been doing in his times of disassociation. You explained his trigger and how it turned him into a completely different person and the blackouts he was experiencing.

Spencer was subjected to a lot of tests. He was put through a CAPS assessment, a clinical assessment of pragmatics that uses video scenes of people in real social situations to assess his ability to understand pragmatic clues.

He was asked all about his life, his childhood, his marriage and most importantly, prison.

He was asked probing questions such as, “Have there been times when you felt as if you were outside of your body, watching yourself as if you were another person?” Or “Have there been times when things going on around you seemed unreal or very strange and unfamiliar?”

More often than not, his answers were resounding yeses.

After hours of tests, Luke’s friend Doctor Patel determined Spencer to be suffering from depersonalisation-derealisation disorder.

He explained to the two of you that DDD was a condition where individuals have recurrent experiences of feeling detached from themselves as though they are observing their own thoughts and actions like an outsider.

It included feelings of lacking reality in their own actions and seeing a distorted version of the world.

He went on to explain these symptoms can cause significant problems in relationships and other important areas of an individual's life.

Doctor Patel told you both he thought the best course of action for Spencer was psychotherapy. He wanted Spencer to return to Womack twice a week and speak with a specialised therapist.

He would be required to speak openly and honestly about his disorder and the events surrounding his dissociative break. The idea was through talking Spencer would be able to understand the cause of condition and find new ways of coping with the stress and trauma he developed in prison.

He wasn’t going to be forced to talk about what happened to him in prison but Patel warned him that over time his therapist might want to delve into it. But only once the coping skills and his relationship with his therapist was strong enough for it to be safe to discuss.

Doctor Patel also prescribed a strong dose of antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication to help control the mental health symptoms associated with his disorder.

If psychotherapy didn’t work he assured you both that there were other options. Hypnosis has been documented to aid DDD sufferers as well as Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, Dialectical Behaviour Therapy which teaches new skills to help manage emotions and even Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing which utilises CBT strategies alongside visual exercises to help reduce psychological stress.

It was hard to say which one of you was more relieved when you left Doctor Patel’s office several hours later.

Luke stood and stretched his aching limbs from sitting on the hard plastic waiting room chair when you both headed his way.

Spencer immediately threw himself into Luke’s arms, taking the older man back a little.

For a second he stood frozen with his arms at his side before loosening up and returning Spencer’s embrace.

“Thank you, Luke.” Spencer was crying as he hugged Luke tightly. “Thank you so much.”

Luke made eye contact with you over Spencer’s shoulder as they hugged. You offered Luke a shrug and a smile in response.

Soon after you parted ways with Luke as he has a long drive back to DC. He promised to keep you updated on your WITSEC status and assured you the best thing you could do was to continue as normal until the director saw fit to extract you.

And thus began the waiting game. Neither of you knew how long it would be until you were reunited with your team and allowed to go home.

But at least for the first time in a long time, there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

***

You read somewhere once that just because it’s stormy now, rain never lasts forever.

Right now you would have to vehemently disagree with that.

Just when you’d thought the calm was approaching, another storm took root.

Antidepressants were kicking Spencer’s ass and by proxy, your ass too.

For the first few weeks, Spencer got dramatically worse before he got better. His erratic nature as of late had given way to debilitating depression, to the point he couldn’t get out of bed some days and rarely went to work anymore.

Which made maintaining a routine extremely difficult.

But Spencer didn’t care, he didn’t care much about anything. He spent his days in bed, either sobbing or staring blankly at the wall.

He didn’t talk much to you, he didn’t do much of anything. You always made sure he had food but he rarely ate, he wasn’t keeping himself hydrated.

He told you one day he felt like he was just flatlining, like he’d completely lost his grip on his own emotions.

Slowly he started getting better, started going back to work but he wasn’t the same. He’d gone from overly emotional to devoid of emotion almost over night.

He started experiencing dizzy spells and bouts of nausea. Sometimes he told you his vision would blur out of nowhere.

After about six weeks, the side effects started winding down.

He didn’t cry but he didn’t smile. He didn’t have highs or lows, he just walked a line in between happiness and sadness.

You were both struggling as it was but then then the one thing you could usually count, your sex life, took a nose dive.

His meds lowered his sex drive to begin with but when the two of you tried to be intimate Spencer either wasn’t able to maintain an erection or he just couldn’t come.

And it aggravated him to no end. Sex with you was Spencer’s way of getting out of his own head, it took his mind off of things and allowed him a much needed release.

But without the release he was climbing the walls.

He masturbated furiously, desperate to be able to let go the way only coming would allow. It was becoming painful, physically and mentally. Some days he’d stand in the shower and jerk off for so long his dick hurt after.

But he still didn’t orgasm.

Combined with the medication he was seeing a therapist twice a week which might have been helping in the long run but was destroying him in the present.

To have to admit his entire life had been turned upside down by one man who had chosen Spencer to be his sexual release. The one, ironically, Spencer couldn’t get himself now.

He wanted it to not frustrate him as much as it did. You always told him it was ok, but it never felt ok.

A few times you’d been having sex for hours and he knew you were sore and that you couldn’t keep going but he just continued to fuck you, desperate to be able to empty himself.

It wasn’t enjoyable anymore, it made sex feel like a chore. Eventually you would whisper to him that you couldn’t carry on any longer and he would have to admit defeat.

It made him angry. It made him frustrated. But at least in those instances he’d been able to keep his dick up. The times he went flaccid with no warning were the worst.

It happened the first time when you were going down on him and he’d gone soft in your mouth. He would never forget the sadness in your eyes as you looked up at him from your knees.

It happened again during sex. He’d been hard one minute, pounding into you, and the next he was completely soft.

He knew you understood it was side effects of his medication but the look of hurt in your eyes made him worry you thought it was about you.

If he was in a better headspace he might have dispelled those thoughts. If he had more patience and less anger he might have taken the time to tell you it was absolutely nothing to do with you.

He’d never had a difficult time getting hard around you. As embarrassing as it was to admit even before the two of you were together that had never been an issue.

The amount of times he’d had to hide the tent pitching in his pants just from a look you gave him or a touch on his arm that lasted too long, was astounding. He still didn’t know how he’d gotten away with it for so long.

But now he struggled keeping his goddamn uncooperative dick hard. And it wasn’t at all fair on him or you.

It had been coming up to ten weeks since he’d first seen Doctor Patel and Spencer felt…he didn’t even know. He didn’t feel good or bad. He felt mostly numb.

You hated seeing him like this. You hated not being able to help him.

So you channeled your husband and found yourself thinking: what would Spencer Reid do?

What would Spencer Reid do? He’d research.

So that’s exactly what you did. You used his laptop while he was asleep one night and looked up articles to give you a better understanding of what he was going through.

And a plan formulated in your head.

You felt proud of yourself as you drove you and Spencer off campus that Friday afternoon with no intentions of heading back to the suburbs.

It wasn’t until you were on the freeway that Spencer looked up from his book with a frown.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” You smiled to yourself and didn’t say anymore on the matter.

***

Spencer looked around the luxurious hotel room you’d booked in confusion. He scratched the back of his head as he took in the plush four poster bed, jacuzzi style bath and all the little gold embellishments that decorated the room.

“Why are we here?” He glanced at you, the picture of confusion.

You smiled at him and took hold of his hand, leading him to one of the velvet lined couches.

“I know this has been hard for you, baby.” You kept hold of his hand once you were sitting down. “It’s really important we talk about it though.”

He swallowed hard, knowing what you meant.

“I don’t think talking is going to help me…help me come.” He sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” You ignored him, giving his hand a squeeze. “And it isn’t the be all and end all. I know you want to come baby, but sex can be just as much about the journey as the end destination.”

“That’s easy for you to say, when you’re the one coming.” He sighed.

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?” He frowned.

“Humour me?” You pleaded.

He rolled his eyes but then he let his lids flutter closed. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Now what?”

“Picture us together, in bed, back before all this happened.” You squeezed his knee. “Remember how our sex life used to be? How we could spend hours on end pleasuring each other without having sex?”

A sharp intake of air graced Spencer’s lips and you could already see a twitching in his pants.

“What did you like me doing to you, Spence? What things did I do that drove you wild?”

He screwed up the fabric of his slacks in his hands, inhaling loudly again.

“For starters,” he whispered, eyes still closed. “It really drives me wild when you call me Doctor.”

“Ok, Doctor.” You smiled to yourself. “What else?”

His dick was starting to harden in his pants and you knew he was thinking about something.

“There was that one time on a case, I was particularly wound up by a suspect and you pulled me into the police department file room to calm me down.”

Your smile grew, remembering that day well, from your early days of dating.

“Hmm, I remember.” You removed his hands from his thighs and placed yours there instead. “I couldn’t get you to calm down with my words, you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“No.” He was panting slightly. “You…you just fucking dropped to your knees in front of me and took my cock in your mouth.” He moaned as he spoke, rocking a little on the couch.

“I sucked you off real good, didn’t I?”

“Fuck,” he gasped, moving his hand to palm himself through his slacks. “It was the best fucking blow job I’ve had in my life. I came in like two minutes.”

You helped Spencer undo his slacks and encouraged him to take hold of his shaft.

His eyes shot open and landed on you.

You smiled at him and took him by the wrist, pulling him to his feet again. While he was standing you helped him out of his slacks and underwear while he stared dumbly at you.

“Take your shirt off.” You laughed at his deer in headlights look.

He nodded, fumbling with his buttons while you removed your dress.

Underneath the fabric you wore the most sinful red lacy bra and panties, which Spencer noticed immediately had the crotch cut out of them.

He was still just staring when you led him over to the bed and laid him back against the pillows.

He watched from the bed as you moved back to your purse on the floor and soon joined him on the bed with two items from your bag.

One he’d seen before, your lilac coloured vibrator that Spencer had actually gifted to you one Valentines Day because he loved to watch you pleasure yourself.

The other was a blue circular device he’d never seen before but it didn’t take a genius to ascertain what it was.

You knelt over him, the second device in your hand.

“I assume you know what this is?” You held it up in his eyeline.

“A…a c-cock ring.”

“Well done, Doctor.” You smiled at him.

Your free hand wrapped around his shaft, keeping your eyes on him.

“Can I?”

“Y-yes…please.” He nodded, gnawing on his lip.

You were cautious in your movements in case he changed his mind. You pushed the ring over the head of his cock, making him hiss a little, and continued until it was snug around the base of his shaft.

“Ready, baby?” You stroked back his hair.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” He mumbled, nodding frantically.

You laughed lightly while you clicked the device on.

Spencer gasped loudly as the vibrations pulsed through his dick. It hadn’t been unexpected, what was unexpected was how amazing it felt.

You sat back at the other end of the bed and parted your legs, Spencer’s eyes immediately landing between them.

You played with your own toy in your hands as Spencer whined and moaned at the feeling of his.

“Are you going to…please?” He whimpered.

“If you insist, Doctor.” You switched on the device and carefully dragged it down your body towards your core.

Spencer’s face was already flushed bright red and he was screwing the sheets up in his hands.

The vibrations were reverberating through his entire body and he moaned so loudly when you pressed the tip of the vibrator against yourself.

“Please.” He whined desperately.

“Please what, Doctor?” You smirked.

“Fuck,” he whined again. “Please fuck yourself with that goddamn toy.”

He brought one hand to his shaft and started stroking himself as the vibrations continued to ripple through him.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You slowly inserted the tip of the vibrator but it didn’t take you long at all to push it all the way inside of you.

Spencer watched slack jawed as you moved it in and out of yourself, slowly fucking yourself with it.

“How does it feel?” He panted, eyes stuck between your legs.

“It feels fucking amazing.” Your voice shuddered with the vibrations. “But it’s nowhere near good as your cock, Spencer.”

He moaned deeply, closing his eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them again.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, the cock ring making his whole body feel as though it was on fire. “You have the perfect pussy for fucking, Buttercup. Nice and tight for me, always squeezing around me dick…”

He trailed off as he moaned again.

You dove the vibrator deeper inside of you and started fucking yourself with it harder.

“What about my mouth, Doctor Reid? You’ve always loved my mouth.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He whined. “Your mouth is fucking phenomenal. The way you suck cock should be illegal.”

“Fucking hell.” Your head rolled back to your shoulder blades. “How do you feel, baby?”

“Incredible.” He moaned, his strokes becoming lazy.

He swore he could feel his whole body tingling, from his head to his toes. And the sight of you pleasuring yourself with a toy he brought you was out of this world hot.

“Work your cock just like I would.” Your voice was breathy and your legs trembled with the vibrations.

“Oh god, no one could work my cock like you do, sweetheart. Your perfect tiny little hands make my cock look so fucking big.”

“You cock is so fucking big, Doctor.” You laughed a little but it turned into a moan.

“Oh god, Y/N, I need to feel you.” He whined desperately.

“All in g-good time baby.” Your body wracked with tremors, causing your voice to pitch.

“Aren’t these things supposed to…supposed to…hold off an orgasm?” He pumped himself harder as the ring worked its magic.

“Why?”

“Because I feel like I’m gonna…” he panted heavily. “Like I might actually…”

A moan ripped straight from his lungs and Spencer came, shooting his load over his stomach and chest.

His whole body melted at the sensation he’d been so desperate for.

He looked up at you through hazy eyes.

“God fucking damn.” He exhaled. “That was…fuck.”

The ring continued to vibrate around him but he didn’t make a move to take it off. The overstimulation was dizzying and he wanted to make it last a moment or two longer.

And he had other things to take care of.

He lunged towards you, taking the vibrator from your hand and taking control of its movements. He bowed his head and lapped his tongue over your throbbing clit while he worked the device in and out of you.

He moaned against your cunt as the ring continued to vibrate. Thanks to the ring, his cock stayed hard while he worked on bringing you to your orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit.” You moaned loudly, the double stimulation coating your brain in a thick fog.

Spencer tongue swirled a licked at your sensitive nub while the toy's vibrations sent you spiralling towards your own orgasm.

When you came you screamed your husband's name, screwing up the bedsheets with your free hand.

He continued licking you through your orgasm while you whined as you removed the toy, tossing it aside.

When Spencer sat back and pulled your legs around his waist, you whined again but that was nothing compared to the noises you made when he entered you.

The walls shook with your moans, especially when Spencer was all the way inside of you and you could feel the vibration from the cock ring pulsing against you.

“Holy shit.” You grabbed his face and kissed him messily.

“You can feel that?” He spoke into your lips.

“Ya huh.” You nibbled his bottom lip. “Jesus Christ.”

“Tell me about it.” Spencer moved his lips from yours to your neck and started sucking deep marks into your skin.

“Don’t move. Just stay like that.” You gripped his biceps, keeping him close.

Spencer only moved to grind against you, pressing the ring against your overly sensitive core. The vibrations travelled up his cock and you felt them inside of you.

The small ministrations of his hips were enough for you to start clawing at his back and whining into his hair as he continued sucking your neck.

Every now again he would pull back a little and dive back in, and in barely any time at all you were both coming again.

Both of your second orgasms were even more intense than the first, you practically shoved Spencer back from you unable to take anymore stimulation.

He pulled out and rolled down next to you at the end of the bed, panting and sweating.

“Get this off me please.” He whimpered, his body spasming and his cock still rock hard due to the ring.

With shaky arms you leant over and turned the device off, guiding it gently off his shaft.

He closed his eyes and wiped his sweaty brow with his hand.

“That was…I can’t even…”

“I know.” You agreed, resting your head on his shoulder as you were unable to move any further.

“You are the best goddamn wife in the whole world.” He tilted his head to place a kiss in your hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Hmm.” You were falling asleep and Spencer didn’t want to wake you to move you under the covers so he wrapped his arms around you instead.

And soon, overstimulated but sated, you both fell asleep.

***

Two days after you arrived back from your impromptu trip you got a call from Luke on a withheld number.

You’d just finished your first class of the day and hurried to answer it as you were packing away your things.

“Luke,” you breathed down the line. “Is everything ok?”

“Not exactly.” He sighed as he spoke. “Where was Spencer last night?”

You leant against the desk, frowning.

“At home, with me. Why?”

There was a pause and you heard Luke’s deep breathing down the line.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “He was there when I fell asleep and he was there when I woke up. What’s this about, Luke?”

Again there was a moment of silence and your heart started racing.

“There was another body found this morning in Northern Virginia. Ex con Joseph Macklin who did time for child molestation, throat cut.”

“No.” You shook your head. “No. He was home with me! I would have noticed if he left!”

“Y/N, there’s more.” Luke’s voice was low and croaky as if he hadn’t slept.

That combined with his words made your stomach turn.

“What?” You held your breath.

“There was a fingerprint in blood on the victim's clothing. It’s still being processed.”

No. No, no, no. This can not be happening.

Your heart was beating dramatically against your rib cage and all the air felt as though it had vanished from your lungs.

You stared straight ahead, gripping the phone so tightly in your hand it could very well shatter into dust.

You couldn’t speak. No words in the English language could possibly help this situation.

“Y/N?” Luke spoke again after you were silent. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes.”

You’d been through so much since Spencer’s arrest. After everything you finally felt as though things were looking up. Spencer’s meds and his therapy had really helped and for the first time since Emily had dropped the bomb of Spencer’s arrest in Mexico, you’d actually been happy.

But there was only so much you could take.

“What happens if it’s Spencer’s?”

“It’s out of my control. The print is being analysed by Virginia CSI. If it’s Spencer’s…”

“He’s going back to prison.” Your ears filled with tears but you were desperate to not let them fall.

You’d hidden a body for him. You’d cleaned up a crime scene and stolen security tapes to keep him out of prison again.

And now he’d gone and done something as stupid as leaving a fingerprint behind?

“I wish there was something I could do, Y/N. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thanks.” You croaked. “Luke, this will probably be the last time we speak.”

“What? Why?” You could hear the confusion in his voice.

“I’m not going to wait until the cops are knocking down our door. Spencer and I need to leave.”

“How do you plan on doing that? You can’t exactly use your passports and you think your WITSEC agent isn’t going to notice if you just up and leave?”

“We can’t just stay here and wait, Luke! I can’t let him go back to prison.” You pushed yourself off the desk and started to pace.

“Have you ever stopped to think this isn’t your problem? This was all Reid’s doing, he needs to take responsibility for his actions.” Luke huffed a little.

“He wasn’t even conscious of his actions Luke!” You groaned. “You might not be able to help with the print but there is something you can help with.”

“No.” Luke shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “No Y/N, I’m done. I can’t get involved anymore.”

“You will help me Luke Alvez or so help me god.” You clenched your jaw. “You almost broke up my marriage you son of bitch so you’re damn we’ll going to help me, ok?”

“You really have changed.” Luke growled. “Fine, I’ll help you one last time but only if it means I never have to see you or your sick, twisted husband ever again.”

“Fine by me.” You countered. “You need to get Spencer and me new passports, and don’t even try and tell me you can’t. I heard all the stories from your time on the fugitive task force, you and Phil always had one foot out the door, ready to flee at any second. I know you know someone who can get us passports.”

You could practically see Luke’s facial expression. His jaw would be set, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils slightly flared.

The last thing you wanted to do was destroy your friendship with the man who had helped you through the worst three months of your life. But you had no choice. Spencer came first.

“Fine.” He spat, knowing arguing was futile endeavour. “I know a guy who works fast but it’s going to cost you.”

“Not an issue.” You were quick to say.

“I’ll be in Frank’s parking lot tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “Give me until midnight.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.” He sounded incredulous. “Just know this has cost you much more than money.”

And with that, the line went dead.

You might have cared. Might have. But the only thing you could think of was keeping Spencer safe.

That was all that mattered.

***

You decided not to fill Spencer in until you were in the comfort of your own home.

You were so fucking angry he’d put you in this position again you actually feared you would run your car off the road.

He knew something was bothering you though despite the calm exterior you presented. And it wasn’t anything to do with his profiling skills.

He’d found that you didn’t need to be a profiler to know exactly what your other half was thinking. It was something about all the time you spent together in close proximity, learning each other’s body language and verbal cues.

Your back was straight in the driver seat and usually you were much more slouchy when you drove. Your anger manifested like rods in your body, keeping your limbs straight and a little rigid.

