#i made him look like my italian cousins

[skelerangart]

Gus, singlehandedly holding this town on his back

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 5

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

I changed slightly what I already had written after reading someone’s comment on the previous part 🤭 I always love reading what you think, sometimes it even sparks an idea or two… 🥰

Word count: 3,213

Y/N walked excitedly through the Shelby Company headquarters. She was granted with the permission to open the Shelby Institute, it was incredible how much Tommy’s contacts helped her speed up the process. Now she’d need to interview and recruit teachers, cleaning personnel, a couple of secretaries and enroll the children for the upcoming school year.

But as she got closer, Tommy’s shouting became clearer.

“Don’t fucking try to trick me, Lizzie.” He warned.

Then Y/N flinched when Lizzie raised her voice. “What’s your fucking problem then? If I sleep with Angel, his father or his cousin it’s none of your business!”

“Of course it’s my business!” He exploded. Anger raising at the thought the Changrettas getting sensitive information from his secretary, Lizzie had a big mouth when she wanted to. In more ways than one. “How much is Changretta paying you?”

“So you can choose who I sleep with,” Lizzie spat, “but you are covering Y/N’s pregnancy and treating her as if she was a Shelby!”

She was now able to understand all the secrecy around Tommy’s confident, why suddenly everyone wanted to make sure she was alright, why she was around more frequently. The thought of Y/N fulfilling all the dreams that belonged to her, made Lizzie go mad.

What was happening with the Changretta family? Y/N wondered as she overheard the heated exchange coming from Tommy’s office. The last thing she knew about them was when Danny Whizzbang was falsely killed in front of the Italians. But that was a few years back.

“I know her parents kicked her out.” Y/N heard Lizzie again. “What? You thought I wouldn’t find out? So now you’re pretending to be the perfect little family?”

That’s why Scott disappeared overnight. Lizzie wondered for how long they’ve been fooling everyone.

“Since when do I have to give you explanations, ey? You’re not answering me! What have you told Angel about us?” His hands shook her shoulders abruptly.

“Oh please! Don’t give yourself that much importance, the last thing we do is talk about you. And you don’t have the right to question my decisions, when you’re supporting Y/N and her bastard.”

That last statement was enough for Y/N to feel her blood boiling.

“Repeat that in my face. I dare you.” She opened the door with such force that it slammed against the wall behind. Lizzie paled.

Tommy recognized that look, he barely had time to react and intercepted Y/N midway.

“Y/N calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Y/N shouted, if it wasn’t for Tommy she would’ve already slapped Lizzie. “I’m tired of this, everybody thinks they can call my child bastard just because I’m not married.” She had to bite her tongue to stop her from telling a truth or two to Lizzie. She rarely got angry but once she did, there was no going back.

“Lizzie get out, I don’t want to see you.” Tommy barked as he tried to help Y/N to sit down. Then he realized they had an audience outside his office. “What are y’all doing there?! Go back to work!”

Once he had her settled on the couch, he offered Y/N a glass of water.

“Don’t let her words sink in. It’s bullshit.” He tried, but Y/N was still altered.

“She from all of the people, dares to point her finger at me.” Y/N said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “And just because I thought Scott was-” she trailed off.

“You’re much better without him, you know that right?” Tommy crouched down, to be at her level.

“Will this ever stop?” Y/N’s voice cracked by the end, emotions at its highest.

“I’ll shoot anyone who dares to say anything like that again.”

His hands tried to calm her trembling fingers. His words managed to earn a small smirk from her, Tommy’s words managed to make her feel better momentarily. But she couldn’t help but wonder for how long she’d be able to deal with comments like that. She’s need to create a shell around her, a thick skin as Ada had told her. Give zero fucks about others people’s opinions.

“It’s like I’ll have it tattooed in my forehead for the rest of my life.”

“What the hell happened?” John demanded to know.

“Get some men to follow Lizzie, she’s been seeing Angel Changretta and we don’t know what kind of information she’s been giving them.”

“Ah the brat!” John made an annoyance face and stormed off.

To try to calm the anger raising, Tommy poured himself a glass of whiskey, not wanting to snap at Y/N for the previous altercation with Lizzie.

The Italians had always give him and his people a bad blood, they thought they were better than anyone else. And in the long run, a relationship between his secretary and one of the Changrettas would bring him more problems than good. Lizzie knew way too much about the business, he couldn’t just fire her.

He needed to find a loose end, something to stop them, to show his power over the Italians. He needed a plan…

Love and sex are a dangerous thing, people get blinded by it and he could’ve a snitch under his nose, he needed to be more cautions with the people he hired and make it clear the unwritten rules and conditions to work for him.

“I should’ve told you sooner.” Y/N mumbled, feeling guilty.

“You knew?” The frown on his brow intensified.

“Not exactly, but one day she started making weird comments about a date and her love life and oh this incredible man…” Y/N shook her face. “I thought she was just bluffing.”

“Yeah you should’ve. But it doesn’t matter now…” he trailed off going for a glass of whiskey, it was still early but he felt like a lion in a cage.

Y/N noticed the way his mind was working, already anticipating to endless possible scenarios and outcomes. Then he paused to rest his arms against a chair and let his head hang loose. The straps of the holster tightened around his shoulders and back, his muscles flexed under the shirt.

“Are you jealous?”

Tommy’s head snapped at Y/N’s words. Taking him by surprise.

“As if you didn’t knew me, you from all of them.” Tommy scoffed, but his eyes softened. “Really? You think I’d be jealous for Lizzie?”

Y/N blushed embarrassed for asking something so intimate. It wasn’t her business.

“Forget I said anything.” She looked in the opposite direction.

“Look at me.” Tommy pleaded with a deep voice. “Lizzie… is not the type of woman that would make a man jealous.” How could he say it nicely? Lizzie was a whore, he didn’t judge her though… But he tried to be cautious with his words.

It took Y/N a moment to register what Tommy meant. But she got the hint wrong. “I get it… just like me, right?”

Mortified, Tommy placed his hands on her shoulders. “No, no that’s not what I was trying to say.” The last thing he wanted to was to hurt her.

“Sure.”

“Y/N…” Tommy whispered, using his forefinger to tilt her head up. “You’re different.”

“The only difference is that she gets paid.” Y/N shuddered, accepting her new reality.

“That’s not true and you know it.” He was too close for her to smell his aftershave and cologne.

His thumb caressing softly her chin.

Shaking her head, she took a step back, but the bold movement made her feel dizzy, her head started spinning.

“What is it?” He asked with worry. “Are you alright?”

Y/N let him guide her to the closest chair. “Yes, it’s just this dizziness, it will go away in a minute.”

But despite Y/N’s efforts to calm him down, Tommy got worrier by the minute.

“Do you need anything?” He eyed Y/N, trying to read her expressions.

“No, thanks.”

“Y/N tell me what I can do for you.” Tommy kneeled before her.

The way he showed her that he genuinely cared about her, melted her heart. Having Tommy’s support meant to her more than words could express.

“I swear I’m fine.”

“Are you feeling poorly?” Polly stepped into Tommy’s office.

“She got dizzy.” He answered for Y/N, looking at his aunt.

“I’ll make you some tea.” She announced before giving Y/N a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Keep her with her head up until it pases, then bring her to the house, I need to speak to you.”

Polly’s look didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

He knew those eyes and something was happening, and judging by the look in them it had to be serious.

“I just came to tell you that you can set now the date to open the Institution as soon as we get the personnel.” Y/N announced with her eyes still closed.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard today.” The smile he gave her, was inevitable. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I don’t think you want to go through the interviews and stuff.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him.

“No.” Tommy answered bluntly.

“That’s what I thought.” She gave him a smile that made him notice something else in her features, something that she didn’t have before, or at least he haven’t noticed… until now.

“Okay so you can sign those papers for me so I can go and sort this out?”

Tommy took the folder and placed his signature on the papers without even reading it. “You’re not taking off my money right?” He joked, the light mood in his voice mirrored in his eyes.

“Absolutely how do you think I’ll feed this baby?” She kept the joke going, feeling a bit better.

“Let me know how this goes.” He saw Y/N take her belongings and the papers. “Y/N how about a party to raise funds for the project? The school needs funding.”

Y/N ran her hand on the door thinking about it.

“A… fancy party?”

Tommy nodded. “With waiters and champagne and shit.” He had access now to the elite members club, people with enough money in their accounts to end poverty but selfish enough to not give away a single coin.

“Could you organize it?” He asked hiding his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, I can do that.” Excitement made her skin tingle, she had never been to a party like that, only once when Lady Winchester requested her to be by her side, but her place was to be back in the shadows, not as a guest.

“You’ll need a dress then. And some fancy shoes too.”

A dress! He had said a dress! She couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it, she, a no body getting all dressed up to attend a rich people gathering while several weeks pregnant.

“You must not spare on anything, alright? I’ll give you a blank check so you can arrange all of it.” He explained proudly. His dreams finally materializing.

Y/N took in his success, all of the things he ever wanted, he never stopped, never complained. No, instead he focused on finding a way to do all that would take him to where he wanted to be.

His hard work and intelligence was admirable. He never relied on excuses. And despite what everyone might think of his imposing presence, he had a heart of gold and a genuine interest to help.

“Tommy?” Her soft voice pulled him out of his daydream. His blue eyes fixed on hers. “I’m so proud of you.”

She didn’t know how much her words meant to him. How he’d treasure and savor their taste… Y/N was the only person that saw him crying over his mother’s grave, she had been the one who helped him to be a part of the man he used to be when he got back from France, she heard him talk for hours of the horrors he had seen. And now she was helping him materialize his dreams, but in a very subtle way because she wasn’t impressed or interested in the luxury he could afford, she didn’t assume he’d give her everything, no, she wanted to work hard by herself to earn it. She wasn’t accepting anything more than what she thought was fair.

In a world where he could easily get confused and loose sight of what really matters, she was keeping him grounded.

“Do you want to have dinner in your office?” Y/N asked Tommy as she found him in the hall.

After looking at his clock, he guarded it safely again in his pocket, trying to keep his nerves at bay, he had a secret meeting with Churchill in a desert road, he wanted to share some more instructions about the upcoming deal with the Russians and not having total control over when and how things would happen was driving Tommy mad. This was a very delicate matter and the slightest mistake could get them all murdered in a heartbeat.

“No, actually I’ve to go.”

Touching her arm and giving her a gentle squeeze, Tommy asked her to be safe before walking outside. His vehicle roared as he exited the property and Y/N found herself eating alone in the huge dining table.

For her own safety it was better if Y/N didn’t get involved in this. Russians simply didn’t care about anyone, they were fucking mad. He had been actually considering asking Y/N to go somewhere else safe, but knowing her the way he did, she’d take it badly, as if he was trying to get rid of her.

Y/N glanced at the window, it was dark. But she knew it wasn’t her place to ask anything else. Where could he go at this time of the night? With who?

As much as her bond was so close to Tommy, she needed to realize they weren’t stitched or glued to each other and Tommy generally was extremely reserved about his private affairs.

Being alone made Y/N feel miserable and sad, her whole days were filled with lots of people at the Shelby Company Ltd, or the tea time with her grandma at the Garrison or the moments she shared with Tommy once they arrived at Arrow House. So now being by herself it felt so different…so lonely.

“Mary could you please prepare a tea for me?” Y/N asked politely after finishing her dinner.

“I only serve Mr. Shelby ma’am.” The maid added before walking away.

In a few words, she made very clear that Y/N’s presence wasn’t as welcomed as she thought. And her loyalty was reserved for her master, not his unwelcome guest. So without another word, Y/N picked up her dirty dishes and brought it downstairs.

“Miss Y/LN what are you doing?” Asked one of the maids as the chef wiped his hands with his apron.

“I’m going to wash these.” Y/N stated firmly, voice close to break after the humiliating moment she went through with Mary.

If things were as they should be, Y/N would be working under Mary’s supervision.

“Absolutely not, let me handle this.” Gently, the maid retrieved the items and gave the pregnant woman a look. “Can I help you with anything else? Some desert?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, thanks. Where’s the kettle?” She asked instead. This place was huge and there was a walk-in pantry and everything was organized meticulously.

“This is because of Mary right?” Y/N fixed her eyes on the young girl. “What did she do?” But then she placed her hand on her lips, as if trying to say she messed up. “Apologies I shouldn’t have.”

“No, it’s fine… it’s not like I’m Mrs. Shelby.” She sighed and twisted nervously the bow at the front of her blouse. “She reminded me of my place in this house, that’s all.”

The young maid exploded. “She thinks she’s better than the rest of us, just because she’s in charge of everything.”

Y/N studied her features, noticing her reaction was genuine.

“She’s always criticizing the way I do my job, it’s never good enough. And Mr. Shelby doesn’t even care…”

“I know this isn’t my business.” The chef caught her attention. “But she had been complaining about you to every member of the staff, she doesn’t understands why she has to attend you and do things for you when you’re not married to Mr. Shelby.” Duncan explained as he cleaned the stove.

“Oh I’ve heard her plenty of times too, you should talk to Mr. Shelby.” The kind maid suggested.

But Y/N shook her head and thanked the woman for preparing a tea for her. “No, I’m not here to cause Tommy more trouble. And he needs Mary to take care of everything.”

All of this was because Mary had very inflexible thoughts about premarital sex, she was always murmuring “this offends the Lord… or Lord forgive them for that.” So with Y/N being pregnant and living with a man without being married, this was a sin. Y/N was a sinner and in her eyes, she didn’t deserve even a bloody cup of tea.

“Thanks for the tea and the company. I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t mind if you got to have some rest early, all the chores pending can be done in the morning.” Y/N gave them both a smile and rushed upstairs to her bedroom.

The place was huge and she made sure to lock her door, a constant fear of some intruder breaking into the mansion made her feel uneasy. Tommy had a bunch of enemies after all, they wouldn’t care about harming her or her baby just to get to Tommy.

It was too late now to regret anything, it wouldn’t change the course of things. But sitting on the ottoman by the window, she let her mind wander to think of her baby, to imagine if would it be a girl or a boy?

She wondered how would it feel the kicks and her baby would like to hear her singing a lullaby to sleep. Polly already warned her that she’d buy a stroller and a crib for when the baby is born and her grandmother was already knitting some shoes and a blanket. Esme promised to give her a box full of clothes of all sizes so she could choose what to keep, each gesture kept touching her heart, to realize how generous they all were to her, never making her feel bad or unwelcome. She would make sure to let her baby know of all the love that surrounded them even before the birth.

Y/N knew that sometimes blood means nothing sadly, but life always brings a good group of people to replace the others.

But thankfully her baby would’ve lots of arms to cuddle on and a loving chosen family to rely on.

Part 6

Master list

Thank you so much for reading ! ✨🥰 I hope you like this part, as usual, your words is what keeps this going xx

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[alonetimelover]

...marry me?

pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader

summary: Harry's drunk and YN is the angel that he dreamt of.

word count: 1,2k

masterlist

“Are you gonna be able to take him back home?” Gemma asked YN, concerned with Harry’s current… state. 

“I think I’ll be good.” She smiled at her soon to be sister-in-law. “If not, I’ll call my cousin. He said he wanted to observe the stars tonight, so he won’t be asleep.”

“Okay. Take care and be careful. Bye, bye!” Gemma bidded YN goodbye with two kisses on both of her cheeks and, together with her long-term boyfriend, moved towards the Taxi. 

It was well past 2 a.m. and the party was coming to an end. The younger part of the people staying with Harry and YN at their house, decided to go out and enjoy themselves in the city. Starting with late dinner at the coaster restaurant they moved to the heart of the city - to seek pubs with live music. Arriving at one, Harry caused quite the appeal - 'English Harry is back!’ - was shouted from behind the bar. A lovely older man - Sergio, the owner of the pub - greeted them warmly and announced that all drinks were on the house.

Tonight the band was playing blues and Harry was in love. With five drinks in his system (plus two glasses of wine he drank during dinner) Harry was drunk. And drunk Harry meant even more social, friendly and extroverted Harry. 

With a glass in his hand, and a kiss lingering on his lips from his fiancee he moved to the band, promising to ‘just congratulate them’. Soon enough Harry forgot his drink on the nearby table and sat behind the piano, starting to improvise with the band. They found rhythm immediately and played for fifteen minutes non stop. 

“I’ll order one more,” Harry screamed on his way from the piano to the bar, motioning to the now empty glass. 

After that he got lost around people that seemed to be congratulating him on the performance. It all was a sight to see. A sight that YN wanted to look at for the rest of her life - content Harry.

When Gemma left the pub, YN made her way towards the bar, where Harry was sitting alone by the almost empty glass. Approaching him, she slowly placed her hand on his shoulder, causing his head to shoot up and confusingly look around. When finally found, Harry's eyes lit up. He straightened his back and dusted his linen shorts, cleaning his throat. 

“Ciao,” he greeted her in italian, flirtatious smirk on his face. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated, cheeks red and forehead with droplets of sweat. A sight of drunk Harry Styles. A state of ‘if he drank one more drink, he would be on the floor’. 

“Ciao, caro.”

“Caro? Are you an angel? Wait! Don’t answer. You are. Renaissance angel, not biblical. Those were - pfff - freaky,” the last word he whispered, scrunching his eyebrows in disgust. “But you - oh lord - you are the most exquisite angel I’ve ever met.” 

YN wanted to laugh, but bottled it up, putting her lips in a thin line - the corners daring to move up. Drunk Harry was the one to later tell tales to your relatives and friends - always unpredictable. She loved to engage with the world he seemed to be in those times.

“Come closer,” he once again whispered, motioning with a finger for her to bring nearer. “I actually met an angel once.”

“Did you?” She whispered just like him.

“I did! She - she looked just like you.” Harry came to the conclusion after looking at YN for a few seconds. “Maybe I’ve dreamt it? Did you come to my dreams?”

Harry then fell back into his chair, leaning back on it. The rest of his drink was now like waves hitting against the glasses’ edges. The look on his face told YN one thing - he was deep in his thoughts. 

