#Do you ever think about how bunny is the only person to make henry laugh

[riverstyxsarts]

“And if beauty is terror,” said Julian, “then what is desire? We think we have many desires, but in fact we have only one. What is it?”

“To live,” said Camilla.

“To live forever,” said Bunny, chin cupped in palm.

[tendergraphite]

When the Hare knows the Devil is out Hunting. [Bunny Analysis]

Bunny's actions prior to his subsequent murder hadn't been erratic—And despite Henrys and Francis' framing, it had not been out of stupidity either. In the same vain of Charles being forced into silence until the later better half of the book, Bunny had been too. Richard should've talked to Bunny, but instead assumed how he'd react; That this 24 year old man was jealous of him, and didn't want him there.

He looses the fish in the water bowl, distracted by the flood of relief when on a silver platter Henry offered acceptance—Richard reacting with a laugh, saying what we were all thinking. ''Yes! Yes of course I want to know.'' We feel that comradery, and a mortifying scene of betrayal becomes a promise of a stable partnership; We remember Francis' country house and want to stay there.

But in truth, that scene was purely manipulation. Not a single moment was true, nor genuine—Henry simply needed Richard to feel apart of something, because if he did not feel that way he'd be completely ruined; So he makes Richard an accomplice, and we never dare to dwell on the maliciousness of the act because we mistake it for escape.

Henry stretches out the bounds of morality, and prepares Richard to be ready to accept anything.

[ If you haven't read it already, here's Bunny's first analysis post ] Richard forgets Henry and Bunny are Best-Friends—It goes to show we’d forget too. He’s told once by the twins that the two were as thick as thieves, and once you couldn’t hope to catch the two apart. But the two are best friends, and it matters.

So, why did Bunny treat his ‘’Friends’’ the way he had? Simple, they weren’t his friends. It was never about the group, it was about Henry. Buns relationship with the group consisted of him keeping the peace for the benefit of Henry, the only person who he considered an actual friend.

With Francis’ it’s established early how they do not interact with each other outside of the group—It’s heavily implied in fact that Francis tried to or did assault Bunny. When it came to Charles and Camilla, he knew about their goings about and obviously hadn’t been comfortable with the idea.

When it came to Richard, no jealousy had been involved; He’d been miserable and treated him so cruelly because there Richard was, happy and clueless and it was just so unfair—Spite had spurred on from that, Bunny was suffering the consequences of Henrys actions alone.

Bunny saw the group's antics as a tad silly, he knew Henry took himself far to seriously and that this was important to him, so he'd entertained the idea of a bacchanal.

We associate youth with innocence more often than not, meaning Henry in Bunny's perspective was an untainted figure. He never saw him in his full light, he didn’t know about his childhood abuse, he for sure hadn’t known of his infatuation for Camilla; And when you do not know, you fill in the gapes yourself; it’s how we end up with Bunny believing Henry to have ended up in a car accident when Henry never stated such a thing in the first place.

We listen to Henry's recounting of Rome, and see Bun threw his eyes alone. Henry doesn't outright lie, he never generally does—Instead he prefers to reframe a situation; He outlines how ungrateful Bunny was and is, how he's an attention seeker and only ever wants more, more, more. Henry neglects to highlight how he knows why Bunny acts in that manner, (I mean, if Charles knew why Henry certainly does.) and how this was never Bunny's fault, it was his own for bringing the journal knowing full well Bunny wouldn't be able to help but snoop.

So really, what happened? When had Bun realized Henry would conspire to kill him? Well, one must wonder what Henry really did say about Bunny in that journal that hadn’t been too kind, what had driven Bunny so monstrously mad—Mean if you read your best-friends journal for giggles only to find out they hated you how'd you feel? So I’d say it was the combination of that, and Henry slapping him.

That’s when Bunny’s mind split into two beliefs—Henry is going to kill me and; Henry cannot kill me, he’s my best-friend, he loves me. Let’s start from the beginning: When he’d screamed bloody murder after the group arrived at 6 am covered in blood, his first thought would’ve been ‘’Who else other than a person has that much blood?!’’ Because of that, when he then read the newspaper, he'd begged for ignorance.

What really spurred on his incessant jabbing at the group about the newspaper wasn’t because it came out of some urgency for cruelty, but because he was desperately trying to prove himself wrong. It's in truth why he became so distressed, and why his false nicety for the rest of the group washed away—His mind couldn't compute Henry being a cold blooded killer, and him being that quiet lonely boy who always read alone at his desk.

What would you do if your closets friend had committed a murder? What if, someone you thought you knew and were so sure of turned out to be entirely empty; How is one supposed to react in such a situation?

Well Bunny hadn't known what to do—All he could think to do was bottle up his feelings, and let them fester until the rot burst and splattered. In retrospect, it explains his meltdown at Francis' country house—Bun feared Henry now, but this man was still his best friend, he felt safe around him and comforted; For gods sake he slept in Henry's bed afterwards, his mind couldn't settle.

Bunny's tears never were because he'd bee excluded, or due to being left out; He was in denial. It's further shown threw his daydreams about the trip to France, a way to re-envision the Rome trip—It was better than thinking about how his best-friend was planning on beating him to death (Or so he believed.) He told Julian and Richard specifically because he knew they had Henry's better interest at heart. It couldn't have gone on—The misery was eating him on the inside out, and his mind had finally buckled.

[kitsunekissesxo]

Demon Bros Pet Names HCs and Scenarios

Demon Brothers Pet Names Headcanons and Kiss Scenarios

Summary: Headcanons of the brother’s petnames for you, vice versa, gender neutral MC, fluff kisses  <3

Warnings: Implied nsfw, suggestive, somewhat explicit

Lucifer:

Oh, Lucifer. This man may seem cold but on the inside, and when the two of you are alone, he’s the biggest softie. Like, big softie.

His pet names are more...traditional, if you will. He absolutely despises pet names such as baby, babe, honey, etc., so don’t expect him to use them. If you use them on him, expect a wrinkled nose and a grimace.

His personal favorites are my beloved, my rose, my darling, my love, my dear. He’s very possessive of you and intends to make sure his pet names for you further prove that.

He allows you to call him Luci and LuLu when you’re alone, and, even though he vehemently denies it, he finds it incredibly endearing. Other than that, he isn’t very fond of pet names for himself.

However, he simply adores when you call him your love. He might be possessive of you, but it fills him with so much pride knowing that you want others to know he’s yours as well. 

During sex, you 100% call him Daddy and Sir if you’re into that. If not, his love-making is so intense that you can only manage to utter out his name- and he loves that. It really strokes his ego wink wink

Lucifer absolutely adores calling you princess/my prince during sex, no matter what the mood is. He finds the way it makes your face flush irresistible. 

“Luuuuciiiiii,” you whined out impatiently, attempting to get your boyfriend’s attention. He’d had his nose stuck in paperwork for hours now and you were in some serious need of attention. “You haven’t so much as looked up at me in the past, like, 10 hours,” you pouted.

Finally he raised his head to lock eyes with you. Dark circles marred his beautifully pale skin, showing the effect of the overwhelming workload he was forcing himself to push through. You felt your heart ache at the sight of him, all signs of impatience leaving you to be replaced with a look of worry.

He gave you a weak smile while resting his head in his hand. All you wanted was to wrap him up in your arms and play with his hair as he napped against your chest. So that’s exactly what you went to do- love him.

You stepped towards him, his tired eyes looking up at you quizically.

“My love, please take a break. You’re exhausted. Please,” you softly pleaded, reaching your hand out to hold his cheek, thumb swiping back and forth soothingly.

He closed his eyes and pressed himself into your hand, letting out a content sigh, bringing his own hand up to hold yours to his face. Your heart swelled with love- early on the in the relationship, he’d flinch when you’d try to touch him. Now he treasured every carress you had to offer.

“Come here darling,” he murmured, motioning for you to climb into his lap. You did as he asked, straddling his lap and lacing your hands together at the nape of his neck.

The way he looked at you with such adoration made your heart race. You leaned down to capture his lips in a sweet, loving kiss. His hands came up to press you closer to him, one hand threading into your hair and the other pressing on your lower back. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck.

He pulled away slightly to whisper against your lips,

“You always know how to stir up these feelings in me, my dear.”

Mammon:

This man adores the cheesy petnames. Like the tsundere he is though, he denies it with a blush so intense it reaches his ears.

He doesn’t even use petnames for you when your relationship first begins. The tsundere is strong with this one.

At first, it seems like all he ever wants to call you is “his human”. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed

Until one fateful day, he called you. You picked up the phone eagerly and to your surprise he uttered out a, “Hey babe, are ya busy right now? Ya better not be- come to my room asap.”

Needless to say, you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat

Mammon’s pet names of choice include, but aren’t limited to, sugar, baby doll, dollface, doll, baby, babe, honey bun/honey bunny

He loves anything that will make you smile, though. It’s his favorite thing in the whole world.

During intimate times he mainly sticks to calling you baby and baby doll, expect him to desperately moan that into the crook of your neck as he begs you to continue

He blushes, stammers, tells you to stop, but then tells you to not stop when you call him pet names. He not-so-secretly loves it, and you know it.

You like to call him mammonie, monmon, baby/babe, handsome, and my prince. Just to mess with him and to see that cute flush of red on his gorgeous tan skin. It’s also undeniably cute and cheesy

During sex, he absolutely adores being called baby boy. It really gets him going. This boy is a sub

You were scribbling school notes in your notepad, studying for the upcoming exam when your D.D.D rang. You sighed, setting your pencil down and reaching for your D.D.D to see who was interrupting your study session.

It was Mammon.

Of course it was. You adored him, you really did, but his timing was pretty awful. You answered and put the phone up to your ear with your shoulder so you could continue copying down some notes that Satan so generously lent you.

“Yo, yo, yo! Babe, are ya busy? Ya better not be- come to my room asap!” He exclaimed happily.

The phone fell from your shoulder and onto your notepad. You had felt your heart skip a beat. He called you babe.

“U-uh...MC? MC??? That was an accident. I aint mean it. Just...come to my room. Hello? Human, are ya even there??” He stammered on nervously.

You scrambled to pick the phone up, responding in a teasing tone, “Mammon. Three things. 1: I heard that. 2: I’m studying. 3: I heard you call me that.”

You could hear him huff on the other end. He was seriously too cute, too easily flustered.

“Just drop it, wouldja? I aint mean it! Now get your ass over here- I dont care if you’re studying. No one makes The Great Mammon wait!!”

You could practically see him puff his chest out. You just wanted to engulf him in a hug and ruffle his snowy locks so badly. 

With a grin, you taunted, “Okay, babe. I’ll be right over.”

You hung up just as he began to sputter and protest, checked yourself in the mirror, sprayed some perfume/cologne on, and began to make your way to Mammon’s room.

As you reached Mammon’s room, you thanked all your lucky stars that you didn’t run into any of the brothers. Without warning, you swung Mammon’s door open, and he jumped with a shriek.

“Jeez, ya scared the livin’ evil outta me, human!” he exclaimed, clutching his t-shirt near his heart. His cheeks were already tinted a lovely blushed hue against his beautifully tanned skin.

“Awww, sorry Monmon. Didn't mean to startle you,” you poked, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest, beginning to protest that you didn't, in fact, frighten him.

You quickly leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He froze, and you could practically hear his heart race. You pulled away, both hands coming up to the nape of his neck as he just stared at you, mouth slightly open, his face bright red. 

“You worry too much, baby.” You teased him, a smile playing on your lips.

And then he leaned in to return your kiss, hands settling on your lower back gingerly

Needless to say, he began to “accidentally” continue to call you endless pet names. He really did love them and you

Leviathan:

Please, for the love of all things unholy, please let this shy boy call you silly pet names. He adores them, simply because it makes you giggle, and he loves knowing that he’s the one making you laugh

Levi appears as though he doesn’t feel shame, but we know he just hides it really well. However, he still rambles to anyone and everyone about Ruri-chan and anime, so he won’t mind you using pet names for eachother around other people

Because of his anxiety though, he probably won’t be too keen on that idea at first. Will his brothers laugh at him? Surely they’ll think he’s gross and creepy regarding his choice of pet names, right? Wrong. Ensure to him that he doesn’t have to do anything that he isn’t comfortable with, and if anyone judges them then they’re just normies. He’ll love you forever.

Levi’s most used pet names for you are sunshine, cutie, snookums, goofball, and player 2

Sunshine is his personal favorite because humans seem to associate happiness with the sun, and you’re his main source of happiness. So why wouldn’t he call you that?

He also refers to you as his player 2 a lot. You’re not only his lover, but his best friend. His partner in crime. His Henry. 

Calling him pet names is undoubtedly one of your favorite things. He stutters, blushes such a deep shade of red, and tries to hide his face behind his hands. Please take ahold of wrists, move them from his face, take hold of his face, and place a kiss on his nose. You want Levi.exe to stop working? K.O’d? Do that.

Your favorite pet names for him are Leviachan, cutie, sweetie, handsome devil, baby boy, my sweet prince, etc. Anything that helps boost his confidence is a good pet name in your book.

During sex, Levi would hardly be able to form a coherent sentence, so I imagine your name would fall from his bitten lips like a mantra

If you’re into it, he would be down to call you master/mistress, 100%

Most of the time you call him baby boy and sweet boy and needy during sex. I HC that he’s very submissive and melts at your endearing yet dominating pet names for him.

We also know it’s canon that Levi has a degradation kink- so use it. Call him a whore, pervert, slut, needy bitch. He’ll let out the sweetest whines and whimpers.

“Levi, sweetie, I promise it’s okay. Nothing happened between Mammon and I. We just went shopping,” You gently explained to a very frazzled Levi.

He was sitting in his gaming chair, anime paused, arms crossed, avoiding your gaze, and pouting. A frown also adorned his troubled features.

He refused to answer you.

“Levi, please speak to me,” you tried again, reaching out to take ahold of his hand.

You offered your hand to him gingerly. He studied it for a moment, and then, with a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he complied and laced his fingers with yours. He heaved a sigh as you swiped your thumb against his hand soothingly.

“I know, MC. I trust you. It just makes my blood boil knowing you’re out with him instead of being with me....I don’t really blame you though, I guess. I’m a gross and yucky otaku. I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either,” he grumbled, his voice cracking near the end, along with your heart. You wished so badly he wouldn’t talk so down on himself all the time.

It was time to show Levi just how much he meant to you.

You surged forward to engulf your serpent-like boyfriend in a bone-crushing hug. He let out a squeak, his arms coming up in surprise.

“Leviachan, I wish you saw how much I love you. I love spending time with you. I love playing games with you. I love watching anime with you. I love listening to you rant and ramble about them. I love how passionate you are. You’re so cute when you get like that, yknow?” You murmured to him with as much love as you could muster.

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around you, hugging you tightly to him. He planted a kiss on the top of your head before nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“You normie,” he whispered, “you’re really too much. I think you’re the only person who can find my ranting endearing.”

You pulled away with a pretend frown on your face, lacing your fingers with his once more.

“Normie? Again? Really Leviachan? In what way am I a normie?” You prodded, grinning at him.

He blushed, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I suppose you’re not really that much of a normie. You do nerd out with me, to be fair...” He grinned back at you- a genuine grin, at that. It warmed your heart.

Before you could say anything else, Levi surged forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. It was gone as soon as it was there. You blinked, wide eyed at him. His face was ablaze- you didn’t think you had ever seen him so flushed. You didn’t even know he had the confidence in him to do that.

In a rare moment of softness, he whispered

“I love you, sunshine. I really do. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my player 2.” 

Satan:

Satan is the absolute best in the business at hiding his true intentions; after all, all smiles are an act

Except... you actually stir up feelings of love within him, and it drives his curiosity through the roof

He appears to be very confident so his brothers opinions don’t really matter to him. He’s also awfully petty, so I imagine he moreso uses pet names for you around them to simply dangle in their faces that only he can do that

That doesn’t change the fact that every time you use a pet name for him, hes face flushes an adorable red before he sorts himself out

His favorite pet names for you are sweetheart, kitten, darling, little kitty, gorgeous, wildflower, and my sweet girl/sweet boy

We all know this man is into pet play, so his most used nicknames for you are kitten and little kitty. During and not during intimate times. 

During sex, Satan calls you all sorts of endearing terms- he’s a master of dirty talking. It’s filthy yet simultaneously charming. Kitten, darling, and your name roll off of his tongue the most. If you’re into it, he will definitely degrade you, calling you a needy whore, filthy slut, cumslut, cumrag, fuck toy, you name it and he’ll use it. He’d most likely be opposed to calling you a bitch- it feels too hurtful for him.

You love to call him handsome, my bookworm, stud(teasingly), good looking, and babe/baby. Each and every one earns a chuckle and a momentary blush from him, so it’s definitely worth it. 

Want his attention when he’s too busy reading? Call out his name a few times- he can hear you, but he chooses to ignore you. Bring out the pet names and he’ll be burying his blushing face into his book, completely flustered. He takes a moment to compose himself before tutting at you. You interrupted his very important reading- how naughty.

When Satan’s feeling dominant, he’s dominant. He demands that you call him Sir or Master during sex. He doesn’t mind being called Daddy, but it doesn’t get him going quite like the other two do. When he’s feeling more submissive, absolutely call him your handsome boy. Pet gets him riled up as well- use it from time to time.

You couldn’t believe just how beautiful the sight in front of you was. The stars in the Devildom seemed to burn brighter and more fiercely than the ones in the human world. You were almost entranced by them, not wanting to tear your eyes away from the gorgeous nighttime sky.

That is, until you felt the hand that was holding yours give a gentle squeeze. You quickly turned your head to make eye contact with his emerald gaze. The main emotion you could see in Satan’s eyes was adoration, and suddenly your heart was being squeezed as well as your hand.

Here you were, taking a late night stroll in the Devildom with Satan, the night sky painted with deep clouds and bright stars, and he was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He had taken you to what appeared to be a park. You walked along the path hand in hand as you took in every little detail. The deep greenish blue bushes were hiding little critters, the pond had a fountain that splashed around the deep blue water, there were bugs that looked and acted an awful lot like lightning bugs(Satan explained that they were practically the same except that these were called Hell Fire Bugs, were only found in the Devildom, and had little horns that adorned their head), there were giant flowers of golden and orange hues everywhere, and, to your delight, there was a little wooden bench sat right in the perfect spot.

“Satan, can we sit down?” You asked with a smile, motioning to the bench. “I love where it’s positioned; you can take in everything perfectly!” You peered up at him to see that a gentle smile was gracing his features. 

“Of course we can sit down, darling. Are your legs feeling tired of walking as well?” He pondered. After all, he wasn’t completely sure what a human’s threshold for walking distance was.

“Mm, a little bit,” you admitted, absentmindedly rubbing your arm. You’d gotten so caught up in his presence and the sights around you that you’d only just now noticed the beginning of a burning sensation in your legs.

“That’s a shame. I guess I’ll have to carry you to the bench then, huh, kitten?” He said, flashing you a sly smile.

Protests left your mouth but to no avail. You were already thrown over his shoulder, his long fingers resting on your bum, giving a gentle pat. He was comfortably warm, and you were lying if you said you couldn’t stay in his strong arms forever.

You were giggling, squirming, demanding that he put you down that instant- but you both knew how much you loved it. His grip tightened on you as a warning.

“Kitty, if you keep squirming, I’ll have to punish you. It’s not nice to deny my kind gestures.” He teasingly warned, giving a harsher smack to your bum. And at that, you huffed, but calmed down.

He gently set you down on the bench, caressing your face before sitting down next to you, reaching out to grab ahold of your hand once again. You gladly took his hand in yours, sighing contentedly as he swiped his thumb soothingly against yours.

You leaned in closer to him, pressing against his side, and placed a gentle peck on his cheek. His skin was so soft, so warm. Welcoming. You couldn’t have felt more safe, more comfortable, more at home than you did in this moment. He let out a light chuckle.

“Are you happy now?” He murmured, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side. You curled your arms around his arm closest to you, resting your head on his broad shoulder. You breathed in deeply, taking in his calming scent. He smelled like old books and tea. “I couldn’t be happier.” You whispered out. Your heart was so full, you could hardly take it.

“Good, I’m glad,” He warmly responded, and began to absentmindedly play with your hair as you both enjoyed the scenery in a comfortable silence. 

“Hey, Satan?” You gingerly asked after a few minutes. He gave a hum in response.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You admitted, feeling your face heat up.

He craned his neck to peer down at you, you pulling away gently to look at him.

“You truly are something else. You want to stay with me, a demon, forever? Are you sure about that?” He inquired, secretly hoping you wouldn’t backtrack. And you didn’t.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life. I love you.” You whispered back.

His only response were gentle hands coming up to cup your face, his lips softly melting against yours.

Asmodeus:

Naturally, as the Avatar of Lust, pet names are his forte. He calls you pet names about as often as he tries to cop a feel- so, very often

He loves using them in front of anyone and everyone, shame just isn’t a word in his vocabulary. He finds cute nicknames incredibly endearing and genuinely wonders why everyone doesn’t feel the same way about them.

He high-key expects you to use pet names for him as well. Let EVERYONE know he’s your beautiful boy, dammit. Its obvious but it makes him feel happy, so you’re more than willing to comply. 

His personal favorite pet names for you include, but aren’t limited to, cherub, dear, little darling, angel face, doll face, honey/hun, bunbun, love bug, lover, and mi amor. 

He simply loves to do anything and everything you want him to do to please you, but he expects the same energy in return. 

So, during intimate times, if you want him to degrade you he will. It just isn’t his favorite thing to do- he’d rather worship you and make you feel on top of the world with honey dripping words. Therefore, during sex, he prefers to call you darling, baby, baby girl/baby boy, princess/my prince, beautiful, etc. If you want him to call you mommy/daddy, master/mistress, or sir/madam, he absolutely will. Anything to please you.

Your pet names of choice for him include asmobaby, asmo, lover boy, cutie, beau, charmer, eye candy, heart breaker, heart throb, etc.

“How’s my favorite heart breaker doing?” “Feeling a little frisky, are we, lover boy?” “You see that absolute eye candy over there? That’s my boyfriend”

During sex, you call Asmo anything and everything you want. He’s down to try and do anything, so he’s all yours. He’ll do the same for you. However, he does love being praised- so please use praising pet names for him like gorgeous, handsome, sexy, etc

The most passionate and intense lover you will ever have, and his endless pet names are only the tip *wink wink* of the iceberg. 

For once in the Devildom, you were freezing. Your nose was numb, red, just an icicle, really. 

Asmo had dressed you up with a pompom hat, fluffy earmuffs, and a giant puffy coat with gloves to match in attempts to keep you warm in the Devildom’s famous ice rink. Of course, his entire outfit matched yours with a lovely complimentary color. He figured it was enough for him, so surely his little cherub was warm and snug, right? Wrong. Somewhat wrong, anyway. You were still cold and made a point to complain about it to Asmo. 

“Dear, I promise I will warm you up as soon as we leave, just please do this for me?” He begged, holding your gloved hands in his own. His pinkish-yellow hued eyes stared into your own hopefully, and you knew you could never turn down those puppy eyes of his.

He cheered excitedly when you agreed and took you by the hand over to the rink. He turned around to face you, an expectant expression on his face. He took your hand and placed his lips on the backside, winking up at you, before murmuring, “Watch and learn mi amor!”

With wide eyes you watched as Asmo skated off, moving with incredible balance and grace. Every move was intentional; he looked stunning in this state. Here he was, skating a lutz, an axel, a salchow, everything. He was professional level talented, and he never told you! And, oh, yes, you. You could skate, but not well. 

“Asmobaby, I didn’t know you were so talented at this!” You exclaimed as he approached you, an accomplished smile adorning his features. You skated over to him, his hand reaching out to grab yours as you skated together side by side.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love how graceful it looks,” he responded, as you noticed how the tip of his nose was beginning to turn red. His breathing was still a little irregular, his breath coming out in puffs, the cold making the cloud of breath visible. He was so beautiful.

“Darling, if you keep staring at me like that, I won’t be able to control myself,” he teased, squeezing your hand.

You quickly averted your eyes, your face flushing at being caught.

“Oh, don't be embarrassed, MC! There’s nothing wrong with admiring beauty! I do it with you all the time, you know.” He winked, and you had to slap away a wandering hand, leaving a very pouty Asmo.

You attempted to get closer to give him a kiss to make up for it, but you lost your balance, falling right onto your bum. Asmo gasped, made sure you were okay, and then giggled at you.

“Asmo!! I just fell!! On ice!! And you’re laughing!” you feigned offense, resting your hand over your chest. “And I was going to give you a kiss, too!”

Asmo leaned down to help you up, murmuring, “You can’t help but fall for my charming self, hm, love bug?”, and pressed a loving kiss to your chilly lips. His nose bumped against yours, somehow still warm to the touch. You were so enraptured by his lips that you hadn’t even realized he’d gotten you back on your feet.

“How about we...continue this later?” Asmo whispered as you pulled away.

“Oh, you better. You promised to warm me up, lover boy” You huffed, beginning to skate off with him again. “Don’t have to ask me twice, doll. I’ll show you my love allllll night. Now, watch this next trick- it’s absolutely stunning!”

Beelzebub:

This wholesome boy honestly doesn’t understand pet names at first

“Why would I call you a baby, MC, you’re clearly a grown human??”

Even after you explain it to him, he still doesn’t really get it, but it makes you happy, and he’ll do anything to make you happy

When you tell him that he doesn’t have to call you baby/babygirl/babyboy, that he can use almost anything, he lights up.

“My cheesebur-” “No, Beel, anything but that”

Once he somewhat gets the gist of petnames, his preferred ones for you are love muffin, pumpkin, cookie, honey, sweetheart, gum drop, and cupcake

Occasionally calls you his cheeseburger just to enjoy your reaction

Please, please, please, don’t be mean about it. this baby's feelings are hurt so easily and he always means well 

You favorite pet names for him are Beel, beelzeburger,  big guy/big boy, bunny,/honey bun, bonbon, sweet boy, honeybee, Cookie Monster, and handsome

Each time you call him something other than his name, he blushes profusely, his lips upturned in a happy smile

Adores everything you call him, even if its incredibly cheesy because he loves cheese you chose those pet names for him specifically, and he feels honored

During sex, he’s so focused on how good it feels and trying to not hurt you that anything that comes to mind rolls off of his tongue when he speaks, which isn’t often

mainly calls you by your name, but he loves to use babygirl/babyboy if you like it

he also prefers for you to call out his name, as other names don’t really do much for him. if you’re into it, though, I'm sure he won't mind if you call him daddy. will be incredibly confused the first time you gasp it out though

“Huh? Is your father here? Or did you call me that? You’re not my child, though...?”

The music was loud- blaring, actually, and your head was beginning to ache.

Lord Diavolo was holding a party at his castle, with almost every one of his friends invited- it was a huge party. Everyone was sat down at tables or were out on the dance floor. Lucifer was chatting it up with Barbatos, Simeon, Luke(who was just following Simeon around), and Lord Diavolo, Satan was sipping some demonus while flipping through the pages of a book, absentmindedly chatting with Solomon, Mammon and Asmo were participating in some dance competition, Levi was playing his switch with his headphones on, and Belphie was napping on Beel’s shoulder. 

You were sitting at the table with Satan and Solomon, feeling particularly uninterested in their talk of spells and magic. The music was nice, and Mammon and Asmo looked like they were having fun, but you didn’t have the energy to tear it up on the dance floor. You heaved a sigh, feeling insufferably bored.

And that’s when your eyes landed on Beel. Belphie had his cow print pillow resting in the crook of Beel’s neck, snuggling himself into Beel. He was zonked. And poor Beel was munching on whatever food he had left on his plate, looking just as bored as you- at this rate, he wouldn’t have any food left, and soon. 

Making your mind up, you got up from the table and made your way over to Beel. As you got closer, Beel lifted his head at your approaching footsteps and smiled when he saw that it was you- you swore it made your heart beat faster.

“Gum drop! I was wondering when you would come over.” He smiled, motioning for you to take the seat next to him. Belphie continued to snooze on. 

“Actually, Beel, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the kitchen with me? Your supply on food is low, cookie monster ..” You murmured in his ear. He nodded, and went to wake up Belphie. Talking to him didn’t work, shaking didn’t work, nothing did. Beel carefully moved Belphie’s pillow on the table, his head now resting on Beel’s shoulder, and then gently moved Belphie’s head to rest on his pillow. He continued his little cat nap, completely unbothered. 

Beel stood up, took your hand in his, and led you to kitchen.

You lifted yourself up on the counter to sit, watching as Beel opened every cabinet and drawer, rummaging for something else to devour. He finally made his way to the fridge and freezer, and let out a delighted laugh when he discovered a pint of hellish nightshade ice cream.

“Wanna share?” He asked, smiling and showing you the ice cream container.

“Uh, Beel, can humans even eat nightshade? Won’t it kill me?” You inquired, fairly sure that nightshade would kill you dead.

“Oh, no, it won’t. Barbatos said there’s different kinds of nightshade that won’t hurt humans and Lord Diavolo made sure that everything here is human-proof!” He happily exclaimed, already grabbing two spoons. 

If it did kill you, well, that was Lucifer’s problem because you were gonna enjoy some ice cream with your boyfriend.