You were periodically chewing on your bottom lip which was only something you did when you had something on your mind.

Your nails drummed against the steering wheel which Spencer knew meant you were agitated.

He would ask you what was wrong only he was scared of the answer. Things between the two of you had been really good lately and he couldn’t work out what would be bothering you.

You parked in the drive and exited the car seemingly before you’d even shut off the engine and Spencer watched from the passenger's seat as you headed towards the house.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe, knowing a fight waited for him in that house.

Eventually he let himself out of the car and padded towards the house. You’d left the front door open and he closed it behind him.

He could hear you in the kitchen clattering about putting the dishes from the drying rack away but you were making a lot more noise than was strictly necessary.

He wrecked his brain trying to think of what he could have possibly done but came up empty.

With a final deep breath he pushed open the kitchen door and stepped inside.

“Are you going to tell me what I’ve done wrong or do I have to guess?” Spencer’s voice was meek and a little shaky.

You had your back to him, placing some plates in the cupboard and his voice made your back go rigid.

Slowly you turned around to face him and he swore he saw steam coming out of your ears.

“Where did you go last night, Spencer?” Your voice was surprisingly calm and even but Spencer knew well enough that it was only that way when you were extremely mad.

“Uh…nowhere?” He frowned in confusion.

“You sure about that, Spencer?” You stepped closer to him a little and he hated the way you said his name.

“Pretty sure.” He took a step back. “I fell asleep next to you and I woke up next to you.”

“I thought the medication was working!” You suddenly slammed your hands on the counter, causing Spencer to jump a little. “I thought the therapy was working!”

“It is…Y/N, what is going on?” He dared to come closer to you.

“Luke called me. There was another body found in Northern Virginia this morning. An ex con with his throat cut. And they found a fingerprint in blood.”

Your words felt like they were boulders, crashing into him and knocking all the air from his lungs.

It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t remember killing someone. But he was sure he hadn’t gone anywhere last night.

“I…I don’t think I did that.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“Yeah well, there’s a lot you don’t remember recently. So I think it’s entirely plausible you did do this.” You spat.

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “Usually I remember the bleach. I remember pieces of things. I didn’t…I couldn’t.”

“I find that hard to believe, quite frankly.” You grit your teeth. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, Spencer. It is killing me trying to protect you! I buried a fucking body for you! I can’t do it again.”

“What are you saying?” Spencer swallowed.

“The fingerprint is being analysed as we speak. If it’s yours, you’re going to jail.”

“No. I am not going back there.” He flared his nostrils.

“This is the last time I’m helping you.” You practically growled. “I all but destroyed my friendship with Luke today. For you. He’s getting us passports, I’m going to collect them tonight. I will help you leave the country but then we are going our separate ways.

I can’t be a part of this anymore, Spencer, but I’m implicated now. You implicated me when I had to help you clean up the janitor’s murder. And because of that I have to leave my life and my friends behind.

We’ll leave the country but not together. I am well and truly done. I’m out. It’s over. We are through.”

He watched you remove your wedding ring and place it on the counter before you pushed past him on your way out of the room.

Spencer knew he couldn’t fight you on this. You’d already done so much for him, too much for him, he couldn’t blame you for being done.

He could only blame himself.

***

Luke was already in the parking lot of Frank’s when you pulled up. When he saw you arrive he switched off the engine and slid out the car onto the gravel.

Even though it was dark, he noticed instantly that you weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

“Did you get them?” You didn’t waste any time.

“We need to talk first.” Luke folded his arm over his chest.

“I don’t want to talk, Luke. I’m tired of talking. I’m tired of everything. Please just give me the passports so I can leave.”

“Why are you still so hell bent on helping him when you don’t even want to be married to him?” He nodded his head toward your hand.

“Love is complicated Luke.” You huffed.

“Don’t I know it.” He scoffed, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “Would it make any difference if I told you I really don’t want you to go?”

“It might.” You shrugged. “So please don’t say it.”

“He’s the one who fucked up here, Y/N, not you. You shouldn’t have to do this. Let him go. Stay here. With me.” Luke reached for you and you let him.

You let him pull you close to his body and you rested your head on his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around you.

“I wish it was that simple, Luke. But I’ve done things too, I’ve helped cover for him. I’m in this Luke, I could go to prison. So I can’t stay.”

He cupped your jaw and tilted your head so he could look at you.

And this time there was no mistaking who made the first move.

You gripped Luke’s jacket collar and pulled him close to you, crashing your lips together.

Luke whimpered a little at the feeling, kissing you back for longer than he should have before he gently guided you away.

“Don’t do this.” He shook his head sadly. “If you’re not going to be with me then you need to just let me go.”

“I’m sorry.” You stepped back from him. “I swear to god my life would have been so much easier if it was you I married.”

“If you’d married me I would never have you questioning your feelings for me, I know that much.” Luke smiled sadly.

“You’re just about the best guy I know, Luke Alvez. But I’m not the big love of your life ok? You might think I am now, but one day you’re going to meet someone who makes your feelings for me pale in comparison.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well, sure with that attitude you won’t.” You nudged him in the arm.

“You know I never wanted to be the guy that falls in love with his friend's wife, right? This was never my intention.”

“I know.” You whispered. “And I never wanted to be the woman who fell in love with two men. But uh…I really am going to need those passports.”

Luke sighed, chewing on his lip a little guiltily.

“There are no passports, Y/N.”

You stepped back, frowning at him.

“What? You promised! What the hell am I supposed to do now?” You raised your voice a little.

Luke ran his fingers through his hair.

“There are no passports, because you don’t need them.” He stepped closer to you and you let him. “The fingerprint came back to a drug dealer and wife beater named Randall Simms. He’s being charged with all of Spencer’s murders.”

Tears instantly welled in your eyes as you stared at Luke in confusion.

“I…we…but…” you choked as a few tears overflowed. “It’s over?”

“Yeah.” Luke chuckled a little. “It’s ok, Y/N. You’re being extracted from WITSEC in the morning.”

Huge sobs wracked your body and your legs gave out, causing you to collapse on the ground.

Luke was soon at your side, cradling you in his arms.

You cried for a long time about everything that had happened to you since Spencer’s arrest and Luke held you all the while.

When you finally finished sobbing you looked up at him and stroked his cheek.

“Maybe there’s a chance for us after all.” You whispered.

Luke helped you to your feet with a sad smile.

“No, Y/N, there isn’t. Regardless of what happens with you and Spencer now, I’m taking myself out of this fucked it situation. You think you want to be with me because it’ll be easier. And it probably would be. But you would never love me the way you love him and I have more self respect than to be anyone's second choice. You and I were fated to only ever be a fantasy, Y/N.”

“I hate it when you’re right.” You rolled your eyes. “I hate him sometimes, I really hate him. But even when he’s the cause of my storm, he’s always been my shelter.”

“Go home to your husband, Y/N. Tell him the good news. And I’ll see you really soon.” Luke briefly touched your cheek before stepping away from you.

You watched him retreat to his car before returning to your own.

***

You found Spencer in his room surrounded by case files laid out on the floor.

“Uh…you’ve been working since we’ve been here?” You asked, hovering in the doorway.

“Not exactly.” he didn’t look at you. “I found them when we left the house in Virginia. There is a file in here on every man I killed. I think it was like some kind of kill list for me. I don’t even know where I got them.”

“We need to burn them.” you stepped into the room. “When WITSEC extracts us tomorrow we can’t leave behind any evidence.”

Spencer finally looked up at you.

“What?”

You offered him a small smile as you came to sit on the floor next to him.

“The new victim, it wasn’t you. They matched the print to a known dealer, a real nasty piece of work. Due to the similar MO he’ll be taking the fall for all the murders.”

He stared at you wide eyed like a small child.

“S-seriously?” he croaked.

“Seriously. We can go home Spencer. We can get our life back.”

“We?” he questioned with a slight hint of annoyance to his voice.

“Yes, we. You and me. I wish I could walk away sometimes, I really do. I sometimes think we’d both be better off without each other. I wish walking away from you was as easy as it sounds. But I want us to make things work and get back to the way we used to be. We were so happy once and I think with some work we can get back there.”

Suddenly Spencer was throwing his arms around you and pulling you close to him as he started to sob.

“I love you so much, Buttercup.” He cried. “I promise you and I are going to be ok, we’re going to make this work.”

“I love you too, Spence.” You held him tightly as your own tears started to fall.

You hoped this was the last of it. You hoped to god that once you and Spencer were back home you could put this mess behind you and start fresh.

You would always love this man, that much you knew for sure. Hopefully love was enough.

***

It had been close to nine months since the last time you’d stepped foot in the BAU office.

You and Spencer rode the elevator up hand in hand, silence filling the space around you.

Why were you so nervous? Why did it feel like a whole lifetime had passed since you’d last been here?

Spencer was clearly feeling the same as he tapped his fingers on his free hand on his thighs, his eyes not settling on one spot for longer than a few seconds.

He periodically squeezed your hand but you knew it was more to calm himself if anything.

Adam and Izzy Atwood had decided the suburbs weren’t for them. They’d said goodbye to their nosy neighbour Karen, who seemed happy to see the backs of them, and quit their jobs at Duke to move back to the city.

Your parting words to your former bitch of a neighbour was to tell her that her husband was sticking it to one of the neighbours.

It was unnecessary, sure, but watching her stupid, shocked face in the rear view mirror as you drove away from Hellsborough for the final time was damn near perfect.

Spencer gave your hand another squeeze, bringing you back to reality just as the elevator chugged to a halt.

You held your breath as the doors sprung open and the two of you headed for the doors to the BAU.

The team stood in the middle of the bullpen, smiles on faces and tears in some eyes.

There was a large cake and “Welcome Home” banners all over the place, no doubt Penelope’s doing.

She was the first to greet you both, pulling the two of you into the tightest embrace known to man.

“Oh my gosh!” She sobbed. “It’s really you! It’s been so long, I missed you both so much!”

One by one the rest of the team greeted you back. You had to pretend you hadn’t been seeing Luke frequently, and despite the fact you’d only seen him last night you still sobbed when he hugged you.

“I missed you.” He whispered into your ear and you knew he meant it.

“Missed you too, Alvez.” You squeezed him, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

“You have no idea how good it is to see your faces.” Emily was beaming, welcoming you both back with hugs and slices of cake.

This was where you belonged. There was absolutely no doubt in your mind that this was your home.

These people were your family. Rossi was like a father to you while Emily, Tara, Penelope and JJ were your sisters. Matt was the closest thing you had to a brotherly figure and Luke…well Luke had his own special place in your heart.

The team regaled you with everything you’d missed over the last nine months while you ate cake and in return told them about the misery of Hillsborough.

You knew all was not well though. You knew your husband well enough to know he wasn’t happy.

The spark was missing from his eyes, the enthusiasm gone from his voice.

This was your home, but was it still his? After everything he’d been through, could he still call the BAU home?

The slightly vacant look in his eyes as he tried to force a smile while he listened to the team chat told you enough.

This wasn’t a safe space for Spencer anymore. He didn’t feel like a part of the team, a part of the family any longer.

But if Spencer couldn’t make a home at the BAU anymore, where did that leave you?

You knew from that moment that Spencer was never going to be truly happy working in the FBI again, but wondered how long it would be until he reached breaking point.

***

It was two weeks later when Spencer took a sick day when you knew he wasn’t sick, that you went to work with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

He’d struggled settling back in, trying to keep himself out of the field as much as possible and carrying his service weapon as little as possible.

He barely interacted with anyone, always looking as though he had something on his mind.

Life had never been good to Spencer Reid but you’d hoped in coming back to the BAU and having your lives back would help Spencer settle back into normality.

Maybe the truth was, he didn’t know what normality was anymore.

Your marriage was still on shaky ground. You’d both tried which was more than you could say for Spencer before all this had happened.

He was trying, he was making an effort. Maybe it was you who wasn’t so willing to try this time.

It was possible that Spencer wasn’t your shelter, wasn’t your home. You were so exhausted from trying to keep the two of you together that you just weren’t sure you could fight it anymore.

Maybe home isn’t always where the heart is.

You were reading over a case file when you heard Emily pass by towards her office. You heard the door open and close but seconds later it opened again.

You looked up, expecting her to announce you had a case. She was looking right at you, holding a sheet of paper in her hand.

She walked back towards you and the sinking feeling in your gut only got deeper.

She came over to your desk and you stood from your chair, your eyebrows drawn into a frown.

“He told you he was sick?” Emily sighed as she spoke.

“Yeah.”

You already knew. You knew before Emily handed you the sheet of paper what it was going to say.

You knew before you saw your husband's chicken scratch adorned on the page, exactly what his words would say.

Emily,

I’m sorry to do this in a letter and not to your face but honestly, I can’t bear to see the look in your eyes when I say what I’ve got to say.

I know you would try and talk me out of this and you may very well succeed, but I can’t let you change my mind. I have to do this.

When I walk into the BAU later tonight to leave this letter on your desk, it will be my last time passing through those doors.

So much has happened to me in my life, especially the last couple of years and it’s led me to question everything in my life.

I don’t believe I am equipped to be an FBI officer anymore, I probably should have never come back after prison if truth be told. Since my arrest I’ve not been the same and honestly I don’t think I ever will be. But I am certainly not in the right frame of mind to continue at the BAU.

The past fourteen years with the team have been the best of my life. I’ve been so lucky to work with each and every single one of you.

You’ve always been like a big sister to me, always having my back and looking out for me when no one else did. You taught me a lot about myself and I wouldn’t be the man I am today without having had the privilege of working with you.

Jennifer - you are my best friend in the whole world. We’ve gone on this crazy journey together and there’s no one else I would have rather had by my side through it all. Tell Henry and Michael I love them and give them a big kiss from Uncle Spencer.

Rossi - after Gideon left I didn’t think I’d be able to continue at the BAU without him, until you came along. You were a mentor to me, a friend and a confidant and I wish you and Krystall all the luck in the world this second time around.

Penelope - you were always the light in the dark of the BAU and without your constant sunshine, the job would have been a hell of a lot harder. You’re the smartest person I know (myself excluded) and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for how truly amazing you are.

Tara - the laughs we’ve shared these past few years have kept me going. Your stories and tales never fail to make me smile. You are a force unto yourself and the BAU got incredibly lucky when you joined the team.

Matt - I wish we’d gotten a chance to get to know each other better. Circumstances dictated that we never really got that chance but my time spent working with you was a pleasure.

Luke - I’m sorry for everything. I don’t want to go into detail but you know what I’m talking about. Thank you for always being there for Y/N even when I couldn’t be. Look after her for me, she deserves someone who can give her the life I can’t. She deserves someone who can give her shelter, not be the cause of her storm.

Y/N - I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry and I love you but I’m not the man you fell in love with anymore, I think you know that. So all I can do is apologise and hope one day you won’t hate me.

I love you all like family, but I have to forge my own future, find my own home.

And it’s no longer here.

Spencer W. Reid

Tears were spilling from your eyes when you looked up at Emily again.

In her palm sat two items. One was Spencer’s FBI credentials.

The other was his wedding ring.

“No.” You shook your head, tossing the note on your desk and snatching his wedding ring from her hand. “No, he can’t do this. He can’t leave with just a fucking note!”

You grabbed your back and jacket, tucking the ring in your pocket.

“Y/N, what are you-“

“I have to go. I have to stop him.” Your tears hindered your vision so you didn’t see Luke step in your way until his hands were on your shoulders.

“Whoa there,” he steadied you. “You’re in no state to drive.”

“Don’t you dare try to stop me, Alvez. I swear to god if you try and stop me going after him-“

“Let me drive you.” He cut you off.

You wiped your eyes on the back of your hand, lip quivering.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He smiled softly at you.

He gave Emily a glance over your shoulder and she nodded at him before Luke put his arm around your shoulders and steered you towards the elevator.

***

Luke had broken several speed limits to get you back to your apartment in a hurry, in the hopes you might get there in time and be able to stop Spencer from doing something stupid.

From outside the front door of your apartment you could hear Spencer banging about inside so you knew you weren’t too late.

Before you pushed open the door you turned back to Luke and gave him a sad smile.

“You shouldn’t come in. You’ve been dragged into my marriage enough.”

“Agreed.” He smiled wistfully at you. “Why do I have this gut feeling that I’m never going to see you again?”

A few tears escaped your eyes, knowing what Luke meant.

“He’s made up his mind. He wants to leave.”

“And you’re going with him. Wherever he might be going.”

“I took vows.” You looked down at your wedding ring. “I plan to honour them.”

“I hope the two of you are able to be happy together Y/N, I really do. I hope a fresh start is exactly what the two of you need to make your marriage work.” He cupped your cheek with a feather light touch.

“If it isn’t, you better believe I’ll come back to cry on your shoulder.” You laughed but it was a sad laugh.

“I wish I’d gotten the chance to love you, Y/N.” He wiped your tears with his thumb.

“Maybe in another life, Alvez.” You leant in and placed the softest kiss to his cheek before stepping out of his hold.

Luke stepped backwards towards the stairs and you gave him one last look, taking him all in one last time before turning to the door.

You cautiously entered the apartment and followed the noises of your husband rustling about in the bedroom.

He had his back to the door as he folded some shirts before placing them in an open suitcase on the bed.

“You’ve got a nerve.” You folded your arms as he slowly turned to look at you.

His was the picture of guilt, looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Ten more minutes.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Ten more minutes and I would have been gone.”

His passport and a boarding pass laid on the bed. You walked over to it and picked it up.

“Italy huh?” You scanned the boarding pass. “Supposed to be nice there this time of year.”

“Supposedly.” He agreed, chewing on his lip. “Please don’t try and stop me leaving, Y/N. If you try to stop me I won’t go and I have to go.”

You put the boarding pass back down and fished his wedding ring out of your pocket.

“I know you do.” You rolled it around your palm.

“You’ve always been my home, Buttercup, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go into work everyday knowing what I’ve done. I should be in prison. I can’t help catch serial killers and psychopaths without feeling like a hypocrite.

And I don’t know that I can keep looking you in the eyes everyday knowing you deserve better. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same man you married and that scares me, Y/N. I want to be better for you but I can’t promise that I will be.

The therapy and the medication can only go so far. I might never get better, Y/N. There’s no way to know if the next time I smell bleach it won’t cause me to disassociate again. This might never be over.

You shouldn't have to live with that fear. What happens if I have a break again and I hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself. You deserve to be safe, and I can’t promise you will be with me. You deserve better.”

“I do deserve better.” You took hold of his wrist and turned his hand over, pushing his wedding ring into his palm. “But I don’t want better. I want you.”

“I can’t stay.” He sniffed, eyes glossing over as his fingers encased the ring.

“And I’m not asking you to.” You stepped closer to him. “But I am coming with you.”

His tears overflowed the second that you were finished speaking but you didn’t dare reach for him, not yet.

“Your life is here. Your home is here, Y/N. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“We’ll find a doctor in Italy, we’ll make sure you’re still getting the help you need to fight this. You’re my life. You’re my home, Spencer Reid.” You uncurled his fingers and took the ring again before sliding it back into its rightful place on his finger. “Til death do us part.”

“Do you mean it?” He sniffed, taking hold of your hand again.

“I do. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me does think the two of us would be better off without each other. But I can’t live without you Spencer. A house is only four walls and a roof. We can build a house anywhere. But we’re not home unless we’re together.”

With that Spencer drew you closer and kissed you passionately.

The two of you had a long way to go still. It wouldn’t be smooth sailing from here on out but calmer waters would eventually be on the horizon.

In time you’d learn to forgive Spencer for all the things he’d done. In time you might even come to love him like you used to. But this wasn’t just about the two of you anymore, it had become bigger than that.

You weren’t doing this for him, you weren’t even doing this for yourself. You were doing it for the baby growing inside of you, one that shared both yours and Spencer’s DNA. You were doing it for the child that deserved to not be resided to only seeing their father through plexiglass in a federal jail.

You’d tell Spencer the news once you were settled in Italy.

You’d tell him once you were finally sheltered from the storm.

