#although I had to physically stop myself from giffing more

[kimtaegis]

"guys, you're my headliner"

SEVENTEEN @ LOLLAPALOOZA BERLIN 2024

[professorsnape394]

DAY 1 - The Warmth of a Good Woman

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Warmth

Summary: Severus can't stop thinking about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

A/N: Joining the party a little late but thought I’d give this another go after a longgggg hiatus from this blog.

Warnings:  Semi-naked woman?

Word Count: 2133

Credits to Gif Creator.

Not much had changed for Severus in the years since the Second Wizarding War. Yes, the Dark Lord had been defeated and everyone had lost a few friends along the way but ultimately Severus remained in the cold dark of the dungeons grading the papers of Hogwarts students until all hours of the night.

The flicking light of the many candles had dimmed, and the brisk night air was finally starting to get to him. His sallow skin had turned icy and his nose was numb to the elements from being exposed for so long. With a heavy sigh he promised himself he would make his way through one final stack of papers before turning in for the night, distracting himself with his thoughts hoping to speed up the process.

Although his work took its toll on him both physically and mentally, Severus hadn’t chosen to give it up in the aftermath of the war. While he took a short sabbatical to recover from one very nasty snake bite, he soon found himself bored and without purpose now that his reign as double agent was made redundant.

Minerva welcomed him back to Hogwarts with open arms, once again allowing him to do the one thing that truly brought him joy in life, enriching the minds of young witches and wizards through the art of potion making. The professor had never been more thankful of this decision than the day Headmistress McGonagall announced the newest defence against the dark arts professor. She was young and extremely attractively. But she was more than that. There was an aura about her, a positive energy that illuminated every room she entered. With a new outlook on life, Severus allowed finally himself to appreciate the young woman for what she was, a blinding light in his all-consuming darkness. For the first time in his life Severus considered the possibilities a woman like this presented.

Puffing out a breath, watching it turn to smoke as it hit the air, Severus’ mind wandered to the first few weeks of the new teacher’s arrival. While he had allowed himself to admire her from afar, it came as a shock to Severus to find the young witch knocking on his door the following morning, keen to introduce herself.

Sleep deprived and still feeling groggy from his abrupt awakening Snape couldn’t help his old personality from slipping through, despite his conscious efforts to improve himself.

“What do you want.” He grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I disrupted you, Sir – “

“You did.” He interrupted.

“My apologies. My name’s Professor Y/L/N I’m the new defence against the dark arts teacher.”

“I am aware. What I do not know if why you are at my chamber door at 6:30 in the morning.”

“I realise it’s early and this might not have been my best idea, but I wanted to introduce myself to all the faculty before breakfast and as you are the one which I am most eager to meet I thought I’d make this my first stop.”

“How privileged I am.” He couldn’t help himself from moaning. “I’m Professor Snape.”

“Yes, I know” She beamed. Snape was damned if her gleaming smile didn’t melt the ice in heart just a little. “Your contribution to the fight against you-know-who is legendary. Everyone knows who you are. But only a few have the privilege of meeting you. I’m just so glad I get to be one of those select few.”

“I do not respond well to flattery, Miss Y/L/N.” Snape could feel himself growing more uncomfortable by the moment. He didn’t enjoy talking to people he did not know, though even worse than that he loathed people bringing up the part he played in the wizarding wars. They always made him out to be some sort of hero type, that everything he did was brave and completely selfless. This he did not agree with, and therefore chose not to engage with the topic if he could avoid it.

“I’m sorry professor. The main reason I wanted to speak with you this morning was to ask if you had any advice for me.”

“Advice?” His eyebrow quirked up instinctively.

“I’m new to teaching.” She begun to explain. “And more than that I haven’t half the experience in the field of the dark arts that you do. I was hoping we could work together, maybe like a tutoring type of relationship, allowing me to gain some insight on the reality of the subject. All my knowledge is theoretical. I believe it would help the children if they had some real-life skills that they could apply to help them in the future.”

“Theoretical knowledge is all the students shall need. There is no great force of evil out there, the Dark Lord is dead and the Death Eaters have been disbanded. I do not wish to engage with the subject. It is not my job to tutor you. And I do not want to be bothered in my private quarters before the work day. Now goodbye, Miss Y/L/N.”

Y/N could tell she had struck a nerve with Snape, as his face turning a burning shade of red at her request and his chamber door slammed hard in her face, all the while she stood there confused. He wasn’t nearly the heroic selfless man the rumours described. In fact, he was one of the rudest men she had ever encountered. But there definitely was something intriguing about him.

The newest professor did not take no for an answer that first day, and continued to pester Snape with her antics every day after. From baking him cookies, to showing up at his office with a handful of textbooks, the witch was relentless in her pursuit. Though gradually it began to morph from a want of knowledge in the dark arts, to a peaked interest in the man himself. From Snape’s perspective he couldn’t tell whether she was trying to study the man or become his friend, either way Severus was not interested in the slightest.

The professor couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, causing another bought of fog to emerge from his mouth. From day one she had always been a pest, annoying him to no end to get whatever she wanted. He remembered the day he finally caved to her demands.

She had once again turned up at his office, this time after classes had commenced. She hadn’t brought any weapons of manipulation and had yet to mention her plan to collaborate with him. She simply sat in a chair opposite him rambling on about a student in one of her classes who hadn’t quite perfected a spell needed to pass the first assignment of the year.

“Anyway, I’ve tried literally everything with him and he just doesn’t seem to get it. He’s the only one in the class too or I’d be doubting myself, you know, but honestly, he just seems to have the worst luck because I know he’s trying but at this rate I’m scared he’s going to set my classroom on fire when all I’m asking for is a simple flame! I think I’m going to have to switch up my tactics again because I refuse to give up on him.” She huffed.

 It dawned on him that this would have been perfect ammunition to guilt him into helping her and her students out, but it seemed this thought had yet to occur to Y/N. Snape wondered if she had truly given up on her quest to get him to help her. If he remembered correctly, it had been a few weeks since she had even brought the subject up. Yet she stilled turned up at his office every day to talk about the most mundane stuff. Y/N didn’t seem to mind that Snape so rarely contributed to their conversations, only offering a nod or a small comment where necessary. He expected she would have gotten bored of his presence by now considering he wasn’t exactly the most exciting man to spend time with but he was glad she stuck around. Severus had grown accustomed to her ramblings and often found himself missing her when she was not around. The thought took him by surprise, he had never dared to acknowledge he might actually enjoy this woman’s company but upon reflection his words rang true. She had embedded her way into his previously regimented routine and it hadn’t upturned his life as he had initially worried.

“I’ll do it.” He blurted, catching her by surprise.

“You’ll do what?” Y/N seemed completely caught off guard by his declaration.

So, she truly wasn’t trying to guilt me. He thought.

“I’ll help you, tutor you in some practical knowledge for you to pass on to your students.”

“You will?” She beamed.

“Yes. Though let’s pray they never need to use it.”

“Oh Severus! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squealed, jumping up from her chair and rounding the desk.

The potion’s master’s body stiffed upon impact as the young professor threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. It took a second but he eventually relaxed into her embrace, no longer denying himself the simple pleasures of affection.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled against her cheek. Amused at the thought that this simple gesture brought this woman so much joy.

“You realise this was all just an excuse to get close to you.” She giggled into his ear.

“I know.” He whispered, closing his eyes and inhaling the fruity scent of her hair.

The memory of that day cheered Severus up slightly, giving him enough motivation to finish up the remainder of his marking and finally escape the ever-dropping temperature of his office. Keeping his head down, he powered through despite his eyes drooping from the lateness of the hour.

“Don’t tell me you’re still in here marking assignments Severus.” The familiar voice drew his attention to the adjoining door. “You should come to bed, it’s late.”

His heart warmed at the prospect of her worrying about him. He never used to have anyone who cared whether he slept or not. It had taken him some time to adjust his routine to suit another person, but sometimes old habits die hard.

“I won’t be long, darling, I’m almost finished. Get out of here before you catch a cold.” He nodded in the direction of the DADA professor, encouraging her to return to their shared chambers. Never one for obeying orders, she made her way across the cold stone floor, dragging Severus’ attention to her bare feet. Despite being worried for her health, Snape allowed his gaze to trail up her seemingly never-ending legs, settling on her exposed thighs. She wore only her underwear; a labyrinth of black fabric and cross-crossing lace, not quite see through enough to give you full access to her body, but enough to entice you in. And Severus was definitely enticed. From the day she made the first move on him, Snape had struggled to deny his attraction to her. After living for so many years denying every possible pleasure, Y/N reignited his appreciation for the fairer sex in a way that no woman ever had.  

As she approached the desk, Severus could clearly see the expanse of goosebumps covering her tanned skin, already feeling the affects of the damp dungeon office.

“Here.” He said, taking off his robes and draping it over her shoulders.

“Do I repulse you so much you feel the need to cover me up?” She joked.

“You’re a distraction.” Snape said seriously, meeting her eyes. “And it’s cold. Go back to bed.”

“Not without you.”

“I don’t have much more to do, let me finish.” He pleaded, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

“You can finish tomorrow.” Severus wanted to argue with her, but ultimately, she was right. And there was almost no chance of him finishing now that she had chosen to position herself upon his desk, legs brushing against the inside of his thighs.

Severus stared up at her, wetting his lips and humming appreciatively.  

Y/N dropped the robe, allowing it to pile by her hips.

Severus succumbed to her seduction, all thoughts of marking and assignments evaporating into the night air.

“You’re freezing.” She panted, cupping Snape’s cheeks in her hands, her soft lips brushing teasingly against his own. “Let me warm you up.”

Like he said before; nothing much had changed since the Wizarding War. Except now the Dark Lord was dead. Expect now McGonagall was headmistress at Hogwarts. Now there was a new permanent DADA professor. Now he allowed himself to love. Now he had the warmth of a good woman by his side, and he didn’t plan on letting her go any time soon.

[lacefuneral]

hm. i wasnt going to post about it again but. i will. i don't want to put this in the tag but there are spoilers for the last two episodes of the pirate show. so scroll past if you don't want spoiled

but this is less a post about the show and more about. my mental episode. SA discussion tw.

ok so when i saw the episodes last thursday, i saw the implied sex scene and my sexual assault trauma got triggered. really bad. in fact so bad that it pushed me into full blown psychosis that lasted for like 12 hours. and then the subsequent days i felt residual fear.

i instinctively blocked anyone who giffed the scene in question or posted screencaps of it. or made posts celebrating it/making jokes of it. and in some cases blocked people who simply reblogged them.

i realize that people have written meta explaining "no, no really. this is consensual." but one, i don't think a piece of media should have to /require/ that sort of meta and, two, regardless of what was intended by the narrative, the direction taken in the filming of the scene /did/ trigger my sexual assault trauma. i even saw people make horrible posts like "i've seen people say this scene resembles SA to them and actually, THOSE people are spreading rape culture" ???????

anyway. in some cases, i've begun to gradually refollow people (especially former mutuals) that i blocked during my mental health episode. but i'm not quite there yet. i'm still... fragile.

now. i have encountered instances like this before. where media caused me upset (although not nearly to this degree, as this time it involved a comfort character) and like anything else that has triggered me, i've had to approach it with (controlled!) exposure therapy.

unfortunately, controlled exposure therapy would not be possible at this time, as i continue to encounter the scene against my will regardless of what website i am on (which is causing retraumatization). so, after the finale airs, i will likely need to blacklist the OFMD tag for a little while - stop going on AO3 etc. - giving me an entirely clean slate to work with.

but... yeah. i'm in a weird position where something i deeply love has become unsafe for me. where, i could not have guessed in a million years that my comfort character would violently slam his partner against the wall. no communication. no provocation. after his partner very clearly said he wanted to go slow. and that's fucking terrifying to me. i can't help but put myself in ed's shoes. because i would also want to go slow, for my own reasons. and what if my partner didn't care. just disregarded preestablished boundaries. forced himself onto me because of his own selfish desires. while i am trying to comfort him. while i open up about my childhood traumas.

it literally makes me feel physically ill. they could have framed the scene any other way. even if they were "pressed for time." what, they had time to give izzy a musical number but not enough to flesh out one of the most delicate and anticipated scenes of the entire show?

so to me, right now, that scene is my wooden shark. i do not acknowledge it as having happened. maybe that will change eventually? but i have to do that to protect myself.

and like. the response from (some) corners of the fandom to SA victims who were triggered by the ending of episode 6 is nothing short of cruel. i hope you guys learn to be compassionate to others.

[darthkruge]

Okay okay okay so imagine Reader is abducted by the separatists because she ( or nb reader ) is a very well loved member of the senate. So obviously Anakin goes to save her, but his idiot plan gets him captured as well so then it's up to Reader to talk her way out of this mess, get to her idiot boyfriend, free him and then both of them try to make it out alive. Bonus points for Obi-Wan looking very tired and sick of Anakin's ideas in the background. What do you think?

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ Rescue Operations?

Summary: After the Reader is captured by the Separatists, Anakin rushes to save her. When this doesn’t work out, the Reader has to get her and her boyfriend out of this mess. 

Warnings: Language, whump, one scene where the Reader gets beat up, Reader is a badass, Anakin is completely in love with his badass girlfriend and we love that for him

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Catherine, my love!! I’m sorry this took me so long, I have nothing to say for myself other than my poor organization skills. But I’m obsessed with this request, I hope I did it justice <3

gif credit (x)

You groaned as you opened your eyes and attempted to shake the drowsiness that seemed to cling to your very bones. You blinked, trying to get your bearings and remember what had happened. You were preparing for your speech at the Senate, trying to pass a peace treaty between the Republic and some smaller territories that were debating joining the fight against the Separatists. You’d been fighting for support for the treaty for months and you finally had the chance to give one last speech before the vote. 

You’d been pacing in your Coruscant apartment, practicing the speech for your boyfriend a million times. After you finished your recitation, you exited the room, needing to get your notes that you’d seemed to misplace. So you went into your office and… nothing.

Why couldn’t you remember after that?! You opened the door to your office, walked inside, and… 

You sighed as you came back to the present, leaning against the wall behind you and looking around. You were clearly in a cell of some sort and the Separatists were almost certainly behind this. You were still in your Senate attire, although it had been thoroughly scuffed up, and they’d taken your datapad and other communication devices. You felt around your boot and smiled. Your knife was still there. They must have assumed you wouldn’t be carrying a weapon to your speech and not done a thorough enough check. Whatever the reason, you were thanking the Maker it was still there. 

Back in Coruscant, Anakin was walking the Temple halls in a crazed state. When you didn’t show up for your speech, he immediately panicked. He knew how important this treaty was for you and the entire Republic; you’d been going over it for forever and there is no way you’d just blow it off without telling anyone. The rest of the Senate was also concerned. You’d grown up in one of the poorer districts and, thus, had a sense of relatability and humility that most were drawn to. Whether or not they agreed with your policies, almost everyone could understand that you always kept the interest of the people at the forefront of your mind. 

When Obi-Wan walked up to him with a ripped piece of your clothes and your scattered and crumpled notes, Anakin felt his heart drop. 

“It was the Separatists. They must have knocked her out in her office and escaped through the vents.”

Upon seeing his absolutely heartbroken expression, Obi-Wan added, “We’ll get her back, Anakin. I promise.”

Anakin could only nod, ideas for a plan to save you already running round his head. 

You’d been in this kriffing cell for four days now. Or maybe it was five? You were desperately trying to keep your wits about you but it was so hard; they brought you a tiny ration of food and water once a day and it was not near enough to keep your strength up. You’d spent your time trying to carve your way through the bars but your knife was no match and you quickly gave up, not wanting to dull the blade. You’d found a loose brick hidden around the floor and used the knife to cut it out, allowing you to hide your weapon under it on the off chance they searched you again. 

You tried to think of a plan to escape but they hadn’t even opened your door yet. There was no way you could get out by yourself and, until someone came in that you could attack, it was pointless to even try. They kept you in complete darkness and silence, no way to tell how much time had passed aside from the daily rations. You assumed you were on a Separatist base but that proved unhelpful; they were widespread and the cell held no defining features of climate or location. You had tried calling out to see if anyone else was around. Each time, you were met with your own echo. 

You stilled, hearing footsteps approach you. A Separatist guard opened your cell door, roughly pulling you out. You yelped, legs not cooperating after so long of sitting in the cramped cell. He led you into another room that was barely brighter than your own. Sizing up the guard, you felt fear creep in. No matter how hard you tried to banish your anxieties, knowing they’d only serve to lessen your already shaken focus, it was sometimes impossible. 

“Tell us which planets are deserting.” He commanded.

You met his stare evenly, refusing to let your fear betray you. There was absolutely no chance you’d tell him anything. As soon as the Separatists learned which planets were thinking about joining the Republic, they’d send armies to wipe them out immediately. You refused to let that happen.

“Fine. Be that way.” The man pulled his fist back and sent it into your cheek, the impact sending sparks of pain throughout your entire body. He brought his foot up, kicking you in the gut and you fell harshly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hair, hoisting up your body as if it were a ragdoll. You gathered your strength and spit in his face, enjoying the way his smug look disappeared. In retaliation, he slammed you into the wall, the impact making stars cloud your vision. 

The man released you and you fell, your consciousness already starting to detach from your body. You tried to reason with yourself, hoping logic would aid you. This is a trauma response. I’m not going to die. My body can take this. I will black out, but I will wake up again. They’re not going to kill me. They need me alive. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. Somehow, the hardest part is this was banishing the thoughts of that beautiful boy from your head. You knew that if you allowed yourself to think of him, to fathom how he would blame himself should this be your end, you would give in. 

Instead, you focussed on the physical pain you felt, on the rage you channeled to this guard. You hated how weak you felt, how exhausted you were. You allowed your mind to hone in on all the ways you could hurt this man, given you had your full strength. You let yourself hate yourself, appalled at how you couldn’t even fight back. With every punch he threw at you, you went further into your head, into the one place this man couldn’t touch. Eventually, your mind started spinning from dehydration, pain, and overexertion. All you could do was curl into a fetal position and hope it somehow stopped. 

“What do you mean you’re going to find her?” Obi-Wan said, running after Anakin.

“It’s been days, Obi-Wan, days. There are only so many Separatist bases in the galaxy and Y/N’s on one of them.”

“Anakin, don’t you think they’ve planned for a rescue mission?! This is Senator L/N we’re talking about! And they took her right before the vote, this was clearly a thought-out attack, stop acting like it’s simple!”

“It is simple! Those Separatist assholes have Y/N. And it’s been days. What if she thinks we forgot about her? What if she thinks we’ve given up? They could be doing fucking anything to her and I’m not going to let her stay there for another minute!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began but Anakin waved him off.

“I’m sorry, Master. But if the Council won’t do anything, I will.”

“Anakin, the Council is trying! They just don’t have enough troops right now to send a full rescue mission after one Senator. They just want a few more days, then some troops should be back from their missions and you can have your full battalion.” Obi-Wan took a breath and lowered his voice, empathy for his friend clear in his words. “I know you love her. I want her back, too, you know. I’ve grown quite fond of her; her friendship is quite dear to me. All I’m asking is you be careful and think this through.”

“Believe me, I have thought this through. I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger, we both know that. And while a few days doesn’t seem like much to the Council, we’ve seen the harm these Separatists can inflict in far less. Listen, it might not be the strongest plan I’ve ever made but, if it’s between a semi-formed plan and none at all, the choice is already made.”

With that, Anakin jumped into his ship and took off into the night. Obi-Wan sighed, leaning his head into his palm. He knew how much you meant to him and he knew of Anakin’s frustration with the Council. They moved slowly, wanting to figure out every angle before jumping into a decision. While Anakin was a brilliant strategist, he tended to act impulsively when someone he loved was in danger. As Anakin traveled further and further from Coruscant, the older Jedi could only hope that the both of you returned home quickly and safely. 

Anakin looked at his ship’s display and cursed when he realized he was low on fuel. He’d been piloting for hours and there was still no sign of you. He was searching out for you with the Force and, still, nothing. Finally, he felt a faint energy pulse through the Force. He followed it to what was supposed to be an old abandoned Separatist base, concerned by how weak your lifeforce felt. 

He parked the ship and got out carefully, trying not to alert anyone to his presence. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it. He saw an open door and ran through it, relief blinding him as he felt your energy grow stronger with each step he took. He turned the corner and saw a crumpled body on the floor of a tiny cell.

No, Anakin thought, it can’t be her. 

Without thinking, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, wanting to use the light to discern if the figure was truly you. The noise bounced off the walls and startled you awake. He mentally cursed himself and instinctively turned off the saber, not missing the even louder noise it made with it turned off. He inwardly facepalmed, realizing if he hadn’t alerted the guards before, they sure as hell knew now. 

You blinked groggily, wincing at your immense injuries and bruises. You remembered passing out while that asshole beat you and now you-

Wait, You thought, is that a fucking lightsaber?

You knew you must have heard it wrong, there’s no way the Council would have approved a relief mission this quickly. Further, there is no way it would consist of just one Jedi. 

Suddenly, the lightsaber re-lit, illuminating your boyfriend’s face. His determined expression grew stronger as he noticed the 10 guards surrounding him and pointing their blasters directly at his head. You smiled. He could take out ten guards with his eyes closed. You called to him in shock, hardly believing your eyes. He looked at you and immediately widened his eyes as he saw a guard come up behind you and point a blaster directly at you from outside your cell. 

“Lightsaber on the floor, Jedi, or the girl dies.” The guard growled. 

He looked at you in anguish and you could tell he was already beating himself up for “messing up” your escape plan. You shook your head, hoping he understood your message: this isn’t your fault. 

“Anakin don’t-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before his weapon was on the floor. He put his hands on his head. As they grabbed him, you stood in helpless silence as they threw him in the cell beside you. They locked the doors and, once again, you were in darkness. 

You desperately crawled to the edge of your cell, trying to reach out to him. He was doing the same and when you felt his fingertips against yours, you almost started sobbing. You weren’t alone anymore.

“You came for me.” Your voice was soft, disbelief lacing your words. 

“Of course I did, my love.”

Then, as if everything finally registered in your brain, you reached out and tried to slap his arm. “Anakin, what about the Council? They’ll kill you when they realize you went on a rescue mission, alone, and without approval! Ani, the only thing keeping me going in here was knowing that you were safe! And now you’ve gotten yourself thrown right next to me, no weapons, no light, no food, no water, no escape! What the fuck are we going to do?!”

Anakin had opened and closed his mouth multiple times throughout your speech, trying to find a way to plead his case but was left without one. 

“I just wanted to save you.” The grief in his voice made you sigh and take a step back. This was your Anakin you were talking about. Your safety was his priority, always. Besides, doing all this because he was afraid for you? You couldn’t possibly stay mad. You smiled, despite yourself. Anakin. You thought, slightly shaking your head. 

“Fuck, I love you. Is it selfish that there’s a small part of me that’s glad you’re here with me?” You said, breaking the silence. 

Anakin breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t upset with him anymore. “Not at all, my love. So long as it isn’t bad that my least favorite part of this is not being able to see or kiss you properly because of this damn darkness.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his once again. “You wouldn’t want to see me right now.”

Anakin froze. “Y/N? What are you talking about?” His voice was serious, clipped. He knew you would try and make it seem less than it was. You winced, realizing there was no way to lie your way out of this one.

“Just what the Separatists would call aggressive negotiations, I presume.”

“How bad?”

“It’s fine, Ani, I promise. Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay?”

Anakin took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Alright. But as soon as we get back you’re going to a medical droid.”

You groaned. “Anakin I hate-”

“I know you hate the medical droids. But that’s only because they always rat you out when you try and lie to me about the extensiveness of your injuries.”

“You lie about how bad your injuries are, too! Remember that one time you came back from Kamino?!”

Anakin laughed, despite himself. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You were literally bleeding from the head! And you said, and I quote, ‘it’s just a scratch’” Every time you thought back to that day, you were incredulous. 

“Alright, alright! Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“That’s my line!”

“Y/N,” He warned.

You smiled. Maker, you missed him. You honestly didn’t think that anyone else would have you laughing while you were beaten and captured. 

“Okay. What’s the plan?” Anakin said, back to the matter at hand.

You lowered your voice, leaning toward his cell so you could talk without being heard. “I snuck a knife in with me and I’ve been able to keep it a secret. Now that you’re here, it might actually come in handy. The problem was that I couldn’t stab anyone because no one would come into the cell. I need you to get them here. Push them against the side of your cell, the one closest to me, and I’ll stab them. Then while they’re hurt, you run out, unlatch my cell, and we’ll go.”

“I’m dating a fucking genius!” You could just about hear the smile in his voice. 

You smirked. All things considered, you were pretty proud of yourself. 

“When do you want to do this?”

“They bring daily food and water rations in the morning, I think? I can’t exactly tell what time it is, they’ve kept it so dark and isolated. Regardless, the next time they come by I need you to get them in here. They normally just leave the food outside and push it under the door.”

Anakin could hear the disorientation in your words and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, to be able to hold you and reassure you that it would all be alright. 

“Okay, angel. Got it.”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Always, my love.”

Both of you silenced when you heard those footsteps. You smiled for the first time as you heard them. We’re going to get out of here.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! This brick in here is loose!” Anakin announced loudly. You bit your cheek to suppress a smile as you watched Anakin catch the guard’s attention.

“What did you say, Jedi?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anakin responded, dramatically feigning innocence. 

The guard huffed and you internally cheered as he roughly opened the door. He walked over to your boyfriend, keeping the blaster pointed at him. As soon as the guard’s attention shifted to the “loose” brick, Anakin used the force to knock the blaster out of his hand and push him against the wall of the cell where you slashed his Achilles tendons. 

The guard howled in pain and you knew you had to work quickly if you were to get out of here before the rest of the Separatists found you. Anakin fumbled with the latch on your cell, the immense darkness making it difficult. Finally, he got it open and ushered you out. The both of you took off in a run and he gripped your hand with his metal one as you did so. 