“You must have. There is no other way. I wouldn’t know your face, if you didn’t. Couldn’t forget your face. No, no I couldn’t. Too glorious to forget, too out of this world.” He was looking straight ahead, at the line of bottles behind the bar, but his eyes searched for the memories of that angel. 

“Will you let the angel take you home?” 

Harry shook his head, “no, no. I need to do something first. I need - I need to run!” 

Before YN could say anything, Harry left the wad of money and ran out of the bar. She, as quickly as she could after all those drinks, ran after him. 

“Harry! Harry!”

When she ran out to the street, she looked around, trying to figure out which turn she should take. On the right was him, jumping up and down with his hand held high, trying to pluck the flowers of the flowerpot outside somebody’s window. When he had five in his hand, some with roots and some with broken leaves, he jumped for the sixth. He didn’t, though, see that those broken leaves fell to the ground, making it much more slippery. The thing he felt was that his bottom hit the ground hard. 

“Fuck!” He cursed, starting to move around, trying to get up. 

“Harry, what in the world are you doing?”

Harry’s eyes shot up, “angel. Angel you - you were just in the pub!”

“I ran after you.”

“You, you ran after me?”

Harry accepted the hand YN was offering and leaning on it he sat on his heels. YN in the same position right in front of him. 

“Of course I did, my love.” She caressed his cheeks with a smile. “I’ll always run after you.”

With hope in his eyes, sniffing, he placed a hand with the flowers in front of him. The colourful petals, a little bit beaten by the fall, were leaning to the sides. 

“Angel,” he started slowly. “Marry me?”

YN’s eyes watered. She held up her right hand, showing the ring she received almost a year ago. 

“No, no, no. You - you cannot,” Harry started rambling, shaking his head. “It’s - it can’t be. No, no, no.”

“Harry, Harry. It’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s not. Marry me? Please. Please, I’ll look after you. I’ll cherish you. I’ll love you.”

“Harry,” she tried one more time. “I dreamt of you too.”

He calmed instantly and gazed into her eyes. 

“I dreamt of you and you, you asked me then. You gave me this ring. Look -” she took it off and placed it in his palm - “it has your initials inside, see?”

Harry inspected the ring carefully for a moment, squeezing his eyes trying to see better in a night’s lights. He caressed the engraved letters, a tiny smile showing on his gorgeous face. 

“You said yes?”

“I did.”

“Angel will marry me?”

“Yes. Angel will be the happiest creature on earth to marry you.”

Harry not losing any more seconds closed the gap between their lips and connected them in a sweet but deep kiss. Simultaneously, he placed the ring back on YN’s finger, moving then his hands to the sides of her head. He ended the kiss with a loud - muah - and stared at her. 

“You know that the angels don’t come to earth?”

“But I’ll be the happiest one regardless of that.”

[obexes]

CATALYSIS

PT. II

R.C x READER • R.G x READER

Warnings: Smut, Self-Sabatoging Reader, Manipulation, Small Amount Of Dub-Con (Fucking Rafe), Underaged Drinking, fingering

A/N: The next part will be longer, and this might end up being 10 parts bc the plot, oh I'm gonna let it cook. I tried to get this out ASAP, while juggling too much other shit. My mental health is sickly, so enjoy my degenerate fantasies. Feedback is so appreciated and encouraging y'all :)

Word Count: 7.5 K

Sundays were always your favourite thing about your parents being home. The smell of Italian sausage and carbonara had summoned you from your room to the living room, where your family sits spread out around the large room, with their dinner plates.

When you and Nicky were kids, your Mom would lose it if she caught you guys on the eggshell coloured living room carpet with anything darker than water. Ever since Henley and Patton were old enough to eat on their own, your dad has enforced mandatory family time, which was simply eating dinner while watching a movie together on Sundays.

To be fair, despite all the travelling, they tried really hard to be home every Sunday. You took your spot at the coffee table and picked up the only unoccupied plate.

“I’m feeling Marvel tonight.” Nicky commented, twirling his fork around in his pasta. “Or maybe Disney?”

“Turning Red!” “Inside out!” Your younger brothers both called out simultaneously. You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a chuckle as your mom warily eyes the excited kids, or more accurately, the food balanced on their laps. She’s hopeless, you think freely.

“I’m thinking we should watch Euphoria. Bring some real world problems into this oasis.” you comment, earning a look from your Mom as well. Your older brother's idiot laugh doesn't go unnoticed.

Your Dad raises his wine glass to his lips. “I don't feel like having a stroke at 39. Peter Pan and Wendy it is.” Despite the child-like film, you all cheer as he hits play. Finally you start to dig into the meal your Mom, with the help of little Patton, made.

After you all finish eating, your dad pauses the film. You and Nicky carry the dishes to the dishwasher, load and start it, before making your way back to the living room. Your parents are curled up together and you take the spot on the other side of your dad, while he wraps an arm around you, the boys pile up on the mountain of blankets covering the floor.

As he plays the movie, you find your mind wandering to last night. To what you did in the hot tub at Tanneyhill. To Rafe fucking Cameron. Part of you felt guilty about messing with Roman’ s cousin and lying to your Mom, but the other part of you was burning. Burning to feel his hands on you again, burning to feel that intense pleasure over and over, and burning to know more. And then there was an even smaller part that wanted to know what such an intimate thing would feel like with Roman.

Even though you were still pissed at him for a number of reasons. You never made it back to Rafe’s room last night.

⊱✿⊰

“You're sleeping in my room tonight, gorgeous girl.”

You giggle quietly as he opens the back door and carries you the few steps across the kitchen, to plop you down on the island. “Want some water or something?”

You swing your legs back and forth, feeling the effects of the alcohol you'd been consuming since you got here. “Yes, please.” You turn your head momentarily towards the doorway as you hear light footsteps upstairs. You brush it off, enjoying your inebriated break from everyone else in the world but the man who just made you cum on his lap.

Rafe grabs two waters and comes back to stand between your legs. He moved nervously, you noted. He looked at you, like really looked at you, as he handed you a water bottle. “You okay? How are you feeling after... well- after everything tonight?”

“I'm good, Rafe. I had.. fun.” You reassure him with a small smile, unsure how to phrase it but wanting to reassure him. Which is still more than Roman bothered to do for you.

He gives you his signature panty dropping, schoolboy smirk. His tone is still nervous, however. “So it was okay? I mean, that it was me?” He slides his hands up your thighs coming to rest them on your hips. You could feel a flush of heat creeping up from where he’d just touched your thighs making its way all the way to your cheeks.

“Yes, Rafe.” You manage to say. His touch is intoxicating, his eyes captivating. You find your arms wrapping around his neck, hands burying themselves in his soft, dark blonde hair. “It was better than okay.”

He leans in to plant a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before leaning back slightly and catching your eye. You tug him towards you and his lips meet yours devotedly. He pulls you closer to the edge, your bodies meeting again, chest to chest. He bites your swollen bottom lip and separates from you only to tilt his head and kiss you even deeper.

His hands move to grip the sides of your ass and you whine against his lips, causing him to grip you harder. Still chasing the feeling he gave you outside, you push your crotch against his as best as you can from your place on the counter.

“Y/N.” He keens,”I'm never gonna get enough of you.” Rafe buries his face in your neck, leaving warm and wet kisses, leaving his hands to grope your sides.

Lost in the lust washing over you, you both hear the telltale pad of multiple pairs of feet, too late.

“Oh shit” A giggle. “Dude!” Disgust.

“What the fuck?” Anger.

Your head whips over to see three shocked teens standing at the entrance of the kitchen with varying reactions. Rafe slowly lifts his head but doesnt look away from you. Your mouth opens and closes, floundering for words. You look between the three and Rafe as you push him away and jump off of the counter.

Nicky and Mia are slowly starting to snicker, but Roman is just staring at you with disbelieving eyes. The other girl is nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, now this. This makes more sense.” Nicky laughs, referring to this morning when your parents caught you and Roman in your bed, asleep.

“Looks like you have a date to midsummers now, Y/N.” Mia comments with a raised brow.

You remain frozen, aside from your bottom lip wobbling and you biting it in a second attempt to keep your tears at bay tonight. How many times can one girl be humiliated in a day? You don't even want to look back at Romans face.

Rafe eyes your wobbly lip and reaches for you, tugging your hand into his. “Hey, wanna go to sleep now?”

“What the fuck is this? What's happening right now?” You look up from your entwined hands, at Romans dubious tone.

“Roman-”

“Come outside, Y/N.” He walks past you both, through the doors you just entered from, ignoring Mia calling his name on the way out.

You inhale a deep shaky breath. Your brother casts Mia a clueless, questioning glance, which she ignores as she's focused on examining you and Rafe. “I should...” You trail off as Rafe squeezes your hand softly, meeting his eyes.

“Its okay. I'll talk to him later, yeah?” He places a quick peck to your head.

“Y/N, what's going on? I feel like I'm missing something.” Your brother comments quizzically.

Rafe moves to usher them out of the kitchen, “Later , man.” You hear him mutter quietly to Nicky, who meets your gaze one more time before turning back to the den area. Mia lingers a second as you squeeze and shake your hands out, nervously.

“He’s never gonna get it together. Not for you, princess. Listen to Rafe, maybe that way you can stop stepping on people's toes and you won't get hurt.” Mia says the words quietly, but her tone of voice makes it clear that it's a threat. She smiles at you and follows in the direction of two older boys, while you do your best to ignore her and choke down all of the unpleasant feelings building up and make your way to the patio doors.

When you open the door, you immediately see Roman sitting on the porch swing with his head back, looking up at the sky with his usual pout. He doesn't move, or say anything so you walk over to him and sit down. Anxiety wracks your body, as you prepare to inevitably have an uncomfortable encounter with the bipolar boy you called your best friend.

You risk a glance at him and are alarmed to see moisture pooling in his eyes, “Roman.” You whisper. “Hey, I-”

“What was that?” He sits up and turns to face you.”Just- what the hell was that?”

Your eyes widen a little at the intensity of his behaviour. He takes one of your hands in his and looks at you expectantly. “Was that just you guys being dumb, or was that -” He stutters for a second and then takes a deep breath. “Or was that something more?”

“I dont know.” The truth, you were too drunk to decipher your current feelings toward Rafe.

“What?” He scoffs. “I just caught you making out with my cousin,Y/N, and youre saying you don't know why?” He drops your hand, and faces forward, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Your eyes narrow at him. He was the one who'd failed to verbally recognize the fact that something definitely happened between you two. He's been avoiding it hardcore for the past month or so.

“No, Roman, I don't. Besides, you didn't catch me doing anything.” You snap. “The word ‘catch’ implies that i’m in trouble, and I can do whatever I fucking want, technically. Nobody else seems to give a damn about my feelings.” You run your hands through your messy hair. Maybe you shouldn't have thrown that in his face but at the moment, he was pissing drunk you off.

The lanky boy looks at you with ferocity lurking beneath his incredulous expression. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Use your fucking context clues.” You cuss back.

He just stares at you as you attempt to avoid looking him in the eyes. For a second it seems like he's going to finally acknowledge the kiss you shared, weeks ago. You see the recognition in his features for a fraction of a second before he’s up, pacing. “You're ridiculous. Seriously, if you think Rafe is gonna commit to you, or treat you well for that matter.”

Your mouth falls open in shock when you hear Rafes name come out of Romans mouth. He didn't just blatantly deflect the topic of conversation, did he? Bastard.

“Jesus, have you lost your mind? You know what kind of person he is, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he spews his bullshit.

You take his dramatic, silent irritation as an invitation to add fuel to the fire, fed up with his week-long diversions from the underlying issue in your friendship. “Yeah, well, at least he didn't kiss me and then pretend it never happened.” You stand up and cross your arms defiantly.

Roman sighs a deep, shaky breath of air. “Y/N... Jesus. You really wanna do this, huh?” You look up, toeing the area of grass you'd just been staring at. His face, his eyes, his whole demeanour are pleading with you to stop. “It was my first kiss, Roman.”

He shuts his eyes for a second and you watch as his breathing becomes a little heavier. When he opens them, he starts toward your teary eyed figure but you step back and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N, i'm so sorry. I didn't know that.”

You nod, tears spilling over your waterline and cascading down your cheek into the ground. Where you wish you could disappear. You ignore the pain in your heart. You ignore the way this feels like a friendship ending argument. You ignore his own tears as they begin to meet yours in the soil.

“I know.” You sniffle, you didn't want to punish him. You don't even know what you want from this conversation. This isn't a good idea, you're drunk. You can't ignore the wave of anxiety that hits you, completely out of nowhere. “I just can't do this, Rome.”

You start to back up, but he follows you. “Do what?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and uncross your arms to instead wrap them around yourself. After a breath, you open them. Roman looks regretful. “Do what,Y/N?”

Be your friend, Is what you wanted to say.

“I can't see you right now.” Is what you say.

You turn around before he has time to see your face completely crumble. Panic, anxiety, and heart ache all fight for dominance over the sob working its way up your throat. You swallow it down and go find Nicky. You wouldn't be staying in Rafes room tonight.

⊱✿⊰

By the end of the movie, your two youngest siblings are asleep. With Olivia having every Sunday off, you and Nicky fold up the blankets quietly talking about the film. Meanwhile, your Parents had each carried a sibling to bed to be tucked in. You grab a stack of blankets and carry them into the hall to put away in the linen closet. When you come back to the living room, your Mom is refilling your parents wine glasses, preparing to watch another movie with your Dad.

Nicky makes eye contact with you and widens his eyes slightly, insinuating something up.

“Ah, the gangs all here. Good. Sit.” Your Dad walks into the den and clasps his hands quietly.

You and Nicky both sit down on a loveseat near the front door and exchange a look. Your parents only do these little meetings to drop big news.

“So, nothing major but Wednesday night you're both expected to be home early for dinner. We're having guests over and there's a surprise involved.”

Nicky groans,”Mom, please. If you're pregnant again, I'm getting emancipated.”

You scoff out a laugh at your brother's blatant statement, before covering it up as a cough when you get a look from your Mom.

“Dominique.” Your father deadpans. “If your mom is pregnant, I’ll take you all and run. It isn't that.”

Your mom downs her wine. “This is why they don't have respect, Joseph.”

Your Dad gives her a warm grin and wraps her up under his arm. “Like I said, just be home early for dinner. Understood?”

You and Nicky ultimately agree without too much prying for details. After bidding your Parents goodnight, you both make your way upstairs. Your brother stops at your door as you enter your room and leans against the doorframe. “So....” He trails off and you roll your eyes as you search through your dresser for a large Tshirt, settling on one that Roman left here.

“Yes, Nicky?”

“What happened last night? I saw you mackin’ on Rafe but why was Roman so mad?” He walks further into your room and plops on your bed.

“Nicky!” You whine, batting at him with the t-shirt in your hands. “Get the hell off my blankets, you went outside in that outfit!”

It's Nicky's turn to roll his eyes at your rules, as he dramatically rolls off of your bed onto a pile of laundry on the floor, stretching out like a starfish. “Whatever. So what happened? I noticed that you stayed at the house all day. And kinda have been for a while.” He adds.

You let out a dramatic sigh of despair and slide down your dresser so that you're sitting facing your bed. “I’m so dumb, Nicky. I think I fucked up.”

He sits up on his elbows, facing you. “Wait, what? What's the matter?”

You contemplate telling him everything for a moment. What's the worst that could happen? Then you think back to the last time you asked yourself that question, and any ideas of total honesty dissipate. “I don't know...” and then, you remember. “What did you mean when you said that me and Rafe made sense?”

He sits up all the way and musses his hair. “I don't know, I was drunk, Y/N. I guess I always just assumed you’d rebel against Mom and Dad. Rafe would make sense for that. More sense than your childhood best friend.”

"Me and Rafe are friends, too.” You point out, although you know it's not the same.

“Not like you and Roman.”

You contemplate this quietly. Nicky comes over to where you're sitting and plants himself beside you.

“Listen sis, I don't know what the hell is going on, but you can tell me if I need to kick someone's ass. I won't ask questions.”

You shake your head sadly. ”It's not like that. I just did a dumb thing and now I have to live with it.”

Your older brother stands up and ruffles your hair. “Well, that's nothing new, is it? Goodnight Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Nicky.”

He shuts your door and you change into your shirt before turning on your fan and hopping in bed.

After about 15 minutes of staring at your ceiling, trying to make sense of your feelings, you were over it. You were agonising over whether or not to check your phone for a text from Roman and beating yourself up over what happened with Rafe. You flip over and grab the TV remote. Deciding to listen to something scary, you settle on a rerun of the Paranormal Activity films and turn back over, letting the TV lull you to sleep.

Not 10 minutes later, when you're almost out like a light, does your phone begin ringing quietly on the nightstand. You register the noise and flail under the covers, frustratedly. You snatch your phone up and accept the call, barely registering the name on the screen.

“What?” You almost growl.

“Wow, hello to you too, beautiful.” Rafe’s deep voice rings through the speaker.

“Do not disturb means do not disturb, not call twice, Rafe.” You can't help your tone, your anxiety keeps you up most nights, and you were so close to ending the night on a good note, moments before.

“I'm sorry, I’d take any option that guaranteed your attention.” He laughs.” Did I wake you up?”

“Yes actually.” You sigh, readjusting your covers from the flail. “Did you need something?” “Can I come over?”

“Seriously, Rafe? Its-” You pull your phone away from your cheek and look at the time, faltering.

“Only 9 P.M.? Exactly.” You can hear his smug face over the phone. “So?”

You feel queasy at the thought of seeing Rafe, despite being so explicit with him the night before. It felt like a betrayal to Roman in a way because you two hadn’t spoken since the fight last night where he expressed his disapproval of Rafe and you together. Although a small part of you doesn't care about his opinion, after his blatant disregard for your feelings.

“I don't think that's a great idea, Rafe, my parents are awake downstairs.” You try.

