#multipart: no more regrets

[homeless202]

Eunyung Baek and Theater 3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | Extras

why he didn't go back

-> not attached anymore?

LIAR LIAR

-> no regrets?

LIAR LIAR LIAR

》PANTS ON FIRE《

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part11

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

very important note at the end - pls read it

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.

Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”

They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”

His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”

Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”

Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”

The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”

Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”

Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”

Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”

Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.

Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.

Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”

Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”

Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”

Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”

“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”

“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.

Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”

“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”

Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”

As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!

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

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[aperrywilliams]

They Will Never (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is jealous. During the Christmas party at their daughter's school, the other moms don’t stop hitting on him.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+; Minor DNI. Suggestive and dirty talk. Smut (fade to black) at the end of the fic. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I’m back!!!! This past months have been a rollercoaster in many ways. Well, talking about this fic, it could be a sequel from "That Wicked Love" multipart I wrote a while ago. Nonetheless, it could be read as a stand-alone.

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

I never thought it would be easy. When I discovered that I was pregnant and Spencer wasn't going to support me, I was sure the world had ended.

There were weeks of thinking over and over again about what I would do with my life. Then I decided I would have Olivia, and that's it.

I don't regret my decision. Liv is my little girl, and I love her with all my heart, but motherhood is hard.

Since Olivia was born, my life has mostly revolved around her. Being a mother is a full-time job. But I have been managing the best I could. I continued working after she was born, and with time, some of my personal life returned too.

However, the stability of our little family was broken when a bloody bastard kidnapped my little girl two years ago. She was four back then.

That wasn't enough, though.

What were the chances of Spencer working on my daughter's kidnapping case?

I forgot to mention that I never told him I would continue my pregnancy, so it was a surprise for him to see me and know that he had indeed been a father.

Fortunately, Spencer’s team recovered Olivia and three more kids kidnapped by the same guy.

What followed was a rollercoaster of events and emotions. Spencer wanted to be in Liv’s life, and although I swore never to talk to him again, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father.

He showed regret and swore that leaving me alone while pregnant was the worst thing he had done in his life. He looked genuinely sorry, and he wanted to make it up to Olivia.

Against the odds, I let him.

He became the best dad for my girl. Since then, he has been for her at every step.

The problem? Having him close awoke those feelings I thought were buried the day he left.

I tried to ignore it. I really tried. Even if he never did something to make me uncomfortable in our co-parenting roles, I did feel off with it.

I still loved him. And months after, Spencer confessed that he still loved me too.

Would it be a bad idea? Maybe. But I left my heart to speak louder than my brain. That's why we have been dating for the past three months.

So you can guess how odd it is having your daughter’s dad as a boyfriend. Some people think we are married or living together when we are not. Others believe we are just co-parenting and don’t have a relationship.

Usually, I don't care what people think. But right now I wish things between us were clearer to the world, specifically for the moms who had Spencer cornered in the venue of this year’s school Christmas party.

Am I jealous? Yeah. But how could I not be? Spencer is the epitome of the young-hot dad, caring and lovely. And polite. Very very polite. So much so that even if he had noticed their advances, he hadn’t said anything. Maybe he likes that.

This has me overthinking, and I wouldn't say I like it because it brings all kinds of insecurity thoughts to my mind.

Right now, for example, instead of going to interrupt this obscene flirtation, I'm walking to the opposite side to check if Olivia needs anything. I can't bring myself to do something different.

It didn't help to hear part of their conversation when I was passing by a while ago.

“Your wife is a lucky girl, then,” Kimberly chimed, patting Spencer’s forearm.

“My what?” the man asked, confused.

“Your wife? Olivia's mom?” Kim explains, tilting her head. Then Spencer realizes she’s talking about me.

“Oh! No, actually, we are not married,” he corrected. God, Kimberly’s eyes go wide as if she found a gold mine. The rest of the moms there reacted in the same way.

I have nothing against that fact, but with them knowing it? It's like a door was opened. A door to the shameless coquetry, and I hate it.

I knew Spencer wouldn’t be consciously flirting with them, but seeing him laugh at their jokes and don’t even flinch when one of them gripped his forearm not only made me see red.

It was even worst: it made me self-conscious.

I know it's an irrational feeling. Of course I know there are people better than me in many things. I wouldn't pretend to be a superwoman or something close to that. But since Olivia started preschool, I have been feeling less than the other moms. At first, it was because I was raising her alone and working simultaneously. I couldn't make it to every school event or whatever they planned during the year. Now, also, there is the fact that it’s Spencer who can fulfill that role, and I still can’t. He is the cool dad with a cool job. And there are cool moms with cool jobs too, who he’s talking to at this precise moment.

Doing the math, it doesn't look like I could be up to that kind of expectation.

For the rest of the evening, I avoided being close to Spencer and the other moms. Instead, I focused on the kids and that Olivia could have fun at the party. After all, it was the primary purpose of this activity.

The ride home was mostly silent. I tried to concentrate on driving and not look at Spencer from the corner of my eye. Liv was fast asleep in the back seat.

The streets were filled with snow, and you could see the Christmas lights on the windows of each building we passed. The ambient was clearly festive, but I didn't feel or look that way.

Maybe Spencer felt something was off, but I guess he didn't want to bring it up in the car. He only made some random comments about the party, and for all of them, he got from me a curt hum in response.

When I parked, he took hold of a sleepy Olivia in his arms and helped me upstairs.

It was a well-known routine since we told Liv that Spencer was her dad, and she warmed up to him. Every time we got to my apartment after an afternoon together, he carried our daughter to her room and got her ready for bed. The little girl would open her eyes and demand a bed story from her dad.

Spencer loves reading to her, even if he knows most of the stories by heart. That's one of the many things they share as father and daughter, and I try to give them the space to do that. That's why this time, like others, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some tea.

With a mug in hand, and after switching on the Christmas tree lights, I plopped on the couch. I didn't notice before how much my feet hurt. What can I say? The afternoon’s overthinking even dimmed my body aching.

Great, now I can add ‘old and wasted’ to my self-deprecation list.

I let my eyes be entertained by the colored lights, wondering if I was being overdramatic. My thoughts were interrupted by Spencer sitting beside me.

“I couldn't finish the story, and she had already fallen asleep,” he announced, lifting my legs so they could rest on his lap. Thoughtlessly, he started rubbing my feet.

Silence took over the room. I tried to concentrate on the pleasant feeling of his hands on my aching feet, but my face sure didn't hide my sour mood.

“What's wrong?” Spencer asked cautiously, inspecting my features. I tried to play ignorant.

“Uh? What do you mean?” I lied. Spencer frowned.

“You are too quiet. You didn't say anything during the car ride, and I could tell you avoided me most of this afternoon,” he recounted.

Shit. Obviously, he noticed.

“I’m just tired,” I lied again. I didn't want to explain what was bothering me. It was silly, and I felt stupid for it. He was about to say something to question my answer, but I didn't let him.

“Maybe you should go home. I think it's better I go to bed,” I pointed, detaching my feet off his lap and sitting straight on the couch. By all means, I avoided making eye contact because I knew he would realize what I was trying to do.

During the past months, he had spent the night at mine before, but it wasn’t a habitual thing. We decided to take it slow, and neither he nor I had put pressure on that matter.

Spencer’s frown deepened, nonetheless.

“Okay. I’ll go,” he announced. “But first you need to tell me what is bothering you. I don’t bite the ‘tired’ thing,” he declared, shifting his posture on the couch to have a better look of me.

“Nothing is wrong,” I repeated, but my voice sounded even less convincing than before. The man hummed, thinking about what to say first.

“Did you know that in the US the 95% of people who are asked for a confirmation to a statement actually lie about it?” He commented. I huffed, already feeling trapped.

“Great. Now is where your 187 is displayed,” I said under my breath. It was a thought that wasn’t meant to be said at loud. But it slipped.

Spencer tilted his head.

“Hey! Now I’m worried. What happened? What did I do?” he asked in a high pitch tone, scooting to my side. I shook my head, sighing.

Maybe it was better to get clean and tell him everything.

“You - you didn't do anything. I mean, yeah. You were there, all cute and sexy. It's your fault! And they? They were all over you, gawking at you as someone looks at their prey!” I grumbled.

“They?” Spencer asked in confusion.

“The other moms, Spencer! Now you will tell me you didn't notice?” I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest and placing some distance between us on the couch.

“You mean at the party? No way. That not happened,” he refuted, shooking his head.

The bastard was denying the most obvious thing! That made anger fill my body, and I had to stand and start pacing. It was that or scream at the man.

At the loss of words, Spencer stood too, following my pace with his gaze.

I knew he could see the fuming escaping from my ears, but I didn't care.

He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to start. I bet my pacing in the room wasn’t helping him.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled softly to catch my attention. I turned to see him. His confused look only fueled my irritation.

“Fuck, Spencer! How can you be so clueless? They were hitting on you! God, if it were up to them, you'd already be tied to their bed frame,” I shouted, hands waving in the air to accentuate my point.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“What? That's not true. They were being nice. That's all,” Spencer defended. Sure, he has to be oblivious right now. I would have punched him to make him realize the truth.

“Nice, uh? I didn't know nice meant touching the guy in front of the whole people every chance they got. Or are you going to deny they did that, uh, genius?” I sneered now with my hands on my hips. My blood was boiling inside as I remembered the scene.

Spencer cleared his throat. He was recalling those details, and they were hitting him now. Cautiously he took a step forward, hands trying to reach mine.

“Hey, don’t get upset. I - I didn't see that. I’m sorry,” he said, stepping in front of me and prying my arms from their position on my hips. His fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of my palms.

“I should have seen it. I didn't think it was something like that. You know I’m pretty stupid in that kind of thing. I’m really sorry,” he apologized.

I really wanted to stay angry, but seeing those puppy dog ​​eyes, looking intently at me made it difficult.

Argh! Why just one look from him it's all that it takes to feel my knees go weak?

“Don't look at me like that!” I protested.

“Like what?” He asked, kind of amused by the reaction he provoked in me.

“Like you were an innocent pigeon. All men are the same, honestly,” I complained, leaving the grasp of his hands. A new rush of anger came quickly. Spencer pursed his lips; he could tell the reason why I was upset wasn’t just the moms flirting with him.

Before I could turn and walk away, Spencer stopped me grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently so I could look at him.

“Please, don’t go. I’m sorry I didn't notice. But you know why I didn't? Because they are not you,” he declared, intertwining our fingers and grasping our hands with his free one. I looked at him, with some treacherous tears fighting to come out.

He continued.

“They are not you. You are the only one that can get my attention that way,” he declared, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

“I’m not that special, you know?” I mumbled, pursing my lips to stop the tears.

There it was. The intrusive thought in my mind replayed over and over since it hit me this afternoon.

Spencer narrowed his eyes, realizing there was more than jealousy because of him.

“Don’t say that. Of course you are that special, and much more!” He rebutted, and I chuckled bitterly.

“Am I? I mean, why would you be happy with me when you can get a successful well-manicured super mom like them?” I pointed.

“What are you talking about? What is that thing about super moms?” he asked, now taking hold of both my hands.

I sighed. It was something that was hard to explain, even to me. I left the grasp of his hands, running mine through my hair, collecting my thoughts.

“Look. I don't expect you can fully understand it. Honestly, I think I can’t understand it either. It's just - I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m not doing enough. I’m not a successful businesswoman with a six-year-old daughter, a nice car, all dolled up, perfect makeup, and baking cupcakes for the whole school, like Kimberly, you know?” I shrugged, feeling small and vulnerable.

Of all that people, I chose to compare myself with Kimberly Garland. The incarnation of a super mom. She was known as a successful CEO at a technological company. Mom of three and recently divorced. She always shows up to school activities, no matter what. And not only that, she actively participates, whether cooking, taking care of the ornaments and decorations, or whatever it needed.

How could you compete to that?

“And do you think that no being like her is a bad thing?” Spencer asked me.

Did I believe that? Perhaps I did.

“Maybe it is. Don’t you think Liv deserves a mom like that? Or you a girlfriend like that? I saw you talking to her today, and I couldn't stop thinking she could offer more than I could.”

It hurt to say those words out loud, but they were the ones plaguing my thoughts at the time.

Spencer's face softened. Great, now I'm sure he felt pity for me.

“She can’t. Kimberly or whoever you’re comparing to. You're an excellent mom, (Y/N). And the best girlfriend I can ask for," Spencer stated now strocking my cheek.

I felt silly making a fuss but the insecurities were there. I couldn't help it. The embarrasment made me downcast my gaze to the floor.

“My sweet girl. Look at me, please," he asked, tilting my chin up. I did so, my cheeks turning red under his gaze.

“Olivia is a lucky little girl, you know? She has the best mom in the world. A mom who loves her and would do whatever it takes so she can be happy and safe. Who cares if you can’t be in all those school activities? Not her, because she knows you love her. It doesn't matter if you are not a company CEO. You have your job, and thanks to that our daughter has had everything she needs. You took care of her alone in her first years. On top of that, you have always sought her well-being and happiness. You let me be in her life even after I hurt you years ago. I will always be grateful that you did,” he said, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear.

“She deserves having her father around,” I pointed. It was a decision that I made when we spoke again after Olivia’s kidnapping. Although my hurt feelings, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father if he genuinely wanted to be in her life. Our problems as adults didn't have to be a problem for her.

“And she deserves the wonderful mom she has,” Spencer declared, kissing my forehead. I blushed at the compliment.

“Now, regarding this relationship,” he began pointing between the two of us. “You have nothing to worry about. They don't stand a chance, and you know why? Because they don't even compare to the most beautiful, smart and brave person I've ever met. Who owns a small bookstore downtown, and my heart. The woman I fell in love with the moment I saw her—the mother of my child. Who gave this idiot a chance to be in her life again even when he didn't deserve it. They are not you, my sweet girl. They will never be, and that's why I could never even look at them the way I look at you.“

Fuck Spencer Reid and his ability with words.

“You mean it?” I asked tentatively. Still unsure if he was being serious.

“Of course I mean it. I’m here for the long run, and I hope someday - sooner or later - we can take the next step. I want everything with you, (Y/N), but I’ll go at your pace. I promise.”

I couldn't help the giggles that left my lips.

Could love make you this way? I felt lighter and confident. Spencer's words made me see that I have no reason to sulk that way.

“Keep talking like that, and you'll get the world, Dr. Reid," I stated, now wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled.

“I don't need to get it. I already have it with you,” he said, giving a peck to my nose.

"You're a sap," I teased.

"And you love it,” he added, leaning down to kiss me. I happily obliged and kissed him back, tightening my grasp on his neck. His hands planted on my hips to keep me steady.

The kiss deepened, and only we parted when the need for air was too much.

He looked at me with a devilish smirk on his face.

“You know?” he started, kissing my cheek and then my jaw. “There is only one bedframe I would rather be tied to right now. And there is only one person I wish would do indescribable things to me as I’m tied up at her mercy,” he whispered in my ear, and immediately, I felt shivers down my spine.

“Spencer, don’t. That's not helping,” I mumbled with my eyes fluttering shut.

“Isn’t it? Why? Are you thinking about it right now?” He teased. The bastard knew what he was doing. “You would like to see me all tied up, waiting for my sweet girl to do what she wants? Would you like to be in control and show those moms who own me?” he asked, as his lips left traces of kisses on my neck. His hot breath was hitting on my skin and making my desire grow.

“Spencer,” I moaned, lost in his words and eager for his touch.

"Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything," he whispered in my ear, hands running down my sides, giving me goosebumps.

“You. I want you.” Those words left my lips like a prayer—the utter confession of desire and pent-up tension. Spencer grunted.

“You already have me. I’m yours,” he murmured, pulling up the hem of my shirt, so his hands could sneak under to feel my skin.

“And I’m yours. Totally yours. But I need to feel you,” I confessed. I was so lost in his touch and starved for more.

Spencer understood the meaning of my words, so he kissed me hungrily, walking us backward in the direction of my room.

That night Spencer proved to me, with kisses, caresses, and words of adoration, that my insecurities were unfounded. It's true that I'm not like Kimberly Garland, but I don't have to be. I have a daughter whom I adore and who

loves me, a job that fills me with satisfaction, and a boyfriend that I love and who does an excellent job of showing me how valuable and loved I can be.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99

[veronicaphoenix]

Series: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits | masterpost Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader x Oliver Sykes

Hearts Like Ours. Additional multipart. Chapter 2: The Angel of Death | Words: 8k Summary: The morning after her breakdown, Reader does not expect to get any better until a certain person unexpectedly appears at her front door.