You immediately stopped as you felt his hand roughly pulled from yours. 

“We’ve got you now, Skywalker” The guard said.

“Y/N, you ready?”

You blinked, unsure what he was referring to. Then, you heard an object whipping through the air and on instinct shot your hand out, catching it. You ignited Anakin’s lightsaber that he had summoned to you with the Force, it’s signature buzz making you feel powerful beyond words. 

The light caught you off guard and you squinted until your eyes adjusted. You saw Anakin held back by two guards. Hearing faint footsteps, you took off in a run. Anakin ducked as you swung wildly, hitting and taking out both guards.

“You done holding us up?” You said, extending your hand toward him once more and passing him his lightsaber. 

Anakin smiled, accepting it. “My sincerest apologies.” 

You both ran, hand-in-hand, until you finally made it to the exit.

“What?” You said, as Anakin stopped abruptly and looked at you, panicked. 

“The ship! It’s out of fuel!”

“It’s what?!”

“I-” Anakin and you stared at each other, flickers of doubt coming into your gaze. You can’t believe that you’d been able to escape for nothing. 

“Anakin! Y/N!”

You whipped your head around at the sound and were met with another ship a few meters down, Obi-Wan piloting it.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?” You and Anakin looked at each other in shock before taking off in a sprint, one guard now close behind you. 

He started shooting and Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting some of the shots. As he focused on that, you pulled your knife back out of your boot and sent it flying into the guard’s chest, effectively stopping his pursuit. 

Anakin smirked at you, awestruck. You shrugged before jumping into the ship, extending your arm to Anakin and helping to pull him up with you. You entered and immediately leaned against the wall of the ship, relief coursing through you. You laughed and Anakin joined in. He immediately pulled you into him, kissing you hard. 

He broke away from the kiss, looking at you with adoration. “You are a fucking badass!! You’ve never even held a lightsaber and between that and your fucking tiny knife you took out four guards!! I didn’t even get any! I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m a bit jealous.”

You laughed, leaning into him but wincing. As the adrenaline wore off, your pain was suddenly quite palpable. He noticed and pulled back, scanning your face and body. 

His smile fell as the extent of your injuries sunk in. Your busted cheek, scratched face, and ripped clothing that exposed some of your many bruises across your torso and limbs were overwhelming. 

“You kids alright in there?” Obi-Wan said, walking in from the cockpit. His smile died on his face as well as he took in your form.

“I’m alright, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You said dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like nothing!” Anakin shot back. 

Obi-Wan looked at you apologetically. “Anakin’s right, Y/N. Please, rest. We’ll be back to Coruscant soon.” 

Coruscant! The Senate! “My speech!! Fuck, I had to present my speech! I’ve been gone, what, a week? They’ve probably already voted, Kriff.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “They decided to suspend the vote until you were back, Senator. They truly care for you and your policies.”

Your heart swelled at Obi-Wan’s words. You looked into Anakin’s eyes and saw that he agreed with the statement full heartedly. He took your hand and gently ran his thumb up and down its back. 

“Rest, my love.” He whispered to you, coaxing you to lie down on the coach and pulling off his Jedi cloak. He wrapped it around you as a makeshift blanket, smiling as you pulled it closer to you and drifted off. 

Obi-Wan walked up to Anakin and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave her be, okay?”

“I don’t want her to wake up when I’m not here.”

The elder Jedi nodded in understanding. “She’s exhausted, she won’t awaken until we get back to the temple, I assure you. And if she does, you’ll just be in the other room.”

Anakin looked at you once more before smoothing the hair back from your face and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. He let his palm run down your cheek before he finally pulled himself away and walked into the cockpit with Obi-Wan. 

“So, how did you plan pan out?”

Anakin looked at his former Master, unamused. “I think you already know. How’d you know to come get us, anyway?”

“Well, when you didn’t come back or even attempt to contact the Council for over a day I assumed something had happened. I tracked your ship.”

Anakin nodded. “If not for Y/N, we’d probably both be dead.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I heard! Four guards?! You’ve found yourself a good one.”

Anakin smiled. No words were needed, everyone knew that was completely and utterly true.

------

if you would like to join my taglist, it is linked on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed out, it is because, for some reason, i couldn’t tag you <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @astxrias @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker 

[trumpkinhotboy]

Hanging upside down

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Genre: A tiny bit angsty, a bit of comedy, and a bit fluffy

Warnings: A little mention of blood here and there, but nothing too intense!

Rating: g

Request: Open

A/n: First Edmund fic !! At first, this was supposed to be about mister Peter Pevensie, but then I got the divine inspiration to make it all about our dear Edmund. I had fun with this! I hope you'll like it. I recommend reading it while listening to a Narnia ambiance playlist with forest sounds or something like that! Also, THERE YOU GO @imjustdreamingig I POSTED IT

** gif is not mine !!

*** ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FACE??? SO HANDSOME OMGGGG

Sometimes, being part of the royal entourage, things just get so intense that you need some time apart, away from all the agitation and emotional banter. Being so included in it, you get deeply hurt and worried when nerve-racking and atrocious situations occur. Then comes in the terrible realization that there is not a thing you can do, that you are completely and utterly helpless. Even if you would like to listen to your sheer instinct, you cannot. There are protocols, political relations, and a whole country that depends on your every action. In those situations, you are stuck with these dark feelings undermining you slowly.

This time it was Edmund; involved again in a bloody affair with the Calormene. For a moment, you all got worried it would end up badly, but he had just gotten back, victorious. You were deeply attached to every member of the Pevensie family, especially the freckled adventurous young man, although that could never be revealed. Alas, with secrets to keep and worry eating your brains out you needed to be alone, take a breath or two and forget a little about the world you lived in.

Hanging upside down, hands and arms swinging down. Hair forming a curtain of various shades around your head. You went into the woods to clear your mind, soak in the freshness of the air. There is this little spot you found with an imposing willow oak and a little river right next to it; maybe you could absorb a bit of the serenity of the woods. Everything is calm and soothing, there is not a sound to be heard.

- “Hey!”

You scream, fall quite hard to the ground, and scene.

- “Aouch.”

Trapped in your hair, you sit down, a little dizzy from falling directly on the head. Rubbing your aching elbow that is going to be badly bruised without a doubt, you hear a bright laugh and see Edmund rolling in the grass.

- “Nobody taught you that it was not ideal to creep on someone while they are hanging upside down on a tree?” you grumble.

He is still trying to catch his breath when he answers you.

- “The… question… would be… why were you hanging upside down a tree without being mindful of your surroundings? Someone with bad intention could have crept up on you!” he tries to defend himself, but you can tell he thinks this is hilarious.

- “Come on, Ed.”

- “Alright, alright, I am sorry, but you must admit it was funny.” He answers while getting up.

- “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

You check your body to see any possible injury; your knees are a little scratched, but nothing too bad, your elbow still hurts, but other than that, you are all in one piece. You try to get up while Edmund is still brushing twigs and clumps of grass off his tunic. You slowly get on your feet, but the world is spinning incredibly fast; you grab the tree beside you for balance, hoping it will calm down the revolving of the world.

- “I cannot wait to tell the oth… Y/n?” he looks up, only to see you looking at the ground, eyes wide open.

- “I don’t feel so well...” You lift your gaze to meet his, seeing triples of him dancing around.

- “You are bleeding!”

- “Mh?”

He takes a step towards you, worries written on his traits. He touches the side of your face, and you cannot help but wince at the sharp pain it triggers in you. He lifts your head, turns it on the side, and examines you quickly before declaring you should get back to the castle and maybe get a stitch or two.

- “Will you be able to walk?”

- “It is just a scratch Ed, I am not deathly injured.” You scoff, taking a shaky step before the world starts spinning again. You reach your arms out, searching for anything that could balance you out, which ends up being his hand. “I just need a little support.”

- “Why, of course.” He smiles affectionately at you.

Together you walk slowly but surely to the grand castle. Luckily, you were not that far out in the woods, so the walk is not that long. From time to time, you feel a spin of dizziness. Especially when you try to look up too fast, but otherwise than that, you are fine.

- “Why were you there alone anyway?”

- “I needed some time to myself.”

You have grown up with him, he has learned to observe you and depict your physical language. Just by the tone of your voice, he knows something is wrong.

- “Something happened?” he asks you after a second of silence.

- “No, yes, I mean no! Nothing actually happened it is just….”

His eyes are piercing right through you; his stare attentively focused on your every move. You look back at him, and all at once, the stress and anxiety you felt while he was away are rushing back into your blood. You can feel your heart tighten in your chest; what if something had happened to him? The thought of losing him, you could not bear it, it physically caused you pain. What if he had been in danger and nobody could have saved him?

- “Y/n?” He interrupts your train of thought, bringing you back to reality.

- “Sorry.”

- “If you do not want to tell me it is okay, you don't have to.”

- “No, it is just that… I was so worried Ed. I hate when you go on your own, I hate when there is no way for us to reach or help you. I hate when you are gone off like that.”

You both stopped walking; you have taken two steps away from him. You cannot hold his gaze as all the terrible scenarios start playing again and again before your own.

- “I cannot help but think about all the things that could go wrong. About the actual panic and unbearable pain, I would feel if something were ever to happen to you. It drives me crazy.” You take a deep breath, trying to block the images assaulting your brain. "I needed to take a step back. This place is where I go when it all gets too much for me.”

A deep silence sets in; you are mad at yourself for telling him about it. Each word that leaves your mouth exposes your feelings a fraction more, and you cannot allow that. You do not want to annoy him with your worries. He is a king; he has many more things to worry about than you and your feelings. It is not like it would ever stop him from doing his royal duties, and you understood that. Your behavior is childish and immature. The more you think about it, shame invades each of your cells; you should have never told him about it.

- “Edmund I…” you spin on your heels to face an Edmund that is much closer than you thought. You do feel pretty dizzy from the sudden movement, but you almost forget about it as you are taken away by the emotion in his brown eyes. Almost. You trip a little, but he is quick to catch you and stabilize you.

- “I am sorry Y/n. I did not know you felt like that.” He looks down on your linked hands. “I must admit I would go crazy too if I knew you were in danger and there was nothing I could do to reach you.” He finally looks up at your surprised face. “Stop looking so surprised. I have feelings too, I am not always the rational and practical person everyone thinks I am.” He adds with a shy smirk. You are even more astonished but dare not to say a word.

He slowly lifts his hand towards your face, his whole attention centralized on your being. Holding your breath; you do not dare to move a millimeter. His hand stops in his track as his gaze slides to the long strike of blood going down your face.

- “We, we should get back to our quarters so that we can take care of you.”

You are frozen in place, not able to grasp what was just about to happen. What would have happened? What was that? You had never noticed such depth of emotions in his eyes, but at that moment, you could have sworn it was infinite.

- “Are you ready?” he slides one hand on your back while the other grasp your hand. You nod, feeling more confused than you have ever been.

Once you get inside and head for the royal quarters you suddenly think about the blood still dripping from your left eyebrow, feeling the warm liquid sliding down your throat. You already hear Susan's reprimands when she will see your ruined dress. You cannot help a smile as you think about the weird face she always makes when she is annoyed with something. Her brows furrows and she twists her mouth in an ungraceful rictus which never fails to make you and the other Pevensies laugh.

- “What are you smiling for?”

- “Susan’s face when she’ll see my ruined dress.” You smirk.

- “What do you mean?”

You lift your head to show him the multiples streaks of blood going down your neck and onto the collar and fabric of your dress.

- “Oh no, I did not think about wiping it up.”

- “No worries, as I said, it will be fun to see Su’s face.”

He lets out a chuckle before opening the door of the room. Inside Lucy is painting by the window while Susan is reading a book near her. The two sisters instantly get on their feet when they see the scenery of Edmund supporting you, blood dripping down your face.

- “What happened?”

- “Lucy, please get some towels and the healer’s pouch. Edmund bring her on the couch.”

- “It’s not that bad Su, it’s barely a scratch, I’m fine.” You try to explain.

- “I will be determining that.” She interrupts sternly.

You sigh, knowing you will not escape this as Lucy returns with the aid kit. She starts looking at you too with concern.

- “I think it will need a stitch or two.”

- “Oh, really, guys I do not…”

The older sister glances at you with an expression that did not need any explanations; you needed to shut it. She starts preparing the supply and is still turning your head from side to side when she finally notices the bloodstains on your dress and sighs.

- “Really Ed? You could not have wiped it off? Now her new dress is totally ruined.” That is when the weird rictus and furrowed brows made their apparition.

You take a look at Edmund who is also trying his best to hold in his laughter but fails miserably when she stands there staring at him, hands on her hips.

- “And you think that is funny? You too Y/n? Lu?” she turns around to look at you and her little sister barely containing your amusement. “Maybe I should not do your stitches and ask Mr.Tumnus to do them.”

You and the two other Pevensies grimace knowing damn well that he hates to do that kind of stuff. It makes him nervous and shaky, hence making the process even more painful for the already injured.

- “Oh, please, Susan.” You shake your head while rolling your eyes which was possibly the worst idea you have ever had. The whole room took a spin and brought back the dizziness.

They all come back to you, concerned that there might be more to this injury than what they initially thought.

- “I think she might have a concussion.” Says Edmund while reaching out to you again to offer you some support.

- “How exactly did you say this happened again?” asked Susan.

- “Well, actually, it is a pretty funny story.”

He is about to tell them about your slightly embarrassing fall when the arrival of his brother in the room interrupts him.

- “What happened ?!”

He walks to you with a confused expression. Edmund is still crouching before you, examining your face. You are not even able to answer Peter’s question as you are staring into his brother’s hypnotizing eyes. All this movement makes you even dizzier but let's be honest, even if you were about to puke, you would not miss the occasion to have Edmund’s warm hands on your face. You savor this moment as best as you can, but even though this feels incredibly good, you cannot ignore the feeling of your mind looping a little and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

- “Guys, what happened?” asks Peter again.

- “She might have a concussion; I think she fell on her head, and Edmund if you, please, stop holding onto her face, I could finally stitch her up and stop this tragedy.”

- “This tragedy?”

- “The dress Pete..” murmurs Lucy.

The older Pevensie looks at your dress, at his sister, then again at you with a look of disbelief. You lightly shrug your shoulder; he's about to say something but gives up understanding that when it comes to Susan, it is a true tragedy.

All the while, Edmund finally let go of you, his cheek a subtle shade of pink. You keep looking at him with confusion in your eyes. What is going on with this boy?

It takes a minute or two for Susan to stitch you up since the wound is small. The eyebrow arch being a place where there is a lot of blood circulation, it is typical you bled a lot. As for the concussion, there is nothing to do but wait and rest, which you absolutely despise, since everyone looks at you like a minotaur had impaled you.

You now lay on the pillowy sofa in a brand-new outfit; Susan forced you out of the dress to try to wash the blood off. Lucy went back to painting, Peter watching over her, and Edmund is sitting on the end of your couch with a book in hand. As for Susan, she is about to leave the room when she suddenly turns back.

- “You never told us what happened.”

You grin and look at Edmund who's already looking at you with a beaming smile on his face.

- “Come on, tell em.”

He does with much excitement, emphasizing the comedy of your fall, but he looks so proud, and everyone is laughing, even Susan, so you do not mind and let him have his moment.

- “Alright, alright funny guy. You told your story, now leave me alone.”

You nudge him with your foot, acting falsely angry. He swiftly grabs it, adjusting it so that both of your feet lay on his lap. He keeps a smile while going back to reading his book drawing small circles on your ankles. A swarm of butterflies is assaulting your stomach, and once again, the world starts spinning; although this time it is for a totally different reason.

...

A/n: I truly hope you liked this!!💛 Once again, just a word to tell you my requests are open. Feel free to send me anything Narnia related, I would love to make your idea come to life:))

[charlythelee]

The Torch Carrier—Child of the Pyre, Child of Death

(yes, more Royalty/Fantasy AU Suga art—so sue me 😤 and apologies for the abysmal gif quality)

-> ATKB Masterpost

(and once again this is gonna be some massive spoiler for anyone actually reading this AU, but like... pls, I can't stop myself)

The Crossed Torches are an old symbol for a gateway to the realm of the dead. Karasuno in particular has a deep connection to death and its manifestation—The Angel of Death, Azrael.

Once every blue moon, the angel, who has no permanent physical form in the realm of the living, chooses to take hold in a human who then becomes their vessel. The vessel provides their body and their soul as new habitat for the angel and offers themselfe as tool for the angel should they decide to take action in the corporeal world—whenever they act, angels usually choose to modify the body of their vessel to reminiscent their ethereal form. In return for hosting the angel, the vessel can use its power and call favors from the entity.

Suga was offered as a vessel by his father, in the hopes of Areal being able to cure his sickness. Not knowing the details and conditions of vesselship, Suga accepted in the hopes of now being able to die. However, it did neither what he nor his father wanted, as vessel ship is a soul-bond under the protection of mother fate and made his live her property (so that fate alone could influence it—he can neither take his live nor can Azrael prolong it). Since then their relationship has been rocky. At first, Suga was angry at Azrael for deceiving him but eventually came to the realization that he now had to make the best of the situation—from there on he quickly learned how to call upon the angel's powers, for example by reassembling the spirits of authors of rare books and make them help him reconstruct their works, translate them from their original languages or teach him in their field of expertise. Over time, Suga has gradually grown into his role as vessel and managed to find a harmonious co-existence with the universe-shaping entity making snarky comments inside his soul. The only things they repeatedly clash over is Azrael's increasing interest in Natsu (and Daichi's adamant dislike of the entity, although Suga is more annoyed with Azrael for teasing his husband than angry).

[cherryobx]

She’s in a band//Kiara Carrera x reader

request: “hey whenever you aren't busy or anything could u possibly write a fic where the reader's in a rock band n the pogues don't know but they go to this party n she's performing some rly vibe good vocals song and that's when either jj or Kie realize they're in love w the reader? ty🥺”’

A/N: my first time writing for Kie. So feedback would be appreciated. 

summary: Sarah invites Kie to a party and she falls for the lead singer in the band that’s performing

warnings: mentions of weed and alcohol, written in third person

WC: 1474

(not my gif! creds to the owner!)

“Do you want to go to a party tonight?” Kie asked, entering the Chateau, where all the boys were currently just hanging out.

“A party? Sure, who would we be if we’d turn down a party invitation,” JJ said eagerly, speaking for John B and Pope. Although Pope seemed to be not so fond of the idea, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay, cool. It’s just that Sarah invited me and I felt like it would be weird with just the two of us so I decided to ask you to come too.”

“Sarah invited you but not me?” John B asked furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

Kiara rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself.”

“I’m gonna go get ready at Sarah’s place. Then we’ll come here and we can all go with John B’s van.”

Kie then went to Sarah’s place because Sarah had begged that she could do Kie’s makeup for the party.

Sarah was already waiting for her at the door. “Took you long enough. Hurry up now! We don’t have the whole day to just sit around.”

Kiara laughed at her. “Relax, Sarah. We’ve still got like 2 hours.”

“Only 2 hours?!” Sarah shrieked. “We’re in a time crunch.” She grabbed Kie’s hand and dragged her through the house.

“You know I can walk by myself just fine.”

“I know, I know but we really don’t want to be late. I can’t let that happen.”

Sarah sat Kie down on her bed and then walked up to her makeup drawers and started throwing things out of there onto the bed.

One hour and a half later, Sarah was done with Kie’s makeup. Luckily she had done hers before Kiara got there.

“Put these on.” Sarah shoved some clothes into Kiara’s hands and pushed her towards the bathroom to change. Kiara decided not to complain and ask what was wrong with the outfit that she was currently wearing. She didn’t want to argue with Sarah. Especially not now when they had become friends again.

When they were both ready they headed over to John B’s house, where they all sat into the van and drove to the party.

The party took place in a small crowded club-looking place. When they walked in, all they could smell was the booze and the weed. Not that they were complaining though.

There was a stage set up in the back of the room. Drums and different types of guitars were propped up against the speakers.

“What’s the stage for?” JJ asked, a blunt already between his lips. They had been there for a minute and he was already smoking.

“What do you think, dumbass?” Kie rolled her eyes but she was interested as well.

“You didn’t tell me that there’s a band playing tonight.”

“Surprise, I guess,” Sarah shrugged and pulled her over to the bar and got them drinks. The bartender didn’t ask for their IDs, which Kie found weird but assumed that the bartender didn’t really care.

When a girl walked up onto the stage, the people in the room started cheering.

“Hi, everyone!” The girl’s sweet voice caught Kiara’s attention and her eyes shot up to where the voice came from.

“I’m so happy to be here today. It’s not often that I and my band get to play outside of my basement in front of an actual crowd,” she giggled.

Kie was just staring at her. She swore that she had never seen a more beautiful person than the one standing on the stage. And her voice. She hadn’t even sung yet and Kie was enthralled by the sound of it.

“We’re going to play a few of our original songs and then a few covers if that’s okay.” The crowd cheered happily.

Her bandmates walked up to the stage as well and took their places, getting their instruments ready.

“If you know this song, sing along. If you don’t, get out. I’m just kidding! I don’t really care if you know the words or not. But enough of me talking. I’ll start singing now.”

The band started playing and the girl in the middle who was talking, the lead singer, started to sing. 

Kie placed her drink down onto a random table beside her, her eyes never leaving the lead singer. She physically couldn’t look away.

“Do you want to go stand in front of the stage?” Sarah asked, noticing Kie’s interest in the singer.

Kie was so focused on her that she didn’t even notice Sarah was talking to her. Sarah shook her a bit.

“What?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to the front.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making heart-eyes at her.” Sarah pointed at the girl. “Let’s get her to notice you.”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” Kie nervously stuttered. The thought of her seeing her freaked her out.

“Oh come on! You’re basically drooling at the sight of her.”

“Am not!”

Despite Kiara’s protests, Sarah once again dragged her through the crowd to the front. She looks even prettier up close, Kiara thought once they were there.

The band had played about 3 songs when the lead singer finally made eye contact with Kie. She almost passed out when she smiled at her.

After that, she started constantly looking and smiling at Kie. And it made the butterflies in Kiara’s stomach go crazy.

Kiara hadn’t felt like this around someone in a while, so she didn’t know how to function anymore.

“Kie, let loose. You look weird just standing there,” Sarah laughed and gave her drink to Kiara. “To ease the nerves.”

Kie drank the whole thing and a few minutes later the alcohol started to loosen her up a bit. She started dancing along to the song and even sang along when a cover she knew was played.

“And that was our last song tonight! I hope you all had a good time listening to us.” The crowd cheered once again.

“Thank you, everyone! You’ve been an awesome crowd.” And with that, she walked off the stage and disappeared somewhere backstage.

“You’ve got to go and find her.”

“No way.”

“Kie, this is your chance. You might never see her again.”

“I’ll just make a fool of myself,” Kie said, walking over to the bar and ordering some shots for her and Sarah. They sat down onto the barstools.

“You won’t, trust me.”

“How am I even going to find her?” she asked, looking Sarah into the eyes, but Sarah was looking somewhere else.

“You don’t have to. She’s coming over here.”

Kie quickly spun around and sure enough, she was walking towards them.

“Good luck, Kie!” Sarah patted her back and then scurried away.

“No, don’t leave- Hi!” Kiara greeted her as she finally reached her. “I loved your performance tonight.”

“Aw, thank you! It really means a lot,” she sweetly said. “I’m Y/N. You mind if I sit here?” 

“Yes. I mean, no! You can sit here. Definitely. I’m Kiara, but you can call me Kie. If you want to.” The butterflies in Kiara’s stomach were going crazy and she felt like she might actually faint.

“I couldn’t help but notice you in the crowd. You look absolutely stunning,” Y/N complimented her.

“Oh, uh thank you. My friend did my makeup and chose my clothes tonight.”

“Well, then you gotta thank her for me because I couldn’t stop looking at you when I was performing. You were almost too distracting for me,” she laughed.

Kiara didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Y/N asked. Kie nodded.

After a while of talking Y/N stood up. “It’s time for me to go now. We still have to pack our equipment and stuff from backstage. Hopefully, I’ll see you around sometime.” She pressed a kiss onto the corner of Kiara’s lips and started walking away.

But Kiara couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let her just walk away with the chances that they’d never see each other again.

“Hey, wait!” Kie ran after her. Y/N turned around, smirking.

“Can I get your number?”

“I was getting scared you wouldn’t ask,” she laughed and pulled out a pen from her pocket. “Your hand, please.”

Kie stretched out her arm towards her. Y/N took Kiara’s hand in hers and kissed her knuckles before writing her number onto the back of her hand. Kiara felt her skin tingle under her gentle touch.

Then Y/N raised her own hand to her ear, making a phone shape, and mouthed. “Call me.” And with that, she left.

Kiara stood in the middle of the club, a dumbfounded smile on her face. She couldn’t believe that all of that had just happened.

When she walked up to her friends, she sat beside Sarah behind their table. 

“I think I’m in love.”

taglist: @www-imbored-com @delightfullynlove @tomhardybby @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @ilovejjmaybank @allycat449-blog @teenwaywardasgardian @copper-boom @canibeoneofthepogues @ifilwtmfc @bedazzledbanks @jeyramarie @themaddies-obx @pink-meringues @freddymaybank @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @j-j-may-bank​ @canyoubuymetoast​

[7-wonders]

Circling the Drain

Summary: It's a race against time...wait, why do people say that? It's not a race against some outside force, it's a race against a crazed back-from-the-dead mafioso with a vengeance.

Word Count: 3454

A/N: I tried something a little different for this chapter in terms of formatting, mainly because there was so much I wanted to fit in different POVS. Uhhhhh let me know your thoughts and like, comments and reblogs make my world go round. ALSO that second gif is exactly how I imagine a certain scene (you'll know it when you read it).

Warnings: Very torture heavy chapter. Blood, torture methods, guns, knives, kidnappings, talk of death. You should probably go pet some puppies or kittens after you read this.