He’s quiet for a second, and then there's an incoming facetime from him. You answer the call and you see Rafe sitting up, shirtless, against his headboard. He has to fight his smile, seeing you laying on your side, hair cascading around your shoulder like a waterfall of curls.

“Is it because of last night?”

You mentally smack yourself for answering a call where he can see your face. Rafe always knew when you were lying. When you guys were 12 and 13, you covered for him when he broke one of Wards Golf awards and he figured out that you had a tell. You couldn't make eye contact.

“W-what?”

“The real reason you don't want to see me.” He says in a bored tone. “Is it because of Roman?”

“No.” You roll your eyes.

“Dont lie to me, Y/N.” The dominant tone he's taking right now has you rethinking your previous statements.

“Fine, yeah. It Is, Rafe.” Pulling the covers up to your chin. “He’s one of my best friends, and you're his cousin. It feels weird that things are like this. I can't stop thinking about that stupid fight.”

You hear shuffling on Rafe’s end and then the sound of keys.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm comin over.” You start to protest but he cuts you off. “I'm gonna take your mind off of it.”

He ends the call and you're left staring at the screen dumbfounded. Now that he’s ended the call, you see a whole slew of texts and missed calls from John B and Kie, and even JJ asking you to join in on the boat day they had today. Nothing from Roman. He was usually always the first to cave after an argument, seeking you out almost every time. The lack of contact, admittedly worried you.

You sigh, sitting up in bed now. There are so many questions swirling around in your head. What was Roman thinking about? Was he still angry with you? What was Rafe thinking about? Was he going to try something? How were you supposed to hide yet another boy in your room without invoking your Mothers anger? More importantly though, how did you look right now?

You spring up and run to the ensuite bathroom. Your hair, once pinned up with a claw clip, now falls loosely around you with flyaway curlies everywhere and you wore only Roman’s T Shirt and a pair of boy short panties as makeshift PJs. You pull your clip out and stare at the excess tendrils of hair falling around you, trying to finger comb them down.

“Is it even worth it, for real?” You ask yourself as you eye the brush that would no doubt make your situation worse. Deciding that, no, it isn't worth it, you grab your mouthwash and gargle a mouthful before spitting it out, rinsing your mouth, and washing your face.

Back in your room, you realise how hot and stuffy it is. You unlock the balcony doors that face the ocean, so that Rafe can get inside. Then you pad across the floor and unlatch your bedroom window, going to open it for the breeze but nearly screaming out loud as it's pushed open, seconds later. “Ahh!”

Rafes hand shoots out to cover your mouth as he precariously balances himself between your windowsill and the branch he's perched on. He gives you an exasperated look. “Jesus, I literally live 5 minutes away. Move.”

You clutch your chest and take a step back just as he pushes off of the branch and pulls himself through the window. “Why didn't you just climb onto the balcony, you could've fallen.” You comment as he steadies himself.

Rafe examines your face, stepping closer. “Your Mom had all the trees near it cut down, remember?”

You’d forgotten about that. As soon as you turned 15 your Mom had to escape-proof your room because of an incident involving a party, a week prior. Which included cutting down the trees near your balcony and removing the garden trellis that crept up right beside it, leaving only an old oak tree beside the window that was across from your bedroom door. “Oh, right.”

You back up and sit on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you. Rafe pushes his hair off of his forehead as he takes a seat. The sound of the movie playing is all that can be heard as you both quietly observe each other. He looks really good in his simple blue tee and basketball shorts, and you can't help the natural, girly giddiness you feel.

“You look really pretty.” he starts.

Letting out a small laugh, “Shut up. I look like I was about to go to sleep. You look good though.” You go to smack his chest playfully, but he catches your hand.

“You're still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, but you quell it and withdraw your hand slowly. One thing Rafe and his cousin had in common was their notoriety as two of the island's biggest playboys. “Don't say things you don't mean, Rafe.”

Rafe smiles at you knowingly, yet you don't know why. “Remember when we were like...” He thinks about it. “I was 9 and you were 8. We were playing hide and seek with a bunch of other kids at Olivia’s garden party?” He questions.

You remember. You’d gotten locked into the old outdoor cellar, while trying to use it as a hiding spot. You'd been locked in for what felt like hours as you plotted a way out, the music and ongoing party drowning out your cries. As a kid you remember thinking you’d be down there forever, You nod, telling Rafe to go on.

“You had all the other kids going crazy, we all thought you’d gotten kidnapped but we were too scared to tell anyone.” He chuckles at the memory. “But then you walked around the side of the house covered in dirt and I remember being so happy to see you. Even though you were crying and looked like a mess, running for your parents. You were the prettiest girl to me then. You're still that same girl, now.”

You make a face, scrunching your nose. “Why is my near death experience such a significant memory for you? I could've died, digging that little tunnel under the door.”

“But you didn't.” He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Jesus, you suck at accepting compliments.”

“Yeah, well, you kinda suck at giving them.” You smack his hands away, smoothing your mussed hair. His eyes shoot to your bare legs as your T-shirt rides up. Then they flick up to scrutinise the shirt itself and you wonder if he’ll mention anything about its owner.

Instead he tugs at the hem of it with a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes. “Anything under here?”

You blush. “Rafe, shut up.” You weren't expecting Rafe to be here right now in the first place. In fact, you'd tried to avoid it. Just because you guys got drunk and fooled around didn't mean you suddenly were into Rafe. That's just what teenagers do, right? Yeah, he may look like a god and he always smells good but you didnt wanna risk your friendship with him or Roman further.

“Make me.”

His fingers slip past the hem, teasing their way up your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you stop breathing. But when his fingers brush too close to your clothed pussy, you snatch at his wrist and he looks up at your face, fingers frozen over your core.

“Rafe, what do you want?”

“Honestly?” You nod, matching his heavy eye contact.

“I just wanna make you feel good, baby. ” He inches his face closer to yours, while you slowly start to forget why you stopped him. “Right now I really want to make you cum on my fingers.” He only breaks eye contact as he presses his lips against yours roughly. You loosen your grip on his wrist, your inhibitions melting at his actions.

He takes the opportunity to press his thumb against your clit, eliciting a soft whine into his mouth. Your breaths mingle together, hearts beginning to race in sync with the electric tension that's filling the air.

Rafe cradles your face gently in one hand, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your jaw as your tongues swirl against each other. His warm touch causes a shiver to go down your spine and he smirks into the kiss. You feel his heartbeat against your chest as he lowers you onto the bed, his fingers stroking you over your panties.

“Rafe,” You coo against his soft lips. “Keep touching me there.”

“Yeah, Princess? Like this?” Rafe drags his thumb around your clit in circles, increasing the pressure. Your hips grind involuntarily towards his hand as you nod, a moan escaping your lips.

“Shhh, be quiet.” He presses another short kiss to your lips, letting go of your face to yank your shirt up to your belly and focus his gaze on his handiwork.

Rafe continues to tease you, your panties preventing you from feeling his skin. He looks up at you, watching your reaction as he ghosts his fingers over your entrance again. You were suddenly filled with a longing for something more - an indefinable desire that was rooted in your core, and it made you shiver with pleasure.

Rafe smiles smugly as he watches you, his gaze tender yet smouldering. He leans forward and kisses you, your mouths exploring each other with an intensity that takes your breath away. With each kiss, your concerns about Roman faded away, replaced by something new and exciting and unbearably sweet.

When he finally pulls away, Rafe drags his hand away from your pussy to brush lightly against your hips, tracing a gentle line along the curve of your waist. You shiver again, skin prickling with pleasure as he moves his hands lower.

To your surprise his fingers lace between yours, and he gently tugs you towards him. “Do you want me to keep touching you, baby?” You nod desperately, extremely flushed. “Can you keep quiet?”

You nod again and before you can protest his fingers are in your panties. He teases you slowly, and his breathing becomes heavier. You're lost in a world of sensation as his thumb finds your clit again, beginning to create blissful, swirling patterns.

His fingers slowly trail lower, to your entrance, and you can feel your body responding to his touch, almost dripping over his fingers. Your skin is alive with a pleasure you've never felt before.

Rafe groans while you throw your head back as he begins pushing his index and middle fingers inside of you, the stretching sensation too intense for you to take it. You grab at his forearm as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, the heat from his touch making you moan.

”W-ait.” You attempt to push his arm away but he holds you in place with his free arm, his pace becoming more insistent. The painful stretch begins to fade into something much more pleasurable.

“Let me make you feel good,Y/N.”

Rafe moves his fingers at a quick pace, repeatedly stroking against your G-spot until you're a whining, moaning mess. As you begin to feel yourself nearing an orgasm, you silently beg him to stop before you could release, as if that would make this any better. Rafe, however, seemed to be enjoying your reaction and continued his assault, his fingers sliding deeper and faster.

You felt your entire body ignite with a pleasure that was both overwhelming and exquisite. Your hands find his shirt and you ball it up in your fists, feeling yourself release, squirting on his hand and your covers. You’re screaming muffled profanities into Rafes palm as your orgasm finally engulfs you. Your body goes limp with relief, your breathing ragged as you lie there, trembling.

Rafe withdraws his fingers and sits up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. You felt embarrassed and ashamed, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pleasure you had just experienced. As you slowly sit up, fixing your panties, Rafe's smirk widens.

"That was quite the experience, hmm?" he says in a smug voice.

You could feel your cheeks flush and you quickly look away, your heart pounding with a mix of emotions. Rafe leans closer and puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. "Hey, It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm just glad I made you feel that good. That was fun right?"

You nodded, your face still flushed with embarrassment. You look away again, not wanting to meet his gaze. ‘It's just that... I didn't expect it to feel that way. I'm kind of overwhelmed. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”

Rafe pulls you into his chest and wraps an arm around you. “It doesn't sound stupid. I get it, I've never seen a girl squirt before, either. I'm sorry if that was too much.”

You roll your eyes, as he can't see you, at his boyish thoughts. "It's fine, Rafe.” You pull away from Rafes hug and stare at your carpet awkwardly. Sensing your hesitance he looks away from you nonchalantly, “You tired?”

Seeing the question as an out, you meet his eyes and nod, feeling the atmosphere in the room change. His smile is small, disappointed. “I'll see you tomorrow then? Or Wednesday?” You furrow your eyebrows. “The dinner that your parents are hosting..?”

You remember your Dads statement earlier, the dinner and the surprise. “Oh, okay yeah. You're coming?”

“Yeah, So are Olivia and Roman.” Rafe replies as he stands up, wiping his cum covered hands on his shorts. You internally cringe at how awkward this interaction is turning out to be. It's your fault, you have to fucking ruin everything. You nod your head as if you aren't mentally cursing yourself out. “But hey, Y/N?”

You meet his expectant stare. “Yeah?”

He kisses your forehead before backing towards your window, smirking as he opens it once again. “I took your mind off of it, didn't I?” And with that he's gone.

⊱✿⊰

He did not, in fact, take your mind off of it.

Two hours later, you're still awake, staring at your ceiling fan trying to drown out the negative thoughts eating you alive. You had a tendency to overthink, and with that came anxiety. The best remedy for your anxiety was alcohol, which not only did you not have access too at the moment, but it also caused you to make dumb bitch decisions, occasionally. You couldn't help but crave it anyways.

You felt incredibly guilty and even ashamed that you let things go that far with Rafe, especially given the fact that he didn't seem to be concerned about your actual feelings about it.

As the minutes go by and sleep evades you, you give up rolling over to pick up your silenced phone. You have a slew of unanswered notifications but one name immediately catches your attention. Sitting up in bed you click on the notification, fast as shit.

45 Minutes Ago

Romeo: Jelli bbeen

Romeo: com to our beecfh

Rome: Plz im srory

Fuck, I'm a horrible person, you instantly hit the call button, knowing that he’s drunk off of his ass. When the call goes to voicemail straight away, you hop out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and crocs, slipping quietly out of your room determined to go make sure he's okay.

You pause at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of your parents, when you hear nothing you creep down the carpeted stairs slowly.

FInally reaching the back door, you slide it open as quietly as you can and creep outside. Shutting it behind you, you turn around to walk towards Romans house when you spot a figure, down on the beach, near your family's dock.

You curse under your breath and hurry towards the figure. As you near, you can clearly see Romans broad torso hunched over, one arm laying on his knee holding a bottle of Jack and the other stuck in his extremely messy hair.

“Rome.” You call softly so as not to startle him.

He raises his head slightly, back to you, but doesn't move otherwise. “Jellybean?”

“Yeah... it's me, what's going on Roman?” You put a hand on his shoulder, sitting down beside him. “What are you doing sitting out here? It's almost Midnight.”

Roman looks at you in a mixture of melancholy and clear intoxication. His lips twitch into a slight frown, as if he is going to cry, but only momentarily, before he takes a shot and hands you the bottle. You take it, gratefully. “I needed to see you, talk to you.” He’s slurring, dangerously. ”I really fucking hate what happened yesterday.”

Before you reply you take a shot too, and sigh. “Which part?”

“All of it. I really fucking hated it all, guppy.” He turns towards you, his demeanor slightly more defeated than a minute ago. He was naturally a manic person, but when he was drunk, he went from tough guy to busting out every pet name in the book in hopes of being babied. “Seeing Rafe touch you, seeing you like it.... us fighting.”

Your eyes widen, slightly. “What does that even mean, Roman?

Roman stares at you with his sad green eyes, dejectedly. “I want to fix it. I fucked up and I want to fix it.” He taps the bottle in your hand and you hold eye contact as you take another drink, passing it to him afterwards, him doing the same.

“It's not entirely your fault, Roman.” You let your eyes fall to the sand between you. You hated lying, but you didn't know what was going on in his head and telling him about Rafe being in your room, less than 3 hours ago, would possibly just serve to make him more upset. “I shouldn't have kissed Rafe.” You omit the part about you grinding and cumming on his dick, for Romans sake.

He grabs your hand in his and pulls you to scoot closer, you do. “Ya’guys only kissed cuz’ I never talked to you about us.” he says. “M’ sorry if I hurt you baby. I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you.” He cups your face, dragging his thumbs across your cheeks.

You hold your breath, deja vu from a few weeks ago hits you square in the chest. This is exactly how he kissed you the first time. You've wanted to hear those words from him for weeks, hoping that he was secretly in love with you too, not while he was this heavily inebriated, however.

You gently grab his hands and squeeze them, lowering them so they are between you both. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning, bubba?”

Roman's lip starts trembling, barely noticeable, at the nickname. “Y/N, no. You deserve an explanation, please let me explain.” He whines. “I do love you. It wasn't about you.” He looks at your joined hands for a moment before placing a kiss on your knuckles and peering hesitantly up into your eyes.

You couldn't help but want to hear him out. Your heart constricts as he begins speaking in a pained voice. “It's my Mom, Y/N. Shes fucking insane. Do you remember, 9th grade, I was with Allie Mcentyre?”

You nod, pensively. You'd been friends with Allie that year, because she was dating Roman, before she abruptly cut you off. Roman seemed not to care, so you didn't either. “Yeah before she ditched us.”

He grimaces. “She didn't ditch us, Y/N.” You furrow your eyebrows in question. “She was the first girl I ever brought around Mom, and the entire fucking time, she gaslit and- and lied an' manipulated both of us." Roman pauses as he hiccups, and gathers his words. "She would text her cryptic shit from my phone and then delete it so that it seemed like her angry texts were random, she’d tell her that she wasn't good enough for me and me the same. Allie told me she didnt want to see me anymore after my mom told her mom that I’d been having sex with multiple girls at a time.” He chuckles. “I was still a fucking virgin. She just wanted to ruin what I had. I realized she’s only going to let me be with someone that she chooses for me.”

“Roman...” Your mouth opens and shuts while you process your next words. “Im so fucking sorry, that I didnt know about that. That's literally insane.”

Roman chuckles drily, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “It's okay, I didn't tell you.”

You squeeze him and pull away. "I shouldve been there for you, I'm sorry."

Roman shakes his head, placing a hand back on your cheek, thumb resuming its soft, delicate strokes. “No. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I love you, jellybean, please don't be mad at me.”

You gently press your palm against his hand but this time you don’t remove it. “I could never stay mad at you, Roman. I love you too.” How could you ever be angry with this side of him? Nobody ever gets to see this side but you. The whiskey stupor you were beginning to feel caused you to zero in on the tall boy beside you.

His lazy, responsive smile is so boyish and sweet, it makes you buzz with desire, and briefly you recall wondering what it would feel like to do what you did with Rafe, with Roman instead. They are different in more ways than they were similar. Roman is hard and broken, but his pure heart radiates through the cracks, whereas Rafe was a tried and true asshole, though you had to confess you didn't know him as well as you knew the boy in front of you.

“Y/N?” Roman bites his lip and a slight frown forms between his brows as he glances down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of answering, you tangle your hands in his hair and pull him to you, desperately connecting your lips. You caught Roman off guard but he quickly grabs ahold of your waist in his free hand, managing to hastily pull you onto his lap.

As your mouths slowly move together, a warm electrifying feeling spreads through you, time seems to slow down, allowing you to focus solely on his lips and the emotions they were making you feel. His hands find yours, intertwining them with his, solidifying the bond you two were experiencing.

You couldn't help but think about the way Rafe kissed you earlier, only in that his kiss was much less intimate, yet more hungry and physically intense. WIth Roman, it was a slow dance of tongues and lips meshing that made you soaked for him in a completely different way. You purposely rolled your hips over his and he groans, squeezing your joined hands. You break the kiss and lean back slightly, admiring the boy who has your heart.

“Hmm, baby?” His lips look a delicious, puffy red and his eyes are half lidded, he looks so sexy right now. Before you could help it, you’re grinding your pussy against his member again, both of you letting out satisfied moans at the friction. “Y/N, shit. What are you doing to me?”

The whiskey in your system has your body acting on its own, out of sexual frustration from the months of built up tension between you two, desperate to explore it with him. You just let his cousin finger fuck you. Fuck, two shots wouldn't be enough.