Tags and trigger warnings: established polyamorous relationship, angst, hard truths, anxiety, mentions of parent's negligence, comfort/fluff, noah only appears on phone in this part but he's mentioned throughout the entirety of the chapter, soft!oli, mentions of blowjobs, sexual content (spit used as lubricant, p. in v., protected).

Author’s note: this is mostly self-indulgent so bear with me, i love softness 🥹 It's also another attempt at writing something short and ending up with 8k 🫠 Regarding tags, I'm trying something new and tagging everybody down below in the comment section, given that as of lately a few people have reached out to tell me they didn't get the notification and I've read somewhere that tags indeed are not working well. So let's see if this does the trick.

When she woke up the next morning, her neck and stomach ached, a remainder that she had skipped dinner the night before. Sitting up, the two shirts she had slept with clung to her and then fell to the floor, reminding her why she had chosen to sleep on the sofa instead of the bed. She was alone. Noah wouldn’t be home for another three days, and Oliver was lost somewhere in the southern United States.

            It was Saturday. How was she supposed to spend the entire day alone at home, with no work and no one around? She felt even more pathetic than she had the night before. What was happening to her? She hadn’t always been this dependent; she hadn’t always felt this miserable. 

            But then again, it wasn’t every day that your mother hurled insults at you and made you feel dirty in a way that was far from the real thing. 

            She ran her hands over her face. If only Luna were here... Given her age, Oliver had decided not to bring her to America, and now his father, Ian, was taking care of her. 

            Last year, they had talked about adopting a dog, mostly so she would have company when the boys were away, but with work and the idea of getting married, adoption had been pushed aside. Now she regretted not insisting more.

            Still holding the shirts, she went upstairs and made a quick trip to the bathroom, overwhelmed by another wave of misery as she caught sight of herself in the mirror—eyes swollen from yesterday’s crying and her face as pale as a ghost. The sight of Noah’s and Oliver’s toiletries—their toothbrushes, shaving cream, face wash from different brands, a facemask Oliver had recently got from Lush…—only deepened her sadness. 

            Her deep sigh echoed in the empty space. 

            She had to eat something and get out of the house, get some sun and fresh air. She’d told Jack she would visit Sylvie, but the truth was she didn’t feel like it. She was happy for them. She was going to be an aunt. But she was feeling so blue that, she knew if she met Sylvie, both would end up crying, for totally different reasons.  

            So, she opted to tidy up and spend the day cleaning. That’s one of the things Noah used to do whenever his mind was not in the right place. 

            Before breakfast, she checked her phone, tempted to message the boys and tell them she was going through hell, that she couldn’t silence the voices in her head —especially her mother’s— and that she needed them because she felt like she was sinking. She wanted to swim to the surface but felt like she had a rock tied to her ankle, and she would probably drag herself to the bottom before they came home. 

            She hated being aware of the self-destruction her own mind subjected her to and not being able to do anything to stop it. It was a battle against herself that she couldn’t win. A battle she had fought before, and although it seemed she had won many times, those demons always came back sooner or later. 

            In the end, she just let Noah and Oliver know she was awake and, to distract them, sent a couple of photos of her underwear abandoned on the floor when she changed into somehting more decent. She knew that spending the whole day in pajamas would only worsen her state. 

            In the kitchen, she made herself a cup of tea and something to eat. 

            After having lunch on the back porch and letting herself be caressed by the sun in one of the hammocks, she went back inside, ready to spend the next few hours watching a comforting movie on the couch. Or perhaps an angsty one, and cry a few more tears. What did it matter now?

            She remembered then she hadn’t picked up the mail for the past four or five days. A mix of excitemend and dread flooded her at the thought that maybe Oliver had sent a postcard from wherever he was, even if it was just from somewhere else in the country. He’d started doing that the previous year, and it was a sweet gesture that always warmed her heart. 

            Stepping outside, she found her neighbor Marina tending to her plants and flowers in the front yard, a lovely married woman in her forties with two children. They greeted each other, and Marina asked about the boys. She replied that there were still a few days left before they returned, and Marina, probably sensing her sadness, kindly suggested joining her at her house any afternoon for tea. It was a comforting gesture, though still far from the kind she truly wanted.

            With only a couple of letter in her hands and no postcard from Oliver, she made her way back to the front door, only taking a couple of steps before the sound of a car pulling into the driveway and stopping made her turn around. The sight of the black Range Rover made her heart flip and almost lose her balance.  

            Oliver stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him without taking his eyes off her. During the short walk toward her, his green gaze remained steady and unwavering. He wore casual jeans and a t-shirt, exuding calm determination. 

            Before she could even react, he was in front of her, gently holding her face in his hands, and then he kissed her. 

            Her hands instinctively moved to his chest, her right one still clutching the envelopes. However she could, her fingers gripped his black tee tightly, as if fearing he might disappear at any moment. 

            His mouth was warm, his kiss passionate and urgent. She was left nearly breathless. 

            When she finally lowered herself from standing on her tiptoes and opened her eyes, her heart was pounding wildly.

            “What are you doing here?” she managed to say, it being the only coherent thought she could muster. In truth, she didn’t care about the answer. It was enough that he was there in the flesh.

            Oliver let out a sardonic smile. “Hello to you too, love,” he said, poking her nose. “Where am I supposed to be when my girl needs me?” 

            His words stunned her for a few seconds as he took her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. 

            Of course, it had to be Jack who told him. 

            “But—What about the tour? How did you get here so fast?” She asked, still gripping his t-shirt with one hand. 

            “We’d better go inside,” he suggested, nodding towards the house next door where Marina was watching them absently as she trimmed the dried leaves from her plants. Oliver waved at her, asking how she was with the easy charm of a gentleman. 

            Marina would have chatted for quite a while, likely making mention of his girl’s mood and asking Oliver the very questions she wanted answers to. But Oliver, sensing this, skillfully dissuaded her in less than thirty seconds, practically dragging his girl inside the house. 

            Once inside, with the door closed behind them, she dropped the letters on a small table in the entryway and threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears on the spot. 

            Having Oliver there, being able to hold him, inhale his masculine scent mingled with his perfume, and feel the brush of his long hair against her cheeks, felt like a miracle.

            “Please, don’t go.”

            “Love, I just got here.”

            “I know, but I’m sure you’ll have to leave again in a couple of hours.”

            With a resigned sigh, Oliver took her hand and guided them both into the living room, settling onto the couch. 

            Oliver observed her silently for a moment, studying her face for signs of the previous day’s tears and the sleepless night. They were all there, all too evident. 

            He gently stroked her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, savoring the moment, the warmth of his skin against hers. 

            “I can stay until tomorrow night,” Oliver murmured softly. “As soon as Jack called me, I booked the first available flight out of Houston. We have two days off until the next show. I have to be in Kansas City the day after tomorrow. But please, don’t worry about that now. What the hell happened?” 

            She struggled before mustering the courage to tell him. 

            She began with a vague summary of the events, but Oliver insisted on the details, wanting to know every word her mother had spoken. 

            She watched as he clenched his jaw, holding back a torrent of curses. 

            As a few more tears traced down her cheeks, Oliver gently pulled her into his embrace and fetched a box of tissues from a nearby coffee table. 

            “Why didn’t you wait until Noah and I were back?” He questioned, watching her wipe her tears. “We said we’d tell her together, precisely to avoid this,” he said, not intending to scold her but clearly unsettled by her decision to face her mother alone. 

            “I know, but I couldn’t shake the thought, and I didn’t want her saying anything hurtful to you, so I thought I could handle it on my own,” she confessed, sniffling into the tissue then dropping it on the coffee table.

            “And did it do you any good?” Oliver asked, his tone soft, his gaze tender as he peered at her. 

            “No,” she replied, shaking her head, defeated. “It just made everything worse. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours feeling miserable and missing you both terribly. Last night, I felt like I couldn’t breathe without you guys around. I just wanted to protect you…” she trailed off, her voice heavy. 

            “I know,” Oliver murmured, gently touching her face again. “But we protect each other, don’t we? We’re stronger together. If Noah and I feel low, we lean on you, and you make us feel better. That’s how it works. You have to let us do the same, doll. It’s taking you too long to get rid of this habit.” 

            She sighed, but she knew he was right. 

            “If you keep everything to yourself, then what’s the point of this? Of us? Of being in any relationship, for that matter?” Oliver continued, his eyes reflecting her own sadness. “We’re together because we love each other, and by love I mean that we’re by each other’s side under any circumstance. Loving us is not just you giving me and Noah blowjobs and letting us have our ways with you, baby. Loving us means you’ll let us know when you’re anxious, when you’re sad or angry. You’ll let us help you because we want and we love every part of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Wasn’t that clear?” 

            His words made her feel terrible, very aware of her mistakes, but she deserved it. If anything, to at least make her understand for once and for all that she had to lay her head on their shoulders whenever she needed, without a second of hesitation. 

            “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just hard… because loving also implies that you don’t want the other person to get hurt, and all I was doing was…” she trailed off. There was no point. Her voice turned into a whisper and then into desperation fading into nothing. 

            Oliver squeezed her hand and placed it on his thigh, speaking gently.

            “Listen, I know this is hard to accept, but you don’t owe anything to your mother,” he began. “Our parents made us, but we’re not meant for them. You’re meant for me and Noah. Everything else, everyone else, is just a bystander to your story. You can’t force them to be a part of your life if they don’t want to, darling. It sucks. It fucking sucks because sometimes you want people to be part of your life so bad… but they don’t want to be; they don’t want to share your happiness, they might not even understand it, and that’s okay.” When he saw her face, Oliver chuckled softly. “I’m not saying that the things your mom said were okay, but you get my point. You’re not meant to live your life by your mom’s wishes or follow in her footsteps. You don’t have to walk with her. You’re walking with Noah and me.”

            Seen that way, from that perspective, Oliver was undeniably right. 

            She had spent much of her life trying to please her mother, striving to be a perfect daughter even when she wasn’t consciously aware of it. Since formalizing her relationship with Noah and Oliver, she had come to realize how many decisions she had made in the past with her mother in mind rather than herself. And now, with her mother’s rejection of her relationship with the boys, all that weight came crashing down on her.  

            Her mother didn’t want her, didn’t want a daughter like her. But as a parent, there’s only so much control one can have. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult, and she had done nothing wrong. She had simply fallen in love. Hard and twice.

            Loving wasn’t a crime, and as much as it pained her not to be able to share that happiness with her mother, as much as her mother couldn’t see how happy Oliver and Noah made her, she realized that her attempts to make her mother understand had to come to an end. After all, Oliver’s words spoke the truth: the most important people were the two of them, her fiancés.  

            Staring at the ring on her finger as realization dawned on her, she was filled with profound sadness. She had lost her father long ago, a man who had chosen to go his own way, unable to wait until his children were old enough to let them walk their own path and make their own decisions. And now, she felt she had lost her mother, too. 

            One parent had not waited to see her grow up; had not held her hand as she learned to walk the path of life. The other one was unwilling to see her walk hand in hand with two men. 

            Tears welled up in her eyes once more before she could stop them. She was a mess. 

            “I know it hurts,” Oliver’s voice soothed her, his hand running gently throught her hair, “but you gotta let it hurt until it doesn’t anymore. There are some things we cannot change, and this, I’m afraid, is one of them, baby.”

            Seeking solace, she moved to straddle him, unable to bear the distance anymore. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head on his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks and staining Oliver’s tee’s fabric. She let him envelop her in his embrace, pressing herself against his body as he held her close. He placed a couple of tender kisses on her shoulder and neck, offering her the comfort she needed. 

            She remained in his arms for a while, relishing the warmth of his body, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against her own, and the security of being in his arms. His whispered words of comfort in her ear were like a balm to her troubled soul. 

            She could easily drift off to sleep there, cocooned in his arms , feeling grateful that Oliver had dropped everything just to come home and be with her. 

            “Did you tell Noah?” She whispered, her lips brushing against his neck as she resisted the urge to move even an inch away from him. 

            “Yes, of course I did,” he replied, his hand finding the hem of her shirt and sneaking in to rub her back. She was soft as silk and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the feel of her skin under his hands every single day and night he spent away. “But I want you to call him and talk to him. He’s worried.”

            The sigh that escaped her this time was heavy. 

            “What?” Oliver said, teasing her. “Did you think that picture of your underwear on the bedroom floor was going to do the trick?” 

            She shrugged, not particularly caring. 

            “Come on,” he encouraged, pullling out his iPhone, resolute on not extending that dispiriting situation any second longer. “He might still be up.”

            Without a chance to compose herself or check her appearance in the mirror, Oliver was already Facetiming Noah. 

            As soon as Noah’s face appeared on the screen, looking all cozied up in a hoddie and sat on his hotel bed, he saw her curled up in Oliver’s lap, her head resting on his shoulder with her tear-stained face, and his expression fell. Noah clicked his tongue, his brown eyes filling with sadness.

            “Kitten..”

            She tried to hold back another wave of tears and sobs. She sniffled and attempted to smile. But as soon as she uttered “I miss you”, she had to take a moment to steady her breathing and control her sobbing. Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

            A few moments were filled only with her soft crying, then, with some self-control, in the quiet of the house, she began to talk to Noah, recounting every hurtful thing her mother had said.          Instead of feeling tortured by reliving those moments, she focused on the relief of sharing her pain with her boys, feeling lighter now that they knew. 

            Noah did his best to offer comfort from the other end of the line, though he knew it wasn’t a simple fix. He was just grateful that Oliver had rushed home to be with her, knowing that besides words of reassurance, she needed their physical presence.

            Just as much as she needed them, he needed her and Oliver.

            All those nights on the road, sleeping in bunk beds or alone in hotel rooms, had been manageable until he fell in love. Suddenly, sleeping alone felt like a punishment for every misstep in life. He understood her perfectly. And considering what her mother had said… Fuck. All he wanted was to be there for her, to hold her while Oliver comforted her, feeling complete with them by his side.

            It was late where he was, and she could tell from the exhaustion etched in his eyes. Her own state wasn’t helping him at all, so she mustered the strength to encourage him to end the call and get the rest he needed. He promised her he’d be home soon. Just a few more days. Nothing would keep him from coming back home to her. 

            After hanging up, Oliver tenderly touched her face, his thumb stroking the side of her jaw as she breathed against him. 

            “You look tired, too,” he remarked.

            “I didn’t sleep much last night,” she admitted. 

            “Want to take a nap? I could use one myself,” he suggested. 

            With a nod, she attempted to rise from his lap, but Oliver shook his head. He grabbed a folded blanket from the sectional and urged her to lay down as he nestled in beside her, letting her find a comfortable position with her head on his chest and her legs intertwined with his. 

            He enveloped her and covered them both with the blanket. He kissed her hair tenderly and she reciprocated by pressing a kiss to his clavicle. After exchanging whispered “I love yous”, she finally allowed herself to drift off to sleep, comforted by the presence of at least one of her boys being home. 

Despite his own exhaustion after an impromptu flight and the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours, Oliver found it difficult to fall assleep. He waited until her soft breathing indicated she was in a deep slumber before carefully disentangling himself from her arms and legs.

            Ensuring she was covered with the blanket, he tiptoed to the kitchen, where he leaned with his forearms against the cool marble tiles of the island as he unlocked his phone and texted Noah. 

            Oliver: Still up?

            Noah: Yep. Can’t sleep.          

            Without a second thought, he dialed his number, making sure to keep his voice low as to avoid waking her up. By the time he had filled a glass with water, Noah’s voice was on his ear. 

            “What’s up? Is she feeling any better?” Noah asked.

            “She’s passed out on the sofa,” Oliver informed him after taking a sip. “But she looks tired, and sad,” he continued, glancing towards the open hallway door that lead to the living room, as if he could see her. He could picture her gloomy features from before she’d fallen asleep. “How about you coming back earlier? Could you make it?” He asked, aware of the significant distance separating them. Noah was in Europe, not just a few states away. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could make it, give her a surprise, cheer her up… She doesn’t just need me. She needs both of us. And,” he made a pause before changing his tone, “you owe me a blowjob.”