Previous chapters of Memento Mori: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Duncan

It’s difficult to know how much time has passed since Duncan was last outside of this small concrete room. There’s no windows to let light in, no clocks to denote the hour, and no sort of schedule that he can catch on to. Although, even if there were a schedule, he would be too delirious from sleep deprivation to realize that there was one. The only thing that Duncan can count on is the unending torture at the hands of his uncle.

All of the crisis training in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for the physical and mental torture that he’s been put through. Though he doesn’t know it, it’s been almost seventy-two hours of this absolute hell, of Bill beating him black and blue, taunting him, slowly ripping out fingernails one by one (somehow, he still has six, though one of the six is just barely hanging on), refusing to let him sleep, and tasing him back to consciousness whenever he tries to close his eyes. This most recent time, the throbbing of his head had begged him enough to where he finally closed his eyes, only to be jolted up with a rush of electricity running through his body and seizing his muscles.

“You still think you’re getting out of it that easy, huh? That you can fall asleep and bide your time until you’re ‘rescued?’” Bill chuckles. “No, it’s not that easy.”

“Just kill me already, if that’s what you’re planning on,” Duncan says through clenched teeth, glaring up at Bill through the one eye that’s not completely swollen shut.

“Is that what you want? You want me to kill you?” His obviously-fake concern would enough to make bile rise in Duncan’s throat, if he had actually had anything left in his stomach.

“You want me to beg for it, don’t you?”

“I guess I underestimated you. Turns out you do have some sort of critical thinking skills.”

Duncan defiantly turns his head, refusing to give Bill what he wants. Realizing this, Bill begins to walk towards the door. As he does, going to flick off the single light bulb in this place, Duncan’s chest tightens in anticipation of the claustrophobia he’ll surely begin to feel (most likely a side-effect of what he’s gone through, considering he’s never been scared of dark spaces before) and he scrambles to stall him. “So why are you keeping me alive?”

Bill stops for a moment before slowly turning around. “I already told you.”

“No, I know that you want revenge. But what’s your plan? Why waste your time? Surely you’ll at least give me the honor of knowing what I’m dying for?”

His jaw clenches, not pleased with that last question, but he doesn’t hit Duncan. Yet. “I’m taking back what’s mine, and then some.”

“And you think Mom’s going to be okay with that?”

“Your poor mother is going to be more than okay with that when she finds out that the Coven killed her only child.”

Slowly, it dawns on Duncan. “You’re the one that’s been killing people in the Coven’s style and leaving them in our territory?”

“Of course I am!” Bill holds his arms out as if to say ‘tah-dah!’ “Cordelia Goode would never be so bold as to do that! But after I kill you, drain you of your blood, cut your tongue out, dump you in the Potomac, and reappear into society, people won’t care about that little fact. Especially after I reveal that it was the Coven that prompted me to fake my own death and go into hiding for years.”

“How long were you planning this?”

“About a year before you stabbed me, when I realized that you were far too…” he grits his teeth, “charismatic to not end up with the family business eventually. That’s why I always made sure that the police and paramedics were well-paid, just in case the day ever came that I needed them to lie on my behalf.”

“You have it all planned then, so why not just do it and kill me now?”

“Well, there are a couple of minor issues I still need to work out.” Bill glances at Duncan slyly. “Such as what to do with that girlfriend of yours.”

In a flash, Duncan sees red. He lunges, forgetting the fact that he’s chained to the radiator and can only go so far until his ankle is jerked violently and he falls back to the ground. “You leave her alone, she’s done nothing wrong!”

“You’re right, she hasn’t, but (Y/N) knows too much.”

Duncan’s heart skips a beat when he realizes that Bill (predictably) knows more than he should.

“I’m thinking a suicide? It’s very believable, what with the grieving girlfriend and all.” Bill steps forward and, ever so slowly, places his foot on one of Duncan’s hands. “Maybe she slits her wrists in the bath? It’s very easy to overpower someone when they’re vulnerable. Or perhaps she overdoses? That’s not my preferred method, though, far too much room for someone to survive an overdose. Tell me, Duncan, how would you prefer that she die?” With each possible method, Bill continues to lay more pressure on Duncan’s hand until Duncan is moaning in pain.

“Don’t...hurt her,” Duncan pants.

Bill finally removes his foot, giving Duncan a moment to breathe before he stomps on his hand, digging the toe of his shoe in until Duncan is screaming and Bill is sure his hand is broken. “I think she’ll jump into the Potomac with a weight tied around her ankle. The poeticism--her drowning in the same river that your body will be found in--is something that’s just too good to pass up.”

“I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll kill you again and make sure that it sticks this time.” Tears are streaming down Duncan’s face, though whether that’s from the physical or emotional agony he’s in, he can’t be sure.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Bill smiles, walking to the light switch and flicking it off. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then our final act can finally begin.”

This time, Duncan doesn’t stop him before he leaves, barely letting the door close before his willpower crumbles and he begins to sob. Cradling his injured hand, he has to force himself to look at the now-mangled fingers. He gasps, attempting to straighten them out, but they refuse to even twitch in response. It’s now that Duncan realizes that the true torture is waiting. His mind and body shattered, he now has to be at the mercy of Bill Shepherd before he can finally die. He’s never wished for death before, but now, he feels a pang in his heart for every one of his victims that have had to wait, broken and bruised, for Duncan to kill them.

You

“Does this location have any significance to you?” Cordelia asks Annette, pointing to an address hastily written down on a scrap of paper. The address corresponds to a building, fairly nondescript, but obviously holding some sort of significance.

“No, it doesn’t.” Annette shakes her head.

“That’s because this is the location of the first school that I opened here in D.C. Bastard’s really going all in on trying to frame me for everything he’s done.”

(Y/N), who had previously been dozing off on Langdon’s lap (Langdon had already made her swear not to tell anybody or else he would kill her in her dreams like Freddy Kreuger), sits straight up at this moment. “What makes you think he’s there?” she asks.

“This car.” Cordelia pulls another paper out from the folder she had brought with her, this one a picture of a Mercedes E-Class. “It’s been back and forth from Umbra to the old school numerous times in the past two days. License plates are registered back to Umbra.”

“So it’s definitely Bill, then.”

“I’m not typically a betting woman, but I would put money on this. Surveillance indicates that this car has been parked in front of the Goode Academy for six straight hours now.”

(Y/N) doesn’t know much about hostage situations, but she has to assume that Bill being where Duncan is held captive for an extended amount of time means nothing good.

“We need to move now, then,” Annette says. There’s no question behind her voice; she’s going to get her son.

“Yes. Your team?”

“Myself, Langdon, and (Y/N).”

Cordelia glances warily at (Y/N). “Do you have combat experience?”

“Duncan trained me to fight, and also did some weapons training with me,” (Y/N) says.

“That’s good enough.” (Y/N) tries not to be offended. “I have myself, Madison, Misty, and Mallory.”

“We’re going?” Mallory, a brunette wearing a gold headband, says.

“I need my best girls, and you three have proven yourselves.”

“Alright then, let’s go.” Annette grabs a key from around her neck and unlocks what you thought to be a closet door, opening it to reveal a weapons cache large enough to rival a small government’s. “Stock up.”

“Which gun are you most comfortable with?” Langdon asks (Y/N), the two standing side-by-side after everybody else has had their turn.

“Uh, I don’t really know the names. It’s a handgun, and it’s black.”

“Probably a Springfield, then.” Langdon hands (Y/N) a gun that looks similar to ones that she’s handled before. “It’s already loaded.”

“Thanks.” She glances at Langdon after holstering her own weapon, watching as he selects numerous guns of different sizes. “What if we’re too late?”

“We won’t be.”

“But you heard what Cordelia said. Bill’s been there for six straight hours now. He could have--”

“You’re right, he could have,” Langdon interrupts. “But we can’t go in there assuming that the worst outcome has come true. We have to have hope. If nothing else, there’s always hope.”

“I have hope.”

“Good, because I do, too.” Langdon grabs a knife from the weapons closet, twirling the tip of the blade on his index finger. “Now let’s go get Duncan back.”

Duncan

Bill stands before Duncan, twirling the tip of a knife on his index finger. “I’ve held onto this for six years now. Do you recognize it?”

Of course Duncan recognizes the knife that he stabbed his uncle with. In his dreams, he can still feel the cool leather handle gripped tightly in his palm.

“It’s something of a treasure to me, although it certainly didn’t seem like it at first. I’ve come to recognize the significance of holding the thing that almost killed me, and I like to keep it as a reminder.” Bill holds the knife out to Duncan, knowing he’s too weak to fight him for it. “See that on the blade? Why don’t you read it for me?”

Cursive lettering is engraved on the blade, though it was not there when the knife had been in Duncan’s possession. “Memento mori,” Duncan mutters, trying to remember his Latin lessons from high school.

“It was an extremely popular phrase during the medieval period, specifically when it came to funerals. ‘Remember you must die.’ It’s a warning, a reminder. That’s what this knife has become to me, a reminder of the inevitability of death. It also reminds me that I’ve survived death before, and I’ll surely survive it again.”

“Quite the sense of humor,” Duncan remarks dryly.

Bill shrugs, bending down to Duncan’s level. “A little gauche, perhaps, but I enjoy the significance of the phrase.”

Duncan’s about to ask him what the point of this is when Bill shows him by shoving the knife into his abdomen. Duncan grunts in pain, gritting his teeth and glaring at him. “Of course you’re going to stab me just like I stabbed you.”

“Do you know how I managed to survive?” Bill asks.

“I’ve tried not to think about it much.”

“I survived,” Bill continues, “because you were too stupid to realize that you needed to pull the knife out. What do all of the medical professionals say when training civilians on dealing with stabbings? ‘Don’t remove the weapon.’ That’s the only thing keeping them from bleeding out, and it’s what kept me from bleeding out.”

“I had assumed I severed your abdominal aorta, what with all the blood.”

“Exactly, ‘assumed.’” Bill digs the knife around to watch the way that Duncan tries not to scream before pulling it out and watching as blood begins to pour out of the wound. For every beat of Duncan’s frantic heart, trying to pump blood to the source of the injury in an attempt to clot it, more blood pulses out. “Never assume things, my boy.”

Though his head is starting to spin, Duncan finds just enough rage to spit at Bill. “Go to hell.”

“From the looks of it, you’ll be there long before me,” he says almost gleefully before pulling out a gun and shooting him in the thigh. This time, Duncan openly screams. “Just wanted to make sure you actually die, if the stabbing wasn’t enough.” Bill’s extremely nonchalant, as if he’s discussing the nuances of the Nationals rather than talking about murder.

Bill grabs a key and unlocks the chain from around Duncan’s leg, knowing that he won’t have the strength to escape. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check on you.”

“Fuck you,” Duncan responds, but Bill’s already gone.

Duncan moans in pain as he stares at his wounds, feeling the stickiness of blood beginning to pool under him. Lifting a shaky hand, he presses it to his abdomen to try and slow the bleeding. As he swallows deeply, realizing that he very likely is going to die shortly, he thinks about a number of things, mainly regrets.

He wishes that he had realized earlier that his mom was just as much Bill’s victim as he was.

He wishes that he appreciated Michael more for the brother he had been to him.

He wishes that he had told (Y/N) that he loved her more often.

But most especially, Duncan wishes that he had just put a bullet in Bill’s head that night instead of stabbing him. Then, he wouldn’t be feeling this intense cold begin to settle in his bones as he’s forced to slowly die on the concrete floor of a basement. Facing the Grim Reaper head-on is not nearly as dramatic as he thought it would be.

You

Watching the Coven, Langdon, and Annette taking out the defectors is not nearly as dramatic as (Y/N) thought it would be. Wisely, they had requested that she stay behind until the perimeter was secured. It’s much quieter, and a lot less bloody; as it turns out, members of organized crime do have consciences, and chose to subdue those not directly a threat. After Langdon finishes tying those who had remained loyal to Bill together, Cordelia motions for (Y/N) to follow the group into the old school.

The proud sign that once declared this building the Goode Academy now lies in the dirt of the overgrown lawn. The doors are open, solely because the rusted hinges make it impossible for them to remain closed against a gentle breeze. The further that they make it inside, the more frantic (Y/N) is. She knows that they’re close to Duncan, she just doesn’t know what state they’ll find Duncan in. Before they can make it too far with Cordelia as their guide, Bill appears. Instead of holding a machine gun, which is kind of what (Y/N) had expected, he has a concerned look on his face.

“Annette, thank god you’re here! I know this must be confusing to you, but when I heard that Duncan was missing, I knew that I needed to save him from the bitches that had sent me into hiding years ago.”

Confusion blankets (Y/N)’s mind as she tries to figure out what’s going on, but Annette doesn’t feel the same. “Cut the shit, Bill. I know what you’ve been doing.”

Bill laughs. “You’re going to let Cordelia Goode manipulate you into believing her, after she tried to kill me?”

“You’re an idiot. You think I don’t smell the blood in the air?” Annette laughs viciously, a verbal slap in the face. “Where’s my son?”

Like a switch was flipped, the worry on Bill’s face falls into contempt. “You’ve always been too emotional for your own good, Annette.”

“‘Family over everything,’” Annette quotes. “Remember that? What happened to that?”

“That died the day that that--that mistake came back from boarding school and decided that our business, the empire we built from the ground up, was his birthright.”

“You never were good at sharing, were you?”

The siblings stare at each other for a moment before Bill sighs. “You could have just been complicit, but no. Guess I’ll have to think on the fly, then.” He pulls out a gun and cocks the hammer back.

Before he can fire, Madison and Mallory appear from behind him, having snuck into the back. Madison knocks the gun out of his hand, the weapon firing into the ceiling, as Mallory socks him in the face and drives him to his knees. Both women force his hands behind him, holding him still as Cordelia walks up to him.

“The door to the basement is in the kitchen, hidden behind the left wall of the pantry,” Cordelia says to the group.

(Y/N)’s off, moving as fast as she can while maneuvering through the unfamiliar house. “Wait, you can’t do this. Annette, you aren’t really going to let the Coven, of all people, do this to me?” Bill pleads.

“I can actually, and I will. After all,” Annette turns to Cordelia, “we have a deal.”

In the kitchen, (Y/N) throws open the pantry door, pushing and shoving and pulling at the left wall before it finally opens to reveal a set of stairs.

“Girls?” Annette calls just before she reaches the door. “Make it painful.”

(Y/N) runs down the stairs, hands scrambling along the wall until she comes across a light switch. Flicking it on, her eyes look around the room until she sees a lifeless figure on the floor that’s surrounded by a pool of blood. A cry is ripped from her chest as she falls to her knees beside Duncan, hands hovering above him as she tries to figure out what to do first.

He’s pale, scarily so, and he’s breathing so shallowly that she can’t tell he’s breathing at first. Somehow, with all the blood, he’s still breathing. All (Y/N) can focus on is the fact that he’s still alive (later, she’ll wonder how she didn’t even flinch at all of the injuries and the blood, oh, the blood) as she rips her shirt off and presses it firmly against the wound on his stomach, calling his name over and over again in increasing levels of desperation.

From behind her, she can hear Annette scream and yell for Langdon to call an ambulance. She can feel the presence of somebody next to her as they catalogue where Duncan’s hurt, but she can’t bring herself to look away from Duncan’s face. His perfect face, that she’s kissed over and over a thousand times and has taken immense pleasure in watching a blush rise to the surface. His perfect face that she’s now slapping to try and get him to at least show some sort of response.

“You don’t get to die like this,” she tells him, hoping that he’ll somehow manage to hear her. “You said that you didn’t want to be the reason I suffered, but look at you now, making me suffer. Don’t keep me suffering like this!”

Slowly, and just barely, his eyes crack open just enough that (Y/N) can see a hint of blue. His lips move, saying something without audible sound, and she brings her head down to his to try and catch what he’s saying.

“An angel.” She finally makes out what his reverent whisper is over the wail of the incoming ambulances, and laughs brokenly as her head falls onto his chest in relief.

//

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[enamoured-x]

Second Best

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with the Reyes brothers for a long time now, but when Ez’s deal is exposed, you help Angel understand he’s not second best, not in your eyes. 

Word count: 4k

a/n: this will be a mini series, so expect a few more parts! I’ve had this idea for a while since the episode aired and i figured i’d finally bring it to fruition. 

*Not my gif

Part 1

It was another lazy Sunday for you as you rolled out of bed at around noon. You were off for the next few days and were glad for it considering the over time you had been putting in recently. You made the split decision to get out of the house, even if you were wanting to just stay in and relax. Although that was tempting, you were missing your boys.

You usually always brought the guys lunch and you sent a quick text to Angel to let him know that you’d be dropping by, he was quick to text back giving you the go ahead.

You had met Angel and Ez your freshman year of high school, being in the same grade as Ez, you two eventually became fast friends and he was quick to introduce you to his older brother. From the moment you met Angel, he was suddenly always included in yours and Ez’s plans. It was such an easy rhythm to slip into with both the Reyes men, they became family when yours was falling apart. Even Felipe was eager to have you over, which ended up being almost everyday. You three were thick as thieves and only grew closer as the years went by. When Ez got locked up, you thought things were going to change, and they did but not in the way you expected.

Sure, you hardly saw Ez, but you and Angel were still best friends and you visited Felipe a lot more even without the older Reyes brother present. You made weekly visits to Ez and talked to him for as long as you could. You hung out with Angel basically everyday, especially the first few months that Ez had gotten locked up, Angel was a mess; first his mom's passing and then his younger brother going to prison? It was a lot for him, so you became his crutch in those months. Sure, his other go-to’s were sex and alcohol but you never let him stray too far and you were always there when he needed something other than quick cheap vices. Eventually, Angel had joined the Mayans and although at first you were hesitant, you quickly grew fond of the men in the club. You were constantly hanging around and going to their parties, and forming bonds with the guys, forming another little family. When Ez finally got out of prison, and decided to follow in his older brother's footsteps, well, you couldn’t exactly be mad at that. You were just glad he was out and your trio was back together again, your family was intact again.

When you pulled into the scrapyard, you parked near the bikes and took your bags and exited the car. Chucky was quick to greet you and you talked to him for a few moments before handing his burrito over. He took it with a big smile and walked back into the office.

“Hey, mamas.” You turned around to see Angel walking out of the clubhouse, a smile on his face. Your heart rate picked up at seeing him and you couldn’t help the grin on your face as you walked over to him. He brought you into a hug before placing a kiss to your forehead. You preened at the touch of his lips, at the feel of his rough calloused hands skimming the exposed skin at your waist from where your shirt drew up. Shivers sneaked down your spine despite the sun blasting directly on you two.

Angel was your best friend, but somewhere along the years, he became more to you. It was hard not to fall for Angel Reyes, with that smile and that big heart of his? You were a goner from the get go. But Angel was your best friend. He was your light and your heart and you didn’t need your feelings getting in the way of the friendship you had with him.

“Hey, mi ángel.” You said, placing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He squeezed your hip and slid his hand further around your waist to lead you inside.

“Y/n’s here!” He yelled to the guys as you walked in, despite them lounging around on the couches and at the bar. They were all quick to get up and greet you, pulling you into hugs.

“Chula, where have you been?” Bishop asked as he kissed your cheek.

“Overworking myself to death.” You joked and set the bags down on the coffee table. You started taking out the burritos wrapped in foil.

“Told you to calm down.” Ez said, coming over and placing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah well someone’s gotta pay the bills.” You told him as you started handing out the food.

“I told you to come live with me.” Angel suggested as he peeled back the aluminum and took a bite of his burrito.

“You only have a one bedroom.” You reminded him.

“I know.” He wiggled his brows, causing the guys to snicker and shake their heads. You rolled your eyes, even though the reality was that you’d be more than happy to sleep in Angel’s bed.

“Just eat your food, Reyes.” You shoved him lightly. He laughed and pulled you into his side.

“You love me.” He said, mouth full of food, and then kissed you on your cheek. You scoffed and wiped your cheek.

“Gross! This is why Ez is my favorite Reyes.” You pulled yourself away from him and went over to Ez, he was quick to throw an arm around your shoulder. The guys rolled their eyes at the three of you and your antics.

“That’s hurtful. And definitely a lie.” Of course it was a lie. Angel was your number one, whether he knew it or not. He was your favorite in every way. You loved Ez so much but not in the way you loved Angel. You weren’t in love with Ez.

“Come on, we all know Angel is your favorite. Quit playing.” Coco said from his spot on the couch, burrito almost gone.

“Thanks, hermano. You already know.” Angel said, smirking. You rolled your eyes as Ez laughed.

“You know what? Actually, pops is my favorite Reyes.” You concluded and they laughed.

“Actually that might be accurate.” Ez said and let go of you to get Riz and Tranq another beer when they gestured to their empty bottles.

“It’s okay, mamas. I know the truth.” He winked at you, coming back to your side and pulling you into him. This time you let him.

You smiled and whispered in his ear, “by far my favorite, Angel.” Angel could flirt and tease you but you gave it just as good as you got it.

The largest boyish grin overtook his face and he kissed your cheek. You bit your lip as your cheeks warmed.

“You’re my favorite too.” He whispered back. The guys were busy in their own conversations to pay you two any mind.

“Favorite out of what?”

He shrugged, “everyone.”

-

Eleven pm rolled around rather quickly as you got ready for bed. You spent a good part of the afternoon with the guys at the clubhouse and then met with Felipe for dinner. The rest of the night was spent watching Netflix on the couch.

As you had just finished your skin care routine, you heard your cellphone ringing. You turned the tv off and looked to see who was calling you so late. Ez’s name and picture took over the screen on your phone. You answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/n…” You heard him grunt and start coughing a little.

“Ez, are you okay?” You stopped in your tracks, worry taking over at the obvious tone in his voice.

“No...I...Angel knows.” It took you a few seconds to register what he was talking about. You shut your eyes and let out a deep sigh. Angel knew about the deal Ez made with the DEA. The deal that Ez had been hiding from Angel and the club. The deal that made Ez a snitch.

“Fuck, Ez. What happened?” You sat down on your bed, trying to figure out what was going to happen from here.

“I’ll explain everything. But… I need you to come get me.” You heard him groan and you quickly sat up. You pulled on some pants and grabbed your keys, rushing out the door. You could piece together the fact that Ez didn’t sound too good and seeing as Angel found out… Well you could only assume things got physical.

Ez sent you his location and then you ended the call. It took you over thirty minutes to reach him and with good timing considering that your phone died as soon as you got to him. You were shocked to see how badly he was bruised and bleeding, even holding his side.

“Fuck, Ez. Be careful.” You said, getting out of the car and helping him into the passengers side. You quickly got back into the drivers side and drove back the way you came.

“What the fuck happened?” You asked, trying to drive right while also taking off your flannel to give to Ez. He took it and wiped his face gently.

He let out a shaky breath and then started to explain everything on the way to his trailer. How they were both arrested when they got pulled over with a body in the trunk of the car they were driving up to the point where a DEA agent came in and spilled Ez’s secret and trapped them into another deal which led to Angel ultimately beating on Ez and leaving him to his own devices. You were finally at his trailer at the clubhouse and you both made your way in. You set him down and grabbed a rag, running it under warm water. You went over to him, cleaning his face as gently as you could. He still winced at the touch. The cuts were big but not deep enough for stitches. You realized Angel still had his rings on when his fists were making connect with Ez’s face. Fuck, no wonder Ez was out of it, that and the force with which you knew Angel could hit with? It was not pretty.

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I love you and I can understand some of it but I can’t say you didn’t deserve this.” You told him as you continued cleaning up the blood.

“I know. I was stupid… I thought–I just thought that I’d be able to give them enough information that they’d eventually just let me go.”

“We both know that wasn’t going to happen. Fuck, Ez, I can’t imagine what Angel’s going through right now.” Your heart ached for Angel. His brother's betrayal would run deep and this would cause the biggest riff between the two brothers.

You grabbed the small emergency kit that came with the trailer and you cleaned his cuts with alcohol and then put bandages on the cuts.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen, Y/n.”

You sighed, “well it did, Ezekiel. Now you have to face the consequences.” You were mad at him still, you had been since he first told you about the deal two weeks ago. To say you were pissed was an understatement, all you could think about was Angel. How he was going to feel, how he was going to take it. You were going to tell him, you felt like you had to, how could you not? But Ez and pops convinced you otherwise, telling you it would be best to let Ez do it on his own terms. But that wasn’t why you agreed, no, you agreed because you weren’t going to take that burden off of Ez’s shoulders. This was his mess and he was going to clean up every single piece of it. Telling Angel would only help him and that wasn’t what he deserved. You loved him but this wasn’t on you.

“Thank you for this.” He said, referring to picking him up and cleaning his wounds.

You sighed and stood up from your crouching position.

“Get some rest.” Is all you said. You placed a kiss to his temple and exited the trailer. The scolding you wanted to give him could wait, Angel already did enough to him tonight and although he reaped what he sowed, he needed a second.

You made the drive back to your house already tired and ready to slip into bed. You needed to also charge your phone, if Angel reached out to you, you wanted to know and be there for him in any way you could.

You didn’t need to wonder about him anymore as you pulled into your driveway, parking right next to his black car.

Of course he came here. You quickly got out of your car and went inside, hoping he wasn’t waiting long. Your phone had been dead for the past hour so it couldn’t have been longer than that.

You closed your front door and walked into the living room, seeing Angel seated on the couch staring at the blank tv screen.

“Angel?” You asked, slowly making your way over to him as to not startle him. He seemed to snap out of his thoughts and looked over at you. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears.

“Oh, mi ángel.” You walked over to him and sat down next to him, leaning into his side and rubbing his back.

“Where were you?” He asked, sniffling. You bit your lip, you knew he’d probably get angry at your answer but you didn’t want to lie.

“Ez called me, went to go get him.” You admitted quietly. He stared at you for a few seconds before letting out a huff and shaking his head as he stood up. You stood up with him.