You pick up the bottle of Jack Daniels, resigned to the choices you were about to make, and downed two or three shots. You force yourself to ignore the burn, and Romans drunk, questioning gaze as you tipped his chin and poured some into his mouth. He shakes his head with a grimace, swallowing down the shitty tasting alcohol.

Without wasting a beat, you begin peppering kisses along his neck, and he lets out a spur of dirty, drunken noises from the back of his throat.

“Does that feel good?” You can't help but tease your clit along his clothed erection again, body moving intoxicatedly of its own free will, chasing the friction his shorts provided, as he struggles to answer and resigns to nodding. You move your mouth up to his ear, sucking softly on it before whispering, “Roman, I want you so bad, want you to fuck me.”

“Wh-” Instantly his hands are on your hips, pushing you slightly back. “Jellybean, what?” He seems almost instantly sobered as he examines your features. "I thought you were a virgin?” You flush at your own obviousness, feeling it even over the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

“Well... I mean, I am. But, I want you to be the first.” You grip onto the bottom of his shirt, glancing down, doing your best not to appear as the tipsy, desperate slut you feel like.

Roman sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a second, squeezing your hips gently. “Y/N, I dont know about you, but Im really fucked up right now.” You nod, still not looking up but he lowers his head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I want it to be good for you. I want it to be special, not like this, pretty girl.”

Your eyes begin to well up quickly, in humility at the perceived rejection and you look out at the ocean, wiping at your tears before they can fall. “I'm sorry, Rome, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry.”

“Love, you aren't stupid. Believe me when I say I want this as bad as you.” Roman shocks you when he removes your hand, that's clutching his shirt, to place it on his hard length. “This is what you fucking do to me, baby. And when the time is right, I won't just be the first, I'll be the last too.” He gives you a lopsided smirk and a delicate kiss on the lips.

You offer him a small smile in response, he was being such sweetheart and you felt horrible. At the forefront of your clouded brain, you were desperate to replace Rafe's touch with Roman's as if it would erase your prior actions, but you shove it to the back, focusing on his reassurance. "Is that a promise?"

“Of course, it is. I know I've been so wrapped up in my own head, trying to keep everything...normal, but I don't want to do that anymore.” He pulls you close again and rests his forehead against yours. “I want this, baby. I want you.”

No, no, no. Roman, dont. Not right now. The guilt is going to crush you. You look down. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His hopeful eyes await yours.

You're quiet for a beat too long before you slowly look back into his expectant face. “I can't, Roman... my Dad. You know how he is.” It's bullshit, but he doesn't know it. Yeah your dad would have an aneurysm but you didn't care in the slightest. You had to make sure that Rafe wouldn't say anything about what you guys did, and break things off with him first, before you made an even bigger mess. Roman was wasted, he might not even remember this in the morning.

Romans face falls a bit at your words. He just promised to endure his mothers psychopathy for you and you wouldn't even return the favour? You hate the look that flashes across his face and hurry to reassure him. “I'll talk to him, okay? After dinner on Wednesday.”

He nods somberly, “Yeah, okay. If you want to.”

You grab his face and plant a kiss on his pouty lips. “I do, Romeo, don't worry. And I promise, I will.”

He laughs at that, loving the nickname. You made many mistakes, but you wouldn't let this be one of them. The feelings that the boy under you made you feel, compared to absolutely nothing else. At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

[chicaboom-chic]

More Than Business- Michael Corleone x Reader

PROMPT: The reader is from a different crime family and she thinks he’s only marrying her for connections but he actually loves her.

Thank you @21witnokidz for the prompt.

WARNINGS: None, other than pretty shitty writing. (My cousin and I wrote this when we were drunk. Seriously guys this story is disjointed and weird. Sorry)

WORD COUNT: 3967 

There’s a moment where it hits you again; there it is that feeling of unease and formidable tension. It resurfaces in the silence, as you stare at Michael from across the room. You’re in his father’s office with him, he had whisked you away from the hectic party for a moment alone, a moment of brief intimacy. 

It was ironic the party was being thrown for the both of you but between the questions from the nosy aunts, cousins, and uncles, you and Michael had barely seen each other. And now even with your absence the party still raged on outside. Lively chatter and laughter could be heard from behind the office door, it was accompanied by the slow strum of a guitar and the sweet serenade of Italian songs.

Michael’s family and your family had congregated at the Corleone house. They had come toghether for a celebration of great measure, an engagement party; your engagement. Michael had proposed to you three months ago but had only announced your engagement two weeks ago. So naturally, a party had been thrown. Nearly everyone who knew your family and the Corleone family had turned up.

Don Corleone's house was littered with family, friends, politicians, and those alike, all of whose faces were twisted into smiles of great elation. In the parlor, the women sat, forming a small mother’s club where they caught up on gossip and talked about their children.

 Outside by the courtyard, the men congregated laughing as they took swigs of alcohol, downing drinks that they would definitely feel in the morning. And the kids were everywhere, they absolutely swarmed the place; you could only imagine what the rest of the Corleone house looked like.

It was a day of great joy… it was supposed to be. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to smile or even share the same level of excitement everybody had. It was your engagement party but you had never felt more restless and miserable.

Since the party had commenced a feeling of worry had been toiling in your stomach, which expanded the already deep chasm of doubt, that had managed to grow in size over the passing weeks.

What had started out as a silly afterthought, had now become a horrifying idea.

Is Michael using me?

In the last few months, a slew of thoughts had slipped their way into your subconscious, thoughts that made you question the intentions Michael had for asking for your hand in marriage.

Is Michael using me?

You shot a glance at Michael from your seat, retreating from your thoughts temporarily. He was by his father’s cabinet pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He noticed your prying gaze and met your eyes, he smiled at you warmly.

You smiled back, however, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, when you looked at Michael a pang of sadness hit you.

You fought the urge to frown as you thought back to the hushed business conversation Michael frequently had with your father after you had gotten engaged, you remembered the look of appraisal in his father, Vito’s, eyes when you were introduced to him as Michael’s fiancee. You remembered how surprised Tom looked when he registered your last name.

It had been right in front of you, all the signs were glaringly red.

Oh, God!

You tore your eyes away from Michael and looked down at your lap. In your lap sat your hands which you fiddled with uncontrollably.

How could I be so stupid? You thought bitterly. It all makes sense now.

Being the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in new york sometimes meant that men took interest in you for the wrong reasons. You also weren’t privy to your father’s business, which often attracted certain types of men.

You knew the ins and outs of your father’s business, the connections he had; connections that a family like Corleone’s would need.

Connections that Michael might need.

No, this can't be. 

You swallowed the lump that had been forming in your throat, biting down on your trembling lip to stop the whimper escaping from your lip.

It can’t be…

It was a sickening thought really, that perhaps Michal wanted you for what you could offer and not who you were. Maybe the love between the both of you was synthetic on his part; a mere ruse to obtain financial and business opportunities.

That in itself was bad enough, however, the sting of being used didn’t hurt as much as the sting of not being loved. In your mind, if Michael did love you and was using you, you could tolerate it to some level because at least he loved you. But whether he loved was a question that hung in the air, like a foul stench.

Did Michael love you?

Did he not?

It was painful to think about. You never considered that you would have to think about Michael this way. When you began dating Michael, the idea had never crossed your mind. 

Michael had just back from the war and had ended a relationship with a school teacher by the name of Kay, at the time you didn’t know he belonged to the Corleone family, he was very distant about his family.

After dating for a small amount of time you had found yourself utterly taken with him, practically obsessed. He was everything you longed for in a man. He was kind, gentle, and compassionate, he was also highly attractive which helped greatly. When he asked you to marry him you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Now looking back on it maybe you shouldn’t have been so hasty.

If I had known I was to be a trading piece I would have-

“Y/n, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet.” Michael asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been lingering between the two of you. His voice drew you from your thoughts and you looked up.

He was leering at you from his behind the desk, his face was a mixture of concern and curiosity. By now he had noticed the unease plastered on your face as well as the detachment you had from him. You had been silent for too long.

You looked at him, questioning whether it was wise to lie. Michael was rather receptive when it came to your emotions, he could notice the subtle changes in your mood. He would easily know if you were lying.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Michael.” You said as you shook your head. You opted to lie, knowing he wouldn’t press the matter further unless you gave him a reason to.

You straightened your shoulders and gave him your most convincing smile. “I’m just tired that’s all.” You chalked it down to fatigue, a plausible excuse, after all, today you had been very busy.

Michael nodded, and his eyes dropped from you momentarily. He placed his glass of scotch down on the desk and unloosened his tie. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” He asked. As he did so, he released an exasperated sigh.

Your eyes dropped from him, and you looked up to the ceiling. “Ummm, yes.”

No, Michael, I’m not. Are you marrying me for my family’s connections?

The thought fired past the many ones just like it in your head. But you merely ignored it. You sighed and looked away from the ceiling, looking back at Michael.

“How about you?” You said, trying to squash any feelings of doubt.

“Yes, though I didn’t get to talk with a lot of people as I was wrapped up in some things.” Michael walked away from the desk and sat on a chair at the other end of the room.

“However, I actually did manage to talk to your aunts though, rather they found me. We had some interesting conversations.” Michael laughed as he thought back to how your aunts had grilled him about whether big noses are a sign of good endowment in Italian culture.

“The women in your family are quite some characters!”

Michael’s voice filled the room as he continued to talk, he was more talkative than usual. He went on about the party. But his words were met with no replies, you weren’t really listening, you just nodded absent-mindedly at his comments. The bombardment of thoughts had already made it hard for you to hear.

Does he love me?

He says it all the time, but now I’m not sure.

But what else did I expect?

Of course, he’s marrying me for my father’s connections, do you think a girl like me would ever have a chance with a man like Michael if I didn’t have something to offer?

Your thoughts were spiteful and bitter, they pricked at you like a needle. They hurt you greatly but you couldn’t help but conjure them. You couldn’t help but believe they were true.

Your doubts continued as did  Michael’s chatter, however unbeknownst to you, he had stopped talking a while ago. He had noticed that you were engorged by silence, this was the second time you had become unresponsive.

“Have you eaten?” Michael asked. 

The question went over your head, you were too trapped in your thoughts.

“Y/n?” Michael’s voice suddenly peaked, having to have raised his voice for you to hear.

You jolted suddenly. “Pardon?” You met his gaze again.

“Did you eat? You said you were tired.” Michael was frowning now; it was a frown of concern.

You swallow hard. The room has suddenly become unbearably small as if it’s shrinking. You begin to feel unpleasantly warm.

I’m making a scene. Oh my god. He’s going to notice.

“I umm, I-. Look, Michael. I think I’m going to go home.” You avert your eyes from him after making your request.

You cringe the moment the request slips out of your mouth. It’s crazy, you know it is, it’s your engagement party, leaving would not only seem strange but raise more questions than you care to answer. But you just wanted to go home. 

The environment of the party was suffocating, it was suffocating to be around Michael.

“Leave?” Michael questions. You don’t have to look up to know there's a look of confusion on his face, his tone says it all.

“I know it’s a bit early, but I really want to go home.” You say truthfully. “If that's fine with you, that is.” You add in a small whisper.

“No, no it’s fine.” Michael's face softens. “If you feel tired you should go home.” He sounds understanding, and its comforts you slightly.

“I’ll think of an excuse for your absence, but first let me get someone to drive you home, I would do it myself but we both can’t go missing.”

“What are you going to do by yourself?” You ask curiously as you rise from your chair preparing to leave. You feel partially guilty that you’re leaving Michael here alone, but you know it’s for the best until these feelings subside. You wonder if time apart will clear your head.

“I still have some people to talk to.” Michael stands up from his chair, he stretches before fixing his tie. Then he walks over to you, offering you his hand to help you up.

You smiled at him warmly and took his hand, uprooting yourself up from the chair. When you stood up he planted a small kiss on your cheek. It made your smile widen. It was your first genuine smile of the night.

You then looked at Michael, properly this time, taking in the features of his face. There were lines under his eyes, and his hair was a little ruffled. He was tired, very tired, and yet the smile on his face remained when he was around you, a smile of complete adoration. 

Surely a man who was using you wouldn’t look at you that way? Could he?

With that thought, you felt guilty. Perhaps you were overreacting, after all these thoughts had come from nowhere, how could you judge Michael purely based on thoughts?

Maybe I am overreacting?

Michael cleared his throat. “Besides I still have things to talk to your father about that are business related.” 

Upon hearing that the warmness of Michael’s previous gesture faded away, and the smile dropped from your face. You let go of Michael’s hand immediately. The thoughts came crashing in again at the mention of business and your father.

“You speak to my father a lot these days.” You said with a hint of irritation. The past feelings of sadness were replaced with those of slight anger. 

Michael hadn’t seemed to notice the sudden change in your tone. “I have to.” He shrugged. “We have a lot of business to discuss.” He tried to reach for your hand to hold it again. But you kept them firmly to your side.

Your brows furrowed into a glare. “Business, business, hmm.” You snapped. “It’s all my father and you ever talk about!” The last sentence was particularly icy.

This time Michael caught onto the increase of snark in your voice. He looked at you carefully, he was quiet as he assessed the sudden coldness emitting from you before choosing to speak again.

“I suppose so? Your family and mine are working together now, so it only makes sense…” Michael was sure to tread carefully with his words.

“And you know, after we get married it will only continue,” He added. 

Your eyes widened immediately, and your mouth fell open.

Oh no.

Michael’s words were practically an omission. In your mind, this was the nail in the coffin. The wave of sadness that hit you was immeasurable. Your worst fears had been confirmed. Michael was only marrying for your connections, he didn’t love you, and he never had. 

You didn’t feel the tears streaming down your face until the second one reached your chin. “So you don’t love me?” Your voice cracked.

“What?” The question caught Michael off guard, and so did the tears. He blinked. “Y/n?” This is something he clearly hadn’t anticipated.

You drew a quivering breath, clearing the air that had been trapped in the back of your throat, once it was released everything slipped out.

“How could I be so stupid?” You sobbed.

“I knew that this marriage was beneficial to your family, you have so much to benefit from this, but I never thought you would-!” You were crying at an abnormally loud level. Tears were streaming down your face as you got choked up on your words.

All the while Michael was in a state of shock. He froze momentarily, this fluctuation in emotions had been so random.

“I know what my father does for a living, I’m not stupid, I know his connections are desirable to many people, including you.” Your voice lowered suddenly. The sudden rush of hysteria you had was wearing off, now you were just filled with dejection, complete and utter dejection.

“I know you don’t feel the same I do.” You sniffed quietly. “How could you?”

“After all, I'm just a business venture, a contract… And yet.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh. “I still love you, even if I know you don’t love me.”

It was ironic, funny, almost tragic. You knew Michael wasn’t marrying you out of love or sincerity but you could never stop loving him.

You laughed again. “What am I even saying?” You felt as if you had been rambling incoherently, spewing utter nonsense for what felt like forever, but once you had started you couldn’t stop.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. You slumped back into the chair, burying your face into your hands.

Michael had been silent for most of your tirade, dropped to his knees beside you. The realization had hit him. The silence, the melancholy, the distance you had been putting between the both of you, and the reason behind it were all so clear now.

She thinks that I'm marrying her for her connections. 

He shook his head and exhaled. “Y/n.” He put his hand on your thigh, caressing it slowly. “I’m disappointed to hear that.” He said sadly.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed.

“No, no, no.” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. “I’m not disappointed in you.”

The disappointment Michael felt was not aimed at you but at himself. A deep shame wallowed in his chest after hearing your confession. He was ashamed that you felt that way, ashamed that he made you feel that way, and ashamed that he had failed to notice.

She thinks of herself as a business venture. Michael swallowed bitterly. His heart ran cold. His guts tangled into a knot. He felt sick. Michael’s mouth went dry as he analyzed you silently. A minute passed before he finally said something.

“Y/n will you please look at me.” He asked softly.

You shook your head, refusing to honor his request. You didn’t move an inch. You were too afraid to look up, deathly afraid to look at his face and whatever expression he had on. You wish he would just leave you to sob in the confines of his father’s office but you could still feel his presence by your chair and you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Michael sighed. He removed his hand from your thigh and placed it on your cheek. You shivered at his touch, but you still refused to look up.

“Do you really believe that I'm marrying you because of your father’s business connections?” Michael’s voice was at a whisper now.

“That’s why you’ve been so distant lately hmm?” He began to caress circles on your cheek. “You believe that I’m doing this strictly for business purposes.”

“And do you really believe that I don’t love you?” He said bitterly.

You cringed, slouching into your chair even more, you wished you could sink into the chaie and disappear. He sounded angry. You began to worry that this would lead to an argument, perhaps it hadn’t been the best to break down at this very moment.

But the next words from Michae’s mouth weren’t ones of anger in fact they sounded quite regretful.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m really sorry.” There was great despair in his voice. 

“I’ve made you feel as if you are nothing more than a trading piece.” Michael exhaled. He couldn’t remember a specific time or day he had behaved in a manner that made you feel less than, but he clearly had, and it had made you so insecure that you felt as if he didn’t love you.

“Y/n,” He said firmly. He knew he had to rectify the situation, he couldn’t have you believing that he didn’t love you. “My family business is important, but so are you.”

“I care about you.”

“I really do.”

He cares about me? You sniffed. 

The level of sincerity was enough to lull you out of your state, but not enough to entirely draw you out. You weren’t fully convinced. He cared about you but did he love you? Did he love you as you loved him? Or was he lying merely to appease you? 

Michael was a gentleman but being a businessman also meant he knew how to lie, and lie very well. You only hoped the latter was true. It had to be for your sake.

“You care about me?” You said slowly. Your face rose from your hands, you let out one final sniff, and exhaled, hoping to gain a bit of courage. “But do you love me?” You questioned. You had to know for sure.

“When we get married could you bring yourself to love me? And don’t lie to me.”