            “I don’t owe you a blowjob,” Noah replied, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t send those tacos, man.”

            “I’ll drive you to the damn restaurant.”

            “Needy, huh?”

            “Very. I want to see you before I hit the road again,” he admitted, then softened again. “She needs you here, Noah. Think you can make it earlier than scheduled?”

            “Yeah, yeah…” he trailed off, as if preoccupied with something else. Oliver heard the clicking of a keyboard, muffled in the background. “I was actually just checking flights…”

            “Oh, good.”

            “The first one is in three hours. I could catch that one and—”

            “In three hours?” Oliver exclaimed, furrowing his brow. “Dude, get some sleep first. I didn’t mean for you to—”

            “I can’t sleep knowing she’s upset because of what her mom said to her,” Noah retorted, setting his MacBook aside and getting up from the bed. “We have a couple of interviews scheduled for tomorrow, but I’ll ask Jolly and Folio to handle them. I’m nearly done with my packing, so I can head to the airport in less than twenty minutes. If I catch that flight, I can make it home tomorrow before evening.”

            “Fuck. Okay. That’s great. It’ll give us a few hours together.” 

            “Yeah, just come pick me up at the airport, all right?” he concluded. “Keep her distracted with something. Tell her you’re going to get a haircut.”

            “Dude, she’s going to be glued to me the whole time because I’m leaving tomorrow night. And a haircut? That would be the lamest excuse after I left my own tour to be home with her. You have the worst ideas,” he complained as he shook his head. “Can you not get an Uber?” 

            “Just come pick me up,” Noah said, resolute, “and you’ll get that damn blowjob.” 

An hour and a half later, her voice calling out for Oliver echoed through the walls of the house’s ground floor. 

            Oliver appeared at the threshold of the archway into the living room, holding a tray with pastries and two mugs of hot chocolate.

            She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes with one hand still half-covered by the fluffy blanket. Oliver struggled to decide if she looked adorable or too tempting to resist making love to her right there on the sofa.  

            “Am I dreaming?” She mumbled, prompting Oliver to let out a chuckle. 

            “Nah,” he replied, walking towards her. “These croissants were frozen. I thought Noah got rid of them after his lecture on how unhealthy and useless it is to buy frozen food, but surprise: he didn’t. So now I get to treat you,” he finished, setting the tray next to her. The smell of freshly baked croissants and hot chocolate filled her senses, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. 

            She gave him a tiny smile. 

            “Just don’t tell him I baked them for us,” Oliver added, his tone hushed, as if Noah was there and could hear them. He had changed into more comfortable clothes and was now wearing a white t-shirt and dark grey sweatpants she had washed and ironed more than two weeks ago.

            “I will tell him,” she whispered, with a hint of mischief in her voice. Her sleepy face, however, made her look more adorable than mischievous.  

            Oliver rolled his eyes. “He’ll make me wear the maid costume and cook homemade sugar-free croissants for him as punishment.”

            “You look adorable in that, though,” she commented, grabbing one of the croissants and using her other hand to catch the crumbs.  

            “Do I, now?”

            She nodded, her mouth already stuffed with a big bite. Oliver smiled and touched the corner of her lower lip, wiping away a crumb with his thumb. 

            “Feeling any better?”

            Swallowing, she nodded. 

            “What do you feel like doing?” he asked, still concerned. He had dropped everything to be home with her, so he would only do as she pleased. “Movie and cuddles?” he guessed. “We can take it easy and spend the rest of the day snuggled in here. We don’t have to go anywhere. We’ll order takeout for dinner, then maybe a hot bath before bed.”

            She absorbed his words, blinking and chewing slowly.

            That sounded like… Heaven. 

            Instead of quickly agreeing to his appeal, which was irresistible, she asked, “What time do you have to be at the airport tomorrow?” There was a note of anguish in her voice because she dreaded the answer. She just wanted him to stay for a while longer, to extend that dreamlike weekend that was, in fact, her real life. 

            “Not ‘til late at night. We have the entire day together tomorrow, don’t worry,” he reassured her again, taking his mug of hot chocolate to his lips. She watched as the dark brown liquid touched his lips and how his own tongue licked them clean afterward. “Let’s choose a movie and get comfy, yeah?”

            The next fifteen minutes slipped away as they struggled to decide on a movie. By the time they settled on one neither had seen, the croissants were gone and Oliver had finished his chocolate. They cuddled through the entire film, occasionally shifting positions, playing with each other’s hair, and kissing. They made comments about the movie and chatted about he film and other trivial things. 

            By the time the sun began to set on the horizon, the house was enveloped in the serenity their nearly routine evening. She was in the living room, tidying up the small mess they had made, folding blankets, and arranging the cushions on the sofa. Meanwhile, Oliver busied himself in the kitchen, plating the takeaway food that had arrived just minutes before. 

            If Noah had been there, he would have been nearing his time out in the studio. Then he would’ve joined oliver in the kitchen to set the table. 

            That was a familiar routine, which happened at least once a week, usually on Fridays, marking the start of a long weekend where work was left behind and their time was fully devoted to each other. 

            Whenever the three of them were engrossed in individual tasks, especially in the afternoon or evening, the house exuded a peaceful ambiance. Sometimes, Noah would light incense and play relaxing background music as they went about their activities. If they crossed paths in the hallway or in any other room, Noah would grab her waist and pull her in for a kiss. If he encountered Oliver, she would hear a sweet exchange of words and laughs between them from the other room. 

            It was lovely, what they had built. A precious home and a beautiful family. 

             After filling their stomachs and clearing up the kitchen, Oliver urged her upstairs for a well-deserved hot bath, but she declined, stating that she prefered the shower. 

            As mesmerizing as the idea of a hot bath sounded, the reality was that, despite their efforts to get a larger-than-average tub for the master bedroom’s bathroom, Oliver was too tall to fit comfortably if she was also inside. What to say about Noah? He just outright hated bathtubs and found it a waste of space. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fit in with either of them; he simply couldn’t fit comfortably on his own.

            After some persuasion, she finally found herself naked under the hot shower, with Oliver’s bare body behind her, his hands massaging shampoo into her hair. The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the familiarity of the shampoo the three of them shared. 

            They took turns washing each other, making sure to apply a bit of pressure here and there to relieve sore muscles, especially Oliver’s, strained from days of performing on stage for over two hours and getting to bed late. The physical demands of his routine weren’t always ideal, but she appreciated how they had toned his body over the years, giving him strenght and stamina. She relished his manly physique, a mix of rough and soft areas that she found squishy. She just loved every part of him. 

            When he got down on one knee to soap up her thighs, she took the opportunity to wash his hair, enjoying the sweetness that spread through her veins and to her heart when he pressed a few kisses from her navel down to her lower belly. 

            After they were thoroughly washed, Oliver rinsed his hair under the water one last time, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, lips parted, neck exposed and muscles on display as he moved his hair back with both hands. 

            As attractive as the sight was —which, under other circumstances, would have just gotten her on her knees, and not exactly to wash his thighs—, the part of her that craved a deeper connection took control. She wanted a closeness that went beyond the physical act of giving each other pleasure. 

            She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek to his chest, acutely aware of the ticking clock and the precious time slipping away from them.  

            Oliver didn’t say anything. He kept the water running and hugged her back, resting his chin atop her head. The mirror above the sink and the window overlooking the garden had fogged up, and the vapor was filling the room even though they had left the door open.

            Minutes passed, the water turning cold, droplets hitting the tiles, her breaths soft and steady, following the rhythm of Oliver’s heartbeat. When she lazily ran her fingers down his back and wandered down to one of his buttocks, she felt him shiver slightly, and her curse nearly disrupted their peace. 

            “You’re cold,” she pointed out, peering up at him. 

            “It’s okay, love.”

            But it wasn’t. Taking his hand, she turned off the water and pulled them out of the shower, handing Oliver his towel while she grabbed hers. 

            Oliver wasn’t done soothing her. He let her dry herself up and brush her hair. He left the bathroom for a couple of minutes to get some underwear, finding another one of Noah’s boxers in his drawer. Instead of pointing it out to her and reminding her that the boxers with the chibi drawings of Titan were Noah’s, he laughed and opted to keep them there. He would enjoy watching Noah huff and rummage through his own underwear looking for those specific boxers when he returned. 

            Returning to the bathroom only wearing black boxers, his wair still wet and dripping, he used the towel to dry it a bit before discarding it on the floor and refocusing his attention on his girl. She was occupied checking her eyebrows in the mirror, a habit he found amusing because he could never understand what she thought was wrong with them. Taking advantage of her distraction, he poured some hydrating lotion into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and kneeled to spread the cream on her thighs. 

            She let out a cry of surprise at the sudden cold sensation, but quickly adjusted to it and found herself enamored with the way he looked up at her as he massaged her body once more, tenderly applying lotion to her skin. The smell of lavender filled the room as he stood up to gently smooth it onto her shoulders, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles. She was truly getting spoiled as his touch traced the contours of her arms and back, each caress a silent promise of his love and devotion. She closed her eyes when she felt threathened by another wave of emotion and gratitude. She wouldn’t be hard on herself again and say that she didn’t deserve him, or Noah, but the truth was that they were too good to her, and her heart kept on swelling every time they shared a simple yet intimate moment as such.

            “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her cheeks red—perhaps from shyness or perhaps because it was too hot in the bathroom.  

            “Shh. I love pampering you, and that’s why I’m here now. In two weeks I’ll be back to busy boyfri—fiancé, sorry, mode, with no time to shower with his loves because the artist’s life is a twenty-four hour job. So, rejoice,” he finished the sentence by touching her nose and leaving a stain of cream for her to spread.

            She muttered an “ouch” and glared at him, nearly pouting at the truth of his words. 

            While that had been an isolated scenario and the timing of both bands’ tours had coincided leaving her alone for quite a long period of time, she couldn’t really complain about her job or about her life in the big picture. She was as happy as any girl could be with two men loving her unconditionally day and night, which made her aware that if somedays they were not attentive as she wished, it wasn’t because they chose to be distant. It was their demanding jobs, so different from her mundane one. Their careers sometimes took a toll on them, but it was a sacrifice they made for something they loved, and she admired them for it. They were passionate and dedicated, as they were with her, too. She would never ask them to prioritize her over their bands because they themselves knew when to put a stop to it and get their feet back on solid ground. It was sometimes a difficult balance to navigate, but with each other’s help, they knew how to make it work without letting it consume them anymore. 

            Her eyes followed Oliver as he walked barefoot to the other side of the bedroom, heading towards the drawer where he would find his worn-out clothes for sleeping. She watched with a tender expression as a smile appeared on his face when he spotted how neatly his t-shirts and sweats were stored in the drawer. As mundane and tedious as the task of folding clothes may seem, it was something both of them enjoyed doing together every once in a while—seated on the carpeted floor, picking up each item from the laundry basket and adding it to one of the three piles next to them: Oliver’s, Noah’s, and hers. 

            Folding clothes was sort of a meditation, and given that she had spent the last weekends alone, one of them had been dedicated to reorganizing the cupboards and drawers, including refolding all those clothes that had been thrown to the back of the cupboard. 

            She could have stared at Oliver for hours, but the clock would still keep ticking. 

            Licking her lips and rubbed the heel of her left foot on her right calf, her expression fell a little as she called out to him. 

            “Yeah?” He asked. 

            “Make love to me?”

            Her voice came out as a whisper, a plea that he didn’t understand, for she didn’t have to ask for that. Ever. So he nearly laughed, but aware that maybe it wasn’t the best reaction, he dropped back into the drawer the clothes he had picked and walked to her, with determined strides, his green eyes focused on her as if nothing could make him look away.

            “Did you even consider I wouldn’t intend to?”

            Uncertainty clouded her eyes, but her hand released the corner of the towel she had secured atop her chest, letting the only fabric covering her body fall to the floor.

            Oliver’s gaze fell to her breasts, and then down below, as if he hadn’t seen that same beautiful body, those edges and curves, merely five minutes ago.

            She parted her lips to speak, to ask him to touch her, but Oliver was quicker. He picked her up in his arms, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. She stared down at him for a few seconds, struck by the light those green eyes contained, how much power to turn someone’s life into something beautiful with just one look. 

            Oliver carried her to bed. He laid her down on the mattress, her head propped up on the  numerous pillows that Noah, ever the minimalist, didn’t understand. In a matter of seconds, Oliver discarded his boxers and crawled up to cover her body with his. Holding his weight on hands and knees, he bent his head down and kissed her, her hand sneaking up to the back of his head and tangling in his curls, still damp from the shower and with the lingering scent of the shampoo.

            The kiss was hungry, desperate, wet. She kept pulling him down to her, as if she could do more than just kiss him; as if she could just drink him in, swallow him, keep him in her heart forever. 

            He already was. 

            His hand pushed at one of her knees, silently instructing her to open her legs for him. When she complied, he touched her folds, his fingers navigating her delights just for a couple of seconds before sinking two fingers inside of her, letting her wrap around his digits with welcoming warmth.

            Her hips arched towards him. 

            “What do you want, love? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” he murmured.

            “Just you,” she sighed, knowing that he would always keep his promises.

             Skipping foreplay, he removed his fingers from inside of her and sat back on his heels, asking her for a condom that she retrieved from one of the drawers on the other side of the bed. He put it on, then spat on his hand and covered her core with his saliva before leaning over her again, fusing his body with hers, one inch at a time. 

            He loved how her breath caught in her throat with every movement, every push in. Her eyes widened and her expression contorted into one of pleasure.

            When he was finally settled in to the hilt, he sought her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers before placing their hands above her head, on the pillows.

            He began to move. A delicate, sweet and hot cadence. 

            He understood that this time it was not just about pleasure; it was about the connection that having their bodies merged brought to each other. It was about finding peace and safety in the vulnerable state of offering yourself to the other, about the relief that it brought to her —and him— knowing they had found each other in this massive universe and that nothing else mattered at the time. 

            Just him, her, and the ghost of Noah, the lingering scent of him that still permeated his side of the bed, on the sheets that she had refused to change after they had left.

            They kissed. Oliver swallowed her moans, relished in the way her nails dug onto his back, the way her thighs pressed him to her, the way she breathed him in and held him, wordlessly telling him she would never let him go. 

            Making love like that focused on the fire of their sexual energy, their passion, and desire, and let those align with their hearts and souls with every thrust and every cry in response. It brought them balance and harmony. It was something beyond the drive and rush experienced any other time, yet someething they needed all the same. 

            That night, she needed that, the slow pace, the eye-contact, and he didn’t mind. How could he? He was benefiting from it all the same. 

            Ever since Noah introduced them to this slower, more mindful practice, Oliver’s connection with both of them had deepened, and it had brought him closer to them (if that was even possible).

            Lost in the passage of time, Oliver whimpered against her, his breaths ragged as he penetrated her over and over and as he looked down at her expression, her eyes closed because she was getting close, her mouth agape in pure bliss, little sweet and honeyed sounds coming out in waves, music to his ears. 

            A few thrusts grew harder and rougher unintentionally, and she moaned loudly, trying to supress a scream by biting onto his arms, right onto the inked angel of death that adorned his skin.  One of his hands cupped her breast, squeezing and rolling her nipple between two fingers, giving her just the touch she needed. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, but his voice reached her ears as he told her he was about to come and needed to feel her climaxing around him, too. 

            The seconds that followed were intense, but not very loud. He spasmed inside of her at the same time that she arched to him, their hips meeting. They rode each other’s orgasms, and the mattress welcomed the dead weight of their exhausted and sated bodies a while after. 

            The bliss that came after that moment gave way to a heavy, contented silence filled with the heady and comforting fragance of sex. 

            Oliver’s body pressed down on her, just a tad sweaty, but she found her sanctuary in his embrace, only imperfect due to the missing weight pressing on her from the other side.  

            “Thank you,” she whispered after she removed some hair from her face and brushed her lips against Oliver’s stubbled chin. Her thighs trembled a little after she let them fall on the mattress, on either side of Oliver’s legs.

            “Always,” he replied, tickling her cheek with his wild strands of hair and tracing a path of kisses down her jaw and neck until he could taste her nipple in his mouth. A moment later, he was back at her mouth, his large hand cupping her cheek, his words seeking reassurance of her well-being. 