Beel began to happily eat the sweet treat, you taking bites whenever you could get your spoon in. He noticed you were having some troubles and shyly apologized, retreating his spoon so you could get a good bite.

And oh, you did. It was a heaping spoonful, resulting in ice cream getting on the corners of your mouth. You didn’t know why Beel was suddenly staring ravenously at you instead of the ice cream.

“You have ice cream on your mouth,” he murmured, leaning in closer to you, his face inches away from yours. Your breath sped up.

“Wanna help me clean it off?” Was all you needed to ask before his mouth was on yours, delicately licking off the ice cream. His hands rested gently on your waist, your own hands resting on his broad shoulders. He pulled back gently, a buzzing sound emanating from him.

“I always love your taste,” he exclaimed happily, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You leaned back in for another syrupy sweet kiss, Beel all too happy to oblige.

Belphegor:

ah, our favorite eboy

he thinks pet names are cute and he really enjoys them, but he’ll never outwardly say that. he might mention it to you when you’re half asleep, though

gets all blushy blushy uwu when you use them around other people, but he doesn't mind. don't expect him to use them on you around other people, though- that's mostly for when you're alone

when he's really happy to see you or really sleepy he’ll use pet names for you regardless of who is around

he finds it to be very intimate so he likes keeping it to yourselves

his favorite pet names for you are dork, cuddle bug, star, teddy bear, and pillow pet

he loves stars and stargazing, and especially loves stargazing with you so he figured why not combine two things he loves and call you his star

he also loves to snuggle you, so you're practically his personal teddy bear- and he wouldnt have it any other way 

you're favorite pet names for him are cowboy, Little Dipper, cuddle monster, snuggle bug, belpharoo, belphie/belpie, and sleepy prince

during sex, belphie likes to call you his cowgirl when he's feeling more dom. he seems like a bratty power bottom/sub, so he’ll call you master/mistress, mommy/daddy if you like that, but he’ll give you shit for it. other than that, your name falls from his lips in breathy moans and whines

you tend to call him baby boy, sweet prince, brat, good/bad boy, naughty boy during sex. he loves being called a bad/naughty boy, PLEASE do it, it really gets him going 

You woke with a start, eyes blinking a few times as you looked around you. You had fallen asleep in the Planetarium. stargazing with Belphie. Oh yeah, Belphie. You turned your head to see he was still fast asleep, holding onto your arm with a death grip. You knew waking him would be fun.

“Belphie? Bellphiiieeeee...” You whispered in his ear, which earned you a little bit of stirring from him. 

“Belpharooooo, it’s wakey time,” You said a bit more loudly, beginning to rub his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open sleepily, his amethyst gaze meeting yours warmly. He stretched his arms out with an adorably soft yawn, his shirt riding up to expose his soft yet toned abdomen. He gave you a sleepy smile.

“I love waking up to the sight and sound of you, teddy bear” he murmured out, clinging onto you once again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Your own arm was wrapped around him, the other coming up to lazily play with his hair. He let out an almost purring sound, attempting to get as close to you as possible.

“Uh uh, Belphie, we can’t go back to sleep yet. We’re still in the Planetarium- let’s go to bed, okay my sleepy prince?” You cooed, patting his back to get him to sit up.

With a huff, he sat up, but demanded you pull him up by his arms, giving you the sweetest smile in return. He complained the entire way to his and Beel’s room, his hand gripping yours loosely as you lead him forward.

Beel wasn’t there when you arrived which disappointed you both a bit, but you figured he’d be back soon and with some snacks, too, so that was a plus.

Immediately Belphie flopped onto his bed, hardly giving you enough time to crawl into bed beside him before he cocooned himself with blankets. He turned to face you, eyes glazed over, and yawned once more. You yawned in return, the both of you giggling. His amethyst eyes never left you, even when his hair fell into his face. You gently brushed the strands of navy blue hair out of his eyes, giving him a soft smile as his own hand came up to keep your hand pressed against his face. He nuzzled into your hand, sighing happily, before you wrapped your arms around him loosely. 

“Goodnight, teddy bear” he murmured as you both drifted off to sleep once more.

A few hours had passed when you woke again , only to find that Belphie had not only pushed you to the edge of the bed, but had also stolen all of the covers and blankets. You were chilly without either of those. 

You shook him, earning a groan from the sleepy demon. 

“Belphie I love you but I swear I will execute you if you don’t give some blankets back” you lightheartedly threatened, opting to lay your body across his.

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, nuzzling further into his pillows.

“Oh no, you don’t. I literally have no covers! You have all of them! I’m freezing!” you exclaimed desperately. 

He poked his head out of his cocoon, a mischievous glint in those amethyst eyes, his hair sticking up in random spots.

“If you want a blanket so bad, then come get one from me.” He dared you, a smile playing on his sleepy features.

You immediately began your assault by tickling his sides, which resulted in him laughing, gasping, and trying to swat you away. You began giggling with him, not stopping your violent attack on the poor helpless demon. Your torture went on for a few minutes before he finally gave in. 

“Okay, okay! I give in! You can have all the blankies you want, I swear!” he puffed out heavily, tears forming in his eyes from being tickled and laughing so much.

You smiled triumphantly as he let you into his little blanket cocoon, immediately becoming engulfed by warmth and his scent. You were waiting for both of your breaths to even out as you heard a low voice say,

“Hey, I know you guys love each other and all but it’s 4am and I’m kinda trying to sleep”

You looked at Belphie, holding back a giggle as he gave an apology to poor Beel. 

You snuggled up to Belphie once again, beginning to feel sleep take over your body for the 3rd time that day. You fell asleep before Belphie, so you never felt the soft kiss he planted on your forehead and the sweetest “I love you so much” he whispered in your ear.

I hope you enjoyed this! I loved finally writing for all of the brothers- It was so much fun figuring out how to incorporate their personality into my own writing style. Let me know if you’d like me to do a version of this with the undateables! As always, all feedback is appreciated. <3

[chocolatte-and-despair]

Yandere FNAF headcanons: Part 2

Orville Elephant

Orville is a harmless yandere. Whenever you are feeling down, you can always depend on Orville to find a way to make you laugh. And Orville absolutely adores whenever you laugh. Even if he gets confused about many things, he always makes sure to remember everything you tell him perfectly, seeing as he doesn't want to forget anything about you. If you would reject Orville, he would be very saddened by it, but he also would be understanding. Though, he would say he isn't going to give up that easily, and that he is going to get to your heart one way or another! Hopefully, not another.

Fritz Smith

Fritz is a wrong idea yandere. From the moment that he met you, and you showed him kindness, he really believed that you liked him too. The guy was always shy and barely got any attention from people, that's why when you showed him some, he almost immediately jumped the gun, trying to keep you from any other person, taking the role of a possessive boyfriend. When you would try to clear the misunderstanding up, he would accuse you of seeing someone behind his back and that he was going to find them and take you back to himself. The next thing you find out was that your closest friend was found dead and Fritz was nowhere to be found.

Toy Bonnie

Toy Bonnie is an obsessive yandere. From the moment that you two met, he always wanted to know everything about you. There wasn't a day that he didn't ask about you and whenever you were around, he would ask a million questions, trying to figure out what you were doing while he wasn't there. You have told him to lay off a few times, but that only caused him to get worse, thinking you were seeing someone. When you rejected Toy Bonnie, he became completely deranged. He started to scream and say how ungrateful you were and that if not him, you would be all alone because no one else would like you. To say that he hurt you would be an understatement.

Phantom Bunny

Phantom Bunny is a stalker yandere. You don't know him, but he knows you. He knows you very well. He has been alone all this time but watching you had made his life a little bit easier. He loved imagining being part of your life. It took almost no time for him to start developing feelings for you, starting to complicate things for both you and him, as he started to sometimes show himself to you. The moment that you would realize that you aren't just seeing things, he would try to approach you and talk to you, but instead, you would get scared away, destroying all of his fantasies. He realized that if he wanted to be part of your life.. He needed to use more forceful methods.

Dreadbear

Dreadbear is a manipulative yandere. It's not all that strange that he is a manipulative yandere. From the very moment that you met him, he started to control you. Started to choose for you and scare you into submissiveness. You always thought that he hated you, but how wrong you were. If only you knew how much he actually loved you. Maybe a little bit too much. When you would realize that he loves you, it's not really a surprise that you would end up running away from him. He has been hurting you for so long. You weren't willing to try and stay with him. Though, sadly, you should have known better... Guess he now has to punish you. Truly, that is sad. Not.

Montgomery Gator

Montgomery is a dependant yandere. It took almost no time for Montgomery to trust you to the point of depending on you for almost everything. He was always stuck to your back, and he would beg you all the time to not leave him, saying that he needed you and that if you left him, he was going to die from loneliness. It was often cute until he would start getting more aggressive in hopes of keeping you with him for longer. Like the time he broke your legs. The moment that you rejected him, he would be strangely calm. To the point of you thinking things would go okay. That is, until... You feel the world darken and the next thing you realize is that you are somewhere tight... Somewhere like Montgomery's ecto suit. Looks like you really aren't leaving now.

Henry Emily

Henry is a projective yandere. After his daughter died, he met you and he felt like she was alive again. Like things were going again. The way you acted wasn't exactly like his daughter's, that's why he managed to fall for you. The feeling of familiarity, but also the opposite of it, it made him fall for you... But because of what had happened to his dear daughter, he wasn't willing to let you ever leave him. He wasn't going to let the past repeat. The moment that you would try to leave, he would catch you almost immediately. He has a tracker installed on you and all of those plushies in your room have cameras... Now, go back without a fight or he will have to hurt you. And he doesn't want to do that.

Spring Bonnie

Spring Bonnie is a disappearance yandere. Spring Bonnie really does love you. That's why he knows you could never love someone like him. He has done many bad things in his lifetime, even now, he watched you in secret and would steal your things, just so he would feel you closer to himself. He knows very well that he is a bad person, that's why he avoids being near you as much as possible, even if hurts him. The moment you would approach him about why he is avoiding you, things changed. You seemed so sad that he was avoiding you.. Maybe you loved him too? The idea itself brought an even darker obsession inside of him towards you, knowing that from this point on, he couldn't return to watching you just from the shadows.

Molten Freddy

Molten Freddy is a final yandere. When you were alive, the two would have a very rocky relationship. You would keep trying to keep him together, keep him alive, meanwhile he would always end up trying to either kill you or would end up hurting. The true obsession would start after one of his attempts accidentally worked and you ended up dead. Life without you was... Empty. So goddamn empty... He needed you, but you weren't here anymore. Nothing was going to bring you back.. He would attempt to bring you back as an animatronic. And when he would succeed... Well, trust me, things won't really go well. Not for you or anyone around you, who would try to talk to you...

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 25-27

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 18k

chapter 25

“What do you mean we’re working a missing dog case?” Hotch questioned his whole entire life at that moment as Mindy and Garcia explained the case they think they found.

“Sir, I promise you’re going to want to listen to this,” Garcia said softly, her green dress and pink hair pom-poms really reassuring him that everything was fine.

Y/N watched him roll his eyes and wish he was somewhere else, he had been getting more and more fed up with work lately. Having a hard time with Strauss, his wife, and the job in general. After Hayley almost died last year and being stabbed, he had the worst luck on the team.

“It’s going to take a minute for you to see what we see,” Mindy matched Garcia’s aura perfectly, dressed in a cat sweater.

“All 5 of these families have reported dogs missing in the Sacramento area. You think that’s not that weird, they’re probably stealing dogs for fights and step one in the serial killer handbook. But you’d be wrong,” Garcia explained, flipping from photos of missing dog posters to murdered families.

“The dogs go missing right, the parents put all their information onto a flyer, the flyer gets plastered into the neighbourhood where everyone sees it. The unsub takes the flyer, and the dog and returns it to the family just to get inside of the house. He learns what their safety protocols are like and then he decides to break in and murder,” Mindy laid it all out easily for them to follow.

“Is there any evidence that the killer is the dognapper?” Prentiss asked, chewing on the end of her pencil as she tried to wrap her head around it all.

“No,” Garcia pressed her lips together quickly. “But! Family number 5, they were murdered on Friday. Their crime scene is the newest, it’s where we’ll get the best idea of what’s going on.”

“Sir,” Mindy added. “If I’m correct about this, another family is going to die in 2 days. There’s been another small dog reported missing in Sacramento, the same type of family and everything. It’s a signature if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Send us everything you have, wheels up in 20,” Hotch sighed, taking his things and leaving the room.

“Is he okay?” Y/N asked Rossi.

Dave and he were the closest, Hotch never told his secrets of personal gossip to anyone else. He knew Rossi understood family problems the best. Having been married and divorced 3 times each.

“Don’t repeat this, Garcia that means you,” he teased her quickly. “He asked Hayley if she wanted more kids, after seeing you and JJ expanding the BAU’s gifted children program. She said she’d only have another baby if he took a few years off.”

“Oh,” Y/N wasn’t surprised. If Spencer wasn’t in the BAU he probably wouldn’t get it either. “He’s young, he can come back at any time, as you did.”

“Which is what I said to him. He just doesn’t know how he’d fill all the time yet, he doesn’t have an interest in fishing or cigars like moi,” Rossi explained. Standing up and straightening out his suit, “not to mention the writing chops to keep your brain fresh.”

“Come on grandpa, it’s time to board the plane you can brag later,” Derek patted him on the back. “Some of us like to stay active and have fun on our time off.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fun,” Rossi argues as they leave the room. They were like a bunch of teenagers sometimes.

“Well, I’ll see you in a few days, just be in Vegas by Sunday at 2 pm,” Y/N frowned at Spencer. “Call me when you’re free?”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her softly. Rubbing his hand over her belly as he did so, saying goodbye to the little dude in there. “Be good, take care of each other.”

She smiled, wishing he didn’t have to go again. “We always do, come home to me safely boy wonder.”

In Penelope’s office, Mindy had basically moved in. It was big enough for the two of them and they worked together anyway. Sharing all the computer space, rolling around each other like crazy people as they switched jobs. That meant that Mindy’s office became Y/N’s office when she stayed back on a case.

Y/N would be 33 weeks pregnant as of Thursday, and officially Mrs. Dr. Reid by Sunday.

If everything went according to plan. This case seemed simple enough to get them home in time. If not, the flight from LA to Vegas wasn’t even that long. Y/N and Will had a plan if this was to happen, JJ and Spencer would head right to Vegas while Will and Henry flew in with Y/N. All she really needed was her wedding dress and hospital go-bag, and Spencer.

She wasn’t going to go into labour any time soon, Matty was still way too high and she was barely even having Braxton hicks contractions yet. If her body wasn’t practicing, surely it wouldn’t just start. She was a planner, she planned everything and this pregnancy didn’t seem to listen. All she wanted was for him to be born on or after June 10th, healthy and happy, that’s her only wish.

She hated cases like these, ones that made her sit behind a desk and just look at everything till it made sense. But it never did, not in her brain. Thinking like an unsub was the only time it made sense, but she never understood it. Kidnapping a dog just to kill a family was never going to be something one could just understand.

The only idea she had was to get someone inside the newest victims’ house and just wait for the unsub to return the dog. It would be the easiest way to bring him in for questioning. So she called Hotch.

“Hotchner,” he answered shortly.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you had a plan yet? If not, I’ve been thinking.”

“We’re trying to find a way to get eyes and ears inside the vics home,” Hotch explained, it sounded like he was driving and yelling over the speaker.

“I was thinking you could send in Reid or Morgan posing as a tutor or coach of some kind, then you can hide the equipment in the bag they bring in, it would be the least suspicious,” she ran her thoughts through to him.

“That would work, I’ll have the team see what we can do from our end,” Hotch ended the call abruptly. Still in the bad mood from when he left.

She couldn’t blame him, it’s a hard spot raising kids and having this job. Y/N and Spencer were still trying to figure out how they were going to pull it off. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Haley, always being alone with Jack and half the time her life was in danger. The risk that came with the job almost didn’t feel worth it, especially when it meant losing your family on top of everything else.

They sent Derek in, with Penelope in his ear, as he set up the cameras and microphones. Setting up 24/7 patrol across the street in a model home. Meaning that Y/N’s job was basically over and all she had to do was kick her feet up and eat snacks until she could go home.

—

Spencer crawled into bed 2 days later around 4 in the morning, cuddling into her without even taking off his work clothes. She barely slept when Spencer wasn’t home, she opened her eyes when she noticed he was there, as if she hadn’t even slept yet.

He smelled like hotel soap and stale airplane air. “Hi,” he whispered as he tried to cuddle in close to her, being held back by her belly.

“Home just in time to have to fly out again,” she smiled at him softly.

“I know,” he sighed. “I doubt the bureau would like us if we used the jet to travel to a wedding. It’s bad enough we have one and no other unit does.”

“Are you excited or nervous?”

“Both.”

“Mmm,” she hummed along. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I still haven’t written my vows and,” she stopped herself, frowning a little as Spencer laid a hand on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s all happening so fast. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to enjoy any of it and I’m worried if this is how fast the lead-up is, then how fast will the night be over?”

“Oh bunny,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure we get a moment alone, how about we sneak off during the party and go to the swing and just spend time together? Really make the most of our day.”

“Okay,” she smiled again. “A part of me wishes it was just us.”

“How about this,” Spencer said as he sat up, turning on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. He looked through his underwear drawer and pulled out the box the rings were in. “Marry me, right now?”

“What?” She laughed.

“Just me and you, marry me?”

“It won’t count this way?” She rebutted, sitting up as well as she squinted in the light. Trying to wake up more.

“you’re not religious and you hate the government even though you work for them,” he reminded her. “Having a sheet of paper and dedicating my life to you are two completely different things.”

“I told you I don’t have my vows ready!”

Spencer sat on the bed, sitting directly across from her as he placed the rings on the bed. Taking both her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. “Just make it up?”

“You’re insufferable,” she teased him.

“And you love me,” he teased right back.

“Fine, Spencer Reid, you big fuckin’ dork,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “My whole life I’ve just wanted to love you. I don’t know how I managed to pull it off, but here I am."

She let out a long, shaky breath as she continued. "You complete me, I don’t feel right when you’re not around and I never want to lose you. Marrying you means more to me than just becoming your wife, I don’t care about the term or the tax benefits," she laughed as a tear fell down her cheek. he wiped it away quickly.

"I was perfectly content just being in your rotation. Being your partner for life is a blessing to me, I’m going to love you forever.” She picked up and ring and put it on his finger.

His eyes were glossy as he watched her shaking hand slip the ring over him. He loved her more than he even knew how to describe at the moment.

“Do you remember that one time you asked me to show you how a real man loves a woman?”

She laughed, looking down at her gigantic belly. “Kinda hard to forget when I’m carrying around this extra 30 pounds.”

“It reminded me of a quote I read on a swing one time,” he said softly, watching her eyes gleam as she knew where he was going.

“The unqualified truth is, that when I loved Y/N with the love of a man, I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I love her nonetheless because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.”

“What’s that from?” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, she had never known what book he was reading. She always wondered what his thoughts were in that moment when their eyes locked in remembrance all those years ago.

“Great Expectations by Charles Dickens,” Spencer replied, starting to cry as well.

That’s when she remembered it, looking over at the book that had been sitting on his bedside table for months. It was the book he re-read the most, the book he was reading that first night in Wichita when she asked to crawl into his bed. The book he put down before they conceived Matthew. The whole time she was falling in love with him, the way she did as a child, he was reading the same book because it reminded him of her.

“I didn’t expect that book to hold such a place in my heart the first time I read it. I only brought it to the park with me that day because it was the closest book to me, and I was having a really hard day,” he stopped to wipe his tears softly. “Yet somehow, every single bad day in my life has been made better by you. You’re my greatest expectation, and the only one I’m trying the hardest to live up to.”

“I love you,” she replied to him softly. Holding his face in her hands now as she stared into his eyes, “you’re always going to be everything I’ve ever wanted and all I’ll ever need. You’ve met every expectation, and beyond.”

“I love you,” he smiled. He took her left hand off his cheek, sliding the silver band over her ring finger, pressing it snugly against her engagement ring. “forever.”

“And then some,” Y/N added before kissing him softly.

She smiled against his lips, sitting back and looking at him with complete wonder. “Dr. Y/L/N,” she teased him, pretending to tip her imaginary hat.

“Agent Reid,” he copied her causing them both to laugh again.

“So when is our real anniversary then?” Y/N asked softly, trying to remember what day of the month it was.

“It’s April 20th.”

“Our anniversary cannot be 4/20!” She panicked. “Oh. My god!”

Spencer laughed from down deep in his gut, laying down against the sheets as she smacked his arm lightly. “I’m serious, but that’s so funny though,” she laughed too.

She laid back against the sheets then, Spencer cuddled into her side. His face in the crook of her neck while laying a leg over hers. She held him as close as she could, Matthew really starting to get in the way of everything she did now.

She let out a deep breath as she settled with Spencer against her. “I love you so much, my husband.”

“I love you more, my wife,” he replied. The words sounding like heaven on his lips.

chapter 26

She let out a deep breath when the dress actually zipped up. She was so worried that in the last 2 weeks her body had completely changed. JJ finished with her zipper, fluffing her dress and making sure everything was in place.

Her mom was wiping her tears for the 4th time in the last hour, Y/N couldn’t stop laughing every time she heard her sniffle. It didn’t feel as life-changing as her mother made it seem, Spencer and Y/N were already married in her opinion, this was just a nice formality for their parents.

She could hear all the people talking in her parent’s yard, a few kids yelling as they ran around each other. People were already drinking, there was food and snacks all around. It was just a big party where they were going to tell everyone exactly how much they loved each other.

As much as she was ready mentally, her body was shot. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t leave, the baby was kicking from the anxiety in her body no matter how hard she tried to calm down. It was nerve-wracking to be so open in front of so many people.

It was even worse with the fact she hadn’t seen Spencer since yesterday. As much as he claimed he wasn’t superstitious, he really didn’t want to see her before the wedding. Claiming his mother was the worried one, Y/N let it slide no matter how much she hated sleeping in her childhood bed all by herself with a mini-gymnast in her stomach.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked her softly.

She nodded, looking in the mirror at herself one last time. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure,” JJ smiled, taking Debbie with her as they walked out of her room.

She stood in the window, opening the blinds and looking out towards the swings once again. Spencer was sitting there, swinging while staring at her window.

She smiled, feeling the butterflies leave her system in a beautiful flurry as their eyes locked. She was ready, she had always been ready to marry him.

She walked out of the room and down the stairs, holding the railing carefully. She was just wearing a pair of crocs under her dress, not trusting her big clumsy ass with heels.

She waited in the foyer as Emily walked across the street to gather everyone. She was officiating for them, Spencer wanted her to be the one to marry them, she was the closest thing to a sister he had.

Every single important person in their lives was in the crowd. Even Spencers father was there, in the back, quiet. Diana was happy to see him, Spencer felt indifferent. Gideon came too, which made it a little easier.

They all walked across the street then, gathering at the end of the makeshift aisle they laid out in the park. Penelope played a simple wedding march, starting the ceremony officially.

Everyone stood, turning towards them. Chloe went down first, dropping flower petals in big clumps here and there before running towards her mom. Then it was Y/N’s turn, opting out of the whole bridesmaid’s thing for the sake of not having to pick and choose between her co-workers and sisters-in-law.

Her dad extended an arm for her, she took it as she softly smiled at him. He looked like he was trying not to cry, “ready?”

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Seeing Spencer at the end of the aisle was like a dream. She began to walk towards him, every step closer made her heartbeat louder and louder in her chest. Before she knew it she was standing in front of him, her dad giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before handing her over to Spencer.

The idea of giving her away was weird. He wasn’t giving her to him, he was simply helping her reach him. And he always had been.

Spencer’s hand was soft in hers and they stepped towards Emily together.

The music stopped then, causing them to turn to each other and smile. It was time.

It felt more like time stopped, however, getting a sort of tunnel vision for each other as the rest of the world faded away.

“Welcome everyone, you can take a seat,” Emily cut into the moment. “A few weeks ago Spencer asked me if I’d marry him off to his best friend, I of course said yes because who can say no to that face?”

Everyone laughed as Spencer blushed. “Spencer is the smartest man to work in the FBI, we’re not afraid to admit that. From the day I met him, he was nothing but informative and kind, as well as shy and personal. It took a while to learn anything about him, but once you get to know him he’s like an open book. And it’s a good story.”

“Like most good fairy tales, it’s a story told in two parts. Starting with a meet-cute of cosmic proportions, a plotline that would make any other ’right for each other at the wrong time,’ story run for the hills,” Emily exaggerated.

“And finally, a reunion,” her voice was soft then. “I’ll never forget the day Spencer held the door open for Y/N, she walked in with a smile on her face that was almost as big as Spencers. He introduced us to a childhood friend that day, not realizing she would become part of our family.”

Y/N felt herself getting a little choked up, seeing Penelope and JJ wiping their tears just off to the side.

“It’s a story best told in the first person,” Emily laughed at her own joke. “So, without further ado, ladies first,” she instructed, stepping away from the altar to keep the focus on them.

“Well?” Y/N shook her head at him, motioning with her hand for him to start speaking. Making everyone laugh once again. Spencer’s smile was adorable as he giggled.

“Would you say— hypothetically, of course, that soulmates are real, Doctor Reid?” She questioned him softly.

He nodded, “I would.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I think you’re mine. And I think I’ve known that for a very long time. There was something about you, that first day I saw you. You weren’t shoving dirt up your nose or pulling on my hair. You were reading a book, I believe it was Matilda, you were all by yourself and you looked sad.”

“Me, being me,” she laughed to herself, “I marched over to you and I asked if you wanted to play in the sandbox with me. One small gesture changed the entire course of my life, you became a friend and then a stranger again in the blink of an eye. I know what it’s like to know of you and not be in your presence and it’s the worst.”

She didn’t want to cry, but she knew she was about to. “I know you’re my soulmate because my soul physically aches when you’re not around. Like magnets, I’m pulled towards you and I’m willing to crush anything that gets in the way. You and I were once the same cosmic rock just floating through space, separated for millions of years until the time was right.”

“I found you right when I needed you,” she wiped a tear off her cheek quickly. “When we needed each other. And I’m never going to let you go.”

She turned towards Emily, grabbing a ring from her. “With this ring, you’re tied to me for eternity now, the way things always should have been.”

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, wiping his own tears before holding her hands again.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” she teased him one last time, laughing to try and stop the tears.

“Most of you know the story,” Spencer began his speech. Staring into Y/N’s eyes, trying to forget there was an audience.

“We met in kindergarten, she was wearing a sundress with green and pink flowers, much like today. You had bangs back then and a cute pink bow in your hair. And you were as stubborn then as you are now,” he smiled. “Mrs. Richardson had told me twice that we weren’t allowed to put water in the sandbox, no matter how important it was to the construction of my model pyramids. That’s why I was reading my book. You went to your backpack, grabbed a water bottle, and poured it right into the sand without thinking twice about the consequences.

“I didn’t really see you again until I was 13, I sat on that swing with my copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens while you sat in your window way up there.” He pointed at her house, past the swing set. “I’ll never know what you were reading or what you were thinking, but I have the exact moment I saw you ingrained in my memory,” Spencer’s words were soft as his thumbs ran over her hands.

“Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets.” Spencer recited from memory.

“You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Y/N, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you,” Spencer’s voice trailed off to a whisper as he reached the end.

“I read that quote moments before seeing you again, and part of me knew the universe had greater plans for us. And I knew, Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!”

“With this ring,” Spencer finally added. Lifting the last ring from Derek’s extended hand, placing it on Y/N’s ring finger where it belonged. “I vow to love you till my very last moments, and if heaven is real I’ll be waiting for your loving embrace.”

She wiped her tears quickly, looking up as she tried to stop her mascara from smudging. “You’re a dick sometimes,” she started to laugh before hearing the crowd do the same.

“You love me,” he teased her.

“I do,” she smiled, pulling him in and kissing him hard on the lips. Getting lost in his embrace as the world around them stopped.

—

Having every single person that she loved mingle around her parent’s backyard felt a little surreal. Her father and Rossi were smoking cigars together on the desk, Levi and Will were discussing training stories while Chloe and Henry chased each other around the yard.

Emily and Noelle were slowly dancing in their own little world to the music that played, not too far from Haley and Arron who had the same idea. Jack was talking to Derek, sharing stories about their favourite superhero.

Diana and Debbie were going around making sure everyone had a drink or a snack, discussing their children and showing off to everyone that was there. It was a lot to take in, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. This was the most perfect little wedding she could have ever asked for.

Spencer never left her side, holding her hand where ever she went for the majority of the night. Knowing she hated being the centre of anyone else attention, calming her down from all the eyes that were on her.

“Do you want to go to the swing?” He whispered in her ear when they were finally alone.

“Please,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting to just be alone with him for a while.

She snuck out of the yard and across the street, Y/N sat down on the swing for the first time in years, her big belly thanking her for the relief. Spencer pushed her lightly on the swing, helping her swing in the late-night spring breeze in rural Nevada.

The light in her bedroom was still on, illuminating the empty room she called hers for the majority of her life. Still unable to process the fact that she did it, she married Spencer. She made a life in his orbit, she was happy and loved and making a family with the man of her dreams.