You felt your chest tighten as you looked at Michael who was still kneeling on the floor beside you. Your eyes met his, Michael’s eyes locked deeply into yours and you felt small under his gaze but you dared not to look away. Your breath hitched. You had never experienced a heart attack but you were sure this is what it felt like as you awaited his answer.

Michael examined you properly now as you sat up, you were still slightly hunched over in the chair and your hair was down, now ruffled and messy, it covered the right side of your face. Your eyes were puffy and red. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow across you, heightening the expression of anticipation on your face and the look of worry, as well as dread.

Then Michael finally spoke. “Y/n, I don’t have to bring myself to love you, because I already do, connections be damned.”

“I’ve loved you for so long, even before I asked  your father for your hand in marriage.” Michael took your hands from your lap and bought them up to his lips. He planted a small kiss on them.

You looked at Michael as your hands sat stalely in his. Michael held his breath as he watched you look into his eyes, he prayed that you would what you were looking for, what had always been there.

At that moment there was a mutual silence between the two of you. You searched Michael’s eyes for any hint of deceit or duplicity, you prowled for any signs that indicated he was lying, but you couldn’t find it. 

In his eyes lay nothing but awe and adoration for you. The look on his face was one of passion and honesty. This wasn’t the face of a man who was lying, this was the face of a man who loved you.

"You really do care for me?' You said quietly. The way the words rolled off your tongue sounded as if you were trying to speak a foreign language. You sounded as if you still couldn’t believe it.

"I do." Michael nodded. "And, once again, I’m sorry that I made you doubt my feelings for you.” He apologized again.

“You want to marry me?” You perked up a little, the warmth was returning to your chest, and your heart rate had begun to still. “You really want to marry me?” You asked again as you squeezed Michael’s hand.

Michael smiled. “Do you think I am the kind of man who would make a commitment to a woman for the rest of my life if I didn’t feel anything for her?” He brushed the hair out of your face and placed it behind your ear.

“Y/n, my feelings for you extend past any business venture,” Michael stated as he leaned and kissed your forehead.

You couldn’t help but crack a small.

Michael loved you.

Michael loved you!

“Can you say that again?” You requested gingerly.

Michael stopped kneeling on the floor and stood up. “Say what?” He questioned, looking down at you.

“That you love me? Please?”

The verbal declaration of Michael’s love for you had washed away all your doubts and lingering worries. Hearing him say three simple words left you feeling euphoric, it felt exhilarating. You wanted to hear him say it again.

“I love you.” Said, Michael. “I’ll say it a thousand more times if you wish.” He smiled.

You nodded. “Yes, do it again.”

“I love you,”

“I love you,”

“I love you.”

Each time he said it, a different wave of joy hit you. You wiped what was left of the tears from your eyes and stood up. You leaned into Michael, burying your face into his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

You felt safe in his arms, you felt happy, you felt loved. The feeling lasted all through the night, even when the both of you returned to the party and people asked why your eyes were so red. You didn’t really care though, Michael loved you, that’s all that mattered.

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

This story was an ungodly level of long and cringe.

Anyways hope you enjoyed it.

[apomaro-mellow]

Mafia Part 1

For the occasion, Eddie was given one of his dad's old suits. It didn't quite fit as well but it would have to do for now. He tied his hair up in a bun and put a hat on top of it. Wayne was dressed similarly and it was like this that they entered the Marini home. Eddie couldn't remember the entire reason everyone was gathering. Could've been a birthday party for all he knew. But being in the main house meant good drinks and a chance to rub elbows with the folks up top. Which obviously meant more money.

Wayne finally let the leash off to go and talk with some of the older guys and Eddie got to go off on his own. He sat with Tonio, a man shorter than him despite being ten years older and Swirly, who looked like a breeze could knock him over.

"Why do they call you Swirly?", Eddie asked.

"'Cause when I stab guys I like to flick my blade around. It's my own personal touch."

"'Personal touch'", Tonio laughed. "You're just a classic narcissist."

"It's art."

"It's ghoulish."

"You wanna talk narcissism...", Swirly trailed off as he took a sip of his drink.

Tonio whistled like a rock falling down a well. He must know who Swirly was talking about.

"Who?", Eddie asked, preferring to stay in the loop.

"The little prince", Tonio sneered.

"Steve Harrington. The boss' son", Swirly provided a better answer.

"Harrington, huh?", Eddie said, just meaning to get a feel for the name but the others must have thought he was asking another question.

"The last boss had a daughter, just an absolute peach of a dame", Tonio said. "But she went and fell for this outsider, Harrington."

"He'd done some deals with us, but he wasn't family", Swirly said. "Until he married into it."

Eddie nodded, getting the picture. "So Steve Harrington should've been Steve Marini?"

"He could've been Giuseppe Alessandro Italiano-Magnifico. Won't change him", Toni nearly snarled, starting to spoil the air with a bitter scent before reining himself in. Eddie was eager to find out how someone so high on this world's food chain had earned the disdain of one of his underlings.

Eddie moved around a bit. Tonio and Swirly were basically footmen. Always in the streets, rarely in the room where the big decisions were made. Eventually Eddie came to a circle of young men closer to his age. Young bucks who were also looking to rise up. Some of them were already related by blood, cousins and nephews. Others were like Eddie, boys down on their luck, doing little jobs here and there for the money. But when you gave to the family, there was always the chance that you could be brought into the fold.

You could be sponsored.

Eddie had heard of it. Heard it could be a grueling process depending on who was vouching for you and for what. Wayne had been sponsored a few years ago. It had been an odd time when he didn't see his uncle as much as he'd been used to. But by the end of it, Wayne was able to invoke the Marini name if need be.

It was power. It was respect. It was everything Eddie wanted. They were seated at a table outside in the backyard where they could be louder. As they were wont to do. Sometimes the conversation switched to Italian, which left Eddie in the dark, but before too long it was back to a tongue he knew.

They started talking about what they'd do to be sponsored and then it turned to what they wouldn't do.

"What if they ask you to be celibate?"

"They're not gonna ask that."

"I heard they made a guy cut off his knot."

"Get outta here!"

"Nah, it wasn't just the knot, it was his balls too."

"They don't want eunuchs!"

"An alpha's only good for his knot anyway."

"What's a beta good for then?"

"Fuck if I know."

That caused both raucous laughter and jeers from the betas in the crowed. And just because Eddie had to be a pot stirrer, he spoke up.

"What about omegas?", he smirked.

"They got holes, don't they?", one alpha said.

"Everybody needs a warm body", a beta answered.

"If they're the right omega they can set you on easy street", another alpha, answered. He'd introduced himself as Tommy. Hagan, not to be confused with Tommy Corns who got caught holding up a pharmacy last year.

"The 'right omega' meaning your omega?", another guy piped up.

"He ain't Tommy's yet. He's still gotta woo him", a different one cackled.

"Aww, you sweet on someone Tommy-boy?", Eddie jabbed.

"I'm not sweet on anyone. Just got my target locked."

"On?", Eddie pressed.

"Who else but the best? Pretty soon, you'll all be calling me 'boss'", Tommy looked so sure of himself.

Ah, so he was after the cream of the crop. Eddie wondered how many of these guys were after Steve. Probably not many if Tommy was openly gunning for him.

Wayne found him and put an arm around his shoulders as he brought him back into the house. "There's someone I want you to meet. Mind yourself and don't get any ideas."

“What? Me? Ideas?”, he grinned cheekily.

“I mean it. We’re here to do our jobs and keep our heads down.”

Wayne brought him before a man in his late forties, thick, dark hair, graying around the edges. Next to him was a young man. Both were dressed in perfectly tailored suits. For a second, Eddie thought that he was being brought before a fellow associate. But he quickly realized these two were far above that. Especially with the way Wayne deferred to them.

Eddie was so caught by a scent that he almost missed what was happening. Lavendar and pine, wafting around him in a way that reminded him of freshly laundered linens.

It was during introductions that he realized. This was the omega everyone was talking about. Steve Harrington.

And he was looking at Eddie like he was a stray dog.

Steve looked him up and down. “You’re the Munson boy?”

“Sweetheart, I think I’ve got a few years on you to be called ‘boy’.” Eddie hissed when that remark earned him a pop on the head from Wayne.

“Please forgive my nephew. He’s not around polite company often.”

“If he’s yours Wayne, I’m not worried”, Harrington Sr. said. “I know in time he’ll prove himself to be loyal and a worthy addition to the business.”

While the older men talked, Eddie’s eyes were glued to Steve’s, who in turn hadn’t looked away from him yet. There was something behind those eyes and Eddie wanted to find out what it was. Eddie knew what it was like when people looked down at you. Steve was doing that, sure, but it was more than that.

It was almost like he expected something to happen. If Eddie were more bold, he would have made another comment. But he wouldn't dare do so in front of such a powerful man. Steve's father, James, could have had him killed with just an order. He wasn't about to antagonize his only shot at a not-shit life.

Eddie would have done so if he could've gotten to Steve one-on-one. But after that little meet and greet, Eddie was taken to talk to other men. And every glimpse of Steve he got, he was glued to his father's side.

Little prince indeed.

Part 3

[eneablack]

I SHIFTED TO HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA

before the shift:

i watched hotel transylvania 4 with my cousin and my mind instantly went “i love these movies i really gotta shift there, it would be so cool” and i went to sleep making scenarios of me in that reality without actually trying or putting effort (mind that i had a script for that reality made like a year ago but i forgot about that so i just went into the shift while basically being blindfolded lol) but i mean, it worked.

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

the shift:

i didn’t realise i shifted till like one hour later, i woke up in my supposedly room and the walls were a darker shade with bricks/stones, as i said i didn’t notice the change because it was just normal to be there so i just went to change in some clothes and get ready to go downstairs. then i went to the dining hall and had breakfast with a friend called Victor (he’s not in the movies) and my sister Mavis (she’s my twin sister actually, we look a lot like each other but the difference is that she’s a girl with black hair and i’m a boy with white hair lol). after that i went back to my room and did my daily tarot reading, and when i was reading my cards that’s when i realised i had shifted (tarot cards are not like in this reality, they tell you way more and are like magical if you’re a witch).

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

some facts about that reality:

my name was Aineías Dracula and i was a half vampire half witch, son of Count Dracula and Martha Dracula (she was half witch too)

it was the 18th november 1840 when i shifted there so two days before my birthday (i apparently had to become 120 years old)

for some reason the hotel was in italy (where i live in cr)

i was friends with everyone in the hotel because, contrary to cr, i made my presence very seen and had good social skills. i had a best friend called Victor and he was the son of Frankenstein, he was around my age and he was very tall.

︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶꒦꒷꒷꒦︶

the young man i met:

the night of my birthday, the 20th, i sneaked out and went to a little village some kilometres away from the hotel, and there i met a boy. i was trying to fit in with the few humans that were there, even if i was lowkey scared but mostly excited, and i stumbled across this goldsmith shop. it had such amazing pieces of jewellery so i was with my palm all over the glass trying to get a closer look at a ruby necklace. but then i heard a gentle low voice telling me to step away from the glass and when i look over the dispay window i see this young man looking at me, so i excused myself but he asked something like if i was interested in any of the pieces and stood up to come closer to me.

i was unsure whether to stay there as my dad would’ve killed me if he found out, but i felt adrenaline at that moment and tbh the boy looked nice and genuine so i just stayed still and nodded, so he started showing me different necklaces with some beautiful stones. i was really interested in the ruby one but then i remembered i didn’t have anything to pay with, so i was about to leave when he asked if i wasn’t from there, and then we just started conversating.

he was named Ilya and he was a human of course, he told me he was half russian and had to migrate because of some illness infestation and his dad was italian so they moved here. he was around 24 years old and he had jet black long hair, with very dark eyes.

after some time i had to go back and as i was going he told me he could not give me the nacklace for free even if it was my birthday lol but instead i could decide for a small stone, but i didn’t really knew which one to choose so when i just let him decide he gave me a small malachite telling me it was my birthstone and it was his favourite when he was back in russia. then we said goodbye and that was it.

[shelbgrey]

Dating Derek Shepherd Headcanons(remastered)

Paring: Derek Shepherd x Reader

Summary: headcanons about being Meredith Grey's cousin and dating McDreamy. -SMUT warning!

💙MasterList ML2 💙Dating Moodboard

Your story starts at a coffee shop, sounds simple but your interaction really wasn't. You first met Derek a few months before your internship at the hospital. You just moved to Seattle with your cousin Meredith Grey and your meeting with Derek was totally unexpected but you'll never forget it.

Now, as weird or stereotypical it may sound it was love at first sight to Derek. You were there by yourself studying a medical book and Derek just happened to be walking by and saw you in the window.

He literally stopped when he saw you.

He wanted to talk to you so bad but he chickened out at first. In his eyes you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You were right there and he finally worked up the courage to talk to you.

“Why would an amazing woman like you even talk to someone like me? That was the first thing he'd ever said to you and the words that fell from his mouth surprised you both.

you but you couldn't help but blush at his boldness.“Why not?”

The both of you talked into the day. You brought up that you were starting your intern year and he brought up he was a nero attending. Surprisingly you both failed to mention what hospital you were working at.

He was the first person to actually ask what you wanted to do in the medical field. To you it always felt like an unspoken rule that you and Meredith would become general Surgeons, that's not what you wanted and for some reason when he asked that you felt you could trust him.

“no one's ever asked me that before”

“well, I am” Derek smiled sencerly.

“I thought about Peds or Truama as my specialty”

He was pretty much smitten by you from the start. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you and for you a guy has never looked at you the way he did. It made you blush and feel things you never felt before.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you asked blushing.

“because your beautiful”

It was like he was something out of a romance book.

Even though it was the best conversation you had in a long time you unfortunately had to leave and meet Meredith some where. Derek wasn't about to let you go just yet so he offered to walk you to where you had to meet Meredith.

Then he asked for your number. It just felt too good to be true when it came to him, so you decided to mess with him a little bit. “you could be a masked murderer for all I know”

He would just chuckle and not take it personally. “there's always that possibility... Come on live a little”

You gave in with a loving heart. You wrote your number and drew a heart on a sticky note then stuck to his chest where his heart was.

Your first date was simple but romantic. You told him you weren't into anything too extravagant, so you went to a nice Italian restaurant and you talked the whole hole time.

You talked about anything and everything. Favorite movies, favorite childhood memories. You talked about why you guys became doctors, but failed to mention you both would be working at Seattle Grace Hospital.

Communication won't be a problem in your relationship. You both just find it so easy to talk to each other.

Later that night you went to your place and watched a movie. You almost kissed, but you made a rule not to kiss on the first date. Derek respected that and didn't have a problem waiting for you.

But you couldn't help it, your first kiss happened on the fourth date. You were at the movies and you couldn't help but lean into each other. The kiss was passionate and sweet. He held you and treated you like you were the only girl in the world.

The way he kisses you makes your heart race. He holds your face in his hands and you honestly feel like you and him are the only things that matter in the world.

He never felt this way with anyone, not even Addison.

You guys were dating for about a month before you started your internship at the hospital. You were suprised when Dr. Bailey asinged you to be on his service, you didn't even know he was an Attending there.

When you saw him you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into an on-call room. “so you work here?”

He smirked. “yeah and so do you apparently”

Even though your relationship was growing stronger by the minute and it was going at a pace you both were comfortable with, you were worried about the fact you were an intern and he was an Attending.

You explained this, but he wasn't worried he just stared at you like a love sick puppy the whole time you talked. You sighed. “stop looking at me like that”

“like what? Like your the most beautiful woman in the world” he clicked his tough and shrugged with a stupid, adorable smirk. “sorry, I can't just not do that”

So you powered through it and ignored the whispers and honestly it made you two stronger as a couple.

You have an old black Labrador that is your protector and shadow. He didn't like Derek at first. Your dog Duke would stare him down every time he came over to the house, grumble at him and make sure to sleep on Derek's side of the bed, and he will shove his way between you if Derek was hugging you.

“there's this old soul that's just really hates my guts”

After a while Duke dose warm up to him and the two become quite close. If he works the night shift he'll pet Duke before he leaves and tells the dog to take care of you while he's gone. “take care of her buddy”

Your a Peds surgeon, you always look forward to having surgeries with him if the patient needs him.

You steal his ferry boat scrub cap all the time. You'd just get done with a surgery wearing it and when you come out of the OR you'd see Derek leaning against the wall with his arms crossed waiting for you. “I was looking for that... I didn't have it during my surgery”

You'd just shrugged and give him a cute smile. “but I love this one”

“your lucky you look cute in it”

He is your biggest supporter. Derek is your absolute number #1 fan, everything you do amazes him. You've never had a man supporting and encouraging you every day and night.

He's big on hand holding too, if your walking around the city your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had if your setting down at a table or something.

This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.

“cuddle me?” he asked, giving you puppy eyes and holding his arms open. You smiled and cuddle up to his chest.

Your always resuring him that your always gonna be by his side. With that I think he's secretary insecure, Addison cheating on him really did a number on him. He trusts you, 100% but deep down he has this fear you'd find someone better.

You always tell him he's the only one for you and you love him “your so Handsome, have I ever told you that?”

“Yes dear, so many times” he smiled.

He leaves post-it notes all around the house for you. You find them everywhere. In your bag, the book your reading at the time. On top of your favourite cup. Stuck onto the mirror in the bathroom, if he has to get up and go to the hospital late into the night heal leave one on his pillow. He loves those little details. Loves to write you silly or romantic notes because he knows how much you love them.

Your Favorite one he ever wrote was, 'If I were to kiss you and then go to hell I would, so then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without even entering it.'

You've kept every single note he's writin you.

He's so flirty with you. No matter how many years you've been together, he still thinks you're the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He'll learn quickly your a book warm. Sometimes if your reading and not giving him any attention he'll wedge his way between you and the book, resting his head on your chest.

Like I said, he flirts with you so much. Some times he'll come up behind you while your working and whispere suggestive comment in your ear or grab your ass.

Watching old Universal monster movies together and the show The Munsters.