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

Taglist -

Series taglist -

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@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @sexy-dumpster-fire @thebloomingeagle @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse

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@frickin-bats @dreatine @adoringanakin @dr-spencerr-reidd @sleepretreat @spenxerslut @sweetandsunny @bellaswanismysoulmate @mcumorningstar @dontcallmekittens @kuolonsyoja @radtwinkie @drayshadow @lytrc @nani-2305 @rainsong01 @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @safespacespence @pastelbabygirl19 @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @dielgonacoffee @hotchandspencearedilfs

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #shelter from the storm #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds

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xoxopeter · 3 years ago

Text

The Sun is a Blue Moon

A/N: So this started out as a headcanon thread that was hella long until I eventually decided to just write the thing. This may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Let me know what you guys think. Oh, and yes there will be a part 2 ;)

Summary: A Hogwarts AU where Peter Parker falls in love with a Hufflepuff and it’s just tooth rotting fluff the whole time really.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: social anxiety

“Just breathe.” y/n exhaled, staring at herself in the mirror.

It was her first day of sixth year at Hogwarts and she was a tangled knot of anxiety and nerves. Part of her still couldn’t believe she was actually there once again. It seemed like just yesterday someone was knocking at her door and telling her parents that she was a witch and was accepted to Hogwart, a school for witchcraft and wizardry. It had been a bumpy ride at the beginning, her parents not fully believing it for quite some time but eventually couldn’t deny the obvious. It was true and they all knew it. Y/N had always been different her entire life, with strange things happening around her that always made people stare at her. It was what made her such an anxious child and what made her social anxiety bloom into what it was.

Smoothing down her robe and adjusting her yellow tie, she left the restroom and headed for her first class, keeping close to the walls and head down and continuing on with the same routine she’d had for the last several years. Sometimes she wished she could blend in with the walls and go unseen.

Divination was her first class and she found a seat further toward the back with no one in the companion seat and she headed right for it, hoping that that companion seat would stay empty. It had happened a couple times before and she hoped that she would get lucky in her second to last year and would have at least one class where she didn’t have to worry about talking to anyone.

It wasn’t that y/n couldn’t speak, she could, really, but she just didn’t want to. She had a hard time with attention. Public speaking? All eyes on her? Saying something that would make people think she was a freak? Taking too long in line at the grocery store? Wearing something that would make her stand out? All a huge hell no with a capital H. Some nights she would hear girls laughing in the Hufflepuff commons and wish she could be part of that but she just didn’t know how. She was sure comradely was something she’d never attain.

As she was getting settled in her seat, the chair beside her that she had been vying for to stay vacant was pulled out with a scrape against the floor and she looked to see a girl with a red tie and corkscrew black hair that fell just past her shoulders smiling at her with perfect teeth. She wore large round glasses and her fingers were covered in rings with different gemstones in them. She looked like she listened to Stevie Nicks and drank black coffee and stared up at the stars for guidance.

“Hi! I’m Winifred but everyone calls me Win!” She chipped as she sat down, setting her books onto the table with a small thud. The scrape of her chair made y/n cringe internally at how loud it was and the books had really made her worry. She glanced around the room to make sure no one was staring and relaxed a little when she found no one was.

“I’m y/n.” she stated with a small nod, looking back down to her book that she was opening to the page listed on the chalkboard.

“Oh my god that’s, like, the cutest necklace I’ve ever seen! Did you get it in Hogsmeade?” Win asked, eyes bright.

Swallowing, y/n wet her lips as her hand wrapped around the golden heart shaped locket she wore everyday for the last six years. “No. It was a gift from my dad. I don’t know where he got it.”

“It’s way cute.”

“Thank you.”

The entire class, Win talked and talked, going on and on about anything. She had talked about how her father was in the ministry of magic but her mom was her best friend. She talked about how hard sixth year was going to be but how excited she was to finally be a sixth year. Y/N was silent through most of it, only giving small nods and little hums. She appreciated that Win was more than happy to provide the conversation. Her favorite kinds of people were the ones who monopolized the conversation and Win was definitely one of those people.

“You should eat lunch with me and my friends!” She gasped as they were packing up for the next class of the day. “We’re all in different houses but we don’t have a Hufflepuff yet! Do you know Gwen Stacy?”

“Oh uh I know of her but I don’t really know her.” Y/N murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Well, she’s awesome and everyone will love you! We sit at the end of the Ravenclaw table. See you then y/n!”

Y/N was left blinking as Win floated out the door. She had no idea how she got roped into that and she was terrified but bubbling with excitement at the same time. She had no idea how long they would let a girl who would sometimes go days without uttering a single word sit with them in their group but she would enjoy it, if just for the one day. She usually ate lunch in the library so this would be different.

Half convinced that it was all a joke by the time lunch came around, she was ready to see no such group at the end of the Ravenclaw table, but there were several students with different colored ties right where Win had said there would be. It was real and she couldn’t back out now.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, y/n headed for the end of the table and felt a twinge when she saw that there was an empty spot next to Win.

“Y/N! Hey, girl! Come here!” Win called, eyes excited and a half eaten cookie in her hand.

It felt easy to sit next to Win, but she struggled to keep a small smile as everyone in the group stared at her as she sat down. There was one boy in particular who she couldn’t even glance at because she knew she would be sporting red ears if she did.

He sat directly opposite her and was a Ravenclaw, the blue tie half open and his robe falling off one shoulder. His mahogany toned hair was messy and floppy, like his hands were constantly in it but she liked the way it looked. She wanted to study his face and find the freckles she hadn’t seen in her glance at him and really find the accurate shade of his eyes- she had a thing for eye colors and finding their perfect shade. He was really beautiful and she wondered how she had gone six years without ever having seen him before. There was no way she would have forgotten him if she had.

Win introduced y/n and explained that they had divination together. While Win chattered on, y/n’s hand wrapped around her locket, thumbnail toying with the clasp that kept it closed.

“Y/N, this is Gwen Stacy, Flash, Harry Osborn, MJ Watson, and Peter Parker.”

She waved, avoiding Peter’s stare before finally looking at him. True to her thoughts and her ears got hot and her stomach filled with butterflies. She worried if she opened her mouth they would fly out and tell Peter that she liked him so she merely waved and looked back to Win.

True to who she was, y/n stayed quiet most of lunch, nodding at times appropriate and trying to keep a smile on her face. She wanted to try and make friends and this was the best opportunity she had ever had so she was going to try and not completely fuck it up. She was almost seventeen years old and needed to try and overcome some of her shyness and social anxiety.

But she did take the risk a few times and looked over at Peter, taking in his square round glasses and the ink stains on his fingertips. How the sleeves of his wrinkled white button up were cuffed up. She had to put in effort to not pass out when he had taken off his robe and revealed his veiny forearms and rolled up sleeves. She could see the faintest bit of stubble on his chin that he must have missed when shaving. She took in the way he looked at everyone in the group, with a lax smile and warm eyes. She had decided they were the same color of the hazelnuts that grew on the tree in her parents front lawn.

It was on the third day of sixth year that y/n realized that Peter was in her astronomy class. He sat on the other side of the room with MJ. She didn’t think he noticed and she didn’t want to walk up to him randomly so she decided to wait and see if he noticed and if he cared at all. Even though she spent most of the class staring at his side profile whenever she knew he wouldn’t catch her.

Two weeks later and y/n was walking into astronomy and Peter Parker was sitting in the seat next to hers where Romilda Vane had been sitting the last week. She stared at his back, her brain short circuiting. Maybe had wanted to talk before class started, she usually got in early since astronomy was after sunset and after dinner. She had no idea he even knew they had the same class together. They had just been sitting together at the same table not even an hour ago. He had smiled and waved at her like he did everyday. Why was he in the seat beside hers?

She walked up to her seat and as soon as she pulled her chair out, Peter looked up at her with that beaming smile that made her feel like a little bit of the sun had found its way into Peter Parker.

“Hi.” He greeted.

She bit her lip, trying desperately to find her voice that was so often lost at sea.

Peter seemed to sense your shyness. “Romilda asked to switch so she could be closer to the professor so she could hear better.” He explained.

She nodded, sitting down and looking down with a wide grin. She knew that Romilda could hear just fine because this was the second time they were partnered in a class and she also preferred to sit toward the back of the room.

Y/N felt like she was going to start floating at any minute because Peter, the boy she would daydream about and draw hearts around his name in her notebooks, had wanted to sit next to her and was going to be her astronomy partner for the rest of the year. Three nights a week they would spend an entire class together, and not just any class but her favorite class. She loved the night sky and the stars and she got to share that with Peter for an entire school year.

Though she never spoke, Win’s group kept welcoming y/n to eat with them and she had even been invited to sit with them at the first quidditch game of the year. She bundled up in her Hufflepuff scarf and thickest coat but she had forgotten her gloves and her fingers were freezing shortly into the game and she blew into her hands, trying to keep them somewhat warm.

Peter was sitting directly beside her and nudged her, making her look at him in question. Wordlessly, he offered her a pair of gloves, an eyebrow raised. “I won’t need them.”

Opening her mouth to speak, she thought better and closed it before taking the knitted gloves hesitantly at first, but then mouthing a thank you with a soft smile and slipped them on. Peter smiled back at her and she tried not to notice that his fingertips were red with the cold.

The first time y/n finally spoke to Peter was in astronomy several days after they started sitting together. They were supposed to map out a specific constellation and since Peter was so smart and y/n really good at astronomy, they finished early and were sitting together by a large oak tree, y/n with her arms around her drawn up knees and Peter leaning against the trunk of the tree.

He was looking up at the sky and she kept looking at him, bathed in moonlight, fingers weaving in and out of the grass. She was starting to trust him like she’d only trusted a few people in her life. He made her feel seen and for some reason, she didn’t want to run away from it. Her entire life she had been running out of the spotlight and trying to hide in the shadows but Peter saw her and she didn’t want to hide in the shadows. At first, he made her more anxious than anyone else in the group because she liked him but now she didn’t feel anxious around him, instead she just felt safe. He didn’t ask her why she didn’t really talk or what was wrong with her and he didn’t push her to talk, either. He just took her as she was.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” She asked, eyes on the grass that she was still running her fingers through.

Peter whipped his head down to her, lips parting and shock clouding his face. It was the first time he was hearing her speak ever. The words fell like bubbles from her rosy lips, each word careful and delicate, her voice a little rougher than he had imagined- but he still loved it just as much. He had been dying to find a way to get her to speak to him but didn’t want to push her because he knew she was just shy and probably had some kind of anxiety so he was fine with waiting until she was ready to speak. Even if she didn’t talk to him, he just wanted to be around her. Hufflepuffs always had good vibes but y/n had a warmth about her.

It was no secret within the rest of the group that he had a big giant crush on y/n, something Flash loved to tease him about. In fact, Peter had almost gotten into a physical fight with Flash when he first started teasing him about liking y/n because he thought he was making fun of him for liking her. Sure, she was quiet and didn’t really talk but he didn’t see anything wrong with that. Some people were so worried about being able to say what they wanted to say that they didn’t hear what others had to say. Y/N heard everything people needed to say, her twinkling eyes focused solely on whoever was speaking and her focus on what they were saying. She cared about what people had to say and truly listened. He had seen her kindness when he had been walking back to the Ravenclaw tower and watched her pick up a small caterpillar and find a nice home for it in the bushes, being gentle with it and patient. Maybe she didn’t speak very much but her actions spoke loud enough for him to get to know her. He always thought Hufflepuff’s were the purest of heart of all the houses.

Adjusting his glasses, he peered his head down to try and catch her eye so she would look at him. It worked and their eyes met. “It’s Perseus.”

Y/N rested her chin on her knees and nodded, one hand coming to tinker with the locket that rested below the hollow of her throat. “It’s a good one. I think mine’s Andromeda.”

“It’s a good one.” He retorted, making her chuckle. The silence took over and Peter couldn’t help but smile at her before looking at the sky again.

“Have you seen Snape’s new haircut?”

He looked back down at her, thrilled she said something else.

“Yeah.” He chortled. “Went a bit too short this time.”

“He’s giving Lord Farquad.”

The laugh that boomed out of Peter made y/n jump at first but then she remembered no one was around and she relaxed again, smiling wide because she had made Peter Parker laugh. It was deep and boisterous and she would probably never forget it.

“I wish everyone else knew how funny you are.” Peter mused, the remnants of his laughter still in his voice. “But I’m honored that I get to know.”

“Technically, you don't. I only said one funny thing. Maybe that’s all I’ve got.”

“Nah I know that you’re funny. Just a feeling.”

“Whatever you say, Parker.” She shrugged.

“Can I ask what made you finally talk to me?”

Y/N thought for a moment before wetting her lips. “I guess I just really, like, trust you now. I don’t know. I’ve never felt safe around anyone before you. I feel like I could say anything to you and you wouldn’t judge me for it or think I’m weird, no matter what it is.”

“I like you too much to think you’re weird.” He blurted, before his eyes went wide and he cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn’t think too much into it.

But Peter had never been lucky and bit back a groan at seeing her eyes grow brighter and mouth fall open. “You like me?”

He couldn’t deny it, especially not to her. Not with the way she was looking at him with hopeful eyes and red cheeks and those stupid yellow finger-less gloves she wore that he always made him want to groan because it made her hands look ridiculously cute and small. Especially not under the stars when there was no one around and it was just them, the constellations ready to harbor their secrets.

“I have since I met you.” He bit his bottom lip, knowing his heart might be completely crushed in the next two seconds. “Do you…like me?”

Y/N wasn’t afraid to open her mouth now because she could let the butterflies out. “Yeah. You make me feel safe, Peter.”

The moment was broken when they heard the call for the students to return and they stared at each other for a moment before getting up and gathering their papers that were off to the side. As they started walking back, Peter slipped his hand into hers and she looked up at him with a smile and squeezed his hand that was laced with hers.

Peter walked her as far as he could go which was the same corridor as the kitchens. She stopped and turned to face him before pushing up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. It made his heart thump in his chest and he barely processed when she pulled her hand from his and left, heading through the corridor and down the hall. His heart felt like it might burst in his chest.

Y/N was feeling the same, even stopping when she knew she was out of sight of Peter to lean against the wall and just stand there with a love drunk smile, Peter taking over her head and her heart. She knew they had a lot of talk about like were they boyfriend and girlfriend now? Was she allowed to hold his hand whenever she wanted? But for that moment she just wanted to hold onto the glow coming from her heart over the fact that Peter Parker liked her and he had held her hand and she had kissed his cheek. She had spoken to him and now he was her best friend and she was completely in love with him.

To her surprise, the next morning when she left the corridor to go to her first class, Peter was leaning against a wall, blue tie loose and hair messy like she loved. He caught her eye and smiled at her, letting her make her way to him.

“Can I walk you to your class?” He asked and she couldn’t help but beam and nodded, reaching up to fix his tie. “You have Mcgonagall first and you know she’ll get you for your tie.”

When it was straightened out, she slipped her hand into his. She knew a few people might look at them holding hands, but she had also laid in bed the night before preparing for a few looks if they held hands or showed any small displays of affection. It wouldn’t last forever and that was the only thing keeping her from having an anxiety attack: it was just a few people and it would only be for a little while. She could get through it.

Peter walked her all the way to Divination and parted from her with a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Meet me in the library at lunch?”

“Kay.” She agreed, knowing she would meet him in the boys bathroom if he asked.

Her classes passed at the pace of a snail. All she could think about was meeting Peter in the library. She knew they would probably talk about…them and she was beyond anxious but in a good way. She knew they would leave that library as boyfriend and girlfriend and if she was lucky, she would have had her first kiss because she was going to kiss him. She didn’t know how or when but she would kiss him if he didn’t kiss her first. It was nerve wracking to think about but she was going to try and be a little bit more bold when it came to Peter and their relationship, whatever that may be.

When lunch rolled around, y/n headed for the library, small chips in her white nail polish from picking at it due to nerves. She looked around, trying to find Peter and shoulders falling into repose when she saw him in an aisle, robes off and hands toying with an open book.

She made her way over and he didn’t hear her coming until she was a couple feet from him. The smile he gave her made her melt.

“Hi.” She greeted.

“Hi.”

He slipped his hand into hers and she pulled him with her toward the cushioned window sill, the glass cold on her back.

“Do you want some jellybeans?” He asked, pulling a baggy of jellybeans out of his pocket. It made her giggle in amusement that he just had a bag of jellybeans in his pocket at random but she nodded, taking the portion he poured into her hand and starting to pop them into her mouth, examining the handful.

“Wait? Are these the every flavor beans?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, putting several into his mouth. “But I made sure there weren’t any gross ones for you.”

“How?”

“Got a friend who came up with a way to find out what ones were the gross ones and he showed me how this morning.”

Her mouth was parted as she looked back down the handful of sweets, beyond touched that he had sorted through the jelly beans to pick out the gross ones just in case she wanted some of them.

Looking back to him, she splayed her hand on his cheek as he swallowed and leaned in. His breath hitched in his throat and she could smell the sugar on his breath before their lips even touched. She hesitated, giving him a second to stop her if he wanted as well as give her a second of doubt before that mental “fuck it” crossed her mind and she kissed him.

It was soft and chaste, the small sound of their lips filling the silence around them.

With buzzing lips, she pulled away just enough to break the kiss but brushed their noses together, Peter’s hand finding her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He breathed, giving the corner of her mouth a peck.

“What’s in it for me?” She mused, sarcasm lacing her tone.

Peter picked up on it and smile softly, brushing hair hair behind her ear and pulling back a little bit. “Safe jelly beans for one. There’s also unlimited free kisses, I’ll help you with all of your homework, I have a very impressive collection of books that you’re free to at anytime.”

“Well how can I turn down the books?”

The laugh that slipped out of him made her kiss him again. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of kissing him.

Peter and y/n were inseparable after that. Where she went, Peter was right behind her, that lovesick smile on his face because let’s face it he was head over heels for her. He walked her to all her classes and they sat together at meal time, his arm around her waist or her leaning against his chest, his arm around her still. He wore her spare yellow and black striped scrunchie on his wrist pretty much always. When she forgot her robe, which was often, she wore his. He picked up the habit of speaking for her when she really, really didn’t want to. Like when she had a question in class but could barely think about raising her hand to ask and have everyone look at her, her voice being the only sound in the room. So when she had a question she would write it down and nudge Peter. He would read it and ask the question for her. Punch drunk love had nothing on Peter. He was well and truly gone for the Hufflepuff girl that most people didn’t notice. And while she barely said a word to anyone that wasn’t Win or Peter, she was herself when it was just her and Peter. She had a strong sense of humor and would make the most out of pocket, dry comments that always had him in stitches. She was affectionate with him, kissing the corner of his jaw often and calling him baby. He was special enough to be allowed to really see her and it was a gift he cherished.

She did her little things for him too like keeping wipes on her for his ink stained fingers and always reminding him of where his glasses were when he couldn’t find them; they had been on his head one time and she could only put them back in place with a small smile and kiss the tip of his nose. She had put his picture in the empty side of her locket, the other side holding a picture of her mother and father. The day she had shown Peter he knew he would love her forever.

She was there to clean his wounds when Peter punched a kid named Draco for calling another girl Mudblood, thus starting a fight. With a bloody rag in her hand that had just cleaned his bleeding cheekbone, she confessed to him that she was a full muggle-born with no magic in her family tree. He had kissed her and told her that he didn’t care if she was related to he who shall not be named; as long as she stayed who she was he would love her no matter what. She was the sunlight in his life to which she reminded him he was the moonlight in hers.

Y/N was slowly starting to come out of her shell through the school year. It started mostly with the group in small comments that she could add in. Everyone always simmered down to be able to hear her speak when she did, and Peter could always see how big of a deal it was for her. He knew all about her social anxiety and would squeeze her hand, letting her know she could do it and that he was right there if she needed him.

In their sixth year, Peter and y/n couldn’t have been happier. That was before all hell broke loose in Hogwarts.

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writer-and-artist27 · 1 year ago

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Tumblr Story: Reformed Bully

Note: For @dollya-robinprotector. Since you’re going through a rough patch, I thought some fluff would work in easing the stress.

Very light FGO/Passing Days-DOL crossover and all. Based heavily off this one ask and this comic that led me to meeting you, Dollya. :) Written as thanks for talking with me and bonding over the FGO gnomes.