This was the best revenge she could have ever gotten on any childhood bully or predator in her life. Pure happiness, that no one could take from her. Knowing she did this on her own, meeting Spencer out of the blue and building a life of joy and peace was so unbelievably wonderful.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Spencer asked softly as he continued to push her on the swing.

“I’m just amazed that I did it,” she said softly.

“Did what?”

“all this,” she waved her arm out in front of her. “I grew up, I made friends and a family and found the love of my life even after believing for so long that I never would.”

“the universe had better plans for you than you thought,” She could hear the smile on Spencer’s face as he spoke. “You’re so deserving of the world and then some, you’re worth the universe to me. Brighter than any star in the sky, more powerful than the big-bang.”

She dragged her feet along the sand, stopping the swing abruptly before turning around to see Spencer. His eyes glistened in the moonlight or the streetlight. Either way, his brown eyes were glowing as she looked up at him softly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, pressing her cheek against his chest softly. “For showing me that love is real.”

“Being able to love you has been the best part of my life.”

She pulled him into another kiss, holding his face softly as she peppered kisses to his lips over and over. “You get me forever.”

“And then some.”

“Hypothetically,” she teased him lightly. “Anything is possible when the two of us get together.”

“I love you,” was all he could say before kissing her again.

They could hear the music travelling across the street for the yard, she wrapped her arms around him and swayed to the beat. Taking a moment completely alone with him to just appreciate him. To hold him close, hear his heartbeat through his suit jacket and just take it all in.

The rest of her life started at that moment, the birth of a new future. One with endless possibilities, endless happiness, and the most love in the whole world.

Soulmates, 500 years in the making.

Placing 500 more years of possibilities in the hands of Fate, who cradled them in her loving embrace. Making a future for them unlike any she’s made before.

Epilogue

2020

The birds chirping used to make her wake up with a smile, now it made her panic a little. She was so overly used to being woken up to a baby crying, a kid with a tummy ache, or the sound of fighting coming from the cribs in the twin’s room.

When it was quiet she worried, opening her eyes and looking around to see all 4 of her children cuddled up around her and Spencer. Completely asleep, and absolutely adorable.

Matthews’s face was beside hers on the pillow. His long hair falling over his face, just like his fathers used to all those years ago. She kissed her baby on the forehead, unable to fully understand that he was 10 now.

The twins were in the middle, Harper and Derek were attached at the hip all day long. Sleeping basically on top of each other, it was the only way they were peaceful. Since being squished together in the womb, they’ve become best friends and each other’s comfort person over the last 6 years.

Alice on the other hand was a daddy’s girl. Probably because she got the most time with him, 2 and a half years’ worth of all Spencer’s love and affection.

Spencer had quit the BAU when they got pregnant with their last baby, deciding he wanted to be with his kids full time. He wanted to be more present, to make more memories and just be a good dad.

Every morning Alice would find her way into the bed, she’d do whatever it took to get between Y/N and Spencer, cuddling into her father’s arms and going back to sleep. Almost every time, she would push her mom��s arms away, waking Y/N up in the process just to smirk at her as if to say; “haha my turn.”

She loved her little family. And they loved her too, she had been out of town for a week on a really bad case that required all hands on deck. They called her every day, begging her to come home soon, breaking her heart. So it wasn’t a surprise to see all of them snuggled in, taking in all the time with her that they could.

Matthews’s eyes fluttered as he woke up, his big beautiful brown eyes looking at her softly. “Mom,” he said softly with a smile before wrapping his arms around her neck and snuggling into her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Mr. Magoo,” she whispered into his hair, holding him close. He still smelled like her little baby, only bigger as he rested against her.

“Are we still going to Uncle Dave’s tonight?” He asked as he settled against her, wanting her to run her fingers through his hair. It calmed him as it did for Spencer, soothing his mind as it ran a million miles a minute.

“I think so,” she replied, picking him up softly and laying on her back more. “I think all your cousins are going to be there too.”

“Even Jack?” He asked, sitting up with wonder in his eyes. Jack was 15 now, and just the coolest dude in Matthews’s life. Much like how Spencer looked up to Hotch in the beginning.

“Even Jack!” She whispered with enthusiasm, trying to keep the others asleep but it was too late.

“Mommy!” Harper cried, pushing Derek away from her as she leaped into her mother’s arms.

“Hi sweetheart,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she got smothered in hugs from the twins.

Spencer looked over at her then. Alice was snuggled into his neck, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair. She had always played with his hair every chance she could get. Especially whenever he held her or gave her a ride on his shoulders as they walked through the park.

“Hi,” Spencer smiled.

There he was, the love of her life. His smile made her feel at home, the love between them only growing every morning when they laid eyes on each other.

“Are you going to say hi to mommy?” Spencer asked Alice, rubbing her back softly.

She raised her hand to wave softly before dropping it back onto Spencer’s head with a smack, “ow?” He laughed lightly, making her bounce on his chest and laugh in response.

She was always quiet in the morning, leaving all the talking to her siblings. She was the calmest of them all, she was also the easiest of the 4 of them. She didn’t cry unless she was desperate for food or attention, she slept through the nights and was just all around not fussy at all. A literal blessing to their lives.

The twins were a lot, they knew they would be. She doesn’t miss the days and nights of them taking turns screaming. And she definitely doesn’t miss the ache of her body as two babies sucked her dry for almost 6 months. Breastfeeding kicked her ass the most, eventually making her lose too much weight and faint from low blood pressure, it sucked.

The outcome was beyond worth it. Derek and Harper were the craziest, funniest, loudest 6-year-olds in the whole world. If they weren’t writing a show, pretending to direct a spooky movie or pulling pranks on their father, they were planning to.

They had a specific dynamic, Harper was the planner and Derek was the do-er. Harper would come up with the sneakiest, worst ideas a child could have and somehow always managed to convince Derek to do it for her. A modern-day Jekyll and Hyde terrorized her home.

But Matthew, He was the sweetest. Being a single child till the age of 4 meant he was around Spencer and Y/N all the time, just the three of them. He’s shy but outgoing, he speaks his mind and he isn’t afraid to share his thoughts and feelings. He’s the best part of both of them but with all the confidence to follow his dreams. He was handsome and smart, he was sweet and kind, he was her baby. Forever and always, no matter how big he got.

He’s smart like Spencer, but not jumping through elementary school as fast. They agreed to let him decide when he turned 14. He deserved the chance to grow up with his own age group, to make friends and memories that were good and happy, to build the confidence to stand up for himself and others before he finished school. He didn’t mind it, he enjoyed helping other students when he finished his work early and asking for extra credit assignments.

And he liked being in class with Roz LaMontagne. They were smitten with each other from day one, always holding hands and playing nicely. JJ and Y/N always felt bad peeling them apart from each other at the end of a playdate, they were best friends.

It was like Roz had 2 older brothers with Henry and Matt, the 3 of them being so close in age they were often mistaken for triplets, with JJ and Y/N being their lesbian moms. It was a ruse that came in handy when they saw men checking them out, or when they wanted a family discount at the zoo.

Her life felt perfect, it was far from it in reality but she was happy with that. She worked long hours, her kids missed her every day, she didn’t see Spencer as often as she’d like and she was always tired. But that was what it took, she would work herself to the bone in an instant if it meant that she could come home and be snuggled like this every time.

“How was your week?” She asked Harper, brushing her strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she cuddled into her other side. Now having 3 children laying on top of her.

“Dad took us to the air and space museum,” Derek answered for her.

“No way!” Y/N enthused. “You need to tell me everything you learned!”

“The Museum is the largest of the Smithsonian's 19 museums and its Center for Earth and Planetary studies is one of the Institution's nine research centres. More than eight million people a year visit the Museum's two locations, making it one of the most visited museums in the country,” Matthew explained, remembering the sign at the entrance from memory.

“Wow, what was everyone’s favourite part? Maybe we can go again soon and you can all show me?” She suggested, riling them all up till they were bouncing on the mattress and screaming suggestions back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N settled them down. Watching them all sit-down and smile as they tried to stop laugh and listen. “Why don’t we go get breakfast and spend the morning together before we get ready to go to Aunt Penny’s party tonight okay?”

“I thought it was Uncle Dave's party?” Derek asked.

“It’s at his house but you know how aunt penny plans,” Y/N smiled at him. “How about you all go get dressed and pick something nice to wear while I talk to your dad for a bit?”

“Anything I want to wear?” Harper questioned her, very serious.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, “something nice, but yes your choice.”

“Yes!” Harper screamed, hopping off the bed making the whole room shake as she ran down the hall. The sound of her bare feet slapping the hardwood carrying through the hallway in an echo.

“Matty, I’ll dress Alice, can you just watch her for a minute?” Spencer asked as he placed Alice in the middle of the bed.

“Sure,” Matthew smiled. “Come on Ali, I’ll read you a book?”

She put her arms out for her brother to carry her, and soon enough it was just Spencer and Y/N all alone again. Spencer and her both falling back against the pillows and sighing in the quiet.

Spencer pulled her into a hug, wrapping himself around her as he kissed her cheek, “I missed you so much, I hate when you’re gone.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she said softly. “I got a job offer last night, and I think I’m going to take it.”

“What is it?”

“VICAP and the BAU are merging, even more, I’ve been asked to be the Chief of VICAP to personally overview the program and pass the information along to Prentiss,” She explained. “It would be a 9-5 thing, 5 days a week. I’d be home for dinner and all weekend long. We could have another baby or go on vacation? You know the possibilities are endless.”

Spencer kissed her again, “you’d be able to help people and be home all the time.”

“Exactly,” she smiled into his embrace. “I told them I’d let them know later today, they want me to start next month.”

“Follow your gut,” Spencer whispered, happy at the decision she was making either way.

“My gut is currently saying ‘feeeeed meeee’, so let’s get going!” She cheered as she tried to escape from his embrace.

He just held on tighter, tickling her stomach and kissing her neck, “help!” She cried, joking obviously and the kids knew that. Sure enough, 4 pairs of feet came running back into their room, dog piling them.

“I said help! Not suffocate me?!” She teased them as Spencer let her go, each taking a child and tickling them instead. Everyone was screaming again, giggling from deep in their stomach, feeling sick from how happy they were.

She loved every moment of it.

—

After 10 years, the BAU had gone through a lot of changes. Everyone seemed to come and go at least once, some leaving for good when their families started. But there were a lot of new faces now, once someone was on the team they were family.

It was a rare occasion for everyone to get together, especially now that almost everyone had kids. Spencer and Y/N went from being the 2nd set of parents to aunty and uncle to 8 kids in 10 years.

That meant that there were currently 12 screaming kids terrorizing Rossi’s beautiful backyard as the adults sat around the fire. “Please tell me no one here has a baby announcement to make, I don’t think I can handle a thirteenth,” Rossi complained, grey hair making him look more like papa Rossi than uncle Dave now.

“No,” everyone said in unison, laughing at the abundantly clear meaning. They were all too tired to do it all again.

“Like Spencer’s mom said, why have another when you can stop at perfection?” Emily joked as she leaned into Noelle’s embrace. “PJ is the best little guy in the world.”

“Spencer makes some great kids,” Y/N laughed. Remembering that time Emily nervously asked them if Spencer would be the donor for her child. Wanting her kid to be born with the best DNA she could think of.

“That he does,” Noelle smiled, looking into the yard to see PJ, Michael and Hank roughhousing like they always were.

They all had kids fairly close together, always making sure each new member of the BAU's gifted children program had friends who were more like family in their lives. Their small chosen family expanded not only in size but with the amount of love they shared for each other.

Henry was 12 now, Jack 15. They had always gotten along well together, being a little more on the nerdy side. They welcomed Matthew into their little group with open arms, as well as Roz.

Hotch ended up becoming Section Chief, taking a desk job so that he could spend more time with his family. They welcomed Jessie 6 years ago, right around the time Y/N had the twins. She was a spitting image of Haley with all the stern seriousness of Hotch. Seeing her and Harper try and work together was always funny. Harper and Derek were always trying to start shit somewhere, while Jessie ran to Y/N to tattle on them. It was the funniest dynamic out of all the age groups, and it was only going to get worse as they grew up.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed, looking at her kids as they all smiled and laughed. The joy they brought her was unimaginable, “I think 5 would be interesting.”

“You’re a psycho, and I should know, I’m an expert,” JJ just shook her head, blinking at the craziness. “I can barely handle 3.”

“Alice was so easy though,” she whined. “All of them were good, I miss having a baby who wanted to cuddle with me. It’s not fair Spencer gets all the attention now.”

“You could always quit, they’d love that,” he teased her softly, not wanting to wake Alice as she slept on him, tired from playing with everyone during the afternoon.

“My new position is going to be better for us,” she smirked.

“What position?” Penelope yelled at her.

“I’m going to be the VICAP unit chief,” she smiled, watching them all light up as they congratulated her. Starling the sleeping Alice on Spencer’s chest.

“I think I’ve done enough fieldwork, I’d like to cook more dinners and read more bedtime stories now,” she smiled. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Haley added. “I never expected Aaron to slow down, but when he did I think it was the best thing he chose to do. Jack and Jessie love having him around all the time.”

“To 10 plus years on the job, 10 years of friendship and the 12 new lives we brought into this world,” Y/N said as she lifted her can of ginger-ale, everyone following with their own drinks.

“To family,” Prentiss added.

“To family,” they all repeated.

Taking a sip before smiling at each other, everything ended up okay. It was more than they ever expected, and everything they hoped for.

—

The kids all fell asleep on the ride home. Spencer and Y/N each taking one of the twins upstairs first, placing them in their beds softly before returning to the garage for the others. Finding Matthew trying to carefully bring Alice inside to help his parents.

“Hey Matty it’s okay,” Spencer whispered, placing a hand on his back. “you go inside with your mom and I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay,” he replied, extremely tired as his eyelids drooped.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulders, he was almost as tall as her already and she wasn’t ready for that. “Come on my baby,” she whispered as she led him into the house and up the stairs.

She helped him change into a pair of pyjamas before helping him into his bed, covering him in his adorable planet-covered sheets. She tucked him in nice a snug before sitting on the edge, looking down at him as he closed his eyes and settled in.

She brushed his brown curls off his face, making way for the kiss she was about to leave on his forehead. “Goodnight my Matty Magoo, I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the edge of the milky way,” he replied with a small smile. “I’m excited for you to be home more. Dad worries about you and it makes him sad, I like seeing you both happy together.” He rambled all his thoughts out at night just like Spencer did.

She kissed his head softly, holding his cheeks in her hand as she looked into his beautiful brown eyes. “You are so sweet, have a good sleep and I will see you tomorrow. I love you.” She told him again, and she’d tell him a million more times if she could.

“I love you, too, mom,” he smiled one last time before closing his eyes.

She shut off his lamp, closing his door on the way out.

She stood in the hallway then, a hand on her heart as she thought about just how much she loved him. JJ wasn’t kidding when she said you grow a love so big you’d kill for them.

Back in the twin’s room, she made sure they were comfortable for the night, taking Harper out of the crazy dress and pants she picked out for the day. Tucking both of them into their little beds, kissing their heads before turning on their nightlight. They didn’t like the dark, and they liked to keep their door open a little so buddy could sneak in.

In her own room, she found Spencer in bed, shirtless with a book. He got sexier as he got older, it was impossible and yet it happened. Every year he looked different, in a wonderful way.

His hair was fluffy, his tummy was fuller— a dad bod as Penelope would call it. He wore glasses all the time now, having a hard time reading without them. It made him incredibly hot.

She changed into a cute pyjama set, satin shorts and a spaghetti strap top, wanting to get his attention away from whatever book he found this time.

She could feel his eyes on her as she changed, not wanting to look at him and make him stop.

He put his book down when she got in beside him, still on the right side after all these years. “What?” She asked him as he kept staring at her.

“Were you serious?”

“Yes I do think you’re sexy, I didn’t think you could read minds too?” She teased him.

“Funny,” he smiled at her. “Do you want another baby?”

She shrugged, “we could Russian roulette this and just see if it happens?”

“Seriously?” His voice dropped, softer than normal. “Because I would have 16 more kids with you if you wanted. They’re all so amazing, every time.”

“I know,” she felt her heart melt. “Matthew said you get sad when I’m not here, he worries for you.”

“All week, Harper wore her regular outfits because she likes making you laugh with her silly ones,” Spencer told her. They liked to share secrets about their kids at night. Basically profiling them.

“I love them,” her heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Come here,” Spencer requested, waiting for her to sit on his hips and look down into his eyes like she always did. She brushed the hair off his face, holding his cheeks in her hands.

His eyes are so much like Matthews, but it was Alice who looked the most like him. She had his nose, his chin, she was tall and skinny and just the most adorable copy of him. Every feature on him was in one of their kids, he saw the same thing in her.

“Are you sure?” She asked him softly.

“The only thing in the whole world that I know for certain is that I love you and this family. Even gravity is simply a hypothetical, but you and me… I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” his words soft and his expression softer.

She kissed him, pressing her lips against his for the first time in a while. It always felt like coming home, this was where she was meant to be.

When she pulled back all she wanted to do was look at him for a minute, to imagine what new little face the two of them could make together. All 4 of their children were so perfect, she couldn’t imagine a 5th possibility.

“Put a baby in me,” She whispered.

She didn’t have to tell him twice, he reached over to the night table to turn off the light before kissing her neck softly. His big, warm hands wrapped around her back, pulling her in closer to him.

He was so much different now from the first time they did this. Confident, stronger, older, but he was still her soft boy. He held her with care, kissed her like she was made out of glass. The contrast of his actions and the feeling of his rough hands on her body made her feel like she was on fire.

He pushed the straps of her shirt off her shoulders, dipping her back a little so he could kiss her cheek. He pushed her shirt down, freeing one of her breasts, holding it softly in his hands before kissing the newly exposed skin.

His tongue swiped across her nipple, making her gasp and grip his arm as she rutted into the feeling. He cradled her head in his hands, laying her back with her head now at the foot of the bed.

Still, between her legs, he pulled the satin shorts down slowly to see she never wore any underwear under them. He smirked, running his finger softly over her vagina, watching in awe as she spread her legs wider for him.

She could see how hard he was, his erection making a tent in his boxers as he teased her softly. “Still so perfect,” he praised her. “Look how tight you are, sucking my finger inside that tight heat.”

She tightened around him on purpose then, feeling his finger slip in even more. “Fuck,” he gasped. Moving down more to place a kiss on her clit.

Her breathing picked up then, even after 11 years of sex with this man, the thought of his tongue on her still made her shiver. He was just that good, always getting better every time he dove face-first into her.

Her back arched the second his tongue connected with her clit. Pushing herself into his tongue more and more as he explored her. Two fingers were inside of her now, Spencer’s mouth kissing and sucking and licking every single inch of her pussy as she quietly gasped into the darkness.

She wanted to scream for more, she always did, but she couldn’t anymore. There were 4 sets of ears just down the hall trying to have a peaceful night’s sleep, she had to remind herself of that every time.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she whispered, biting her lip so nothing else slipped out.

“What?” He whispered against her skin, kissing her groin and lower tummy.

“Please,” she begged softly, sitting up and climbing onto his lap once more. “Daddy?”

It had been years since she said that to him, not able to utter the words once he actually became a father. It lit a fire in him, pulling her in closer before he ripped the shirt off her body.

He held her against him, kissing her neck as he basically growled at the feeling. Becoming almost feral with the thought of fucking her. She was in love with the feeling, when he got rough with her it was the best.

She enjoyed every second of it, knowing she’d wake up in the morning with beard burn on her neck and between her thighs, not giving a single fuck. It was so worth it, the tickle of his facial hair on her skin beside his mouth, she craved it.

“I need you out of those boxers, sir,” she panted, holding his hair as he continued to kiss her neck.

He pulled off her, looking at her in the darkness with lust-filled eyes. “Lay back,” he instructed her.

She always listened, laying back against the pillows as he freed himself from the confines of his underwear. Crawling on top of her and hovering slightly as he looked down at her. He brushed her hair off her face, kissing her lips lightly before smiling.

“Tell me again what you want?”

She smirked, “I want you to put a baby in me, fill me up. Let me make you a daddy again?”

The noise that left his throat was enough to make her clit twitch again, it was deep and guttural and beyond sexy. He became an animal on nights like this.

She spread her legs again, wrapping her knees around him as he pulled him in against her body. “Fuck me, Spencer.”

He lined himself up with her quickly, dragging the head of his cock through her folds a few times before he began to push in. Little by little, achingly slow. Teasing her, knowing just how badly she wanted him to pound into her.

“Yes,” she sighed as he bottomed out, dropping her head back against the pillow softly.

Her hands roamed his back, waiting for him to start to move again. Digging her nails in when he finally did, pulling out slowly before pushing back in with effort.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, covering her own mouth as he started to move faster.

“Shhh,” he reminded her, kissing her neck again as he found his rhythm.

“Shut up and fuck me then,” she sounded desperate. “Please,” she added. Not wanting him to stop out of spite.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered, placing his own hand over her mouth as he fucked her harder.

She couldn’t believe it, he was holding one hand over her mouth while his other reached for her clit, making her jolt forward at the contact. It was everything she wanted, it was rough and powerful and just the best reminder that she belonged to him.

Spencer was hers, she was his, they created this entire world together. She felt so overwhelmed, she wasn’t aware that she was crying at the pleasure till Spencer moved his hand off her mouth to wipe off a tear.

“Keep going,” she encouraged him. “Please, please.”

“Shhh,” he soothed her, “I’m going to make you feel so good bunny, you’re going to be so full, so beautiful carrying another one of our babies.”

That did it for her, she tilted her head back as she arched her back. Pulling Spencer’s fingers into her mouth so that she wouldn’t moan too loud as she came on his cock.

Spencer shuttered at the feeling, fucking into her with vigour as he tried to hold in his own moans. Sounding more like a whimper when he finally came, spilling into her with the force of a Mack truck.

He dropped against her body then, breathing deep into her neck. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, holding him inside of her so nothing slipped out. “Fuck.”

“I love you,” Spencer breathed against her skin.

She ran her fingers through his hair softly before kissing his forehead. “I love you more.”

They stayed like that for a while, only pulling apart finally to get cleaned up. Spencer turned back on the light, helping her to the bathroom quietly before stripping the sheets off the bed.

She returned to a freshly made bed and a dressed Spencer waiting for her. She put her shorts and a t-shirt back on, slipping into bed and cuddling into him once more. Having to look presentable for when the kids eventually came running into their room at 7 am.

She sighed into his embrace, smiling softly against his skin. “What was that Buddha quote you told me all those years ago?”

“When you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer replied softly.

“Goodnight, Spence,” she kissed his jaw softly as she snuggled in closer.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

the end

[trashyswitch]

Family Reunion: 40 years later.

Michael winds up getting taken while he's asleep, and brought to an alley way. What he expected to be a murder waiting to happen, turns into a family reunion he had no idea he needed...

This fanfic is for that anon that suggested this Scrap Family Reunion idea! Here's the link!

So Sweetheart, wherever you are, I hope you enjoy!

Michael was hanging out in his apartment, cleaning some things and fixing a couple items here and there. It was often a messy apartment that always had more broken things than fixed things. Though the apartment was crappy and he had the money for a better one, Michael actually didn’t mind fixing things. You could say that Michael had become ‘Henry’s special nephew’ since the moment Michael told him he had signed up for an apprenticeship. Though he found that building wasn’t really his thing, he found that engineering and some circuit-building was fun and doable.

Ever since Michael found out about the fate of his sister, Michael did as his father said and put his sister back together. But now his sister was off doing who knows what with the funtimes, and Michael was struggling to find her. But even though he attempted to find him, he knew that Elizabeth had likely found his Dad already and would be back to let him know of his state and whereabouts. How long that would take however...was a mystery.

Michael groaned and wrapped his arms around himself before pulling the blanket more onto himself. He felt really chilly in his bedroom. Did the heater break again?! God, he hoped not. Michael groaned and got himself up to check his room heater. But he quickly yelped and covered his body when he realized he wasn’t in his bed.

The man wasn’t even at home! He was on the side of the road!

No wonder he was freezing!

Jeremy quickly doubled his comforter and wrapped it around his half-naked body. Everyone knows that a man often sleeps in their underwear. But the fact that he was no longer in his house, made him really regret his decisions.

“Hello Michael.” A familiar voice said.

Michael let out a breath of relief. It was Elizabeth! Elizabeth was okay!

“Elizabeth! Thank goodness...Come out, I wanna see you!” Michael reacted gratefully.

But the bit of excitement that Michael had, immediately vaporized the moment he took a look at the animatronic. Circus baby looked completely unrecognizable! Like a completely separate person...This wasn’t the Elizabeth he grew to recognize...This was a stranger!

“Elizabeth...I…”

“A lot has happened since I left…” she said. “I can put myself together on my own now.” She showed Michael the hand that she replaced with a claw. “I have real hair now.” She showed him the orange wires and flicked them like any regular girl would flick their hair.

Michael nodded very hesitantly. He was still trying to get used to what she looked like.

“I brought you clothes.” Elizabeth told him as she handed him folded clothes.

“We should’ve gotten a sweater for him.” someone else said.

“His blanket will work just fine, Daddy.” Elizabeth replied.

Michael widened his eyes. His father is here too?!

The ruined bunny animatronic walked out of the shadows and revealed himself to Michael. When Michael saw Baby, she was completely unrecognizable. But his father...was somehow a little more recognizable in his much more ruined state. It probably helped that the bunny mask had rotted away so much that a lot more of his father’s skull was able to be seen better.

Michael took a few minutes to get dressed, and comprehend both his family members brand new appearances. It felt long. But eventually, Michael was dressed and wrapped in the blanket.

“Now Liz.” The bunny told her in a sour voice.

Suddenly, Michael felt his body being lifted up by the claw that had taken over her left hand. Elizabeth’s Baby eyes were glowing red while William’s icey silver eyes stared into Michael’s soul.

“aaAAH! WAIT! WHAT?! BUT ELIZABETH, I SAVED YOU!” Michael protested and begged.

“Did I catch you off guard?” Elizabeth asked. “Let's see how many pieces I can cut you into.” Elizabeth decided with a threatening voice. Her permanent smile made everything all the more terrifying and real.

That’s the part that scared Michael the most. “You’re gonna have to fight hard to make sure I die. But I KNOW you’re gonna make my death slow. I’ve seen your tricks before.” Michael spat.

The scrapped bunny readied his bone spear. “A little lower, Lizzy.” William told her.

As Scrap Baby lowered Michael down a little more, Scraptrap leaned his arm back to shove the spear into Michael’s chest or leg.

He was about to kill him slowly…

Right about then…

...Maybe now?...

Why the hesitation?

Michael refused to open his eyes. So, it was a huge shock to him when he felt the spear very slowly grazing his middle. Michael finally opened one eye and saw that the villainous expression on Scrap’s face had softened.

“...Daddy what are you doing?” Scrap Baby asked.

William smirked as he remembered something very interesting and…personal. “Sometimes one of the worst things a broken person can experience...is happiness.” The bunny spoke. Scraptrap wrapped his other hand around Michael’s hip points, and started digging.

Michael gasped and widened his eyes as a wobbly grin filled his face. Oh gosh...This couldn’t be happening. Was his long-time emotionless father…

Tickling him?!

Michael tried leaning the other way to get his hand off his hip. But William’s hand followed with it and continued digging and massaging. “Being tickled was never something I personally enjoyed…” Scrap Trap admitted as he paused his attack. “But I did grow to miss tickling others…”

Scrap trap used the pause to his advantage and cut the sharp edge of his own bone, right off his arm. With the end of his arm more like a pole rather than a spear now, the bunny used it to poke and prod at Michael’s side.

Michael had started snickering and struggling to keep his laughter in. “D-Dadstahap!” Michael started trying to push him away with his foot. But Baby grabbed onto his foot and stared at it intently.

Scrap Trap looked over at Baby, and smirked. He looked like he had just developed the greatest idea ever! Scrap Trap grabbed onto Michael, removing him from Baby’s grip, and wrapped the one arm around him. “I’ll hold him. It’s your turn, Liz.” Scrap Trap told her.

“Very well. I have his foot too.” Scrap Baby grabbed onto Michael’s foot like a headlock and started skittering her right hand fingers all over Michael’s foot.

Michael wheezed and wiggled around like crazy! “HEHEHEHEY! HAHAHAHA NAHAT THE FEEEHEHEEHEHEHEET!” Michael begged.

“Kitchy kitchy koo Michael~ A kitchy kitchy koo~” Baby teased. “This is fun, Daddy. Michael was always the one who tickled me. I rarely tickled Michael without getting tickles too.” she recalled from back when she was a human kid.

“Tickle him as much as you want, sweet Elizabeth.” Scraptrap told her. “I can tickle him effectively from here.”

Sure enough, Scrap Trap was tickling his upper ribs with the hand that was wrapped around him, while he poked his belly button with his left arm nub. Michael was wiggling around to get out of his grip, but it was like his father had developed super strength from his springlock accident!

“DAHAHAHAD! ELIHIHIHIZAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAP! IHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO MUHUHUHUHUHU!” Michael couldn’t even finish the last word due to all his laughing!

“Has Micky-wickey been too long without the tickles? Such a shame…” Scraptrap teased.

“Hey Daddy, do you remember how ticklish Michael’s ankles were?” Elizabeth asked.

OH NO...NOT THE ANKLE!