If it's a smut book you get really secretive about and he'll notice quickly. “What you reading?” you blush and hold the book away from him. “nothing”

If he gets a hold of the book and reads a steamy part if the book he'd want to try everything he read with you.

Your hospital 'nickname' would probably be bookworm, but then after you and derek get married it'll be Lady Shepherd. Mark will tease you sometimes and call you McWife.

Speaking of which you and Mark become pretty good friends surprisingly. It'll scare Derek at first and in the back of his mind he'll have this fear of Mark sleeping with you.

“I'm not gonna lie she's beautiful... But I promise I won't do that to you ever again” Mark said to Derek.

Even if you're good friends with Mark he's not your person. Callie is your person and later on you become close to April and kinda become her guard dog.

When you fight you both always feel guilty. It hurts Derek seeing you so said. What makes it worse for him is when he's the reason for your pain. He's always the first to apologize. He hold you from behind, whispering he's sorry over and over.

“don't McDreamy me”

“McDreamy is being a McAss”

He drives like a maniac. Plain and simple. “Jesus Christ, Derek, we Are Not on a race track, why Are You Going so Fast?!!?!?”

He's a car guy. Old classic cars, muscle cars, race cars, anything. You don't really care for cars except for the iconic ones in movies or TV shows. “you just want a 67 impala because it's in 'Supernatural”

He may tease you about it, but he'd definitely try and find one for you. He's got that neurosurgeon money, so he can afford it😂

You guys play 'slug bug' or 'punch buggy'(whatever you call it), but he changes the rules a lot. “it's a water cooled one, it don't count”

“Yes it does!” you sighed and punched his shoulder again.

And don't even think about putting your feet on the dash of his car. “if we get in wreak your gonna go threw the windshield... And your gonna mess up the dash, get your feet down”

If you make him a bracelet he's never taking it off. You both probably have matching bracelets made of paracord or beads.

Your Song is 'you took the words right out of my mouth' by Meatloaf.

Ferry boat rides all the time. Sometimes just to get to work or maybe it'll be for a small date.

You definitely screw on one though...

God, this man loves everything about you. You have a couple of tattoos, he wants to know about them. It doesn't matter what type of hair you have or if you like it or not, he loves it. He'll love your voice, body, personality... Everything.

It won't take him long to open up to you about what happened to his father and how he felt about Amilea's drug addiction.

He wishes his dad got to meet you. “he would have loved you”

Now, his mom loves you. She thinks you balance Derek out quite well. She was a little concerned ablut the age gap at first, but she quickly found out you and derek love each other more than anything.

After the hospital shooting his mom will call you and check on you after she knows for certain Derek's okay. Her husband was shot and killed, so she wanted call you and check on you since you almost lost Derek the same way she lost her husband.

Now all of his sisters, aside from Liz hates you. It breaks Derek's heart. Nancy really doesn't like you and for no apparent reason too. It pissed Derek off so much when Nancy kept calling you a 'sluty intern` when she first met her.

“she's not sluty! She's beautiful, Smart. She has a heart of gold... You nothing about her, not a damn thing. You don't know the things that damn hospital says about her just because we we're together, you don't know the fact she's been through so much she only feels safe in my arms. She keeps get pushed down, but some how she gets back up still smiling.... Don't you ever call her Sluty again”

He's a family man and deserves one. When Alex did the medical project with the kids from Africa you and derek get assigned to a orphaned 6 year old boy named Atticus. He was of Asian decent and no one knew how he ended up with the group.

Neither one of you cold explain it, but you guys just knew he was your kid. You and derek were the only two he trust and once all his medical stuff was settled you adopted him.

Later on you two have twins. One boy named Jason and a daughter named Charlotte. They both look like Derek, but have your eyes.

He can be a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

He's soft with you. He's so gentle and delicate and you can tell through the way he brushes your hair from your face or the way he nuzzles his face into your neck that he just absolutely adores you.

If your in bed he'll always have his arms around you. Rather your the little spoon or your on his chest. But sometimes if his day is rough he'd want to lay his head on your chest. His favorite feeling in the world is your arms around him and your fingers running through his hair.

He absolutely loves feeling your fingers run through his hair. He'll kill to have his head on your cheat while you play with his hair after a rough day at the hospital.

He can turn you on so easily, one look and you know to head into a spare on-call room.

NSFW headcanons:

He's that perfect mixture of slow and passionate but when you've had a stressful day and you need a little bit harder, a little rougher he will provide.

If he's had a rough day, he either needs one of two things. A rough fuck or he needs to curl up beside you and rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

He's a boob man, He’ll push your bra up and take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls all around while he squeezes your hips.

He'll bury his face into your boobs as he pounds into you. He loves it when you start moaning and tugging at his hair, He honestly can’t get enough.

he loves grabbing you by the hips, literally squeezing his fingertips against your soft skin, holding you in the place or using them to help guide the pace.

He probably knows your body better than you do. He knows every single one of your ticks.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

He didn't realize how much he actually liked it untill you started pulling on his hair while he was eating you out. “Damn... Do that again... Please”

He love getting head. He loves having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Bondeg kink, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything.

He needs to be in control....

He loves missionary, keeping eye contact while he fucks you. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.

He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.

If you try to hold back your noises or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

But he also lives for the moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.

He definitely has a Praise kink, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush.

“God, your so beautiful”

He's very skilled with his tounge, he loves eating you out. your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.

Has a soft spot for sex in the shower, he loves holding you up against the wall, roughly while he drives his cock into you.

If you want to take a shower and get cleaned up, Derek will lift you up in his arms and carry you to shower, he'll hold you safe and will be extremely gentle with your sensitive body.

Dispite him being mostly rough in bed and pushes you to the point of screaming, he'll be so soft and gentle in the end. “you did so good for my baby, I wasn’t too rough was I?”

He's very attentive when it comes to aftercare. you want a warm bath? Done. You want massages? Done. You ask, he delivers. All he cares about is your comfort, he insists on cleaning up any mess that's on you or the bed. If he sees any marks or bruises he will apologize for that with a soft smile on his face.

[fics-n-stuff]

Steve walked into the Munson trailer one day to find Eddie in the kitchen singing, lightly headbanging along to the accompanying instrumental that was playing in his head while he washed the dishes. This was not unusual. What was unusual was that Eddie was not singing in English.

Steve shut the trailer door slowly and quietly so as not to catch Eddie's attention, and slowly moved forward while listening to Eddie sing. He didn't want to interrupt yet.

A couple of minutes passed before Eddie turned and noticed Steve. He jumped, letting out a small yelp, which made Steve chuckle.

"Jesus, Harrington! How long have you been there?"

"A couple minutes."

"And you didn't think of saying anything?"

"I was trying to figure out what language you were singing in."

"Oh." Eddie grabbed a tea towel to wipe his hands on. "It was Danish."

"You speak Danish?" Steve asked in disbelief. Eddie nodded casually.

"Yeah, my mom was Danish." He shrugged. He dropped the towel and sauntered over to Steve, draping his arms over his shoulders before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Did I never tell you that?"

"No, you never told me that. You're Danish?"

"Yeah." Eddie laughed. "I know I don't really look it. You know, dark hair and dark eyes aren't really the expected viking features. Unfortunately I look more like my dad. But my hair was lighter when I was a kid."

"You speak Danish?" Steve's brain was still catching up with all this new information.

"En lille smule." Eddie grinned. "Min mor talte dansk tilt mig."¹

"I don't know what you said but that was really hot." Steve muttered. Eddie laughed. "So what was that song you were singing?"

"Me and my cousin in Denmark write letters to each other. He sent me a tape with some music he thought I'd like and one of the songs got stuck in my head."

"Will you teach me some Danish?"

"Selvfølgelig!"² Eddie's face lit up. "Nobody's ever cared that I was Danish before. A lot of people literally didn't even know that Denmark is a country."

"I think it's really cool. I wish my mom had taught me Italian, I only know the things my nonna always said, which is mostly swears and insults."

"Hey, that's useful stuff. That means you can shit talk people without them knowing what you said."

"Yeah but it would be nice to have a functioning knowledge of the language too." Steve shrugged.

"Det er ikke så fantastisk."³ Eddie said with a shake of his head, though his lips were quirked up in a smile. "There isn't really much point when nobody else understands."

"Except that being bilingual is hot." Steve smiled.

"Er det rigtigt?"⁴ Eddie exclaimed amusedly, grinning again. He leaned in to press another kiss to Steve's lips, longer and more tender. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Steve's, letting out a tiny contented sigh. "Jeg elsker dig."⁵

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

I just came back from visiting family in Denmark and I had the idea of Scandinavian Eddie so here's a teensy tiny ficlet. I was gonna make him Norwegian because Norway is more known for their metal music than Denmark, but I don't speak Norwegian so I felt uncomfortable writing any Nowegian sentences. I don't really speak Danish either but I could at least kinda know what I was writing, and I kept it pretty simple so almost all of it is stuff I know anyway. 💕

Translations:

¹"A little bit." "My mum spoke Danish to me."

²"Of course!"

³"It's not that great."

⁴"Is that right?"

⁵"I love you."

[forthegothicheroine]

@gehayi said: can you please tell us more about Israel Rank?

POV: We are at a slumber party and I am kicking my feet and giggling and telling you about the boy I like.

"Oh my god, his name is Israel Rank, and he's from a book called Israel Rank: Autobiography of a Criminal, and he is so hot! The musical A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and the movie Kind Hearts and Coronets were both based on the book, but they made him other things besides Jewish, which is so bogus. Roger Ebert said it made the story more 'universal', which I guess means half-Italian is more universal than half-Jewish, which, what the fuck?

Anyway, he's the worst person in the world and I love him. He's like Heathcliff plus Steerpike plus Edmund the Bastard. He's the really distant relative of and earl, and his mother was disinherited for marrying a Jewish man. Israel isn't technically Jewish, he was baptized and raised Anglican, but he looks Jewish- and also really hot, and he says that combination upsets people! Kind of an Adrian Brody thing? I would have cast Ezra Miller before they turned out to be a shitshow of a person. And his name is Israel, kind of as a fuck you to mom's family. So he decides if people are going to give him shit about it anyway, he's going to embrace it.

He's in love with this girl Sibella, who won't marry him because he's both half-Jewish and poor, so starting as a hypothetical lark he wonders if he could just murder every single family member between him and an earldom. And then he does it! After sexual fantasies about Lucrezia Borgia encouraging him to! What an absolute freak.

So he starts killing, and his narration is so dry and funny about it. He tells the reader that in his experience, Jews aren't all that violent- he speculates that Shylock would have walked back the pound of flesh if he'd had time to calm down- but he has the blood of evil rapacious noblemen on his non-Jewish side which are to blame. He kills most of his family, except for the cousin-in-law whom he marries. He also still love Sibella. And his wife! He just can't stop fucking, he's so awful! (And I think he's bisexual. At least, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret the part where he's in school and "the boy I loved chose me as his Jonathan.")

And he gets away with it! He's super popular at his trial because he's so handsome and charming and the same society that scorned him, now that he's an earl, gossips that his Jewish ancestry must be very slight and distant. And there's a twist that gets him off the hook which is actually a real bummer of a plot point, even he's bummed out by it, but it's such a perfect capper to a life of cruelty.

Honestly, I do get why none of the adaptations keep the half-Jewish thing, they're probably afraid it would seem antisemitic, but in my opinion it's a real shame because it's so central to his character and I think I do want a sexy Jewish Byronic antihero. He's the worst. I love him. I would marry him. I would immediately divorce him. His favorite book is Emma!"

For a more academic discussion, I did a podcast episode on him way back when!

[daisyblog]

Trust

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry take the next step in their relationship. Warning: protected sex, first-time sex

They are celebrating Harry’s 18th birthday in Holmes Chapel with all his family, where they would be staying for the weekend while Harry had a break from touring. They had already celebrated with all his friends as he arranged a huge party earlier this week. They all went to an Italian restaurant that YN had learnt was a favourite of the Styles family. As well as Harry’s Mum, Stepfather and sister, Gemma, Harry’s uncle, auntie, and cousins joined. As they sat at the long table, Harry's Auntie had asked how LA was, as the band had just returned. “Yeah..it was so much fun, we couldn’t believe how many people knew who we were." Harry explained. “Nice to be home though?". “Yeah…it’s nice to have Mum running around after me.” Harry joked, making Anne roll her eyes playfully. “It’s okay YN..I made him tidy up his room before you arrived today…honestly you should have seen it” Anne spoke from her seat opposite Harry and YN. “Aww it’s okay…I’ve lived with Louis all my life..nobody can be as messy as him.”. YN attempted to joke about how disorganised her brother is. “He’s the messiest one of the band…you should see his bed on the bus…literally just full of random stuff” Harry described. “That’s what his bedroom looked like.”. YN added, agreeing with Harry. “I bet you miss him YN.” Harry’s Auntie spoke again. “Yeah I do so much…I suppose I’m lucky though having four sisters so me house is still crazy." YN laughed. Conversation flowed for the rest of the time at the restaurant, YN chatted with Gemma and Ella, Harry’s cousin, about hair, fashion and makeup. Harry and his two cousins were talking about football and trying to arrange a time when they could go and watch Manchester United play. Before travelling back to Harry’s childhood home, everyone hugged everybody goodbye and a ‘hopefully see you soon’.

Once they arrived at Anne’s house, Harry and YN changed into comfier clothes, YN opting for a pair of pyjama shorts and one of Harry’s hoodies and Harry changed into shorts and a plain t-shirt.

After sitting in the lounge chatting, drinking tea, and watching a movie with Anne, Robin and Gemma, everyone decided they were ready for bed and called it a night. After brushing her teeth and wishing everyone goodnight, YN made herself comfy in Harry’s large double bed. After a few minutes, Harry appears in the room, closes the door behind him, and takes off his t-shirt and shorts, leaving him in a black pair of Calvin Klein’s. “You comfy there babe?” Harry laughed as YN was tucked into his duvet and pillows, with just her head popping out at the top. “Very…now get your ass in here with me.”

Harry pulled the duvet open and slid in next to her .”Come here.” he hinted for her to lay her head on his shoulder so he could wrap his arm around YN's shoulder. “It’s so nice to have you home…even if it is for a little bit.” YN admitted, as she reached up to play with the curls near his neck. “I missed you so much.” he spoke as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I even thought about cuddling up with one of the boys to fall asleep.” he joked. YN moved her hand from his curls up to his cheek and cupped it gently. “I missed you more”, she whispered as he lowered his head to the crook of her neck and grazed his nose up along her jaw. At the feeling, YN's eyes closed voluntarily and as his lips reached hers, she tilted her chin slightly. As their lips meet, YN can feel herself melt into his arms as he brings his hand up to cup her cheek.

Their lips stayed as one, not wanting to break apart. Harry's hand that once held YN's cheek roamed down her body and lifted her leg so it hooked over his hip and his hand found its way to hold her bum. As their lips got ahead of themselves, they parted briefly and caught their breaths. “Do you want to stop?” Harry broke the silence and not wanting to cross any boundaries too soon. “I-I…no..but I haven’t..you know before.”. YN nervously stuttered, aware of how vulnerable she was in this moment. “It’s okay…we can stop if you want to” Harry reassured YN, not wanting to pressure her into anything she wasn't comfortable with. “No..I want to..I’m just nervous.”. “We can take it slow…and if you change your mind we’ll stop okay?”. Harry sympathised and pecked her lips in a quick motion, as YN nodded her head, grateful for Harry not putting pressure on her. Their lips met again and Harry’s hand found her bum, and as time passed he began to squeeze and pull at the skin covered by her shorts. Harry rolled from his position so he was hovering over her and began to slowly lift YN up so she was sitting. Harry held the hem of his jumper covering YN's body and asked if he could take it off. As he pulled it over her head, YN couldn’t help but feel conscious about her body.

It was like Harry had read her mind. “You’re so beautiful”, Harry whispered, before reaching down to pull YN's shorts and underwear down her legs. Nerves were forming in YN's stomach, not knowing what to expect or how to feel. He hovered his body over hers again, his face in line with YN's. “You okay..do you still want to?”. Harry continued to make sure YN was happy. “Yeah..I’m okay”. YN said with a slight shake in her voice. “I-is it okay..if I..um touch you first..you know to get you relaxed so it won’t be as painful.”. Harry reluctantly asked. To which YN nodded her head to let him know she was okay with it. Harry's lips found YN's, and they moved together in a slow and sensual motion. After a few moments, YN felt his hand move from her cheek down, over her breast, lingering around her hips and then slowly reaching down until he stopped when he found his destination. YN gasped at the sudden feeling of his fingers touching the spot. His fingers circled the area in a slow but steady motion, whilst his lips left wet kisses on her neck.

YN's hand found its place in his curls and as his fingers circled, YN's hand would tug slightly making him grunt. As time went on, his fingers travelled down where YN felt him carefully push two into her, making her tense and push her hips into the mattress underneath them, from the new sensation. “You okay?” he checked. “Yeah I’m okay”. YN once again reassured Harry that she was okay and he could continue, and realising how difficult this was for him too. Slowly as he could, Harry moved his fingers in and out and then moved back to the sensitive spot and switched from one movement to the other. Once Harry was satisfied with YN's excitement and thought she was less tense, he moved back up to hover above her and reached over to the draw sitting beside the bed and picked out a foil packet. “You still sure, you want to do this?”. “Y-yeah..I trust you”. YN nautically gulped, as she realised this was actually happening. Harry got up from his position and rolled his boxers down, so he was now completely bare, making YN take in the view in front of her. He opened the foil packet easily and threw the wrapper to the side and YN watched as he slid it down his length. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered above her. Harry's lips found YN's once more and they moved together in a needier and lustful way.