Was listening to YOASOBI’s Idol when writing this. And Dr. Stone’s One Small Step.

Now if y’all excuse me, I need to sleep. More hematopathology work tomorrow.

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

By the time Vy had noticed the door show up in her room, she wasn’t surprised anymore. It even decided to appear once she had finished packing up the latest batch of magic peanut butter cookies for the Servants, but compared to the previous door, this one had—

“A silver handle…?” Unlike all of Chaldea’s sliding doors and the previous magic entrance that led to another Master’s world, this door looked almost ordinary, its white oak furnishings and matching pale silver doorknob making it look like it came out of a Home Depot. Even when compared to the white walls of her room in Novum Chaldea, the newest entryway looked… mundane. In spite of its faint glowing too.

Vy considered. Glancing down at her bags of cookies, one in particular stood out to Vy’s eye. It was a bit lopsided from including some of the bigger cookies of the batch, not to mention the rather crooked purple ribbon bow, but it was… it was apparently glowing the same faint yellow as the new door.

With one last look at the door, Vy felt herself smile wryly. “I guess… if this is glowing too… might as well try and take a chance as long as I’m not gone for too long, right? Just have to wear the right Mystic Code…”

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

“Nngh…”

“…Oh dear,” Vy said for herself when stepping through the magic door. What waited beyond it was a grassy hill, a single tree overlooking what looked like a farm, and a single man lying in the grass, asleep with—with actual tears in his eyes. It wasn’t a stretch to believe he was suffering from a nightmare in spite of the warm atmosphere around him, but add in the light thrashing and the sweat beading his forehead, Vy knew she couldn’t leave him be.

The blond fringe of hair hiding one side of his face away from view was the last nail in the metaphorical coffin. If his hair was ginger-colored instead of blonde, then—

I want to help this person just like I help Robin.

It was why Vy kept the one bag of cookies from Chaldea nestled close to the chest of her Decisive Battle uniform, slowly getting to her knees and reaching out with one gloved hand.

“Sir,” she whispered softly, patting his shoulder as gently as she could. Her ponytail could be pushed over her shoulder later. Right now, someone was suffering, and— “Sir, please wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

“N-Ngh—” The man groaned, nearly slapping her hand if not for Vy moving it out of the way just in time. “Lya—! Lya, I’m s—!”

“Sir,” Vy spoke more firmly, worry leaking into her voice before she realized it as her fingers reached up to pinch at his cheek. Sitting down on her knees, she said, “It’s alright — it’s over. It’s time for you to come back to reality now.”

The blond man got up with a start once her pinching registered, blue eyes wide with shock and tears once his spine made an audible crack from sitting up so abruptly. Vy immediately took her hand back, schooling her panic as best as she could once he looked at her past the haze in his blue eyes. “Lya—!” he blinked. “You’re… you’re not Lya.” His brow furrowed almost immediately, a glare settling in his eyes as he took her in. “Who are you, where did you come from, and when did you get to this farm?”

Typical, Vy thought. Outwardly, she did her best to smile placatingly, shrugging her shoulders. “Good morning to you too, good sir. I’m Vy — consider me a passerby who came through a magic door and saw someone crying in their sleep and therefore couldn’t leave them alone,” she said, pointing at her own eyes past her glasses to gesture to her newly awake companion. The “magic door” part of her statement wasn’t a complete lie, but it was enough to wipe some of the apprehension off of his face. “I’ve had experience with waking up with tears in my eyes, see.”

“…Oh.” And as soon as he said it, the man raised one calloused hand to wipe at his face, the tattooed wristband on his knuckles shining a darker shade of black with the droplets sticking to his skin with the motion. “…Did I look that much like shit?”

“Not as bad as someone who’s had the life literally burned out of them, no.” Vy said immediately, the image of the many victims of Camelot Gawain's Excalibur Galatine coming to the forefront of her mind before she pushed the thought away. That sight was just plain disgusting. “It could’ve been worse.”

Now the man was looking at her with a completely new face. “Burned?”

She smiled and offered the bag of cookies in her arms to him instead. “Yep. I’ve seen worse than someone crying in their sleep, so you have nothing to worry about,” she answered in regards to his unspoken question, shaking her head. “Enough of debating the ‘worse’ in looks. Would you like some cookies? I have a bag right here for you.”

“…Cookies?” The man wasn’t staring daggers at her at least, but he still looked wary. “You made them?”

“With just peanut butter, eggs, and sugar, yes. They’re supposed to be ‘magic.’” Vy felt herself smile a bit wider once she could see the curiosity start to dawn on the man’s face. She offered the bag to him again, lopsided purple ribbon bow and all. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison them and I taste-tested them beforehand. It just looked like you needed something sweet to work off the nightmare, sir.”

The man glanced at her, then at the bag in her hands, and back at her. “You… You don’t even know me,” he slowly choked out, a large drop of a tear forming in the corner of his visible eye as the blue of his iris widened to reflect her image. “You only just… you only just stumble on me, and you just—”

Vy wasn’t sure whether to smile or just wait. She decided to opt for both while adding in an extra shrug of her shoulders.

“I…” The man choked again, shaking his head while scrubbing at his face with his hand again. The tattoos — he had more on his other hand and even his neck — all of them looking like shackles to match his voice coming out vulnerable and raw-sounding once he said, “I hurt the woman I love. I hurt more than just her. I-I’m still scared I could hurt the family she gave me. So then, why would you—”

“What’s wrong,” Vy said quietly to cut off the self-deprecating rant, “with wanting to help someone, then?”

The man fell silent, the tear in his eye slowly growing big enough to streak his cheek as it then fell to the grass between them.

With a bit of mustered courage — from Mash, from Artoria, from Achilles, from Robin — Vy smiled a bit wider as she reached over with her left hand — glove, lotus-shaped Command Seals and all — to wipe at the man’s exposed cheek. “Hurt is just gonna happen, sir. That’s just how life is,” she said in a softer voice, ignoring the wetness starting to spread out against the fingertips of her glove as she rubbed his cheekbone as gently as she could. As Da Vinci might’ve done in her place, as the Eternal Genius. As Dr. Roman might’ve done in her place, as a medical professional — as a living human from King Solomon’s remains. “And even if I don’t know what happened to hurt you so much, what matters now is how you move forward in the face of all of it. And if you’re waking up like this, crying and worrying about how to treat the person you love even after you hurt her, I’d like to think you’re walking in the right direction.”

The man half-snorted, half-sniffled, but he didn’t slap her hand away. Instead, he weakly leaned into her palm, his other hand coming up to weakly grasp at the bag of cookies sitting between them. “…Huh.” A weak laugh leaves his lips, blue eyes teary still as he closed them for a shaky inhale of breath. “Guess I’m more fucked up than I thought, listening to a stranger and taking fucking peanut butter cookies from them.”

“I’m not a stranger when I previously said my name, sir, not to mention I offered the cookies in the first place,” Vy said plainly, but she still smiled at him. It was the least she could do. “And really — we’re all struggling in life. Might as well start somewhere. So.” She pushed the cookies into his shaking palm, forcing as much cheer into her voice as possible. “My name is Vy. What is yours, sir?”

The smile he gives her in that moment makes her think, Robin, again. Even with the ear piercings and the tattoos, his face looks bright for the first time ever in the sunlight peeking past the tree hanging over them and the farm sitting far away. “…Whitney. It’s… it’s Whitney.”

“Well then!” Vy hummed, making sure to pat his wet cheek a few more times for good measure before lowering her left hand to take his in a squeeze. “It’s nice to meet you, Whitney! Hurt and all! I have some time on my hands being a passerby, so why don’t we chat for a bit? Hopefully get the tears out of you too!”

Because when barely anyone outside of Mash and the Servants — Robin especially — reached out when she woke up crying, the least Vy could do was make sure no one else could have a repeat experience.

#mastersona vy #whitney the bully #gift things #writing #unedited #fate grand order #degrees of lewdity fanfic #no 18+ stuff here #just fluff #and comfort #long post #text post #from one artist to another #dol homestead au

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luvksj · 3 years ago

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Yandere!Undisputed Era: Naughty Little Girl

author’s note: so... i suddenly got this idea listening to jamie’s ‘pity party’. it’s a really good song imo (in my opinion) and you should listen. she’s a korean solo artist who writes songs w positive messages about not comparing yourself to others or about loving yourself cause you’re a bad b*tch. periodt.

some of my other fav songs atm include hwasa’s ‘maria’, nearly anything little mix, twice, the encanto soundtrack (esp ‘we don’t talk about bruno’ and ‘what else can i do?’) and mainly pop songs. BUT! i’m super hyped for BIGBANG’s comeback!!! ahhhh, i legit can’t wait and even though it’s bittersweet since top’s left YG, he’s still willing to participate in bigbang activites (dependent on his schedule)!

also for further context, please pretend they’re ALL in aew right now. since adam’s currently feuding w/ hangman page and vying for the aew world championship. anyway... please enjoy this story and thank you so much for interacting w/ my stories. it really means the world to meh 😄.

pov: ever since moving to aew, they’ve been neglecting you and you’ve had enough. so you decided to get payback by being a... very naughty girl.

You couldn’t stand it any longer.

Ever since coming to AEW, they’ve been treating you... differently. Treating you like a ghost... as if you don’t even exist and casting you to the shadows as they focused completely on ONE thing. Being draped in gold.

If it was just an occassional thing, then it wouldn’t bug you at all. However, this has been happening since they debuted in AEW. Cancelling dates, hang-outs -- even going as far as not seeing each other for days since they’d come back when you’d be asleep and leave before you’d wake up.

They spent nearly all their free time training. Every single spare second they had, they were at the gym -- training and working hard. You hated it. You wanted them to spend some time with you, even if it was just a short conversation in the hotel room. You just wanted to spend time with you.

However, the longer this went on... the more frustrated you got. It had gotten to the point where they wouldn’t utter a word to you or barely utter any words to you. They were so enthralled in capturing gold, that they neglected their golden gem, the most precious gold they ever had.

The breaking point for you was when they came home very late: exhausted, tired and frustrated. You were worried and tried asking them where they had been but they ignored you, promptly heading into their room and slammed the door in your face.

That was it. Your patience with them had just run out.

Your naughty and bratty side had just awoken and it was out for blood. Metaphorically speaking.

You wanted to get payback on them for how they treated you and the only way to do that was to ruin their chances at being ‘draped in gold’. They would never suspect this of you because after all you were their precious little gem. You wouldn’t dare do this to your daddies.

However, after what they put you through, you were feeling real naughty and rebellious. You knew that they had their championship matches coming up at Double or Nothing and that’s when you were going to strike.

time skip

The day had arrived and you were really nervous. They had left without you which made you happy rather than mad since it would give you extra time to go over the details of your plan.

Bobby and Kyle had a tag-team championship match against Jungle Boy and Luchasaurus. Roderick had a match against Sammy Guevara for the TNT championship. Then, Adam would compete in the main event against Hangman Page for the AEW World Championship.

You would wait until they were just about to win and then distract them. However... they wouldn’t know about it until Adam’s match. You didn’t want to flat-out reveal yourself right from the start otherwise the rest of your plan would fail so you decided to anonymously distract Bobby, Kyle and Roderick and reveal yourself during Adam’s match.

Quietly arriving, they were too busy preparing for their respective matches that they didn’t even realize you had arrived. You easily snuck past their locker room and arrived at Thunder Rosa’s locker room, she had allowed you to hide in her locker room after informing her of your ‘revenge’ plan.

You successfully enacted 2/3 of your plan by anonymously distracting Bobby, Kyle and Roderick during their matches causing them to lose. They still remained clueless to the fact you were here and vowed that their mysterious attacker will reap the consequences.

However, the final stage of your revenge plan was about to take place. And to make it a whole lot sweeter, Hangman Page was in on it. He overheard about it while you were talking to Rosa and offered his assistance which you gladly accepted.

You were nicely dressed, wearing one of their favorite outfits. The AEW glam team kindly did your makeup and hair making you look even better. You were waiting for your cue, intently watching the monitor as Adam took on Hangman Page in an intense main event.

Just as Adam was about to win, you went out in all your glory... confusing everyone. You smirked, confidently strutting down the runway towards the ring and jump up, standing behind the ropes as Adam approaches you, confused. Your smirk just grew with every step he took, confusing everyone even more.

When he was close enough, you leaned forward and whispered, “Do I have your attention now?” That’s when Hangman Page came from behind, rolling him into the pin for the win. Everyone was flabbergasted, you just costed Adam his match and not just any match... a title match.

You stare at him blankly as Hangman Page hurriedly rolls out of the ring, holding his title. The others came running out, surprised by your actions as you stood in front of them, no regret on your face as you said the same words to them as you said to Adam. “Do I have your attention now?”

That’s when it clicked in everyone’s head. You were the one who costed all of them their championship matches. It was you who distracted them. You were the mysterious attacker. Everyone’s faces morphed pure shock as the noise increased ten fold, stunned by the fact you did this to them.

Hangman Page stood beside you, wearing an identical smirk as he holds up his title. They continue to stare at you in pure shock -- unable to believe you’ve done something like this and what everyone, including you, seemed to miss was the glint in their eyes which ignited their yandere personality.

The following week on AEW, after avoiding them and rooming with Thunder Rosa, you went out and explained your actions.

You ensured you didn’t leave anything out, giving everyone a thorough in-sight into the reasoning behind your decision of your actions last week at Double or Nothing. “Does everyone understand now?” you questioned, finishing your lengthy rant as chants of “YES!” filled the arena making you grin.

Staring directly at the camera, you grinned mischievously, “So Adam, Kyle, Roderick and Bobby... do you understand? Do you understand why I did it? Why I costed you your title matches last week at Double or Nothing.” you started off.

“Call me petty or bratty... I really don’t care. What happened last week is nothing more than a warning or a taste of what I’m capable of. And trust me, when I say... I’m not afraid to get dirty if that’s what it takes.” you threatened. “So the moral of the story is don’t mistreat me otherwise I’ll rain fucking hell on you. And that’s undisputed!” you stated, fans cheering at your reference.

Before you could leave, their music sounded. Anyone could tell just by their body language how pissed off they were but you knew them better than anyone and could easily see that they’re trying to control themselves to protect their image but with your behavior -- it’s really difficult.

Standing behind the ropes, one person on each side, staring a gaping hole through your skull. Eyes full of anger, annoyance, perhaps a little bit of amusement and a little spark of their yandere-ness. That little spark knocked your confidence slightly but you wouldn’t tell them that -- that’ll only boost their ego.

“So Y/N... let me get this straight. You hated how we treated you and decide the only fair way to enact revenge is by costing us our championship matches. Is that right, baby?” Adam questioned you. You looked at him directly in the eyes, “Glad you can hear me now.” you responded sarcastically, earning a growl in return.

Roderick spoke up, gaining your attention. “Well Y/N, we’re sorry for how we treated you. We understand that you were angry about our behaviour towards you and we apologize.” he started off. You knew there was more and waited, wearing a smirk.

“But that does not give you the right to ruin our matches.” he declared as the others nod. “You betrayed us, Y/N. You costed us the titles to satisfy your pettiness and have acted like a brat ever since. And you know exactly what happens to brats, don’t you?” he rhetorically asked.

Nodding, you answer his question, “They get punished, daddy.” But you weren’t finished there and leaned closer to him, almost whispering it so only they could hear it, “Hence why I punished you guys.”

The fans went insane at your boldness while they struggled to contain their yandere side because you were really testing them now. “You see... you were acting like brats and decided that you needed to be punished. Don’t be mad, I just took a page out of your playbook.” you explained.

Climbing through the ropes, Bobby yanks your hair as Kyle crouches down to meet your eyes. “You’ve done it now, princess. You won’t be able to even get out of bed once we’re through, you little slut.” he whispered the last part for obvious reasons.

Grinning, I flip them the bird, “And guess what? I don’t fucking care. So, you four horny fuckers can kiss my ass.” you retorted earning a harsh hair pull from Bobby in return.

“So daddies, answer my question. Do I have your attention?” you demanded as Adam nodded. “Yes you do and you’re gonna regret it.”

Were you in pain? Absolutely.

Were you going to be bed-ridden for weeks? Yes.

But did you regret it? Did you regret what you did? Nope. Not one bit.

And would you ever do this again? Would you ever act this bratty again? The answer was simple: Abso-fucking-lutely. In a damn heartbeat.

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desiredmalfoy · 4 years ago

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You Walked Away From Me (Fred x Reader)

House: Left it for the reader to choose

Relationship: Fred x Reader (Draco x Reader friendship??)

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4 K

I’m back with another more Fred Angst! I listened to drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo when writing this. It’s not really based on it but the song helped me get in that mindset. It’s such an amazing song! This is is in the same universe as the Dear Malfoy one I wrote. You don’t have to read it to enjoy this but I highly recommend that you do! No Voldemort in this universe. Italics are the readers thoughts. Also no Angelina slander! I had to pick a female character.

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

Falling out of love is expected, especially if two souls aren’t meant to be.

He had told me not to worry about her. She’s only a friend....

It was natural for Fred to be around Angelina Johnson. They were in the same year and she was the Gryffindor quidditch captain. It was only natural for their worlds to intertwine. But that didn’t mean you didn’t worry about her being around your boyfriend. Every insecurity you’ve ever felt multiplied every time you saw her. She was tall like the models you saw grace the covers of the muggle magazines, she was just as pretty as them. Plus she had a good amount of the boys at Hogwarts vying for her attention. You felt so young and immature compared to her. Which was one of the reasons you refused to tell Fred of your constant thoughts of the insecurities you felt.

You had no reason to be insecure about the time he spent with her.

Because he had honestly not given you a reason to doubt him. He had never given you a reason to be suspicious of him. Your relationship with him had honestly been a dream until right now. He had asked you to the Yule Ball in such a simple and intimate manner. The whirlwind that was your fourth year also brought you love. You didn’t think you would ever find someone who truly loved you for you. But Fred showed you that he did. Someone who made every day worth it. During the summer you wrote to each other every day until he finally invited you to come over to the burrow. Your parents were hesitant to let you go at first since this year was different. You would around your boyfriend but you had managed to convince them after informing them that your Ginny and Hermione would also be there and that you had previously visited them already.

He had even told you he loved you for the first time while you were there. You thought everything in your relationship was going smoothly.

This year was Fred’s final year at Hogwarts so it was expected for him to be much busier than usual. You would never hold that against him. He had spoken to you about his plans to open a shop with George after leaving school. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have to finish this year, Molly would not permit that to happen. But he still made time for you no matter what. He would look for you at every chance he had. You treasured each fleeting moment with the ginger boy who had stolen your heart.

But things started to change slowly and you couldn’t help but notice.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the changes you saw in him. The newfound lack of time he now had for you. The way you noticed he no longer looked at you the same way. When he no longer held your hand for long. The way he toned you out when you spoke to him about the newest adventure you had read. He had always asked for the book after you so he could read it for himself too. Slowly over time, he stopped asking what you were reading and wanting to be a part of your world.

I wish I could’ve erased all our time together.

You were going to sneak into the boy’s dormitories to return to give Fred back his potions book he had accidentally left in the library when the two of you were studying. This was the first time in a couple of days she had even spent more than five minutes with her boyfriend. He had suggested that they study together and you had jumped on the opportunity to spend more time with him. Even if it was in silence but you were with him.

Normally she would’ve kept the book and just gave it to him in the morning. But with his unusual behavior as of recently, you weren’t sure you would even see him in the morning before class. Snape already had it out for Fred and him showing up without his potions book would definitely be costly for him.

She was used to sneaking into the dormitory as she sometimes hung out with Fred in his room. She walked to the familiar door she was used to seeing. You stopped suddenly when she heard Fred’s voice. He was talking to someone and she wanted to make sure she wasn’t intruding into the conversation. Must be George or another dorm mate.

That’s when she heard a female voice. Angelina

“Fred are you sure what you’re saying”, Angelina said softly, you could barely hear her.

There was a pause for a couple of seconds. What do they mean?

“Yes”, Fred finally spoke. “I like you…”

“But what about (y/n)”, Angelina questioned him. You can hear that her voice had started to become shaky.