“BUHUHUT HOHOHOW?!” Michael asked. He couldn’t comprehend how the heck Elizabeth remembered that over 30-40 years of her possession! The only way he could really explain it, was that her memory was still quite intact after all these decades.

“30 years being possessed will give you lots of time to think and remember the good times…” Scrap Baby told him.

Michael soon wrapped his arms around the scrap animatronic’s arm that was holding him. Sensing something was up, Scraptrap stopped tickling him and wrapped his nubby arm around Michael as well. “I missed you. Not seeing you for 30 years made me grow to miss you.” Scraptrap told him.

Michael smiled a little as he comprehended that the same man that neglected him and abused him as a child, was actually treating him half decently. “I...I’ve missed you too, Dad.” Michael admitted.

“You missed me, old sport?” Scrap Trap asked.

Michael nodded and leaned his head back onto Scraptrap’s boney, but surprisingly comfy shoulder. Scrap Baby took this as a sign to maybe stop in order to keep this moment going. Scrap Baby lowered Michael’s foot down and reached her regular hand out to hold Michael’s. Michael reached out, and grabbed hold of Baby’s endoskeleton, human-like hand.

“Ballora was put back together…She is a little rusty from being scrapped.” Scrap Baby told him.

“Is it true that you based Ballora on Mom?” Michael asked.

Scrap Trap looked down a little and thought for a moment. “...Yes.” He replied. “Ballora’s design was inspired by your mother.” Scrap Trap told him.

Michael smiled. “What did she think?” Michael asked.

Scrap Trap looked at Elizabeth before looking back down. “...She didn’t appreciate it at first…”

Michael looked at Scrap Trap in surprise.

“However one day...I did see her dancing with Ballora...and imitating her dance moves...She looked so natural and graceful compared to Ballora. Ballora was built to be a strict ballerina...yet your mother didn’t follow the tense rules that belonged to ballet...she danced more gracefully and with more flow and beauty…” Scrap Trap explained.

Michael closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“I’m dying, Dad…” Michael admitted. “Ennard used me as a disguise to get out of the pizza world and wander the streets...I lasted a total of half an hour with Ennard inside me...But then…”

Michael looked down at his rotting self. “I threw him up...and somehow, I’m still alive…” Michael admitted. “I don’t understand...Why have I survived such a physically traumatic experience?” Michael asked.

“You have a power that most of the Aftons possess: Athanasia. Or rather...the ability to cheat death and prevail.” Scrap Trap said. “I possess it, your sister possesses it, Charlie possesses it...and now you possess it.” Scrap Trap moved some bangs out of Michael’s eyes with the boney nub, and returned to hugging him.

“Hm…” Michael looked down for a moment and over to Scrap Baby.

“Were you with Dad the whole time?” Michael asked Scrap Baby.

Scrap Baby nodded and rocked left and right like a child would. “Yes...I was.”

Michael looked at the sky as a sunrise started to form from afar. Michael watched the sunrise with wide eyes. “I...haven’t seen a sunrise in a long time.” Michael admitted.

Scrap Baby wrapped the comforter around Michael and hugged him from the side. “Me neither.”

“It’s beautiful.” Scrap Trap admitted. “We’re finally back together after all these years…” Scrap Trap told them. “I missed it.” Scrap Trap added.

Michael patted his shoulder and rubbed his back a bit. “Me too, father...Me too.”

A while after the sunrise, Michael and the scraps walked him back to the apartment. Michael gave his unusual family one last hug goodbye, and walked into the bedroom.

Michael grabbed onto his comforter tightly, and flopped onto the bed. He looked like a human burrito in his comforter. Michael took the time to sleep in and make up for the sleep that was taken from him as a sacrifice for ‘family time’.

2 hours later:

Michael’s phone started to ring from across the room. Michael groaned and covered his face with the blanket to shoo away any light that tried to peek through his comforter. The ringing went on for a couple more seconds, before stopping. Michael let out a sigh of relief and started to try and fall asleep again. But as he moved his foot around under the blankets, he felt a strong pain on his foot. He uncovered his foot and chuckled to himself as he looked at the massive bruise on the top of his foot. It was pretty much the size of his inner arch.

Michael covered his foot back up and started to fall asleep again…

BRRRRRRIIIING! BRRRRRIIIIIING!

Michael growled and got up to get the phone. He picked up his home phone and clicked the answer button. “Hello?” He asked, his voice still raspy.

“Michael, I have a plan to end the animatronic mess once and for all.” the person on the other line told him.

“Hm? Henry?” Michael clarified.

“Yes, it’s Henry. Only Henry would talk about animatronics, Mike.” The person said on the other line.

“I know. That’s how I guessed it was you.” Mike admitted.

Henry started to start off with an explanation. “Listen: I have been haunted for years by the animatronics. I want my daughter, your family, and those poor souls to be set free.” Henry told him.

“Right, right. So start explaining.” Michael encouraged.

“Okay. Here it is…”

[beelzebubisbestwaifu]

Could you do headcanons for what reminds the brothers of MC once she's left the Devildom? I love your characterisation of the brothers, especially Lucifer!

Awww thank you! I’m gonna add a little more angst with some things the boys have grown to hate since MC left. 

Lucifer: 

Any rose. He believes its the most accurate representation of MC: beautiful and delicate but with a vicious edge which can strike back. The danger kinda excites him.

The crackle of a record when it’s done playing the tracks. 

The smell of their hair which doesn’t match any perfume or cologne in the Devildom.

The size of his bed is unbearable now. MC spent one night there and now it’s way too empty without them. 

Silence. Typically such quiet would make him happy, but without the voice of his beloved the silence is suffocating. 

Mammon: 

Sure, messing around and trolling people is still fun, but being a general nuisance isn’t the same without MC around. 

Pale pink and gold are his most fondest colors. Pink since it’s what he feels when he thinks of MC and gold because MC is the only one who means more to him than Goldie. 

He spends tons of time in MC’s old room, but it hurts to do so since he’s just waiting for them to come back. 

The smell of their blankets are now his favorite. When he’s sad he goes in there to just...breathe in the niceness. 

Birds chirping, it reminds him of MC’s laugh.

Leviathan: 

His multiplayer games that him and MC worked on together. Holding the cartridge in his hands makes him feel like he can do anything. 

The feelings of someone fixing his bangs, MC’s delicate hands would often adjust his hair when it became particularly unruly. 

He cant watch TSL without getting a little sad. His Henry is in another world and thats not very cash money. 

Body pillows do not equal the hugs of his favorite Normie. 

Bunnies. He has become obsessed with bunnies. All soft and sweet like his MC.

Satan:

The bookmarks MC left in his books are like little good luck charms, he doesn’t dare move them. 

Cats = MC in his eyes. His love for his feline friends has grown s o m u c h.

He tries his best to at least sort of get along with Lucifer, he knows that if he fights with his brothers it would make MC really sad. 

The sound of someone’s voice in the ground ever-so-softly. He’ll play a radio at low volume to mimic MC talking to him. 

Lilies, their sweet scent reminds him of MC. 

Asmodeus: 

He keeps a bottle of MC’s body spray in his room to sniff if he gets lonely. 

Hanging off of someone’s waist or shoulders, if he closes his eyes he can make himself believe it’s MC. 

The smell of nail polish, he used to fix his manicure with MC around. 

Sure, he’s still a lustful guy. That’s like his thing. But there was a certain intimacy to snuggling with MC that made him happy. Nobody gets that luxury, only MC. 

Asmo is a sucker for MC’s favorite flavor of lollipop. He keeps hundreds around to suck on when he gets real sad. 

Beelzebub

He still loves going to Hell’s Kitchen, but he makes sure to save MC’s usual seat. Seeing that spot makes him unreasonably happy. 

Sometimes he goes up to the attic and just sits there with his fingertips on his lips. He’ll just sit there and think of his kiss with MC for hours. 

Going to the kitchen has become a little saddening. To think that MC would be so close to him and he didn’t take the time to go into their room and be with them. 

Beel’s hugs are amazing, but it takes a special MC to be his little snugglebug. He’s been caught putting one of MC’s abandoned sweaters on a pillow so he can squeeze it. 

MC’s spot at the dining room table is treated like a shrine. Nobody dares question Beel. Someone once tried to stand up to Beel about it but Lucifer took Beelzebaby’s side and that was the end of discussion. 

Belphegor:

He printed out his text exchanges with MC and hung them by his bed. They mean the universes to him. 

He pets his own head when he cant sleep. Mc’s fingers used to be so soothing to him and it’s what he n e e d s to get to sleep.

MC’s bed is his temple. The only place he can get to sleep when the nightmares set in. 

The smell of mint and moisturizer. MC would be ready for bed and he’d insist on a goodnight hug. The smell of their bedtime routine makes him happy. 

Sometimes him and Beel will sit in the dark of their room and talk about MC. They will both then try to hide the fact that they’re about to cry. 

Diavolo: 

MC’s desk at school has a different person sitting there and it makes him upset. Walking in to see a face he doesn’t love the way he loves MC is so hurtful. 

The warmth in Lucifer’s eyes when MC is brought up. He knows his best friend misses MC too and being able to share in their mutual sadness is comforting. 

He often visits the room MC stayed in during the retreat so he can think of the pillow fight. 

Actually, walking around the castle makes him think of MC and smile. 

Bed time is deafening. Laying in bed thinking of how he should’ve asked MC to stay is crushing. 

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Eyes Wide Shut (Henry x Reader)

Summary: AU. Working with an investigative journalist like Henry when you had a huge crush on him didn’t leave you with much free time for a social life. That is until you decide to visit a sex club and meet a masked handsome stranger who are more than willing to show you a good time.

Part 2: Undisclosed Desires | Part 3: Beautiful Problems

Author’s notes: I have no idea where this plot bunny came from, but I loved it and it turned into this huge one shot. I was vibing Eyes Wide Shut for the club (no idea why since I hate that movie) and it kinda worked for what I wanted.

Wordcount: 5666

Warnings: smut (powerplay; bondage; praise kink; orgasm denial).

What are you doing here?

A little voice inside your head asked as watched yourself in the impeccably clean surface of the club’s restroom mirror, your eyes looking wide and afraid, like a dear caught in headlights.

This isn’t you.

The voice continued and you had to take a pause and consider. This whole thing really wasn’t you. The elegant makeup with smoky eyes and dark red lipstick that you only ever wore for formal events; the slip dress that looked more like a camisole than an actual dress, but made you look so alluring in a way that you just weren’t used to.

You felt almost transported to another dimension or maybe having an out of body experience. It was the only thing that could make sense of what you were doing in a sex club when you were the very definition of vanilla. As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure if someone looked up the word in a dictionary, they would find a picture of you.

It just wasn’t your thing. Or at least that was what you always thought. You could never even understand why a person would want to get tied up and spanked during sex. It sounded so uncomfortable and crazy. You were perfectly fine with the traditional things, thank you very much.

You were absolutely sure this wasn’t for you. The only time you let your ex-boyfriend tried anything like it, you two used a blindfold and you ended up panicking and kicking in the balls, which killed mood obviously.

Yet, here you were. Curiosity got the better out of you when your best friend gifted you an invite for your twenty-third birthday. She said it had been a revealing experience for her and that you should try it, especially since she was probably the only person you’ve ever confided about your terrible and inappropriate crush on your boss Henry.

It started when you met the man six months ago when you started working as his personal assistant. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be even if sometimes you felt more like a glorified secretary than an actual journalist, but you were learning the ropes with one youngest Pulitzer winners investigative journalists out there so it was worth it.

Besides, Henry was such a great guy that you almost didn’t mind picking up his coffee every morning, because he actually took the time to teach and give you tips. He even let you co-write a couple of less important pieces for the magazine. The only thing he didn’t allow you to do was to come with him when meeting sources. He always said you had to cultivate your own.

That was actually one of the reasons you were here. Not that you thought you would be cultivating many sources in a sex clubs, but because Henry just took off tonight after receiving a text when you two were supposed to be working on his last big story.

He didn’t give you any explanation or justification. Just picked up his things, sending you a quick goodbye over his shoulder before he took off, leaving you alone in the office on a Friday night.  

It was at that moment that you realized how pathetic you were being, pining over your boss who didn’t even notice you and having absolutely no personal life. So, you went home, got dressed and now here you were, inside the club, but hiding in the restroom, not exactly regretting your choice but without knowing how to go forward with it either.

The place was nothing like you expected. You were thinking chains and whips and a whole lot of leather. Instead, it was posh and elegant, everyone dressed in fashionable outfits and wearing masks.

Yours was lying on the sink, looking quite inconspicuous just like the blue bracelet sitting next to it. Ant that was the real reason for your little meltdown. You had already been on edge all the way to the club, but walking in and being asked by the hostess if you were a dom, sub or a switch, made you cheeks scarlet, locked the breath in your throat, and nothing but confusing words spluttered from your mouth.

She had been very kind and understanding, saying it was perfectly fine not knowing and offered you a blue bracelet so you could give it a try being a sub first to see how you would feel. You took it because you had no idea what else to do before scurrying to the restroom where you had been hiding for the last fifteen minutes, trying to work up the courage to actually step into the club and talk to people and see what would happen.

Wasn’t that what Henry always said? Make friends wherever you go; pay attention to everything. You never know when you’re gonna need that tiny bit of information that person let it slip after a drink too much.

Taking yet another deep, calming breath, you brushed off inexistent lint from your dress, adjusting them hem once more, before putting the mask back on and stepping outside. You were going to do this. You came all the way here, might as well have a drink and take a look.

You stepped through the thick, velvet curtains that separated the small reception from the actual club, immediately having your senses overwhelmed by different stimuli. The first thing that you noticed was the soft scent of incense that enveloped the place. It was something slightly familiar, but you couldn’t quite make out its name. Next was the music. You don’t know why you were expecting some kind of heavy metal to be playing but instead, soft jazz worked a background noise.

Then your eyes adjusted to the change of lighting since the main area of the club itself was slightly darker than the reception and you could see people lounging around and tables and couches, talking and laughing, enjoying elegant cocktails, all in masks, all completely ignoring your presence.

For a moment, you stood still, trying to gain your bearings before you finally moved to the bar with slow, hesitant steps, eyes still darting around like part of you expected some old acquaintance to pop up from a corner ready to report your visit to your overly religious grandma. It was ridiculous and you knew, but you couldn’t always help yourself.

Taking a seat on one of the high stools, you ordered a drink and once again turned your focus to the club. If it wasn’t the masks, the place would feel exactly like most high-end nightclubs you had seen, and the thought soothed your nerves a little. What you were expecting? People having sex in front of everyone else? You chuckled at your own silliness, turning back to the bar when the bartender brought over your order.

As you sipped your drink, the stool next to you became occupied by a tall, handsome stranger who ordered a whiskey, before turning his gaze towards you, his bright blue eyes framed by the black mask made your breath catch in your throat and your cheeks to go red as you quickly looked away.

“First time?” his voice was deep and smooth with a hint of an accent that couldn’t quite place because he was obviously working on disguising it.

“That obvious?” you asked with a nervous chuckle, glancing his way. His dark hair was neatly combed, but a couple of stubborn curls made themselves known and for some reason, you felt itchy to smooth them back in place.

“A little,” he replied with a soft smile, taking a sip of his whiskey and as the cuff of his grey blazer pulled back with the motion, you saw the red bracelet on his wrist. “We’re all nervous on your first visit, but this is a great place to… explore.”

All you managed was a small hum of understanding, shifting your attention back to your drink, swirling your straw because you didn’t know what to do or think. Was he just making small talk? Was he hinting something? If this was a regular club you’d know, but here the rules were different.

“You come here often?” you asked and rolled your eyes at yourself, at your awful small talk. “Sorry, that was terrible.”

“It’s fine,” he assured with a gorgeous smile as he leaned against the bar, looking at you. “Only when I have a date,” he said, glancing at his watch, before letting out a sigh. “But after 40 minutes one must recognize when they’ve been stood up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small, sympathetic smile. Even if he was wearing a mask, you could tell he was a handsome man and you couldn’t understand who would stand him up.  

“And how about you? What brings you here?”

“Curiosity. A friend of mine gave me an invite,” you admitted in a low voice as you surveyed the room once more. “It’s not what I was expecting.”

“Not enough chains and whips?” he asked in a teasing tone and strangely enough it didn’t embarrass you. You chuckled in response.  

“Something like that.”

“They keep those in the private suites,” he explained, finishing his drink. “Would you like to see one?” You stared at him with wide eyes at the offer. “Don’t worry. You can just take a look. No need to stay.”

You took a moment to consider his offer. Were you really going into a dark room with a complete stranger? Were you crazy? Still, you were curious to see what it looked like and he didn’t seem dangerous. Even if he was tall and built like a brick wall.

You should be more afraid of this; instead, you were just excited about the prospect. Adrenaline rushed through your veins; your heart beat wildly in your chest. You licked your lips and met his eyes, trying to gauge if he might be a crazy psycho underneath the suave demeanor.

“Alright,” you finally declared, swallowing the rest of your drink in one go, the alcohol burning down your throat.

This is crazy.

That same voice in your head cautioned, but you ignored it. You came all the way here, the least you could do was take a look. And if he turned out to be a creep, you could always scream. There were plenty of security guards standing inconspicuously around the room.

Taking the arm he offered you, you let him guide you through the maze of tables and couches to the back of the club, where another red velvet curtain covered a passageway. He pushed it aside, letting you step in first, before following behind, one large hand on the small of your back as the two of you crossed the corridor full of doors. He led you to one of the last doors on the left, pulling it open for you and letting you step in first.

It looked like a regular hotel room, with a big bed in the center, a small sitting area to the side with black credence where a small bar sat. At the foot of the bed there was a large wooden chest the looked almost ominous and stood out against the rest of the décor. Same with the two large and shiny hooks hanging from the ceiling.

“Kind of anticlimactic, huh?” he commented, attracting your attention and you noticed he stood to the side, letting the door wide open.

“A bit, yes,” you agreed, looking around again. Were you really about to do what you were thinking about doing it? “Aren’t you going to close the door?”

Apparently yes.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice a little shaky as you looked at him.

He watched you as if to make sure you really meant it, before slowly closing the door behind himself and stepping further into the room. He shrugged off his blazer and set it on the couch’s arm, letting you see a little more of him.

He had such broad shoulders that stretched his black dress shirt in just the right way. The first two buttons of the shirt were open, revealing just a bit of his strong chest and dark hair. Even though you were never much interested in hairy guys, the sight of it was very appealing.

Swallowing the lump of nervousness, you moved to the bar and poured a generous amount of whiskey in two crystal tumblers, offering him one before consuming yours in one go, wincing at the way it burned your throat. You weren’t a big fan of hard liquor like this but you needed some liquid courage if you were really going forward with this.

You reached for the bottle again, ready to pour yourself another shot when he laid a heavy, but surprising soothing hand on your wrist, making you pause.

“I’m not doing this if you’re drunk,” he warned, his blue eyes meeting yours.

Gently prying your fingers away from the bottle, he held your hand and led you to the couch, taking a seat on the armchair, leaving a considerable space between the two of you, but his whole body was tilted towards yours and you could feel his gaze, heavy and intense over you.

“So how this works?” you asked, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “How do I call you? I don’t know your name.”

“We don’t usually use names here,” he explained, his lips tilting in a small smile. “How do you want to call me?”

You paused for a second, looking him from head to toe. There was a word on the tip of your tongue. Something you only ever used with Henry, but it seemed fitting for this. For him.

“Boss,” you finally breathed out and his eyes widened slightly as he licked his lips and shifted in his seat. That was how you knew it affected him. That he liked and you had to smile. It was rewarding to see him not so composed for once. “Is that ok?”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice a little huskier than before. “Perfectly fine.” He took a sip of his whiskey before setting the tumbler on the table. “Do you know what you’re interested in trying?”

You had no idea where to begin. You were curious of course, but the thought of actually doing anything was still stunning you.

“How about what you don’t want to try at all?” he asked, probably picking up on your hesitation.

“No pain,” you hurried to say. It was one of the things you were absolutely sure of it. “Or sharp objects.”

“They don’t allow those here,” he assured leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “And I’m not interested in that either. Anything else?”

You thought back on what you knew about this sort of thing, which granted wasn’t much, but it should give you at least a direction on what you wanted and how.

“No spanking,” you declared after another moment and you saw him still, glass to his lips. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he replied, draining his drink. “But when done right, it can be quite pleasurable.” His statement made you pause in consideration. “A conversation for another time, perhaps?”

“What makes you think there’s gonna be another time?” you challenged, eyebrow arched, and he grinned.

“I just have a feeling.”

The two of you talked for a while longer, discussing your limits, negotiating a few points, setting up safe words and gestures and slowly you began to relax a little more, feel more comfortable with him and with what you were planning to do. Despite being a complete stranger, you felt a certain familiarity with him, which definitely helped with your nerves.

“So, when do we start?” you finally asked.

“Are you sure?” he asked giving a long, piercing look and you just nodded, swallowing hard at the intensity of those blue eyes. “Then come here.”

You stood up feeling your knees wobbly; your heart hammering against your chest. You were really doing this. You must have lost your mind.

He looked you up from head to toe, his gaze hungry as he leaned back on his chair, legs spread and you couldn’t help but glance down at his lap, at the prominent bulge on his pants, wondering what it looked like. What it would feel like.

He offered you a hand, guiding you onto his lap, straddling one his strong thighs and the pressure against your center made you whimper, which you quickly silenced by pressing your lips together, giving him a shy glance.

“Don’t do that,” he asked. Well no. It was a command. His voice turning lower and harder and it set your nerves on fire. “I want to hear you. Every little moan, whine and cry,” he said against your ear and you shuddered, excitement coursing through your veins and heightening your senses.

“Sorry.”

“Try that again,” he said, one finger on your chin, giving you a hard stare and once again you swallowed hard as you lowered your gaze.

“I’m sorry, boss.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, and the words seemed to go straight to your core, making you gasp and shift on his leg, rubbing yourself against him. He smirked. “You liked it when praise you, baby?”

Your voice was once again locked in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, just nod and wonder if you have ever been this aroused this quickly before.

“Well, all you have to do is be a good girl and behave for me and you’ll hear a lot of it,” he said, one hand holding your hips still since you’ve been rocking against his thigh without noticing. “But if you disobey me, I’ll have to punish you and neither of us wants that.”

“No, boss.” You shook your head quickly and he smiled once again. You were getting addicted to it. It was gorgeous and made your knees weak. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

“Good. Then stay still,” he ordered, pushing your hair to one side, exposing your neck and shoulder. “And let me hear you.”

His lips brushed against your neck, right below your ear and you shuddered, your hands fisting his shirt as he explored your skin with his mouth, soft, wet kisses all over neck and shoulder. His tongue and teeth teasing you; finding every sensitive spot that made you shudder and moan as heat pooled between your legs.

He held the thin straps of your dress between his fingers, giving you a quick look, seeking permission. You just nodded already missing his mouth as he pushed them down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze and even hungrier lips. He kissed and nipped and licked every inch of the skin of your breasts before flickering his tongue over your nipple and making you buckle.

“Stay still, baby,” he asked once again, tilting his head to look up at you. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to tie you.”

The prospect shouldn’t be that arousing. As a matter of fact, before you walked in here, you never considered bondage as an option, but here you were aching for it.

“Sorry, boss,” you said, your voice low and desperate and you leaned back, giving him more room to explore.

He noticed, of course, his smirk growing as his mouth returned to you; his lips closing around a nipple, sucking and licking it while he teased the other with his rough thumb. You struggled to keep yourself still as pleasure built inside you, your walls clenching around nothing, your clit throbbing, begging to be touched in anyway.

“Oh fuck!” you whined, one hand coming to his hair, taking a handful of his curls and he let out a grunt that sounded almost like a warning. “Please, boss. I need…”

“What, darling?” he looked up again, pressing one final kiss to your left breast before his lips moved to the right one. “What do you need?”

Embarrassment made the words die in your lips. You had never begged for it before. Actually, most of the time you had to ask guys to slow down and there he was, taking his sweet time and driving you crazy in the process.

“Can’t say it?” he asked with a smirk. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”

He returned to his task, driving you crazy with his mouth; his fingers drawing lazy patterns on the inside of your thighs, touch featherlight and just increasing the temptation because all you wanted was for his fingers to move higher, touch you where you needed him the most.

As he bunched your skirt around your waist, exposing your white lace lingerie, you thought you’d finally have him. Finally, get some sweet release. Especially with the way, his digits ran over the edge of your panties, so, so close, but they moved away again, and he chuckled at the little whine you let out.

All your senses seemed to be in haywire from pleasure; your head was foggy and dazed; expectation made you follow every single one of his movements, desperate to feel him; to know which pleasure spot he would shower with attention this time around.

Goosebumps raised on your skin and you could feel perspiration starting to form as your body’s temperature rose along with your arousal. It made your mask stick to your forehead almost uncomfortably and you wanted to rip it off your face.

He pulled back once more making you whimpered at the loss of his lips and he chuckled once again, giving you a look.

“You know what you have to do,” he said nudging you to stand up and pulling the dress from your body, throwing to the side before his eyes shifted back to you, devouring your body. “Come.”

Taking your hand, he led you to bed and gestured to you make yourself comfortable while he slowly undressed before you, unbuttoning his shirts so slowly, revealing tantalizing skin inch by inch. You couldn’t take your eyes away, your breath coming in short pants. He was unbelievably gorgeous; built like a Greek God.

He let the shirt fall to the ground, before kicking his shoes and socks and finally undoing his belt and pants, pushing them down and off. You bit your lips in expectation, desperately to see him fully naked as his thumbs hooked over the edge of his black boxers. You could see the shape of his cock pressing against the fabric and all you wanted was to see it fully, have it on your hands; in your mouth; inside you.

“Are you ready to tell me what you want?” he asked and once again the words wouldn’t come. “Then maybe I should leave these on,” he declared, taking his hands away and you whimpered and pouted as he chuckled and crawled on top of you.

For the first time that night his lips found yours, kissing you softly; tongue exploring your mouth, tangling with yours as he settled between your legs, holding most of his weight on his elbows.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, voice husky and throaty, mouthing the line of your jaw, making you arch your neck, giving him more room. “Just ask for it. We both want it. You don’t get to come until you ask me for it.”

All you managed in reply was a desperate little whine as once again his lips traveled down your body, setting it ablaze with arousal and want and you were so soaked your panties were starting to get uncomfortable. It was a relief when he finally pulled them off you before he spread your knees and just looked at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said before kissing your inner thigh, coming dangerously close to your cunt, but never quite there.

You were shaking with desire, one hand fisting the sheets, the other gripped his hair, tugging him to where you wanted him, but he pulled away, making a disappointed sound on the back of his throat.

“What did I tell you?” he asked with a smirk as he got up and moved to the wooden chest. Your heart thundered in your chest as he pulled it open and taking out a long strip of black silky rope. “Keep still or I’ll have to tie you.” You eyed the rope nervously, chewing on your bottom lip. “Do you wanna use your safeword?”

“No, boss,” you replied after a long moment. You wanted this. Every inch of your body begged for it. “No safeword.” You raised your arms above your head, hands coming to the headboard.

“Good girl,” he praised again with a smile; delft fingers tying your wrists together before his attention came back to you. “Ok?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good.” He kissed you again; an obvious reward for accepting your fate so easily.

You should be terrified. He was a complete stranger and he could do whatever he wanted to you. You were at his mercy with only his promise to stop if it got too much. This was dangerous and you should be panicking, but all you felt was excitement and arousal. You wanted this more than you wanted anything else in the bedroom before.

“Boss?” you called, voice soft, hesitant and he looked at you, his eyes curious, full of expectation.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me, please.” You could feel your cheeks burning and you couldn’t hold his gaze. Here you were, stripped naked and tied to a bed, but it was those words that made you blush.

“Of course, baby,” he said, kissing you again. Yet another reward and you took it desperately, wanting everything he was willing to give you. “You’ve been such a good girl. You deserve it.”

This time, when he moved down your body, kissing and nipping and licking, making anticipation build deep inside you, making that wet heat coil tight in your lower belly, you knew you would finally have some release.

At the first touch of his tongue against your folds, you buckled your hips, a dragged-out moan came out of your mouth as you gripped the headboard. He held you still with one hand, licking and tasting and teasing you, before he sucked your clit between his lips and you cried out, your body quaking with need and he barely did anything.

“Please, boss,” you begged in a whine.

“Not yet. We’ve only just begun,” he replied, mouth returning to work.

He alternated flickering his tongue against your clit, with sucking kisses that left you moaning and shaking, your wetness slicking your thighs as you tried to roll your hips closer, trying to ease some of the maddening pleasure inside you that made your cunt clench around nothing.

“Oh please, please,” you begged again, desperate and needy.

He finally pushed one thick finger inside you, and you cried out as he immediately found that spot inside you that made you see stars; rubbing it over and over it until you were gasping and panting, babbling pleas and promises to be such a good girl for him if he would only let you come.

Finally, you felt his finger moving and you thought he would give you the release your craved for. Instead, he pulled out completely and you let out a loud keening whine, tears gathering on the corner of your eyes from need and frustration.

“Shush now, baby,” he cooed, petting your hair gently and kissing your forehead. “We’re almost there. Can you hang on a little longer for me?”

“Yes, boss.” Your voice was weak, shaky. You were panting like you ran a marathon and you had never felt this high-strung before, but the thought of saying no to him was the farthest thing from your mind.