YN could feel Harry’s hand move from her cheek and slid in between them as he lines himself up to her entrance. YN takes a deep breath at the new sensation. The seconds feel like minutes, but he finally pushes himself forward and his tip slips in and YN couldn’t help but stiffen at the feeling. Harry pauses to check on her once again and YN nods her head to let him know to carry on. The further he pushes himself in, so YN's eyes shut tighter as the pressure increase and the pain appears. YN didn’t realise she was holding her breath until she hears Harry’s voice “Baby..breathe”. Harry's movements were slow and YN could tell how painful this was for him too, from his shaky breath as he held himself back. YN reached up to cup his face and bring his lips to hers. YN needed something to distract her from the pain, and Harry’s lips were the thing to do that. YN felt his hips meet hers as he kisses her with passion, and he slowly pulls out and thrusts his hips to meet hers again. Without realising a whimper leaves YN's lips at the movement and Harry hushes her lovingly and whispers “You’re okay..just keep breathing..you’re doing so well baby”, and leaves small lingering pecks up her neck.

His movements were gentle, almost like he thought he was going to break her. Low, grunts and moans were leaving his lips every time his hips met YN's, and she knew it was killing him not being able to move faster. When his thrusts become sloppier and his lips were no longer on hers, YN looked directly at him and the sight in front of her was breathtaking. His eyebrows frowned with concentration and his lips parted as he left out soft shaky breaths. YN's hand moved to gently touch his cheek and the words fell out of her mouth for the first time “I love you”. “I-I love..you too..baby..so much” Harry's out of breath voice spoke.

A moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and pressed his hips against YN's and slowly he let go of what he was holding back on “Uhhh…fuck..I’m comin’”. After collapsing his body on hers and smiling down at YN and leaving a kiss on her mouth, he pushed himself up and pulled out of her and removed the condom from his length.

As Harry moved around the room, YN felt cold and almost weak. Harry announced he was going to the bathroom to clean himself up, and picked up his boxers from the floor to put them back on before leaving the room. Whilst he was gone, YN slid her shorts back up her legs and Harry’s hoodie over her head and snuggled herself back under the duvet and against the fluffy soft pillow, trying to ignore the dull ache between her legs.

Harry returned and YN noticed two blue mugs in his hands. “I’ve made us some tea..I thought it would help you a bit”. He placed the mugs down on the side table next to the bed and he climbed in next to YN, like routine his arms slipped around her and held her in his arms as her head found his chest. “I love you forever.”. “I love you always”.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney

[the-guilty-writer]

Damaged

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: After twenty years, Rossi-Reid learns why her father stopped putting up the Christmas Tree.

A/N: This is basically a rewrite of S3E14 “Damaged”. I wanted to include it since it’s such an important part of Rossi’s arc and other significant events (even if only snippets are shown) happen during this episode.

CW: So many Rossi-Reid feelings, Hotch getting a divorce, regular crminal minds violence, talks about santa not being real

---

“Spencer!” you called. “You’re going to be late!” You packed a snack in a small tupperware container and stuck it in his satchel. 

He walked out of the bedroom, tucking in his shirt and striding forward at the same time. You looked over at him and made a face. “What?” he asked. “Is it my hair? I was thinking it looked a little long this morning-”

“It’s not your hair, Spence.” You smiled. “Your hair is wonderful as always. It’s just, you and Hotch are going to do that interview tomorrow at the prison.”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and put the strap over his shoulder. “When you say it like that it sounds like we’re competing to see who gets to be the last inmate at a luxury detention facility. They’d pick me off my hairstyle alone.”

You couldn’t help but giggle just a bit. Spencer had recently acquired a rather new-found confidence and you loved it. “You’re wearing a tie,” you said.

“I wear ties all the time,” he retorted.

“Yes, but you’re going to be in a room with a killer and I’d rather not get a call that you were strangled,” you admitted.

Spencer knew that even though your tone was joking, you were actually rather serious. Behind your humorous exterior you harbored fear. As you turned from unlocking the apartment door to walk him out, he took you by the waist and pulled you into a kiss.

The older the two of your got and the longer you were married the more your kisses had evolved, and the more you understood what each type of kiss ment: there were the soft ones that lingered before you went to sleep or before the two of you parted which was a simple and strong “I love you”. There were the feather-light ones used for teasing and deep, all consuming ones for passion. There were ones on foreheads and knuckles for comfort and rare pecks on cheeks in public just to show you were marito and moglie- staking your claim on one another for the world to see. But recently you and Spencer had developed a new type of kiss- one that was deep and full, that caused a feeling to spread through your whole body as if you were being engulfed in Spencer while the rest of the world just faded away. It was different than a kiss of devouring lust or everlasting love- it was a kiss that knitted the fabric of your souls together for a few sweet seconds of eternity.

This new kiss was by far your favorite, and it seemed to be Spencer’s too.

“You’re going to be late,” you whispered.

Spencer purposefully tilted his head so his nose touched yours ever so slightly. The intimacy of delicate touches drove you crazy and he knew it.

“I should probably get going then,” he murmured.

“You probably should.”

You had to be the one to pull away, taking Spencer’s hand from your hip to intertwine it with your own. The two of you would hold hands until you exited the apartment building, and then you’d have to let go and wave goodbye to him as he climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV with Hotch.

Delicacy would have to wait.

---

You weren’t used to sleeping alone. With Spencer’s absence you found yourself seeking companionship and headed to work particularly early only to find yourself in an empty bullpen for the majority of the morning.

Growing up, your house had always been rather empty and lonely, and something about your Italian heritage made you long to go back to your grandparents' home country to live in a family house full of aunts and uncles and cousins. You wished for a house that was loud and never stopped moving. You wished for a family that never left you alone. Then you got old enough that your dad could bring you to the BAU after school and on weekends that he had to work. Suddenly you had everything you wished for- aunts that baked you cookies and scolded you for running in the halls, uncles that paid you a quarter to bring their reports to other departments so they didn’t have to, and eventually a brother; the young agent Hotchner who was trying to get on your dad’s good side. The BAU was the only true home had ever known, and you couldn’t stand to feel like your home was empty.

That’s how you ended up in JJ’s office that morning, sitting in the corner chair working on files while she went through her own manila folders. At some point, Garcia burst into the office and began to pace, but you didn’t really pay attention to what she was saying until you heard your own name.

“-Rossi showed up at my door in the middle of the night while I was enjoying a post-coital shower with fellow FBI technical analyst Kevin Lynch?”

You and JJ both looked up at Garcia, and then at one another.

“Sit,” JJ said to Garcia. You put your work on the chair and went to perch on the corner of JJ’s desk. You weren’t sure what was more intriguing about the whole thing- the fact that Garcia was in the shower with some guy, or that your dad had shown up at her apartment in the middle of the night.

No, you were definitely more interested in the guy.

“I need your help.” Garcia looked between the two of you.

“With what?” JJ asked.

“Agent Rossi,” Garcia said, concerned. “We're not supposed to date fellow bureau employees.”

“From what I hear, Rossi is the reason most of these fraternization rules even exist, okay?” JJ said.

“Oh, he is,” you confirmed with a smirk. “And it’s not like they even enforce those rules… I mean, Spencer and I got married and both of us still work here.”

“He's not gonna tell anyone,” JJ tried to ease Garcia’s nerves. “Just relax.”

“What was my dad doing at your apartment?” you inquired as casually as possible, hoping Garcia would spill.

“That's a good-” Garcia stopped herself. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”

Now you were even more curious.

“Why?” JJ drew out the word.

“I didn’t press the issue,” Garcia answered.

You tuned out JJ and Garcia’s voices, thinking about what your dad could possibly be hiding when another familiar name caught your attention.

“Mrs. Hotchner,” JJ answered the phone.

Your heart sank in your chest- Haley had been a big part of your life for a long time. Her and Hotch were newlyweds when you met them- all young and googly eyed and disgustingly in love. Back then, the BAU had also been quite the boys club, and Haley had taken you under her wing. You finally had someone that could teach you about clothes and make-up and boys. She was the first real consistent female figure in your life.

But despite your efforts to contact her, she hadn’t gotten back to you since she served Hotch with divorce papers.

“Well, that- that would make sense because he's in a prison right now, so sometimes cell service can be…” JJ trailed off and you tried not to overhear the angry words on the other end of the phone. “Oh, yeah- well if-yeah, if I can get ahold of him I'll… okay.” JJ hung up the phone. “That is one seriously pissed-off lady.”

You didn’t want to imagine Haley angry- she’d always been such a caring and understanding person, and selfishly, that’s how you wanted to keep seeing her. Once again, you tuned out the conversation and went back to your paperwork, but now your mind was flooded with questions and anxieties. You doubted you’d get any paperwork done now.

JJ got on the phone and Garcia left the office. You looked down at the files and wished that Spencer was there. It wouldn’t have taken much for him to make you feel better- just a small brush of hands or shoulders, maybe a few badly spoken Italian words- but he wasn’t there. As soon as JJ hung up the phone she looked over to you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I really that easy to read?” you asked.

JJ sighed. “No, but Hotch is getting divorced and I know you were close to Haley. You’re Jack’s godmother. On top of that your dad apparently has some massive secret that he’s been recruiting Garcia to help him with. I’d be feeling a little sad right now if I were you.”

You shrugged. “I’m not all that worried about my dad to be honest,” you admitted. “And I guess if Haley only had me in her life because of Hotch... then she was never really my friend in the first place.”

JJ didn’t have time to respond because Prentiss opened the door without knocking. Her eyes expressed concern and she spoke quickly. “You guys should come see this.”

“You go,” you told JJ. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Emily and JJ left you alone in her office. You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts, looking for Haley’s number. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. You weren’t going to call her- she never picked up anymore. Every text you’d sent had gotten no reply. There wasn’t anyone there to tell you what to do… except for you.

Your dad would have scolded you for being too involved, Spencer would have just taken your phone and held it above his head so you couldn’t reach, and Hotch… Well, for the first time in a long time you didn’t know what Hotch would do. So you typed the message out and pressed send before putting your phone in your pocket and pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

You walked to the bullpen to find Emily and JJ, but the two of them and Morgan were leaning over the railing outside your dad’s office, talking to Garcia.

“The guy is a fussy, anal-retentive neat freak who-” Emily stopped herself when you approached.

There was a pause and all of them looked at you. It was the same way agents used to look at you when you were a teenager and walked in on them conversing about a brutal case- you had heard something that you weren’t supposed to hear.

“Let me guess,” you started. “We’re talking about my dad?”

You peered behind Emily to see what all the fuss was about, and indeed it was something to fuss over. Your father’s files were scattered all over his office- the desk, the table, and the floor were littered with papers that would take hours to organize properly. Never in your life had you seen your father’s space look so messy.

“Oh, Papa.” Your jaw fell slack in shock and you rushed up to your dad’s office to get a closer look. Nothing was broken- his favorite mug was empty on his desk, the lamp stood tall, and the glass of the picture of the two of you was still intact- but your father’s filing system was like an extension of his brain and at the moment it was destroyed. “Fuori come un balcone…” You muttered as you looked around at the disarray in front of you.

“Say what?” Morgan asked.

“She says he’s gone crazy,” Emily interpreted.

You looked back at Garcia. You loved Penelope, you truly did, but if she didn’t tell you where your father was, you thought you might become the next unsub the team had to hunt down. “Where did my father go?” you asked, your tone serious. Almost dangerous.

Garcia turned serious as well. “He’s in Indianapolis on a 20 year-old double homicide. He said it’s time someone pays for it, and he was upset.”

You shook your head in slight disbelief- you must have been around seven or eight when it happened, but you had no distinct memory of your father coming home upset over a case at that age. When you were that little he tried to keep you as far away from the bad part of his work as possible, but surely you would have remembered something that disturbed him this badly.

The rest of the team’s chatter was background noise until Morgan tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to look at the team member who was probably least impressed by your father, but a team was a team to Morgan and that’s all that really mattered.

“Rossi-Reid,” he said. “Let’s go.”

---

It felt like the start to a bad joke… You, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss walking into a bar. But seeing your dad look so defeated made you want to do anything but laugh. You’d grown up thinking he was invincible, and even though you knew better now it still hurt something inside you to know that he wasn’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak as the rest of the group convinced your dad to let them help.

Rossi finally turned away from the bar. He looked at everyone, but his gaze lingered on you just a bit longer than the others. “Why do you care?” he asked.

You wanted to speak, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth.

“Because you do,” Emily said.

Without another word, Rossi grabbed his drink and walked over to a section of the bar that looked more like a lounge. All of you sat down and your dad began to talk. The case wasn’t even supposed to involve the BAU- your dad just happened to be in the car with the detective when he got the call. They were first on the scene of a brutal murder, leaving three kids as orphans, and there wasn’t anything to lead them to a suspect. The murder weapon, an ax, had been wiped clean.

“It turns out it belonged to the family,” your dad said. “The oldest daughter, Connie, told me her father bought it on Christmas eve a few months earlier to cut down the Christmas tree.” He sighed heavily and suddenly things started to make sense. “Now I always associate the whole thing with Christmas… Never been able to put up a tree myself again.”

You gazed down at the floor, unable to look at your dad. You recalled the first year the two of you didn’t go to pick out a tree; how you’d found the ornaments in the trash and suddenly your dad began giving you gifts on New Year Eve instead of Christmas day. You always assumed that he thought you’d outgrown the holiday- you knew that Santa wasn’t real and reindeer couldn’t fly. Snowmen didn’t come to life if you gave them a magic hat and the north pole was just a place full of snow instead of candy forests and elves that built toys.

You’d attributed his sadness on Christmas day to the fact that you were getting older, but the whole time it was because he was mourning parents that would never get to see their children grow up and children who would have to grow up without their parents to take care of them.

“When we arrived on the scene, before any of the other units got there, I could hear them before I even got out of the car.” The look in your dad’s eyes was distant, as if he was still at the scene from long ago.

“It was a warm morning and the windows were open in the upstairs bedroom… And their voices floated out into the street. They were crying and calling for their mommy and daddy.” You’d never heard your father so close to tears. “Three terrified children, screaming for their murdered parents. I've seen so much death and pain, but that sound… It's been twenty years and I can still hear them screaming every night, crying.”

You’d known your dad had nightmares occasionally- it came with the job- but it had been so long since you lived under his roof, you’d wondered if they had gotten worse as time went on. You wondered if, just like an unsub could be triggered by an anniversary, a profiler could too.

“If I can't tell them for sure that whoever’s responsible will never do it again, that screaming might never stop.”

Your dad finished off his drink and you, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss looked around at one another. You’d been quiet for a while now, letting the rest of them do the talking while you sat with your memories and feelings, but now that you had processed everything you were ready to get to work.

“Well,” you said, looking at your dad. It was a good thing you’d gotten his stubbornness. “Let’s find who’s responsible for it then.”

---

It was easy enough for Garcia to find out where the children were living now, and before you knew it, Morgan was pulling up to the house and the team was getting out of the SUV, ready to face the case that had haunted David Rossi for two decades.

“Hi, Connie,” he greeted the oldest daughter. She couldn’t have been that much older than you. No wonder this case had hit him so hard. “I brought the team-”

“You need to stop this!” It was almost as if she was begging.

“Excuse me?”

“We thought that if we didn’t call you back the last couple of times you would just give up and leave us alone,” she said, her voice unsettled.

“Well, I know that it hurts, but I’m only trying to make sure someone pays for your parents’ deaths.” After nearly six months at the BAU, you’d never heard Rossi be so gentle with someone. The last time he used that tone was when he talked to you after Gideon left.

“We don’t care anymore!” Connie stressed. “It’s been twenty years. We need to be able to move past it, please!”

Your dad had always been a pusher, so when he responded with “I won’t bother you kids again,” and turned to get back into the car it surprised you a little. Part of you wanted to push for him.

“And you’ll stop it with the gifts too?!” That made all of you pause and turn back towards the family.

“Gifts?” The wheels in your dad’s head were beginning to turn.

“What are we supposed to do with a bunch of toys that remind us of the worst day of our lives?”

Rossi paused, his stare pointed at the girl with the intensity of the agent you knew he was. “I never sent you any gifts.”

Within ten minutes the three kids, who were now all adults, compiled the toys they had been mysteriously given over the years. You put on a set of rubber gloves and began to inspect them. You automatically knew your dad would never send toys like these to anyone- the material was falling apart in your hands, the stitching easily ripped, and they smelled like chemicals from a warehouse. One of them even left colorful dye on your gloves. Rossi was a best selling author, but even before that he’d always had expensive taste. Your own favorite childhood toy was an FAO Schwarz Teddy Bear that was older than this case and was still in decent condition- considering how much the stuffed animal had been through.

“See, an unsub like this, when they seek out children, they want to play with them,” Morgan explained. “They don’t really want to hurt them, but it’s their size- it frightens people.”

You stood up and stripped off your gloves. Done inspecting the evidence, you looked over at your dad. “This could be that piece you were looking for.”

Soon enough Garcia had gone through crime records and the team was on the move, searching the grounds of a carnival. Rossi and Prentiss paired up while you, JJ, and Morgan inspected the grounds.

“I can’t believe people actually pay good money to play these fixed games,” Morgan said.

“Men,” JJ said blankly. You snorted.

“Excuse me?” said Morgan.

“It’s not people,” you clarified. “It’s men.”

“Is that a fact?” Morgan tried to seem unbothered, but you’d known him long enough to know he’d probably tried to impress several ladies by winning them prizes on impossible ring toss.

“Only a man would waste fifty dollars trying to win a three dollar stuffed animal,” JJ said.

Morgan huffed a little, but the three of you kept walking, looking for anyone who could possibly resemble the unsub you were looking for.

“Clown.” You spotted him, white make-up still half on his face and red smeared around his lips. Morgan and JJ looked in the direction you nodded in. The clown looked back at the three of you and promptly dropped his trash bag before walking off.

The three of you went to look for him, trying not to look too threatening or suspicious. It didn’t take long for Morgan to spot the man’s discarded broom near a covered platform. Drawing your side arm and preparing for the possibility of a fight, JJ pulled down the cover to reveal the unsub hiding like a small child. It took you and Morgan combined to get him out from under the platform and cuffed. JJ kept her side arm ready just in case while Rossi restrained the unsubs father and Emily aided you and Morgan.