You felt your heart breaking as if it was physically being shattered. It felt as if someone had torn it straight from your chest and now was mercilessly breaking your glass heart it into nothing.

You had heard enough and you pushed the door open without much warning. You startled the both of them as they jumped far away from each other.

“Oh hey (y/n)...wha-what’s wrong”, Fred stuttered as he made his way toward you.

“You left your potions book in the library”, you answered showing zero emotion in your voice as you threw the book on his bed. It bounced off his mattress and landed with a hard thud on the floor.

“I need to talk to you alone”, you said as you emphasized the last word directly at Angelina.

They gave each other a look and Angelina exited the room. As she was leaving her eyes kept looking between the two of you. But you kept your vision trained on Fred and didn’t spare a glance at the girl leaving.

“Since when Fred”, you spoke coldly to him as soon as you heard the door close.

“I-I-I….please let me explain”, Fred said as he attempted to grab your hands. You pulled them away as if his touch was burning you. Maybe it did in a way.

“Then explain and no excuses.” Tears were already forming in your eyes.

“Since the end of October”, he said while looking at you.

“The more time we spent together, the more I realized my feelings were changing”, he continued to speak to you. “Things changed (y/n) and I’m sorry.”

“You said you loved me”, you cried softly as tears were now pouring down your face. Your voice betrayed what you truly felt. You wanted to yell at him until your throat got raw and could no longer yell at him. “I guess you never truly meant it when you said you loved me.”

“I did! I-I...thought I di-...the love changed from romantic to simply as a friend. I meant it when I said it”, Fred exclaimed as he ran his fingers through his hands. Completely frustrated at the situation before him that he created. “Please (y/n), I still love you and care about you as my friend.”

“Stop! You don’t get to call me your friend Fred Weasley”, you yelled at him. This outburst surprised him as he had never seen you act this way. “You lost that privilege.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you”, Fred said while looking into your eyes pleadingly.

All that pent up anger and insecurities were finally spilling over. She was over this.

“Just shut up….you’re such a git Fred Weasley”, you said while angrily wiping the tears on your face. “It’s obviously over but that’s exactly what you wanted.”

“(y/n), please…..”

“Some Gryffindor you are, you’re nothing but a coward Fred Weasley.”

Wanting to get the final word in she quickly left his room and slammed the door. She hurried down the hall of the boys’ dormitories looking to get out of here as soon as possible. It felt like she was suffocating.

She accidentally bumped into someone as she was exiting the common room. She threw out a lame apology and kept walking without stopping. She didn’t really care at this moment. She hurried down the school looking for a place that they wouldn’t look for her. She just wanted to be alone today.

I wish I could turn back time to the moments we were happier.

(Y/N) sat at the top of the astronomy tower with tears spilling from her eyes. At some point, she could no longer cry and just let the tears silently slip from her eyes. Her body felt heavy from the minutes she had already spent sobbing. Her eyes were swollen and all she wanted to do was close them and sleep. But she was outside right now and she honestly didn’t feel like getting up right now. (Y/N) felt pathetic at the fact that she thought Fred had ever truly loved her. He claimed that at one point he did but she couldn’t even be sure of that. The presence of the moon and stars that glistened in the sky brought some peace to her at this moment. (Y/N) was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear the footsteps coming up the tower.

“(Y/L/N)? What are you doing here”, questioned a voice that (y/n) immediately recognized.

Draco Malfoy.

She quickly whipped her head to face the boy who was making his way towards her.

“Look Malfoy”, (y/n) responded with a long sigh. “I’m not in the mood today. So if you’re going to throw some insults my way…. just do it. I don’t care anymore.”

“You seem like a mess (y/l/n)”, Draco said as he sat down on the floor next to (y/n). He still kept his distance though.

“You sure have a way with words Malfoy”, (y/n) said with an eye roll. “So charming.”

“I’m stating the obvious. What’s wrong?”

“Why should I tell you”, she responded defensively. “So you can go tell the rest of your friends and tease me about it.”

“Fine. Then don’t say anything.”

There were a few seconds of silence before he spoke again

“I wouldn’t kick you when you are already down”, Draco said so quietly that (y/n) could barely hear him say it.

“Why wouldn’t you? You clearly hate me”, she scoffed at him.

“I never hated you (y/n). I just greatly disliked those you decided to make yourself an acquaintance with”, he said nonchalantly.

“Well...you’re in luck because I definitely won’t be around them now”, (y/n) said simply as she stared at Draco.

Draco only starred at her with a confused expression on his face. He honestly didn’t know what to say next.

“He cheated on me”, (y/n) finally said to him. She saw his eyes soften at her confession.

“And you know what’s worse? My supposed friends probably knew. George definitely did”, (y/n) said as she ranted to Draco. Someone she never thought she would even speak to unless it was to trade snide remarks.

“Well if they never told you they were never truly your friend.”

“Plus he’s their brother and much closer to him. It’s only expected that I’m going to be the one pushed to the side.”

“Well if you need someone to talk to, I’m here every night.”

“Why are you being so nice to me”, (y/n) questioned him. They had never been on best terms but it’s because she had learned to ignore him and pay no attention to his remarks.

“Everyone needs someone to talk to and like I said I never hated you.”

(Y/N) thought about this for a while. She was conflicted on trusting Draco, especially after their shared history. She was emotionally vulnerable at the moment and wasn’t in the best mindset to make a decision.

“It’s getting late, we should go before one of the prefects comes up here”, (y/n) said to him.

“Your right”, he said simply as he stood up. “The offer still stands (y/l/n).”

With that Draco Malfoy walked away from her and left her baffled at what just had occurred.

Darling how I wish last night was just a nightmare…

(Y/N) had been trying to avoid her friends the whole day. She decided to not show up to breakfast and avoid the awkward situation. Plus they were her only friends and she didn’t really have anywhere else to sit other than with maybe Luna. She was more of an acquaintance but she knew that she wouldn’t deny her a spot. She had skipped any class that she shared with them and hid from the rest of the day. But she couldn’t skip dinner. She was hungry and her candy stash was depleting quickly. Plus she couldn’t live off sweets. She had to go.

As she walked into the great hall, she felt nervous about what she was going to do. She didn’t want to face this right now. She was going to just keep on walking and make her way towards Luna. But once she entered she only made it a short distance before her entire mind went blank when she made eye contact with Fred. Hermione saw her next and started to stand up to make her way towards her. She has to get out of here.

Maybe she could live off her candy for a couple more days. She turned around quickly and started to make her way towards the door. But someone grabbed her hand. Not right here.

“Come sit here (y/l/n)”, Draco said as she looked down at him. He was sitting by himself and that was unusual considering that his friends were always around.

“Your friends won’t mind”, she questioned him. She noticed that her friends had all turned their attention to her and Draco. They were all looking at them.

“It doesn’t matter what they think.”

She looked at Draco and then at Hermione who was still standing and assessing the situation. She took her hand away from Draco’s grasp and sat down next to him. She turned to look at them one more time. They looked extremely confused at her actions. Fred looked at her with obvious annoyance on his face. She couldn’t believe he even thought he had the right to be annoyed.

She knew she couldn’t run from them, but she would deal with that another day.

I’m thinking of maybe continuing this??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

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liyuesbian · 4 years ago

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✧ 101 dalmatians!au [ayaka]

notes: ........this is actually an updated (not rly) version of my 101 dalmatians!au with seulgi on my kpop gg writing blog..... sorryyyy i'm not being lazy i promise!! i've just got back from holiday and am working on a ningguang x reader but it might take a while (i rly wanna perfect it) so this is a placeholder for now :p

you would occasionally spot kamisato ayaka in the park walking her dalmatian. she's well-known around the local area because of her older brother: the mayor of the city. in fact, you also have a dog of the same breed, which is what drew you to her in the first place—minus her eye-catchingly extravagant outfits and cute facial features.

your own dalmatian is wonderful. when you were ten years old, your christmas wish was to get a puppy. much to your younger self’s disappointment, santa claus had gifted you with a rather large—and older—"puppy" than you had imagined in your head. nevertheless, you treated the newly named pongo with as much love as you could give him.

fast forward about ten years later and here is the same pongo eagerly trying to gain your attention as you sit in front of your piano. you’re thinking of how best to go about composing the last few bars of a song you’re working on.

unbeknownst to you, the dalmatian had sneakily altered the time of the clock and is now motioning to the door, howling. you double-check the time on your wristwatch but despite the inconsistency, you decide to go for the daily walk and attach a leash to his collar. it seems like you have no other choice: pongo has your hat between his teeth and is scratching at the door handle. you laugh as you give in to your dog’s contagious enthusiasm, taking your fedora from his mouth.

with the leash in one hand and a ball in the other, you are manhandled—or should i say doghandled—as pongo drags you all the way to the park. he appears to be looking for something, but you dismiss it. you attempt to undo the clasp of the leash, failing when pongo suddenly dashes off.

“slow down, pongo!” you yelp. this kind of high-energy behaviour isn’t new to you but it certainly catches you off-guard. in the end, you let your dog indulge himself in his antics and you’re led to the edge of the lake where you take a seat and gasp for breath. goodness, you don’t think you’ve ever done so much running in your life.

exhausted, you fan yourself with your fedora and loosen the top button on your dress shirt. the grass underneath you feels nice to rest on compared to the wooden chair you’d been sitting on for the whole morning.

it takes you a second to notice your companion gazing at a certain animal behind you. turning around, you recognise the dalmatian who’s seized pongo’s eyes from her pink collar and apprehensively look up to the owner. she’s perched on a bench next to the dog with her signature fan and a book in her hands. in shock, you jerk your head forward and blink a few times.

should we move somewhere else?

as if sensing your uneasiness, pongo barks and jumps to grab your hat. you sigh but grin at his mischievous face.

“come on, pongo. give it back.” taking her eyes off the pages of her book, ayaka glances at you and your dog, the ends of her mouth curving up ever so slightly to form a smile which stays hidden behind the upright fan. you throw the ball lightly in an attempt to get him to drop your hat.

it doesn't quite work and instead, rolls in the direction of the occupied bench. perdita, ayaka's dalmatian, glimpses at it, trying to withhold the urge to play with the bouncy toy. ayaka chuckles which causes you to cease your glaring at pongo to face her. the ringing of her laugh is pleasant and something you haven’t noticed before.

if only i could hear it every day. gently, you hit your cheeks to awaken yourself from your thoughts.

pongo is now frolicking in circles with the captured hat, vying for the attention of ayaka's dog. while you’re battling a two-way argument in your head and one with your dalmatian, you feel a soft nudge on your thigh. perdita has given you the ball back, and you could hear pongo whimpering sadly. impressed, you pet perdita who reacts with a delightful pant. the female dalmatian glances at pongo and apathetically walks back to her owner, who attaches a leash. they start to walk away.

pongo yaps in surprise. quickly, he abandons your hat and is about to take off when you tell him to stay, which he does obediently. you could tell your dog is planning to go after perdita, but you don’t want him running around aimlessly so you fasten his leash.

as soon as you do though, you’re being hauled once again towards kamisato ayaka. the hyperactive dalmatian follows the blue-haired woman and playfully circles her, earning a giggle from the subject of interest. unfortunately for the both of you, your legs have gotten tied to hers.

“oh my, i'm very sorry about this!” you blush. of course, you’ve never been in such close quarters with her before making it all the more embarrassing but you don’t entirely regret this moment either… until you realise that with the both of you frantically trying to get out of the awkward position and your dog pulling at the leash, the result would be all three of you tethering on the edge of the lake and perdita helplessly grabbing onto her owner to prevent the fall.

“oh no.” a splash is heard throughout the park.

clothes damp, you sit in the shallow water in cold shock, finding yourself no longer tangled around the dog leash. next to you, ayaka stands up to try searching for her hat and fan which pongo finds and gives to you with an almost apologetic expression.

“it seems i've lost my belongings,” she says worriedly.

“don’t worry, i have the things you're looking for right here.” you hand her her possessions and fix her hair but to no avail.

“ah, thank you.” you brush her wet bangs to the side so she could see.

“i'm truly very sorry! i don’t know how we ended up in the lake of all things.” you apologise profusely to the bewildered lady and attempt to make things better by removing the plants from her clothes. meanwhile, pongo has shaken himself dry and is relaxing next to perdita.

gosh, what kind of situation have i gotten myself into?

“no, it’s alright, i'll just dry myself off for now.” you see ayaka fetching a… soaked handkerchief from her purse.

“hold on, i usually carry one in my pocket.” however, yours too, is also drenched. “oh—"

ayaka begins to giggle. dumbfounded, you laugh with her. both of your dogs glance at each other and back at the pair of you, cocking their heads. you thought the pleasant sound and amicable smile were the only things about her laughter that could make your heart swell but now, with ayaka right in front of you, you notice things you would’ve never been able to before. you witness how her eyes crinkle and close shut and how her cheeks balloon revealing an even more charming side to her. you wonder what it would be like if you could make her this happy all the time.

after helping ayaka out of the pond, you feel it wouldn’t be right to leave her to go home all doused in water.

“would it be possible to invite you to our house? we live close by so it would be no trouble at all if you want to dry off there. it would probably be very uncomfortable to journey home in this state and i can't bear to watch you attempt to.” shyly, you meet her eyes after your impromptu offer to see ayaka grinning.

“i think i'd like to accept that offer. i suppose it is your fault too!” she quips and jokingly nudges your shoulder.

you smile back and turn to face your dalmatian who you will whisper many thank yous to later in life.

#AGAIN IM SO SORRY IF U'VE READ THIS ALR but it only has 40 notes on my other blog and i rly love this au 😤#call me an attention seeker i do not care PWAHAHA #might do this again with my pride and prejudice!au LMAOOO i was also super proud of that but it only has 2 notes :')#ayaka x reader #ayaka #genshin #genshin impact #genshin ayaka #ayaka genshin impact #ayaka imagines #ayaka fluff #ayaka au #genshin x reader #kamisato ayaka #ayaka headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin au #genshin headcanons

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

#my writing #my fics #queen fanfic #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may x reader #brian may smut #john deacon x reader #john deacon smut

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yan-twst · 5 years ago

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Hi can i request yandere savanaclaw and pomefiore when their s/o finally succumbs to stockholm syndrome? Good luck with your writing!

warnings: general yandere content, vague mentions of physical abuse, toxic relationships, drug use

leona kingscholar

cats enjoy to play with their food, but leona won’t deny it’s just nice to finally have some peace and quiet with his darling

as much fun as it was when they were so jumpy and finicky, as much as he enjoyed watching the light in their eyes die out in panic, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get tiring after a while

leona relishes in the meek affection, months and months of being terrorized and threatened by someone as powerful as leona has taught them to be nice and obedient, and leona fully enjoys the attention

he can nap safely, knowing they won’t dare move from their spot held into his chest. before, they might have thought they could run- take advantage of his sleeping- but they know better now, don’t they?

he’s their king. he’s their everything, really. leona isn’t a very mushy guy, but when he’s holding his little herbivore in his arms... he feels a sense of future. they’re his; he’ll decide their fate, he’ll be their one and only

leona doesn’t talk a lot about it, but he’s already decided his darling will be a stay-at-home spouse. he may not have a solid idea of what his future with them looks like, but he knows for sure it’ll be pleasant for him

he’s shaped his darling into a perfect, subservient partner. he adores being pampered- love, he wants to be loved, he’s spent so long being unwanted and feared and hated he needs to be loved show him he’s wanted assure him he’s their king- and he’ll make his darling hold him as he sleeps

leona thoroughly relishes in his darling as they cling to him, forgetting their past life before being kidnapped. sure, he sometimes misses their spunk, the way they{d act before; but he much prefers the way they stick to him now, reassure him they won’t ever run, to please keep them around

ruggie bucci

ruggie has spent the entirety of the “relationship” groveling and vying for attention and affection from his darling

oh, sure, he found their defiance beautiful before. he found their fear and their tears beautiful, too. but really, ruggie just wants them to be his

yes, entirely, purely his. ruggie needs something to call his own: not the clothes he got as hand-me-downs he’ll have to hand down, not the cash he gives to his grandma and to the kids in his street- his darling is entirely his, and the fact they understand this makes him ecstatic

they’re broken? stockholm’s? oh, who cares? everything is perfect now, so does it really matter the process it took to get here?

ruggie relishes in returning from work to his darling, embracing them, nuzzling into their chest, facing no resistance.

it’s such a relief they aren’t trying to run away, really; buying locks and fixing the doors and windows isn’t cheap. they didn’t understand he was working hard for their future together, but it’s fine now, because they understand now, right? right?

seeing they’ve completely given up on running away or going home, ruggie relaxes- and by that i mean he takes on more jobs

it pains him to be away from his darling, especially when they beg for him to stay- perhaps he should’ve been more careful, breaking his previously normal and strong darling into a clingy and meek lover- but in his brain, it just makes sense. he needs to provide for his lover, right?

because in ruggie’s brain, he’s got it all planned out. he’s getting out of the slums and building the perfect life with his darling, of course- he doesn’t want them to work a day of their life, he wants their life to be picture perfect, as he works to provide a nice life. isn’t that all they need, really?

jack howl

jack is... torn

he’s been justifying his actions as “protection”- this is just his instinct to protect his mate, his instinct to protect his partner, it’s normal, he’s normal- but he knows it’s... wrong.

it terrifies him when he notices his darling stop fighting back. it terrifies him when the fear in their eyes is replaced with love, to see how they’re suddenly so dependent on him

oh, don’t get him wrong, he loves it. he relishes in the affection, in how they seek him out; they patiently sit in his room, ask to accompany him in his early morning jogs just to spend some time with him, care for his plants when he’s gone; they act almost as if they were there of his own will

and perhaps that’s why the other, rational side of him is terrified. they shouldn’t be so comfortable with him, not after all he’s done. oh, don’t get him wrong, he’d never push them away, he’d never let them go; even if they’ve stopped trying to run, he won’t leave the doors unlocked, but the mere fact they don’t even think to try is...