            She sighed for what felt a long time. Her fingers, in the meantime, weaved into his damp hair, holding him close. The weight of his body on hers felt grounding, a reminder that he was there, real and solid. His presence and the feeling of him filler her, from the spot between her legs to her heart and soul, was a balm to her frayed nerves, soothing away the remnants of her ealier distress.

            But still. Something was missing. Someone.

            “I’m still upset,” she admitted after a breather from his kiss. She didn’t want to say it right after they made love, but she knew Oliver would understand. That’s what that entire day had been about: her understanding that he would listen, try to comprehend, and never ever diminish fer feelings and emotions. 

            “Why?” he asked. Their voices mere whispers in the night, in a room that also seemed to miss Noah’s presence. “Is it because I have to leave? Doll, Noah will be here in no time.”

            “I know… I’m so happy that you’re here, that you came for me…” Her eyes had wandered down, slightly conflicted at her complaint. “But I want you both,” she confessed, loking back up at him. It wasn’t much of a confession because he already knew that. That had actually been the truth that had got them three together in the first place, the confession to Noah that had urged him to find Oliver and propose to him to share the girl of their dreams in the middle of a tour in the UK. 

            “I miss him, too,” Oliver reminded her, palming her hair, his cock still inside of her. He wouldn’t leave the warmth of her body until she asked him to. Missing Noah was one of the things he hated the most in their relationship. Sometimes they spent months without seeing each other. Oliver would come home and Noah would have left the day before, keeping them on opposite schedules. That was why last year, Oliver had tried to get Bad Omens to play in the same summer festivals as Bring Me The Horizon, so that at least they could be together after their performances and while traveling from one country to another, sparing the enormous pain of coming back home to realize the other wasn’t there yet. 

            It felt relieveing to share that feeling with her. It felt like missing him together took some of the weight off their shoulders. They would lean on each other and wait until Noah was back. Luckily for her —and for him— Noah was now on a flight on his way home, and unbeknownst to her, she would have both his boys home tomorrow, all devoted and willing to kiss the same ground she walked on. 

            “You know what I miss the most about him, actually?” Oliver started to say, his tone a bit more earning and cheerful as he rested his body weight on his elbows and as his fingers moved to reach her ears and start to play with her earrings. 

            “What?”

            “That annoying habit of his of touching my legs with his bare feet under the blanket.”

            Her laugh filled his heart with such relief that he couldn’t even put it into words. He had felt so anguished when Jack called him the day before. All he could think about was how she must have been coping alone after meeting her mother to tell her about the wedding. As Jack spoke to him on the phone, Oliver recalled that night after Jack and Sylvie’s engagement party. Noah and he had tried to make love to her to keep her racing thoughts away from the disastrous first meeting with the woman who would be their mother-in-law, but she had been totally restrained by her anxiety and so upset that they hadn’t been able to calm her down for two days. 

            He didn’t want her to feel like that again, and he knew her state would be even worse now since they weren’t there with her. That’s when he grabbed his phone, wallet, and passport, and headed to the airport. 

             “You know he does that on purpose, right?” she told him, remembering all the times she had been pissed at their antics on either side of the bed. She often found herself squished between their two bodies as Oliver kicked Noah to keep his naked feet away from his calves and Noah pretended to be half asleep while trying to touch him again. In the meantime, she was getting knocked from both sides, suffering Oliver’s kicks and the brush of Noah’s cold feet against her own. “He loves it when you squirm under the sheets.”

            “Of course I know,” oliver admitted. “I’m going to make him pay for it one of these days.”

            “I’d love to see that.”

            Wriggling underneath him, Oliver understood she was getting uncomfortable. 

            He got up only to remove the condom and clean them up a bit, then tucked them both under the covers, letting her find her safety cocoon not on his chest or in the crook of his neck, but on his bicep, which she often mentioned could be used as a pillow. She found exceptional comfort in resting her head against the angel of death tattooed on his arm, his bicep big enough to offer the perfect-sized spot for her to drift into the realm of dreams. 

            The only thing missing was Noah’s arm around her stomach as she lay on her side, keeping her protected from all the evil in the world as he reached over to grab onto Oliver as well, his palm finding his place on Oliver’s hip. 

            They would keep their bodies connected and fall into a peaceful sleep, as if enchanted by a magic they couldn’t see but that was always there, always present in their love for each other.  

CHAPTER 3: THE CROW WITCH - COMING SOON

[ravensinthedaylight]

Baby Bombs

Should I write this multipart fic?

You, Y/N Mason, Victor of the 73rd Hunger Games, had volunteered in place of your sister, Johanna, when it came to going back into the Hunger Games for the Quarter Quell, or as Finnick had called it, 'The Purge of the Victors'. These were less than ideal circumstances, but you just had to stay alive until the rebels came to rescue you. Should be easy, right?

It was the night before the games, meaning it was also the night of the 'tribute' interviews. It was currently District 4's turn, It was onto Finnick, the man you had grown so close to ever since you won your games.

Nobody knew that you loved him. Well, perhaps apart from Johanna. She could read you easier than a book.

"All these women whom you've shared your time with, Finnick." Caesar began "Surely one of them must hold a particularly special place in your heart." All Finnick did was smirk. "Well... yes. But not any of the ones you may think. In fact, we've actually married in secret, right before the games. We wanted our love to be eternal" The crowd all let out loud gasps, many of Finnicks admirers let out groans of anguish at the fact that their dear Finnick Odair was taken. You couldn't help but smirk, however. You could tell that Finnick was playing them all for fools, and it was working.

"Y'know... She and I... have been luckier than most." Finnick went on. "I wouldn't have any regrets at all... if it weren't- if i- if it weren't..." You furrowed your eyebrows. What was he planning?

"If it weren't for what?" Caeser asked.

"If it weren't for the baby." Finnick answered, and your smirk grew just as the audience gasped loudly once more. Eveyone around you seemed shocked, also. But you knew Finnick, you knew how he lied, you knew him as well as you knew yourself.

"And... who would this... lucky girl be, Mr Odair?" Caesar asked.

"Why, Y/N Mason, of course." Finnick replied.

And with that your smirk dropped, just as you saw your face on the big screen. Everyone around you looked.

HUH?!

Please give feedback!

[notyour-valentine]

Valentine's Writings ~ Tommy Shelby Masterlist

[Navigation] [Peaky Blinders Masterlist] [Taglist]

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

I hope you enjoy and would be grateful for any form of feedback.

Multipart/ Series

Go tell the English (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst) - completed

Tommy leaves the field hospital in France with nothing but a trinket and memories of the woman who had given it to him

The Boy in the Window (Tommy Shelby x Reader Series) - completed

(Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy, after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realises that he is in fact very real, rather hungry and quite cold and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby

Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby (Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC Series; Peaky Blinders/Downton Abbey crossover) - in progress

Their births, their families, their lives - their whole worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity.

One Shots

Aboard (Tommy Shelby & Reader Angst)

During one of his house parties, Tommy stumbles upon someone who might know more of the world than he thinks, at least about the world he does not understand

An Understanding (Dad!Tommy Shelby fluff)

As an experienced businessman, Tommy knows that before long an understanding will be reached, even with the toughest of negotiators

Aristos Achaion (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst/Fluff)

Tommy becomes intrigued with a scholar at the library Ada works at, even if he doesn’t know why, even if he sees no point in her work- that is, until he does

A better man (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst/Fluff)

In anger, a young Tommy repeats the rhetoric he has heard at home too many times and immediately regrets it - or: the day Tommy decided to break the cycle.

A Christmas Journey (Tommy Shelby & Reader Fluff)

A Journey back from London in the Christmas Season with his secretary doesn't go as planned

A good man (Tommy Shelby & daughter!Reader Angst)

Tommy's daughter comes home drunk and upset from a night out. Tommy is more than happy to comfort her, not knowing what ruined her night.

A moment's peace (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

Tommy is desperate for a moment's peace

A New Year's Dance (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

It is considered lucky to dance in the New Year as the clock strikes twelve, but how about a dance a few hours later?

A secret, a fear and a hatbox (Dad! Tommy Shelby fluff)

With his wife away, Tommy feels more helpless than ever at the change of behaviour in his children

A thousand reasons and one (Tommy Shelby x Reader fluff)

After more than a decade since her parents had decided to leave Birmingham for a better life across the sea, she wasn’t sure just what she would return to

Because it's there (Tommy Shelby One Shot)

At one of Ada's parties, Tommy has an interesting conversation about the limitations of mankind

Blackberry Stains (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

Some things lingered, like blackberry stains

Blighty One (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

When Tommy gets hurt, time is running out and when his girl steps up, there's nothing he can do about it

Dance with me (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

Three little words, a request with a great many implications

Delilah (Tommy Shelby x Reader Smutish/Angst)

During a party at his house, Tommy becomes enraptured by a beautiful little fool

Don't forget to smile :-) (modern!Tommy & Reader platonic fluff)

Tommy can't think of anything more ridiculous than the cheery messages the Barista keeps scribbling down on his to go coffee cups

False Idol (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

Tommy and his wife have different priorities when it comes to their family, perhaps they've had different priorities for far too long

First Snow (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

Tommy is having regrets about Arrow House - who thought some snow might change his mind.

Haunted (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

In the middle of the night, Tommy's wife seeks him out searching for his warmth and the comfort of his arms

His World (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

When Tommy wants her to join him in his world, she agrees, even if the thought made her skin crawl

Honesty (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

He is the last person she wants to see at her engagement party, and his confessions are the last thing she wants to hear

I can't trust myself (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst/Smut)

What Tommy wants and what he allows himself are two very different things, especially when it comes to her.

I'd do anything to make you stay (Dark!Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

At first little Charlie's caretaker has to leave, then she feels obligated to leave, then she needs to leave only to realise he'll force her to stay

Irene's Delights (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

After Tommy disappears from a party, she goes out to find him

Life is a Cabaret (Tommy Shelby x Reader angst)

Tommy feels trapped by an iron-clad arrangement with a performer that was of his own making

Lockdown Masterpiece (modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader family fluff)

When Tommy takes charge of homeschooling, it goes better than anyone could have ever imagined

No! (Tommy Shelby Angst)

The many times Tommy Shelby should have said no and the one time he wished Charlie wouldn't have.

On the Brink of Winter (Tommy Shelby Angst)

Tommy can't bring himself to join the fair and instead thinks of the summer he missed

Philopator (Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader Angst)

When Michael presents his offer to Tommy for a restructuring of the company, he mentions his daughter - after all, she is already involved, even if Tommy doesn’t know it yet

Pretty (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

They had written endless books, poems and songs to instruct men in the art of giving compliments, but somehow, in all of history, they had forgotten to teach them how to accept them.

Red Lies (Tommy Shelby / Reader Angst/Fluff)

When her brother's friend Tommy hides out in her home, him bleeding on the floorboards becomes the least of her worries as the police comes knocking.

Riot (modern!Tommy Shelby x Ex!Reader Angst)

Tommy's definitions of no strings apparently includes telling his ex which clubs she can and can't go to - so she goes to his to start a riot

The Head of the Snake (Tommy Shelby x wife!reader Angst)

Tommy returns exhausted from a BUF event in the middle of the night, and all he wants is peace. But he finds anything but.

The Prettiest Girls (modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

Who could know that a discussion about sexism and gender roles could bring such truths to the surface?

The Spirits that I summoned (young!Tommy)

Where Arthur sees danger, Tommy sees a quick way to make some money and use people's prejudices against them.

The Thing about Smiles (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

Smiles never came easy to her, and that was harder for some to accept than for others. 

They are all looking (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

During one of Tommy's event, his crowd shy wife gets overwhelmed.

Together (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff/Smut)

Tommy's wife gets bored during a weekend retreat with one of his many business partners.

To Measure Pain (Tommy Shelby Angst)

Tommy visits a home for injured veterans with a lot of money and a great deal expectations.

Solicitation (modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Mr Thomas Shelby was the most aggrevating client she had ever seen, testing the limits of her professionalism.

Steady (Tommy Shelby x male!Reader Fluff)

 When (Y/N) can't figure out a mistake in the accounts, his stress and fatigue get the better of him. He didn't expect any help, least of all from Tommy Shelby.

Strawberry Red (Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst)

After two years, Tommy reunites with Grace, but the same things that once intrigued him, do the opposite now (possible continuation to Blackberry Stains)

Well Spoken (Tommy Shelby x Reader Fluff)

Tommy needs a little help with finetuing his speech for the House of Commons

Headcanons

PDA

Sleeping

x Milf

First Period - Shelby!Sister

modern! Tommy Shelby

Skiing

Moonboards

As M'lady Commands

La Serenissima

Livin' for the Fame

The Last Dandelion

[simpforfandom231]

My Plushie snake

A/N: kinda want this into a multipart but not really sure.... my other multiparts are getting finished but I'm just touching them up a bit. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flickering light of the hob illuminated Lucy Gray Baird's face as she stood on the makeshift stage, her voice resonating through the crowded room. The Covey, a group of talented performers from District 12, played their instruments with a fervor that captivated the audience. Among the sea of faces, Lucy Gray's eyes were fixed on the person who meant the world to her – Y/N.

Y/N, a kind and gentle soul, was sitting at a table near the stage, enjoying the music in her own way. Y/N had autism, and while the world sometimes seemed like a confusing and overwhelming place, Lucy Gray's love and understanding created a sanctuary for her.

As Lucy Gray sang, she noticed Mayfair, the daughter of the mayor of District 12, approaching Y/N. A sense of unease crept over Lucy Gray, knowing the history between Mayfair and her former lover, Billy Taupe. Mayfair was the girl Billy had cheated with, leading to the end of Lucy Gray and Billy's relationship.

Mayfair, with a sly smile, began sarcastically engaging with Y/N. Y/N, unable to grasp the subtleties of sarcasm, took Mayfair's words at face value. Unaware of the underlying mockery, Y/N responded innocently, causing Mayfair's amusement to grow.

The conversation took a dark turn when Mayfair decided to bring up the painful history between Lucy Gray and Billy Taupe. She recounted the betrayal, relishing in the hurt it caused. Y/N, still not comprehending the sarcasm, listened intently, unaware of the manipulation at play.

Lucy Gray, sensing trouble, felt a surge of anger rise within her. Her performance forgotten, she descended from the stage, striding purposefully toward Mayfair and Y/N. The room fell silent as Lucy Gray approached, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and determination.

In true Lucy Gray fashion, she didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Mayfair," she spat out the name, "you've got a talent for meddling in other people's lives. But let me make one thing clear – you won't get away with this."

Mayfair, taken aback by Lucy Gray's sudden appearance and fierce demeanor, stammered for words. Lucy Gray turned her attention to Y/N, gently taking her hand. "Y/N, don't listen to her. She's trying to play games. You're the most important thing in the world to me, and no one can change that."

Y/N, sensing Lucy Gray's sincerity, smiled warmly. Lucy Gray, now fully focused on Mayfair, continued, "Mayfair, I suggest you find other ways to amuse yourself. But if you ever cross paths with us again, you'll regret it."

Mayfair, fueled by a desire to provoke Lucy Gray further, couldn't resist the opportunity to spit out more hurtful comments. As Lucy Gray led Y/N away, Mayfair's voice cut through the air with a venomous edge.

"Lucy Gray, you always were too naive. How could you not see Billy Taupe slipping away? It's almost as if he never wanted you in the first place," Mayfair taunted, her words designed to pierce through Lucy Gray's defenses.

Lucy Gray gritted her teeth, feeling the sting of Mayfair's verbal assault. Y/N, sensing the tension, looked up at Lucy Gray with confusion and concern, not fully grasping the nature of the attack. Lucy Gray, determined to shield Y/N from the pain, shot a withering glare at Mayfair.

Mayfair, relentless in her pursuit of causing emotional turmoil, continued, "And this one," she gestured towards Y/N, "how can you even stand being with someone who doesn't understand the simplest things? It must be exhausting to babysit all the time."

The words struck a nerve, and Lucy Gray's fists clenched in frustration. She took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay composed for Y/N's sake. Y/N, oblivious to the true intent of Mayfair's words, clung to Lucy Gray's hand, seeking comfort in her presence.

Lucy Gray shot back with a cold determination, "Mayfair, I won't let your bitterness ruin what I have with Y/N. Love is more than your petty games and hurtful words. If you think you can break us, you're sorely mistaken."