“Such a good girl for me,” he said with a smile, finally taking off his boxers and freeing his cock, giving you a moment to admire it.

You had a feeling he was big, but it was even better than you imagined, and you wanted in your mouth. Desperately.  

“Not tonight,” he replied, and you realized you said it aloud, your mind too foggy to stop your thoughts from coming to your mouth. “But I want that too.”

You watched as he reached into the bedside table, picking up a condom and rolling it on himself, stroking his cock a couple of times, grunting low in his throat and you whined again because you wanted to do that. You want to touch him. Feel him.

His large hands took hold of your legs, bringing them to his shoulders as he knelt before you, lining himself with your entrance, his head teasing your slit and making you throw your head back and groan.

“Is this what you want, baby?”

“Yes!” you all but screamed, trying to move, but this position left you with very little leverage. “Yes! Please! I want it! Please, boss.”

He grinned at you and finally pushed inside and this time you shouted, the pleasure almost too overwhelming with the way he filled and stretched you, rubbing at all the right spots. He bent closer, catching your lips in a dirty kiss while you acclimated to the intrusion, his thumb working magic on your clit and you didn’t know how it was possible for you to be this close already. Then again, you had been teetering the edge of it for so long with his teasing that it really only took a nudge now.

“Ready?” he asked against your lips and all you could manage of a nod.

He finally started to move, pulling all the way out before pushing inside again, slow and steady, letting you adjust to him, before speeding up his thrusts as he increased pressure on your clit and laved your neck and chest with bite and kisses, sucking on the spot just below your ear that had you weak and struggle against your retrains as your first orgasm washed over you, making you gasp and shake.

He fucked you through it, a smug grin making its way into his lips as your body quaked and quivered, his movements getting that tension deep inside you to start to build up again. It was so overwhelming you couldn’t think, you couldn’t focus on anything except beg incoherently for it. A flow of confused pleas spilling from your lips as he fucked you, his pace increasing, his hips slapping against you, filling the room with the sound of skin hitting wetly against skin, and your moans.

“Look at me, baby,” he asked in between pants, his thumb brushing against the edge of your mask. “I’m gonna take this off. This time I wanna look at you when you come.”

You nodded, too far gone to care. You could only focus on yourself and how close you were again. You barely felt him sneaking one hand behind your head, undoing to knot that held the mask in place, before pulling it off.

“Fuck!” he whispered, his blue eyes widening behind his own mask as he looked at you. You saw something changing in him seconds before his mouth crashed on yours and you could almost taste his own desperation and he fucked you with abandon, his thumb swirling your clit. “Come for me, baby.”

His words snapped something inside you, making pleasure crash over you again and your entire body felt alight as you came, crying out a name you shouldn’t be saying here.

“HENRY!” you shouted, body shaking and trembling, walls tightening around him and he moaned your name against your neck, thrusting through his own release.

You two lied there, sweaty, tired and out of breath, bodies pressed together as your heartrates returned to normal along with your breathing and your ability to think.

Two things registered on your mind then: you shouted out your boss’ name when you came. And this man who was supposed to be a stranger called out yours.

“You know my name,” you declared, fighting off the haze of pleasure so you could focus on him. “How do you know my name?”

You felt him sighing heavily against your neck before he raised himself and looked at you. Without saying a word, he untied you, rubbing your wrists soothingly.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, helping you sit up. You shook your head, still watching him with a frown.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know,” he said, once again sighing. “I promised I didn’t know. Not until your mask was off.”

Before you could ask him what he was talking about, he took off his own mask and you stared stunned and mortified because it was him. It was Henry.

The man you’ve been fantasizing about for half a year. The reason you wanted to call the supposed stranger boss in the first place. The man you called out the name when you came.

“Fuck!” you whispered, all the afterglow from the mind-blowing orgasms you just had completely forgotten. You just wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole.

“Look, I know. Of all the places in the world…” Henry let out a small, humorless chuckle. “I didn’t even know you saw me like that.”

He tried to move closer to you, but the motion made him aware of the mess he was about to make on the bed with the condom coming off from his now softening cock.

“Give me a sec and we’ll talk about this, ok?”

You waited until he was inside the bathroom to jump off the bed, pulling on your dress and all but running out of the room, putting on your heels as you went. You couldn’t stay. You couldn’t even look at him. Talk about this? It was unthinkable. You just needed to get as far away from Henry; as far away from this damned place as you could.

You should’ve listened to yourself. You knew this wouldn’t end up well. Were you really surprised it turned into this train wreck?

xxx

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[revvnant]

this is a wip of a tma-style statement, it needs a lot of cleaning up and it’s not actually done but it is rather long and i did say i’d post it. extreme cw for: bullying, abuse, unreality, gore, psychological horror

"I like to think that the first four years of my life were rather good. A loving mother. A loving father. Good health, a family with a relatively stable income, plenty of opportunities to explore and learn... you might even call it a charmed life. And I know that it's a bit hypocritical, to say all of this and then to complain immediately -- and I know that it's petty, maybe pettier than anything else, and more typical than anything else, to say that a baby ruined my life. But it did. And then a second one ruined it again.

"Let me say for the record that it wasn't their fault. It wasn't their fault that my parents should have gotten a divorce, it wasn't their fault that my father's business was just getting off the ground and he had to be away far more than he was here, and it wasn't their fault that my mother had issues of her own, and was too stressed to take care of them. It wasn't their fault that we only looked good in Christmas albums, and it wasn't their fault that we lived so close to the Emilies, and saw them every day, and that Henry Emily and his wife somehow always seemed to have time for their kids when my parents didn't. And Hell, maybe even that's an assumption on my part. Maybe Sammy and Charlie were in the same boat as us, behind closed doors. I wouldn't have known. If they were, they weren't in it long. And neither were Evan and Elizabeth.

"I told myself all this in the beginning. I was actually kind of proud of it. Four, then eight, and I felt like the head of the household. It felt good to be called 'little man', to be told they were my responsibility. It was fulfilling to bring them to and from the bathroom, and to help them with their homework. Even by the time I was eleven, my homework was easy. The work that mattered, anyways -- the math, the science, it came quickly to me. I thought I was so capable, at first. And Mum was still around, so it didn't matter when I slipped up. Sure, they'd get angry, they'd ask me what I was thinking or why I hadn't remembered to feed Liz or to pick Evan up from school, but... that didn't really matter to me. I was a kid. I was interested in dinosaurs, and astronauts, and Freddy's. More than anything, I was interested in Freddy's.

"We went there all the time, because Dad owned it, and Mr. Emiily was his partner, and they had made the most amazing walking, talking stuffed animals I had ever seen. When I learned what an animatronic was, and that I could make one, I was even more excited. I couldn't help but think that they were for me. Why wouldn't they be? They were made in my house, by my Dad. They were my bunny, they became my brother's bear, my sister's fox and dolls. How could I not feel a little possessive? A little-- it would have been okay if it was a little. If it hadn't gone to my head. Because I wanted to make them, and I wanted to be like the person who made them. When he shouted, I shouted. When he threw things, I threw things. I know that he didn't do it where I could see. And I know he didn't know that I was still watching from the stairs, or the crack in the door. My parents solved their problems by getting into fights, so I solved my problems by getting into fights, and that made them fight more.

"At first it was okay. And then they started fighting with me. I didn't get it. I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. And then I realized Mum wasn't looking at me the same way anymore. Not the way she looked at Evan, and Beth. Her eyes would always slide away from me. Like she couldn't stand to see me. I knew I was causing problems, but I didn't really get what it meant. I didn't get why it had to be a big deal if I hit someone on the playground, or kicked my teacher, or said a 'bad word' in class. They did it all the time. They did it to each other and they did it to me. And I did it back. And my father threw something at me.

"I don't know why she didn't just take us out of there. And I don't know why she never cared when I cried. She would run straight to Evan when he planted his butt on the carpet and turned on the faucets, but me? Get up, Michael. Set a good example. I wasn't a very good example. But I tried to be. And I sort of got where they were coming from. It felt good to make Evan cry. When I was upset, when English was too hard, when I didn't want to make them dinner or drag them kicking and screaming to the bathtub, I could just yell, and they would melt down right there. The path of least resistance, or something. Better crying than kicking me. That's probably what my parents thought about me. 

"It felt... really good. I'm not going to lie. It felt good to push kids on the playground. It felt good to know I could steal shit from them and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. It felt good to know that Freddy's was my place, and anyone who came there couldn't mess with me or the people I liked. I chose three of them, to round us out. A set of four, just like in the cartoons. We didn't like each other much, but we hung out, and that was what mattered. You could say we didn't talk about important things, but maybe trading cards and TV shows were the important things to us. What was I supposed to do? Tell them that I couldn't hang out because my stupid brother couldn't get through a worksheet without throwing a fit? Or that I had to stay home and fix my sister's dolls that she left in front of my room, and it was somehow my fault for breaking them when I stepped on them? Hell no. They weren't going to listen to me in there, so I made everyone else listen outside, and yeah, I did it with my fists, and yeah, it wasn't good, but it got results. It-- got results until it... didn't. Or... it did. Too much at once.

"I know I hurt him before. I know I pinched him, and kicked him, and slapped him, and pulled his hair. I know I did everything I could to get him to fight shit. I know I threw my food at him, and splashed him with water, and chucked shoes at him, because that's how we talked in my house. I know it was bad. I know he-- wouldn't have forgiven me for any of that, even as it stood. But I didn't have to take it that far. I didn't have to-- I knew not to. But I thought it would be funny. He was so scared of them. Of the animals. My real friends, and my only friends. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to make him cry more, because they'd set up this whole stupid party for him and he didn't even like it, and he didn't appreciate the fact that Dad still threw him parties, and didn't ask him to be grateful afterwards, and that sitting in front of the cake wasn't like being in a fucking electric chair because you knew he was watching your every move to make sure you knew that this came from him. No, he was crying. He was at the best place on earth, and the best person on earth still loved him, and he was fucking miserable. So I-- I thought I'd give him something to cry about. Something that would make my friends laugh, and make them remember not to mess with me. Three birds with one stone. A really solid throw. 

"I... didn't mean to. I really didn't mean to. I didn't know it would do that. They all think I meant it. Dad, and Beth, and my friends, and Mister Emily, and the whole town think I meant it. They think I murdered him. I-- did murder him. But it wasn't on purpose. And nobody would believe me. And then it wasn't just a matter of wanting attention anymore. I would have given... anything, to go back to that. To go back to Dad throwing stuff at me or ignoring me. To go back to Mum... being alive, to be with me in the hours that she was home and could get out of bed with a migraine or stand to be around my father. To have Evan again, and treat him better. But I couldn't. And from that point on I was-- waiting for him to kill me. And I think we have to talk about my father, and Freddy's. 

"I had... a complicated relationship with my father. Like I said, it was good when I was very young. He would talk to me for hours, take me everywhere with him, though part of me thinks that had more to do with his schedule than wanting to spend the time with me. But still, given that even that disappeared later, it was something. And like I said, as I grew older, he had his violent moments. I don't think he ever hit me directly. Mostly he yelled. Sometimes he threw things. Once he cut me across the face with the knife he was holding because I reached for something over his shoulder. To be fair to him, I gave as good as I got -- or as good as I could. He was bigger than me, very much so for the majority of my life. Heavier, stronger, mostly he could just push me or grab me and it was over. But I still tried. It felt like giving up not to fight back. After all, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong. I-- thought I hadn't done anything wrong. I mean, I know I got in trouble. But... I don't know. I had to do something. I was-- scared. 

"It just went on so long that at some point I thought, well, he's going to kill me someday. And I'm going to look like an asshole if I don't make it hard for him. So I did. Every day. Every time he threw something at me I was determined to throw it back. Every time he shouted I was determined to shout back. What was I going to do? Cry like Evan? He wasn't going to kill Evan. Crying wasn't going to make him feel bad for me. It never had. I could lie down and cry and he would stab me or smash my head in or whatever, and it'd be a really embarrassing death-- and I think you maybe understand why I wasn't talking about this with my gang in the junkyard. I don't think their parents wanted to kill them. Maybe sometimes, but they didn't act on it. He did. And I knew it was a matter of time before he succeeded.

"And then he killed my mother.

"I know it was him. I saw her go downstairs. She never came back up. But he did. I know they were fighting before that. I don't care that he cried. He could always do whatever the cameras wanted him to do, and he could make me do it too. All his stupid advertisements-- he said Henry was the personable one, and I guess that's true, but he was selling himself short. But I knew him, better than anyone. I saw him up close when he came upstairs. He knew something. He was hiding something. Her. Her body. I don't know where he put it. I mean-- I do now. Because I found it. But we'll get to that.

"So he had a body count. Which meant I was next. She may have hated me-- but I don't think she wanted me dead. And then... I had a body count too. And mine was public. Really public. And if I ever brought it up again, it was so easy for him to hit back that it just-- stopped having any weight. But I never forgot. I guess I just thought... we were the same.

"And we were alike in a lot of ways. It was more than just the face. His gift for math and machines, he gave that to me. It just came so easily. A wrench felt right in my hand. I could have tinkered for hours and been happy. Whenever he let me into the workshop, God, it was like a fantasy. I watched everything he did and tried to copy him, and then I started learning on my own. It was nice, to share that with him. I think he enjoyed when I was down there with him. We got along in there, because our minds just worked the same way. Oh. And the anger that was rotting away at him-- he gave that to me, too. 

"I know I said-- I fought back. I explained why I had to. Why I couldn't cry. Because he wouldn't care. But that doesn't mean I didn't... want him to care. I wanted him to care so bad, I-- I would've done anything. Anything... and after Evan, it was just... it was gone. I tried. We had good days, good weeks even. But there was no chance of him ever loving me again. I accepted that about as much as I accepted my death: I fought back. I tried to be sweet with him, tried to do everything he asked, thought maybe if I just rolled over for once, that would be the trick. I'd tried fighting and it hadn't gotten me anywhere. Maybe if I was nice, and did what he said... I don't know. I kept switching between one and the other, hoping to catch him, hoping it'd work and at some point we'd synch up. It never did. And I was so used to being angry, sometimes it still-- I didn't do a very good job. But I took care of Beth, I tried to show him that I'd changed. I tried to change. He didn't see it.

"I think... by that point... I was just sort of this amorphous thing that lived with him. I don't think he saw any of me, past a point. Maybe an annoyance. Someone to feed. Someone to... give jobs to. I was bad at keeping those. But I don't even think he registered me as a person enough to really be disappointed or embarrassed. Just a little bit, maybe? But not a lot. Unless we were in the workshop. Then he saw me. He called me smart, said I was his-- I was... 

"I worked at Freddy's for years because I had to. But I loved the animatronics, still. Even after all of that. And I loved how he looked at me when I figured them out. Like we were the only two in the whole world who knew those secrets. It was our place, and our time, and I just wanted to stay there, with him. Because he almost loved me, there. And I wasn't angry. 

"Then Beth died. I left her with him for one day-- fuck, I'd forgotten-- I'd been so busy trying to convince him to forgive me and let me back in that I'd forgotten he killed people. And he killed her. I didn't put the pieces together right away, I was so stupid. But he did. He killed her. He modified my designs and he used them to kill her. I guess he must have regretted it, decided he got the wrong kid, or did us in the wrong order. Or maybe she was just bait. I don't know. But he sent me down there, and they thought I was him. I told him everything that I saw in that place and he still told me to go and find her, and I did it, because I was an idiot. Honestly, just for being that stupid, I deserved what happened.

"They disappeared, one by one, night after night, these things that we had made together, the one that was my sister and the one that was my mother and crunched her bones when it spun on its stage. The fox, my fox, my bear, that he'd modified to lure them in and trap them, just like he had the others. I followed the trail of cables and breadcrumbs to the place they called the Scooping Room. It was her voice, you see. Hers, its, and then theirs. I didn't recognize them or realize the mistake that I had made until the arm of the Scooper had cracked open my skull and parted my stomach, and they pulled the intestines from my abdomen and strung them over the equipment like they were streamers, and it was a birthday party. Their birthday party. I died as they were born, as they took everything from me and then slipped me on like a suit. I felt the metal push and pull at my body that didn't fit them quite right, and they ground my skull down to make room for their own head, and they stretched my legs out past where they should have been, and they tore my throat and sewed it back together again with wires to fit all of their voice boxes and mine. And they spoke in my voice when we left that night. They'd left my eyes.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 54

I’m still upstairs when Daryl finds me. Standing at the window, staring at the digging of graves I have to wonder if they’re making extras. I can feel him watching me, even if he’s as silent as he’s ever been. I can sense that he has more questions than I care to answer. I know he’s hoping that I’m still the woman he fell in love with, the one who takes the pain from everyone, their guilt, their worries.

When I turn around, he’s leaning against the closed door. His hair’s too shaggy. He looks tired and dirty, but he looks like Daryl, too. The Daryl that I fell in love with, the man who I told Negan I would never forget. The mere thought of Negan causes me to flinch with the pain of losing him, and Daryl sees it, and moves forward.

“Please don’t.” My voice is quiet, rough from sobbing. “I know you want to ask me about it, Daryl, but can I have some time?” I can see the pain in his eyes from me stopping his progress toward me, the uncertainty at my request. “I’ll tell you, soon, I promise.” I just need time, I plead internally, time for it to not be so raw.

“Anything ya need, Jessi.” He answers, and my heart clenches. I’m going to break him apart when I tell him. I’m going to make the softness in his eyes for me turn hard. I’m going to see the look of betrayal flash. And I’m going to have to bear it all alone.

He leaves, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy and I slide down the wall beside the window to the floor. Why am I here? Why am I staying? For Judith, I remind myself. For my little sister, the only sibling I have left, the one I’d promised myself to keep innocent of the realities of our world for as long as possible. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall. I had to find strength in her. Otherwise, I’d fall to pieces and retreat into myself. She had to matter more than my grief. More than my pain. More than my heart shattering.

Maggie comes upstairs with Judith in her arms. I’m still against the wall, still lost in my own thoughts. Carl’s words swimming together with the last time I saw Negan. His promise to return to me morphing into Carl’s wish for peace and certainty that I was the key.

“Hey,” she’s quiet, and it reminds me of the wife that had greeted me at the Sanctuary. Wary, as though I’m a caged animal. I look up and see a tiny smile on her lips. “Thought you’d like to have her back.”

My arms reach up automatically and I smile when Judith practically leaps into them. Sitting her facing me, letting her play with my long braid, I memorize the changes that I hadn’t when Negan had given me the time with her in Alexandria. Her curls were getting so long. Her pout getting fuller. And those eyes. Dear Lord, she had Carl’s eyes.

“Never got a chance to thank you.” Maggie was still here, sitting cross legged across from me.

“Didn’t need to.” I answer, making a face at Judith to see if she’d laugh. She does and I feel a sliver of peace. “How’s the baby?” I remember the whole reason for her coming to Hilltop, the lack of their doctor, that I’m sure she’s still angry with Negan over.

“We’re good, Jessi.” I know she’s studying me. I know that she’s looking for changes in me. “Glenn’s alive because of you.” As though I need reminding. “Why did you-”

I glance up and see it. The question that is on every single one of their minds. Why did I offer my life? “I wanted to die, and I was too cowardly to do it myself.” She flinches, and I shrug. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.

“Do you know-” she starts and I know the second question on everyone’s minds. Why didn’t he kill me?

My eyes meet hers. “Why didn’t Negan kill me?” Her smile is gone. “He saw something that no one else did.” Another shrug from me, if I pretend it isn’t a big deal, perhaps she’ll spread the word and I won’t have to answer it again.

She leaves soon after. Alone with Judith, bouncing her slightly on my lap, I wait. I know that my visitors have only just begun. I tell my baby sister stories that I’d once told Carl. About bunnies and deer, about princesses, the thought of the word alone makes me flinch and I can hear Negan’s voice, and princes and castles. I tell her stories about Lori, about Dad, about Carl, and about BEFORE.

“Remember,” Dad’s voice cuts in as I’m telling her about Carl’s favorite game, “remember when the two of you fought over the hiding spot so loudly that the neighborhood kids found you before you even knew the counting was over?” I chuckle and glance up. “I’m sorry.” I have no idea what the apology is for, so I say nothing. “Jessi, I’m sorry that-” he closes his eyes, and I watch as he rubs his face with his hand and my heart lurches at the now familiar gesture. “It’s-”

“It’s fine.” I answer, hearing pain in my own voice. Pain that I’m not sure he can decide the source of, because I’m not sure he wants to know. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He’s moved to sit beside me, under the window. “You look better than-”

“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m better,” even if my heart is in tatters. “Weirdest therapist in the history of therapy, but I’m better.” I see a flash of Negan across from me on the sofa in his apartment, dimples peeking at me, eyes dark.

“You went to the Kingdom.” Carol told him, of course, or maybe Ezekiel. I don’t answer. “Why-”

Judith has grown tired and is cradled against my chest, and I feel her sucking on her fist. “I didn’t think I’d be very welcome in Alexandria.” My hand is on the back of Judith’s head, sliding through her curls with my fingers, soothing both of us.

“Jessi,” I can hear his pain, but I shake it off. I can’t, not anymore. “They didn’t-”

“Trust me?” My voice stays quiet, I will keep my promise to keep Judith safe. “Understand why?” I give a soft snort. “Yeah, I know.”

I hear him sigh. “You’re staying.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. And I nod.

When Dad leaves, I put Judith down on the bed in the room and lay beside her. Her tiny body, relaxed in sleep, is entirely precious to me. I watch as she makes a sucking motion with her mouth, and smile. I will die before she knows how cruel the world can be. Or I will prepare her so she won’t be broken by it, not like I was.

I fall asleep with her near me. I let my exhaustion take over, my hand on her stomach, the steady rise and fall of her breathing lulling me into a more peaceful rest than I’d had since the first time Negan and I made love.

The screams wake me up, Judith’s startled awake and is wailing. I pull her to me, and know, without a doubt that it’s begun. The infected have risen, and they have started to create the havoc that Simon was so gleeful about. I move toward the door, trying to soothe Judith’s screams, while trying to see if I can lock us in. I can hear it, as I get closer, the turning of the handle and I hope against hope that this isn’t the end.

Morning dawns and the carnage is extensive. One of the wounded was in the main house. A house that Judith and I were in, and he had attacked the people sleeping on the main floor. Another wounded had run rampant in the infirmary, and now the doctor and an assistant are dead as well. More graves, more fear.

I watch from the upstairs window as they dig. As the bodies of the dead are laid to rest. As more and more death surrounds us. We’d been lucky, Judith and I, the person who opened the bedroom door, had been friend and not unthinking monster. Not everyone was so lucky.

When I finally go downstairs, I learn that Tara has been wounded. I listen, leaning against the wall as she says she’s made peace with her fate. When Daryl sees me, I meet his gaze and I know what’s needed. Me and Pandora. Hope.

I hand Judith to him and take Tara for a walk. She looks slightly uncomfortable with me at first and I push that aside. I can’t deal with my own feelings about someone not knowing me or my motives, not when she seems so keen to die.

“Denise?” I start, and I see her flinch. I’m sure I do the same when Negan’s mentioned, or alluded to. “I know what that kind of loss makes a person think.” I can feel her eyes focus on me. “It makes you think about how sweet your reunion will be. Even if you’re not religious, even if you didn’t believe in the afterlife before, there’s that pull to join them.” We’re still walking, but I can tell her attention is focused on me. “Because even if there’s NOTHING after you leave this world, it has to be better than the pain.” I can hear it, lurking in the darkness of my own mind, the yearning to join him or it. “Tara?”

She’s stopped moving, standing beside me looking out of the gate. “Jessi?”

“Would she want you to give up?” I ask, as inside I’m asking myself the same question about Negan. About Carl. About Lori. “Would Denise think that this world would be better off if you were gone, even if it meant you’d be with her?” Would they? Would they want me to join them, or the darkness, or would they want me to fight?

Our eyes were focused on the landscape, but we were silent. I’d given Tara something to consider, and I’d given myself something to think about too.

When I make my way back to the main house, I see Daryl holding Judith on the porch and watching me. Climbing the steps, I open my arms and grin when she leaps toward me again. “She missed ya.” He’s still quiet and unsure with me. “We all did.”

I close my eyes, fighting the urge to remind him that I’m not blind. “I missed her too.” I leave it at that. I can’t. Not yet. “I think Tara heard me.” I offer, letting him know I did my part. “She’s got to make her own mind up, though.”

I can feel his eyes on me, but I’ve turned to look out over the community. “Ya were always good at it.” I nod. I know. “Maybe I shouldn’t of asked-”

I shake my head. “Everyone has a purpose, Daryl.” And I turn to the door and offer, “this is mine.” I walk inside, bouncing Judith and focusing on her again.

I learn later, after I’ve put Judith down for her nap, that Ezekiel’s adopted son Henry has run off. I learn that some of the prisoners have escaped. And I find out that Dad and Morgan have gone after the prisoners, while Carol has gone in search of Henry. Ezekiel, feeling that I should be given more information, tells me this as I lean against the banister of the porch.

“I’m used to it, you know?” I ask, as he stands beside me. “Them scattering without a glance back, without a goodbye.”

He’s nodding, but he tries to reassure me. “I’m sure they-”

“Don’t even think about the possibility that they could NOT come back?” I turn to face him. “With death lurking around every corner, do you think that’s a great strategy?” I watch him study me. “Has Dad told you about our mom?” I wonder how much my dad has told his allies about our past. His eyes tell me he hasn’t. “She died giving birth to Judith, in a prison that we took for sanctuary.” The word nearly chokes me. “She died, surrounded by dead walking around like puppets for blood and flesh, and Carl-” I swallow back the pain of his name. “He had to put her down. He was twelve.” I can see the discomfort on his face. “Dad NEVER got to say goodbye to her, Ezekiel. And he was tormented by it. He hallucinated her presence. He heard her voice on a silent phone. He nearly went insane from it.” I turned back to face out toward the domestic scene of people working to rebuild. “You’d think at least he would understand, wouldn’t you?”

[erin-bo-berin]

Faith (Part 2)

If you haven’t read part 1, called Hope, you can read it here

The final part to Hope is here! This is insanely long, the longest I’ve written yet. Not gonna lie I’m really glad I split it into two parts because all together it would’ve been nearly 13k words. Anyway, in this part you’re gonna get some Spencer POV, daddy Spencer (I might have gotten carried away with the cuteness, I apologize in advance) and some smut. Also I might’ve gotten carried away with that part as well, you’ve been warned. Quick fun fact: The Lonesome Bunny was an actual story I wrote in 5th grade that won in a competition. You’ll see that I’m referring to later on in the fic. Enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 8,407

Rated: M (Smut)

So much can happen in a week. 

Emily had gotten Spencer a great lawyer; one who happened to be a friend of hers. She reassured you that he was in good hands. Even that reassurance did nothing for the constant state of anxiety that twisted your stomach.

The next step was going to be his hearing. Rossi was already ready to post his bail and get him out of jail while he waited for his trial. The whole team had a moment to breathe, thinking that this next step would be a break in luck.

None of them saw what was coming. You, most of all.

After the shocking result of Spencer’s bail being denied, everyone had to face the fact that he was going to be sitting in a prison cell while awaiting trial. Emily and the rest of the team promised to work their hardest to get him out of there. You believed them, of course you did. But no one prepared you for how it would affect not only you, but your daughter as well.

“Daddy bye bye?” 

You ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth the loose curls before kissing her head.

“Daddy will be back soon.”

You weren’t sure if you were saying the words to comfort Abbie or yourself. Her wails and cries still rang in your ears, the haunting sound breaking your heart a little more each time you remembered them. She was too young to understand what was going on, but it was clear she knew something was wrong. You knew she could sense your stress, your despair.

She laid her head on your shoulder, eyes growing heavy. JJ had just gotten back from taking the boys and Abbie to see Diana. You passed on this initial trip, afraid your emotional state might upset her since she hadn’t any idea what had happened. Even though Diana didn’t understand what was going on in her own ways, you were glad the kids were able to lift her spirits.

Abbie whimpered, fighting sleep, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Hey, why don’t I take her and give you a little break?” Penelope said, reaching out to take her. 

“Besides I always love some auntie Penelope time,” she grins, rubbing your shoulder, concern showing on her face. “We’re going to get him out of there okay?”

You nod, giving a small smile. She’d given you a visiting schedule she’d made, listing the order of her, you and the team could visit him. You were up second after her because since she’d made the chart, she got to go first—her words. It gave you a small comfort to know you’d be able to see him soon.

•

“What do you mean I’m not on the approved visitor list?!” you exclaimed.

“Spencer made his list of visitors…” Emily trailed off, “And you weren’t on it.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” she said, clearly feeling as helpless as you currently felt.

“So what does he want me to do? Sit at home, take care of Abbie and twiddle my thumbs?!”

You knew this entire situation was crazy. Spencer was going through a lot, the team was going through a lot, but yet your anger came. The only reason it came was to mask the hurt you felt. It was like a punch to the gut when you realized he didn’t even want to see you. With no reason or explanation why. You could get past the personal hurt even if he just wanted you to visit to talk about Abbie. After all, you were only his co-parent. 

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Y/N. I can’t begin to imagine what’s going through his head right now.”