“Of fucking course.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. He looked so distraught and tears pricked at your eyes from his current state.

“Angel–”

“Of fucking course you run to him. Did he tell you what he did? How he fucking betrayed me?” You knew he wasn’t asking if you knew, he was asking if Ez told you tonight. And you were glad for it. You knew you’d have to tell him that you knew but not right now, not when he was so close to falling to his knees.

“Yes, he did.” Is all you said, not knowing how to gauge his temper right now.

“Right, and what? You choosing his side?” He shook his head and put both his hands on his head.

“What? No of course not. What he did was wrong, Angel but I was just helping him. He was bleeding a lot and–” You explained, placing your hand on his back.

“Helping him? So while I was waiting for you because I needed you, you were playing fucking doctor?” He looked crushed, absolutely crushed.

“I didn’t know you were here, Angel. I just wanted to make sure he was okay–”

“And what about me? What about making sure I’m okay? But of course, it’s always Ez. The fucking golden boy always getting tended to first, always the first.” He was not only upset but he was angry. And now, so were you.

“Don’t, Angel. Of course I want to make sure you’re okay, but Ez–”

“Fuck! I get it, okay? It’s always Ez this, Ez that. Jesus, you’re just like pops.” You took a step back, as if struck. You knew what he was comparing you to. Not Felipe but the way Felipe always put Ez first, always looked out for him more than he did with Angel. And that was the exact opposite of you.

“No. Don’t fucking say that to me.” You pushed his shoulder lightly to get him to face you.

“Why? It’s true. You went straight to Ez and then when he told you what he did you didn’t even think to check in to see if I was okay.”

“My phone was dead! I was going to call you as soon as I charged it.”

“Sure, right after you helped Ez first.” He rolled his eyes, tears still pooling on his lower lid.

You were annoyed but you also knew where this was all coming from. Everyone in Angel’s life always put him last, always treated him as second best.

“So you think I put Ez first? Seriously?” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, you do. You and the whole fucking world. Who gives a damn about Angel, who cares how he fucking feels.” You clenched your fists. He had no idea what he was talking about.

“I fucking care, Angel.” You said, hoping the words would hit their mark but they didn’t as he let out a humorless laugh.

“Sure you do, mami.”

“Fuck you, Angel. You don’t get to say I don’t care, I care more than you think. You don’t get to stand here and throw your dad and Ez’s lack of concern for you on me. Never have I ever done anything to make you feel as if you were second best. Ever.” You wanted nothing more than to take Angel into your arms and tell him everything was going to be okay, but before that could happen, you weren’t going to let him insult your character. Especially not when it came to him and how much you loved him.

“You put him first tonight.” He said, quietly. You huffed.

“You want to know something, Angel?” You stepped closer to him, practically chest to chest with him. The smell of his cologne, the desert, his cigarettes, and the oils from his bike penetrated your sense, it smelled like home and everything that you ever loved.

“If my phone wasn’t dead and you had called, I would’ve dropped Ez to come to you.” It was the truth. Maybe that would be labeled as being a bad friend, but this situation was different and Angel definitely needed you more than Ez right now.

“Right…” He sighed, not believing you.

“You’re a fucking dumbass.” You stated, realizing he was so blind by the anger of you being with Ez that he couldn’t see that he was your number one priority.

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I am for letting my baby brother pull one over on me and for not seeing that you are always going to love him more.” A tear slipped down his cheek and your heart clenched seeing him in this state, hearing him talk like this. You felt like you didn’t have full control of what you were saying as you went to speak. It was as if your heart was to caught up and to eager to make Angel feel better that it didn’t give your brain time to process it all.

“You are. You’re the biggest fucking dumbass out there, Angel. I could never love him more.” You stepped even closer, your chest pressed against him now, your face inches away from his. You grabbed onto his flannel, trying to steady yourself or pull him closer, you didn’t know. He was about to speak when you continued.

“I could never love him more, and you wanna know why?” Your brain was so close to processing what you were about to say but it was too late and it shocked you to realize that you didn’t care.

“Because I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you, Angel.” Your brain caught up and everything snapped into place but you still didn’t care. You didn’t care that you just confessed your feelings to Angel. You didn't care because he needed to know how much he was loved, even if it meant embarrassing yourself to do so. Even if it meant making things weird for you two from here on it. You‘d endure, for him you’d endure it.

His eyes were wide and he kept opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something. You didn’t expect him to reciprocate your feelings of course, so you gave him a moment to process what you just told him. But the way he was looking at you made you speak up again.

“I’ve been in love with you for awhile now, mi ángel. So I could never love him more and I could never think you’re second best when you’re my everything.” Maybe it was pathetic how deeply in love you were with this man, but it was relieving to know that you still didn’t care that you were probably making a fool of yourself.

“I love–” You were going to keep saying it till he said something or till he realized you were telling the truth. But he cut you off when he grabbed your face in his hands and smashed his lips against yours. You didn’t even hesitate as your lips slotted with his and you slide your hands to his hair to run through the strands. Angel slid one arm down your waist and pulled you into him closer.

Your mind was hazy, your heart was pounding. You felt as if you were being engulfed in flames as the kiss consumed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and swiped against yours. You moaned and pulled him closer. He tasted like cigarettes, mint, and something so fucking sweet that you knew just made it all the more him.

You didn’t want to pull away, didn’t care about oxygen, screw oxygen, Angel Reyes was your breath of air.

He moaned as you tugged him closer, still not breaking the kiss. And how could you? He kissed you like he was devouring you, like it was the last time he’d ever get to kiss you. But if you were lucky, this would be the first of many.

You two finally pulled away, panting as you tried to get some air back into your lungs. Neither of you could help yourselves as you both leaned in, sharing small kisses through your deep breaths.

“You’re my everything too, mi tesoro.” He whispered against your lips. You pulled him into you, not for another kiss but for a hug. He gladly accepted, burying his head in your neck.

The kiss was mind blowing but it could only distract him from what happened tonight so much before everything came creeping back in.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I’m so sorry this happened.” You said, rubbing his back. He squeezed you tighter and you heard him sniffle.

“I’m here. You have me, you’ll always have me.” You pulled away from him and cupped his face. Tear tracks were staining his cheeks, running into his beard.

“Come on, you’re staying the night.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall and to your bedroom. He let you lead the way.

Once inside your room you shimmied out of your jeans. Normally Angel would probably make a comment, but tonight was different. You walked over to him and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it over his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. You then grabbed the hem of his white tank top and pulled it up, he helped take it off as it got to his chest. Your hands found the button on his jeans and you unhooked it and he helped you slide them down. Leaving him in only his briefs and you in a simple baggy shirt.

“Let’s go to sleep, hmm?” A glance at your clock on your nightstand told you it was already one in the morning and after the day Angel had, you knew he was exhausted.

You slid under the covers and when you held out your arms to him he slid in with you and you pulled him into you. He was more than willing to settle his head right below your breasts and he wrapped his arms around your stomach. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair.

“I love you, mi ángel. Sleep.” Is all you said before he was passed out a few moments later after you continued playing with hair. When you felt his heavy breathing, you rested your hand over his shoulder and placed your other on the arm that was wrapped around you. His weight and heat was welcomed as he laid in your arms and you were dragged into a peaceful sleep.

Part 2

[officialwittek]

pt. 4

*gif is not mine* 

word count: 2,101

Ever since my little conversation with the girls I haven’t been able to really be myself around Jeff. Now I notice the side glances, the lingering touches on my thigh, the way his breath hitches when I get pushed a little too close to him at parties, and everything else I haven’t noticed before. My friends were adamant that he liked me back but I couldn’t see it. Slowly I distanced myself from them, for one my manager thought it would be a good idea to release some new music soon so I was extra busy and I can’t really be around my friends without feeling like my heart is going to explode. Of course they started noticing and not a day went by where I didn’t get texts from at least three of them asking where I was and why I stopped coming around. Even Jason and Josh dropped my apartment to make sure I was still alive.

Three weeks have gone by since my sleepover with Jeff. We still talk but not as much as before. Carly and Natalie were constantly calling and texting and I truly felt bad, but it would seem like such a bullshit excuse to say it’s because of my crush on Jeff.

“Sage, this is... this is real good work. I’m thinking we finish it up, and be set to release it in two weeks” James, my manager, said listening to to the final of three of the songs

“Thanks dad, I think today we’re recording the last song. I’ll email you our final version by the end of the day” I reply, he ruffles my hair and nods, leaving for another meeting while the producer and I talk about the last track

We record for about four hours, fine tuning every last detail. After the two of us finally felt good about it we sent the file to James who also gave the approval. We sent it in the the higher ups who also gave us the ok. All the promotional pictures were finished, we had an album cover chosen, now to put it all together and make this my first serious piece of art. After the long morning I decided to head straight to my apartment. I wasn’t particularly hungry anyways. I parked my car and took the elevator up to my apartment.  

I noticed shushing and brushed it off, thinking it was just Carly and Erin messing around. I unlock the door and see all of my friends crammed into this fairly small apartment. No one had their cameras out and they all had their arms crossed I sighed and put my things down before shutting the door.

“Before you even say anything. No I’m not on drugs, I don’t hate anyone, and I actually have been working on my music. My first EP is coming out in a few weeks” I explain, their faces relax and Carly walks up to me

“Don’t you ever try to ghost us like that again. We hated it” She said, wrapping her slender arms around my shoulders and I nodded, our friends came around and we all had a sweet group hug

“Well a congratulations are in order. I think we should celebrate tonight” David says, laughing loudly

“Fine, I’m stealing a Red Bull from your fridge though” I say, we all go downstairs and I finally notice some of their cars parked there

We all head to David’s house and I grab a Red Bull. We all sit in the living room. Filming dumb bits and getting ready for tonight. David wanted to throw it at his house since he wanted to keep it relatively small. Natalie, Carly, and Erin went to stock up for the night, asking me about all my favorite things. It took about an hour and a half for them to come back. Everyone helped get things from Nat‘s car and set up. We were finally ready and decided to start drinking before everyone got here.

“May Ilya and Zane stay away from the hospital. Amen” I yell, all of them cheering in response as we take our shots

After a few rounds of shots I was already pretty tipsy. I sat down at the couch, answering a few congratulatory texts from others. I talked to a few of our friends here and there. Jeff was nowhere to be found. I frowned a bit, but who can blame him? After all, I’m the one who made the decision to not talk to him.

“Do you think we could get a sneak peak?” Jason asks, taking a set next to me but I shake my head

“I want to keep it a complete surprise. Plus I’ve been thinking about having a release party and showing everyone there” I said, Jason actually thought that was a much better idea than just playing it

We made small talk here and there, apparently Wyatt has been dying to see my new studio. I loved Jason’s kids like they were my own family, especially since Wyatt and I have such a love for music.

“I’d love to have Wyatt at the studio. He can even record some things if he wants to. I know how to produce as well” I said, Jason damn near cried at the suggestion and we set a date

“Someone looks a little sober” Zane yells from behind us, I laugh and allow him to take me to the kitchen where the others were taking shots or making their best interpretations of different cocktails

After sampling everyone’s horrible attempt at a blackberry mojito it’s safe to say I was one shot away from exiting the physical realm. Especially since Zane decided it was appropriate to just dump nearly an entire bottle of rum in the drink. After a few minutes Todd headed to the door and let someone in. I heard the familiar accent and my heart dropped to my stomach. Jeff is here.

To be fair, I’m probably the only one who really cares that much, especially since I’m drunk as hell and I have a crush on the dude. I try to run and hide in a corner but there’s a lot more people now. I finally see an opening and head straight for the backyard. Thankfully no one noticed because Zane was too busy doing something extremely dangerous. I sit in one of the chairs we reserve for smoking, hitting my puff and scrolling mindlessly through TikTok, trying to get the thoughts out of my head. I hear the sliding door open and look up to see David.

“Alright what’s wrong? You look like we threw a party because we killed your dog” David jokes, my lips spread into a light smile

“Nothing, I’ve just been so exhausted lately with everything going on.. that’s all” I lie, I mean I’m not really lying, just not telling him the whole truth

“So it has nothing to do with Jeff showing up and you’re definitely overthinking and avoiding him even more. C’mon I’ve known you for forever, you can’t lie to me” He replies, his tone suddenly being serious

And it’s true, I’ve known David since I moved out here. He was my first real L.A friend. He’s seen me at my absolute lowest moments, and someone I could always go to whenever something was wrong. I hated that he could read me like a book.

“Fine, the Jeff thing is a contributing factor. But I’m being honest about the exhaustion” I say, crossing my arms like a child

We sit and talk, something we haven’t done in forever. It felt nice to have someone listen to me. After about half an hour of just talking we decide to head back inside. I felt too sober again and took some shots with Natalie and Toddy. I could feel Jeff’s eyes glaring a hole into the side of my head, but I was too sober to deal with anything right now.

At around 1:00 am. I got hungry and ordered DoorDash for everyone. All the other guests had left so it was just our main group scattered around the house. Jeff was surprisingly still here. Todd had whispered to me earlier that the only reason he was sticking around this late was to make sure I got home alright. I smiled at the sentiment, he was always making sure my drunk ass was safe.

Our DoorDash arrived and we all ate while watching some movie David found on Netflix. Jeff took a seat next to me, the look in his eyes was telling me he was going to ask for my permission so I simply nodded and scooted over so he could be comfortable. After we ate David wanted to get some last minute bits before we left for his vlog tomorrow.

“Jeff are you attracted to Sage?” David asks, my breath hitches in my throat, making me choke on my water

“No, I’ve blocked her out. Since she’s part of the friend group I don’t want to make anything weird” He replies, I can tell the answer even made David a little upset

Jason makes a joke to lighten the mood before there’s any tension which I greatly appreciate. Although Jeff’s words struck a cord, while I sit there repeating what he said it hits me. He’s right, I can’t guarantee that if Jeff and I were together that it would be for life and I can’t lose my second family. He’s right, it would never happen. Before I know it I feel my eyes watering and Natalie gently grabs my hand before leading me to her room with the rest of the girls in tow. When she closes the door I finally let it all out

“It’s ok princess, let it out” Mariah says, the girls wrapping me in a group hug

“It’s so stupid, we’re best friends before I let this stupid ass crush ruin everything but just hearing him say that out loud made it so much more concrete that we will never be together” I cry, resting my head on her shoulder

We have a little talk and I clean myself up before we all go back outside. At that point  David was done filming and was looking through the footage on his camera to pick out some clips. Jeff was waiting patiently on the couch before Corinna spoke up.

“Hey Jeff, I’m gonna take Sage home. We have some plans tomorrow and it would just be easier if I stay over” She says, it’s sort of true, Corinna has some meetings in the morning and they’re closer to my place but she isn’t staying over

“Oh ok, I should head out then. I’ll see you guys later” Jeff says, saying his goodbyes and leaving

“So was anyone else uncomfortable with Jeff’s answer or was it just me?” David asks, the group agrees, it’s definitely in his right to say that I mean no is mad

“Yea, I wasn’t mad cause it’s his own opinion and Jeff is a big boy, but he seems to sort of lead you on for him to turn around and say that he doesn’t even see you like when we ask him about Natalie and Corinna” Heath replies, everyone nods in agreement and I just sigh

“I’m not mad, I mean I have been sort of ghosting everyone these past few weeks, maybe he’s just upset” I explain, Heath and Todd give me the look

“Baby that’s bullshit and you know it” Heath laughs, Todd agrees with him and taps my leg

“To be honest, he was very stressed out while you were gone” He says, I know he’s trying to make me feel better but it doesn’t really help

Corinna and I leave shortly after we have our little group talk. We caught up during the car ride and before I know it we’re at my apartment. We say goodbye and plan to meet for lunch tomorrow before I head up to my apartment. I knew Carly was probably fast asleep so I tried to be as quiet as possible.

I get ready for bed and climb into my warm blanket, wrapping myself like a burrito. I browse TikTok on my phone for a few minutes before setting my alarm. Just before I let sleep take over my phone buzzes on my nightstand.

Jeff: I missed you.. I’m sorry for being an asshole tonight. I had no idea that I was leading you on, but I didn’t know you had a crush on me..

Fuck.

[finnsgrin]

John Murphy - Soulmate AU

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanoncriminalwayy

GIF: captain-shurley

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Word Count: 1,680

Published on: August 22, 2020

TW: Blood and sickness

Spoilers: S1 E10

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Where the very first words your soulmate will say to you is tattooed on your wrist

John Murphy

♡Masterlist♡ You had always been envious of your friends and the tattoos on their wrists.

It wasn't the tattoo you were jealous of. Everyone on the Ark had one.

It was what their tattoos said that made your blood boil.

When you're born, you come with a tattoo on your wrist, and that tattoo consists of the first words your soulmate will say to you.

"I can't believe it's really you."

"You're so beautiful."

"My soulmate is the prettiest girl on the Ark."

Yeah, those were all of the things tattooed on your friends wrists.

What did yours say?

I think I'm going to throw up.

Yup. Those are the words written on you for the rest of your life.

You had gone over and over time and time again trying to imagine your first encounter with your soulmate.

All of your friends gushed over how cute their soulmates already were, while you pondered over the fact that your soulmate would be physically ill when he first met you.

You hid your wrist as much as possible, and were grateful when the wristband you were issued covered up the words you hated so much.

You met a lot of new people after being sent to the ground, and were relieved when days had gone by and you hadn't heard the words you dreaded.

After the malfunction that made all of the wristbands come off, you did what you could to hide the words.

Wearing long sleeves, making bracelets out of spare cord...

Almost a month had gone by, and you still didn't hear anyone complaining about being sick.

Until he came back.

You had never spoken to John Murphy.

Hell, you didn't even know what color his eyes were. You stayed as far away from his as possible, and, rightfully so.

You were among the first to be in contact with him after your best friend, Octavia Blake, had found him in the woods, beaten to a pulp.

After Clarke had determined biological warfare, you volunteered to help with the sick. It was inevitable that you were going to get sick anyway, you being one of the first to touch the ill boy, so you might as well help while you could. At least a dozen people were on their death beds, and the words on your wrist were just a memory in moments like these where it was life or death.

You were making rounds, passing out water, when he caught your eye.

Normally, the sight of the boy everyone despised in such anguish would having you smiling to yourself.

But this was different.

He was shaking. Beaten. Bruised and bloody. Vulnerable. Broken.

And it hurt you.

"How are you feeling?"

You crouched down next to him, frowning at the absence of his fingernails which had been ripped off by the Grounders.

His eyes met yours. They were blue. They reminded you of the sky. Up on the Ark, you used to sit for hours in front of the window that faced earth, and marvel at the blue. Coming to earth, you didn't expect the sky to be so... vivid and beautiful.

But his eyes were also full of panic.

"I think I'm gonna throw up."

Your heart stopped.

John Murphy?

Out of all of the people in the universe, your soulmate was John Murphy?

"Yeah, me too." You whispered.

You both sat in silence, and you waited for him to vomit, but he didn't. After simmering in the awkwardness, you eventually stood, and went around the dropship tending to the others.

The entire time, his eyes followed you.

-

Not soon after your encounter with your dreaded soulmate did you fall ill.

You were passing out water when you looked down in the cup to see that it had turned a crimson red. You frowned, confused. But the question to your curiosity was answered when you reached up to wipe your nose with the back of your hand, and were met with the blood that was dripping. Immediately, you called for Clarke, and she made you lay down in the only available spot which, go figure, was right next to Murphy.

You laid there in anguish, clenching your teeth together and tilting your head to the side when you felt the uncontrollable urge to vomit.

Someone was holding your hair back, and when you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach, you turned around to thank Clarke, who you presumed was the one who was helping.

But it wasn't Clarke. She was on the other side of the dropship tending to someone's wound.

Murphy looked better than he had an hour ago, and you awkwardly wiped the dribble off of your chin.

"Thank you." You croaked, your voice raw.

"It's the least I could do for my soulmate." The corner of his lips curled up into a smirk.

After sitting in more silence, he broke it.

"Did you think it would be me?" He asked you, propping himself up on his elbow.

You frowned.

"What?" You inquired.

"Did you think it would be me? Did you ever think you would get lucky enough to have me as your soulmate?" He smiled cockily.

You just scoffed, which turned into a hacking cough.

"I knew I was lucky the moment I understood what the words on my wrist meant." He whispered after you had gotten your breathing under control.

You blinked, confused once again for the millionth time that day.

He extended his right wrist to you, where the very first words you had ever spoken to him were.

How are you feeling?

You ran your index finger over the tattoo. His skin was rough and calloused.

"I knew that I was lucky, because the very first words my soulmate would ever say to me were asking how I was feeling. My soulmate was kind. Caring. Selfless." His voice had dropped even quieter, and you strained to hear him.

You smiled, and looked down at your wrist.

"I always thought my soulmate was an asshole." You smiled as he gently traced the words on your wrist. A jolt of electricity pulsed through you.

"Well, you weren't wrong." Murphy laughed once, and looked you in your (Y/C/E) eyes which were blotched red from all of coughing.

"You should get some rest." He pulled his hand away from your wrist, and you secretly longed for his touch.

Seriously, (Y/N) It's John Murphy. Maybe there was a mistake. There's no way he's my soulmate.

You tried to convince yourself of this. He had been so awful to everyone on the ground. How could someone as sweet as you be destined to someone as selfish as him?

"Yeah. Yeah, I should. We both should." You closed your eyes, and turned your head away from him in fear that you would end up staring at him.

Fatigue overcame you, and you thought of the irony of it all.

The very day you meet your soulmate might very well be the same day you both die.

"Murphy?" His name rolled effortlessly off your tounge.

He was quite for a moment.

"Yeah?" He whispered back, turning to face you.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Please be here when I open my eyes." You whispered.

The last thing you remember before sinking into unconsciousness, was him taking your hand into his.

-

Miraculously, you both survived through the night. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with him gazing at you.

"Good morning." He greeted you with a small smile. The grovel in his voice was gone, and color had begun to return to his cheeks.

"Hi." You smiled softly, and swallowed, the pain in your throat gone.

Clarke examined the both of you, and explained that the sickness was a 24 hour thing, and you two should be fine now.

Both you and Murphy exited the dropship side by side to go get some water from the still.

You both walked slowly, your bones and joints still aching and sore.

"It wasn't just because I was sick that I said it." He broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow, perplexed, and he held out his tattooed wrist.

You nodded in understanding, and motioned for him to continue.

"Yeah, I already felt sick, but the moment I realized you were my... soulmate," He smiled at the word, a blush creeping to his cheeks.

"I was so scared I was going to get you killed, (Y/N)," His eyes were full of sadness.

"If I lived, and if I got you killed, I wouldn't be able to live with myself." His words grew thick and weighed heavy.

You grabbed both of his hands with yours, and looked him in the eyes.

"But you didn't. And, even if you did, it wouldn't have been your fault." Your words were comforting to him, but he still blinked back tears.

"How is it that someone like me is destined to be with someone like you? A butterfly and a dungbeetle." He reached up his hand to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't think you would be a dungbettle. Maybe a stink bug." You smirked.

"Actually I was referring to myself  as the butterfly. You would be the dungbettle," He laughed as you playfully smacked him on his shoulder.

"I know I haven't been the best person, but for you, I'm willing to change." He continued.

Your heart began to beat erratically as he leaned in for a sweet kiss. Although both of your lips were chapped, it was still the best kiss you bet you'd ever have.

"Hey! Keep your lips separated, or we're gonna have another outbreak. This time, mono!" You heard Octavia gag a few feet away from you.

You both flipped her off at the same time, and you heard someone chuckle.

"Yup. They're definitely meant for each other."

♡Masterlist♡

[aperrywilliams]

Something to Say (Spencer Reid)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Main characters: Spencer Reid, Fem!Reader, Diana Reid.

Summary: Spencer and Reader has to deal with bad news and they support each other in the process.

Word Count: 7476.

Warnings: Contains mentions to illnesses, death and grief. Angst the most part, but some of relieve in the end.

A/N: Hello again lovely people. I wanted to write this fic a time ago, wasn't easy, but hope you appreciate it. Again, all the love to my beta @imagining-in-the-margins​ . Please, impressions, comments and any reaction for this one are welcomed. Thanks for reading. Thanks to @emilouu​ for suggesting the nickname for Reid’s daughter.

——————–

That Thursday I was finishing my shower when (Y/N) came into the bathroom. The water was running but I could hear when she opened the door and said my name, trying to get my attention. I closed the faucet and peeked out the curtain.

“The Day Care Center called. There are problems with the water supply and they aren’t going to receive children today. We have to decide what we are going to do. We could take her to my parents' house, but it's still early.” (Y/N) told me with concern.

"Oh. This is… unexpected.” I replied, grabbing a towel and coming out of the receptacle to dry myself. "Wait, isn't today the presentation you have with Prentiss about the BAU on the FBI’s Board?"

“Yes, it’s today at 9:00, exactly. But perhaps Prentiss could go with JJ…” said (Y/N) pondering the options.

"No way. You've prepared yourself a whole week for that. Don't worry, I'll stay with Emi. If a case comes up, I don't think it'll be a problem. I can assist from here.”

"Spencer, are you sure? I don’t want…"

"Of course. Don't worry, I'm staying with Emi today. I’ll come up with some activities to keep her busy.” I said with a smile.

"You’re an angel and I love you, you know that, right?"

"Yep. I know. I love you too". (Y/N) came up and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm going to make breakfast while you get dressed and I’m going to wake up our Sleeping Beauty."

Our little Emily Diana was already 3 years old. It felt like it was only yesterday when I took her in my arms for the first time. Now she was a smart and... very active little girl. In my opinion, a good combination between (Y/N) and me. And while my staying with her that day was unplanned, in my head I managed to organize a short list of things we could do together. 

I dressed her after breakfast and a bath, and later we concentrated on solving some animal puzzles that JJ had given Emi for her birthday. Then we took a coloring book and reviewed some letters and numbers. Of course, my daughter already knew all of them and named them without any problems. We had a mid-morning snack and then played, running around the apartment. It was certainly her favorite activity with me - in addition to the stories I read to her before bed. I'm sure I got ridiculous enough running and running away from a 3- year-old girl, but I didn't care.