As Mayfair's spiteful words continued to echo in the air, Y/N, usually calm and gentle, felt an unexpected wave of anger surge through her. The barrage of hurtful comments had crossed a line, and Y/N, unable to fully control her emotions, exploded with a fiery response.

In a sudden outburst, Y/N turned towards Mayfair, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Enough! Who do you think you are, trying to bring people down just for fun? You don't know anything about love or understanding, and you certainly don't know anything about us!"

Mayfair, momentarily taken aback by Y/N's unexpected outburst, tried to mask her surprise with a dismissive smirk. "Oh, look at the little firecracker. Can't handle the truth, huh?"

Y/N, fueled by a newfound determination, didn't back down. "Your so-called truth is just a bunch of nasty lies and manipulation. Lucy Gray and I have something real – something you obviously wouldn't understand. So why don't you crawl back to whatever dark corner you came from and leave us alone!"

The onlookers in the hob fell silent, witnessing the unexpected confrontation between Y/N and Mayfair. Lucy Gray, impressed by Y/N's courage, stood by her side, offering silent support.

Mayfair, realizing she had lost control of the situation, sneered one last time before retreating, leaving Y/N and Lucy Gray to reclaim the joy of their evening. Y/N, still brimming with energy from her outburst, took a deep breath and turned to Lucy Gray.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. I just couldn't let her keep hurting us," Y/N said, the lingering anger in her voice replaced by a soft sincerity.

Lucy Gray smiled, wrapping her arms around Y/N. "No need to apologize, love. You stood up for us, and I couldn't be prouder. Let's focus on the music and the moment – nothing else matters."

As Mayfair slinked away, a storm of emotions still raged within Y/N. Unable to regulate the intense feelings stirred up by the encounter, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to retaliate. In a moment of impulsiveness, she hurled a snarky comment after Mayfair.

"Oh, Mayfair, maybe you should try learning a thing or two about kindness and compassion instead of being the mayor's puppet!" Y/N's words cut through the air, fueled by the lingering anger she felt.

Lucy Gray, sensing Y/N's continued agitation, quickly stepped in. She placed a calming hand on Y/N's shoulder, gently guiding her attention away from Mayfair's retreating figure. "Easy there, love. Let's not let her poison linger in our minds. We're above that, and we're stronger together."

Y/N, still fuming but comforted by Lucy Gray's touch, took a deep breath. "I just hate how she thinks she can walk all over people."

"I know, Y/N. But responding in kind won't change anything. We have each other, and that's what matters," Lucy Gray reassured, her voice a soothing balm to Y/N's turbulent emotions.

Feeling the aftermath of the intense emotional encounter, Y/N's senses were overwhelmed, and the overstimulation became too much to bear. She began to shake, struggling to regulate her emotions and find a sense of calm. Lucy Gray, ever attuned to Y/N's needs, noticed the distress and immediately took action.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," Lucy Gray whispered soothingly, guiding Y/N to a quieter corner away from the bustling crowd. She could see the signs of overstimulation – the trembling, the heightened anxiety – and knew the importance of providing a safe space for Y/N to regain control.

Y/N, still shaken, clung to Lucy Gray, desperately trying to find a way to ground herself. Lucy Gray cupped Y/N's face gently, encouraging her to make eye contact, a technique they had developed to help Y/N focus.

"Look at me, love. You're safe. We're away from all the noise," Lucy Gray spoke with a calm assurance, her eyes locking onto Y/N's to establish a connection.

With Lucy Gray's support, Y/N gradually started to regulate. Lucy Gray guided her through slow, deep breaths, providing a steady rhythm for Y/N to follow. The soft hum of the background music became a comforting backdrop, and Lucy Gray's gentle touch served as an anchor in the storm of overstimulation.

As Y/N's trembling subsided and her breathing steadied, Lucy Gray continued to offer reassurance. "You're doing great, love. Take your time. I'm right here with you."

Mayfair, having returned to the scene, watched from a distance as Lucy Gray tenderly comforted Y/N through the aftermath of overstimulation. An unsettling mixture of curiosity and resentment flickered in Mayfair's eyes as she observed the intimate moment between the couple.

Lucy Gray, fully engrossed in supporting Y/N, was unaware of Mayfair's presence. Y/N, gradually recovering from the overstimulation, still clung to Lucy Gray for reassurance. The scene spoke volumes about the strength of their bond, and Mayfair couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy mixed with a tinge of frustration.

Unable to resist inserting herself back into the narrative, Mayfair approached with an air of mock concern. "Well, well, Lucy Gray, seems like your little pet can't handle the real world. How do you expect to survive when things get tough?"

Lucy Gray, shooting a glance at Mayfair, tightened her grip on Y/N protectively. "Mayfair, this is none of your business. We're perfectly capable of handling our own lives, thank you very much."

Mayfair smirked, enjoying the opportunity to ruffle Lucy Gray's feathers once again. "I just find it amusing that you have to play caretaker to someone who can't even handle a simple conversation. What kind of future do you see with someone like that?"

Ignoring Mayfair's provocation, Lucy Gray continued to support Y/N. "Y/N is stronger than you could ever imagine, and our future is ours to build. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have better things to focus on than your petty attempts to sow discord."

As Lucy Gray and Y/N walked past Mayfair, attempting to leave the confrontation behind, Mayfair couldn't resist delivering one last low blow. With a venomous sneer, she spat out, "You really think you can build a future with someone like Lucy Gray? Everyone knows she's quick to open her legs for anyone who comes her way."

The comment hung in the air like a poisonous cloud, and Lucy Gray's jaw tightened, feeling the sting of Mayfair's words. Y/N, however, had had enough. The usually calm and reserved girl suddenly transformed, her protective instincts kicking in.

In a swift and unexpected turn of events, Y/N faced Mayfair, her eyes blazing with a newfound confidence. "Watch your mouth, Mayfair. You don't know a thing about Lucy Gray or our relationship. You've said enough, and you're walking on thin ice."

Mayfair, initially taken aback by Y/N's sudden assertiveness, attempted to brush it off with a dismissive laugh. "Oh, look at the quiet one finding her voice. What are you going to do, huh?"

Y/N, undeterred, leaned in, her tone firm and threatening. "You may think you can say whatever you want, but this is your last warning. Keep Lucy Gray's name out of your mouth, or you'll regret it."

Mayfair, sensing a shift in the dynamics, shot back with a mocking grin. "What are you going to do? Have a meltdown?"

Y/N's expression remained unwavering, her eyes locked onto Mayfair's. "I suggest you find a new hobby, Mayfair, before you find out what I'm capable of when pushed too far."

As the words hung in the air, Lucy Gray, both surprised and impressed by Y/N's newfound assertiveness, placed a calming hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Let's go, Y/N. We don't need to waste our time on someone like her."

In that charged moment, Y/N stood inches away from Mayfair, her breath hitting Mayfair's face like a silent warning. Mayfair, momentarily surprised by the sudden transformation of the usually calm Y/N, couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

Y/N, now adopting a threatening posture, looked directly into Mayfair's eyes. The air between them crackled with tension as Y/N's voice, laced with a fierce determination, cut through the silence. "Say that again, and you'll regret it. You have no idea how far I'm willing to go to protect the ones I love."

Mayfair, though trying to maintain her facade of indifference, couldn't ignore the intensity in Y/N's gaze. There was a palpable shift in the dynamics, as if a dormant force had been awakened within Y/N.

With a mocking smirk, Mayfair attempted to downplay the situation. "What's the quiet girl gonna do, huh? Threaten me? You're just as pathetic as your girlfriend."

In response, Y/N's warning became sharper, her tone cutting through the air like a blade. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you. This is your final warning."

The crowd in the hob had started to take notice of the escalating confrontation, sensing the tension in the air. Lucy Gray, still by Y/N's side, observed the exchange with a mixture of concern and admiration.

Mayfair, feeling the weight of the confrontation, decided to step back, but not without a final taunt. "You can't hide behind your little protector forever, Y/N."

Y/N's eyes flared with a fire that Mayfair hadn't anticipated. "This isn't about hiding. It's about standing up for what's right. Cross the line again, and you'll see exactly what I'm capable of."

Mayfair, her facade of arrogance momentarily shattered, walked away from the encounter with Y/N with an unexpected unease settling in her gut. The air of confidence that she usually exuded was replaced by a subtle fear, a recognition that she had underestimated the strength and determination of the seemingly reserved Y/N.

As Mayfair distanced herself from the scene, she couldn't shake the lingering intensity in Y/N's eyes or the sharpness of her warning. The usually calm and collected girl had revealed a side that Mayfair hadn't anticipated – a fierce protector ready to defend those she cared about.

The crowd in the hob murmured in the aftermath of the confrontation, the unexpected twist leaving an impression on those who had witnessed it. Mayfair, despite her attempts to brush off the encounter, couldn't shake the sense that she had crossed a line and rattled a force that she hadn't known existed.

Meanwhile, Y/N and Lucy Gray continued on their way, their bond unbroken and their love undeterred. The confrontation had only strengthened their connection, proving that, when pushed, Y/N could transform into a formidable defender of those she held dear.

As the night settled in, Lucy Gray and Y/N returned to their shared space. The dim light cast a warm glow, creating a quiet haven for the couple. Lucy Gray couldn't help but notice the lingering tension in the air, a palpable energy that seemed to echo the events of the evening.

As they prepared for bed, Lucy Gray stole glances at Y/N, who was in the process of settling down. Y/N's usual calm demeanor was tinged with a subtle intensity, a residue of the assertive and protective stance she had taken earlier. Lucy Gray, sensing the shift, decided to broach the subject.

"Y/N, love, that was quite a moment back there," Lucy Gray said, her voice carrying a gentle curiosity.

Y/N, looking up from her nighttime routine, met Lucy Gray's gaze. The fire that had ignited in her eyes during the confrontation seemed to smolder beneath the surface. "I just couldn't stand by and let her talk about you like that. It felt like I had to do something."

Lucy Gray smiled, grateful for the depth of Y/N's commitment. "I appreciate that, truly. It's just, you seemed so... different. In a good way, of course."

Y/N sighed, a mixture of relief and introspection. "It's like something clicked in my head. I couldn't let her get away with saying those things about us. It was like a switch turned on, and I had to stand up."

Lucy Gray moved closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N. "You were incredible, you know that? I've never seen you so assertive and confident. It's like you became a fierce protector right in front of my eyes."

Y/N nestled into the embrace, finding comfort in Lucy Gray's presence. "I guess sometimes, when people we care about are attacked, we find strength we didn't know we had."

Lucy Gray pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Well, I'm glad you found that strength tonight. But promise me, no matter what, you'll always let me be there for you too. We're a team, after all."

Y/N nodded, the intensity in her eyes softening. "Always, Lucy. We're in this together."

The room was bathed in a soft glow from the lamp on the nightstand as Y/N lay nestled under the warm blankets, patiently awaiting Lucy Gray's return from her nighttime routine. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility, and Y/N snuggled deeper into the bed, finding comfort in the plush snake wrapped securely in her arms.

Lucy Gray emerged from the adjoining bathroom, her nightly routine complete. She smiled warmly at the sight of Y/N enveloped in the blankets, the plush snake cradled against her chest. Lucy Gray couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for the calming effect the plush had on Y/N.

"Hey there, love," Lucy Gray greeted, making her way to the bed.

"Hey," Y/N responded, a serene smile playing on her lips. "Just waiting for you to join me."

Lucy Gray slipped under the covers, and Y/N immediately shifted to make room for her. As Lucy Gray settled beside Y/N, the plush snake still in her embrace, Y/N turned to her with a gentle expression.

"This snake, Lucy, it's become such a lifeline for me," Y/N confessed, her fingers idly tracing the soft fabric of the plush.

Lucy Gray reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face. "I'm glad it brings you comfort, love. You've mentioned how snakes are fascinating creatures to you, and I thought this might help, especially during times when you need something soothing."

Y/N's eyes lit up with appreciation. "It really does. The colors and the softness... it's just perfect. And holding it just makes everything feel a bit more manageable."

Lucy Gray chuckled softly. "Well, I'm glad I got it right. Anything to make my girl feel more at ease."

The couple shared a tender moment, the quiet intimacy of their shared space deepening. Y/N nestled closer to Lucy Gray, the plush snake acting as a bridge between them. Lucy Gray pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead, savoring the connection.

As they lay together, Y/N's fingers continued to trace the contours of the plush snake, grounding her in the tranquility of the moment. Lucy Gray, understanding the unspoken language of love, wrapped her arms around Y/N, providing the warmth and security that complemented the comforting presence of the plush snake.

In the hushed stillness of the night, Lucy Gray whispered, "I love you, Y/N."

Y/N looked up with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. "I love you too, Lucy. Thank you for understanding me."

Together, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, the plush snake serving as a silent guardian against the storm of overstimulation. In the sanctuary of their shared world, Lucy Gray and Y/N found solace and love, their connection growing stronger with each passing day.

The next morning, Lucy Gray awoke with a sense of joy and a plan to make the day special for Y/N. As the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, Lucy Gray slipped out of bed with care not to disturb her still-sleeping girlfriend.

In the small kitchen area, Lucy Gray gathered ingredients and began to prepare a delightful breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she cooked pancakes, eggs, and crispy bacon. Lucy Gray hummed a tune, a quiet melody that she knew Y/N found soothing.

After carefully arranging the food on a tray, Lucy Gray added a vase of wildflowers she had picked the day before, their vibrant colors brightening the room. With a satisfied smile, she carried the tray back to the bedroom, the enticing smell of breakfast in tow.

Y/N, now awake, looked up with surprise as Lucy Gray entered the room carrying the tray. The sight of the delicious breakfast and the lovely flowers brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"What's all this?" Y/N asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Just a little something to start our day off right," Lucy Gray replied, placing the tray on the bed.

Y/N's eyes widened in delight as she took in the spread. "Breakfast in bed? You really went all out, Lucy."

Lucy Gray chuckled. "Well, I thought my amazing girlfriend deserved a special morning. Dig in."

As they enjoyed the delicious breakfast together, Y/N couldn't help but feel a deep warmth in her heart. Lucy Gray's thoughtful gesture spoke volumes, reminding Y/N of the love and understanding that defined their relationship.

Between bites, Y/N looked at Lucy Gray with gratitude. "You know me so well. This is perfect."

Lucy Gray reached over to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "Anything for you, love. I just wanted to make your morning a little brighter."

The couple continued to savor the meal, sharing smiles and laughter. The morning unfolded with a gentle intimacy, the aroma of coffee and the taste of breakfast becoming the backdrop to the quiet joy of being together.

As they finished the meal, Lucy Gray leaned in to give Y/N a tender kiss. "Happy morning, Y/N."

Y/N beamed, feeling a surge of happiness. "Happy morning, Lucy. Thank you for making it so special."

Despite Lucy Gray's efforts to start the day on a positive note, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that it was one of those rare days when everything seemed overwhelming. The breakfast, while delicious, felt heavier on her stomach, and the usual comfort she found in Lucy Gray's touch seemed to elude her.

As the day unfolded, Y/N's sensitivity to stimuli heightened. The hum of the city outside, the scent of strong coffee, and even the touch of fabric against her skin became sources of discomfort. Lucy Gray, perceptive to Y/N's shifting mood, noticed the subtle signs and decided to approach the situation with care.

"Hey, love, is everything okay?" Lucy Gray asked gently, sensing Y/N's unease.

Y/N sighed, struggling to find words to express the turmoil within. "I don't know, Lucy. It's just one of those days where everything feels too much. I appreciate the breakfast, I really do, but even the simplest things are overwhelming right now."

Lucy Gray nodded understandingly, her concern evident in her eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Y/N hesitated, trying to articulate her needs. "I think I just need some space right now. The touches, the sounds, it's all a bit too intense. Can we just have a quiet day?"

Lucy Gray nodded, respecting Y/N's request. "Of course, love. Whatever you need. I'm here for you."

As the day unfolded, Lucy Gray created a calm and quiet environment. She turned off the buzzing city sounds, kept the lights soft, and made sure there were no strong smells to trigger Y/N's discomfort. The two spent the day in a hushed cocoon, Lucy Gray offering silent support while Y/N navigated the challenges of sensory overload.