“I know, I know.” You rubbed your temples, the beginnings of a headache starting to pound behind your eyes.

“I just wish I could do something. At least you guys are able to work on his case to help and free him. I can’t even do that.”

You swallow, tears once again blurring your vision. You’d tried so hard not to cry in front of Abbie but now it was beginning to catch up to you.

“You’re doing something very important, Y/N.” Emily wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you mumbled into her shoulder.

She pulls away from you, holding you at arms length with her hands on your shoulders.

“Taking care of that little girl.” She points in the direction of her office window. You look out into the bullpen and Henry sitting at his mom’s desk with Abbie in his lap, both of them coloring.

“You’re taking the absolute best care of her until we can get Spencer out. I know it puts him at ease to know she isn’t alone.”

“How is he?” you asked, knowing she’d been to see him recently.

“Alright for now, he’s gotten some sleep. He was mainly concerned about Abbie and his mom. He didn’t say it, but I could tell her reaction just about broke him.”

“JJ said she cried herself to sleep,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to scoop your baby up and hold her, to protect her.

“How’s she doing now?”

“Okay, I suppose. She’s been really fussy and clingy ever since it happened, I’m surprised she’s gone to anyone here so well. At home, she won’t even let me out of her sight. She keeps asking about daddy, too.”

“She’s a tough girl. She gets that after both of you.” 

“I wish I felt as strong as you think I am.”

“MA MA!” You heard an excited shriek, all the way from the office.

“Yeah, she’s definitely Reid’s kid,” Emily commented.

You shake your head, exasperated, walking out of the office to head down to the bullpen.

“What baby?” you called, descending down the steps.

She’d gotten down from Henry’s lap and was toddling in your direction, a piece of paper in one hand, a crayon gripped in her other. 

“Ook!” She held out the paper in your direction and you took it, picking her up in the process.

“It’s beautiful, baby girl,” you smile, looking at the scribbles on the page.

“We’re making pictures for Uncle Spencer,” Henry said, looking up from his own picture.

“I told the kids that they could draw pictures and I’d take them to show him when I go to visit him,” JJ said, “I remember you said that she loves to color and I thought I could take hers as well.”

You smiled, “He’ll like that.”

Looking around at all the lengths his team was going to, to help him made you realize just how much of a family the group was. You could feel their love for him, their determination to work their asses off to free him.

Suddenly, it felt like things might actually turn out okay.

•

38 days.

He’d been keeping track of the days with notches in the wall.

He’d been in prison for 38 days. 

In that time Spencer had been jumped by a group of prisoners wanting to attack him since he was fresh meat. He was moved to a private cell. There he encountered even more problems. He was pressured to help move drugs within the prison which he time and time again refused to do. He befriended another prisoner in hopes of keeping him from being attacked only that effort resulted in him being beaten up instead.

The days were long and stretched out. He could feel his sanity slipping a bit more every day. Prison really was a place of desperation. The unthinkable happened inside these four walls. 

He missed the team so much. He missed his mom. He missed his little girl. He missed Y/N.

The last time Emily had been to visit him she’d told him only what he expected; Y/N was bewildered, hurt and angry at his decision. He hadn’t said much on the topic. He did what he had to do.

Today’s visitor was JJ. He hadn’t seen her for a few weeks. Apparently there was a whole schedule for visiting him. He was so happy to finally see a familiar face again. It had seemed like weeks since he’d seen any of his friends when in reality—by his makeshift calendar—it had only been 6 days.

“Hey, how are you?” JJ asked, concern brightening her eyes.

“Okay, I guess. Just trying to survive here,” Spencer said.

Her brows furrowed and he knew what was coming next.

“You’re hurt. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. Why aren’t you working on a case?”

“Actually I stayed behind so I could visit you,” she answered. 

“You shouldn’t have. You should’ve gone.”

“No. I should be here. You’re not alone in this Spence.”

He nodded, watching her through the glass that separated the two of them as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few papers.

“Henry drew this for you. See that’s you and that’s him. It’s from that day we went to the park.”

“Tell him it’s beautiful,” he could hear his own voice cracking, “Tell him I love it.”

JJ smiled, folding it again.

“I will.”

She opened another picture, showing scribbles, a heart and what appeared to be stick figures.

“Michael drew this one. He said he thought you needed lots of love while you were away on vacation and that he misses you.”

That brought a slight smile to his face. His youngest godson had quite the imagination and at only 3 had thought up that Spencer was away on vacation. His heart ached with how much he missed them. He watched JJ once again reach for another piece of paper.

“Another drawing?” He laughed dryly.

“I thought you might like to see this one too,” she said softly, “Abbie did this one for you.”

There was nothing but colorful scribbles on the page, the complete normal for an 18-month-old. But this was different because it was made by HIS 18-month-old. His little girl.

Of course he believed in his team that they’d get him out of here and catch Mr. Scratch—the asshole that put him here—but it was truly his baby girl that helped him go on. Abbie gave him faith. He had to have faith that he would get out of here and not give up. If he gave up, she might grow up without a father and he knew from firsthand experience that was the last thing he wanted for his child. 

“She’s very artistic.” He tried to laugh, but it came out more of a dry, raspy sound.

“That she is,” JJ smiled.

“How is she?” Spencer whispered.

“Abbie? Or Y/N.”

“You know I mean Abbie.”

“Spence...why don’t you just reconsider your decision. Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? She’s worried about you. She wants to see you too.”

“Jennifer. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But Spen-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it okay?” he snapped.

Her words died mid-sentence and she went quiet.

“I’m sorry JJ,” he ran his hands through his hair, then rubbed his eyes, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Have you been sleeping?” JJ’s concerned tone reappeared again. 

“Not much.”

“I’m worried about you. We all are. I know this hasn’t been easy on you at all.”

“I can’t even explain it fully, JJ. There’s a sort of helplessness in here that causes people to do things they normally wouldn’t do.”

She seemed to be a loss of words. He didn’t say it to scare her or cause her worry, it was just the truth.

The alarm sounded, signaling that visitation time was up.

“Spencer.”

He looked back at her as he stood to leave.

“Please be careful okay? Keep your head down, don’t attract any unwanted attention.”

He nodded in response. 

The hand of a security guard grabbed his arm, escorting him back to his cell. Every step took him back towards his own personal hell and away from the life he once so naively took advantage of.

•

Things didn't turn out okay. Bad news suddenly became the soup du jour.

Every time Emily or JJ, Rossi or Garcia gave you an update your outlook just became bleaker and bleaker. It was affecting everything in your life. 

You’d cut the number of the interior jobs you normally did in half, not having the motivation nor the time to complete them. Soon you ended up taking a leave of absence. Fortunately, with the past financial aid of Spencer, you could afford to leave work. Your mood was affecting Abbie more and more, her often crying and wanting her daddy. Most days you felt like crying along with her.

You hated being in the dark. Technically you did get updates about what was happening, but you hadn’t seen him in 3 months. That night at the BAU when he was brought home had been the last time you’d been in his presence. Your anger at him for refusing to see you had faded leaving you feeling drained. You could only imagine how the team felt when they were the one trying their hardest to find Mr. Scratch.

In the last month, Spencer had witnessed his friend die, potentially poisoned and killed some drug dealers—you didn’t ask for specifics on that one—been beaten up pretty badly and stabbed himself to get into protective custody. You had no idea how the hell he’d survived all of this, but he had.

Many of your days were spent at the BAU now. When the group wasn’t off working on other cases they were required to give their attention to, you were at Quantico. How different it was spending so much time in the unit in comparison to 3 years ago. Then, you couldn’t stay long enough. Now, all you wanted was to be anywhere else.

You were seated on the couch in Emily’s office, attempting to keep Abbie preoccupied with a few toys. That was about all you could do now was to keep her attention elsewhere before she became irreconcilable once again. 

You were making her favorite bunny plushie kiss her repeatedly causing her to giggle when the door busted open and in ran Penelope.

“Y/N, Y/N! We got him!”

You were so startled by the sudden entrance that you didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Who?”

“Mr. Scratch. He’s been caught and he confessed to everything. Framing Reid and all of it. Me and JJ are heading to the prison to get him. You’re coming with. Not a question, an order.”

You nod, dazed at the amount of information slung at you and picked up Abbie and her bunny, following behind the tech as fast as you could.

Twenty minutes later, you were waiting outside the prison with Garcia while JJ went to take care of all the legal proceedings that came with freeing Spencer.

You were just picking up Abbie’s bunny that she had purposely dropped on the ground when Garcia spoke.

“Hey, Abbie.”

She turned towards Garcia’s voice.

“Look over there sweet girl. Look who it is,” she pointed ahead.

Abbie looked over just in time to see JJ and Spencer coming out of the front doors. The moment she saw him, she was in action, trying to squirm out of your arms. 

You set her down and she went running as fast as her little legs could in his direction, her bunny still in her hand.

“DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!” She shrieked as she ran.

He scooped her up in one swift movement, hugging her close.

“I’ve missed my Abbie-bear.” 

He tapped her nose making her scrunch it in response. 

“How’s my baby girl?” he asked, pushing her hair back from her forehead and kissing her head.

She babbled in response, holding out her bunny to him, clearly happy to be in his arms again. He kissed the bunny’s nose, then Abbie’s. He did it again only this time playfully attacked her with kisses, making her squeal and giggle.

“Hey, you.” Penelope had gone over to hug him tight while you and JJ stood back.

“You know I always knew he would be a great father, but seeing it in action is even more heartwarming. He’s so great with her,” she said.

“He is,” you agreed.

“He cares about her a lot you know. But not only her.” 

JJ gave you a sidelong glance before going to join them, leaving you to puzzle out what her cryptic comment could mean.

•

The aftermath was hectic when you returned to the Bureau. With everyone hugging Spencer and talking to him about the details of Scratch’s capture, you naturally just fell towards the back of the flurry of activity. You noticed the entire time he didn’t let go of Abbie even though she was now sound asleep on his shoulder, her bunny positioned underneath one of her arms and his chest.

You thought you’d heard Rossi say he was going to get some champagne when Spencer finally approached you. Things had never been awkward for the two of you, but they sure felt it now.

“Hey.” 

He leaned against the desktop next to where you sat.

“Hey.”

“She’s out cold,” he motioned to Abbie with his head.

“I noticed. She missed her nap today and has been fighting sleep.”

“Poor thing.” He rubbed her back and she stirred slightly, repositioning herself before going back to sleep.

“So, I was actually wondering,” he began, “Would it be okay if I spent some time with her? I’ve just missed her so much. I feel like she’s gotten so big since I last saw her.”

“Sure. That’s fine. I can get you her diaper bag and some things if you want to keep her for the weekend.”

“Actually I meant like the three of us together. If you want to come to my place or...I just mean I feel like we have some things we need to talk about.”

“Well most of her things are at my place,” you said, purposely ignoring the last part of his comment, “So I guess that would be easier and you can spend as much time as you want with her. You know you’re always welcome to.”

“I’m not sure when or if I’ll be able to come back,” he said quietly, “A lot has happened.”

“Yeah. A lot has.”

You could feel the weight of the last months weighing heavily not just on him, but on you two. Things had worked so smoothly between you both up until this point that you couldn’t help but wonder if this would be too much strain. Some things you just can’t come back from.

Emily noticed the last time she’d visited, just how much prison had changed him. He was suffering from bad PTSS—post-traumatic stress syndrome. He was having nightmares, not sleeping, constantly battling the demons of what he’d had to face in those short months. Emily never said as much, but you knew how close he’d come to death by the hands of the inmates.

Everyone was mentally and emotionally exhausted. They’d all been granted six weeks off work to rest, Spencer especially. He’d have to see a therapist as well and retest before he could even be considered for reinstatement.

“Emily thought it would be best if I wasn’t alone for now.”

“That’d be wise,” you agreed.

 “She suggested I stay with you…” he trailed off nervously.

You were caught off guard and found yourself staring at him, most likely resembling a deer in headlights.

“I mean she just thought being around Abbie would help me a lot and you...”

You had no idea what he was going to say and unfortunately, he didn’t finish his sentence. You couldn’t possibly turn him away at a time like this, even if you desperately didn’t want to have to deal with your complicated feelings about him.

“Uh yeah. That’s fine. She’ll love having you around more.”

The two of you had never shared a living space for more than one night. There was no telling what the next six weeks would bring.

•

The first month was rough. Not only for him but for you as well.

Spencer would often wake in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares, resulting in waking Abbie. He felt so bad about it he’d often force you to go back to bed and sit up with Abbie until she fell asleep again.

One night, you’d been on the way back from the bathroom when you heard the soft rise and fall of his voice. Peeking into the nursery, you saw Spencer in the rocking chair with Abbie in his lap, a book opened in front of them.

When he turned the page, you caught a glimpse of the cover: The Lonesome Bunny, one of Abbie’s favorite books.

“The little bunny was so sad before,” Spencer frowned, pointing to a picture on the page.

Abbie cooed in response, looking up at him as he read.

“But now he was happy, knowing he was loved by all his friends. The end.”

Spencer closed the book and Abbie immediately reached forward and opened it again.

“No.”

“You want me to read it again?” Spencer asked, chuckling when she nodded.

“Princess, I’ve read it to you twice already.”

“No.” Her hands tried to turn the pages back to the beginning.

“Oh, alright. Once more and then it’s time to go back to sleep okay?” He kissed her cheek then turned back to the first page.

“There once was a little bunny, a lonesome little bunny.”

You smiled at the memory, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom as you lay in bed, procrastinating getting up to start your day. It was a luxury you weren’t used to. Having Spencer around had been great because the help with Abbie was nice. He seemed to be getting better too. He still suffered from his demons and the nightmares still happened but not nightly like they once did.

It now had been 5 months since he was released. Things were seeming to finally get better. Spencer was reinstated—with a rule that every 100 days he worked in the field, he had to take 30 days off. He was initially disappointed at the decision, feeling like it wasn’t a full reinstatement. Emily reassured him it was for him to recharge mentally and physically and most importantly to spend time with his family. Now, he’d taken it in stride and loved the extra daddy-daughter time; Abbie was happy as she could be. The only thing that hadn’t changed in the least bit was the tension in your relationship with Spencer.

You got along alright, you just never talked about what had happened. Prison or his downright objection to seeing you was never spoken of. Of cours,e you were there to help him through his trauma, but you avoided any and every conversation having to do with the two of you. If it had to do with Abbie or any other subject, you could talk to him for hours. You just didn’t have the energy to unravel your feelings, nor get his no relationship wanted reply.

Yesterday was the beginning of his first 30 day stint of time off. Spencer being Spencer, he treated you and Abbie to a day at the zoo, anxious to teach her all about the animals. 

“Just wait until she’s old enough to really understand and retain what she’s learning. She’s going to have a vast knowledge of things just because of you,” you’d said, smiling while he helped Abbie feed a giraffe.

He turned towards you, squinting against the sun and smiled big.

“I want only the best for my little girl,” he had responded.

His smile was as bright as the sun, his eyes glinting from the happiness he obviously felt. A light breeze floated through the air, rustling the waves and curls of his hair ever so slightly. Your heart fluttered and it was at that moment you knew you could no longer deny the fact that you were in love with him.

Emily had been telling you the same thing for months, telling you that you had to admit it sooner or later because the moment of truth would hit you eventually. The moment of truth had finally come.

You were in love with the Halloween loving, chopstick hating, kickass profiler, amazing father, 187 IQ’d pretty boy that was Spencer Reid; and you were finally ready to tell him.

•

You glanced at the clock and were surprised to see it was already 9:30. You hadn’t stayed in bed that long since before Abbie had been born.

Noises from the kitchen pulled you out of your bed. You padded down the hallway, smiling when you heard Abbie’s babbling.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

You walk into the kitchen and see Spencer at the stove, Abbie’s high chair pulled up to the cabinet near him.

“Wel,l Abbie-bear here wanted to help daddy fix breakfast. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” 

You look over and see your child sitting in her high chair with chocolate smeared all over her face and hands, grinning big.

“Technically she was supposed to be adding the chocolate chips to the pancake batter, but she decided to eat the handful instead,” he chuckled.

“It’s the thought that counts right?” you laughed, grabbing a baby wipe from the pack on the counter.

You clean her face and hands as best as you can with her trying to squirm away from the wet cloth. 

“You’re silly aren’t you?” you smile, handing her a fresh cup of juice.

“No,” she giggled in response.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast Spencer.”

He shrugged.

“I wanted to. I figure since I kinda live here at the moment I can at least help you out.” 

He added another finished pancake to the growing plate of pancakes then poured the last remaining pancake batter to make a tiny one.

“This one is especially for you Abbie because it’s just your size, see?” 

He stepped aside, letting her see the small pancake on the griddle. She smiled around the spout of her sippy cup as she drank her apple juice.

“Thank you for making breakfast.” 

You stood on your tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek, a simple act of gratitude. At least you hoped that’s what it conveyed. You’d turned to grab a mug for some coffee and when you faced him again you saw he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious that you were in ratty old pajamas and your hair probably standing up in numerous directions.

The spell seemed to be broken when you spoke. He scrunched his nose in the cute little way he always did, turning back to the stove.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Ten minutes later the three of you were at the table pigging out on pancakes. You tore Abbie’s pancake into smaller pieces and she was currently grabbing them with both hands, managing to get more on her than actually in her.

“Did you always want kids?” Spencer asked, watching you hand her a small piece of your bacon.

“That’s a random question,” you chuckled, picking up your fork again.

He shrugged a shoulder.

“Just curious.”

“Yeah, I always knew I wanted kids one day,” you answered.

“But not at 24, right?”

You winced, thinking of how in shock you were when you found out you were pregnant. You were 23 almost 24 when you’d initially met Spencer. He’d been 34 even though he easily passed for your age. You really understood what it meant that age didn’t matter. He was nearly 11 years older than you, but a majority of the time you didn’t even remember. 

“I mean I don’t blame you. When I was 24, I was only in my second year of working at the BAU. Kids were absolutely the last thing on my mind,” he said.

“It’s not that. I was just scared knowing that from that point on I was responsible for this tiny, fragile little human that would depend on me for the rest of my life. It was even scarier to think just how much she needed me, even during pregnancy. But I wouldn’t change having her for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“She definitely is amazing, isn’t she?”

Abbie reached out towards him, a piece of pancake in her fingers.

“Daddy.”

He leaned towards her and took the bite in his mouth in which she smiled happily.

“Thank you baby girl.”

She started fussing, reaching for him, wanting out of her high chair.

“What about you? Did you never want kids or something?”

He lifted the tray off and unfastened her from the chair, taking her in his lap.

“I didn’t say that,” he said matter of factly, but not in a mean tone, “I just said at 24 I wasn’t thinking about kids.”

“Okay, so what changed your mind then?” You took another bite of pancake and chewed, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know. It was different things. Encountering kids at work, being the godfather to Michael and Henry. I always loved kids. I just didn’t think it was going to happen for me because work kept me so busy. Then one day I realized I’m 36 and I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids. Then this little munchkin came about unexpectedly,” he said, tickling her tummy.

“I never knew if it would be a reality for me, but I’ve imagined having a big family before. Big house, lots of kids and toys everywhere, it just seemed nice and completely different from my childhood. I mean it was just me and my parents. Then my dad left and it was my mom and me. I just figured maybe having a big family of my own would fill that loneliness I felt as a kid, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” you smiled, “I understand what you’re saying. Who knows though? Maybe you still will. How many kids are there in your imagined future?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe 5 or 6.”

You almost choked on your coffee.

“You poor future wife,” you sputtered.

“I don’t know, I have a feeling she’ll be the type to be cut out for half a dozen kids.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he feeds another piece to an open-mouthed Abbie. He doesn’t look up to catch your questioning look though.

“These pancakes are amazing by the way.” 

You’d just finished up your third and Abbie was still shoveling hers in.

“I think she agrees.”

“Well thank you,” he grinned.

Spencer hands Abbie to you and you take her, cleaning her face.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” you ask, pulling her hands away from the coffee mug she was trying to grab.

“Actually, JJ is taking Abbie today.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, the boys have missed her and have been begging to see her again. I also think it’s time to finally talk about what we’ve been tiptoeing around for months, Y/N.”

You felt yourself stiffen. Sure, you may have just decided the day before that you wanted to finally confess your feelings to him, but you didn’t want to have to deal with all the other things. Unfortunately for you, it went hand in hand and you knew he was right.

“Y/N, please. I know you’re still upset about things that happened when I was in prison. But you do know we need to talk about them eventually.”

“I know,” you whispered; the buried feelings from those horrible months coming to the surface again.

“Let’s go get her dressed. JJ should be here by 10.” 

Spencer took her from you, setting her down on her feet.

“How about a race, pumpkin? I’ll race you to your room.”

Abbie shrieked, taking off on her little legs, Spencer behind her, pretending to be way behind.

“She’s off to a wonderful start, look at that form as she runs!” Spencer’s voice came from the hall as if he were narrating an actual race, “Oh no, she’s beating me! She’s rounding the corner! She’s at the last stretch of the mile! IT’S OFFICIAL! Abrielle Jade Reid is the winner!”

You hear squealing and her giggles ascend in what you assume is caused by Spencer picking her up.

You stare at the place where he was sitting minutes before, remembering something Emily had told you days earlier.

“Abbie may be almost 2, but she has faith in you and Spencer every single day. She may not know what it is, but as her parents, she quite literally trusts you with her life. So why can’t you have that kind of faith in Spencer?”

•

An hour later it’s just you and Spencer left in the house. You weren’t proud to say that you had hidden out in your bedroom while he was assisting JJ with Abbie’s car seat outside, your attempt at prolonging the start of the conversation.

You heard the front door close and his footsteps getting closer to your room. You sat your phone aside when he walked in and sat up against the pillows.

“I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen. Okay?”

It wasn’t often that you heard Spencer sound so stern, the steely tone of his voice unfamiliar. But you currently felt like a student in the principal’s office about to face punishment. He didn’t wait for you to answer before he continued.

“I’m going to tell you about what happened to me in prison.” His voice was gentler now, but you saw by his face that he was serious.

“Spencer-”

His hard look silenced you.

“I want to do this. I can’t tell you why I chose not to see you until I tell you this.”

So he told you.

And you listened.

He told you about the fear he constantly lived with of being discovered as a fed, while in prison. He told you how he tried to help another inmate that was being targeted which only ended up in himself being beaten up and later, the same friend being murdered in front of him. How an inmate he mistook as a friend was actually the most dangerous prisoner there; he controlled everything and everyone and tried his hardest to control Spencer too. How his mind seemed to adapt to the line of thinking of the others. It was either do what you have to do or get killed. He explained that he did something terrible, something that he would’ve never imagined he’d ever do but was forced to do it to spare his own life. He confessed how much it scared him, that prison had turned him into a monster. He told you how painful it was reliving the events as he worked to heal in therapy. He indeed told you everything.

It hurt like hell hearing every detail, each of his words etched with pain and bad memories. He didn’t continue for a few quiet minutes after he finished recounting everything. His eyes were closed, as if trying to erase the pain of the old wounds freshly opened. You reached out towards him, putting your hand on top of his. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at your hand over his.

Without a word, he turned his hand in yours until your fingers laced through his perfectly.

“The team is used to seeing things like this. Even though it was me in there, one of their own, they knew to expect the worst. They see bad things every day. But I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let you see me like that. It would have completely broken you.”

He paused, swallowing hard before continuing.

“My job is to see horrible things and look how prison impacted me. How do you think I’d feel knowing I was responsible for putting you through so much pain? It was never about not wanting to see you. It was about protecting you, about keeping you oblivious to the true horrors of what it’s like in there. I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it. All I wanted to do was protect you and Abbie.”

You didn’t know exactly when you’d began crying, but now you felt the tears streaming quickly down your face. Months of pent up emotions came pouring out of you all at once.

“All I wanted to do was to see you! I wasn’t able to do anything to help you and then I’m told I couldn’t even see you? I had never felt so helpless.”

“Please don’t cry.”

He moved to where he could sit closer to you, concern etching his features. Pulling his hand out of yours, he put a hand on your face, wiping your tears.

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please believe me.”

“I know. I believe you.”

Your faces were mere inches apart by now and his eyes searched your face, repeatedly glancing down at your lips. All it would take was a hair of movement and your lips would be connected. You felt the tempting pull, wanting to kiss him badly, yet you stayed still, the moment seeming to stretch on.

“We can’t,” you whispered.

He was so close, you felt the breath of his words against your lips.

“Why not?”

He made the final move and kissed you. You didn’t fight it anymore. It was like having a drink of water after suffering from an agonizing thirst. His lips felt familiar, they were familiar but it’d been an awfully long time since you felt them against yours.

Your lips moved with his, parting every few kisses before reconnecting them to his. It was slow, sensual and full of love. All of your love for him was poured into the kiss, but you knew that was just your take on it. For you, this right now felt like coming home.

He inched you backwards until you were pressed up against your pillows once again with him hovering over you, his mouth not leaving yours once.

“I swear I didn’t intend to start something like this,” he murmured against your lips, between kisses.

“Not,” you paused as he kissed you again, “Complaining.”

Your hands moved over his chest and up his shoulders until your arms were wrapped around his neck. He was intoxicating and you were taking in as much of him as you could before this ended once again.

He pushed your pillows off the bed towards the floor, laying you flat against the bed. Though every time you’d been together hadn’t been fast and rough, you’d never taken it this slow with him before. The slow, intense kiss came to a standstill when he gently raked his teeth over your bottom lip before pulling away from you.

With his hands on your hips, he pushed them upwards, taking the bottom of your shirt up as well.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist, looking up at him.

“A-Are you sure you want to?” you asked hesitantly, not entirely confident his head was in the right place for something like this.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I’m positive.”

You raised your arms as he pulled the shirt over your head.

“Besides,” he paused to unbutton his shirt, “I want to take my time with you.”

You bit your lip, his words sending a warm flush all throughout your body. You helped him remove his shirt and pants at the same time because suddenly all you wanted was to feel his body against yours. After a lackadaisical kiss he began his descent downwards. 

His lips moved down your chest with soft kisses, a trail of them placed just above the cups of your bra. He reached behind you to unfasten it, slowly pulling each strap down your shoulder, his mouth following closely behind his hands.

He kissed each shoulder, your collar bones and breasts, his tongue softly flicking over both nipples in turn. You gasped, feeling goosebumps prickle your arms. His sloth like pace was both thrilling and agonizing at the same time. 

More followed down your belly, his fingers gently brushing the few stubborn stretch marks pregnancy had left behind. He paused briefly at your hip, sucking on it then running his tongue over the small bruise he’d created there.

“Mmm,” you hummed as he pushed your legs apart gently, clearly anticipating his next move.

Surprising you, he didn’t do what you thought he would. His lips brushed the top of your underwear, half on your skin, half on the fabric.

“Spence,” you moaned softly wanting more than what he was giving.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said, voice thick with desire. 

He licked his lips, looking up at you, eyes locked on yours as he pulled the silky item off you, hands trailing down your thighs, then back up. His gaze lingered on yours a beat longer, the intensity of it taking your breath away. You were the absolute center of his attention and he was relishing every bit of you. He was known to drive you crazy, but this was on a whole new level. There was something more intimate, more sensual about this that made you feel even more vulnerable in his presence.

His kisses traveled your thighs next, moving dangerously close to the area you were wanting him most. Just when you thought his next movement would be his mouth on your core, he would move in the opposite direction, much to your dismay. 

Back again he went, mouth moving in the right direction and-

“Oh my god,” you moaned, not even able to finish your previous thought.

The sly devil had distracted you just enough so that you weren’t expecting when his finger slid inside you, rubbing against you deliciously. If you thought that was mind-blowing enough, you almost lost your shit when his tongue met your clit before sucking gently.

You weren’t entirely sure if it was because it had been a long, long time since you’d had any sexual escapades or if it was just Spencer in general, but all coherent thought left your mind the longer he worked you.

Your hand grips his hair, your breath coming in rapid pants signaling your oncoming release.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Spencer!” you half gasped, half moaned as your climax hit you, robbing you of your breath for a few seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, he was hovering over you, a small smirk on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chuckled.

He hummed, “I’m not done yet sweetheart.”

Sometime during your current shared kiss, his boxers were removed and he pushed into you. He moaned into your mouth, his tongue twirling with yours. 

His tantalizing movements made you able to feel every bit of him as he moved in and out of you repeatedly. Your earlier wish was granted as now your bodies were pressed against one another, moving as one.

“Feels incr-” he groaned mid-sentence.

“Incredible,” he breathed.

You couldn’t argue that. Somehow all the other times didn’t hold a candle to right now. 

Your hands gripped his biceps, giving in and begging him to pick up his pace. His hands hooked behind your thighs pulling you closer at the exact moment as a thrust of his hips causing you both to moan. His forehead fell against yours as your hips rocked to the new rhythm.

“You okay?” he whispered, watching you.

“God, yes,” you half laughed, half moaned.

His hands hadn’t stayed still the entire time, moving from one place to another, his touch gentle as if he were touching fine china. Whether they were stroking your hips, splayed across your stomach or resting on the side of your neck as he kissed you deeply your whole body automatically responded to his touch without you realizing it. 

Fire filled your veins and your body easily arched into his, more than ready to let that fire consume your senses. Your body inadvertently clenched around him and a growl came from deep within his throat, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

You’d often seen his face of concentration, the creased brow and the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. That was the same expression he wore now, determined to shatter you for a second time. You couldn’t even begin to process how the hell it was adorable and sexy at the same time. 