The next activity was the 'tickle war'. I was lying on the couch and she was struggling against my tickling attack when my cell phone rang. I looked at the clock on the wall and it was close to 12:30. I was sure that it was (Y/N) to remind me Emi should have lunch at 1:00 p.m, so when I picked up the phone, I didn't even notice the caller ID.

"Reid ..." I replied, laughing even in my role as the 'ticklish monster'.

"Dr. Reid. Good afternoon. Addy Moller speaking." I immediately recognized the voice and the name. She was my mom's caretaker in Brookfield.

"Addy, good afternoon. Tell me how I can help you… did something happen with my mom?” My laugh passed and turned into concern.

"I'm sorry but I must say yes. Diana suffered a physical decompensation earlier today and we transferred her to the hospital. She is being monitored and tested, but at the moment everything is quite uncertain. That's why I’m calling you; I think it would be good if you could come…”. I could hear a certain caution in her voice.

"Which hospital?" I was quick to ask.

It was becoming common that my mom suffered decompensations in her physical health, but this was the first time that led her to the hospital and made them call me with that kind of urgency. I felt something in my stomach made me uncomfortable. I had the phone in my hand and was sitting on the edge of the couch. Emi stood on the sofa and clutched at my neck as if she suspected something was wrong.

"Daddy?" she asked as she tried to climb onto my back.

"I’m sorry pumpkin. Daddy was distracted by the phone. We’ll need to stop playing for now. Daddy will make you lunch while he calls mommy, okay?” She nodded. While I handed her one of his books so she could continue coloring, I dialed (Y/N), who quickly answered.

"Baby, hello! So good you called me. I was just going to call you back to remind you Emi’s lunch…” She stopped talking when she heard a sigh on the other side of the line. "Spencer...? Is something wrong?"

"My mom... is in the hospital. They just called me… and they need me to go there… now.” My voice should hardly have been heard on the other side of the phone.

"Oh, baby. Calm down. I'm coming right now”.

***

After a short brief to the team, I ran out to the parking lot. I got in the car and drove as fast as possible without being reckless. Upon arriving at the apartment, Spencer was finishing feeding Emi. Dropping my purse and jacket to the floor, I immediately went to hug him. I could see his eyes were filled with worry and stress. His body tense and his brain somewhere else. He hugged me back, holding me tight.

"I'm here. Tell me, do you want us to go with you? If you don't want Emi to go, we can leave her with my parents. I called them on the way here and they said she can stay with them.” A stifled sob on my shoulder came first before he could speak again.

"I don’t know..."

I knew that his brain was fighting beyond logic. We finally decided Emily would stay with my parents.

The trip started quietly. I could see Spencer staring out the window, phone in hand, as if he was expecting it to ring at any moment. Occasionally I took his hand, and he squeezed it hard before releasing it. Reid, being cautious as always, didn’t want to distract my driving, but his silence was killing me, knowing his brain was working at 1000%.

"Spencer, talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours. Please, don't leave me out now.” I felt like he was having a hard time swallowing. After another silent moment, he began to speak.

“It's just I always thought I was ready for this moment. But I realized I’m not”. His voice was still, but I could feel the fear in him.

"Baby, you are anticipating an outcome that we don't know will even happen." I said, trying to get him off the ledge in his head.

"Rationally I know there are possibilities. But something beyond the rational tells me exactly what is going to happen, (Y/N), and I'm not ready to let her go.” I could feel how he was trying to hold back the tears.

"I know. But if there is any hope, I think it's only fair that we can hold on to it. Can you do that?”

He nodded and returned his gaze to the window.

***

We got to the hospital and I immediately asked for my mom at the reception desk. I was referred to the 4th floor of Intensive Care, where they told me the treating doctor would explain the details. I took (Y/N)'s hand and went to the elevator. At Intensive Care they told us to wait a few minutes for the doctor to come out to see a patient. There I saw Addy in the waiting room. When she saw me, she came closer.

"Dr. Reid. It’s good you were able to come so fast”. That was her perception. Mine, on the contrary, was that I could never get there fast enough.

"How is she? What are the doctors saying?” I hastened to ask.

"Diana has been dealing with kidney problems for a long time, as you know..." She said trying to contextualize the situation.

"That's correct, I know. That’s the reason we agreed to limit medication last time."

"Indeed. But prolonged exposure throughout her life brings consequences sooner or later. Until now they were manageable, but her body is not working properly anymore. That’s why the doctors want to evaluate possible alternative treatments. But that could also alter her mental state more.”

I was silent. My mother was fighting a battle between her body and her mind now, and nothing I could do or say could help her. "We should wait for the doctor then..." I said, trying to buy time to think and assimilate what I was hearing. Addy nodded. I sat next to (Y/N) to wait. She took my hand, squeezing it every now and then to let me know she was there with me.

My mind took me to the last time that I was in a hospital waiting for news. It was when (Y/N) gave birth to Emily. Although her pregnancy had been relatively uneventful, she had to undergo an emergency c-section. I was nervous, thinking about all the odds associated with the possible outcomes. I thought that my life was about to change dramatically, and I was scared. Although JJ and Prentiss were with me, trying to calm me down, I just couldn't. I remembered my phone ringing at the time. When I saw Addy's name on the identifier, I panicked, thinking something had happened to my mom. Fear that cleared when I heard her voice.

"Mom…?”

"Spencer, honey, I know you're nervous. Your voice gives you away. I also know that my granddaughter is about to be born and you’re surely thinking of all those things that could go wrong. Just stop doing that."

"How do you know (Y/N) is giving birth ...?"

"I just know. I can feel your fear from here... and all the things that are going through your head right now."

"Mom, I don't know how to react. I'm scared, I don't know if I can do it…”

"Honey, I know that. But you need you to focus on the life that is about to see the light. Just let it happen. Don’t overthink it. Feel it and live it.”

"I don't know how to turn off my brain..."

"You can't. But you can make your heart speak louder. Honey, your wife and daughter need you, and you need them. That is all that matters.”

"Dr. Reid?”

A voice saying my name and (Y/N)’s hand squeezing me tight pulled me out of my memory. When I raised my head, I saw the doctor in front of me.

"Doctor... how is my mom?" I asked.

“We have done several tests on Diana and some results are already available. We did a few more tests to be sure. I'm so sorry to have to give you this news Dr. Reid, but Diana is not physically well. She is not reacting to the medication and internal damage will start causing her more problems within the next few hours. We can keep her sedated for as long as necessary, but her condition is unlikely to improve. It is only a matter of hours that her body stops reacting. I'm truly sorry…”

Basically, she was telling me that my mom was dying and I couldn't do anything about it. I felt dizzy. I had a hard time swallowing. I started breathing heavily. I could feel (Y/N) hugging me around my torso and resting her head on my back. It was really happening. Addy, seeing my dismay and my inability to react, began to speak to the doctor.

"Is she conscious? Can we see her?" Addy asked.

“She is sedated for now, but she’ll wake up in a little while. If you want you can be with her in the room.” Replied the doctor.

"Dr. Reid. You should be there…” Addy told me, trying to get me out of my trance.

"Baby. Addy is right. You have to go see her.” Said (Y/N). I couldn't manage to do or say anything; I just nodded, looking for the most coherent words to say.

"Thanks doctor. I'll go. Can I … can I have a moment before?” The doctor and Addy nodded and walked away. I sat on one of the benches with my head buried between my legs and my arms covering my head. (Y/N) hugged me and squeezed tight.

***

It broke my heart to see him shattered like that. I also felt guilty for giving him hope during the trip to the hospital. In 60 minutes everything had turned 180 degrees, and I watched Spencer sink deeper and deeper into anguish and sadness. I would have given anything to not see him like that. I knew there were no words of comfort to ease the powerlessness and pain of that moment, but I needed to let him know that he was not alone; that whatever happened, I was with him, and we could share this burden together.

“Spence. My love, I'm so sorry. I know I have no right to ask you for anything right now, but your mom needs you now. I’ll be with you at all times, for whatever. You know you can count on me…"

"I'm not ready..." He managed to say between sobs.

“Baby, I don’t think we’ll ever be ready for this. But look at me." I tried to pull away the arms that covered his head. "I’m with you. Please, you don't have to carry this alone. Let me be your support, please.” That was how I felt him wrap his arms around my neck and sink his face into my shoulder, crying heartily.

After a few minutes I felt his breathing begin to slowly calm down and the sobs changed to sighs. He raised his head and stared at me with a nod. "Let's go see her". He took my hand and we walked down the hall looking for her room. The reception nurse told us it was 418. We stopped in front of the glass door. From there, Diana could be seen with her eyes closed, connected to machines that monitored her vital signs, as well as her intravenous line in one of her arms.

"Do you want to be alone with her? I can stay here until you tell me." He nodded and kissed me on the forehead, entering the room. I took my phone out of my pocket. Although I still had a lump in my throat, I had to notify the team. They had to know what was going to happen.

***

I approached slowly and saw how her breathing synchronized with the sound of the machines that she was connected to. She was still sedated. I took one of the chairs in the corner of the room and pulled it over to the side of the bed. I sat up and took one of her hands, squeezing it gently. She looked so peaceful. If it weren't for the noise from the machines, I could even imagine that it was a normal day in the sanatorium, and that I was just watching her nap. I didn't know if she could hear me, but I started talking to her, anyway.

"Hi Mom. It's me, Spencer. I came as fast as I could. (Y/N) is here too. She didn't let me drive this far. You know how she is; she worries a lot when she sees me nervous. Yes, I’m nervous. I'm... I'm sad. You know I don't like to see you like this…” Clearly, I received no response. "I’ll be here until you wake up. Don’t worry. Just... rest. We can talk when you wake up... "

A frustrated sigh left my body. Everything seemed so futile to me at the time. Surreal. I looked towards the door and saw (Y/N) on the phone, scratching her forehead and then rubbing her neck. Signs of concern. I couldn't have wished for a better partner in this life; despite all the things we’d faced in our relationship, both before and after we were married, not a day went by that I wasn’t grateful to have her by my side. I remembered when I told my mom. Sure, I had already told her about (Y/N) in my letters, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized what I felt for her was true love.

"You really love her, don’t you? In your letters you always talk about her like a teenager in love.”

"I don’t know. To love I think is... a big thing. But yes, I think so. I love her. It's been like this for a while now…”

"And why didn't you tell her yet?"

"I don’t know. What if she doesn't feel the same way?”

“Honey, of course she won't feel the same. We are talking about another human being. But doesn't mean she can't love you. I think we have talked about this several times. I know you fear rejection and your father is responsible for that. We have not made your life easy, Spencer, but that doesn't mean you should run away from the possibility of being happy.”

"Should I tell her?"

"Certainly, yes. Tell her. Be honest with what you feel and what you want. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Honey, life is long and hard. And you deserve to have someone you can share that with. All of it. The good and bad."

It was after that talk that I confessed my love to (Y/N). To my surprise, she laughed, saying that she felt the same way about me for a long time. Thus, we began our relationship. Apparently, I just needed a little "push." The memory made me smile. My mom always had wise words for me. In her way of seeing life, she has helped me build mine; with the good and the bad.

When I got married to (Y/N), we managed to get my mom to be at the ceremony. I couldn't even conceive of the fact she couldn't be there. Although it did mean postponing the date a few times. Logistically it wasn’t a big deal either, we never wanted to have a great ceremony or many guests. Her family and mine, which included my mom and the entire BAU, of course. When the ceremony was over, she approached me to speak to me. Surely my smile and happiness reached to heaven.

“I’m so happy to see you like this. I think it's been years since I've seen you smile like that. Not even when you were little kid. I want you to know that I’m proud of you, of what you have achieved and of the man you have become. Today you have a new mission in your life: to make that woman as happy as she makes you feel now."

"Thanks Mom. Thanks for being with me right now. I really needed you here."

"I know darling. I'm just sorry the fact because of me you had to postpone the date so many times."

"Don´t. Don’t say that. (Y/N) also agreed that and there was no problem with that.”

"Just make her happy, Spencer. Because I already know she makes you happy. Just don't take anything for granted. Build your love day by day. Don't let the routine end up killing the love you feel for each other.”

And of course there was a lot of sense in her words. Four years had passed since our wedding, and it has not been easy. Having a relationship with our jobs was not a piece of cake. Nurturing our relationship was also part of the day to day. We had our ups and downs, but every time some obstacle came between us, I remembered those words and repeated to myself what really matters.

Deep in that memory, I didn't see when (Y/N) entered the room. I only realized her arms go around my neck as she kissed me on the head.

"Do you want me to bring you something? A coffee?" She whispered to me. I shook my head and clung to her arms.

"Stay with me for a moment, please."

She gave me another kiss on the head as a way of agreeing to my request. "Of course, as long as you need to."

We were silent for a while. She knew tears were running down my cheeks, but she didn't want to stop them, so she just hugged me tight. I'm sure tears ran down her cheeks, too. For me, for her, for both of us. We were in this together. I couldn't help but break the silence by verbalizing my thoughts.

"What if she doesn't recognize me? If I don't have the chance to say goodbye to her?" I felt my own voice break.

"Don’t think that. You are her son. Although her mind may not recognize you, surely her heart does. She has told you many times.” Said (Y/N) trying to comfort me.

It was true. On her good days and her bad days, I'd never stopped thinking about it. The last time she was lucid, a few months ago, she repeated it to me again.

"I just want to thank you for being my son. For being with me even if I'm not with you most of the time. Although my mind can't even remember your name or your face, know that in my heart, I’ll always love you as I have never loved anyone else in this world.”

"You don't have to thank me... I'm the one who is grateful to be your son."

“I know. It's just that I wish I could tell her so many things now." Although at that minute, I didn't know exactly what, but I did know that I needed to tell her things.

"Will you be able to do it? Of course you can do it.” replied (Y/N), trying to encourage me as she sat on my lap and stroked my hair, still hugging me.

We were like that for a long time; silent. This time I had neither the strength nor the interest in looking at the clock, but at one point I saw my mom's face contort, a sign the sedation was wearing off.

When I saw her open her eyes, I was afraid. On the one hand, I was relieved to see her awake again, but I was afraid that she wouldn't recognize me, and it would be the same as if she were sleeping... or worse.

"Spencer?" Hearing her voice, even if it was almost in a whisper, was a relief. (Y/N) and I immediately got up from the chair.

"Mom, I'm here." I moved closer so she could have a better view of my face.

"Sweetie. I’m sorry I scared you. I don't know why Addy called you; I feel good now."

Damn it. Hearing that broke my heart. Was she deliberately lying to me? Did she really believe it? How could I tell her something? I looked at (Y/N) with pleading eyes. I didn't know what to say. She just stroked my back as she whispered in my ear.

"Give her time. Just stay with her. I’ll go to inform the doctors she is awake.” She kissed me on the forehead and left the room. I knew it was a moment that I had to have alone with her.

***

I left the room towards the nurse's desk to report that Diana had woken up so they could contact the doctor. I didn't want to go back to the room. I knew I had to give them space and let them be alone. Despite all his fears and apprehensions, I knew Spencer would do and say the right things.

I went to one of the coffee machines and by inertia, I placed a few coins to extract perhaps the worst coffee I’d ever had in my life. But that didn't matter; at least having the feeling of doing something kept my head busy. With the cup of coffee in my hand, I sat for a few minutes on one of the benches in the waiting room.

With my eyes fixed on the dark liquid, I remembered the time I told Spencer I was pregnant. He was ecstatic. We hadn’t been consciously planning to have children, but we certainly both wanted it. The first things he said to me after "I love you" was "no more coffee," followed by "we have to tell my mom."

After our appointment with the doctor and knowing that things were going well with the pregnancy, we went to the sanitarium to see Diana. The first time we were not very lucky. She was on one of her bad days. Thankfully, she was able to recognize Spencer at the end of the visit. He was frustrated and sad, but I told him we had a lot more time to tell her and to that we could try another day. So we did; that second time we had better luck. She was much more lucid than the previous times.

“So it is true that you’ll give me a grandson or granddaughter. You haven't wasted your time…” She said, laughing.

"Mom, please." Spencer was still embarrassed by those kinds of comments.

"Spencer, no 'mom, please.' I just want to tell you both one thing: I know you’ll love that son or daughter with all your heart, but you’ll have to learn so many things! And I don't mean just learning how to change diapers or how to make a bottle – I mean how to live and let live another person who came out of your own womb, who may be the exact reflection of yourself. I think it is one of the most difficult things for a mother or father to experience. I tell you from my own experience…”

Being that Emily was still little, I didn't know if I could understand those words at their best yet, but not a day went by that I didn't remember them. Instinctively, I brought my free hand to my belly. Surely we would not only live this process with Emily. A couple of days ago I found out I was pregnant again, but I hadn't told Spencer yet. It was very recent, and I wanted to go to my first appointment before I told him. Well, there will be time for that later, I thought.

"(Y/N)?" JJ's voice brought me out of my thoughts. When I raised my head, the entire BAU team was in my view. There I realized that I hadn’t  even taken a sip of the coffee in my hand, and the smell was starting to bother me.

"Where's Reid?" Prentiss asked.

"He is with his mom now." I said, pointing to the hall where the room was. “She woke up very recently. She was sedated." Everyone gave me an empathetic look. I got up from the bench so that I could talk to them.

"How is Reid?" Rossi asked.

“Shattered. Powerless. Frustrated… I don't know what else could I say…” I shrugged and dumped the coffee in the trash can.

"And you? How are you doing?" Tara asked.

I could only scratch the base of my neck in despair. "I don’t know. I wish I could do much more... but I can only be there for him. There isn't anything else I can do.” I had not wanted to cry openly in all those hours because I was supposed to be my husband's support, but the situation was overwhelming me. In that moment, I released everything. Prentiss hugged me tight to comfort me.

"That is why we are all here, for whatever you need. We will stay here as long as necessary,” said Penelope.

"Thank you, guys. I know Spencer will appreciate it as much as I do," I said between disguised sobs on Emily's shoulder.

***

I took a deep breath and looked at my mom with a warm smile before continuing to speak.

"It’s okay, Mom. I wanted to see you anyway… that's why I'm here.” I tried to say something non-specific while finding out where we were.

"But look at this mess! These machines, these tubes… they should take all of this away from me,” she said in a frustrated tone.

"Mom... they can't. The doctors say they are necessary to monitor how you are doing and give you your medicine.” I tried to reason with her.

"The 'doctors,'" she murmured sarcastically. “Spencer, could it never be on my terms? Not even my own death?” She said, almost in a plea.

There I heard it; the proof that she knew. She was fully aware of what was going on. Would I to lie to her? I couldn't think of anything else to do.

"It’s necessary, so that you can recover."

Yes, I lied, trying to omit what had just come out of her mouth. It seemed the easiest thing to say. She looked at me with those eyes that rebuke you for lying. I felt like a child again.

“Honey… don't do that. We both know I’m not leaving here unless I’m in a coffin.”

Why did she have to be so rude while saying it? She said it as if it were the most natural and obvious outcome. Didn't she know it hurt me? Didn't it hurt her to say it?

"Mom, please... don't say that." I replied in protest.

"Do you want me to lie to you? I never liked lying to you, Spencer. You know that." Although her voice was soft, given her state and the narcotics traveling through her body, she denoted the same determination of her habitual character.

And yes; Diana Reid had never lied to me in her life, and she wasn’t going to start on her deathbed. Her ‘deathbed’. The thought of it made me finally collapse in front of her. I could see tears in her eyes too.

"Honey, look at me. I know this is difficult. Not that I have experienced it before, but we both knew this moment would come.”. I took her hand and squeezed it hard so that she knew I was listening, but I didn't want to open my eyes.

"It’s… just ... I'm not ready." My words were barely more than whispers.

"Me neither... but here we are." She squeezed my hand, and I finally opened my eyes. She had a wistful smile drawn on her face. “Sometimes we just have to let things happen. And don't think I 'm despising my life. Especially my life after having you. I have always told you that… that you are the best thing that could have happened to me in life. It would never be otherwise."

At that moment, the doctor in charge entered with some nurses. They checked the machines and brought a folder with papers that I assumed were my mom's medical records.

"Diana, how do you feel?" Asked the doctor.

"I've been better. Although at least I can recognize my son; I guess that puts me on one of my good days.” The sarcasm – my favorite inheritance. The doctor looked at me as if wanting to move away from her to talk to me.

"Mom, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

"No. Whatever you have to discuss, do it here, in front of me. I don't want anything hidden from me. And if possible, I wish I could make decisions for myself too. After all, it is me who is dying.” Her tone was serious, but her voice trembled. A deep sigh ripped from my body. Yes, I owed her. It had to be on her terms. I looked at the doctor and nodded. She understood and began to speak.

"Well. Dr. Reid, Diana. Final examinations confirm the diagnosis of failure we had detected earlier. In the last hours we have tried 3 different routes of treatment to see if we can control the damage, but… none have worked. Sedation has helped with the pain, but it’ll start to get more intense in the next few hours. We have two options. We can maintain high levels of narcotics that will lessen the pain but keep you sedated, or we can work at lower levels, but that will bring more discomfort... but you will be conscious."

Before I could say anything, my mom stepped in. "How many hours?" Asked my mom looking at the ceiling.

"It is difficult to know exactly, but our estimate is between 4 and 6 hours." The doctor tried to explain.

"I want the second option," my mom said without even grimacing. I looked at her immediately.

"But mom, that means you will feel pain and be uncomfortable..."

She cut me off immediately. "Spencer, please, I'd rather take advantage of every hour  I have left with you than be some kind of Sleeping Beauty."

"Do you agree, Dr. Reid?" The doctor asked me. I couldn’t disagree; she wanted it. I nodded.

“Well, we’ll prepare everything for dosing and monitoring of your condition. Any changes you experience and needs that appears along the way; we can make adjustments for."

"Thank you." My mom and I said at the same time. The doctor nodded empathetically and left the room.

"Spencer, I know what you are thinking now, but I thank you for letting me make this decision.”

"I know, mom. I know." I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"Well. I want to know. How is my granddaughter? How are things going with (Y/N)? Is she here? Tell me as if you were writing one of your letters. I love your letters, you know that".

I sat in the chair next to her and, without releasing her hand, I began to summarize the past few weeks just as if I were writing her a letter, with all the details I knew she wanted to know.

***

The waiting room was silent. With what little I had eaten, I began to feel sick. I had to go to the bathroom. The morning sickness had started, and in addition to the stress, it seemed to get worse. My cell phone vibrated. It was a message from Spencer: He wanted me to come to the room. I got out of the bathroom and informed the guys I had to go back. They nodded and said they would stay there and wait for news.

When I stepped inside, I saw Diana awake and with a smile on her face. Spencer saw me and got up from his chair.

"Mom, I told you that (Y/N) was here." He took me by the waist to bring me closer to where she was.

"Hello my dear. I'm sorry you have to see me this way. I hope you don't mind,” said Diana, as if it were a very normal day.

“Diana, there is nothing to apologize for. How are you feeling?”

"I think so far they have been quite balanced with the doses." She said, pointing to her intravenous line. I gave her an empathetic smile. She stared at me like she was analyzing me. That was not unusual for her, but given the circumstances I didn't think she would do it.

"How are you? How have you been feeling lately?" She asked me. I looked at Spencer, confused. I thought maybe he had said something to her about being stressed from work or my isolated headaches. He looked back at me just as confused.

"Fine. Well, there is plenty of work at BAU. And Emily is also quite amount of work.” I said, laughing. She gently nodded.

"And you’ll have more work with the new one." She said nonchalantly upon seeing my belly. I froze, immediately feeling Spencer's eyes on me. I don't know what Diana saw, but she knew immediately.

"Are you…?" Spencer asked to me.

"Honey, it's obvious. Apparently you are not paying too much attention.” Diana said. I just nodded before she looked at me again, “Darling, I'm sorry I ruined the surprise, but I'm glad to know that your family is going to grow, even though I won't be there to see it.” She spoke with a sigh.

At that time the nurses came back in to check on Diana's condition. They asked us to leave the room for a moment. In the hallway, Spencer looked at me with puzzled eyes.

"Baby, I didn't want to tell you because it's so recent. I only took the tests a few days ago. I have an appointment with the doctor next week. I’m sorry.” I tried to apologize.

"It's okay. I’m not reproaching you for anything. Come here." He pulled me with one of his hands and hugged me tight. "Sorry that I can't be more animated, but it really seems like fantastic news to me."

"You don’t have to apologize. It's not the right time now either, I know.”

"As you can see, my mom always has other plans." He said muffling his voice in my hair.

"How she is doing?" I took advantage of asking to him. He related what was coming. He looked much calmer than at the beginning of the day. Resigned? Perhaps.

Although the passing of the hours meant a painful countdown, Spencer managed to share with Diana the most intimate of her mother-son relationship. I must say I always admired the way they cared about each other. Spencer trying to be the protective son while Diana, in her role as mother, always looked to teach him new things; advise him, support him, even if they didn’t see each other on a daily basis. The kind of bond that many families, no matter how much time they spend together, never achieve.

The last medical check-up showed Diana was declining, and that pain was not so subtle without the medication. The doctor again offered the option of sedation, which Diana refused.

***

I could see her face more uncomfortable than in the prior hours. You could tell she was breathing harder and her eyes were heavier. She insisted on being conscious as far as her body would allow. I never abandoned her side. Neither of us could speak. She didn’t because it was more physically difficult; I didn’t because I felt a lump in my throat from the powerlessness of seeing her in pain. We were silent. It was early morning, but the first ray of daylight hadn’t yet appeared. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Honey, what are you thinking...?” She asked softly.

"That I don’t like to see you in pain..."

She could barely smile. "I don't care about pain. I’m happy that you are with me. That is enough for me.” She said, closing her eyes and giving a deep sigh. You could tell it was more effort than she was willing to admit.