At one point, Lucy Gray brought out a familiar plush snake, placing it gently on the bed next to Y/N. "I thought this might help," she said, a comforting smile on her face.

Y/N appreciated the gesture, holding onto the plush snake for grounding. "Thank you, Lucy. You always know how to make things a little better."

Lucy Gray sat beside Y/N, respecting the silence and the need for space. In the quiet, she offered a reassuring presence, a constant support for Y/N to lean on during the challenging moments.

As the day waned and the evening approached, Y/N felt a gradual easing of the sensory overload. Lucy Gray, always attuned to Y/N's needs, continued to provide a comforting presence, knowing that sometimes, the greatest support was found in the quiet understanding between two people deeply in love.

The soft glow of evening cast a serene atmosphere in the room as Y/N continued to rest in bed, clutching the plush snake that had become a reliable source of comfort. Lucy Gray, seated beside her, observed the tranquility that had settled after a day of sensory challenges.

Glancing at the time, Lucy Gray sighed softly. She realized it was almost time for her to get ready for another performance at the hob. While she cherished the moments spent with Y/N, duty called, and Lucy Gray had a commitment to fulfill.

Y/N looked up from her quiet reverie, meeting Lucy Gray's gaze. "You need to go, don't you?" she asked, a hint of understanding in her eyes.

Lucy Gray nodded, a sense of regret shadowing her features. "I do, love. But I wish I could stay with you."

Y/N offered a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Lucy. I know you have to perform. I'll be fine here with my snake."

Lucy Gray leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead. "I won't be long. I'll come back to you as soon as I can. Just take it easy, okay?"

"I will," Y/N replied, her fingers gently stroking the plush snake. "Break a leg out there, Lucy."

Lucy Gray chuckled, appreciating Y/N's support. "Thanks, love. I'll be thinking of you."

As Lucy Gray prepared to leave, she carefully tucked the plush snake beside Y/N, making sure it was within easy reach. With a lingering glance, Lucy Gray left the room, leaving Y/N to find solace in the quiet evening and the comforting presence of the plush companion.

In the dim light, Y/N snuggled deeper into the blankets, finding comfort in the familiar surroundings. As Lucy Gray took the stage at the hob, Y/N closed her eyes, allowing the soft melody of the plush snake and the distant echoes of the performance to create a gentle lull in the room.

Lucy Gray, pouring her heart into the performance, couldn't help but think of Y/N throughout the night. The love they shared, even in moments of quiet separation, remained a powerful force, bridging the space between them.

As Y/N left the comforting cocoon of their shared bed, the scent of Lucy Gray lingered, a bittersweet reminder of her absence. Torn between the weight of sensory overload and the desire to witness her girlfriend's performance, Y/N made a decision. Determined to be part of Lucy Gray's world, she got up, choosing to watch her girlfriend in action.

In Lucy Gray's sweatpants and hoodie, Y/N felt a comforting connection to her absent partner. The familiar fabric wrapped around her provided a sense of closeness, as if Lucy Gray's essence enveloped her. Holding the plush snake close, Y/N took a steadying breath and made her way toward the hob.

As Y/N approached the venue, the distant echoes of music and laughter grew louder. The familiar sights and sounds of the hob welcomed her, and Y/N found a quiet corner where she could observe without feeling overwhelmed. The plush snake, a calming presence in her arms, helped her navigate the sensory challenges.

Lucy Gray, unaware of Y/N's presence, poured her soul into the performance. The crowd was captivated by her voice, the melody resonating through the hob. Y/N, watching from the shadows, felt a swell of pride and love for the talented woman on stage.

After the performance, as Lucy Gray took a bow, she caught sight of Y/N in the corner. A surprised smile lit up her face, and she made her way towards her girlfriend.

Y/N greeted her with a warm smile, the hoodie engulfing her in Lucy Gray's scent. "You were amazing, as always."

Lucy Gray, ever attuned to Y/N's needs, asked hesitantly, "Can I hug you, love?" Her eyes held a mixture of concern and affection.

Y/N, appreciating Lucy Gray's thoughtfulness, nodded with a soft smile. "Of course, Lucy. I'd like that."

As Lucy Gray enveloped Y/N in a warm embrace, the plush snake still nestled between them, a sense of comfort and security washed over Y/N. The hug was gentle, a shared moment of reassurance in the midst of the bustling atmosphere of the hob.

However, as Lucy Gray pulled away, she couldn't help but notice Y/N wearing her hoodie and sweatpants. A mischievous glint sparkled in Lucy Gray's eyes, and she teased, "Well, well, someone's raided my closet, I see."

Y/N blushed slightly, a playful glimmer in her eyes. "Your clothes are just so much comfier than mine. I couldn't resist."

Lucy Gray chuckled, loving the sight of Y/N in her attire. "I guess I'll have to start keeping a closer eye on my wardrobe. But I must say, you wear it well."

Y/N grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment. "Maybe I'll make it a habit. It's like having a piece of you with me."

Lucy Gray leaned in for a quick kiss, savoring the playful banter. "Well, you can raid my closet anytime you want. Just make sure to leave me something to wear for the next performance."

They shared a laugh, the teasing adding a touch of joy to the evening.

Mayfair, scanning the room after Lucy Gray's performance, couldn't help but notice Y/N standing in the corner, holding the plush snake. A sly smirk played on Mayfair's lips as she approached the couple.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Mayfair's tone dripped with a mix of condescension and curiosity as she eyed Y/N and the plush snake.

Lucy Gray, sensing the impending tension, shot a protective glance at Y/N before turning her attention to Mayfair. "What's it to you, Mayfair?"

Mayfair, ignoring Lucy Gray's defensive stance, focused on Y/N. "Isn't it cute? The quiet girl and her plush snake. How fitting."

Y/N, feeling a surge of discomfort but determined not to let Mayfair's comments ruin the evening, replied calmly, "It helps me. What's the problem?"

Mayfair chuckled, the sarcasm evident in her voice. "No problem at all. Just amusing to see how you need a stuffed animal to cope with life. I bet Lucy Gray finds that adorable."

Lucy Gray, her patience wearing thin, stepped forward. "Mayfair, we don't need your commentary. Y/N can handle herself just fine."

Y/N, clutching the plush snake a bit tighter, took a steadying breath. "Let it go, Lucy. She's not worth it."

Mayfair, reveling in the discomfort she was causing, leaned in closer. "Oh, but it's so entertaining to see the tough girl of the hob reduced to playing caretaker for someone who can't even handle a simple conversation without a plushie."

Lucy Gray, unable to contain her frustration, shot back, "You have no idea what you're talking about, Mayfair. Y/N is stronger than you could ever be."

Y/N, overwhelmed by the situation, sought comfort in the plush snake. "Let's just go, Lucy. She's not worth our time."

The atmosphere in the hob shifted abruptly as Mayfair, fueled by a toxic blend of jealousy and malice, snatched the plush snake from Y/N's hands. The room fell into a hushed silence, all eyes on Mayfair as she threatened to rip it apart.

"Let's see how you cope without your little security blanket," Mayfair sneered, yanking at the plush snake with a force that tore it apart, stuffing scattering in all directions.

Y/N gasped, a wave of shock and distress washing over her as the cherished plushie was torn apart. Lucy Gray, her protective instincts ignited, felt a surge of fury at the blatant cruelty displayed by Mayfair.

Without a second thought, Lucy Gray's hands tightened around the neck of her guitar. In a swift, furious motion, she swung it at Mayfair, the clash of wood against the air resonating through the hob. The guitar narrowly missed Mayfair, who stumbled back, a mix of surprise and defiance in her eyes.

"You think that's funny, Mayfair?" Lucy Gray's voice was laced with anger, her eyes blazing with a fiery determination. "You don't touch what's ours."

Mayfair, seemingly unfazed by the guitar swing, taunted with a sinister grin. "Looks like your tough image is just a facade, Lucy Gray. Can't handle a little teasing?"

The tension escalated as Lucy Gray, fueled by a mix of anger and protective instinct, took a step forward. "Teasing is one thing, but destroying something personal is another."

The hob's atmosphere crackled with a palpable sense of confrontation. The onlookers, initially silent, began to murmur as the situation escalated into a battle of threats and fists.

Y/N, still recovering from the shock of the ripped plush, felt a surge of conflicting emotions – the need for comfort and the desire to support Lucy Gray in the face of Mayfair's aggression.

As the tension reached its peak, Lucy Gray and Mayfair stood locked in a battle of wills. The shattered remnants of the plush snake lay scattered on the floor, a symbolic representation of the turmoil that had unfolded in the hob.

As the argument between Lucy Gray and Mayfair escalated, Lucy Gray's attention shifted briefly to Y/N. The pain in her girlfriend's eyes was unmistakable, a reflection of the devastation caused by the destruction of the plush snake.

Fury surged through Lucy Gray, and she yelled at Mayfair, "You crossed a line, Mayfair! This ends now!"

In the midst of their heated exchange, neither Lucy Gray nor Mayfair noticed the subtle transformation in Y/N. Seething with a newfound anger, Y/N's eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity. Unbeknownst to Lucy Gray, Y/N grabbed an empty bottle and skillfully broke the end to create a sharp, improvised weapon.

The air crackled with tension as Y/N, fueled by a mix of anger and a desire to protect Lucy Gray, dangerously approached the scene. The broken bottle gleamed in her hand, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding in the hob.

Mayfair, still smirking with arrogance, failed to register the danger in Y/N's eyes. "Your little friend can't handle a bit of fun, Lucy Gray. What's she gonna do, cry?"

Lucy Gray, her frustration boiling over, clenched her fists. "You have no idea what you've done."

As Mayfair continued her taunts, Y/N, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, stepped forward with the makeshift weapon. The atmosphere grew even more charged, the onlookers now realizing that the situation had taken a dangerous turn.

Lucy Gray, sensing the escalating tension, turned to Y/N with concern. "Y/N, stop. This isn't the way."

But Y/N, consumed by anger and the need to protect, advanced further, the sharp end of the broken bottle glinting in the dim light. Mayfair, finally registering the danger, took a hesitant step back.

"Come on, Y/N, you're not actually going to do anything, are you?" Mayfair stammered, a flicker of fear betraying her confident facade.

As Y/N advanced with the makeshift weapon, the broken bottle glinting dangerously, Mayfair found herself forced backward until her back collided with the cold wall of the hob. The atmosphere in the room grew thick with tension as Y/N, fueled by a potent mix of anger and determination, pointed the sharp end of the bottle at Mayfair.

"You made a big mistake, Mayfair," Y/N hissed, her eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down Mayfair's spine. "You're going to regret every moment of it."

Lucy Gray, increasingly concerned by the turn of events, stepped forward, attempting to calm Y/N down. "Y/N, please, we need to stop this. It's not worth it."

But Y/N, now consumed by a cold and heartless resolve, paid little attention to Lucy Gray's pleas. She maintained her threatening stance, the broken bottle serving as a stark reminder of the line that had been crossed.

"You think this is a joke?" Y/N's voice dripped with menace as she got closer to Mayfair. "You don't mess with what's mine, and you certainly don't destroy something that means so much to me."

Mayfair, cornered and realizing the gravity of the situation, stammered, "I-I didn't think it would be such a big deal. Just some stupid plush."

Y/N, undeterred, made a sharp and dangerous comment, her tone chillingly cold. "Maybe you need a lesson in consequences."

With swift and calculated precision, Y/N made a small, deep cut on Mayfair's cheek, a warning etched in the crimson bead that emerged. The hob fell silent, the weight of the confrontation lingering in the air.

Lucy Gray, her attempts at calming Y/N proving futile, watched with a mix of concern and disbelief. "Y/N, please, this isn't who you are. Let's walk away from this."

But Y/N, now cold and unyielding, remained fixated on Mayfair. "Consider this a warning. Cross us again, and the consequences will be far worse."

Y/N's eyes locked onto Mayfair, a cold determination reflecting in their gaze. With a swift and forceful motion, she threw the broken bottle against the wall, the shattering sound echoing through the hob. It served as a symbolic punctuation to the warning Y/N had just delivered.

"This is your last warning," Y/N declared with a chilling finality before turning on her heel and walking out of the hob. The onlookers, still processing the abrupt and intense confrontation, were left in a stunned silence.

Lucy Gray, torn between the events that had unfolded and her concern for Y/N, glanced back at Mayfair before following Y/N out. She knew that Y/N needed some space to cool down, and the lake, with its calming waters, seemed like the perfect place.

As Y/N reached the outskirts of the hob, the cool night air greeted her. The echoes of the confrontation still lingered in her mind, the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. The lake, illuminated by the soft moonlight, beckoned in the distance.

Lucy Gray caught up with Y/N, understanding the need for a moment of solace. "Y/N, wait," she called gently.

Y/N paused, her expression still hardened. "I just need some air, Lucy. I can't believe she did that."

Lucy Gray placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I know, love. Let's go to the lake. It might help."

Y/N nodded, appreciating Lucy Gray's support. Together, they walked towards the serene waters of the lake, leaving the chaos of the hob behind. The night air carried a mixture of tension and the promise of a calm respite.

As Y/N sat on a rock by the lake, the weight of the recent events pressing heavily on her, Lucy Gray respected the distance, settling on the grass a few meters away. The night air whispered through the trees, and the soft ripples of the lake provided a backdrop to the solitude that enveloped Y/N.

Time passed in the quiet stillness, but Lucy Gray, attuned to the subtle shifts in Y/N's emotions, eventually heard the soft sounds of sobs carried by the breeze. Concern etched across her face, Lucy Gray stood up, crossing the distance to be closer to Y/N.

Without a word, Lucy Gray sat down beside Y/N on the rock, offering a comforting presence. Y/N, overwhelmed by the emotions that had been bottled up, leaned into Lucy Gray's embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of her arms.

Lucy Gray, understanding that sometimes words weren't enough, wrapped her arms around Y/N, providing a safe space for the tears to fall. The night embraced them in its quiet understanding, and the lake mirrored the moon's gentle glow, casting a serene ambiance over the moment.

"I'm here, Y/N," Lucy Gray whispered softly, her words carrying a reassurance that extended beyond the immediate situation.

Y/N, surrounded by Lucy Gray's comforting embrace, let the tears flow, releasing the pent-up emotions that had built throughout the tumultuous night. Lucy Gray held her close, offering silent support and understanding.

The lake, witness to the complexities of love and the resilience of the human spirit, mirrored the reflection of two souls finding solace in each other's presence.

In the embrace of Lucy Gray's comforting arms, Y/N finally let the tears flow freely, the weight of the destroyed plush snake pressing heavily on her heart. The sobs echoed across the quiet lake, a poignant symphony of sorrow and frustration.

Lucy Gray held Y/N close, offering silent support as the tears fell. The moonlight cast a gentle glow on the two figures by the water, creating a serene tableau amidst the night's stillness.

"I loved that plush," Y/N whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "It meant so much to me, and she just... destroyed it."

Lucy Gray tightened her hold, her own heart aching at the pain Y/N was going through. "I know, love. I know how much it meant to you."

Y/N buried her face in Lucy Gray's shoulder, the remnants of the destroyed plush a cruel reminder of the vulnerability that had been exploited. The lake seemed to mirror the depths of Y/N's emotions, its calm surface betraying the storm within.

"I never thought she'd go that far," Y/N admitted, the tears staining Lucy Gray's hoodie. "It was more than just a plush; it was a piece of comfort, something that helped me when everything felt too much."

Lucy Gray, her own eyes glistening with empathy, murmured soothing words. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one should have the right to take away something that brings you comfort."

As the night continued, Y/N's tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a sense of emotional release. Lucy Gray continued to hold her, providing a sanctuary in the quiet night. The lake, witness to the pain and healing, reflected the enduring strength of their connection.

In that moment, amidst the whispers of the night, Y/N found solace in Lucy Gray's embrace, and Lucy Gray, determined to mend the wounds inflicted, remained a steadfast anchor in the face of adversity.

[ashyronfire]

Consequences || Chapter 01: When I Meet Death

Title: 01 - When I Meet Death Rating: M Characters: Grimm, The Pale King Warnings: Disturbing Content, Horror, Gore, Unreliable Narrator, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Read On Ao3: Beginning || Current Chapter

Summary:

Nothing consumed by the void truly dies. Not even the fallen king of Hallownest.