The two of your movements become more hurried and erratic, the air hot with pants and moans. His fingers dig into your sides as his orgasm hit him.

“Oh god I love you,” Spencer moans into your neck as he succumbs to his high, your name falling from his lips.

Your breathing is suddenly heavier and not solely because of your own building climax, but because of his words. You don’t have a moment nor a clear head to think about what was just said as you’re a whimpering and writhing mess underneath him, the heavy knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter. You feel yourself coming apart at the seams, as if all your nerve endings are ready to burst into oblivion.

Spencer knows you well because within a short time of his own release he sends you falling into an abyss of ecstasy, caressing you and kissing you anywhere and everywhere he can, the entire time. You’re pretty sure it takes you a few minutes to breathe properly again.

Afterwards, he gently nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn to face him, kissing him softly once again. You can’t possibly wrap your head around what had just happened. It wasn’t normal sex like you used to have with him. This was tender, passionate, but hot. Probably the hottest you’d had. Then you remembered what he’d said.

Was it sincere or was it just in the heat of the moment?

•

Both of you lay quietly for a while; so long you’re almost sure that Spencer fell asleep.

“I have to tell you something,” you finally said, halfway hoping he was already asleep.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking over at you. 

“Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me and Abbie even though I didn’t show it at the time. I’m grateful that you told me all you did earlier and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what I’d have done if-”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he chuckled, aware he’s guilty of the same thing at times too.

“Right. Well, I wanted to tell you I love you. Actually, I’m in love with you. I had to tell you because I just realized that I can’t deny it anymore and even though you probably don’t feel the same way, you deserve to know.”

He’d been watching you intently the entire time you’d been speaking. He licked his lips before responding.

“I meant it, you know.”

You looked over as he rolled over on his side and rested his head in his hand. You were confused as that wasn’t the immediate reaction you’d expected.

“Meant what?”

“That I love you. I saw your face when I said it.”

“My face?”

“Y/N, I’m not a profiler for nothing. You were freaking out because I said it.”

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”

“Then why?” he asked.

“I didn’t know if you actually meant it or if it was just you know, the sex making you talk.”

“Well, I did mean it. I’ve been in love with you for a while, you know.”

You laugh incredulously, unable to believe that all this time he’d actually felt the same way as you.

“You have? Since when?”

“I’m not sure when exactly. It just kinda hit me one day that you were the one person I couldn’t get off my mind, the one who knows me better than most. I just didn’t know how or if to say it. It kind of slipped out accidentally earlier.”

“I just assumed it was because of the sex,” you chuckled.

“Oh believe me, the sex will definitely make me say it as well. Repeatedly.”

His lips twisted into a smirk as his hand glides over your stomach, pulling you close for a kiss.

“I love you.” He paused for a kiss.

“I love you,” Another kiss followed.

“I love you.” A third.

He retreated, laying back next to you.

“I can’t thank you for all that you’ve done for me these last few months. I wouldn’t have been able to get better without you by my side.”

You smiled, happy to see some of the old Spencer you knew and loved peeking through once again. Prison may have changed him, but he was still Spencer in all the ways that mattered.

“So what does this mean for us then?” you asked, watching his fingers glide lazily over your skin.

“I mean we’ve sort of been a couple for nearly 2 years now, so now it’s just us finally being smart and admitting it,” he smiled, “But if you want me to be official, I want you to be mine. My only girl. Well, besides Abbie. Can’t forget her.”

“No, definitely can’t forget her.”

“I want to be a family. If that’s okay with you, that is.” He added the last part hesitantly.

You put your hand over his, stopping his motions then twining your fingers with his.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you smiled up at him.

Maybe good things had come from all the bad.

You lay in a comfortable silence after that, simply enjoying each other’s company. It was Spencer who spoke next.

“You know what got me through the long days in prison?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, what?”

“I thought about Abbie a lot of course. I had faith I would see her again. Also, I had faith in the BAU, I knew the team would do their jobs and work their asses off to get me out of there. But that’s not all.”

“At the end of the day, after all my misfortune, I knew faith would lead me back to my family.”

Tags: @wefracturedmotivation @rt8815 @pastanest

[krattgirl124]

Core Activated Chapter 9

The year was 1987, four horrible years without Belle, Elizabeth, Chris, Charlie, and Henry. William had turned cold against his last remaining son and just focused on his new restaurant, Freddy Fazbear’s Jr. He was busy setting up three animatronics on stage while Michael was setting up the last one in the Kid’s Cove. On the stage had a brown plastic bear with a black top hat, blue eyes, and pink cheeks, on his left, a bright blue bunny with a red bow tie that matched his red rosy cheeks, bright green eyes, and a white muzzle. On the bear’s right, a yellow chicken with a bib that said “Let’s Party”, a small pink cupcake that matched her pink cheeks, and bright blue eyes.

In the Kid’s Cove stood the white and pink fox with red lipstick and cheeks, a hook on one of her hands and a pink heart-shaped symbol on her chest. William couldn’t stand to look at it, which is why he made Michael do it, it looked too similar to Kay and he did not want to be thinking about that wolf that he locked away again. He didn’t really believe that Kay held Belle’s spirit. Kay was just mocking him, just like in his dream.

He finished with Toy Bonnie and left the stage. He walked by Michael and he glared at his only son with extreme hatred.

“Father—“

“If you want to make it up to me after the crap you pulled. I have one option and only one.” William cut him off, “Some engineers have claimed that the supposed deactivated animatronics in Circus Baby’s are moving around. You are you go down and see what’s going on.” William growled. Michael opened his mouth to protest then quickly closed.

“Okay.” he mumbled. “When do I leave?”

“The sooner the better,” William replied. “The sooner you leave the sooner I'll stop seeing you.”

Michael slowly nodded and left the building, heading to his car. He looked back at the pizzeria before driving to where he last saw Circus Baby’s Pizza World. The building had been knocked down, and rebuilt underground for who knows what. But thankfully it was built just right underneath where it use to be.

“So many awful memories lie here.” He mumbled, getting out of his car and opening the trapdoor, dropping into the elevator. On the way down Michael felt as if someone was watching him even though there was no one there. A small keypad appeared and Michael walked over to it. He typed in the first thing that came to mind, which was Eggs Benedict. He chuckled to himself and set it to default as a joke for the next person who used it. As the elevator stopped creepy laughter ran in Michael’s ears. His heart leapt into his throat and he quickly ducked into the vent.

“I didn't do anything!” he said as he crawled deeper into the vent.

‘First off let’s check on Ballora to see if she’s on stage.’ The hand unit voice said. Michael shrugged a later and pressed on the light button for Ballora Gallery, it was empty.

“What the…?” Michael stared at the empty stage, there was no trace of Ballora or her minireenas.

‘Looks like Ballora doesn’t feel like dancing. Let’s give her a controlled shock.’

“A controlled shock huh?” He looked at the red button and pressed it. A loud zap was heard and a loud screech emitted from the room.

‘Let's check on Ballora again.’

Michael pressed the button again and Ballora was on her stage, dancing away with her minireenas.

“Fascinating, they actually still work.” He said in awe.

Back in Freddy’s Jr, locked away in the darkest parts of Parts and Service, Kay lied on the floor in a sleep-like state. Her paws twitched rapidly and the faint whirs on her rusty gears were the only sounds in the room.

“Chris…...mommy’s here…..don’t worry mommy’s here…..” she mumbled in her sleep. A dark figure appeared and crouched next to the white wolf.

“Just you watch Belle.” the figure hissed. “You'll soon lose your eldest and last child. What good is a mother who can't protect her own children? How does it feel to know you failed? Failed as a sister. Failed as a wife. And failed as a mother.”

‘How do you feel to know you let everyone down and didn't do a thing to stop it?” the figure stood and grinned at the helpless wolf, “And your youngest son suffered much more than you think, the nightmares I gave him and you were never there to protect him from these nightmares, making you fail even more as a mother.” Kay whimpered in her sleep state and the figure laughed.

The figure smiled and disappeared back into the darkness. When she walked out she was in Ballora’s Gallery watching Michael who was looking at Funtime Foxy. Just as Michael pressed the shock button Willow snapped her fingers cutting the power off making Michael curse. Looks like Funtime Foxy is back on stage. The voice said.

“Funtime Foxy isn’t even there!” Michael protested making the figure smirk. Michael kicked the wall and cried out in pain as his foot hit the metal wall.

“Idiot.” the figure hissed. Michael held his foot for a minute before crawling through the vent to Circus Baby’s Auditorium. The figure smiled and crawled in after him. Michael froze and glanced behind him. His eyes widened in shock and he scrambled back.

“Who-who are you?”

“I’m your aunt Willow and the last face you’ll ever see.” the figure said. Michael crawled faster into the vent and Willow followed slowly and calmly. Michael burst into the Auditorium and dashed into a small open space under a desk. He dragged the metal door in front of him and turned his flashlight off, he had nearly forgotten about it.

The figure chuckled and summoned two small animatronics called Bidybabs, which peeked through the holes of the door while trying to pull it open. Michael gritted his teeth and pulled the door shut.

“Crap crap crap crap!!” Michael yelled, still holding it closed.

As the figure watched the last Afton child struggle to keep the little animatronics away, heavy footsteps approached behind her.

“Stay away from my brother!” A familiar voice yelled, a claw lashing out to attack the figure, but it went right through them. Willow spun around to see Circus Baby/Elizabeth glaring at her aunt. Willow laughed and shot out a black tendril at the animatronic. Circus Baby dashed to the side narrowly missing Willow’s attack. Willow growled and shot up black tendrils around Circus Baby’s legs.

“Get off!” Circus Baby hissed as she started to struggle. Michael took his chance and dashed past Willow and Circus Baby.

“Not so fast.” Willow hissed and summoned several tendrils to shred open Michael’s back.

“No, you don’t.” Circus Baby said before punching Willow in the face. This time it hit Willow and she stumbled back in surprise as Michael made it safely out of the Auditorium and rushed to the elevator. Willow hissed and used her claw-like nails to cut into the animatronics circuit deactivating Circus Baby.

“You little brat, always interrupting my plans. Looks like I’m gonna need to dismantle you.” Willow growled.

“Elizabeth?” Funtime Freddy’s voice was suddenly heard as the large bear pulled himself through the vent and into the Gallery. Willow glared at him and threw a thin needle, piercing through the hard suit and endoskeleton, deactivating him.

“I’ll have to deal with both of you later.” Willow snarled as she left the Gallery.

Michael ran for his life. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like one bit. Who’s Willow? Why did Circus Baby protect him and call him brother? All of these questions flooded his mind and he had other things to do. One of those things, get home safely and tell his father what he saw. They were active, they were alive, they were sentient. He got out of the elevator and rushed to his car, driving home.

[pavlikovskaya]

the secret history live blogged

forever mad that i got spoilered so much on this book.

anyway hello! and welcome to this … shit fest of the secret history by donna tartt aka the biggest letdown of my life

enjoy! i didn’t

ok whaatttt the fuck. he was walked over?? he was packed and squished under ice?? WHAT DID THIS BUNNY GUY DO TO MAKE Y’ALL SO MAD????? istg what the fuck. cruel cruel fate

four against one, i knew y’all were assholes. you sounded like assholes before i even knew what your names were.

i have to say, i’m not a very big fan on the beginning: hello, my name is richard, i am 28, this is my story. makes it sound like he’s in an AA meeting, but i’ll let this one slide.

years at home dispensable like a plastic cup? fictional history and upbringing tales? [*clears throat in relatable*]

my father was mean, my house ugly, my mum didn’t give me attention, must kill someone to cope and serve the aesthetic™ of rejected, unloved child, brooding and mad at the world. got it.

if richard, plain and poor is the one who kills the rich asshole bc he’s a rich asshole, i might relate to him more than i thought.

[*slams book shut*] okay. okay. am i gonna have to google every other phrase in this godforsaken history book or is donna gonna go easy on my ass?

sounds like a university i would love to go to. oh, pardon me, CoLlEgE.

wait, they’d pay him back for the plane if he GOT IN??? and if he didn’t well then what, soz dude, tough luck , such is life, see ya never? makes a lot of sense. should pay him back regardless imo but hey, i had to pay £50 six times to audition at universities who, all six times, rejected me, so.

three days on a bus and arrival at six in the morning? i cannot fathom a worse scenario.

this prof conducts his selection on a personal level rather than on an academic one, said with a note of sarcasm? is he … you know … ?

ahhhh these saucy saucy tea spilling french people, gotta love em. ‘listen, i know i’ve only met you three minutes ago, but i’m bout to spill some serious tea which i must ask you to keep to yourself and never mention for i have some formidable enemies in the literature division, yes, my very own department, but we all actually love each other. you know, in a very shakespearian ‘i shall murder you at the end of the play but for now, let’s make sweet love under the stars as a witch friend of mine who will later murder you watches’ way. all very platonic. but don’t say a word of it.’

who do you think was with morrow when richard came to see him in the lyceum and what were they talking about? GODDAMN IT, this french bastard put me in a gossipy mood.

bunny — short for edmund…….

god, i love a redhead.

richard and me being whipped by francis and his long, flapping black coats, love to see it.

‘pseudo-intellects and teenage decadents abounded and black clouting was de rigueur’ can I enrol ~now~????

francis talks to cats and bunny yells from his window down at the incest twins to stop snogging in the garden. i can’t wait to see which one am I at the end of the book

henry and julian driving off together? do i smell something…. gay?

THEY WRITE WITH FOUNTAIN PENS????? [*flashbacks from my childhood intensify*].

i do not understand most of these references or sentences and if the whole book is like this, i will throw myself out the window in attempted suicide even though i live on the ground floor.

i have absolutely no idea what they’re on about.

hwhat

francis in black cashmere and cigarette smoke brushed past him and almost touched his arm. how bloody delicious is this??

‘give him some flowers and he’ll enrol you.’ ok, julian is definitely the gay prof everyone falls for.

at this stage, i would rater have voted we kill henry, not bunny, but we’ll see.

‘i was tired of being poor.’ [*buys a tie with pictures of men hunting deer on it*] ‘that’s better.’

‘i believe that it is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.’ donna tartt gave me the book and the reason both.

constantly chuckling at the way richard is so completely mesmerised and intimidated by francis to the point that he’ll duck into a doorway to let him pass even though they’re going to the same lesson.

I don’t know how a ‘bostonian voice’ is supposed to sound like so francis will be slightly british in my mind for the rest of the book.

cubitum eamus? cubitum. eamus? CUBITUM?? EAMUS????? OH! GOD! HELP ME! THE SWEET SWEET HOMOEROTIC FORESHADOWING OF IT ALL!!! throwback to when, in a much too similar vein, boris, upon being asked by theo to say something in russian for him, he said ‘fuck you up the ass’. my heart is racing with yearn. i can’t fucking believe i just read this. it’s time to bust out the annotation tabs again.

oh my gooooddd whAt is henry’s problem????? he reminds me slightly of number one from the umbrella academy, but in a meaner, more show-offy, bastardish way that’s supposed to showcase his superior intelligence over all mortals like fuck you, go read harry potter and chill.

‘meke (s.p.) you Wear it’? i take it meke is actually make but what on earth is (s.p.)? google gave me 238 possible definitions for that acronym and, needless to say, i didn’t bother.

i love how donna’s main characters are funny essentially bc they’re bitches towards other people they deem inferior to them in their internal monologues.

if you were drunk and ‘slam-dancing’ at a party, i don’t have to be stuck up or elitist to judge you and hate on you. even less so if you throw your beer in my face.

‘love that jacket, silk, isn’t it?’ ‘yep, my grandfather’s. totally not from that annoying girl in my dorm whose mate your mates beat up at a party last term for shoving camilla and throwing a beer in her face and who probably only gave me the jacket because she wants to fuck me, nope.’

‘let me get that door for you.’ that’s it, that’s the tweet.

when bunny said they should round up the ‘officious fags and burn them at the stake’ i yelled the loudest what the fuck i’ve ever yelled at a book. i can see now why they killed him. and i bet that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

okay, his true colours are starting to show. it’s even more unnerving when i think about the fact that like half of this stuff is supposed to be true.

called it, they’re boning.

i can’t wait until francis locks lips with richard. i am simply tingling for it. i hope he and camilla have a threesome with richard at this country house. oh wait no, they’re all here. eh, maybe another time.

oh, we finally get some juicy inside gossip

if francis and richard don’t fuck in that gorgeous immense library, i will riot.

okay, what’s henry’s deal? he’s nice now? and he’s oddly … interested in/caring towards richard? like who the fuck says ‘i hope you slept well’ without at least a little affection towards them.

AHAHAHAAHA, NOW I GET ALL THOSE MOON LANDING QUESTIONS ON THE TSH RELATED UQIZZES I STUPIDLY TOOK. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL. imagine them lot in present day completely bewildered and confused at the fact that the whole world is in lockdown for some weird fucking reason. this is the funniest shit ever, swear to god.

dogs get heart attacks?

wow they’re being dicks. that shady shit they’re doing’s so fucking rude aajksdhfkfh and to think i had initially thought richard was the ‘leader’ of their group...

okay, they’re either all into bdsm or they’re some odd breed of late vampires who don’t have much of the traits/qualities of ‘classic’ vampires as they have possibly diminished over the centuries as the species was becoming extinct. maybe witches. hm. or occultists. I REALLY DON’T KNOW!!

richard be like ‘what should I tell you?’ well—and this is merely a suggestion—, how about you start with what they’re actually doing when they’re not hanging out with you?????

i can’t wait for bunny to figure/find out richard’s not actually rich and be a dick about it.

two months??? what kind of bonkers winter vacation between terms is that???

is being constantly cold part of the dark academia aestehtic? cos it certainly seems to be.

what the fuck are these (sp)s bunny keeps putting in his letters??

i hope somebody (henry, or maybe francis? as something that would bring them together?) is fake rich too.

ouuuuu here comes the dark, mental stuff.

richard dropped out of drama to study the classics. if we were villains is a group of people studying shakespeare. coincidence? i think not. it is with dread that i think at the possibility that i might like the other more because so far, i can’t say i’m heavily impressed with tsh.

now i’m all for weird, fancy names, but marchbanks is really an odd one. who the fuck looks at their newborn baby and goes ben? nah. tom? no. MARCHBANKS! perfect.

henry winter saves richard from a piping cold winter. ah, don’t bother, i’ll do it myself [*jumps out the window*]

henry dislikes electric lights? smokes cigarettes without filter? reads milton translated into latin ‘just to see if a language with no noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose’? can this dude be any more pretentious?

BUNNY! IT’S BUNNY! HE’S FAKE RICH THE BASTARD! ALL THAT ‘oops, forgot my wallet’ BULLSHIT, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TEST FOR RICHARD OR JUST RICH PEOPLE LEECHING OFF OTHERS (why spend yours when you can spend theirs?) BUT NOOOO, HE’S BROOOOKE! AND AN ASSHOLE! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! serves him right, the asshole (that gay people being burnt at the stake comment really bothered me despite the fact that i laughed). and not only is he broke and leeching off of henry, he leeches in the most shameless, greedy, extravagant and ignorant way, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu fuck out of here.

ha! he got fat the bastard. found some sugar daddy to sustain you during your last month in italy or what?

this rabbit dude sure has some big balls for a broke ass bitch.

‘let me see your head wound.’ vs ‘your arm.’

‘that sort of tension which i, being rather more disinclined that way than not, am quick to pick up on. i had caught a strong breath of it from francis, a whiff of it at times from julian (…)’ sounds like we got another one boys, a straight dude with the best gaydar in the world. that being said, julian is the fakest bitch in the book so far.

this secrecy is killing the ever-loving shit out of me. argentina one way?? whY

lol if you’re gonna steal his book with the intention of having him come back to the apartment and see all that shit, at least don’t put it in such an obvious place where he couldn’t have possibly missed it. for such a smart guy, you sure are dumb, dude.

francis’ mother be like ‘give that bad boy a kiss from me’ and i’m like HE BETTER.

richard the worst liar. just say your mum called for fuck’s sake! you could get your boyfriend in trouble!

cheesecake cover: ‘please do not steal this, i am on financial aid.’ bunny: [*steals it*] the cheesecake: [*sucks*] me: serves you fucking right, pig.

THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDICAP. I’M YELLING. funniest thing donna tartt ever wrote.

i bet they’re all there sat at the table like nothing happened and weren’t supposed to leave anywhere at all.

called it! motherfuckers.

what the hell is going on. are they a gang of assassins or something?

richard: ‘you killed somebody, didn’t you?’ henry: [*laughs as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and how could you possibly suggest such a thing*] yep

bunny: gays are weirdly obsessed with food, don’t you think? also bunny: [*gets excluded from the bacchanal because he couldn’t stop eating*]

okay. i can see now why this book started the whole dark academia aesthetic

aight, that’s all good and great (far from it) but WHERE IS MY FRANCIS CONTENT????

going through the motions of hating and liking henry every other chapter.

everybody: [*burning clothes, cleaning the car, running this way and that to get rid of evidence*] francis: aight y’all imma take a power nap real quick cool? cool

there is hardly anything in the world i hate more than loose-of-tongues. bunny and that bitch ass hely from the little friend. god, i want to sock each and every single one of them in their stupid bloody loud mouths.

i want to know, i really want to know if there are any bunny apologists or … s…. s… [*grits teeth*] stans out there. don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, i just wanna talk.

if it’s henry and richard and not francis and richard,,,,, i will riot.

boy this henry guy smokes a lot…. more than me in my prime.

as if this dude reenacted the murder he wasn’t even present at in the lobby of a hotel just to torture henry. i can’t believe this character is still alive and has been for so long.

FINALLY! one francis moment that indicated there will be no more francis moments…. .

funny that, reading the secret history put something into perspective about the goldfinch for me.

i love how richard just casually throws it in there whenever he happens to mention camilla that he loves her and wants to kiss her and that she’s so beautiful and blah blah blah and then it’s never brought up again ever because he’s constantly going on and on about henry.

wait, don’t tell me it’s happening now, in the middle of the book! that would be most unexpected as there’s a whole entire book following.

henry is such a stone cold bitch, i wonder where they put his heart when they made him, in his ass?

don’t tell me henry went boxer dogs on JULIAN?!?!?! he wouldn’t. … would he?

i don’t know. i get it, obviously, the gravity of the situation, but going as far as killing him to silence him is a bit … extreme in my opinion.

thank you, charles, for being the only voice of reason in this madness.

okay, i understand it’s in richard’s best interest not to be involved, but they called him there to what, make him listen to all this and then send him on his merry way?

charles: well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o’clock, you hardly think of what you’re going to feed the copse for dinner. [*crickets*] francis: hey, how about asparagus?

henry: someone’s coming. quick! act normal! richard: [*turns to inspect the trunk of a tree*] [*footsteps approach*] richard: [*inspection of tree intensifies!!*]

you’re a bit late, bunny, just saying.

and now what the fuck is the rest of the book about? what do we do, let’s run, let’s stay, let’s go to the police, what do we do with him?

i love how richard describes himself as part of the process: we dwelt on it, we convinced ourselves, we devised plans when in reality, he was only there as an attaché, he wasn’t included much, almost at all in the actual planning process of it other than to give his insight on the poison route because henry thought it was his area of expertise so to speak when, really, it wasn’t and then was told about the other plan because they simply thought he should know. even then henry tells him ‘you can go now, if you like’ because there wasn’t anything they sort of needed him for anymore since he wasn’t going to be there, he was just a pair of ears. i like to think he was there in hopes to maybe dissuade them, try to stop them, tell them how mad it is, tell them there’s another way, but he didn’t do much of that either (not that I think he would’ve succeeded anyway, had he tried, henry’s one stubborn motherfucker). he didn’t come up with shit, he wasn’t supposed to even be there, i think, much less contribute in any way. had bunny not told him about the bacchanal, richard would have probably found out about it after it was already done, he was only included for the fucks of it and yet, he talks as if he was right there in the room with them, brainstorming ideas how to kill him. and i get how it only comes from a sense of obvious guilt because he knew about it, he was there and didn’t do anything to stop it, but he’s by far not one to have agreed to the whole thing or condoned it in any way from what he’s told us in book one. he himself says in the very same paragraph that he only watched. he’s very much a dark academia nick carraway type of character and i hate it. because i like him. he deserves better.

i’m pretty sure that the reason that serial killer autobiography you picked up in an airport was bereft of details is because no publishing house would allow such lurid specifications that might shock, disgust, enrage or give ideas to the reader in their book, not because the author is shy, richard, but ok, let’s move on. actually no, let’s not. you can’t expect the autobiography of a killer to only tell you about the murders, especially since in this particular instance, he was caught and went to prison. of course he’s going to tell you more about that than the killings, have you any idea what prison life is like? how much it eats away at your soul? how it crushes your spirit if you have one and how hard it is to get over? the time he spent in jail is going to haunt him forever and after such a long time in there, however long it was, you hardly think about your crime as anything but a huge mistake that was not worth the torment if you’re not a downright psychopath which, since he came out and wrote a book about it, doesn’t seem to be the case here but i guess you’ll find out all about it soon enough.

OH! a francis moment???? could this be it? please dear god may this be it.

it wasn’t, but there’s another one!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

‘it’s fun, i promise you.’ [*dies*]

if this is it, if that’s all, i am not forgiving this book.

‘i tried to pull him out but it was no good; his head lolled back uselessly’ YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S DEAD, RICHARD. [*scoffs*] ‘uselessly’

i wish i held any of my teachers and professors in at least half the high regard henry holds julian. i also wish they were half as competent and passionate about teaching as julian.

I DON’T BELIEVE ‘HE WAS JUST THERE’. IT’S BORIS AND THEO AT 6 AM IN THAT NEW YORK BAR ALL OVER AGAIN. HE’S ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE RICHARD WENT ALL ‘YOU’RE NOT HOT’ ON HIS ASS AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE. if they don’t kiss again—

i can’t help but admire the way they communicate sensitive information to each other in ancient greek, they sound like characters from jane austen novels while talking about drugs and saving face from tabloids and gossip, it’s rather amazing.

quite pointless to go through all that trouble to hide the cigarettes and deny having been smoking when the smell will be there no matter what and she’ll know for sure. i swear, all these seemingly smart ass people are actually idiots

my question is why would anyone, drunk or not, for any reason, leave the top down in the rain? why? what possible pleasure could one get from driving in the middle of the rain with rain actually pouring down on them?

isn’t linoleum a bit tacky for a house that looks like it’s been in architectural digest?

why is charles so on edge? why are they all always hiding??? camilla and her late night 3 am phone calls, her secret phone code with henry, charles mysteriously going out for cigarettes so brusquely without a word in the middle of the night and refusing to talk about it, what are they all always hiding?! nobody trusts one another with anything, it’s very annoying, to be honest. aren’t they supposed to be super best friends? you’d think that after a bacchanal and a double homicide, you wouldn’t keep secrets from one another, but i guess not.

ah, shame. was kind of hoping for some sneaky richard/francis basement action, but alas. what’s their ship name anyway, richis?

i just spoilered myself again, twice, by going through the tsh tag on tumblr and then looking for francis/richard fanfics on ao3 and finding out that francis marries? gets with? a girl who’s apparently called fucking priscilla. donna tartt really has a knack for weird fancy names, huh? i’m here for it tbh

richard you fucking snitch! you had one job!!!!!!

why the fuck are they still keeping him in the dark about shit? henry and charles quarrelled and charles is in jail and henry still won’t tell him what’s so bad about it and why he wants richard to handle all this shit instead of him and why bunny’s murder still matters and why why just why are they still using him as their pawn??

seriously, this exchange was about the worst they’ve had so far. he himself knows it: ‘there was a silence during which I felt acutely the hopelessness of ever trying to get to the bottom of anything with henry. he was like a propagandist, routinely withholding information, leaking it only when it served his purposes.’ THEN WALK AWAY. SAY NO. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN. FUCKING—UGH!!!!!!!

they’re all so shamelessly using him… i can’t read. it’ll kill him, one way or another.

these ungrateful little shits i swear to god. richard bails him out, he’s all thankful and sweet when he wants him to do ‘this one little favour’ of taking him to his francis’ house so he can break in and when richard’s like i don’t have a car, he immediately turns sour and passive aggressive like you know what?! richard hasn’t slept all night and all morning waiting for your ass to go to court cos you were a drunken idiot and decided YET AGAIN that driving in that state is a great idea so he can bail you out and when you are finally out, you start being fussy and then it’s all ‘right. thanks a lot’??? richard doesn’t fucking need this shit! y’all are horrible friends. he’s not your bloody servant. how about you take that stick and privilege out of your asses and start treating him a bit more kindly, huh???

‘henry made me swear not to tell.’ WHAT. WHAT. BITCH, GET THE FUCK OUT.

this is by far the most toxic friendship i’ve ever heard of.

oh wow that kiss was hot. i thought it was just a speculation that they were incestuous with each other, but i-i guess not.