"Mom... I..." I wanted to be honest with her, but it was hard for me to get out of my 'I'm fine' role.

"Just say it, Spencer. Don't keep it. Especially not now…” She said in an almost inaudible voice.

"Mom, I'm scared. I’m afraid to let you go, and it's not just because I love you, it's because I don't know who I am in this world if I'm not your son. If I'm not here to protect you." I started crying again.

"Spencer... that's a role you've had for a long time." She told me in a whisper.

"It’s what I am..."

"No. You, my dear son, you are more than that. What we are in the world... can change. It's part of life. You have to move forward. You have to keep going. Do it for me, for you, for your family… Please.”

"How do I do that...?" I asked almost rhetorically.

"Just do it. You've been a wonder boy for many years. You are an adult now. A loving husband, an exceptional father… Just keep going.”

"I promise I’ll try. I swear, I’ll try… ” I said, squeezing her hand.

"I know. And I know you’ll succeed. Because you are my son, and I know you and I love you.”

Those were her last words.

The next few minutes were silent. All I could do was take her hand to try and comfort her through the pain. When the grip of her hand became languid, I realized she had passed away. The constant, deafening sound of the machines was only a confirmation of what I already knew.

A sob tore from my throat. Within a second the room filled with doctors and nurses. I couldn't let go of her hand. I didn’t dare; I couldn’t. (Y/N) took my arm, helping me to release my mom's hand. Helping me let her go.

“Spencer. We have to get out of the room. Come on love, let's go.” Nodding, I followed her into the hall. (Y/N) started talking to me to get me out of my shock. "It's okay. Everything will be fine. She is fine now. She is no longer suffering. You could be with her to the end. You let her go on her terms. I’m proud of what you did, Spencer, and I'm sure that she is even more proud.” I managed to hug her and sank my head into her shoulder.

***

"I'm going to miss her so much..." He told me as I gently stroked his head, trying to calm him down.

"I know, baby. I know. But you’re not alone; we’re not alone. We are together in this. We’ll get through it, I promise."

Those were the only words that came out of my mouth. I knew the pain was not going to go away quickly. I knew this would be slow, but I was willing to do whatever it took to help him. I sincerely hoped that he knew that.

We held each other for a while. Then it was him who broke the embrace, looking me in the eyes and resting his hands on my shoulders to make sure I was paying attention to him.

“I couldn't be luckier to have you by my side. And if I have to repeat it every day of my life, I’ll do it, because I don't want to take anything for granted between us. Thank you for being with me. I love you, (Y/N)”. His words were accompanied by a warm little smile; a promise that things would be okay, eventually.

"Always. Never doubt that I love you, Spencer Reid. And I’ll be forever grateful to Diana for raising such a unique and wonderful person like you."

Before walking to the waiting room, I told him that the entire team was there. I didn't want to disturb him with a surprise at a time of such vulnerability. He nodded, taking my hand, and we continued toward the waiting room. Seeing them, he couldn't let the tears run down his cheeks. I released his hand so that he could receive everyone's affection. Another way to show him that he was not alone in this; that there were people who would always be there for him.

***

I never expected to see so many people on the day of her funeral. In addition to my current BAU team, Derek, Aaron, Alex, and Kate were there, along with some of my mom's ex-students, part of the Brookfield workers, and others I didn’t recognize. I received many hugs and words of reassurance.

It was time for my speech. I looked at (Y/N) and our little Emily, who could hardly understand what was happening. I cleared my throat and started to speak.

Of course, Diana Reid would not have liked it all to be sadness, so when I saw the audience laugh at some of the anecdotes I told, I felt that she was smiling at me from where she was now. It was my time for the last words.

“… she always had something to say… something to say to me. In her own way, she taught me to be the man I am now. I’ll forever be grateful for that. And if there is something I aspire to in my life, it is to be able to teach my daughter and my next child so many things, as my mother taught me. And I know that she is proud of me; she told me that many times. But I want to continue to honor that pride for the rest of my life. I want to continue being the worthy son that she deserves, even though her body is no longer here. Now I only have one more thing to say... something to tell you, mom. Thank you for letting me be your son. I love you."

——————–

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 3: Trivia

Hello People!

I hope you have had an amazing week and are going to have an ever better weekend. I am so done with this week. It was really crappy and I just can't wait for the beginning of next, hoping it will be better. The only positive side is that I was able to get over my writer's block and have finished about 3 new chapters.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter of Family Matters and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 3: Trivia

She closed the blinds and made sure for the fifth time the door was locked. Her breath caught in her throat and the fear and adrenaline that had rushed through her body made even Spencer Reid nervous.

"What's going on?"

"This is bad, I didn't realize the consequences of this until it was too late. I am so sorry I got you all tangled up in this mess."

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"I-" She turned and took a peek through the blinds, ensuring there was no one around. "I did not think things through. I think it's best if you go home, that way you might be spared."

"You are seriously starting to make me nervous, please tell me what's going on, how can I help?"

"There is nothing you can do; I am basically a dead woman."

"Why? Who's after you?"

"Anna Hemingway."

"Your cousin is after you? Did she threaten you or something?"

"No, she didn't have to." She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge, still glancing every now and then, making sure the coast was clear.

After her and Spencer's victory, they had both decided to go to bed, and while the rest of her family insisted on having another dinner dedicated to the couple, they had both decided best to eat and head back to their cabin. He had finished first and decided to head back, and as soon as he was gone, the memory hit her making her mistake obvious. And the main reason she had resorted to a passive competition with the world's worst cousin was clear once again. In a hurry she had returned to their cabin, ensuring she was not being followed, and locked the door, startling the doctor.

"The last time I beat Anna at something was when I twelve. We were both auditioning for the same role in our school musical. They gave me the part." He smiled, truly excited for her accomplishment, as well as happy to learn this new fact about her. "Don't get too peppy. On opening night, at Grandma's celebration for the play, I fell down the stairs."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because, Dr. Spencer Reid, as hard as it is to believe, me falling down the stairs was not due to my immense clumsiness."

"Wait, your cousin pushed you down the stairs?!" He exclaimed, truly horrified. How are children so cute and so evil at the same time?

"More like, she set her foot for me to trip on, but you get the idea." She glanced back at the door and then at the man in front of her. "I was lucky, I didn't break anything, but I have a feeling that might not be the case the next time. I also would prefer not to drown or anything like that."

"But we're federal agents, doing something to you or me would be unwise."

"You're speaking of the girl that tripped me down the stairs and thought that stealing my boyfriend and marrying him was wise."

"I'm gonna double-check the door is locked."

After hours of attempting to stay vigilant, her body had given in and she had fallen asleep. Although Spencer knew the danger, to him it was as simple as closing his eyes. She knew they were trained to deal with a lot of sick people, but he didn't understand the limits his cousin would go to destroy those who she felt wronged by. Although her main target had always been her, she once had basically ended a girl's life by getting her banned from pretty much any respectable college or job position because this one had made fun of her prom dress. Anna Hemingway was one to be cautious with, and they had both just embarrassed her in front of the people whose attention she had snatched years ago. It was worse than she realized.

"Spencer, Spencer." She spoke as she slightly moved him. He growled and moved away from her, attempting to continue his slumber. "Spencer."

"No, let me sleep." He complained.

"Spence, get up, please." After minutes of silence, she devised a new plan. "Spencer!" she screamed, making him jump, falling off the bed and landing between the edge of this first one and the door of the closet. "Oh good, you're awake."

He didn't say a word, for what seemed like centuries, and she wondered if screaming him awake was not the best decision, especially as her next request would not be something he would be inclined to.

"Sorry for that, I just needed you to wake up."

"Is there a fire I don't know about?"

"No, I just thought we could go for a run." There it was, the look Spencer had only given the unsubs he despised the most. She had earned it, but that didn't mean she liked it. "Sorry, I just, Nicole had to leave, and since I have a target on my back and there's safety in numbers... I also didn't want to leave you here alone, and vulnerable. I just felt like, despite your muscles, I am concerned you haven't yet mastered the use of your body."

"I will have you know that by all accounts I definitely know how to use my body. Quite effectively if I do say so myself, and others."

After his words, her mind went to a thought she never imagined having. She wondered if he meant it that way or she was just losing it. "Good, then you can come with me." That sentence following her thoughts was probably not ideal.

"No thank you, you can do it by yourself." She needed to change the direction her thoughts were going; they were definitely not helpful.

"Spencer, please. I am honestly a little terrified, and you should be too."

"Well, I'm not. She isn't worse than any unidentified subject we've dealt with before."

"Oh but she is. She's the worst type of unsub you could think of, but ten times worse."

"What's the worse she could do?"

"Let's not find out."

After whining from him and pleads by her, they both made their way out of the cabin. The shorts he had avoided yesterday were now covering almost nothing as they jogged. This was not a good reminder of their earlier conversation, so she simply focused on something easier: her cousin's imminent revenge. She thought it would come in the form of her accidentally pushing her into the lake, or a repeat of her falling down the stairs. She was even worried this time Spencer would be the victim since he had been the one to embarrass her. Her thoughts were interrupted by deep breaths and a yelp.

"Are you okay?"

"We've been running for hours, how dare you ask me such a question?"

She looked at her watch, "We've been running for exactly three and a half minutes. Actually, we haven't been running, more like jogging."

"How long do you usually do this for?"

"Depends on the day, but from thirty minutes to two hours."

"You need help."

"It won't be as bad, come on."

"You can go on, I am just gonna sit here and have a heart attack real quick."

"How on earth did you pass your physical?"

"I got it waved."

"Cheater."

"If it isn't it the 'it' couple of the weekend!" Suddenly the one having a heart attack was not Spencer, but her. "I didn't know you guys ran together, that's so cute!"

"Yeah, truly the reason I love her," Spencer said, a pinch of sarcasm in his voice.

"How adorable." It's coming, she could feel it. "Anyway, I was thinking, since love seems to be in the air this weekend, why don't we celebrate it by wrapping up the family retreat with a trivia night!"

"What does trivia have to do with love?" She regretted the words as soon as they came out, as Anna looked at her like she might as well be six feet under.

"Silly, the trivia would be about your significant other, of course!"

"Well, that's just-"

"Wonderful, I know!" The blonde smiled, delighted by her idea. "The family has already been briefed and they are all on board, I have started taking in questions and designed the cards, so we'll all meet around the campfire for dinner, and then we'll have trivia night!" She smiled brightly and began to leave, stopping by to appreciate Spencer's figure and palming his behind as she left.

"Did she just-?"

"Yes, yes she did."

"I need a shower."

After both had showered and changed they made their way to grandmas house, alert as to anyone following them. Most of her family had moved on from spying on them, but she knew Anna and Uncle Ernie were not that normal.

"So, what did your grandma do?"

"No one really knows, I mean it had to be good to make her so rich, but by the time my uncle Ernie was born, the eldest, she was already rich enough to sell whatever business she had and become a full-time parent."

"What about your grandpa?"

"He died before I was born."

"Oh."

They sat at the same table he had been at the day before; the chessboard was still in place. She began messing with the pieces, creating the game that always made her win, courtesy of her grandma.

"I didn't know you played."

"I too began at a very young age. I haven't really played since grandma died; she was my game partner. The only one that treated me like I was a human being." She sat down, remembering the hours she spent here when Nicole wasn't around, and everyone pretty much ignored her. "She was the only one that ever consoled me for losing my dad. Losing her was just one more box to check."

"I am sorry for your loss." He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, hoping to convey his sympathy.

"Yeah well, by how calm Anna looks right now I guess it won't be long before I join her, so we don't have to worry about that anymore."

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "So, what should we expect during this trivia night?"

"To lose, that's our safest bet."

"I don't really do losing."

"And all I do is lose, so I will be your guide this time."

The family had made their way inside, their excitement overflowing the room. She couldn't help but wish she could simply run for the hills. She knew the chances of them winning were null, because a) she needed to lose and b) Spencer and her hadn't known each other, really known each other long enough to be able to answer these questions. She wondered if that was the plan all along, that Anna somehow had found out about their lie and was using this as a means to expose it.

"Okay everybody, let's get started." Said, uncle Ernie. He wore the same clothes as their first day here. "Let us start with the competition. Since we have the newlyweds as well as the new couple in the family, I think they should make the honors."

She looked at Spencer and he smiled at her, she leaned closed and whispered. "Remember, to ease the monster, we need to lose, which shouldn't be hard, we're not even a real couple, there is no way we know enough about each other, right?"

He nodded and they both moved to the sofa that was designated as their spot, her uncle who now apparently served as the show host, handed Spencer and Tyler a buzzer, explaining whichever sounded first would get to answer the question. She mentally prepared herself, hoping she could answer enough questions to not raise suspicion but not enough to win the game, what a grand world that would be.

"Ready everybody?" everyone cheered in approval and she prepared herself. "This round is for the guys, once we finish you will pass the buzzer to your partner and at the end, we will have one round where either of you can answer. Now, the first question, what is your partner's Starbucks order?"

Spencer's buzzer went off as Tyler attempted to recall the memory. "It depends on the season. During winter and for as long as she can get it, it will be a Grande Peppermint Hot Chocolate, during the summer it will be no-coffee Double chocolate chip cookie crumble Grande Frappuccino with extra whipped cream, and no straw." She looked at him completely taken aback by his answer, how specific it was, and the fact that he knew she was a seasonal drinks person.

"Yeah, that's it." She spoke.

"Point for team FBI!" Her uncle cheered. "Next question, what is your partner's favorite color?"

His buzzer went off and the doctor spoke again, "Blue."

Ten questions later the scoreboard was 8-2, Spencer's lead, and the two questions he hadn't answered were because he decided that would be enough to lose. She didn't understand how he knew these things, or the fact that she knew what her answer for him would be, but what she did know, was that she had to be really bad in order to allow Anna to take the lead back, what she wasn't sure about anymore, was whether she wanted to let her cousin win.

"Ladies, you're up." Spencer handed her the buzzer and she smiled at him. "First question, how does your partner drink his coffee."

"That's easy. He doesn't drink coffee." She said soon after her buzzer went off. "He drinks sugar with a side of coffee, no creamer. Eighty percent sugar, twenty percent coffee."

"That is so mean to say! But it's true." Spencer agreed.

"How are you a doctor and drink so much sugar?"

"Not that kind of doctor." He clarified to the man.

"I have no idea what that means! Next question, what is the thing your partner is most proud of?"

"His job. Spencer loves helping people and using his knowledge to reunite families, he's the bravest guy I know." She smiled at him and he returned the gesture.

It was no surprise Anna was not content with the results, as the end was a 23-4 in favor of Spencer and her. As soon as the game was finished she knew that she had basically carved her own grave.

"That is not fair, they are not even really dating!" Her cousin screamed, "it's all a lie!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know your little secret, I overheard you and Nicole talking about how Spencer was not really your boyfriend and how he didn't actually have dyslexia!"

"I-" She didn't know what to say, how had she not seen her? How could she let this happen?

"First of all, I think it is very inconsiderate of you to suggest that my dyslexia is not real. I have fought so hard for such a long time to ensure my condition didn't prevent me from succeeding, going as far as getting a Ph.D. in mathematics, for someone to simply come and question my hard work." Spencer said, seemingly very upset. "Second of all, this woman right here is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will not sit here and tolerate you calling her a liar. We are in love with each other, and you as her cousin should be happy about it. Yet you seem so upset about her finding someone, it seems to me you're jealous, but what do I know, it's not like I can understand human behavior or anything. Oh, wait." He said, he took her hand and pulled her as close to him as she could. "Just leave my girlfriend alone, you took her sloppy second and married him, so what more can you want from her?"

The room fell silent, everyone eyed Spencer and Anna, trying to grasp what had just happened. "You and I both know you're lying, you two are not a real couple, you are just trying to ruin this weekend for me."

"Really, not a real couple? Then how did we end up destroying you at trivia? You made the questions Anna, I had no idea what was on them, you did. And I am not the one wearing a wedding ring. So my question is, how do you marry someone without knowing their proudest moment, or their Starbucks order?"

"Well, how come no one has ever seen you two kiss? You can learn facts about each other but that doesn't really make you a couple."

"You want to see a kiss? Fine." She turned and pulled Spencer's lips to hers. She let herself enjoy the moment, really enjoy Spencer's kissing skills, not because she wanted to or anything, but rather because that is how she should kiss him, there was no way anyone would have any doubt about them if the kiss looked authentic. Which it did, it also might have felt a little more authentic than it should but now was no the time to dwell on that.

Spencer kissed her back, creating an atmosphere in which her cousin's word didn't matter any longer, in which the humiliation her family had put her through was nothing worth thinking of, and the fact that both of them had such deep knowledge about each other only fueled it, melting her a little in her spot, she felt his teeth on her lower lip applying slight pressure and she couldn't help but wish they were by themselves right then and there.

"We get it! You guys want to take your clothes off, now please stop." Tyler's voice echoed, and the two doctors left each other's lips reluctantly, looking at him. "Now, can we please move on?"

"No! Not until they admit they are not really dating, and all this was a plot to humiliate me!" Anna screamed.

"You know what? I am not going to stand here and tolerate this behavior any longer. Bitchy Anna, you can whine all you want, but that will not change that I am with a man I love, and that loves me. I have let this family make me feel like less for long enough and I am done doing so. You can all go fuck yourselves because I am done with each and every single one of you. You allowed this crazy brat to humiliate me and treat me like I was less for long enough. Let's go home, Spencer." She grabbed him by the hand and exited the house, giving her family the middle finger before she banged the door. She walked to their cabin and gathered her stuff, him following suit. As soon as they were in the car and far enough away, she pulled over and sighed, coming down from her adrenaline rush.

"In the wise words of Penelope Garcia, that was hot," Spencer said.

"What was?"

"Everything." They laughed for a couple of minutes, the scene she had just created replaying in her mind. "I am so proud of you."

"Why? Because I gave my uncle Ernie the middle finger?"

"Because you stood up for yourself."

"Yeah, well even if she was right, I tend to get a little too angry when people call me a liar or get in my way."

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled, "How did it go, oh yes, 'Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence.' And then you commented how a man who wore sweaters in the middle of July was not going to cut you off."

"I am so sorry about that; I was just so used to being cut off I didn't want it to be a thing at work."

"It's okay, I understand. I began cutting people off because that's what most people did to me when I spoke."

"Well, that's dumb. I love hearing your facts, you have all this knowledge, and you chose to share it, people should be grateful for it."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." He smiled, "Speaking of facts, our chances of getting murdered will increase by the minute if we continue to sit on the side of the road."

"Right, forgot about that!" She turned the car back on. "Let's go home, Spencer." As his apartment complex became clear, she slowed down, making a stop right in front of it. "Thank you for coming with me this weekend, I really appreciate it."

"No problem, that's what friends are for." Before he moved to get out of the car, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being the best fake boyfriend and real friend a girl could ask for." She smiled at him, so grateful for his existence. "I will see you tomorrow morning at 5:45 am sharp. Goodnight Spencer."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow." He opened the door and walked out, waving to her before he entered his building. She sat there for a couple of minutes, taking in the past weekend. She knew her mother wouldn't let her get away with her actions, but right now that didn't matter, Spencer Reid had told her he was proud of her, he had even used the term hot which in itself was hot because she never even imagined he used that type of vocabulary.

Regardless, she stood up for herself, she let Anna have it, and Spencer was proud of her. It seemed like a win-win. She drove home, a smile on her face.

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter XII]

Word count:  9,092 (heh)

Warnings: vulgar language, and uh, a teeny tiny bit smutty 

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

Edit: AO3 link

A/N: Late again. I’ll stop apologising now because it’s getting a little out of hand. Ignore the caption in the gif and focus on his face (and the outfit...). I couldn’t find another gif.

And, oh, the reader remains nameless.

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“Just pick one, Mal,” I complained. “They all look the same, anyway.”

Mallory fixed her green eyes on me with a sour face through the boutique’s mirror, where she had been modeling pairs of shoes for the last hour. This was the sixteenth pair, by my count, and she had reserved 4 other pairs to pick from, which she “absolutely adored and would look fantastic with other outfits”. The shop assistant was waiting by the pairs of shoes, a tiny smile frozen on her lips in pretend amity or perhaps thinking about how fat of a commission she’d earn on account of Mal’s shopaholic tendencies.

Two years had gone without much talk between Mal and I, and I found that a few things hadn’t changed: her proclivity for spending incredible amounts of money in clothes and her forgetfulness. The last of which landed me in a Gloucester boutique with her because she’d forgotten to pack high-heels for the wedding. She’d called me earlier and invited me to have lunch with her and then go shopping. Upon finding a store that appealed to her taste, though, she forced me into the store with sweet promises of delicious food later. My stomach grumbled like it was angry at me for having agreed to it.

“I’d forgotten how much of a pain in the arse you become when you’re hungry,” Mallory said as she flopped next to me on the canape where I sat. I shot her an annoyed look and she giggled as she started undoing straps around her ankles. “I’ll pay for your desert!” Instantly, I opened a large grin. And she chuckled. “Glad to see your sweet tooth remained intact.”

My grin widened to a more genuine one. Mallory and I still had a lot to catch up when it came to our friendship but it wouldn’t be too much work, not when an easy sense of familiarity permeated our banter.

My complaint was enough to make Mallory decide and pay. It wasn’t much of a decision because she still paid for three pairs of shoes. Earlier, when she’d tried on the tenth pair I pointed out that she only needed one pair of shoes for the wedding but she shrugged it off, so I knew it was pointless to tell her again. How she would fit those new additions into her suitcase, and her closet back in London, was her problem.

Once we were out of the boutique, Mallory still looking forlornly at a pair on the display that was too expensive even for her, the bright sun of midday hit our eyes, making both of us blink in surprise. Clearly the hour we spent cooped inside a store was enough for England’s weather to shift out of sorts.

Considering the unlikely sun and the pleasant temperature, we chose a restaurant that had tables on the outside where we could bask in the sunlight and watch the influx of people walking towards Gloucester Cathedral. From where I sat, I could only see part of it but towers peaked a couple of roads over, providing a glimpse of how big the structure sprawled. It looked like an entirely different place during the day. Not at all spooky and mysterious as it had appeared the past night. Watching a group of nuns filing past me towards the cathedral, I smiled, wondering how horrified they would be if the priest shared with them about the encounter he’d had. I’m sure there would be tales about the two creatures dancing and then vanishing in the blink of an eye, and how it would be ascribed to either devils or angels making their presence known. Oddly, I wished for the first.

“What are you smirking about?” Mallory asked in her best teasing tone.

“Nothing,” I said, archly.

“Uh-huh.”

She didn’t have any more time to tease me because a waiter came to our table with menus. To the surprise of nobody, after a show of reading the entire menu, Mallory chose fish and chips and a glass of white wine. It was a trustworthy dish in any part of England, she always said, but it was also her favourite. I, for once, was more adventurous and chose baked lamb with garlic accompanied by sautéed potatoes, onions and aubergines. I saved myself from alcohol. I would need it later, for courage, I told myself. And also for the tinge of regret casting pinpricks on my heart.

“So,” Mallory began, swirling the white wine on her glass as we waited for our food. “Do you have a date for tonight?”

“Yes,” I replied simply, taking a few gulps of my water.

“And…?” She prodded.

“You tell me yours first,” I said. If I could bargain with her and she mentioned someone I knew, perhaps I would have a chance to get back at the teasing that was sure to come.

“Sean Larkin. The lean blond from the adjoining finance firm?” She sighed. “He wanted me to have lunch with him today but I waved him off. I’m saving myself for the wedding.” She wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. As if Mallory would save anything for marriage.

“Isn’t he too young by your standards?”

“He’s older than me by a couple of years,” she retorted. “And look who’s talking about age standards! Didn’t you hook up with Ethan Prescott, our ethics professor, inside his office?”

“That was you, Mal.” I snickered at the blank look on her face. “Have you checked for Alzheimers with a doctor?”

“Oh, quit it.” She laughed into her glass, fogging it with her breath, before taking a sip. “My memory is completely fine. My body count is the problem. Now it’s your turn.”

“Maybe you don’t remember him but you know when last week you and I were supposed to go to Camden–”

“Oh my god, it’s the BMW guy!” She squealed. Her wine swung dangerously to the cup’s edges and she set the glass on the table. “Y/N, he’s your client.”

“Is not,” I countered, smiling impishly. It felt like college all over again when we would talk endlessly about boys during the early morning hours in our room. “He’s Renfield’s client. I’m just filling in for him while he’s away.”

“I bet you’re the one being filled–”

“Jesus, Mal!”

“What!” She threw her hands up in defense. “It’s just obvious you two are, you know, doing the deed.”

Clearly, Mallory also managed to preserve her crass manners when it came to guy-talk but still kept a strict rule over swearing. Figures.

“We’re not.”

She stared at me, open-mouthed.

“But but… You said he was yours. What– why not?”

“Because he’s not exactly the ideal person in mind to have as a romantic interest,” I said with a shrug.

“Well, is he nice?”

I considered it, chewing on my cheeks.

“Sometimes. Most of the time,” I corrected, wondering if my response could be linked to a case of Stockholm’s Syndrome. Perhaps I should suggest it be renamed Wallachia’s Syndrome. “But he’s in a tireless pursuit to, well, seduce me, for a lack of a better word, so of course he’s nice to me. But is he a nice person? No.”

“In what sense?”

In the sense of murdering people because he was bored, in the sense of enslaving my mentor and giving me no choice whether I want to be like him or not.

“He’s just not a nice person, Mal,” I explained poorly. “Believe me.”

“Okay. But do you like him despite that?”

I drew a big breath, shutting my eyes against the harsh sunlight. A veil of red coated my vision behind my eyelids and I thought of the red in Count Dracula’s eyes. A slight prickling on my neck reminded me of his mouth brushing the skin there before closing over it. The bond liked him, I knew that but I couldn’t explain it to Mallory.