Author’s Notes: This fic has a LOT of warnings that it needs, but in truth, a lot of them are also spoilers. I don't want to spoil it so I will just warn you that it has some of the most graphic things I've ever written, on top of which it is best classified as a horror hurt-no-comfort. If you're squeamish, don't read. Please.

Also, this fic is only 10 chapters long. So if you're someone who is scared of committing to one of my longfics, lmao, surprise, this one's multipart but not terribly long.

CHAPTER 01: WHEN I MEET DEATH

For some, the endless night came with a kind of peace. A people once revered it as the still calm of death: a sea that stretched on unto eternity, where the beginning and the end could be found. That ancient civilization had regarded the ancient force they shared space with as an inevitable, but welcome friend, and they’d gone into its sweet embrace at the end of their days with no hesitation at all.

But the Pale King’s heart was heavy, and he was not so blessed. For him, that infinite black was not still at all. It was tumultuous, a storm threatening to devour all, and he’d known – he’d always known – that what awaited him was anything but peace.

When the shadows rose from the abyss, creeping through the dream of the White Palace, staining marble with shifting void, he’d accepted his fate with as much dignity and grace as someone in his position could be expected to.

He’d screamed, cried, and tried to beg, and it was all for naught.

The void claimed what it was owed: his heart, his mind, his life.

And demanded so much more.

What should have been still, should have been a vast reservoir of empty nothing, was instead full of souls and they cried out for retribution.

The void did not offer him death, for death would have been a mercy.

The void did not offer him peace, for he had not yet earned it.

And within that maelstrom of power, of hunger and rage, of glowing white eyes filled with disappointment and betrayal, with pain that he’d put there, he learned the cost of regret. The anchor of his mistakes pulled him down, crushed him beneath their fury. Words echoed, cacophonous, everyone and no one at once, and he could say and do nothing to stop it.

Nothing within the swirling tempest was dead. Nor was it alive. They existed instead in a state somewhere between, locked in the moment of a memory that replayed itself over and over again, whispers of ‘Father?...’ like a mantra between screams. Horrible, resonant screams and the void made sure that he heard every single one.

In that place of darkness, what need had anyone for a light? He was without worth.

As he’d always been, really.

A king whose resolution had been to sacrifice everything on a hope and a dream – against hope and against dreams. What folly.

He saw their eyes. Hundreds of white, burning eyes that stared through him with a luminescence that rivaled his own, starlight winking in the shadows and full, so full, of promise, of demands.

What good to scream?

What good to plead, to beg?

Had it ever done anyone any good?

Hallownest would live on and so would he.

Nothing the void claimed had ever truly died. It might have changed hands. It might have changed forms. But memory was an eternal thing, and the void would never forget that which it touched, that which it birthed, that which it had claimed before any other false idols had wandered into its lands.

And compared to that primordial force, he was a false idol. So was she. They both were.

He fell and the distance was endless. There was no ground to break himself upon, no surface for his wings to catch. There was only the expanse, fathomless.

If a black hole existed, it was surely this: memories replaying around him, his voice and others, scenes like a vision most terrible, and the screams. Always the screams.

Those haunting starlight eyes were a beacon by which to guide himself, but he controlled not where he went. He could turn. He could flip himself upside down, as if he might see where he was destined to land – except that there was nothing to see. There would never be anything to see again.

Until there was.

Another glint of white, the flash of steel, and an uneasy bleeding of red. Disoriented, the Pale King turned over and held one claw out toward the difference, the color amidst the monochrome that had painted his world.

He reached out and he was met with claws that seized around his wrist. They moored him, snatched him from where he was drifting, and then a face leaned terribly close to his, breath licking his shell like flames. His heart raced while ice flowed through him, freezing the air in his lungs like needlepoints, icicles forming inside of him in an attempt to jut outward. He’d been afraid before. Recognition of the figure that caught him did little to assist with that.

“My, my.”

Scarlet horns and a cheshire smile that knew too much. Confusion settled at the back of the wyrm’s throat, stole away his words, and he gazed up at the floating figure that had caught him on his descent.

The counterpart to the blazing light of morning. The ruler of the other half of the realm of dreams.

The Nightmare King.

“What a sorry, pathetic state I find you in.”

All around him, those glowing white eyes turned, and the voices joined in unison to repeat one word: Grimm. The confusion of the Pale King intensified as the shadows laid over one another in a discordant melody. Grimm. Grimm. Grimm.

How did they know his name, the wyrm would have asked, but when he tried to speak, he found himself with no words.

That was a fitting punishment, perhaps.

He’d denied his children the ability to cry out their agony, to prevent himself from ever having to hear them weep – and they’d still found a way to scream. The Hollow Knight had screamed in agony before their death, and it was only a matter of time before their successor – for there would always be a successor; he’d ensured that any of the vessels who escaped would find their way back to take their place in the chain, each a link in the bonds that held Her at bay – followed suit.

That he should find himself without the ability to wail his despair –

“Nevertheless, I have found you. At last.” Razor-sharp claws plunged deeper, nesting through his chitin to break it, to hold onto the tissue beneath, and he was surprised to find that whatever the void had done to him, he could yet bleed.

Or could he? Was it in his head?

Scarlet eyes left his face and Grimm’s strangely knowing smile settled on the shimmering orbs above them. They flickered and phantom touches settled on the Pale King’s sides. He felt scratching and petting in the same motion. Grimm did not let go of his wrist and did not acknowledge the fact that shadows were winding up to choke the wyrm, cloaking him in ribbons of darkness, blotting out his light.

Some of the void snaked down the Pale King’s wrist, settled at the back of his hand, moved as though to touch Grimm’s, and then drew back with a shiver.

It was not fear. The shadows did not find frightening a force far less remarkable than they. And yet there was a reverence to the way they devoured him, leaving Grimm untouched; there was an almost affectionate way that they surrounded black claws, never touching him.

Fondness, the Pale King realized. There was something in the void that was fond of the god of fear.

“A provisional lease, if you please,” the Nightmare King murmured, and if the darkness answered, the Pale King did not hear it.

He woke instead.

o

The sharp incline of his body told him that he was crashing into consciousness. The waking world was a violent thing, seizing muscles, stiff fingers, broken wings. Blurring white, blue, violet, and crimson filled his vision, obscuring all but the hard dirt ground beneath his body.

The Pale King turned over and choked. His throat was a raw thing, dry and burning, and his claws – what he could make out – were stained with void.

The terrible realization that he was alive tore his confidence asunder.

He was alive. But he hadn’t survived. He was a living thing that hadn’t been allowed to die and he’d been brought back, dragged from the eternal sea with intent and purpose.

He retched and what came out was black.

It took him a moment to realize that it was more of a murky red when the light hit it. Chunks of discarded flesh and fragmented bone mingled within coagulated blood, peppering the darkness with discolored sludges of gray, of white, of sickly green. The smell seized his stomach, threatened to pull it taut once more, vile putrefaction turning his insides into something more liquid than any organ ought to have been.

Something moved. It had wings. And beneath it, wriggling, were slightly translucent white forms.

Larvae.

He was decaying, and smaller insects were laying their larvae within what had once been his corpse.

And that ghastly, grinning specter had put him back inside of it.

Waking horror made his claws shake and he brought one up to scratch the side of his face. Trembling, the wyrm took in the shadow that loomed over him, stretching far taller than he was, and he longed to curse.

When he opened his mouth, though, no sound came out, and the chuckle that Grimm offered was an awful thing: smug, condescending, and very self-satisfied.

“It will be some time before you are allowed the privilege of words,” he said, circling the Pale King’s half-doubled over form.

Just as in the void, just as in his prison of shadow, he had no voice with which to beg and plead for salvation.

Not that Grimm represented it. No, that harbinger of the end offered nothing that the Pale King wanted, and yet…

They were in the Basin, he realized.

His vision cleared enough for him to recognize the void-stained earth on which he was sitting. The smells carried heavily – roses, magnolias, and chrysanthemums, the flowers that his Root had planted so long ago – and he could taste them on the back of a half-decomposed tongue.

He lifted his head, secondary arms wrapping around himself for comfort, his expression impassive as outrage worked its way through him. The great caverns he’d once carved with his own claws lay in ruins around him, stained and ruined by the gaping maw of darkness on which he’d built his kingdom. Vegetation rested lifeless, the abyss draining all semblance of color away until the rocky gray earth was peppered with black veining in place of roots. Amidst it all, the decrepit arched entrance of his Palace stood, guarded by a lifeless kingsmould, but the structure itself was long gone.

Sent away. He’d sent it away, and himself with it. He remembered that, if little else was clear in the haze of pain and the awful stench of darkness that felt like damp salt in his throat.

Grimm hadn’t simply retrieved him from the void. He’d put him into his old body, which meant he’d found it somewhere in the Dream World. And he hadn’t bothered to heal any of it. Would he continue to rot and decompose? Die properly, then, as all things did when their organs shut down?

“You will have to settle for mine instead,” Grimm continued. He crouched in front of the wyrm, wings pooling at his feet, claws coming up to settle on his mask, though it did little to disguise the self-satisfied smile that he wore. “More’s the pity for you, I expect.”

A foot settled under his chin and then, violently, it smashed into the bottom of his chin and knocked him onto his back.

Any delusions that he might have held that this was an act of mercy were immediately dispelled. Pain shot through his face, settling as a searing ache in his throat, and he scraped his claws along the ground to brace himself. He felt Soul thrum beneath them, the living pulse of the world, but – where he could have called it, made it sing for him, before, it was distant now, far away, as if at some great height.

“Get up,” Grimm pressed. There was no malice in his tone, despite the violent outburst, but there was also no mercy: it was a command and he expected to be obeyed. “We have places to be.”

A far easier demand to make than to execute. He struggled, claws scrambling over cracked and disheveled rocks, to pull himself upright. Flecks of chitin broke away from his carapace where he’d been kicked and he choked again, gagging. The reflexive urge to vomit rose anew, blurring his vision, but this time – this time it was accompanied by the fleeting chill of fear and the worry that if he let himself become distracted by excising the tiny parasites using his body as host, he would be kicked again for his trouble.

They’d met before, he and the Nightmare King, and he had not found Grimm impressive then. His main feelings toward the butterfly had been that he was a flickering light where his counterpart had been brilliant, and that whatever had birthed nightmare had been something that the blazing light of morning had found repulsive, shameful, a thing to be hidden away in the dark. He’d looked down upon him and was met with coy, mocking terms of endearment, ‘How fascinating, the view from your tower made of glass. May it not come crumbling down upon you bathed in flame, dear wyrm – whatever would you do then?’

It was one meeting. The Pale King had believed they’d never again see one another.

Foolish. Foolish. Foolish.

One could not outrun death.

His stomach lurched and he vomited again. The sensation was a distant one, writhing maggots in his mouth, and each little spit had more and more of them, along with the fractured chunks of his internal mechanisms.

He should not have been alive. No creature deserved to live on in such a state, undead and wrong.

Hadn’t he wanted to spare his kingdom’s people such atrocities? Was that not the point?

Grimm gazed down at him with that unearthly scarlet stare and fury settled in his claws as they dug into the ground for purchase. His mouth curled back in a snarl, bearing needle-like fangs, and when he met the Nightmare’s eyes, a growl rattled in his chest.

He was met with laughter.

“Be careful,” Grimm said, rocking on the ends of his feet, wicked smile lingering on his mask. “Wouldn’t want to disrupt any more parts of your internal organs.” He turned and nudged the mess between them, splattered gelatinous blood solidifying on lifeless dirt, with the end of his paw. “I believe that might be a chunk of your liver.”

The growling subsided. The Pale King dropped his gaze to the chunk of tissue, of flesh, of organ meat within the oozing puddle of bile-filled blood, and then straightened his jaw. It realigned, hinging back on itself, teeth slowly folding downward within his mouth.

It was, indeed, a chunk of his liver.

He should have been dead. He should have wished for such peace. Fear held him in a vice grip, though, and despite the itching sensation that resembled thousands of little feet skittering across his shell, the wyrm made it to his feet. His vision blurred and disoriented him, but he dared not reach out to brace himself, dared not show further that he was struggling in the catastrophic state that he was in.

Grimm needed no further ammunition for the unvoiced laughter and his pride struggled beneath the weight of the blows.

That he should sink so low as to be at the mercy of a creature barely qualifying as a god himself –

That he should be obedient, subservient, to a mere fragment of his enemy’s power that dared to think and breathe on its own –

The thought chafed.

“We have quite the walk ahead of us,” Grimm purred. To hear such a tone from so deep, so damaged a voice, was unsettling. The unadulterated joy in Grimm’s eyes felt like nails slamming through the wyrm to his core and he looked at the ground rather than meet laughing scarlet. “Dirtmouth. You do remember the way, do you not? To your little hub town, your connection to the outside world? When all else of your kingdom lay in ruins, they yet live on. The further from your grace they are, the more stable they remain.”

Dirtmouth…?

The name brought to mind images of small, dilapidated buildings and a failed tram project that he’d meant to connect Hallownest with; it brought to mind great cliffs and the moth tribe’s altar to the morning in the distance; it brought to mind the howling cliffs and transients who knew little about his kingdom and even less about its monarch. He’d largely left Dirtmouth as it was, with it serving as a waypoint for those coming from the wastes who would have sought greater prospects in the underground kingdom.

It did not surprise him to hear it was largely untouched by the plague of dreams. Why attack those who meant nothing to him, when there were so many that she could hurt him with?

She’d left them to the tender care of her counterpart, ambassador of death that he was, it would seem. Whether or not his wings were merciful would remain to be seen.

The Pale King wanted to ask Grimm if he would be gentle when he swept Hallownest into oblivion. That was what the Nightmare Troupe did, was it not? They came to the ruins of a dying land and feasted on its corpse, carrion creatures that they were, and then they left it barebones and forgotten. He’d encountered many in the wilds, before he’d become… this. He knew how they operated. Not with malice, but with purpose. Was it so for the butterfly and his people?

Words failed. He had no way to ask.

He had no right to, either.

He’d failed Hallownest and all hope that he had for a better future hinged on a plan that required sacrifice after sacrifice, death after death, links in a chain, congruent suffering until their lives all ran out.

Time frozen. The last eternal kingdom.

What a fool he’d been. What a fool he still was.

He let Grimm lead the way and fell into shambling steps behind him, each movement its own new agony, muscles and shell pulling on parts of his body that should have dissolved long ago. The void was taking its time reminding him of his failure over and over again, and as much as he longed to argue, he could not.

Hallownest was dying and there was nothing that he could do about it. Grimm’s presence there was proof.

But why was he alive?

The question was answered by an all-too-familiar mantra within his mind, made up of thousands of voices overlaying over top of one another. A chill made him tremble anew as he recognized his own words recited back to him in empty, callous answer:  

No cost too great.

No mind to think.

No will to break.

No voice to cry suffering.

Born of God and Void.

You shall seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams.

You are the vessel.

But the last line –

The last line never came.

[formula1bby]

Fortune Favors the Brave Ch. 1

Carlos Sainz x driver!fem!oc

wc: 8216

SLOW BURN MULTIPART STORY, begins in 2019 but we will be jumping around slightly just bc I will not survive writing out every season until the current one XD Later on in the story there will be references to an oc for a different story that I will also be releasing a teaser for within the next couple of weeks but as of right now she is not relevant to Aaliyah's story.

Warnings: descriptions of a panic/anxiety attack, obnoxious reporters, lots of swearing XD

A/N: welp, it's finally here! After almost a year of me talking about this I actually finished editing chapter 1! Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be included in the tag list for this!

Formula One is a dream for many drivers, yet so few of them actually get to achieve that dream. It’s such a cruel fate that these drivers face but for those that are able to turn their dreams into reality, it’s everything. One such lucky driver was 18 year old Aaliyah Thompson. She had the fortunate opportunity to be a full time driver for Toro Rosso in 2017, straight out of winning the Formula Renault 2.0 Litre championship in 2016. She quickly showed her merit and earned eight points at her first Grand Prix (in a less than adequate car), proving those that doubted her wrong. Although, some say that Aaliyah making it into Formula One was just as cruel a fate as never achieving that dream. Being the first female driver to actually start a grand prix since Lella Lombardi in 1976 as well as the youngest driver to have ever entered a grand prix, being only 16 years old in her first season, meant people held her to a very different set of standards. Any mistake meant that her seat would be questioned immediately and the media, who were always breathing down her neck like wolves, would get that misstep they’d been waiting for and pounce.