... he’s broken them, for sure. it has to be.

and yet he can’t bring himself to feel bad. wolves only love one person, their one and only mate. perhaps this is fate- they’re his one and only, maybe they’ve realized that. that there’s nobody else for them, that they’re meant to be with him

jack worries, still. this is fine, it is- he adores it, he relishes in it, but how far can it go...? he’ll have moments when he panics; is this love or a way his darling is coping with his actions? he’ll hold them, requesting they assure him; they love him, they really love him, right?

vil schoenheit

... by the time vil realizes his darling’s succumbed to stockholm syndrome, they’re in deep.

because vil makes a habit of slipping love potions to his darling to keep them docile and affectionate, he’ll write up their behaviour to the potions- perhaps their body has become used to them...? some sort of new reaction to the usual formula?

it’s when vil realizes the potion should’ve worn off but his darling isn’t kicking and crying or trembling that it hits him- something has changed

of course, it’s not the same. a love potion turns his darling into a malleable, meek, almost delirious doll- but his darling off the potion is usually... well, they usually fight back, scream and cry; they’re ungrateful, trying to escape vil’s care

but they... aren’t doing that, despite vil knowing the potion should have worn off hours ago

they’re quiet, looking at vil as if waiting for instructions; they play with the edge of their shirt

vil is almost overwhelmed. this is- this is all he’s wanted. this is how it should have been from day one.

he might not lay off the love potions; he doesn’t trust this “moment of clarity” as he calls it; he fears that one day his darling will return to their fear, to their shaking, trying to escape

but as time goes on, he learns that something has changed. at night, they cuddle up to him voluntarily, they let him dress them up, take care of them; and they only seem to worry about making him happy and meeting his expectations

it’s a turning point for vil. he’s been using love potions and other substances to keep his darling pliant- they have so much potential but just wouldn’t let him polish them- but now they are putty in his hands, trying so hard to meet his expectations, to earn his attention...

vil will tighten the leash. if they’re now reaching for affection and approval, he’ll play with the carrot and stick- slowly shaping them more and more into his ideal lover, rewarding their good actions with the affection and praise their isolated and broken spirit craves so much, and punishing all actions he deems “unsightly”

oh sure, his actions have already changed his darling beyond belief, but it’s not enough. vil will keep pushing, pushing and pushing- perhaps until something breaks

rook hunt

when an animal is hurt enough, it gives up; it stops running away, lies down to bleed to death or to be captured by its predator. that’s how he sees the situation; the “hunting” period is over, his darling’s given up

he can’t say it surprises him. all humans must have limits- being stalked, then kidnapped, being caught again and again, he understands how that must whittle down someone... oh, but it was all born from love, so it’s all ok, isn’t it?

indeed, this is just the next step in the relationship

his darling might not be running or jumping at shadows anymore, but rook is a lover of all love languages. he’ll gladly accept the physical affection that comes with his darling’s broken spirit

affectionate as always, rook doesn’t seem to care at all that his darling’s state is anything but natural. it’s almost something out of a romance book, the way they’ve come around, isn’t it?

because much of their time was spent fearing rook, running from him, being hurt as punishment, they’ve learnt to associate all these things with him. when they’re scared they call for him, they associate being chased with being loved, being hurt with affection. rook has perhaps used pavlovian conditioning to turn his darling into someone who couldn’t possibly survive outside of his care

a domestic animal cannot survive in the wild, rook knows this. and when he looks at his darling, who has become so used to their life locked inside, vying for their captor’s attention, sleeping so peacefully in his bed, he’s more sure than ever they belong nowhere outside of his sight

epel felmier

epel is a bit shocked, but he takes the situation with open arms

the one thing he wants the most is to be seen as strong, reliable, manly. he wants his darling to see him as everything he wants to be seen as, he wants to eliminate the image of him being “weak” or “fragile” from their mind

he often takes out his frustrations of being perceived in such ways onto them, too. he knows it’s not their fault per se, but god, it’s frustrating, and it’s not like he has many chances to let go off steam in a healthy way

on one hand, it’s a bit bittersweet. as much as he hates to say it, seeing his darling be scared of him gave him... some sort of power rush. oh, it made him feel so powerful, it really did, when he’d raise his voice and they’d flinch, when he’d grab them by the neck of the shirt when he was particularly pissed and they’d tense up. it’s wrong and fucked up- but it made him feel like he was the world’s most threatening man in his darling’s eyes

but well, having his darling settle into the “relationship” is also quite nice. he’s grown up seeing quiet, traditional marriages all through his childhood- he feels like he’s finally like those strong men who come back to their spouse each day, back to a loving partner who greets him with a smile and a kiss (and then he unlocks the chain around their ankle, and he praises them for not tugging at it, he can tell because there’s no friction burns, he’s so proud of them)

besides, just because his darling’s given up on escape, has somehow settled into a sort of fucked up routine, doesn’t mean epel is just magically fixing all the problems. he’s the problem- the way he loves, the way his heart tells him to take, take, take, to be reassured, to be in power- but they learn to try and rationalize it

it’s love, right? it- it has to be love, yes. epel is sweet. epel is nice. epel is sweet and nice and strong and he’s only doing what’s needed. epel isn’t horrible he isn’t a monster no how could they ever think that no he doesn’t hurt them he would never make them scared on purpose- it’s almost painful to watch his darling rationalize their captor’s behaviour, to relish the days epel carves apples for them and handfeeds them, to try and justify the days he ignores them and threatens them because he’s been pushed to the limit by vil

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucci #jack howl #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #Anonymous

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penaltbox · 4 years ago

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two can play - roman ahcan

this fic belongs to @puckyess just as much as it does to me, if not more! if you like it you have to make sure you tell her thank you just as much as you tell me, which we both really need you guys to tell us what you think because this one was an absolute gem to write and create for you guys. if you like it, reblog it, let us know. thank you!!

word count: 14k (uh holy shit lol)

The bar is busy when you get there, but you manage to get in and get your drink. What you don’t understand is how you ended up flirting with this cute boy that’s all smiles and curls. He seems completely enamored with you and you even notice his friends checking on him every now and again. It’s one of those friends that catches your attention even more than the boy vying for your attention though.

You keep looking over at the other brunette, exchanging glances that feel like you’re getting away with something. It’s almost like a challenge to the other boy. He’s getting to look at you and exchange flirty smiles and smirks all while his friend has no idea it’s going on. It seems like a fun game to you and you let it continue the rest of your night. The friend you’d gotten to entertain in the meantime is plenty cute enough though so when the curly haired boy, Owen as you’d found out, had asked for your number you had no reason to tell him no. In fact, you gladly agreed.

You exchange numbers, thinking you’ll probably never see the cute boy whose attention you managed to hold while never exchanging a word, but oh would you be wrong. You’d be so wrong and it would turn into a game that almost ruined things for you between multiple boys. The initial realization that things were trouble comes when Owen invites you over to his apartment a few days later to hang out.

Unbeknownst to you, Owen had been raving to his roommate about how interested in you he was. Roman knows Owen is oblivious to what happened that night and he has no reason to pop the younger boy’s bubble, so he lets him ramble on. Roman gets annoyed, wishing he’d talked to you even a little bit that night, but he hadn’t so now he had to sit and listen to his friend have the time of his life with you. He really thought he’d missed his chance at you, but oh would he be wrong.

Roman had done the bare minimum that night and he kicked himself for it now as Owen showed him pictures on your Instagram. He’d honestly thought you’d maybe come talk to him after all the glances that had been exchanged that night but you were apparently just as stubborn as him. You’d also found him on Instagram through Owen and you’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t looked through his pictures a few times just to see that sly little smirk again.

As you get to Owen’s apartment the last thing on your mind is the possibility of his cute teammate being there. Owen practically breaks an ankle getting to the door when he hears a knock and Roman is two seconds from chirping him when he catches sight of you. You lean in to hug Owen and Roman immediately smiles at the sight of you. When Owen steps out of the way you two make eye contact instantly and he sees how your eyes go wide, but you match his smirk once again. The energy picks back up right where you two had left it at the bar. Owen offers a polite introduction of the two of you before offering to grab you a drink.

He leads you over to the couch and pats it before heading off into the other room. You mind your own business, thinking Roman was in the other room with Owen, when two hands press into the couch on either side of your shoulders. Roman leans down, his lips hovering near your ear when he lowers his voice so only you can hear.

“So you like to play games, huh?”

Your jaw drops for a second, skin practically buzzing at how close he was to you. You can feel the heat radiating off him, but you quickly pick up your jaw, turning to look at him with a proud little smile, “I sure do and I absolutely hate losing.”

Your response makes his blood boil with the anticipation of a good challenge. He had expected you to back down. He doesn’t get the chance to shoot back though because Owen comes back into the room with impeccable timing.

“What’d I miss? Are you two playing nice in here?” he asks, completely oblivious, but his question couldn’t be more fitting.

Roman laughs and it’s a sound you think you could drown in. He’d pulled away so fast you swore you felt a breeze and you can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek from across the room. Owen is all smiles as he sits next to you, handing you a bottle of water. Roman sticks around the entire time you hang out, continuing to steal looks and heated glances with you. He made no effort to hide when he’d check you out and something about it only fueled whatever it was the two of you had started.

He behaves, more or less, the rest of the night otherwise and Owen seems none the wiser. He slips up slightly when Owen slips an arm around your shoulders and he lets out a cough, but he quickly covers it by claiming he needed a drink of his own. Owen gives you a confused look and mentions that he found it weird, but he doesn’t bring it up any further than that. By the time you’re set to leave you can’t even look at Roman for fear of breaking into a grin so he gives you a simple nod when you get up to go but you know he watches you on the way out.

You’re left with a constant thread of thoughts that involve Roman once you leave rather than the boy who had initially invited you to hang out. You get home despite the daze you’re in and get ready for bed. When you crawl under your covers that night there’s a notification from Instagram and then suddenly another. You have a new follower notification, but more than that, you have a message waiting in your DMs.

‘Game on. I don’t play fair.’

You roll over and press your face into your pillow, letting out a little scream. You can’t wipe the smile off of your face from those five words and you know right then that Roman Ahcan really might be the death of you. He already knew the power he held over you so you leave him on read to send him a message that two can play this game.

It haunts Roman for the next three days that you leave him on read. He thinks about it constantly and the couple times he’s seen you are like an endless movie reel that plays in his brain. He’s pretty sure Owen has no idea, which he’s thankful for, because even at practice you manage to find a way to distract his thoughts. He was guilty of taking the frustration of trying to chase someone else’s interest out by checking his teammates a little too hard, but he had to do something to calm his mind down. He makes a note to himself after their last practice of the week to push the game along that weekend at the party. He knew you’d be coming but you, and Owen, had no clue what Roman had planned for the two of you.

When you show up to their apartment again that Saturday you feel his eyes on you the moment you step inside. You find him in the sea of people first, eyes meeting as usual, and smirking at each other. It was almost routine at this point even with the party in full swing. You throw him a wink and move your attention elsewhere, needing to find the boy you’d actually shown up to see. It worries you a bit when you have to actively look for Owen after so easily finding Roman in the busy space.

You manage to find Owen eventually and you give him a big hug. He really was a sweet boy and you had a lot of fun whenever you were with him. You get introduced to his teammates that are around and he easily hooks an arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side. Roman tries to shake his thoughts off as he realizes he’d been watching the door most of the night until you got there. When did he get like this?

He decides to try and distract himself by flirting hard with the first girl that comes up to him, but he finds himself looking over at you when he leans down to hear the girl talk. You’re already staring at him and you raise your eyebrows at his actions. You shake your head and quickly turn your attention back to the conversation you’d been in. He was bold, that was for sure. You were sitting on Owen’s lap, playing with his curls, and Roman still had the guts to try and get you worked up. Unfortunately, it worked too. Roman almost instantly lets the girl go once he loses your attention though, claiming he needs another drink despite his being half full.

He catches you out of the corner of his eye as he pretends to dig through the fridge, watching as you head for the bathroom. He follows you, waiting until you’re opening the door to back you up and shut the door behind you two. You’re surprised, but you recognize what he’s doing right away. He knew he had to catch you off guard and honestly, you gave him credit. This gave you both a bit of privacy for a second without seeming suspicious.

“Uh, personal space?”

He smirks, of course, at your question and pins you against the counter. It’s instantly much closer than he’s ever been, but his only question is “so what are the rules for this game?”

“Rule #1 is you can look but you can’t touch,” you say glancing down to where his chest is practically touching yours. You take your finger and poke his chest, pushing him away from you and trying to move around him in the small place.

He pouts as you poke his chest but steps back. You don’t expect him to give in so easily and you smile, thinking you’d earned another leg up on him. That is until he leans back against the door, blocking you in once again.

“I don’t really like that rule,” he shrugs, “so good luck getting out of here with that one.”

You’d never backed down from a challenger before and you weren’t going to start now, even if you should so you cross your arms and say fine and sit yourself on the edge of the tub scrolling through your phone as if you weren’t completely bothered by his presence. He’s shocked when you just sit on the tub and act so nonchalant. He’s supposed to be making you more fired up so he can win.

He frowns for a second but flips the lock on the door handle and walks over to you, “what if I break the rules? I don’t lose technically because one of us has to give up to lose, right?”

You’re lucky he has to turn his back to flip the lock on the door handle so that he doesn’t see you swallow hard when he does it. Just being in a small space like that with him had you on high alert but ready to give him back whatever attitude he was dealing out. It was an addicting feeling to have around him. He doesn’t hesitate to hover close to you after he asks the question and you pretend to think about it.

That is, until he picks a spot on the floor that’s dangerously close to your thigh to stop, but finally you say, “Actually, I believe you’re the one who can look but not touch, but there’s no rule saying that I can’t touch, right Ro?”

You stand despite the extreme lack of space between the two of you still and start to comb your fingers through his hair. You watch his jaw tense when you all but press against him and run your hand through his hair. As hard as it is to tear your eyes from the muscle twitching in his jaw, it’s totally worth it when you bring your eyes up to meet his and you see the fire that’s there. You have to play it cool because he looks so good when he does it, but you lose your composure when he grabs your wrist and tugs you the rest of the way against him.

“Remember when you said you don’t play fair? I think I may have to take that line and borrow it. Your rule then is that you can’t kiss Owen in front of me.”

When he grabs your wrist, you’re thankful to have somewhere else to look for fear that you might lose it right there in that bathroom. He manages to leave you speechless and walks out the door like he didn’t just rock your world. You have half a mind to storm right after him but that would mean he was winning and you couldn’t have him thinking that. Instead you walk right back out there and announce to Owen that it was probably time for you to go. When you see Roman catch your eye, you add “back to my place” just loud enough for him to hear.

Roman’s glad he’s thrown you off enough and he can tell you’re flustered when you finally come make your announcement about leaving for the night. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with Owen and (most of) his friends, but you were all out of sorts after the bathroom incident and you needed to clear your head. Owen is surprised to hear you say that and when he falters for just a second Roman steps in.

“I can walk you home and make sure you get back safe. I was just about to head out too” he smiles nicely and you feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head.

Owen happily, to your chagrin, obliges, “oh perfect! I was just about to start a game of fortnite here otherwise I’d take you so this works for everyone.”

And yeah technically it did but now you and Roman were about to really be alone for once. Your thoughts are already racing as you look between these two boys. The options weren’t bad really, but could you survive this? Was it worth finding out who was better? Maybe you could see a relationship with Owen, he was sweet, funny, smart. Maybe you could see it if Roman and his big ego wasn’t in your way. You’re completely unsure at the moment, though you know there’s a little extra something when it comes to Roman, and you catch the eye of the older boy and his seemingly permanent smirk is turned on you.

Roman can tell he’s got you right where he wants you when you demand to leave. Admittedly, he thinks you’re inviting Owen back with you when you first say it and he starts to panic that he pushed you in the wrong direction so he’d stepped up with the offer to walk you, and only you, home. You have no reason to be mad at Owen, he has no idea what’s going on between you two, but your irritation with Roman shows in your tone when you snap a “fine” to Owen.

Walking out the door without a goodbye leaves him confused, but he figures maybe something is wrong since you’re leaving so suddenly. Roman has to move quick to leave when you suddenly do but he’s hot on your heels. You barely glance over your shoulder to see where he’s at but when you have to wait for the elevator he stands next to you as close as possible.

“You better behave,” you tell him, looking up at him.

“Scout’s honor” Roman says holding up his hand, but with that smirk you know there is definitely no honor there.

When you step in the elevator you expect him to stand as close as he possibly can without touching you like he did in the bathroom, but instead he leans his back on the opposite wall, seemingly collected and cool while your blood runs hot. The stare down he gives you is intense and makes you wish that he actually was close enough to run your hand through his hair again. You hate how easily he can cloud your judgement after being around him so few times. You weren’t sure how the connection between you two was so strong, but it had a way of getting to you before you even realized it.

“Are you undressing me in your head?” He crudely questions you.

Before you can argue back Owen shoots you a ‘let me know you get home safe’ because of course he’s sweet like that. It throws you off for a second before you scoff at Roman’s question in the small space but you do let yourself look, “you’re awfully bold, you know that?”

“That’s not a no,” he boasts, and almost on purpose you swear, runs a hand through his hair. He has no problem telling you, “but I definitely have undressed you in my head. I prefer to do it in front of your boy though.”

Owen’s text gets a second glance as you roll your eyes and try disregarding his comment. You figured Roman was done, but when he realizes he’s being ignored and seeing you smile at your phone, who he presumes to be Owen, that’s when Roman kicks it up a notch and puts the emphasis of his last sentence on “your boy”. You shrug, trying to not let him see how much it affected you, how much you wanted it… or him?

“Well I guess that does follow the rules....and here I thought you were a rule breaker, Ahcan.”

The elevator doors open for you to waltz out of, karma on your side for the moment. You can’t help but feel like you won that round despite him seeming to have it taken care of with his out of pocket comment. He’d noticed you let out a little laugh at the phrase he called Owen though and that lets him know you and Owen were definitely still getting to know each other and nothing close to official.

“I break rules at the right times though,” he follows you closely, tucking right against your side as you walk, “when it helps me win.”

You give him a confused look but head for your apartment. He breaks his one and only rule when you open the door to the complex and he lays his hand on the small of your back as he holds the door open with an arm over your head. His remark about winning has you starting to think about what exactly it would mean to “win” but don’t have much time to give it more thought because the feeling of his hand is burned into your back and the act of holding the door is also not lost on you. The touch gives you a little shiver that he doesn’t miss but he behaves the rest of the way to your apartment. When you put the key in the lock though he speaks up, “aren’t you going to invite me in?”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry at his question. You could either send him on his way with a ‘try again next time’ or you could go against your better judgement and let him in, surprising yourself and him. It would practically be a crime to shut the fun down after he walked you all the way back so a simple “if you swear you’ll behave” and a smirk as you walk into your place and leave the door open is what you give him.

He had hoped you’d say yes, but he hadn’t actually thought you’d agree so when you do he’s a little puppy scurrying beside you before you change your mind. You try to go about your business as if he wasn’t there, changing out of your party clothes into sweats and throwing your hair up. Padding into the kitchen, you grab a glass and turn around to see him standing in the middle of the room watching you. He looks totally out of his element now that he’s on your territory. He had just kind of tapped away on his phone as you went about what you were doing but you don’t miss the softer smile he gives you when he sees you come back to the kitchen in your comfy clothes.

“Are you planning on staying a while or?” You ask motioning to him with another glass in your hand.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he says with a smirk. He’s slick though, so he grabs his glass and comes around the counter to stand much closer to you.

You snort a little at his response but pour the wine into his glass anyway and set it on the counter for him to retrieve it. You boost yourself up on the counter and watch as he leans his hand next to your thigh and decides that’s the best place to start a conversation.

Your brain speaks for your heart though when you suddenly have an idea, “I have another rule. For both of us this time though. No one gets hurt. We can be all fun and games with this, but you don’t hurt me and I won’t hurt you. Deal?”

He tried to busy himself and figure out what the heck he was doing here. Yeah he wanted you, he had already made that clear but what was his end game and what was he going to do now that he had you all to himself tonight? His proximity is so close you don’t know how he’s not touching you and the weight of your request hangs heavily between you two. It feels both natural and charged to have him this close, but he knows if anything, he’ll make sure to keep you safe no matter what. When you state that rule, all of his cockiness from before dissolves and it’s a surprise to you.

“I would never hurt you” he promises.

You’re probably a fool to believe him but the way he looks at you, you do. He feels comfortable though so you trust him, and how close he is, even with the added alcohol. Things only get more flirty and before you realize it he’s standing between your legs to talk to you, free hand on your thigh as his thumbs rub circles.

“So really, you would pick Owen over me? I mean he’s nice and all but I’m way more fun,” he says, and the smile he has is so genuine that you’re both starting to forget the game that was at stake.

You hadn’t exactly given in but you’d let him a whole lot closer than he was expecting to get already. You were both just tipsy enough to know exactly what you were doing and also not give a damn. His question, from what it’s asking, to the way he words it to the tone of his voice is intriguing. The smile is genuine, there’s no smirk. The way he chews his lip after he asks lets you know he’s a little nervous about what you might say. You said he couldn’t hurt you and he was pretty sure you wouldn’t hurt him but he didn’t want to be made a fool of either. It’s almost like he’s staying it as a fact, but there’s a slight waver to his voice, something in his tone that lends itself toward insecurity- truly wanting to know if you would pick Owen over him.

Does he think about what your answer could lead to? No. Do you have to think, even a minute before you respond? No.

“It doesn’t matter who I’d pick, the real question is would you pick me?”

You both knew there was an imaginary line drawn and both were working on seeing how far they could push that line. Roman has to take a minute to think of his response, but he’s sure of it.

“I would pick you, but maybe not the same way Owen would.”

You swallow hard realizing your request to not get hurt may be more difficult for him than you originally thought. In his mind, he stayed true to the rule of not hurting you by being as honest as he could in his answer. When he watches the way you swallow hard and sees the flicker of hope in your eyes vanish, replaced by a mischievous gleam he knows he’s in for it. You had to think quickly to defend your heart. He’s suddenly more defensive of his own heart than he thought when he sees the quickness of your shift in emotions. He swears it’s because he doesn’t want to lose, but there’s also a small part of him that could see you two together. He has to squash that down though or he’ll be in too deep, too fast.