“You know when you drink wine with an empty stomach?” I asked when I opened my eyes. She lifted her glass in a mock toast. “No, white wine is too light. Red wine, specifically. It’s like that being around him.” Mallory didn’t seem to understand, and neither was I making a lot of sense to myself, so I continued. “Everything feels a little numb and a little too hot, like I’m feverish. My lips, the tips of my fingers, my legs. And there’s a queasy feeling on my stomach, that’s not all bad, you know. It’s thrilling and also frightening,” I scoffed. “And I have the most outlandish thoughts when I’m around him. I can see myself doing things I would never do, and have done quite a few of them, actually. It’s bizarre. Like I’m drunk but not really.”

And much like wine, the bond made me do and feel things that weren’t real. Although one could argue that alcohol brought our truest selves to the surface. I shuddered at the thought.

“So you like him?” Mallory questioned, looking uncertain.

“I like how he makes me feel. And I guess I do like him, to an extent. But he scares me, Mal, he really does. And I shouldn’t like him if he scares me.”

“Has he hurt you?” She asked slowly, trying to sound gentle, I guessed, but it came out more like a snarl.

“Not really, no. Not physically. Emotionally, though, a little bit.” Seeing the somber expression on Mal’s face, I waved a hand. “Nothing to worry about, I can take care of myself. That’s beside the point. He frightens me, is all.”

“Maybe it’s not fear of him, Y/N. Maybe that queasy feeling is just fear of letting go. You were always a bit of a control freak when it came to your emotions.”

“I guess that hasn’t changed,” I muttered. “Can I have a sip of that?” I held a hand towards her wine glass.

She pushed it across the table for me. Cold, soothing liquid washed through my tongue and I swallowed it down eagerly. When I returned the glass to Mallory, less than half of it remained.

“Some sip,” she remarked.

“I needed it.”

She bobbed her head in agreement and a strand of baby blond hair escaped from her braid, coming to rest over one of her eyes. She blew it away and it fluttered behind her ear.

Our food arrived and I was glad to have something to concentrate on instead of what I felt or did not feel.

Mallory was kind enough to change the subject as we ate, so we spoke mostly of Sean, her date. They had been seeing each other for only two weeks and she was still determined into finding anything fun about him but so far she was unsuccessful. While Mal was too benign to say it, I knew Sean would be fated into following her around like a puppy until she found someone else to amuse her. Next, we spoke of Evelyn and to my surprise, and secret enjoyment, Mal didn’t seem to favour her anymore that I thought the woman deserved.

“I thought you were friends,” I said as I stole another sip of her wine.

“I thought so, too, but she’s become such a hag lately. I think it’s because she found out I have a higher score of winnings in court than her but that shouldn’t get in the way. I mean, you’ve got us all beat and you don’t see me hassling you. She just can’t admit she’s not the best at everything she does. And she didn’t invite me to be a bridesmaid, can you believe that?!”

“Bitch,” I said as a form of agreement.

“Cheers to that.”

After we finished with our lunch, I ordered a piece of blueberry pie, which I ate with Mallory’s help since I’d been sipping on her wine all throughout our meal.

We said our goodbyes not long after that. Mallory had to rush back to Berkeley, where she was staying with Chelsea and Sarah, because she hoped to be the first one to shower. According to Mal, Chelsea spent an eternity in the bathroom and wouldn’t let up even if she and Sarah almost broke the door down with all their knocking.

I watched as Mallory drove away in her car, almost hoping that we could remain stuck in that afternoon for longer, only so I wouldn’t have to think about the incoming night and the certainty that my heart would break, bond or no bond.

At least now I would have Mal to help me pick up the pieces and mend them back together.

__________________________________________________

Soft, orange clouds streaked the purplish sky in long and haphazard puffs as I waded down the slope leading to Berkeley Castle. It looked more like a fortress than a castle with how it circumvented a courtyard. Small windows decorated the austere exterior built from grey and maroon bricks. The roofs squatted low in true medieval style, with only a few chimneys disrupting the straight lines. Beyond the castle, the sky was already a deep shade of blue, casting a blanket of stars over the property. From where I stood I could see Gloucester Cathedral peaking in the distance, nothing more than a severe silhouette against the remains of daylight.

Count Dracula should be waking up now, or making himself ready for the wedding.

If by some miracle, the Sun didn’t set, he would never leave his hotel, and I wouldn’t have to carry out the plan. Dracula and I could have a little more time; just enough for him to tell me tales of times past and for him to find another impossible place to break into.

Zoe would be terminally mad at me if I skipped the plan on a mere and futile whim. And terminally dead, as well. Sparing myself from guilt shouldn’t be more important than Zoe’s chance at living. And I wasn’t about to throw away the very thing I strove for since I set that deal simply because I was having doubts.

My clutch bag, tiny as it was inside my hand, cast a heavy weight on my shoulder from the pill and the pen filled with Zoe’s blood.

“It’s the right thing to do,” I muttered quietly as I carried down the slope, hitching my dress up my ankles so I wouldn’t trip. “Because I’ve paid such care to what’s right over the past years.”

“Y/N!”

I turned my upper body to look behind me, too afraid of losing balance on my heels to fully pivot.

Mallory waved at me from the top of the hill. Even from afar I could tell she looked stunning, all long limbs showcased by a champagne coloured strapless dress. Her blond hair was slicked back tightly to her scalp, a precious stone necklace winked back at me when she motioned for me to wait for her. A shawl from the same colour of her dress was wrapped around her shoulders, twined about her forearms.

Chelsea and Sarah spilled out from a taxi behind Mallory. Chelsea had on a light blue flowy dress that complimented her golden skin nicely and Sarah wore a midnight green gown with a neckline so plunging it was a surprise I couldn’t see her bellybutton. Both of them wore their hair up in chignons. The three of them interlaced their arms for balance as they started down the slope.

We’d met the same fate of descending a slope in high heels, apparently. The line of cars intercepting the road to the castle’s gate was so ridiculously long from all the guests on the way, that I’d thought it would be faster if I abandoned my taxi and went the last couple of metres on foot. Now that sweat slicked my forehead and threatened to smear my makeup, I was regretting that choice.

My high heels dug uncomfortably on the soles of my feet but I endured the pain as I waited for them to reach me. Concentrating on not falling was an easy way to keep my mind off of what was about to come.

“Oh!” Said Chelsea, staring at me with wide eyes, when they were close enough. “From up there your dress looked black.”

“Evie will arrange your murder today, you know that, right?” Sarah told me, her eyes sweeping down on me appraisingly.

“What they mean is that you look amazing,” Mallory said, glaring to her left at both women. They made sounds of agreement.

My dress was constructed in a deep plum from silk taffeta, a lustrous fabric that made it look like it had more than a single shade, so I could understand Chelsea’s assumption. It criss-crossed over my chest and back in twisted straps that appeared black, purple and, in certain lights, violet. The dress’ bodice clung to my torso but fabric cascaded freely from the waist down. When I walked it embraced every curve of my legs as it bounced around me like it was liquid.

True to Diana’s wishes, who wanted me to make Count Dracula faint upon laying eyes on me, I would bet that was something I could probably do without the aid of Zoe’s blood. However, the prospect of knocking him to his knees didn’t seem so appealing when I knew I would never have the opportunity of doing it again.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to sound pleasant and failing miserably if I was to take their expressions as truth. “So does everybody.”

Mallory pulled me to her side and laced my arm with hers.

“Are you okay?” She whispered to me as all of us continued our journey downhill.

“Yes,” I told her.

She narrowed her eyes at me but I shook my head as a silent request for her not to pry. There were moments that Mallory’s keen perception of my mood was a blessing; this wasn’t one of them.

Locking arms with three other women proved to be a challenge, an extremely fun one, especially when Chelsea lost balance, nearly tumbling down and dragging Mallory with her. Sarah and I were left to hold them up which rendered a few belly-aching laughs from all of us. When we finally got them up on their feet, it was my turn to shift my heel at an odd angle and hold on to Mallory’s shawl for dear life, nearly strangling her. Mallory held onto Chelsea and nearly knocked Sarah off her feet. Although we were all cackling madly at our distress, a few men in tuxedos, more guests, were kind enough to provide us with an arm to balance ourselves until we reached Berkeley Castle’s main gate.

My laughter faded into nothing as I set eyes at the woman standing at the gate. Even in heels she was tiny, her head barely reaching some of the guests shoulders as she waved them in after checking each of their names on a list. Her pixie red hair was spiky at the ends and, as if I needed any more confirmation other than her height and hair, the small crystal piercing on her nostril identified her as Sylvia, the woman tasked to switch on the UV lights down on the garden later. If she knew my face, she made no movement to acknowledge me.

As Chelsea gave her our names, I peeked down the ledge and, sure enough, down a steep fall stood a garden and a rectangular artificial pond, its surface dotted with water lillies and white rose petals. My eyes traveled around, searching between bushes and trees for spotlights suggesting the possibility of UV lights but found none except tiny floor sconces, casting wavy reflections on the water.

“That staircase leads down there,” Sylvia said in a conversational tone; a clever way of letting me know everything was set up as it should. “You can reach it through that path if you want to have a stroll through the property later.”

I looked at the direction where she pointed, taking note of it, and nodded.

“Thank you. I will.”

I followed the girls through the arching gate, too absorbed in trying to level my heartbeat to pay any attention to the somber beauty of the courtyard. However, the Great Hall managed to shake me out of my stoic resignation and I gazed around me with utter admiration.

The room wasn’t particularly large but it was formidable in decor where size lacked. The ceiling hunched high above in curved wood beams, casting the illusion that we were beneath an old ship’s underbelly. Tapestries hung on the farthest wall bordering a fireplace large enough to fit 5 people standing up. Windows receded in alcoves inside the stone walls. A variety of ivory flowers, inky purples and rosés the colour of bitten lips flanked the entire room. Rows of white chairs on each side of the aisle were intertwined with purple ribbons. More flowers spiraled up into some sort of wooden gallery, engraved with several coats of arms in murky colours.

Mallory tugged on my elbow so I would sit next to her and Sean, her date, who looked absolutely smitten by her –  the fool – that he barely paid any attention to my cheery hello.

“Where’s– what’s his name again?” she asked me while I smoothed my dress after sitting down.

“Dracula.” I blew out a breath. “He’ll be here for the reception.”

If I was in a better state of mind I would’ve waved the fact that he was royalty just to see Mallory squeal in joy but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

She was about to ask me something else but music suddenly sparked to life, silencing every person and as one, we all stood up. The music came from above so I turned around briefly, trying to gauge where it came from, and found that a quintet played at the top of that podium.

Evelyn’s soon-to-be husband was not at all what I expected from a woman of her calibre, gorgeous as she was, so I assumed that he had to be extremely wealthy to make up for his mousey face. One would think a bride would be more focused on walking down the aisle and gazing at her beloved but not Evelyn – she found a breach to stab daggers at my dress with her hazel eyes and, finding myself bitter, I flashed her my most goading smile. Her pace vacillated for a moment and I looked around us to see if anyone had noticed but she carried on not a second later, staring ahead of her with vicious determination. The ceremony proceeded after we were all sat and I listened to their vows absentmindedly. I knew what was coming: for poorer or richer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, and at last, till death do us part. Although Evelyn and Rupert – not ashamed to say I only discovered the groom’s name when the minister mentioned it – were doing a lengthy and embellished version of it.

Till death do us part.

“Mal,” I whispered to her as Rupert was declaring his eternal love to Evelyn. Mallory bent her head closer. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“I was always the one with the weird questions so I’d say you’ve got credit to spend,” she whispered back.

“Would you live forever if you could?”

She evaluated me for a long moment.

“What are the conditions?”

The corners of my lips tugged up. Ever the lawyers, the pair of us.

“You would have to leave everything behind. Start another life as a new person but you’ll look the same forever.”

An undead person, I meant to say.

“Yeah, I would,” she said but she answered too quickly for my liking.

“Would you kill for it?” I continued.

She gaped. Careful consideration passed through her green eyes.

“Lots of people would.”

“But would you?”

“I’m terrified of dying, Y/N,” she confided. “Of growing old and forgetting things, forgetting my own name or what something’s called. And if I’m being shallow, I’m terrified of becoming an ugly old lady. I wouldn’t really be myself if it came to that, would I? I like me as I am, now. So yeah, hypothetically speaking, I would kill someone for it. Wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I mean… I’m not sure. Growing old doesn’t bother me. I just can’t think of abandoning everything that I once was and becoming someone else just so I can live forever.”

“We do it all the time.” She grinned sheepishly. “Remember what the Mad Hatter tells Alice?”

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re the one obsessed with that damn book and you know I don’t remember.”

“I’ve got a sucky memory but it’s something to the effect of Alice not being the same Alice as before and that she’s lost her muchness. Anyway, we’re constantly changing, little by little, it’s up to us if we become more than before, or less.”

“I don’t think that’s what Lewis Carroll meant by that.”

“Well, that’s how I choose to look at it. So, really, how much more can I become if I live forever? There’s lots and lots of possibilities for little old me and I don't want to die before I meet all of them.”

“So you’d kill someone for that?”

“In a heartbeat.” She nodded. “Do you plan to tell me why you’ve asked me this?”

“Maybe one day if I somehow become immortal?”

“Which is never. Got it. I’ll shut up now.”

Mallory turned and sat up straight, oblivious to the veritable chance of immortality.

Possibilities.

That was one way to look at it. An extremely optimistic and selfish way to look at it but I never claimed to be selfless. Optimistic, however, I was far from. But just as Mallory had said, we were always changing.

How far was I willing to go for change? I liked myself just as I was now and I couldn’t picture myself literally sucking the life out of people so I could have a chance at more.

Which version of me was I talking about? Me, who I’ve always been; safe, calculated, blunt. Or the one who enjoyed playing with fire as much as she did reading books?

The promise of excitement; that’s what Count Dracula said he’d found in my blood. Imagining my life for the next five years evoked no happy feelings. Where would I be? Married with kids, doing the same thing until my body shriveled and I died? A regular husband who carried groceries and did the dishes, and sometimes, when he remembered it, took me somewhere nice. How awfully… pedestrian.

A life clad in dusk, traveling places to see more than an average person could perceive and waltzing inside churches as I laughed in the face of god… That certainly sounded more appealing. And lonely.

Could I live forever with Count Dracula? Would he be all I would have for the rest of time? No Mallory, no Diana, no Renfield. No mum and dad. Just us.

A roar of applause and whooping rescued me from dwelling on that any further. Evelyn and Rupert must have sealed the deal with a kiss to cause all that commotion. I joined the raucous by sticking two fingers on the side of my mouth and whistling loudly enough to make Mallory and her date wince and laugh.

Not long afterwards, the guests were led to another chamber inside the castle, the Long Drawing Room according to the plaque, while the Great Hall was organised for the reception. When we returned, various tables were set elegantly in shades of cream and more flower arrangements in light pink and purple decorated each of them.

Locating the partner table was easy; all I had to do was look for the middle-aged white men with the most disdainful poise. Of all twelve people sitting at their table, only five were women and those were some of the partners’ wives. I made sure to make eye-contact with Evelyn as I dragged Mallory and Sean along with me and flopped down next to Talbot – Evelyn’s mentor. Mallory appeared to be on cloud-nine to be sitting there. As for me, I could barely summon pleasure at the look of utter disbelief and rage in Evelyn’s face.

Hours passed in the company of red wine, champagne and food, while I occasionally cast looks at the archway under the gallery, hoping to see Count Dracula making his entrance. I showered Mallory with compliments when I could so she could get the attention from the big bosses and deviated the subject to her whenever a partner made remarks about my work. At one point, I spotted Raoul, the “waiter” who was in on the plan, and he nodded at me solemnly. Photographers came and blinded us with their camera flash. I was certain that I would be staring in the direction of the archway in all of the photos but at least Renfield would get to see Evelyn’s sullen expression to be in the same picture with me.

A hand pressed my shoulder from behind, fingers squeezing. Swiveling my head, I saw Mallory, eyes wide.

“Hell’s bloody bells.”

That was the closest to a curse Mallory would ever get and I immediately turned my head in the direction she was looking at.

“Fuck,” I sighed. A sigh because my throat wasn’t prepared to produce a sound.

Count Dracula stood under the archway, head tilted back as he took in the surroundings, eyes ever watchful. He donned a longer coat than was usually called for in an average tuxedo, overtop of a white waistcoat and white dress shirt. Wound tightly around his neck, beneath a white bow tie, was a heavy pendant in a thick cord of silk. A wine coloured silk, which went perfectly with my dress.

The outfit did justice to his royal title flawlessly.

I stared for a long moment, willing him silently to look at me and, at the same time, wishing that he didn’t catch sight of me, turned back and left.

“He’s looking for you,” Mallory told me over my shoulder. I simply nodded. “Well, go, silly.”

She took my glass from me and shoo-ed me out of my seat.

Though my knees wobbled as if I was some lady fanning herself over him, my feet were capable enough of moving on their own and I started weaving through tables to reach him. My ears caught Sarah and Chelsea gushing over him from a couple of tables over and I picked up my pace when Sarah suggested to Chelsea that one of them went to greet him. For a moment I was distracted apologising to a waiter for nearly knocking his tray to the floor and when I looked back at Count Dracula, my breath hitched in my chest.

Dark eyes surveyed me from head to toe in what I would’ve called a leer if he were anyone else. My strides grew smaller as my cheeks burnt hot. I was blushing – actually blushing to the colour of a tomato no doubt, as if I was sixteen years old again. I hoped he would meet me halfway and spare my legs from giving out at any moment but he stood there, hands laced behind his back as he waited, openly lusting after me in front of a hundred people. The plan of making him faint was backfiring horribly and my mouth curled into a reluctant smile when I realised that I didn’t give a damn.

When I finally reached him, my hands rose voluntarily, eager to feel the texture of his attire, to measure the expanse of his chest as if my eyes weren’t enough, but, realising what I was about to do, I started lowering them. Dracula caught my hands and placed them on his chest.

“Touch,” he said, a suggestive gleam in his eyes.

And I did.

My hands ran up his shoulders, noting that his lapels were also silk and that the suit fit him impeccably, like he had it tailored. The buttons on his shirt were rubies encrusted in silver, or perhaps white gold. Either way, each of those buttons probably cost a fortune. The pendant vaguely resembled a crusader cross except it flared at the edges. I took it between my fingers to examine the design adorning its center. A dragon stood there, tail coiling and wings unfurling around its body. It looked like the dragon on his ring I’d seen a week ago and, once again, I found an inscription in latin.

“Societas Draconistarum,” I read, poorly. “ Draco – dragon, isn’t it?” Memory jogging, I glanced up at him. A small smile tugged at his mouth, an odd expression of pride on his face. “Is this the emblem of the Order of the Dragon?”

“You did your research well,” he remarked.

“Had to. How often does someone meet a historical figure?” I adjusted the pendant so it laid squarely over his collarbones. “I’m surprised I still remember the name of your secret society, it seems like it was forever ago since I read about it.”

Calling it a secret society was far from the truth; I meant to needle him so he would elaborate on it but when he didn’t, I sent my eyes away from the pendant to focus on his face. I caught him looking down at me over his nose, lips slightly parted to reveal the tip of his tongue tracing his bottom lip. I dared to believe that he hadn’t heard a word of what I’d said, too busy fantasizing about something.

His hands landed on my waist, forcing me closer. They skimmed down, exploring the curves of my hips and squeezing them briefly before moving up again.

“Everyone is watching us,” I told him, grabbing each of his wrists. I couldn’t look past him but I could feel their stares.

“Don’t care,” he said curtly, ignoring my grip. “You touched. It’s only fair I do the same. You are a vision, my darling.”

A lustful fire blazed behind his eyes and I shuddered. I dropped my hands, not minding that people were quite literally gawking at us, and allowed him to continue his investigation.

A hand slid to my back, fingers kneading my flesh gently as he examined the dress, like he was making sure this ‘vision’ of his was real. His other hand drifted up to follow the contours of the bodice, a finger tracing the seam that led up to dress’ cleavage and then its straps crossing over my chest. I gasped as warm fingers brushed my collarbones and led a path up my neck and finally stopped to caress my cheek. His touch became tender as he reached my face, stroking my skin lightly and making me lean towards his hand, like a sunflower seeks the sun.

“I’m tempted to shower you with silk and taffeta gowns so you can wear them for me every night,” he said softly. “And so I’ll have the pleasure of tearing them off.”

“There’ll be no tearing off anything.” My voice trembled. “This is an extremely expensive dress.”

“Ah, I’ll get you how many dresses you want. Don’t worry about this one. And I can be careful, if you wish. Although I want nothing more than to ravish you.” My skin crawled and he smirked as he caressed down the lengths of my arms, making me shiver. “I see. No need to be careful, then.”

“What I meant is–” I cleared my throat “–this dress isn’t coming off for you. In any shape or form.”

“You can keep it on, just as well. It’ll be no trouble.”

If he looked at me for any moment longer, I would do something drastic, such as grabbing him by the hand and taking him somewhere inside the castle where he could make good on all those fantasies.

I swallowed dryly.

“How do you like the castle?” I asked.

Dracula snorted, apparently amused by my attempt to deviate the subject, but he kept his hands on my arms, trailing up and down.

“Nervous again? Pity.” He looked around and I started breathing properly. “I prefer my own castle.”

“You still have a castle?”

“If it has remained untouched in the last century, yes.” Then he frowned. “It’s very likely it has been burnt to the ground now.”

“Why would that be?”

He grinned.

“The locals weren’t very partial to my presence in Wallachia. I imagine they burnt it as soon as they realised I wasn’t coming back.” He shrugged. “Unfortunate, if that’s the case. My library could have rivaled Captain Nemo’s.”

“Oh!” I grinned. It seemed forever ago since I had eyed Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas in my collection and giggled upon taking it from its shelf and shoving it inside my purse. “Did you finish reading it?”

“Just yesterday, actually. Fantastic how Jules Verne predicted most things we have today, and how some of them are already obsolete. I would’ve liked to meet him.”

“So you could’ve drank him?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “Thank you for the book, I found it very enjoyable. I’ll read it again in French if I come across an edition, I think various things were lost in translation. Captain Nemo is an interesting character, although a little too morose for me. I suppose he’s your favourite.”

“He is everyone’s favourite. Jules Verne wrote more books on him because of it.”

“I would like to read them. Do you have them in your library?”

“No but Mallory does. She lent me hers when we were in college.”

If he was to spend the next years – or the rest of his existence – caged, then perhaps I could see to it that he got a few books to entertain him. I would have to make a list.

“Ah, yes, the blond coming towards us, isn’t that she?” Count Dracula nodded, eyes fixed behind me.

I pivoted to see Mallory, dragging Sean behind her. I kept my gaze focused on hers to avoid making eye contact with one of the dozens of people staring at me and Count Dracula. We had put on quite a show to have that many sets of eyes on us.

“Y/N,” she began when she reached me. “The bride and groom will have their first dance now. You must’ve missed the announcement.” Her eyebrows jerked up trying to convey something along ‘ you rascal ’ before she looked past me, her doe eyes focusing on Count Dracula. “I’ve heard loads about you. Dracula, isn’t it?”

“Mal…” I complained.

“Did you now?” Count Dracula said, tone all honey as he placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. He rounded me, stopping at my side, and letting one hand drop. “I would say I’m surprised but that would be a lie.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mallory. Y/N speaks greatly of you.”

Until a minute ago, I had never spoken about her to him so I knew he was being courteous, although my blood probably did speak great things of her.

Dracula accepted Mallory’s extended hand and, instead of shaking it, he turned it so he could plant a kiss on top of it. He’d done the same to me when I first met him. Her mouth fell open and Sean’s ears turned red as he pulled Mallory back by her arm. She swatted Sean away.

“He’s not British,” I said, trying to assuage them. “Eastern Europe is quite old-fashioned in some ways.”

“Forgive me,” said Dracula, looking like he wasn’t sorry at all with that smug smile plastered to his face. “I’m afraid I’m still adapting and haven’t managed to shrug off the education in which I was raised.”

“Which education was that?” Sean asked between gritted teeth.

“An aristocrat’s one.” Dracula smiled.

Mallory’s eyes widened until they were about ready to pop out of their sockets.

“Show-off,” I muttered, elbowing the Count lightly.

A group of people were converging around the dance floor and I laced my arm with Count Dracula’s.

“We’ll miss the first dance,” I said, and nudged Mallory with my hip so she would stop gawking. She nodded weakly and went ahead with Sean. “She’ll never shut up about you now,” I muttered to Count Dracula as we followed them.

“Good. From what I gather, Mallory has always been very encouraging of your endeavors. Perhaps she will give you the final push.”

“Towards you?”

“Yes, and I’ll gladly receive you.”

“With open arms and fangs,” I grumbled.

“How tragic,” he shot back, chuckling.

A waltz started as we reached the bundle of people and I saw Evelyn and Rupert entering the dancefloor just before they started swaying to it. The smile on her lips seemed genuine so I supposed that although her husband wasn’t exactly attractive, she did have feelings for him. The bitch had a heart, after all.

The guests clapped furiously when their waltz stopped. Another waltz followed, less upbeat than the previous and what sounded like more strings attacking the melody, and couples looked at each other, waiting to see who would be the first ones to join the bride and groom.

Count Dracula untangled my arm from his and took my hand inside his not a moment later. With all my training from last night, I let him lead me to the dance floor, forgetting all about Evelyn’s scathing stare, and smiling up at him as I set a hand on his shoulder. We started slowly, following the melody as more couples joined us, but when the tune’s pace picked up and Dracula moved to accompany it, I nearly twisted my ankle.

“Did you forget everything I taught you last night?” He provoked.

“No.” I furrowed my brows, offended. “I was wearing boots yesterday. High heels aren’t exactly waltz friendly for a beginner.”