You took a moment to look over at your dad, but he was looking at the unsub- the man who he had spent twenty years trying to find. You expected him to look relieved, at least a little bit, but more than anything Rossi looked disturbed, as if he truly couldn’t believe that someone who had done such a horrible thing had a right to exist on earth. He should have been nothing more than a speck of dirt on your Papa’s spotless shoes, but he was a monster in the shape of a man- the reason three children had screamed for their dead parents; the reason your father heard their screams every night. And when your dad looked at you, you knew that he was thinking about twenty years worth of Christmas’s lost- twenty years worth of childhood and twenty years worth of memories.

At least you could make up for them now.

---

The jet was quiet- JJ filling out the paperwork to make the case official, Morgan with his headphones, and Prentiss with a book. Everyone except your dad was busy with something. He was just looking out the window, lost in thought.

You closed the file you were working on and moved to the other side of the jet, sitting across from him. He looked over at you, breaking his gaze away from the clouds.

“Mio passerotta,” he said, a smile in his voice. “You did a good job today.”

The compliment surprised you. Really you had done no more than the rest of the team, but the way your dad looked at you was different than he had before- like he was seeing you as more than a kid and more than an agent. He was seeing you as both.

“You know, I really wish you had told me,” you said. “Maybe not when I was little, but before you threw your files all over your office and we had to fly two hours to find out why.”

“Well,” he sighed. “Now you know.”

“And now you know why we work as a team,” you said.

He nodded once, slowly. “I guess I do,” he said. “But, mio passerotta, you and I have always been a team.”

“Does this mean you’ll start treating me like a team member?”

“It does,” he confirmed. “But you’ll still always be my daughter.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

---

The mood was light walking back into the bullpen, and you felt yourself brighten even more when you saw that Spencer was back. Every ounce of you wanted to run up and embrace him. The past twenty four hours had been an emotional roller coaster and your body craved to be pressed against his. Spencer must have known, because when you walked over to his desk, he took your hand lightly and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles before answering Morgan’s question and directing Rossi to his office where Kevin was waiting for him.

“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here.” Emily smirked as your dad closed his office door to talk to Kevin in private.

“What?” Your husband looked confused. “What does that mean?” Then he looked up at you- an inter-BAU marriage was rather scandalous in theory, but you and Spencer were so tame in front of everyone that it really didn’t count.

“Didn’t you hear JJ?” Emily said.

“The song meant something? No- no I missed it,” Spencer began to ramble.

“It-it-” Emily sighed. “You know what, never mind.” She sat down at her desk.

“What?” Spencer looked towards Rossi’s office.

You touched his hand lightly, still leaning against his desk. “I’ll explain it when we get home, Spencer,” you told him. He nodded, but then went back to gaping at the closed door.

You looked up too- seeing that Hotch was in his office. Normally you would have gone to say hello and maybe tease him about having missed all the fun, but even from where you sat you could tell that he was far more distressed than normal. The papers he was holding weren’t just from a case. They were personal.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, expecting a text from Garcia, or maybe Morgan. But when you saw the name on the screen your stomach dropped. With shaking hands, you opened the message:

From Haley Hotchner:

I want you to be a part of Jack’s life. You’re an amazing person, (Y/N). I love you and Jack loves you. You’re right that he shouldn’t have to grow up like you did, with only one parent to rely on, but Aaron needs to figure that out himself.

“Mio amata?” Spencer said low enough so that Emily couldn’t hear. “Are you alright?”

You shoved your phone in your pocket. “Tesoro,” you whispered, holding back tears. “Portami a casa?”

Spencer grabbed your go-bag and his satchel, his eyes wide and sympathetic with understanding. “Let’s go home.”

---

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[prienova]

I showed my friend, who knows almost nothing about f1 and has absolutely no filter, photos of each driver on the 2022 grid and made her name and give me her first impressions on them and 😭. She just said whatever came into her head at the time, none of this was really thought over :). Everything is under the cut since this is such a long post!

Max Verstappen: William Osbourne

italian or spanish vibes

slightly dark and broody vibes

takes racing very seriously

“He is either super nice or an absolute asshole, or maybe he’s both who knows.”

Sergio Perez: Kristopher

A little lost but everyone loves it

100% has compilations on youtube that are like “kristopher being kristopher for 8 minutes and 23 seconds”

Has spent so long in f1 that everyone is telling him to quit

Very enthusiastic and his fans are very loyal

Charles Leclerc: Alexio 

“Damn he’s fine as hell!”

Hot, sexy, and hardworking

Has so many smutty fanfics written about him but he doesn’t know that they exist

Famous for his dimples and general smolder

Carlos Sainz: Akaash

“Oh my god, is he indian? YES DESI REP!” (She was so exited, I felt bad telling her he is spanish)

Could act in a movie as a fuckboy

Nice enough but might break your heart

Hard to approach but well liked by others

Lewis Hamilton: Joseph (but goes by Joe)

“Why are these guys so hot?”

Very wholesome and doing his best

“He looks like a good driver, I’d let him grip my steering wheel” ;)

Probably posts thirst traps after workouts

George Russell: George (she got one!)

Smiles and laughs but is secretly sad inside

“Is he gay? He feels gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I am too and my senses are tingling.”

Solid driver

After seeing him in his williams era: “Awww, look at his hair, what a gem :)”

Fernando Alonso: Alec La Chance

Old man, people are begging him to retire but he stays out of spite

Has a questionable hairstyle

Can come off as rude and scary but he is just blunt

Has probably hazed the new drivers each year

Esteban Ocon: David

Sweet guy, seems very bubbly and fun to be around, has a cute face

Would hype you up if you were feeling down

“He's that one cousin who you see at family gatherings every 4 years that you get along with super well but never talk to outside of those gatherings as neither of you can seem to make the effort to reach out.” (yes, this is her exact wording 😭)

“Is his hair wet or is that just an unholy amout of hair gel?”

Daniel Ricciardo: Arnesto

Very popular among the guys and gals ;)

Very chill and well liked

“He’s so smiley, I love his teeth!”

Looks like he belongs in FIFA

Lando Norris: Theodore

“How old is this guy? I thought you said they had to be 18 to drive or something.”

Has an “I’m not like other boys” mentality

Probably reads those romance webnovels that all have the exact same plot and cries when he finishes them because he wants to be loved

Says “pog” and “sus” unironically

Valterri Bottas: Scott

“He’s giving me australian vibes.”

Has a nice smile, seems chill and relaxed, very reliable

Not a fan of publicity but deals with it only because he has to

Comes off as tough and intense but is actually a total sweetheart, gives off major dad energy

Zhou Guanyu: Andrew

“Ooooh, I like him. He would bump into me on the way to work, spill my drink, and buy me coffee as an apology.”

A solid dude and a good friend

Seems like a good sport

She spent almost ten minutes drooling over his modeling pictures 💀

Kevin Magnussen: Gordon Ramsay

Has strong father vibes but is unhinged

Head empty, only cars

Has questionable morals but everyone loves him

Stoner energy

“He looks like if someone tried to copy Gordon Ramsay but changed it up a bit so it wasn’t obvious.”

Mick Schumacher: Brad

Very charismatic

“What happened to his hair? Why would he cut it like that?” (I showed her before and after photos of that one haircut)

Very sweet but is also a menace to society

Looks like he would enjoy cherry flavored cough medicine

Pierre Gasly: Chadwick

Very cool and suave, flirts a lot, secretly sad inside

Throws parties often

Would have went into finance if f1 didn’t work out

Has a small but devoted fanbase, extremely underrated driver

“I can’t tell if I would trust him or not.”

Yuki Tsunoda: Benjamin

Very nice, another solid guy

“He has the same hair my brother did when he was 12.”

Can drive an f1 car well but gets too nervous to drive on regular streets because he doesn’t trust himself to not start speeding

“He’s cute, I’d date him.”

Sebastian Vettel: Gandalf

Very nice and wise, pleasant to talk to

Wins a lot, has many fans that thirst over him and his scruffy hair

Could have been a footballer but chose to go into f1 instead

“He has fun uncle energy, I want to smoke a joint with him.”

Lance Stroll: Jacob from Twilight

“THIS GUY’S HAIRCUT IS EVEN WORSE THAN BRAD’S!”

When he got rid of his old hair, his passion for the sport left with it

Sometimes gets intimidated by some of the intense racers

“Someone please tell him to grow his hair back out, it looked so good.”

Alex Albon: Jughead from Archie

Has a good portion of haters for no reason

A bit awkward but very sweet

Pulls off the red hair VERY well

“I want to be his bottle of hairdye.”

Nicholas Latifi: Santander

Is either the best driver currently or very bad

Looks very intuitive and thoughtful

Seems handy and domestically skilled

“I like his hands, do you think he moisturizes?”

I honestly can’t tell which one is my favorite 😭

[evita-shelby]

Hello!! Happy first year! 🎉🎉✨✨

May I request: “Don't torture yourself... that's my job.” for Luca? Or "This is all so humiliating. Why did I marry you?" also for this handsome Italian. Your choice! ❤️ Thanks in advance, Juli!!

thank you Flor🖤🖤🖤🖤

Monster-in-law

Gif by @darkcrystals

“This is all so humiliating. Why did I marry you?” you said in a fit of exasperation made worse by him knocking out the cigarette you had pilfered from a waiter.

His mother did not like her, to say the least.

Luca didn’t know what it was, but neither women in his life could ever get along.

He had assumed things would have cooled down by the time his cousin’s wedding came, but he had just been proven wrong.

He loves his mother, he loves you, and yet he is the only thing stopping the two of you getting in a catfight.

His mother had correctly guessed you had not been a virgin on your wedding night, you had taken offense and before you could reach across the table to throttle her, he made up some bullshit excuse to get some air.

You needed a cigarette, to scratch that itch withdrawal was giving you.

But the two of you had promised to quit smoking, your son’s health trumped all, but you so desperately needed a smoke.

“You don’t mean that.” Luca dismissed your rather hurtful words and offered you a peppermint candy from the stash he kept just for you.

You take it gratefully, but its not enough to make you stop thinking about how badly you need a cigarette…so you pinch yourself.

You had started doing that, not often and always where the gloves cover it and Luca had been completely oblivious to it.

Until now that is.

“Don’t torture yourself… that’s my job.” He says taking both your hands and kissing the spot you had pinched with a wicked look in his pretty green eyes. “If you’re a good girl for me tonight, amore mio, I promise you’ll be rewarded.”

[f1-giuki]

A Sunday Kind of Love 6 is at +13k words and I don't know how longer it will get, probably a lot, I love it.

Should I add a scene where Max, on the phone with Charles’s mom, dyes Charles’ hair?

And, here's a snippet of the fic! Enjoy!

~

The next morning Max is awake and not too dumbed by a long 12-hour nap. All the tiredness he accumulated caught up with him. He wakes up rather early and manages to eat half of the sweets in the pantry for breakfast. He drinks a red red bull can, the only one he's allowed in the house, and he walks upstairs to turn on the simulator. He might do some endurance racing until lunch.

As the computer turns on he checks his messages. There are a few texts from Charles, a bunch of I lost my dildo, do you know where my pink dildo is texts, a picture of a cake his mother made with a finger half covering the camera lens, another one without the finger, a video Arthur took of Charles asleep on the sofa snoring loudly, you stole my highway pass!!, BASTARD!, then Charles texts him the time he will leave for Italy, two days later, Max blinks twice when he sees that Charles will drive from Monaco to their place.

Babe, are you insane?

Wait, don't answer… What will you do today?

He texts and grins when he sees Charles's answer, a sticker of his face holding a red triangle sign saying 'don't'. Max laughs.

I'll sleep again, go to your place since mine is flooded with people outside, I'll help mom make a menu for the dinner with the cousins and then I'll probably be forced to make lasagne for lunch by Arthur, he doesn't let me live after the ones I made for Easter

Tell him that the next time you fall asleep he should draw a dick on your forehead

Like he did last week

absolutely no, don't give him strange ideas

You're lucky I don't have his number

I know you think I lack self-preservation instincts, but I don't go that far

I miss you

I love you

I love you too

don't let Arthur wait for his food

Blah blah blah, ttyl <3

God you're so sexy when you use millennial slang

Max smiles and puts his phone on the Red Bull mini-fridge he has in the sim room, next to his first world championship trophy. A curious piece of tat. He sits down and fixes the camera in front of him. He still has an hour before he needs to turn it on and join a live stream with his sim racing team. He grins and opens goat simulator and takes his phone to text Lando.

Wanna do one hour of goat simulator before I go live?

Fuck yeah, mate

-

Max's stomach rumbles at half past noon, while he's still streaming and, after five minutes of good teasing, he turns off the live stream, and goes to the kitchen, trying to understand what to make. He looks at the package of tagliatelle Charles bought but didn't like. It's been sitting on the counter for two weeks. He takes it and grins as he opens the pantry filled with stacked jars of fancy tomato sauce. Charles really has a problem…

"Okay, that will do," he mumbles as he takes a new jar.

He puts on another Paul Simon vinyl and jams to the music while cutting onions and garlic, humming the words of 50 Ways to leave your lover. Max grins and puts the chopped stuff in a little bowl. Charles has taught him to be organised in the kitchen and he's trying. His phone starts ringing and Max stops the music to pick it up. It’s a number he hasn’t saved in his contacts, an Italian number.

"Hello?"

"Ciao zio Max! Sono Lorenzo!" Hi uncle Max! I'm Lorenzo!

"Ciao Lorenzo, come stai?” Hi Lorenzo, how are you? He asks with a big smile on his face.

“Tutto bene, scusa se ti chiamo, ma mia mamma non riesce a venirmi a prendere a scuola… Potresti passare tu?”

“Aspetta, I don’t understand, one second, un secondo…” Max says as he hurries to the living room to take his tablet with him and opens Google Translate.

“Parla, per favore,” Speak, please. He says and Lorenzo repeats the phrase. All’s good, sorry if I’m calling you, but my mom can’t pick me up from school… Could you come and pick me up?

[darkened-storm]

Truth Or Dare

Written as part of my prep for Mayblade, a team bonding scene prior to the Bladebreakers match with the Demolition Boys

— — —

In the hours after they returned from the lake and after they’d all thawed out from the cold, the Bladebreakers gathered in their hotel room with snacks Kai had fetched them from the closest convenience store.

“Take all my rupees,” Tyson had declared. “I offer it all in the name of snacks.”

Tyson’s cash had been enough for two whole boxes of snacks, including popcorn, American candy and an assortment of Russian delicacies that Steph had never seen before, but she quickly recognised the picture of a peppermint leaf on a chocolate bar and snatched it up.

Becky found a bowl and popped the popcorn in the microwave. “Let’s play truth or dare,” she suggested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Steph said hesitantly. “We need to concentrate on being a team tonight, not almost killing each other.”

“Aww, don’t be a buzzkill,” Tyson jeered, nudging her in the ribs gently to assure her he was only teasing. “Daring your friends to do reckless stuff is how some of the best friendships are made.”

“He has a point,” Ray agreed with a shrug. “But maybe we should agree now that no one gets dared to steal anything.”

“Fair point,” Max agreed, “can’t beat the Demolition Boys from prison.”

“Unless they end up in prison too,” Becky added. “Oooh, that’s an idea…”

“No,” Kai said, in his most serious, no nonsense voice. “No one is going to jail. But otherwise Truth of Dare is a good idea.”

Steph scowled at him. “I warned you,” she said.

It wasn’t as terrible as she thought it would be. They learned the truth about Ray’s fear of werewolves, dared Tyson to eat his popcorn out of his hat and Max was forced to stuff as many Oreos in his mouth as he could at once. After almost choking down the last one, he rounded on Steph.

“Steph’s up,” he declared, far too cheerfully for the Italian beyblader’s liking. “Truth or dare?”

Steph hesitated, then as she caught sight of Becky, looking far too happy as she munched on a handful of popcorn, a wicked idea occurred to her. “Truth,” she said and grinned. “Becky’s not a real blonde.”

Tyson, Max and Ray gasped and the room fell silent as Becky looked up, her hand buried into the popcorn bucket. She met Steph’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, Steph wondered if she might have gone a step too far. Then all of a sudden, Becky raised her popcorn filled hand and launched the popped kernals in her cousin’s direction and chaos ensued.

“Blasphemy!” Becky roared as popcorn went everywhere and Steph ducked behind Tyson, using his body as a shield.

“Why am I getting dragged into this?” Tyson yelped helplessly.

“I call foul play!” Becky went on, this time upending the entire bucket of popcorn on top of them both. “The truth is supposed to be about you!” She whirled around, empty popcorn bucket in hand causing both Max and Ray to duck for cover as she turned to their captain for reason. “Referee, a decision please?”

Kai took a moment to deliberate then, with a wicked grin, declared, “I’ll allow it.”

“TRAITOR!” Becky bellowed, and launched the popcorn bucket at her captain.

“Oho,” Ray winced sympathetically as Kai swore, ducking behind the couch as Becky descended on him, taking up a cushion as her new weapon. “He’s caused a mutiny.”

“Guess that means we have a decision to make,” Max decduced, as he too took up a pillow. Then he grinned at his teammates. “Well, are we a team or not?”

Tyson, Ray and Steph exchanged glances, then in silent agreement they nodded and armed themselves with pillows and blankets (and even a bag of skittles in Steph’s case.

“MUTINY!” Tyson bellowed as he led the charge, Becky cheering madly.

Kai realised his mistake all too late as he covered his head with his arms as the onslaught began. “Guys, wait - let’s talk about this!” he wailed helplessly.

But it was no use, he realised dismally. After the incident at the lake, the Bladebreakers were indeed a team, and a force to be reckoned with. As Kai was pelted with pillow after pillow and skittles rained from the ceiling, he knew for certain that whatever the Demolition Boys threw at them tomorrow, they would face it as a tea