You know you have to protect yourself so you go on the offensive, “I guess I just really need to step it up then. After all, you’re the one with the no touching rule you can’t follow.”

He frowns, wondering what you mean before you down the last of your wine and put the glass down. You turn your attention to him and slip your arms around his shoulders and start to play with the ends of his curls as you pull him closer. The fact that he has to chant “win the game” in his head to stay focused should be a good indicator that there’s more to it than that. You have to protect yourself because he had already warned you that he doesn’t play fair and his admission that his intentions were far from the warmth and safety that Owen provided was proof of that.

The frown on his face shifts into a look of content as he leans into your touch. Your fingers continue their movements as you still pull him closer and closer, gauging his reaction. You can see his mind working overtime trying to figure out his next move.

“What’re you doing?” He mumbles, not making any move to halt your actions. Instead of answering his question you lean in so close your lips are almost touching, his eyes fluttering closed.

You give him credit for not closing the millimeter of distance, “do you think you could handle sleeping in the same bed without touching me, baby?”

You’re both in deep trouble and you’re well aware of it but there’s also no chance either of you give in yet. It’s nice to have the chase though, the attention so solely focused on you. You have to watch it when you start to think how easy it feels to be so wrapped up and close with him even if your stomach hasn’t stopped flipping since he stood between your legs. He immediately opens his eyes at the question and you realize how close you two are suddenly. It makes your cheeks burn hot and the smirk on his face doesn’t help.

“Aw, do you need me to stay and make sure you’re safe? Or is this your way or getting me into bed with you on day one?”

You refused to lose and he shared that same mentality. You told yourself the contact was to get him worked up but was that really true when you felt your own heart race with every inch being closed between the two of you? Your cheeks were already flushed and you were 100% blaming it on the wine and not the devilish smirk he was giving you.

“Funny, I don’t recall actually asking you into my bed? Just if you could handle it, but I guess we both know the answer to that one. Now, why don’t you see yourself out.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, shocked at the move you’d managed to pull on him, “oh yeah?”

“I have a date with Owen in the morning” you smirk. Your eyes automatically flick to where, as you predicted, his jaw was clenched.

“Well then”, he says pushing himself from you, “I’ll be sure to remind him of that when I get back to my place.”

He wastes no time heading for the exit and he’s closing your door maybe a little harder than necessary without so much as a goodbye. Without him in your space you can finally breathe for what feels like the first time that night, but you suddenly feel lonely. You reach for your phone and finally respond to Owen’s text from when you first left and ask him if he wants to get brunch with you in the morning since now you had to make good on your lie.

The whole way home Roman curses himself for not just taking you up on your offer of sleeping with you, even if he couldn’t touch you. Who knows when he would get that chance again? He never let his guard down like that and got walked over but you’d done it so easily. He considers going back to your door but he can’t. Not the first time anyways. He gets to breathe too when he’s not all wrapped up in you with your hands in his hair.

Owen almost too easily agrees to brunch and you find yourself missing the fight that Ro puts up. You try and talk yourself out of it but it’s pretty obvious who has your attention now. In your haste to get to bed to end the previous day you had left your’s and Roman’s wine glasses on the counter. Owen seems to find them almost immediately upon arriving before your impromptu brunch date.

“Did you have someone over last night?” Owen asks you, his brows knit together.

You were in your room still trying to make yourself not look like last night had ever happened when you heard his question from the kitchen. You pretend to not hear him and pray that he doesn’t repeat it. What were you supposed to say? ‘Yeah, I almost slept with your roommate? And then invited you to brunch because I wanted to make him mad’? You had made Roman promise to not hurt you but you begin to realize Owen could be a big piece of collateral damage and there needs to be another rule about keeping him safe, too.

Owen brushes the second glass off, thinking it’s probably your roommate who had it. As you walk to brunch, he takes your hand and smiles over at you, “Roman got you home safe then last night?”

You keep your eyes on the ground as a little wave of panic runs over you but you manage a response somehow, “yeah he made sure I got here. Dropped me off at the elevator and headed out.”

Owen buys it when you give him a little smile. He seems happy knowing his friend did what he assumed was a good thing. At hearing your response though he starts to think maybe he should take that next step and ask you to officially be his girlfriend. You seemed to fit in his life nicely and he liked you enough that he couldn’t imagine you being with someone else. You make a mental note of mentioning that new rule to Roman and you wonder why it even has to be a rule at all. Why can’t you just let Owen go, harm free why were you still holding onto him?

Roman is so worked up that he manages to avoid you for the entire week but once again, there’s a party that next Saturday and you’re stuck locking eyes with him as soon as you walk through the door. The night is a shit show, to say the least. He’s got a girl trying to hold his attention and he gives it to her once he sees you. It makes your blood boil but you retreat to Owen’s side. It’s full of those loaded looks and his games are working, why couldn’t he pick less obnoxious girls at least? But he chose the ones with tiny waists and loud voices, ones that draped themselves all over him, their fake nails raking over his arms, gripping his thigh and running through the same head of hair that yours had been in last weekend.

Well, two could play that game. You made sure to be sitting on Owen’s lap and twirling the ends of his hair again, like you had with Roman’s. You even went as far as pretending to be cold so that he’d offer his sweatshirt, the one with his number branded across the sleeve. While you could tell Roman noticed, his eyes hardly left you all night even though he pretended not to care, he still made no move.

You wait for him to acknowledge you at all, or even talk to you, but it never comes. You’re one of the last people there when you make up your mind about your next move.

“I should probably head home now.”

You know he hears it and you leave it as an offer for him to repeat his actions from the last week, hoping he’ll step up again. When even your announcement to leave has no effect you take what’s left of your dignity and get up to go home. Owen pulls you back down for a kiss and as if on instinct you immediately turn your head to the side, his lips making contact with your cheek. ‘You can’t kiss Owen in front of me’ rang through your head. You feel bad as you stand up and see the hurt look on Owen’s face, his hands falling from your waist.

“I’ll, uhm,” he clears his throat, “I’ll walk you home.”

You don’t offer him any explanation for your behavior; you just nod, not catching Roman’s expression as you turn for the door. Your walk home is silent. O drops you off at your door, his hands hesitantly come up to brush the hair off your face from the wind.

“I’m not sure if I did something to upset you tonight, but if I did I’m sorry,” he tells you with a frown.

Your heart squeezes and you know how in the wrong you are. You shake your head, sighing. “you didn’t do anything, O. It’s me. I’m just having a night and I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Of course he agrees because he’s Owen and you’re thankful that he’s so patient with you. He, again, is hesitant as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead this time before he leaves. You give him a smile and he waits to hear you get inside and lock your door before heading back to his own apartment. You head right for your room and fall onto your bed, completely frustrated with everything when you hear a knock on your door.

You hesitate for a second at the noise, wondering if you were hearing things. There’s no way it was him. He doesn’t say anything when you first open the door either. Just leans against the frame and gives you that same small smile he’d given you the first night when you changed out of your party clothes.

You almost debate not opening the door at all, knowing nothing good can from him being here this late, but you know him well enough to know that he’d wake your neighbors in his pursuit before he gave up that easily. Your annoyance with him that night disappears the second you see the expression on his face. He’s grateful you open the door and don't curse him out the second you see him, he deserved it. Your stomach gets butterflies just seeing him there and instead of saying anything either you hold your hand out and let him take it before pulling him inside.

He grips your hand, well aware that it could be breaking rule #1, but he just doesn’t care. Right now he needed your touch and the fact that you were offering it after the way he acted tonight was reason enough for him to let go of the rules and give in. You lead him to the couch, not a word yet to be spoken between the two of you. You study him curiously, he’s chewing on his lip a sign that something was on his mind. You’re also aware of the way he takes you in as well. You were tired he could tell, but you also looked serene. Your body was facing his, your arm resting along the back of the couch like his, fingers tracing patterns on the back of his hand. He takes note of the fact that you’re still in Owen’s sweatshirt and makes a comment on it.

“Ya know, 13 would look a hell of a lot better on you” he says and immediately your fingers stop tracing and you pull away. ‘Fuck,’ he thinks ‘why did he start with that.’ He sighs running a hand over his face.

“You-”

“I know, I know; that was uncalled for,” he says, cutting you off, “I didn’t come here to start anything.”

You swallow the rest of your retort, not expecting an apology, “why are you here, Ro?”

You’re a liar if you said you’d rather wear the 18 on the sweatshirt you had on versus wearing Ro’s. You had a feeling it would just fit right like he seemed to on your couch with you. He’s so quiet when you ask that and it starts to make you nervous. Why ask that? There was no rhyme or reason to anything that was going on between the two of you. It was all based on feelings rather than any sort of logic. He turns to look at you then, wasn’t that the million dollar question? What was he doing here? His brain immediately goes to what he’d heard in practice earlier in the week and he remembers why he had to chase you down and get more time with you.

“I mean,” you start to ramble, “it’s so late. You could have just gone home. I know you were plenty busy tonight so there had to be someone who would have gone with you. Why end up here? Why are we even still doing this?”

“Owen is about to ask you to be his.”

Your heart sinks at his words and the pained look on his face is even worse. He can’t look at you when he says it and he’s back to chewing on his lip.

“He’s what?” You whisper, but you both know exactly what he’d said. Your mind starts to race over it. You had no reason to tell Owen no. He was sweet, thoughtful, and always asked you to hang out.

“You can say yes to him. We’ll have to call off the game but I don’t want to get in the way of you being happy,” Roman shrugs, though you can easily tell it’s hard for him to say as you watch his jaw clench immediately. It was a tell that you’d learned already about him that showed you easily that he was frustrated.

“I don’t know if I want Owen,” you tell him honestly.

Owen’s gut tells him not to wait apparently and he ends up bringing up that he wants to ask you to be his in the locker room one day. The words make Roman’s heart drop even though he doesn’t show it and it puts a panic into him. You two had just started the game. It couldn’t be over already. But he still didn’t know what it meant to win and neither did you, so should he really be interfering with you being happy?

Owen doesn’t want to make you wait but he also wants to make it perfect so he thinks maybe after the road trip next weekend he’ll do it. Roman’s head snaps up from his skates, but luckily doesn’t draw the eyes of anyone. That means he had about a week to figure his shit out. His mind kept going back to the night that he had mentioned Owen as your boy and the little laugh you let out. You didn’t seem serious about it then, were you now? Were you happy with Owen?

Maybe it was the fact that you’d thought the same thing about 13 looking much better on you, or maybe it was the fact that Owen’s sweatshirt just didn’t feel right suddenly you needed to take it off. Based on his demeanor toward you at the party this was the last place you expected him to be and his confession had you reeling. His words, the look on his face, the prospect of what Owen was offering, it was all too much. You went from tired to completely wired.

“Well you can’t have us both, and he’s giving you no reason to not say yes” he says. His nice guy act was coming at the worst time.

“I don't get you, ya know? One minute you’re doing everything you can to win my attention and steal me away from your friend and the second you actually have my attention and the opportunity you’re trying to push me into his arms again. This really is all a game to you isn’t it?”

Roman thought about whether you’d say yes to Owen more times during that week than he wanted to admit. He replays the night at your place even more often and he knows he’s fucked no matter what you choose.It seemed to consume him. How exactly had you managed to have a hold on him like this when he really only had one short lived weekend with you? He can hear how frustrated you’re getting with him and he hates it. He liked the flirty and playful way you two usually were, but he knew there wasn’t much time left for that with Owen making up his mind so fast.

“It is a game, but it’s not. It started as one but now it’s real and it got real so fucking fast. I’m not pushing you back to him. That’s the last thing I want to see happen but I don’t know if I can be what you want either. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a boyfriend or something,” he defends himself. You scoff because of course this was how it was going.

“You just come along and mess with my feelings then run away, huh? Must be nice to get out of this so easily without getting hurt,” you say, suddenly feeling too close to him.

You stand up quickly and head towards the kitchen just to try and get some distance between him and all the thoughts swimming in your head. Roman is damned if you say yes, he barely handles seeing you with Owen as it is, but he’s damned if you say no too because what would that mean for the two of you then without Owen in the way?

He shoots up after you knowing this was just the beginning of the conversation that so desperately needed to happen in that moment.

“Now wait just one fucking minute. You think this is easy for me huh? Always watching you with one of my friends?” he questions, moving closer and closer despite you trying to keep space between you both, “What about you coming along and messing with my feelings? and then going on dates with someone else? I haven’t had anyone else this whole time, but you, how do you think it makes me feel knowing you’re in the room next door kissing my best friend? Or showing up in my apartment unannounced, knowing you’re there for someone else? Or knowing I only get your attention when it’s part of a game? If you think I’m getting out of this easily and I’m not hurting well you’re wrong.”

You feel your confidence waver as he backs you against the counters but still keeps a few steps of space. You’re not sure if you’d rather have him completely in your face or across the room but something in you wants to pull him closer.

“Roman, I-“ you mumble, trying to figure out how to digest it all at once. You really thought it was all a game to him but the tone of his voice tells you he’s serious.

“You what? You get it now? You see what it’s like from my side?” He says, his voice dropping lower than it had been.

“What am I supposed to do now? If I drop him then what? Are you going to seriously go for me or are you done once the game is?” You ask, looking him up and down.

He sighs and moves closer, leaning his hands on the counter on either side of you. “Who do you want?” He whispers.

It makes your head spin and your stomach flip with the way he’s boxing you in but still giving you an out. You most definitely wanted to pull him closer and show with your lips the words that you couldn't get your brain to form. The thought of losing him if you picked Owen hurt you more than you wanted to admit, but the idea of looking like an idiot by following your heart and taking the chance on Roman just for him to decide it wasn’t as fun as the chase was warring in your head.

“I want-“ you hesitate, and it’s a moment too long because he cuts you off before you have a chance to say his name.

“Well,” he says, again pushing himself off the counter like he had last weekend “if you have to think about it, then there’s my answer”.

You feel defeated as you whisper his name but he’d already retreated into himself.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, stepping back. He blinks like he’s awoken from the stupor he was in yet he still looks lost, “I don't know what i’m doing here anyway”

He shakes his head and you don't miss the frustration and wholehearted truth in his voice. Whether he was talking about physically being at your place or his lack of control of the situation, you weren’t really sure.

“I’ll see ya around I guess”, he mumbles before he heads for the door.

Having Roman close felt right, that much you were sure of. You feel safe and excited and it feels the way you think it would with someone you trust, but he’s so quick to pull away sometimes and it stresses you out because you don’t want to be the one reaching but you want the comfort that having him close causes. You knew Owen wasn’t who you wanted. You’d pick Roman if you had to. Ro knows too but he won’t push you one way or another so when he walks away you freeze, but a little cry bubbles out when the door closes. You rush over and open it, looking for him.

“Wait!” You call, thinking he’s farther but he’s smugly leaning against the wall next to your door.

“Yes?” He asks, a little smirk on his face. He knew you’d come after him, or at least, he hoped.

Good Lord this boy was dangerous, but he also held some kind of home in him for you too. You knew you needed to swallow your pride and go after him, to save everyone the pain, but your confession disappears from your lips as soon as you see the smug look on his face.

Nope, you shouldn't do this, you really shouldn't and yet the words tumble from your mouth “Tell Owen I said yes.”

The smirk falls from his face immediately and so does his heart when he hears you say those five words. You had to be bluffing.

“You think I believe that? You wouldn’t even kiss him tonight because I told you not to. You’re not fooling me, honey”, he sneers.

You try not to grimace, remembering the exact reason you had dodged Owen’s lips tonight. By now he had pushed himself from his position on the wall, invading your space once again.

He leans down and in a low voice that sends shivers down your spine he says, “you’re all mine.”

It takes everything in you to not grab a hold of his shirt and shove him back against the wall. Instead you grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him down so that he’s face to face with you.

“Try me” you challenge him, holding his gaze a second too long.

Before he even realizes it, you shove him back, slamming the door in his stunned face. That would be one message he would not be delivering. Roman can’t help but laugh at the way you sent him off. He’s not even mad that you slammed a door in his face because the energy between you two was back and that gives him hope. He’s fired up, but in a good way this time. He felt like himself again, this was his element.

You, on the other hand, were still trying to process what the hell just happened. Everything from how close you had been to just giving in, the tone of his voice, those three words would never leave your mind, you were sure of it. You had to lean on the door and get your bearings back though after the way everything had gone. Your emotions were a mess and your thoughts were even messier.

You see him only a few days later too when you’re over at Owen’s and he comes barging into the apartment. The smirk he throws you when he sees you is enough to get you worked up and he’s well aware of it. At this point he shouldn’t be surprised to see you, parked on his couch and his stomach shouldn’t be doing flips either. But he’s excited all the same. He tries to play things off as friendly when he comes and sits next to you on the couch, thigh right against yours, but he turns his attention to Owen.

“What did you think of that last drill at practice?” He asks, looking across you to Owen and the slight turn of the corner of his lips lets you know he’s ignoring you on purpose.

“Oh you mean the drill where Coach said no contact and you cross checked me into Robbie? It was so much fun,” Owen says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You raise an accusatory eyebrow at Roman who just holds his hands up in defense.

“Cole pushed me into you, and you could’ve, I don't know, been a little stronger in front of the net and stayed on your feet.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Now my back hurts,” Owen pouts.

Roman just shrugs, examining his nails like he’s suddenly bored with the conversation. You, however, see the perfect opportunity in front of you.

“Awh, O. Why don't you take off your sweatshirt? I’ll massage you and then we’ll get you the heating pad,” you offer with a sweet smile.

Owen accepts easily, smiling as he slides off his sweatshirt and laying face down on the floor, “that would be amazing, you’re the best.”

You smirk as you straddle his hips and lock eyes with Roman, “I know”.

Roman just shakes his head at you, you knew exactly what you were doing. You frown as your eyes catch the long horizontal bruise that was already forming across Owen’s back. He wasn’t kidding when he said Roman roughed him up. You’re careful to press around the bruise, forgetting for a second about the man sitting feet away watching you as you felt Owen’s muscles flex beneath your touch. Roman on the other hand was completely focused on you and the way your hands were touching his teammate. When Owen lets out what’s pretty close to a moan along with an ‘oh my god’, you shift your gaze back to Roman with a smirk.

“That feel good, baby?” you ask, staring at Roman.

At this point he was chewing on his cheek so hard he was surprised he couldn’t taste blood. He was so fucked.

“So fucking good,” Owen breathes out, oblivious to the exchange going on above him.

Roman can’t take anymore of this show and he’s way too turned on. You swear you hear him growl when he pushes himself off the couch and storms past you.

Apparently Owen hears it too because he lifts his head to ask, “what’s his problem?”

You just laugh and shake your head, “no clue.”

Your eyes follow him to his room, amused that your spur of the moment idea had worked so well. Later on as you’re in the kitchen, about to start doing dishes with Owen, Roman takes an opportunity to pounce when the younger boy mentions he needs to plug his phone in as it dies from playing music through the bluetooth speaker. You roll your eyes as you see him approach, popping the last bite of your dinner in your mouth before shuffling around the counter to put the plate in the sink.

“You really came to play today, huh?” he smirks leaning on his elbows on the counter across from you.

His question, well not so much the question itself but the way he says it and looks at you has you choking on your food.

His smirk grows as he slinks around the counter to stand close behind you. “Ya know”, he breathes, his lips finding your ear, “that’s one of the few times I’ve made you speechless,” his arm snaking up your front until his hand is just hovering around your throat, “want to see if another way works just as well?”

He’s got you all worked up he knows it, forcing you to drop the news, “you better behave because I’m spending the night and he doesn’t need to find out.”

“I’m not breaking any rules here, am I?” He challenges.

You hate that he’s not, that you can feel him just barely touching you, but can’t actually feel his hand around your throat.

You can’t help but laugh a little, your senses working on overdrive with how close he is, “kinda wish you would but I don’t think O would appreciate that.”

He gives in, wrapping his hand around your neck and leaning as close as he can, “just remember whose you really are.”

You gasp at the feeling of his hand on your throat and just as fast as he’d shown up, he’s gone. Your cheeks are bright red and Owen gives you a concerned look as he comes back into the room.