Dracula’s hand on my back moved to fully encircle my body and, in one move, he lifted me and smashed my chest to his. When he set me down, my face was closer to his, closer than I ever was to him when it came to height, and my feet kept moving, although I wasn’t making an effort to. The softness under my heels proved to me that I wasn’t touching the ground and I laughed, realising me that he had set me over his own feet and had continued to dance like my weight was nothing. Guests around us snickered, prompting me to laugh more.

My nose brushed his as my laughter died down and my eyes strained to focus on something in the close proximity. I could feel every inch of his body shaped to mine and that queasy feeling I’d told Mallory about settled in my belly. A mere movement of his feet could sway me forward and brush our mouths together.

My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. It beat madly against my ribs like it was a caged animal. Could Count Dracula feel its thud inside his chest due to our nearness? As if it was his own heart, beating lively for the first time in the last five centuries?

I sighed, pressing my cheek to his. Count Dracula nuzzled closer until I felt his lips grazing my earlobe and sending a wave of arousal down my body.

“Aren’t you worried about ruining your shoes?” I said into his ear.

His chest heaved under mine and I wondered if that was him taking a deep breath of my scent.

“Not at all,” he responded. “They are disposable but I shall keep them, if only to admire the dents your high heels will leave on the leather.”

A grin took my mouth, making my cheeks hurt from opening so wide.

“Does your castle look anything like this one?” I asked him, attempting to focus less on how his body felt against mine.

“Mine has more towers and it sits far up on a mountain peak. It’s bigger than this one. Hence it was difficult to keep it to pristine condition, especially because I had no servants after I became what I am today. I frighten people, can you imagine that?” His chuckle tickled my ear. “This one was designed to be pleasing to the eye, I imagine, while serving the purpose of a fortress all the same. My home is nothing but a fortress to keep people out but, most of the time, in . It isn’t pretty.”

I pretended to not hear the part about keeping people in.

“Do you miss it?”

“No. Though, I realised today I was far more attached to that library than I remembered. There are manuscripts there, signed ones, and countless others invaluable books. Forbidden ones by the church, as well. When Renfield recovers, I’ll have him find out if my castle is still standing, and if it is I’ll have my books sent to me.”

“Maybe Captain Nemo would be jealous of your collection. I know I am,” I said. As we spun, Mallory, dancing with Sean, caught my eyes over the Count’s shoulder and grinned like an excited child as she gave me a thumbs up. I winked back at her. “I’ve seen pictures of Romania when I researched you. It’s beautiful. And the weather seems more agreeable than England’s. Why would you move here?”

“The Industrial Revolution,” he answered, shrugging as he continued our dance. His dance, to be fair. I was simply taking a ride. “England was far ahead than any other place in the world and Romania with all its superstition fell behind, always more of the same in centuries. And I wanted to see new things developing instead of just hearing about them. So I came, and missed most of them because of Agatha.” He sighed. “Unfortunate in some ways but for the best in others.” He dug his fingers on my waist to let me know what he meant.

Dracula danced with me in silence from then on. We danced until everyone was on the dance floor with us and the waltzes had been substituted by song ballads. I had my forehead resting in the crook of his neck as I breathed evenly, though my heart still seemed somewhat reluctant to beat at a normal pace.

“Y/N,” he called and I hummed in response. “Tell me what you were going to recite last night.”

I opened my mouth to recite it, and then snapped it shut. I started sliding my hand from his, freeing myself of his hold, but he clasped it and fully laced his arm around my back like he was a snake coiling around its prey.

“I can’t,” I mumbled. I remained still, head tucked on his neck as I stared at the dragon pendant.

“Why?”

“Because it’s true, and it’s one of my secrets. You don’t need to know it.”

“But I want to know it. Your every secret, your truth, I want everything. And yesterday you told me you’d tell me.”

“I lied.” I rose my head to look at him. His black eyes, unwavering in its intensity, lured me in like a raging sea. I could have drowned in them. “Couldn’t you tell?”

“No, I couldn’t.” He furrowed his brows for a second and then smiled. “I don’t know whether to be proud that you’ve learned how to lie to me or be annoyed about it. Deciphering you will be an even greater challenge from now on.”

“Good.”

Baudelaire’s words revolved in my head repeatedly. Like a song lyric, one without rhythm but all of its meaning.

‘What can an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has felt, if only for a second, the infinity of delight?’

I needed that second. As a reminder of what I was throwing away.

I glanced at Dracula’s lips and tilted my head closer. He blinked, comprehension passing his eyes as my mouth neared his. He stopped dancing and became very still, as if he was afraid to scare me away by a brusque movement. My nose bumped into his. My eyes were wide, half scared about what I was doing, half scared of missing the look on his eyes. I stood on my tiptoes, further ruining his shoes, and captured his lips with mine.

I stopped breathing and finally closed my eyes, too caught up in the feel of him to have them open. And then he freed my hand which he had been holding captive to trap me with both of his arms as he parted his mouth. In the past, his lips had been always cold when we kissed, and now, the feel of his warm tongue on mine, demanding and hungry, was what made me shudder. Unrestrained need to feel more of him, anything, just more and more, made me deepen the kiss and delve my fingers into his hair. He established a slow pace but I still struggled to gasp for air in between our short, nearly nonexistent pauses.

I heard a faint chattering that sounded suspiciously of admonishment but I didn’t care. I was doing something stupid but for the life of me, I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, whether it was for my sake or for the sake of someone else’s reprisals. And I wanted to give Count Dracula this, the one thing he shouldn’t have before he went away.

When he tried to pull away to give me room to breathe, I simply grabbed his face and crushed my lips to his again. He moaned low on his throat and an ache started between my legs, rising up towards my breasts and I suddenly felt like my dress was restraining me. His hands roved my back, seeking to touch more of me as I did with him, but it wasn’t enough and I soon found myself cursing the fact that there were people watching us.

I don’t think I would’ve stopped if it wasn’t for Count Dracula grabbing the nape of my neck and tearing me away from him.

“No–” I started to protest but caught hold of myself when he, very slowly, started dancing again. And when he did, I felt a distinct stiffness pressing against my stomach. My mouth fell open for a brief second and the look on his eyes was enough to make me hide my face on the curve of his neck. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. ” He chuckled in my ear, and I shuddered as the throbbing between my legs intensified.

“You should’ve stopped me earlier,” I muttered.

“And miss your face when you realised what you did?”

“I didn’t do anything,” I said, trying to conceal a snicker. “Not on purpose.”

He just laughed.

I shut my eyes, doing my best to memorise the sound.

When Count Dracula stopped dancing at the end of the song, and nothing else stood between us, I slowly disentangled myself from him. The front of my body felt oddly cold and bare now that I stood apart from him and I had to swipe a hand down my dress to make sure it was still there. I glanced at him and snorted upon noticing that his lips were swollen.

“You have lipstick all over,” I said, smiling like an idiot. He bent his head closer as I cleaned the corners of his mouth with my thumb. Grabbing my jaw gently, he did the same with me, his fingers brushing my numb lips and leaving a tingly sensation where he touched. “Better?” I asked, dropping my hand when I was done.

He nodded and started leaning his head forward. Feeling suddenly modest as if I hadn’t just rubbed myself against him as two hundred people watched, I turned my head to the side and his lips touched my cheek .

“Y/N, look at me.” I did and I almost wished I didn’t. Tenderness was a peculiar thing to find in the eyes of a murderer but I found it. “Was that a yes?”

“Yes.” I nodded lightly. “Sort of.”

I could say it because it wouldn’t last long.

The crease between Dracula’s eyebrows told me he was considering my answer but if he wanted to question me about what ‘sort of’ meant, he saved it for later.

I slid from his grasp until I clasped his hand.

“I need to visit the ladies’ room. I’ll only take a minute. Why don’t I introduce you to some people so you’ll have company until I come back?”

He acquiesced.

Ignoring every judgmental look I received, I weaved my way between tables until I caught sight of Mallory’s blond head sitting at the partner’s table. If anyone at that table had witnessed us at the dance floor, nobody let it show on their faces as Count Dracula shook hands with them. I doubted anyone would have said anything either, since he towered over the entire group with a slight curl of his lips that simply dared anyone to ask. It was like a wolf making nice with the deer right before it ate it.

“Mal,” I leaned close to her so only she could hear me. “Come with me to the ladies?”

“Sure.” She set down her glass of champagne on the table and picked up our purses.

My purse felt very heavy on my hands and I was already dreading opening it. I slanted a look at Count Dracula to see that he was already sitting down and in deep conversation with Talbot about life in England.

As if I needed another reminder, Raoul came by at that moment, his white suit clinging to every muscle on his arm and making me wonder what was his true occupation. With swollen muscles like that, I doubted he was a doctor like Zoe.

“Miss, would you like a drink? If you’re not satisfied with your wine, I can prepare a cocktail, if you wish.”

I almost said ‘Manhattan’ right there but my mouth wouldn’t form the words.

“Maybe later,” I told him, and he left.

Turning to Count Dracula, I bent so I could level my mouth with his ear, and as I did so his nostrils flared, the oddest look crossing his face.

“Try not to bite anyone in the meanwhile.” I whispered, forcing myself to sound normal instead of rueful. “I’ll be right back.”

When I drew back, his face was impassive and he merely nodded at me before flashing a beguiling smile at Talbot as they resumed their conversation.

.

.

.

Taglist: @festering-queen​ @rheabalaur​ @girlonfireice​ @feralstare​ @deborahlazaroff​ @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @apocalypsenowish​ @thorin-smokin-shield​ @dreamer2381​ @saint-hardy​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch. 1

So this story was originally published on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to post it on here as well since some of you may not have an account on there. I want you guys to be able to enjoy it as well. There will be a tag list for this so if you enjoy the story, then you can ask to be tagged for future chapters.

GIF not mine. Credit goes to owner.

Summary: Rose Bucket is Charlie Bucket’s older sister. She works as a waitress at Mrs. Mason’s Magical Pies to earn some money for her family. She loves her family, she loves her job and she loves her boss. But what she doesn’t love is unwanted attention from her stuck-up “suitor”

A/N: Rose’s face claim is Lily James as Cinderella (for those who didn’t know that) so that’s why she’s up there.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​

It was a normal day for Rosalie Bucket. She worked at Mrs. Mason's Magical Pies as a waitress. Rose loved working for Mrs. Mason. She was such a kind woman, whom often treated Rose like her own daughter, and even treated Charlie like her own son whenever he came in to wait for his sister. And she was always willing to let a pie go home to the Bucket family.

Rose always felt guilty for the fact that she never paid for one, but Mrs. Mason assured her that it was fine.

The Buckets weren't the wealthiest family in the world; they barely even got by. But, they had each other, and that was the most important thing.

A bell above the door rang, indicating that a customer walked through the door. Rose, who was in the middle of sleeping the floor, looked up to see that her brother had entered the small cafe.

"Afternoon, Charlie!" Rose greeted him. Charlie always stopped by after school to wait for Rose to finish her shift. They always walked home together.

Charlie smiled at his beloved sister. "Afternoon, Rosie" He took a seat at a table close to the big window.

Mrs. Mason emerged from the kitchen. "Is that my dear boy?" She said, her face covered in flour. Mrs. Mason grinned when she saw Charlie. She walked over to him and ruffled his hair. "Hello, dear Charlie! How are you today?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Mason" Charlie smiled at the woman. "How are you?"

"Couldn't be better, Charlie! How about a piece of pie?" Mrs. Mason always offered Charlie a piece. "I've got a nice piece of blueberry with your name on it!"

"Thank you" He said politely.

Rose smiled at her brother. "Make sure not to spoil dinner"

"I won't. I promise" Charlie said to her. Mrs. Mason brought the pie over to the table and set it in front of him. She even gave him a cup of hot chocolate.

"It's a bit cold out today. Thought you might like some" Mrs. Mason winked. Charlie thanked her yet again, and began eating the pie. He took slow bites out of it, savouring the warmth from the pastry.

Rose has finished sweeping, and was ready to move onto cleaning the dishes. It would be her last task for the day. She started scrubbing away at the dishes when Mrs. Mason approached her. "Rose dear, that boy is back and he's asking for you"

Rose wiped her hands on her apron and peered into the dining room. She saw a blonde haired man, around her age, sitting at the table with Charlie. That man was Harry Roberts. "Oh, Mrs. Mason, please get rid of him!"

"My dear, just tell the boy the truth" Mrs. Mason told the girl. "You don't love the boy, you barely even think of him as a friend. Why marry someone you're barely even friends with?"

Harry was quite smitten with Rose from the first day he walked into the cafe and laid eyes on her. However, the same couldn't be said for Rose. It wasn't that Harry was a terrible person, (although sometimes it felt like he was following her on occasion) it's just that Rose didn't feel the same way as he did. She merely saw Harry as an acquaintance, and besides, she was too busy with working and trying to provide for her family. She was lucky if she was able to buy a bread roll to eat with their cabbage soup.

And that's what brings us to Harry's many attempted marriage proposals. He knew very well of the Bucket's situation. Harry was always proposing the idea of marriage to Rose, on the basis that it would save her family. He also added the promise that her family could live with them.

But, Rose always refused. She didn't love the boy. Even though it would be good for her family, she didn't want to be stuck in a one-sided marriage. She didn't want to live with that guilt.

Mr and Mrs Bucket were aware of Harry's proposals. Rose would always tell them, "Maybe I should marry him. We could have a better house and we wouldn't have to live off of cabbage soup"

But her parents always assured her, "Darling, we don't want you getting married until it's with someone you truly do love"

Rose took a big sigh and stepped out of the kitchen. With a forced smile, she approached the table occupied by her brother and her suitor. "Harry"

Harry smiles up at the young woman. "Rose" He spoke her name softly. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. "I still can't get over how beautiful you look, even in your uniform"

Rose glanced down at what she was wearing: a blue dress, a white apron and her Mary Jane shoes.

By now, Charlie had finished his piece of pie. He watched the two people in front of him, but kept his eye mostly on his sister. He knew the smile on her face wasn't a genuine one.

"How can I help you, Harry?" Rose asked, just wanting this conversation over with.

"You know why I'm here, Rose" Harry's tone seemed to grow darker. The girl scoffed and turned around to go back into the kitchen. But Harry had grabbed her wrist with a tight grip.

"Harry, you're hurting me!" Rose yelped. He gripped her wrist with such force that she was sure a bruise or some kind of mark would be left. "Let me go!" Harry didn't.

That is until Charlie spoke up. "She asked you to let go" His voice was soft, but it made Harry let go. Truth be told, he just didn't want to seem like a monster in front of the boy.

Charlie looked up at his sister. He saw a tear run down her face. He reached up to wipe it away from her. Rose gave him a soft smile.

At this point, Mrs. Mason came out of the kitchen, waving a rolling pin around. "The girl told you to leave, so I think it's best that you go!"

"Y-yes, ma'am" Harry sputtered. He wasn't going to lie, Mrs. Mason scared him a little.

"And if I see you lay one more hand on this girl, I'll use this rolling pin to flatten you like dough. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded once more before running out of the shop. Once he was gone, Rose broke out into tears. "Oh, sweetheart" Mrs. Mason cooed. She rubbed Rose's back. "I'll make sure he never comes back in here to bother you again" She looked at the young Bucket boy. "Would you grab your sister's coat from the kitchen? I'm sending her home early"

Charlie went into the kitchen. Mrs. Mason still attempted to comfort Rose. "And I'll send you home with another pie for your family"

"Oh, please, Mrs. Mason! I can't let you do that!" Rose pleaded with her. "I know business hasn't been what it used to be these days and I—"

"It's alright, dear" Mrs. Mason assured her. She made her way into the kitchen just as Charlie came out with Rose's coat.

"Are you going to be alright, Rosie?" Charlie asked as he helped his sister put on her jacket.

"I will be, Charlie. Thank you" Rose smiled at him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Mrs. Mason is letting us bring a pie home for dessert tonight"

As if on cue, Mrs. Mason came out with the pie. This one was cherry. "One cherry pie for the Bucket family" She gave the pie to Charlie. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out some money. "And buy yourself a loaf of bread. Something to go with that cabbage soup"

"Mrs. Mason, I couldn't—"

"It's alright, my dear"

Charlie gave an appreciative smile to the woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Mason"

"It's my pleasure, Charlie! Please say hello to your parents and grandparents for me, yes?"

"We will Mrs. Mason" Rose said. "Thank you" She grabbed Charlie's hand and the two of them left the cafe.

Mrs. Mason watched them walk away with a sad smile on her face. Her shop wasn't going to last much longer, and she knew Rose needed the money. Mrs. Mason didn't know what she was going to tell the poor girl.

And that Harry boy was getting more aggressive with each passing day. It wasn't going be long before he forces Rose into a marriage by physical measures. But the fact that he loomed Rose's poverty over her head, and tried to use that against her was bad enough.

But little did anyone know, that the Bucket's luck was about to change.

[babylooneytoonz]

(A/N- Not my gif. Found this lovely one on Google and have no idea who it belongs to. Let me know if it's yours and I'll credit you.💕)

Warning(s) - ANGST, WAR & mentions of violence, character death.

Quick links- For those who haven't read the Prologue & Part 1, you will find all of them here.

Trip Mines & Broken Hearts [Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Part 2

It wasn't until weeks after that day you saw that blue eyed boy again.

It would have been a lie to say he didn't cross your mind once since then—

When you weren't treating casualties or you were curled in your bunker, your reading glasses plastered to your eyes and an old , tattered book that belonged to your elder brother rested against your thigh, you found yourself thinking of him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he was alive —

A part of you felt guilty— you should have thought of your brothers, prayed for their safety, prayed for the war to get over so you could all go back home, but you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if Thomas Shelby had made it so far, since the last time you saw him.

A few miles away, in a basement of an almost crumbling building, the soldiers of the 8th Service Battalion were trapped. The only exit was blocked by piles of rocks that had come crashing down when a trip mine had exploded, taking the life of a fellow comrade. Tommy stood by the stone wall, leaning against it, holding his body for support, a lit fag in his fingers, his lips belting out smoke as he exhaled. Right in front of his eyes, three of his comrades, which included his brother John, were digging with their bare hands, trying to burrow a hole into the ground so they could get into the other side and get out of this godforsaken place.

Tommy's fingernails were soaked with blood and dust, his nails almost broken for he had been the one trying to dig with his bare hands an hour back and had only taken a break to take a little rest. His observant eyes scanned through the men that were tumbling in and out of his vision, yelling amongst themselves, talking or trying to come up with a plan but his eyes were fixed on one person— Jasper.

He looked just like you, his raven black hair was just the same shade as yours, only shorter. If you decided to one day chop off your locks, you'd pass as his twin. Tommy dumped the cigarette butt to the ground and at the same time, his hand flew to his neck, clasping his fingers against the locket that you had given him. It felt warm against his palm and he knew he should have given it back to the black haired boy in front of his eyes.

Maybe this was meant to be his lucky charm, a token of love from his sister, something that was meant to protect his life. Although he wanted to go and talk to the black haired boy, a part of him did not want to part with the memory he had of you— a part of you that was now clinging to his neck.

Maybe it was his selfishness, or it was just his thoughts of you, the fact that you occupied a corner of his mind more than anyone these days, he bit on his lip hard and kept his mouth shut. He will talk to Jasper, but later — once they were out of this place.

And they did.

Only how—

It was almost twelve hours; the men were hungry, starving beyond their wits and the basement smelt of piss, sweat and blood. Finally, a yell rang through the lads' ears. A hole had finally been dug. They were free— they could go to the other side now. One by one, the men started crawling through the hole and their heads emerged on the other side of the basement, where bright moonlight shone though the glass windows, providing them with respite. There the door was, right in front of their eyes; all they had to do was get out and breathe the fresh air. Anything was better than the stale, bloody air in this place.

Tommy was speaking to his brother when from the corner of his eye, he saw three boys, one of them (Y/N)'s brother. They walked up to the front door, placing their hand on the doorknob, they pulled it open when suddenly, there was a click.

"DUCK!" Tommy screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as he could, jumping to the ground, shielding himself underneath a table when a loud explosion happened and the screams of the three men in front of him drowned into his ears. His palm flew to the locket that dangled from his neck and a sudden guilt hit him.

"Jasper, no! Fuck, fuck. No." Tommy slid out of his hiding spot, cowering slightly just in case there was any more explosion to happen, making his way through the furniture that was lit on fire around him. There, in front of his eyes, lay the young man, covered in blood and soot, coughing.

Tommy fell on his knees, sliding his hand underneath Jasper's head to lift it up as he could see that he was still breathing, although very faintly.

"Jasper, hold on. We're going to get you to a bloody hospital, you know?"

Breath by breath, Tommy could see life sliding out of the young boy's body and it hurt him.

"Listen, mate, I met your sister, she's at the camp, she's a nurse, a fuckin' good nurse and she will —"

"She has no - no one except m-me and Johnny—" Jasper's breathless voice cut him off, whispering, his voice cracking, his chest heaving up and down.

"Come on, don't you fucking die on me here. I promised her I'll take you to the camp the next time I need fuckin' stitches."

Tommy placed his hands on the young boy's chest, pumping his heart, trying to get him to open his eyes.

"Tommy—" John's voice called out to him but he ignored him.

"Tommy" This time John's voice was loud, causing Tommy to sharply turn his neck towards him. Underneath the layers of blood and soot covering his face, he could see the sadness in John's eyes. "He's gone, Tommy. He's dead." John whispered, his voice barely a whisper.

The darkness surrounded you, but it wasn't peaceful; you could hear the sounds of occasional grenades and trip Mines somewhere at a distance and you could sometimes hear a cry of pain. You had to force yourself to clench your eyes shut and press the pillow tight against your ears to block out any sound. You wondered if life could get any worse than what it already was—

Letting out a frustrated groan, you sat up in bed, rubbing your tired, sleep deprived eyes as you snaked out of bed, your feet touching the floor. Without making any noise, you sneaked out of the bunker, not wanting to wake up anyone inside as you walked out. You looked up at the sky, the moon was shining bright — it was a beautiful full moon; a lovely starry night, but it was ironical how no one could see beauty in it. All we could see was blood, death and cries of pain.

Your arms wrapped around your body instinctively as a chilly breeze hit you, causing a shiver run down your spine. It was then when you heard the sound of the crunching of leaves somewhere across you, causing you to sharply look forward, until the familiar silhouette of the blue eyed boy came in your view.

"Tommy!" You exclaimed, your voice expressing a sudden joy you didn't know you could even feel.

You didn't know why; what connection you had with him but it felt like someone you'd known for ages had finally come back back to you. You ran in his direction, wanting to embrace him.

"You're back! You—" Words stopped from your mouth when you saw him up close. He wasn't happy. His face looked worse than how you'd seen him the last time— yes, physically too but more so, emotionally. You could see a scar in his eyes; you knew something had happened. His eyes were sunken, hollow, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Tommy—" You whispered his name, your words dripping with pain; it was strange to say that you felt it, genuinely, whatever it was that was bothering him. There was a connection and you could feel a pain building inside you as well, looking at him— so distraught.

"Say it," you pleaded with him.You knew he knew that you were in no mood to play games; that you knew that something had happened and you weren't the type of a girl to beat around the bush.

Your eyes moved along with Tommy's hand as he slid it into his pant pocket and pulled something out. Within the next second, you felt his fingers brush against your hand, his hand finally taking a hold of your hand and turning it so your palm was wide open. He then placed something cold against it and you looked down, the silver glistening against your now tear clouded eyes.

Your locket—

You bit your lip.

He was dead, of course he was.

You didn't cry or break down. You looked up at the sky and your lips curled into a weak smile. He was finally free; free of the torture, of watching countless people die and he had died a martyr. You were proud, needless to say. But your heart felt heavy. It didn't matter if he'd died a martyr's death, what mattered was that he was gone— your baby brother was gone and he was never coming back.The next minute you knew, you were on your knees, your face buried against Tommy's chest, his arm holding you gently as he let you whimper against his chest, his hand stroking the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. It should've been me maybe. I didn't give him the locket, I thought—"

You kept listening, all the while you had your face buried in his chest, a stabbing pain rising in your chest.

"I wanted to keep it for myself. I should've given it to him."

It didn't matter anymore. He was dead.

You don't remember how long you cried for—

It was probably minutes—

But once you were done, you wiped any traces of tears left in your eyes and put on a brave face. You were still sitting on the ground but Tommy was now standing, wondering, if there was anything he could say to you; to comfort you.

You didn't need it—

No amount of words can comfort you, and he knew it.

So he slid his hands into his pocket and turned away, slowly walking away from you.

"Tommy, wait." You weakly called out, and he froze, not turning towards you. You stood up and with slow, dragged steps, you walked up to him and placed your hand on his shoulder, nudging him to turn towards you and face you. He had to fucking face you, you deserved that much. "Look at me, for fucks sake." You hissed, your voice harsh, his body immediately stiffening in response to it. But he did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he turned around and your eyes met his icy blue ones.

He had expected you to slap him, scream at him and curse him but he had least expected you to do what you did then. You swallowed the bile forming in your throat and brought up the locket to his neck, clasping it around, letting it hang from it.

"Although it didn't protect him, I always hope it protects you."

You took a step away from him but this time, he caught your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

"Y-you don't hate me?" His voice was filled with anguish.

"It wasn't your fault. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. Instead of praying for them to be safe, I hoped and wondered if you were okay—" You softly whispered, looking down at the floor.

Tommy left the wrist he was holding reluctantly and this time, you gave him a weak smile and turned away. Watching you leave tore through his heart but your words providing his aching heart with a medicine, your words which he'd heard, the fact that you had thought of him, the fact that you'd wanted him to be safe. The fact that you cared for him. You wanted to be alone; to grieve. So he let you be. But he kept standing there, watching you with awe in his eyes. He wondered what he'd done good in life, to meet a woman as pure as you were. And now, a sudden selfish desire filled him up completely.

He wanted you. He needed you now. And he had to have you.

A/N: thank you for all the love I've received so far. And thank you to the creators of the lovely GIFs. 💕