FINALLY it gets interesting. Mr Abernathy spilling some piping hot tea mmm

he literally just said i’d sleep with you if you got drunk enough to let me. oh dear god help me.

oh fuck it got sad. It’s patrick and brad all over again ugh always happens to the best of gays

finally richard my boy starts hating them, as he should. except francis, you’re a dick in that respect. he’s only joking for fuck’s sake, don’t get all butthurt, jesus. sensitive much?

uuuuuu tunts Tunts TUNTS! shit is hitting the fan. henry, henry, henry, our ‘golden boy’. nothing but a crook himself, the motherfucker. i’ve been waiting for this reveal since the beginning of the fucking book. if they gang up on him and kill him, i will never stop laughing.

it’s as if he’s begging to be excluded and hated, i swear. why is he being such a prick? does he love her? is that it? then there are a BILLION other ways to go about it, he doesn’t have to be such a shady bitch!! besides, wasn’t he in cahoots with julian?

‘i was depressed, i thought if i slept here it might make me feel better.’ that’s so precious tho….. funny, but precious. such child-like innocence in this grown ass intoxicated man, i melt.

clever, luring him out of the playground under the false pretext of a drink when he’s had plenty. think like a drunk

the only consistent, recurring and ever-present elements in donna tartt’s books are the hors d’oeuvres.

it’s so cute how charles needs him, i—

girls be like: watching a film, listening to a podcast, talking on the phone, having dinner, figure painting, filing nails, writing an essay and doing their makeup all at the same time

this so called love he feels for camilla is so unfounded and feeble and just … it seems so out of the fucking blue every single time he mentions it, i can’t read this shit. IT’S SO SEE-THROUGH!!

okay WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST READ. WHAT. THE ACTUAL. MOTHERFUCKING. FUCK. one second he’s ‘i love her so much’ the next he wants to strangle and rape her?????????????? i have zero goddamn words. i am fucking speechless. i don’t think i have ever been this confused at something since i watched the turning. i don’t think you realise quite how done i am with this fucking book at this point.

i think i do hate henry more than bunny and i’m afraid i’ll like if we were villains better.

richard: [*takes sleeping pills*] also richard: [*surprised he can’t keep up with the film he started watching after taking sleeping pills*]

‘look,’ said francis. ‘let’s just go, if we leave now we can be in montreal by dark. nobody will ever find us.’ vs ‘well, i’m not going,’ said boris serenely. ‘fuck that, i’m running away. do you want to come?’

this henry bitch is the most difficult piece of shit i’ve ever fucking encountered. ‘you mean, it’s something you need to tell me in private?’ oh FUCK OFF AND STEP OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. IT’S ONE THING I ASK OF YOU, YOU TWAT.

huh, i thought he was doing this shit on purpose, leaving the page face down on the table so that julian could see it, i thought it was some sick twisted plan of his.

lmao called it. everybody saw through julian’s façade except richard and the others and i completely understand. in a fashion much like julian’s, i think he knew that, he saw it, but just chose to ignore it because the image he posed and richard himself constructed of him in his mind was much more favourable to what he really was. i mean, fuck, who the fuck says ‘i hope we are all ready to leave the phenomenal world and enter into the sublime’ with their whole chest and mean it?

if you think he’s not coming, why sit in silence staring out the window, ignoring everyone and wasting everybody’s time instead of telling them from the very start this piece of information you have on hand that could save everybody a lot of trouble, time and overthinking? why be all mysterious and enigmatic about it? just tell them from the start, you’re not in a film for fuck’s sake……..

charles, one of the four of them (henry, camilla, julian and himself) might be the one i despise the least, almost like had he not been so brutal towards camilla,,,, but i don’t know if i can trust her, that whole scene seemed … staged somehow. i don’t know. i don’t know

didn’t expect henry would turn on julian too though. first real thing he’s done all book.

agatha

christie

writes

good

mysteries.

richard does seem like the type of fellow who would grow up in a household where his dad would strike his mum for no fucking reason.

okay so did henry punch him for that comment or not? what was all that father beating mother bit for?

#boysweekendinthecountry! 🤪 #partytime! #ignoringourproblems! #woooo!!!

oh my fucking god chARLES!!!

yes, henry, great, brilliant, fucking splendid idea to antagonise the man pointing a gun at you.

MY PAUL SMITH SHIRT!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHASFSHDGFDK

i love how absolutely nobody noticed fucking richard BLEEDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

‘expected everyone to stop and look at me. no one did.’ and they never will. that’s your whole friendship summed up in two lines. you don’t matter to them, you never did, you’re absolutely unimportant. just a tool, a pawn, a nobody. sorry you had to get shot to realise that.

‘’he shot me.’ somehow, this remark did not elicit the dramatic response i expected. before i had the chance to elaborate—’ ELABORATE WHAT? ELABORATE WHAT?! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO SAY!! GOD, this hurts to read. this angers me beyond words, but it also fucking hurts so bad…

nothing, not even getting shot can make richard lose his wit

disGUSTING henry and camilla moment. I HATE THEM

oh shit. did not see that coming. well, glad that’s over.

ugh, time to read how francis got hetero married :\

[*chokes*] DUE TO THE VERY EXCELLENT EXCUSE OF HAVING A GUNSHOT WOUND IN THE STOMACH I DIDN’T TAKE MY FRENCH EXAM YAY!!! god, i fucking love Richard.

the thing is, right, i read that line, ‘i managed to get out of taking my french exams the next week’ about three or four times and somehow, the following line or even the words ‘gunshot wound’ never made it to my eyes! i don’t understand how! but i’m completely happy about that given the fact that i spoiler myself on every single book i read by reading ahead like an idiot..

how much do you want to bet that it was the inn keep who called the ambulance and not those fuckers? because of course henry, dead henry’s more important than slowly dying, almost dead but not quite richard.

despite everything, it sounds like he had a nice summer in brooklyn. good for him. god knows he deserved it, the poor guy.

yeah no, fuck henry’s post-mortem hero narrrative.

lol, at least he got a nice car out of it. this book shows me once again that things happen just the way they should happen.

OH MY FUCKING GOD NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT READ. I DO NOT SEE. I REFUSE TO COMPREHEND THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION.

i will not say a WORD on this, much less his letter. i am hurt, i am wounded, i am grieving, my head is full of thots and i cannot speak. i died on this bed.

ugh [*rolls eyes*] this fucking guy again with his sudden, out of my ass declarations of love towards camilla. JUST GIVE IT UP ALREADYYYYYYYY!!! TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES!!! (francis) i wouldn’t be surprised if she was married or engaged and just didn’t bother to mention it ‘because he never asked’ or some bullshit excuse like that.

I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY [*deep breath*] I FUCKING HATE HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s telling me about all these people and where they ended up after graduation but not only do i not give a single solitary fuck, i actually don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about?? like who the fuck is bram guernesnesnica? rooney wayne? what the fuck do i care what jack jud and frank did?

the only people i do remotely care about are the professors (the saucy french teacher and the boring, senile dude who wouldn’t shut up and who kept referring to richard as ‘jerry’ in his grad school recommendations letter ahahah that is the content i signed up for, not dumb and dumber’s bar or whatever) and the cat charles left at francis’ country house who lives in a ten fucking room apartment in boston.

love how ionic the whole marion storyline turned out to be. marred another corcoran who looked just like bunny and had a daughter who, despite having her and his mother’s name ended up being nicknamed also bunny. i’m sorry, i just—i have to laugh.

[*slams fists on the table*] THE AGENTS??? YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME ABOUT THE BLOODY FBI AGENTS???!!!!!! CAN THIS BOOK PLEASE JUST FUCKING END ALREADY??????!!!!!!!!

a dream. a dream. if it’s a dream of henry i will personally shoot you and make sure i aim a little higher than your abdomen this time.

[*shoots the book*]

oh, you died and suddenly you have a sense of humour?

‘that information is classified’ [*shoots a torpedo at the book*]

‘are you happy?’ / ‘not very.’ vs ‘are you happy here?’ / ‘not particularly.’

okay. so. final thoughts: fuck this book.

good night

[crashclatterbang]

Six - Jane Seymour Edition (Part 3)

Jane is used to being the person everyone goes to for help. She has a way about her that immediately puts people at ease without her meaning to. Sometimes Jane thinks that her gift might be more of a curse - especially at 3am with an English paper due tomorrow that she hadn’t even started yet. 3am and Jane is hyped up on far too much sugar in an attempt to pull her first all-nighter (“Baby’s first steps,” Anne had teased on the group chat, a message to which Jane had awkwardly responded with a laughing emoji) and Kitty Howard is phoning her. Jane sighs under her breath and picks up the phone.

“Bunny!” Kitty howls down the phone and Jane nearly drops it, frantically burrowing herself and the phone below her duvet to prevent Kitty’s voice from waking up her roommate.

“Kitty, what’s wrong?” Jane hisses, trying hard not to sound as annoyed as she feels. She hears movement from the other room and her roommate’s irritated huffing and ducks down further under the duvet like a little kid trying to hide from the monsters. Not that her roommate is a monster, of course, but... Well. She’s got a temper.

Kitty’s crying brings Jane back to the phone call she’s trying to conceal, her words lost beneath her sobbing, and despite herself Jane feels her heart melt.

“Do you want me to come over?” Jane asks quietly and Kitty sobs out an affirmative.

Jane sighs, promises Kitty she’ll be there in ten, and disconnects. She crawls out from under the covers and sighs again, this time in relief, as the cool air in her room hits her face. Usually the cold isn’t a good thing but right now she’s too hot from her duvet diving to care as she burrows into her wardrobe to find something to wear, only coming up with one of Aragon’s hoodies that she borrowed and never gave back and a too-big pair of jeans that she doesn’t remember owning. Simultaneously trying to get out of her pyjamas and into her mismatched clothes proves difficult but Jane manages it and heads out of the door, nimbly avoiding the creaking floorboards and picking up her designated Heartbroken Friend bag from it’s hook. However, it turns out all her sneaking was in vain as she literally runs into her roommate Chloe outside.

“Next time you try to sneak out, be more subtle about it.” Chloe practically snaps, arms folded over her chest. She looks so much better in designer pyjamas than Jane could ever look and Jane feels herself wilting.

“Don’t be horrible, Chlo,” another voice pipes up and both Jane and Chloe whip around to the door of Chloe’s room which is now filled with the figure of Chloe’s girlfriend Brooke. “You’re meant to be working on that, remember?”

Chloe’s face softens in the way it only ever does for Brooke and she turns back to Jane, forced smile pasted on her face. Jane gives her an awkward smile in return and ducks around her before this can turn into a Thing. She’s not about to be late to Kitty’s now.

Jane finally makes it to Kitty’s dorm building after dodging rowdy groups of drunks and at least five girls crying on the edge of the pavement. On the stairs up - the lift’s broken again - Jane mentally prepares for what she’s going to say and decides to do more cardio so she’ll actually be able to make it up the stairs without dying next time. When she reaches Kitty’s dorm she knocks on the door loudly to be heard over the sounds of death metal blaring from the room next door, mentally reassessing her decision to do cardio. By the time Kitty opens to door, eyes red rimmed with mascara trailing down her cheeks, Jane’s decided cardio’s not for her after all. All of her carefully planned speeches evaporate as Kitty howls at the sight of Jane and practically throws herself on her.

“He broke up with me!” Kitty gasps out through her renewed tears.

In the privacy of her own head Jane grouchily tries to remember the name of Kitty’s latest fling, grumbling over being woken up at 3am for another one of the dramatic breakups that Kitty seems to go through every other week. As Kitty still clings onto her like a monkey Jane steers her through the doorway and into her room which always seems to be ridiculously messy no matter how much Kitty claims she cleans it.

“I thought this one was different!” Kitty sobs out, plucking a clean tissue somewhere from the mess on her bed. Jane shakes her head sympathetically and makes all the appropriate cooing noises as Kitty seems to cry herself out again.

“You’re such a good friend, Bunny,” Kitty says as she disappears into the bathroom to wash off the mascara still streaking her cheeks and Jane smiles at her.

She’s always the good friend, to all of her friends, and even to the people who she privately thinks doesn’t deserve kindness. Like Henry. Jane’s mood, already tested from the late (or is it early?) hour, sours further and she feels her nearly infinite patience slipping away from her. She leans back over Kitty’s bed, careful to avoid the mountains of tissues and feels the blood rush to her head as she tips herself upside down off the side of the bed. From this angle she can only really see the wall but somehow it’s calming. Right up until, of course, Kitty comes prancing back into the room, face now clear of mascara trails. Jane nearly flings herself right side up, swaying slightly as she reorients herself.

“Jared matched with me!” Kitty practically coos, waving her phone in the air delightedly.

Jane can’t even find in within herself to be irritated, instead giving Kitty a smile as she goes on about another boy who will, inevitably, break her heart. And inevitably, Jane will be around to pick up the pieces. Again and again, for as long as Kitty needs. As long as any of her friends need really. Because Jane is always the good friend, even to people who don’t deserve it.

[i-never-even-wanted-to-be-here]

I finished reading The Secret History and I'm-. (Spoilers ig)

The whole story was just miserable, I thought they'd at least have a happy ending.

I understand the hype, because it did have some magical aspects that let me transcend into a different time, however it does have a lot of flaws. Richard, the protagonist, is literally so misogynistic and I'm happy he never got a girlfriend. The girls in the story were all described in either hurtful or shallow ways that did them no justice at all. He talked badly about his ex, Kathy (?), and admitted to have been thinking about raping Camilla. Also, Judy, the real mvp of the story, was only mentioned as one of those "other girls", which is unnecessarily insulting.

Romance, if there was even supposed to be any, was un-shippable.

The friendships between the characters were equally bad, I never felt a true connection to any of them tbh. However, that probably wasn't what Donna Tartt tried to achieve with this book anyway. I had hopes for some deep friendships and perhaps a found- family- trope since none of them seemed close to their actual families. Instead I as well as Richard got deceived by all of the characters.

Every one of them was flawed, which isn't bad since flawed characters are more realistic, but their abusive, condescending, if not straight up narcissistic behaviour was not appealing. Sure, I loved the murder plot, it was the best thing imo, but how they treated even each other disgusted me.

The only main character who I don't think badly of is Francis. If he did anything wrong then it escapes me right now but I don't really think he's ever really done any shameful thing. I even think that him and Richard had more potential as a couple than any of the others and I don't just say that because they'd be mlm.

Certainly I liked the Greek and Latin a lot. That's always fun to read about and translate in fiction! The general writing style was seriously marvelous.

I really have no idea what to think of Julian. I understand the appeal of his teaching methods but sometimes he gave me weird vibes. Obviously he was irresponsible.

Henry seems overrated to me. The fandom thinks he's the epitome of the dark academia aesthetic and that might be true, however, he's also a bad human being and shouldn't be seen as an icon. I had hopes for him and Richard to become good friends but apparently Henry felt nothing for Richard and only manipulated him.

Charles had quite a strong personality too. I was shocked when he just kissed Camilla. This whole trope was quite disturbing to me but I came around ig. Anyways, in the end when he tried to kill Henry I was disappointed. I kinda understand because he felt threatened but it just wasn't the smart move. I also had the naive hope that maybe the cat he adopted would give him some sense of responsibility and will to fix his life. (That's what my cat did for me)

Camilla has always been the sweet, smart girl but I feel like she lacked profound personality. I'm immensely happy she turned Richard down tho. His feelings for her never seemed genuine. I preferred her with Henry.

I don't suppose I have to say anything about Bunny but I'll say this one thing: Homophobic, manipulative, ungrateful piece of shit. Don't know how they put up with him so long, I would've dumped him ages ago. And don't tell me it's difficult to avoid a classmate when you're in a class of only five to six (5-6) students. My Greek class also only consisted of five (5) students and I only really talked to one (1) classmate.

In conclusion, I enjoyed the book- it didn't make me emotional or jump up in ecstasy, but it conveys a vibe, an aesthetic and meaning.

@ the fandom, I wished you would meme a bit more. I know that's not a dark academia thing to do but I need some nice textposts and incorrect quotes to laugh at. I'm not creative enough to come up with them myself lmao.

[burning-up-a-sun]

Hospital Gardens

Pairing: Richard x Francis (A Secret History)

Word Count: 3270. 

Warnings: TW suicide mentions. Otherwise just general angst? 

On the third day of my stay in Boston, the rain finally let up. In it's place, the sky was a concrete grey, littered with a careless spread of nonthreatening cloud, and the flowerbeds which surrounded the Brigham and Women's Hospital was thick with mud.

I found Francis sitting by the small window of his room on the first floor, looking out onto the gardens beneath. I had walked through them on the way in - they were pretty, in a neat and orderly sort of way, something Francis never liked. He was chaos in human form, the cold exterior of an intellectual but on the inside there was a hurricane of disorder and emotion such as he would never admit. It was beautiful in the way that a volcanic eruption is beautiful when seen from far away. The beauty of danger when you are not susceptible to it, of another's pain that you can never share.

"Richard, you're back." he seemed to say it more as a statement, something that he already knew and had had no doubt about, which was probably a reasonable reaction seeing as I had visited twice a day without fail. It was inexplicable, that invisible force which pulled me to his bedside, to the grim, unchanging scene that I had seen before and knew I would have time to see again. When I really thought about it, there was no question about me going away; it seemed the most certain thing that I had ever known, that I would stay here with him for as long as he would have me, for there was no other place for me to go. It was as though the rest of the world had fallen away with the letter he had sent, and only this room and this sick, unfamiliar man remained. These sick, unfamiliar men.

"The rain's cleared up,"

"So it has," he murmured, lifting his face to look up to the dull grey sky and smiling as though that wan sun which shone upon his gaunt face were some forgiving goddess, the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen.

"I thought maybe we could go for a walk, if you felt up to it. Talk a little,"

"What is there to possibly talk about. You know, the world seemed to stop turning entirely when you went away," he looked down again, his smile growing wistful and elusive, and it was clear that he would not tell me what he meant by this.

"And yet so much has changed." I made a sweeping gesture at the hospital room and his expression grew clearer and sadder, as though this blissful fantasy of his had been shattered, and the cruel blade of reality come rushing in to fill the wound it had left behind.

"Oh, this? This is just... was just... It's over now, Richard. That's all that matters. You're here again,"

But even as he said it he sounded unconvinced, as though he was speaking to himself instead, spinning still more of his empty promises.

"Let's go for a walk, yes, that sounds splendid," he spoke quickly, rising to his feet and looking around the room in increasing discontent for a coat which was not there. I shrugged off my own and held it out to him, and he pulled it on without a word. The silence was thick with his lack of commentary about my own lack of style, and I thought I rather missed it. This was not the man I knew. But then again, I was not the man I knew three years ago, either, nor indeed the man I could say I knew now.

We made our way down the sterile corridors, Francis gripping my arm tightly with shaking fingertips, and into the large metal elevator at one end. Standing in the elevator, I glanced over at Francis' reflection in the polished metal sides. He seemed shorter than I remembered, shrunken and out of place in his ill-fitting hospital clothes. Gone was the extravagant scholar that I remembered, and in it's place a quiet, weakened figure, almost pathetic in his vulnerability. And yet his mind seemed still to be his own, his speech indicative of the same startling intellect, only now hidden away and kept silent. He seemed unhappy, in a way that no one could cure.

Stepping out of the elevator and through the glass back doors of the hospital, we were met with a rush of wind which chilled me to the bone and prompted Francis to pull the coat tighter against his chest. It was strange, seeing him in my clothes, and my mind was filled with the memory of a night so many years ago, when he had kissed me and there had been no part of me that had wanted him to stop. I wondered if that had changed at all by now, reassured myself that it had, knew that it had not.

We walked in silence for a minute or so. Then, as we were nearing the edge of the garden, where the ivy climbed in glossy green spiderwebs up the worn stone walls, he stopped and, resting his hand lightly on my arm, gestured for me to stop too.

"Why are you here,"

"You sent me that letter. I thought you were dead."

"Why are you really here, Richard,"

"I... I have no idea." I admitted, looking down at the ground by my shoes. A few tangled daisies wound up through the mud and soaked grass, and I realised that Francis was barefoot. He walked as though he had not realised this, and I could not bring myself to tell him. He had all the insincere confidence of a sick man who is convinced that he is better.

Lifting my head after a moment to look at him, I was met with those sparkling green eyes, the eyes that I had fallen in love with three years ago. No. The eyes that I had envied, in a very heterosexual way.

"It's as you said, I fear. Everything has changed so irrevocably, yet still you and I are snatching at the strands of the past. Quite poetic, isn't it?" his voice had grown low and quiet, his words slipping back into that customary tangle of poetry and prose that I had so long associated with Francis, with home. Something about this return of the man I once knew seemed to ease my mind a little.

"I heard from Charles and Camilla the other day, actually. They sent their condolences to my family. I suppose they don't know yet that I survived. I can't quite bring myself to tell them - they sounded so happy when they wrote. I suppose one should be, when one's deep dark secret was drawn still further from the light of day. Another mouth sealed, that's what's important."

"You're what's important, Francis,"

"Always so sweet, Richard. You know, I think you love me more than my wife does. Poor Priscilla, I feel I am too hard on her. She's sweet, she really is, and she means well, only she's so dreadfully vapid. It rather makes me want to kill myself, trying to hold a meaningful conversation with her."

"I was wondering what on earth had made you fall in love with her, of all people. I thought you might still be ill," I teased, but Francis flinched and his eyes clouded over with pain.

"I didn't fall in love with her." he spoke softly, sadly, and behind his words there was a meaning which I could not quite grasp, but which seemed in that moment the most important thing in the world.

"But I thought you were going to marry her?"

"I am, and that's exactly the problem."

"Francis, what are you doing?"

But the man who walked beside me seemed no longer to be Francis at all. When I turned my head to look at him, all I was met with was the worn, pathetic frame of a man who had had it all and thrown it all away. In his eyes there was an expression that I had seen before, in the fleeting glimpses of Henry's body as it fell lifeless to the floor. It was as though he was already dead.

"What I have to do, Richard. To tell the truth, I'm just facing the consequences of mistakes I made long ago. I fell in love, and that will be the death of me."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I told myself that I was simply surprised. Francis had never been the sort of person to fall in love. He had that easy tenderness that can never be found in one who saves their heart for loving one person. I thought he might possibly be lying, and part of me didn't want to know who this chosen person was, still the rush of intrigue had wrapped around my chest and pulled tight, and I knew I had no choice.

"Who?"

"I think you might already know," the corner of his mouth quirked up in an elusive smile, and I fell quiet, trying to place a face on this shadowy figure. Charles? Probably not. Camilla? Due to obvious reasons, this was extremely unlikely. Henry? The two had always seemed to respect each other, beneath the customary mask of indifference, but it had never seemed anything more than platonic. Bunny? I almost laughed. If he had loved Bunny, he would likely not have helped to kill him.

That left only me.

"The past is never lost entirely, Francis."

"Isn't it? Even now, I am resigned to the fact that I shall probably spend the rest of my life locked up in some country mansion with a vapid wife and far too many vapid children. I had my chance at happiness, and I wasted it on a man who never noticed how I felt." He laughed bitterly, and above him the sun passed behind a cloud, shrouding the garden in a veil of blue and grey.

Francis began to walk away, back towards the hospital, but I gripped his arm tighter.

"Francis, wait," I called half-heartedly, and he stopped but did not turn.

"No, it's my fault, I shouldn't have called you here. I've wasted your time, I see that now. You can leave now, I think I'm almost better." a raindrop fell upon his tousled red hair, then another and another, until the rain was coming at a gentle, steady pace. And then, at last, he turned his head to face me, water running down his cheeks and cutting through the smooth, pale skin. "I'll give your love to Priscilla."

"Or you could keep it all for yourself. I wish you would, it's why I'm here, after all." I shrugged hopelessly, rain running down the back of my neck in warm, languid rivulets.

"Richard,"

"Francis."

Not entirely sure what I was doing, or why my heart was burning fervently inside a chest that was too tight for me to breathe properly, I followed him. I stopped only inches away from him, close enough to feel his ragged breaths. Leaning in, our foreheads resting against each other, the raindrops falling down our faces and the tear drops from his glistening eyes merged into one winding river down my shirt. Francis reached up a hand tentatively, the cotton bandage at the wrist brushing against my cheek, tracing the line of my cheek-bone with shaking fingertips.

Around us, the rain grew heavier, falling in slanting sheets of shattered silver upon the blurred garden where by now there was no one to be seen. But my eyes never left his, gazing up in rapture that I had not known I had inside of me.

And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he bridged the gap between us. His lips met mine and the world was white, and simple as though there was nothing in it but us. It was strange - the last time I had seen him I had been so sure that I knew everything, and only now was I realising that in truth I knew nothing at all. In my mind I chased the words for what it was I was feeling, and never quite caught up. This was not love, and yet I had no desire to move away. And in this way we remained for an eternity of seconds, and when at last he pulled away to breathe, my eyes stayed closed, lingering on the threshold of that unattainable bliss.

"Francis," I whispered breathlessly, as much to myself as to him.

"You can't stay,"

"Can't I?"

"Richard, I..." but already he was stepping back, away from me, his voice breaking and his eyes filled with pain.

"Come back to Brooklyn with me, Francis please. Run away with me, let's disgrace your family,"

"You know I love you,"

"Then come with me. Don't do this again. It doesn't have to be that way again," I was pleading now, gripping his hands between my own like he was the final lifeline I had to that glorious past which had so long seemed lost. I knew it was hopeless; the dreams of only a moment ago had been shattered irreparably, and I was left standing in the ruins of this grim reality.

"It does... Oh, Richard, I wish..."

But behind the raindrops which were pouring down my face, the tears were beginning to pour. And there he stood before me, white hospital clothes clinging to pale skin and the bandages on his wrists dripping water. Translucent from the water, I could see the outlines of two mismatched scars showing through the fabric, and my heart ached to see this, the man I loved, so utterly destroyed. After everything, after coming so far just to see him, after trying so hard to find in him the old Francis, my Francis, I was only now beginning to see that he was not there at all. Behind those emerald eyes, the ghost of the man I once knew was fast disappearing, swallowed up by the pathetic man in front of me. It was enough to make me cry.

There comes a point in every childhood where you must concede the childish trait of crying and screaming until you get your way, and take up in its place the adult acceptance that you must let it pass you by for another to keep. As I stood looking on at Francis, this realisation struck me with all the comfort of a poisoned dagger. He was not mine, and never would be, for in the end we were just boys playing House, and soon one of us must find a wife.

And so I forced myself to fake a weak smile, and let his hands drop heavily to his sides.

"It's okay,"

"It's not okay. It'll never be okay,"

"No, but that is the way all good things must be. Francis, I understand now, and I... I wish you the best. You deserve the best,"

"I deserve you, and that is all I could ever ask for. Richard, I wish... You know, before this week I was so sure that I could do this. I thought maybe if I never heard from you again, just maybe I could learn to be content with her. I was wrong. We both were. She deserves better than me, because now I know for sure that I can never love her quite as I loved you." His voice cracked, thick with emotion, and it took all the strength I had within me to keep up my smile, to rest my hand on his back and tell him that he would in time. To tell him that perhaps it would be better if I left now, and if we never saw each other again. The pain was worse than anything that I had ever felt before, and all I could think of was how cruel it was. To give me a glimpse of a love I had never thought possible, to show me a universe of joy and certainty, and then to steal it all away again. To leave me face to face with the only thing I wanted, and the only thing I knew I could never have.

It was only later, as I left the hospital room and stood with my forehead pressed against the cold white tiles of the corridor wall, eyes squeezed shut to hold back tears that were no longer there, that I heard him cry at last. And that was all that I could take. I wanted nothing more than to run back to him, to hold him in my arms and promise him that I would never leave. Instead I lifted my head and walked away, back through the front door of the hospital, back to the neat row of yellow taxi cabs at the curb.

Sitting alone in the backseat of the cab, I watched the hospital retreat behind me, and with it the stain of wet red hair watching from the upstairs window.

_______________________________________________________________________________

It was only in the glacial winter that came four years later that, sitting among the precarious piles of paperwork stacked up on my desk and sorting the letters that had come in the mail that morning, that I saw again that familiar handwriting. Running my fingers over the sharp, stiff edges of the envelope, I was half-tempted to put it back, or to burn it. Either way, I knew deep down that this was news that I did not want to know.

Staring down at the spidery handwriting and the faint outline of a hospital logo on the paper, my heart was heavy, my eyes dry. I would not cry; there was a time when I might have, but that had long since passed. Instead I peeled open the envelope with leaden fingers and drew out the letter inside. I held it close to my chest, closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and then out again. Every fibre in my body screamed at me to put it back, to get up and walk away and life as though it had never come at all, but even then I knew there was no other way.

I almost hated myself. For letting my guard down, for falling in love with this quixotic whirlwind of a man. For going to see him, for meeting him at all, for being the sort of person who falls so hopelessly in love with all the things that time can touch.

And in those cold black letters, I hated him too, and all his broken promises.

No adjectives, no promises in those melancholy words. The eloquence that I had been so unnerved to recognise in the letter that had come so many years before was gone. The Francis I knew was gone.

My head dropped, hit the desk, sending paper whirling through the air as I pressed my face into one hand, and with the other crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball. Threw it across the room, eyes burning with anger and, behind it, a sadness as though all of my life had fallen away before it. I wanted to break something, to scream so that all of the city could hear me and feel it too, but I could not breathe, could not move, could not speak.

"Francis," my voice came out a hoarse whisper, as I traced the spidery handwriting on the envelope with a trembling fingertip.

"There was no other way."