“Are you okay? You look really warm. Maybe you should go sit down and I’ll finish cleaning up.”

You nod, giving him a tight smile, and head for the couch. Luckily Roman stays in his own room for the rest of the night but you do bump into him as he’s leaving the bathroom and you’re heading in. He’s changed into some shorts for bed and nothing more, giving you plenty to look at. He leans against the doorframe, keeping you from going in and you make no effort to move him.

“It’s rude to stare,” he smirks, “but you’re welcome for the show.”

“Oh get over yourself,” you say, but the playful eye roll you give him makes him smile. You, maybe on purpose, bump into him as you walk past each other in opposite directions. You knew you’d be thinking about how good he looked later despite sharing a different bed in that apartment.

You both lay there that night, thinking about each other without being any wiser of the other’s thoughts.

You, of the feeling of his hand, the warmth of his body even as you just bumped into him and the little “show” he’d put on just for you.

Him, of the sight of his hand around your throat and the way your eyes instantly fluttered closed at his grip, the way you took him in when he stopped you from entering the bathroom, and the playful eye roll that still brought a smile to his lips even was he lay in bed with you in the next room sleeping with his teammate.

It’s the middle of the night when you swear you hear your name. Owen is sound asleep next to you but you hear it again and this time it’s accompanied with a “please don’t go” and it sounds so distressed. The tone of it makes you nervous and you pick your head up, trying desperately to hear it better. You thought you knew who it was but you swear you must be wrong.

You get up and figure out that it is, in fact, coming from Ro’s room next door. You open his door and are so taken aback by the glow of the stars being thrown across his ceiling from the light projector on his dresser. It catches you off guard, making you look all across the room. Something about it makes your heart tug in a way it hadn’t before with him.

You almost forget why you were in there until he whimpers again, the words “don’t leave me” and your name again tumbling from his lips. You make your way towards his bed to try and wake him from his nightmare, making sure to shut the door behind you. You didn’t need Owen stumbling in on whatever would happen next.

“Ro, baby, wake up,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake without startling him.

He finally comes to with a jolt, reaching out and gripping onto your arms for dear life. The wild, terrified look in his eyes shifts to relief when he sees that you’re really there with him unlike in his dream and he starts to relax. He swallows hard and focuses finally, looking up at you.

“You’re here,” he whispers and pulls you onto the bed with him.

You instantly crawl into him, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. The same as it was on the couch other nights, he just fits his body with yours seamlessly. You end up holding him, your fingers brushing his hair off his forehead that was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His chest was still heaving up and down, breathless from whatever it was that had him so distressed.

“Shhhh, it was just a nightmare, Ro. I’m here,” you whisper to him.

He sighs into your chest and mumbles, “not for long.”

You wonder if he can feel the way his words make your chest squeeze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him gently. You feel him shake his head against your chest, still tucked in against you.

“I just want you to stay with me” he says softly, peering up at you and who are you to say no to that?

“Whatever you want, Ro”, you reassure him, and when you think he’s finally asleep from you rubbing his back you add “I’m all yours.”

It’s easy for you to end up falling asleep and you’re completely alarmed when you wake up in his room. He’s not there next to you though and you hate that you automatically frown. Last night was well past the standard of how the game had been going and it had to break every rule you’d both set out. When you go into the kitchen though, there’s already coffee and a bagel waiting on the counter for you along with a very sheepish looking Roman.

“I, uhm, figured you might want this since I kept you up last night,” he says rubbing the back of his neck. He looks slightly embarrassed and you have to admit it looks cute on him.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter under your breath, trying to bite back a grin, or at least you think you do.

He chuckles and a smirk forms on his face, “and it won’t be the last.”

He winks at you when you glance over at him, making you nearly choke on your bagel just as Owen emerges from his bedroom.He eyes the coffee and bagel suspiciously but Roman has a lie ready and waiting.

“I got sick last night and she stayed up with me,” he explains, looking over at you with a soft smile. You can’t look at him or you know you’ll start blushing so you opt for a sip of your coffee.

“Oh okay,” Owen says but you all know he doesn’t believe it.

Your nerves start to kick in that he’s going to call you out but instead he kisses your cheek and asks if you want to hang out longer or go back to your place. The question seems loaded. If you go back to your place and Roman leaves for any reason then you’ll both seem guilty. If you stay then you’re still subject to being around him and with the way he was pushing boundaries with Owen only a room away was getting dangerous.

You pretend to think about it for a second before deciding you probably needed some fresh air, “I’ll probably head out in a few minutes. I have some cleaning I need to do at home.”

The answer seems to tide Owen over more than you expected and when he turns to grab a water from the fridge Ro shoots you a wicked grin. For once you credit Roman’s quick thinking, though since Owen doesn’t even bother asking how Roman’s feeling now, you can tell he doesn’t buy it. It’s the second time he’s ever had that gut feeling and both times it’s been associated with you, but you wouldn’t actually stand here in his kitchen and lie to him, so he brushes it off. You do the, obviously, mature thing and stick your tongue out at Ro and it’s so playful that he breaks out into a real smile, one that makes your heart skip a beat. Owen turns back to you and asks if you want him to walk you home to which you accept.

“Yeah, I'd like that,” you say, hoping on the way he’ll charm you out of thinking about the boy whose smile has fallen behind him.

Roman wants to kick himself when you and Owen leave. He’s stuck watching someone else get you when he’s trying so hard to win you over. His mind keeps flashing back to you waking him up from the nightmare and he can’t shake how good it felt to have you there when he needed you. He swears he can still feel your fingers brushing the hair off his forehead and he hates that he couldn’t just pull you into his arms again that morning.

You always left him in a whirlwind. One second he’d be throwing some flirty line at you for sake of the game and the next thing he knows he’s thinking about waking up in your arms while you walk out on him with someone else, just like in his dream. You had shown no judgement of him and it was like you already knew him so well when you didn’t push him to talk about it. You were so gentle with him, so comforting.He figures he has to give it one last effort. He hated losing and there was a lot more than usual on the line with this one.

Owen holds your hand the whole way back to your apartment and even holds the doors open. You want it to have the same effect as when Roman did it, but it just didn’t. You let out a big sigh in the elevator, making Owen give you a worried look.

“Everything okay? I’m sorry you didn’t get much sleep last night,” he says, an admittedly adorable smile crossing his face.

You return the smile and shrug, “I’m okay, just tired. I think I’ll probably take a nap before I get going on some stuff.”

“Did you need someone to stay and keep you company?” He asks, his smile turning to a smirk and really you had no reason to say no.

Except this nagging voice in the back of your head that sounded exactly like a boy you’d just spent the night with. It sounded so similar to Roman asking ‘do you need me to stay and make sure you’re safe?’ except this time there was no ‘or is this your way or getting me into bed with you on day one’ attached to the end. He really had a hold on you. Maybe Owen had just what you needed to shake that, even though you doubted it.

“You better behave,” you tell him, pulling him inside.

You hate that that line is recycled too and it just doesn’t feel right when it’s directed at the wrong boy. When Owen doesn't return home from the 8 minute walk back from your place right away Roman starts to worry. That would mean he’s still with you, at your place. Had you just wanted to get away from him he wondered? No, you seemed just fine before you left. But he had crossed a line last night, had he gone too far? It was eating away at him. What if Owen chose to skip ahead in his plan and ask you to be his now instead of waiting until after the road trip this weekend instead of after? His heart was racing as he began to think of that possibility.

Against his better judgement, he pulled up your contact and hit call. Your phone ringing has Owen pausing his pursuit of leaving marks all over your neck and you whine, pulling him back to you.

“Just hit ignore” you groan and he agrees, reaching for your phone.

He hovers over you again with a weird look on his face, “Uhm, why is Roman calling you?”

You want to hide even though you don't know why he's calling, but you do know that Owen is close enough to hear whatever he’s about to say to you as you pick up the phone.

“Uhh, Ro?” you answer nervously.

He sucks in a breath when you answer with his nickname. You also sound out of breath and he tries to make his mind dance away from whatever the possibility is for the reason behind that.

“Hi,” he says and you swear you can see the smirk on his face. You have to stop yourself from smiling as Owen watches you closely.

“What does he want?” Owen mouths to you, getting annoyed.

“Did you need something?” you ask him.

Shit. In his haste he hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say, but he bluffs enough to make something up, “yeah, uhm, I just wanted to know if Owen was with you?”

You can tell that there was more to that question but you can't get into it with Owen right there so you hand the phone over.

“Are you serious, dude? I'm kind of in the middle of something. Can you just check the schedule or call Ty or something?” he snaps and he hangs up. You curiously raise your eyebrows at him, you’d rarely seen him snippy like that.

“He literally wanted to know what time we leave for Minny tomorrow. Like, I don’t know. We got the schedule last week, go check it. Why is he calling you of all people to ask about the schedule? He’s been acting so weird lately,” Owen huffs.

But you had a feeling as to why he called. To let you know that time was just about up.

Your stomach sinks when you realize how close things were to you having to make a decision. Sure the game was still going but you still had a rule of not letting Owen get hurt and that was starting to seem harder and harder. You suddenly feel too overwhelmed by having him there and when he leans down to kiss you again you press your hands to his chest.

He freezes and gives you a weird look, “one phone call and you’re not in the mood anymore?”

“Owen...” you sigh, not wanting to argue.

“No, it’s okay. I won’t make you, you know that,” he rolls off you and sits on the edge of the bed. His head hangs a little and you sit up next to him, rubbing his back gently.

“Good luck in Minnesota, by the way. I know you guys can win those games,” you try and reassure him of at least one thing in his life.

He looks over at you with a little smile, “thanks. If we sweep them I promise I’ll take you to a nice dinner. Or I’ll take you either way. How does that sound?”

You know exactly what that dinner would be for and you have a feeling he wouldn’t be getting the answer he wanted to hear.

You nod in agreement though, “that sounds really nice.”

He leans over and presses a kiss to your lips before standing up, “okay I should go. I have to pack for tomorrow and you had stuff to do. I’ll see you later.”

You walk him to the door and say your goodbyes, wishing him luck one more time. You lock your apartment after he leaves and go on a deep cleaning spree to keep your mind as busy as possible.

Owen was obviously frustrated as he left, but not with you. He never was and that, in some sick way, seemed to be your problem. His mood instantly picked up with your good luck wish, realizing how close he is to asking you to actually be his. He had the feeling now more than ever that he needed to be quick to officially lock you down. His head was swimming with thoughts as he made the short walk back to his place. That was weird for Roman to call you, right? Did he actually need to know what time the plane leaves? Then there was what he thinks was a lie from this morning. He was finally starting to put it all together.

He walks in to find Roman flipping through channels on the tv and he eyes him suspiciously. “Did you figure it out?” he asks.

Roman doesn't move his eyes from the screen, “figure what out?”

“The plane, jeez. That conversation was all of 10 minutes ago,” Owen says rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, uh, I did. Thanks,” Roman answers absentmindedly.

“So what time do we have to be there?” Owen asks, taking a drink of his water and leaning against the counter.

Roman struggles to come up with any kind of time to give him and Owen curses under his breath. He hated being right in that moment.

“She’s pretty great huh?” he says trying to be as nonchalant as possible. It works and Roman finally meets the eyes of his friend, “I knew you didn’t give a damn about the plane time. I don’t know what you think you’ve got going with her, Ahcan, but she’s mine.”

Owen’s tone lets Roman know that it’s a threat and it catches him by surprise. Even though hearing those words terrifies him, Roman doesn't back down.

“Right, right because which one of us did she spend last night with? And who did she send back home after one phone call? She may not be mine, but she’s definitely not yours.”

Hearing the confirmation of his suspicions does shake his confidence a bit, but Owen sticks to the one thing he has on Roman, “she’s a good girl and she doesn’t need you fucking her up. So go ahead, play your games and have your fun, but when she’s mine, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

You keep rolling from one project to the next until your whole day has flown by somehow. With pajamas on and a glass of wine next to you, the couch gets your attention before bed. Or it did until a knock on your door startles you. Confused, you check the peephole and see Roman on the other side.

You open the door and shake your head at him, “this can’t be good. It’s awfully late and you leave early tomorrow.”

He has a serious look on his face though that levels you almost immediately. “I needed to see you before we left. I can’t get last night out of my head and I can’t get you out ever anymore. I don’t want to win the game if it means I lose you.”

You’re so shocked when Roman stands there in front of you, his confession still scrambling your thoughts. He carefully steps forward, taking in your blank stare.

“Please say something,” he whispers, his gut twisting over the possibility he could be too late to tell you how he felt.

“I, uh...” you stutter, feeling all thrown off.

He knows he’s not good at any of this and when you’re silent he panics even more than he already was but he’s trying not to show it. What if Owen had somehow gotten to you before he had the chance to come over? What if he was too late and your mind was already made up.

You need to ground yourself so you reach for him and he immediately grabs your hand. A little squeeze and a deep breath help you think straight again. Even in your overwhelmed state, you took note of the fact that you reached for Roman for comfort. It was kind of funny how you both went to each other when things got to be too much.

“The couch,” you say, “we should probably talk.”

He nods, closing the door and following you back to where you had been starting to relax. That was thrown out the window now however. You let go of his hand as you sit down and he frowns at the loss of contact. When you turn towards him though, legs pulled up under you, and get in his space on the couch, he relaxes. It’s easy for him to reach over and rest a hand on your thigh, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t calm you down a bit.

“Owen knows I’m going after you,” he says, giving you yet another shock.

As soon as you feel his hand on your thigh you feel so much better. And then his confession sends you right back over the edge.

“What- what do you mean he knows? You’re going after me?”

Your head was spinning. Like you always seem to do, you pull a smile from Roman.

“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? Of course I’m going after you.”

“But do you really want me, Roman? Or do you just want to win?” You held your breath waiting for your world to come crashing down around you.

“I want you.”

“Ro, you can’t lie to me right now. You realize that right? The rule is you don’t hurt me since you never have listened to that first one about no touching,” you laugh a little.

You’re so worried he’ll break your heart but you know you’ll pick him over Owen. You just need him to be honest and get you to trust him.

“I stopped caring about the game after last night. Sure it’s fun but... I don’t know how to explain it even. Something about you being there when I woke up just changed things,” he admits, feeling a little embarrassed about it.

He’s pretty sure you feel the same so he just lets it out. You soften at his confession, realizing he really had been worked up when you woke him.

“So does this mean we both win or what?” You ask, needing to turn the mood up.

You could deal with Owen later. Knowing you and Roman were on the same page was priority number one at the moment. He laughs at your question, because of course you were worried about the game.

“I’ll lose if it means we don’t keep beating around the bush about what we want here,” he smiles, a blush taking over his cheeks.

You shrug, not actually minding either, “I think we both win. It’s not like we’re actually losing anything here.”

“You have a point there. But what about Owen?”

“Well, I have until you guys get back to really make something happen,” you say, “especially if he already knows. He’s pretty smart so he’ll probably figure it out.”

Roman agrees, something he finds far too easy to do with you. He checks the time and realizes he came over much later than he thought. He sighs and gives you a rueful smile.

“I should probably go. I have to get stuff packed up still before tomorrow,” he stands slowly, reaching a hand out to pull you with him.

You easily follow him, not ready to let him go after the revelation you’d both come to. He stops at the door and turns around, pulling you close as he wrapped his arms around you. You feel your cheeks heat up as you hold on tight to his waist and smile up at him.

“You behave while I’m gone, okay?” he asks, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Mmm,” you pretend to think, tapping your chin, “I guess if you asked nicely.”

He laughs and grabs your chin, “If you please behave I’ll make you an offer you can’t resist when I get back.”

You’re ready to argue back somehow when he leans down, gently kissing your forehead. Your breath catches in your throat and you swear your heart begins to hammer twice as fast as it should. Roman offers the most polite goodbye you’ve ever heard from him before he lets you go, leaving you with a whole weekend to get your life back together from the mess he’d made in it.

It’s only a few hours into their road trip that you get a snap from Roman letting you know they’d landed safely in Minnesota. You don’t wipe the grin off your face for a few hours after as he keeps up a bit of conversation going.

You get the contrary from Owen the next morning as he holds a wrist up in his snap to you, showing off a big bruise with the comment ‘tell your boy to stop being a dick during practice so I don’t get hurt so much’. Your jaw drops a little at the sight of the nasty purple and blue bump that had taken over on his skin. You know you should probably say something to Roman, but you leave it. There were some things they’d just have to sort out themselves.

You’re practically falling asleep Saturday after watching their game when your phone lights up with a FaceTime call. You see Roman’s contact pop up and sit up quickly, answering as fast as you can manage. You hardly expected the call but you didn’t mind one bit.

“Hi,” he says, the smile on his face contagious as you match it.

“And to what do I owe this honor?” you ask, trying to play it cool. You knew him so when did you get so excited to talk to him? You try and take a deep breath to calm down, but it hardly works.

He shifts in his seat, angling the phone towards the wall of the airport they were waiting in, “just wanted to check in with you. Did you watch the game?”

“I did. Someone on the team had a pretty good weekend, too. Maybe he’ll still hang out with me after he gets back,” you tease, knowing he’d played really well during both games.

“Ah yeah, he might have some time. I don’t know. He could be busy,” he pretends to think about it, looking around the room before looking back at his screen, “I’m just kidding. I’ll be there as soon as you want me over.”

You soften up, “good because if you showed up right away I wouldn’t even mind.”

“Someone else definitely wants to talk to you first and I’m okay with that. We all know you’re all mine anyways,” he smirks, giving you a wink.

He has to hang up much sooner than you’d like but you’re left knowing he’s on his way back and there were things for the two of you to catch up on when he returned.

You nervously play with your fingers, pacing around your apartment. Owen had sent you a text asking if he could stop over and talk. You were pretty sure your stomach had wound around itself ten times over in the time it was taking him to get to your place. When he finally does knock you jump, scuttling over and pulling the door open with a bashful smile.He returns the smile and you know it’s not a full one.

He doesn’t attempt to step in and instead starts off heavy, “you like him, huh?”

The words sit heavy on your chest as you try to figure out how to word things. Eventually you settle for a simple answer, “I do. I’m sorry.”

“I kind of figured,” he shrugs, “I can’t say I’m happy with it but I can’t really hold it against you either. Everyone deserves to be happy, right?”

“Owen, I’m really sorry. You deserve the whole world and then some,” you apologize, starting to feel guilty suddenly.

“Look at me,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulders, “does he make you happy?”

You nod, not able to meet his gaze, but he puts a finger under your chin to make you look at him. You give him a more certain nod and he hugs you suddenly. It’s warm and it’s tight, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. It’s more like a truce and you hug him back just as hard.

“Just make sure he treats you right otherwise I have no problem kicking his ass.”

You laugh, swearing he’ll be the first to know if Roman makes any such mistakes. He gives you a kiss on the head before letting you go and heading back the way he’d come from. You watch him all the way until he gets into the elevator, exchanging a little wave as the doors close. Your heart feels so much lighter and you go back to your couch with a whole new set of issues on your mind. Did Roman still want you? Did he know Owen was already there to see you? What if he’d changed his mind in the time it took them to get home and then through the day? You close your eyes and try to pull it all together when a loud knock on the door startles you.

You mumble under your breath about reprimanding everyone you knew for constantly scaring the shit out of you with the way they came over to your place but the anger dissipates when you see who’s waiting. You open the door and smile, about to ask what he’d been waiting for, when he interrupts by stepping in and shutting the door behind him right away.

“Remember when I said I break rules at the right times? When it helps me win?” He asks you.

You’re ready to claim some sort of win from the game, but right before you can, his hands come up on either side of your face as he smashes his lips against yours for the first time. It takes your breath away and you grab onto him like your life depends on it. He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he heads for the kitchen. He sets you on the counter before finally pulling away as the two of you smile at each other like idiots.

When you finally manage to catch your breath all you can manage to say is, “all I remember is you saying you don’t play fair.”

“And I remember you telling me that two could play this game so as far as I’m concerned we’re even here. Time to make some new rules though because this is a whole different game now, and you and I are one game I don’t ever plan on losing.”

#roman ahcan #wisconsin hockey #mine #my writing #hockey writing #hockey fic #college hockey fic #owen lindmark

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