Aaliyah would be lying if she ever said she regretted her decision to sign with Toro Rosso. Sure, it was hard and the competition she faced in F1 was much more difficult than Formula Renault, but this was her dream and she’d be damned if she let anyone or anything dampen that for her.

Walking through the parking lot, Aaliyah groaned at the horde of media surrounding the entrance to the paddock. Maggie, her PR manager and best friend, lightly smacked Aaliyah’s arm to remind her cameras were everywhere, including the Netflix camera that was going to be following them for the whole weekend.

“Play nice, please,” Maggie said. “You don’t have to answer any questions yet since your first media appearance isn’t until noon, but at least look like you’re happy to see people.”

“I know, I know,” Aaliyah agreed, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m just not ready for everyone to ask about it.”

Maggie looked sympathetically at the 18 year old as they walked into the paddock for the first race of the 2019 season. They scanned their badges and, as expected, people immediately started asking Aaliyah about her crash and shoving microphones in her face.

“Are you nervous to drive in another grand prix after your crash in Mexico last year?” one reporter tried to ask Aaliyah.

“She’s not answering any questions right now,” Maggie explained, pushing the reporter away. “She has a scheduled media appearance at noon, you can talk to her then.”

Aaliyah could feel her throat tightening as people still tried to shout questions at her and blocked their path to the AlphaTauri hospitality. Maggie tried to explain loudly to them that they weren’t taking any questions right now, but the reporters either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Aaliyah felt her breathing shorten as she began to hyperventilate. She looked calm to the cameras but anyone that knew her could tell she was anything but. Aaliyah tapped Maggie’s bicep three times, a signal the two had come up with that would let Maggie know they needed to get out of whatever situation asap. Maggie noticed it and immediately grabbed Aaliyah’s arm and pulled her through the swarm of reporters, no regard for who she bumped into.

Once they were out of the swarm, Maggie fell back in step beside Aaliyah so she could check on her.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. Aaliyah shook her head in response, trying to hold back tears until they got to hospitality. “Do you want to stop walking?” Another head shake. “Alright, let’s get you to hospitality then.”

Aaliyah nodded and the two sped walked to hospitality and were greeted by cool air conditioning as they finally got away from all of the prying cameras, telling the Netflix camera to give them space. Some of the AlphaTauri workers tried to greet Aaliyah but were instantly silenced by the look Maggie gave them. She pulled Aaliyah into her driver’s room and set her down on the couch.

Aaliyah’s face was blank as she tried to focus on her breathing. Hot tears were falling down her face when she couldn’t calm down. She could faintly hear someone talking to her but couldn’t make out any of the words. Her vision was blurring and she started grabbing at her head and pulling at her hair, wanting this panic attack to stop. She felt her hands being gently pulled away from her head and soothing circles being rubbed into her palms. One of her hands was placed on the person’s, Aaliyah supposed it was Maggie’s, chest so that she could feel her breathing and replicate it. Aaliyah did her best to take slow, deep breaths and found herself calming down.

“Liyah?” she heard Maggie say. “If you can hear me, know that you’re safe. We’re in your driver room and there are no cameras and no media in here. It’s just me and you.”

Aaliyah nodded, letting Maggie know that she could hear her. Closing her eyes, Aaliyah continued to focus on her breathing and Maggie’s soothing voice. It felt like an eternity before Aaliyah opened her eyes and saw Maggie, crouched in front of her, holding her hands to ground her.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah shakily said. “I d-d-don’t kn-know what ha-hap-happened.”

There was that damn stutter again. Aaliyah didn’t miss it but knew that she got like this when she was shaken up. Just another unseen side effect of her concussion from last season.

“It’s alright, Liyah,” Maggie assured, sitting down next to the girl and rubbing circles on her back. “I should have gotten you out of there sooner, that one is on me.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” she said, taking time to think about what she was saying to stop her stutter. “Unfortunately the media just fucking sucks.”

Maggie laughed as Aaliyah continued to calm down from her panic attack. The two friends talked about anything not related to racing or the media until Noah, Aaliyah’s trainer, knocked on the door lightly. Maggie got up and opened the door to let the British man into the room, the Netflix cameras following him.

“How’s my favorite driver doing?” he asked as he set his bag on the massage table.

“Had a panic attack already so I’m doing peachy,” she said with a laugh and a cheeky smile.

Noah looked over to Maggie to see her response to this and Maggie just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, just glad to see Aaliyah back to herself. Maggie bid Noah and Aaliyah goodbye after reminding the two to not let Aaliyah be late to the media conference with both of them telling her they would be there on time.

“Alright,” Noah said, pulling a resistance band out of his bag for Aaliyah to use. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your hair up however you’re gonna have it for the track walk later before we get started.”

Aaliyah nodded and started putting her hair in braids while chatting with Noah.

“Shit,” Aaliyah said as she got to the end of the first braid. “I don’t have any hair ties.”

Noah was immediately handing her one he kept on his wrist at all times for her. It was something he learned very quickly after becoming her trainer, that she always lost hair ties and never found them again so he had to always have one or two on him. Aaliyah and Noah talked some more about the schedule for the day as Aaliyah finished her other braid, accepting the other hair tie from Noah.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” Aaliyah responded. “I’m still nervous but if I don’t get back to it now and start strong, I might never be back to normal.”

“Makes sense,” Noah said, handing Aaliyah the resistance band. “I’m proud of you, though.”

Aaliyah smiled at Noah, who was more of a friend than just a trainer to her. She started doing exercises with the resistance band as she talked some more with Noah. He told her about how his fiancee, Bridget, was doing and showed her pictures of their son. Aaliyah checked her phone to see that her boyfriend had texted her. Smiling, she opened the message app and responded to his good luck message, ending it with an “I love you”.

“That Jake you’re messaging?” Noah asked the teen.

“Yeah,” she said, putting her phone away. “He couldn’t come to this weekend’s race. Said he had a shoot he and his team were doing and couldn’t change the date.”

Noah nodded, understanding that since Jake was a content creator he also had an incredibly busy schedule. That being said, he was a little annoyed because he knew Jake had promised Aaliyah he would be there for her first race of the season. Noah always looked out for Aaliyah, seeing her as his kid sister since he was almost 10 years older than her. When she had started dating Jake right after Abu Dhabi the previous year, he was hesitant to accept him but quickly realized how happy he made Aaliyah. That made him okay in Noah’s book.

“Do you want to go say hi to the other drivers?” Noah asked as he packed his bag back up.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Aaliyah agreed, putting her hat and sunglasses on.

The two left the driver room and walked around the paddock, a Netflix camera following them the whole time. Aaliyah saw Daniel from a mile away, walking with Kevin, and ran up to him, jumping onto his back. He stumbled a bit before holding onto her legs to keep her from falling off, both of them laughing wildly.

“Hey, kiddo!” he greeted. “How you going?”

“Doing alright,” she responded, sliding off of Daniel’s back and giving him a proper hug. “Bit of a rough morning but I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“Media pestering you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I need to fight anyone?”

“Not yet.”

Aaliyah greeted Kevin with a hug as well, always having a soft spot for the older man. The three chatted as they walked to the media area. They were grouped together for the press conference, which Aaliyah was very excited about. Checo completed the group for the press conference and they chatted as they waited for their cue to go sit down. Checo noticed that Aaliyah’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes but told himself he would talk to her later so that he didn’t take her focus away from the task at hand. He was glad that he was in her group for the press conference, feeling like he had a duty to help protect her from the media.

“Checo?” Aaliyah asked, speaking Spanish. “You alright?”

“Just a bit nervous for the first race of the season, mija,” he said, not wanting her to know he was worried about her. “You know how it is: the media is gonna throw a lot at us today.”

Aaliyah’s face screwed up in disgust, knowing all too well the types of questions she’d be asked today. Maggie had prepped her as best as she could but everyone knew that it would still be rough on her.

“Yeah, fuck them.”

Checo let out a loud laugh, drawing Daniel and Kevin out of their conversation to look at the two with confusion and amusement. Their PR managers quickly shushed them, knowing that if they were too loud everyone inside the press room could hear them. A few minutes later, the previous group cleared out of the press room and the group of four entered. They took their seats, Aaliyah sitting between Checo and Kevin, and put their mics on, giggling to each other about a snarky comment Aaliyah had made directly before they all walked in.

“Welcome,” a reporter said after they’d all settled down. “How are you guys?” A mix of ‘good’ and ‘excited’ were said in response. “I have a question for all of you: how are you feeling going into this race, it being the first one of the season?”

“I’ll start,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I’m excited. You know, we have a good car this year and I’m looking forward to making some pretty epic moments with the team.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, going down the line. “I think it’ll be a good season. The car felt good during testing and I’m sure there will be a learning curve for it, but I’m optimistic this year.”

“I’m excited,” Aaliyah said with a grin. “It’s gonna be a great season and I’m super stoked to be teamed up with Alex this year. He seems like a great driver and I’m counting on a lot of fun battles on track.”

“It will be a very interesting season,” Checo said. “I’m looking forward to this race and I hope to earn some good points this weekend.”

The next five minutes were filled with questions for the four drivers. Aaliyah was both relieved and surprised that there had been no questions about her Mexico crash. Her relief was short-lived, however, when a particularly invasive reporter asked a question.

“I have a question for Aaliyah,” he started. “How are you feeling starting a new season so soon after your crash in Mexico? Don’t you think it’s too early for your mental state to handle the stress? Have you questioned your place and ability in this sport since your crash and the comments that everyone made about you?”

Checo was about to speak up to defend Aaliyah when she lightly touched his leg with a finger under the table, telling him it was okay.

“I don’t know, because that was definitely more than one question,” Aaliyah started, pointing out his lack of press conference etiquette. “How do you feel about trying to make someone relive trauma for your story?”

“So you’re not gonna give me an answer?” the reporter asked.

“Hell no,” Aaliyah responded with an incredulous chuckle. “If you can’t be respectful when you interview someone that recently went through something incredibly traumatic then you don’t deserve answers to your questions.”

“I’m just trying to get answers to questions we’re all wondering.”

“Stay wondering then.”

Checo gave Aaliyah a look, silently asking if she was okay. She subtly nodded back, taking a deep breath as the next reporter asked a question. Kevin kept looking over at Aaliyah throughout the rest of the media conference, making sure she was fine.

“We have time for one last question,” the facilitator told everyone.

“My question is for Aaliyah,” a female reporter spoke up. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about your crash and how you’re feeling, it was obviously traumatic for you, but I was just wondering if you would be willing to tell us a bit about how you got back on your feet afterwards. It was truly inspirational seeing you come back to the track as soon as possible last season and I would love for you to share with us what motivated you in your quick recovery.”

Aaliyah smiled softly at the woman. Finally, someone that treats me like a person. She thought.

“I appreciate you asking that in such a respectful way,” Aaliyah started, giving a pointed glare to the reporter that had been so rude to her before. “Yeah, honestly it has been a super long healing process for me. Physically, I was completely healed before Abu Dhabi. Mentally,” a pause. “Mentally I’m still healing. Like I’ve said, and been very open about, it was incredibly traumatic. Thankfully I’ve had an awesome support system with my friends, family, my team, and my boyfriend. It’s really because of them that I was able to get back in the car so soon after my crash. Plus, I’ve always said that part of the reason I’m here is to show girls that they can do whatever they want and that nothing can keep them down for long. So long answer short: I had lots of support from friends and family and wanted to make sure I’m a good role model for other girls and women.”

“Thank you,” the reporter responded. “I wish you all the best as you continue to recover.”

Aaliyah nodded in thanks as the facilitator ended the press conference. The four drivers took their mics off and walked out of the room, meeting their PR managers outside. Maggie gave Aaliyah a hug, sorry she couldn’t stop the first reporter from asking about her crash.

“Liyah,” Kevin started, getting the young driver’s attention. “You okay?”

“Honestly,” Aaliyah said, side-hugging Maggie. “Not really. But I’ll get over it. It’s not too different from any other season where reporters don’t respect me.”

“That’s not something you should get used to,” Kevin noted.

“I know,” she said, resting her head against Maggie’s shoulder. The blonde wrapped an arm around her friend for comfort. “But if I don’t get used to it, I’ll continue to be affected by it. And I’m sick of crying after every press conference and interview.”

The three drivers looked at her with a tinge of pity. Even though they knew that media duties were always rough for the 18 year old, they were unaware of the extent of the toll it took on her. Maggie glanced at her watch and pulled Aaliyah away from the uncomfortable situation by saying that she had to do her track walk soon and needed to meet up with her team. Aaliyah gave them all a hug in parting and said she’d talk to them later that evening.

“I’m gonna get that reporter fired,” Maggie said, referring to the rude reporter. Aaliyah laughed as Maggie continued her incredibly unprofessional rant. “Seriously! Who does he think he is? Talking to you like that. I’ll shave my head before I let anyone disrespect you like that.”

Aaliyah laughed loudly as the two friends walked back to the AlphaTauri hospitality. The two made it back and Alex was sitting in the lounge area, eating some of the snacks available to them. Aaliyah smiled as she parted ways with Maggie, who was likely off to plan something for Aaliyah to do, to sit down across from her rookie teammate.

“Hey, Alex!” she greeted as she sat down. “How are you?”

“Oh hey, Liyah!” he said around a mouthful of crisps. “I’m doing alright, less nervous today than I thought I would be, but I’m sure I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

Aaliyah laughed a bit at his response. It was odd, she was the younger one on the team but was the more experienced driver. Alex looked up to her to follow her lead. Not literally of course, Aaliyah was much too short for that to be a possibility.

“It’s honestly not that bad once you’re in the car,” Aaliyah assured, sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. “Yes, the cars are different from other Formula series’ but it’s racing just like you’ve done your whole life. You’ll do grand, I’m sure.”

“I appreciate that, thank you,” Alex said honestly. “How was your press conference, by the way?”

“Long answer or short answer?” Aaliyah asked, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got time.”

Aaliyah laughed at Alex’s response before telling him about the press conference, going into great detail (per his request) about the rude reporter she had called out. Alex was just as appalled as Maggie and was ready to get up and punch the reporter for his treatment of Aaliyah.

“He really said that to you?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” she responded. “I was kind of expecting questions about it, but definitely nothing like that. It kind of shook me up a bit.”

“Understandable.” A pause. “I’m gonna fight him.”

“I think you’ll have to get in line,” Aaliyah joked. “Checo, Dan, and Maggie have first dibs. Maggie said something about getting him fired and shaving her head before she let someone talk to me like that.” Alex laughed at this, easily seeing the fiery blonde saying that. “It was all very unprofessional but sweet nonetheless so I’m not gonna snitch on her.”

Maggie, of course, chose that moment to walk back into the lounge area. Aaliyah laughed at the timing as her PR manager raised an eyebrow at her and went to stand behind Aaliyah on the couch. She rested her hands on her shoulders, gripping them lightly, before speaking.

“What’s this I hear about you snitching on me?” she asked.

“No, I said I wasn’t snitching on you,” Aaliyah clarified with a chuckle.

Maggie released Aaliyah from her grasp before immediately jumping back to business. Alex laughed at the interaction between the two, clearly seeing how close they were. Maggie finished telling Aaliyah her schedule for the rest of the day and stayed to chat for a few minutes longer.

“How long have you guys known each other?” Alex asked.

“I think we met my second to last year of karting?” Aaliyah asked Maggie to clarify.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “It was one of the races where you beat my brother. He was not happy about it but I remember thinking I wanted to be friends with you.”

“And now she won’t leave me alone,” she joked to Alex.

Maggie smacked Aaliyah on the back of the head, rolling her eyes. Aaliyah let out an undignified noise at the contact and rubbed the back of her head where it had been hit, protesting that she recently had a concussion. Alex let out a loud laugh at the two’s interaction. Maggie gave Aaliyah a light tap on top of her head and said goodbye, saying she was leaving to get lunch for her and Aaliyah.

“Were you nervous before your first race weekend in F1?” Alex quietly asked the younger girl once Maggie had left.

Aaliyah smiled at Alex softly. She knew the nerves and the media were likely getting to him much more than he had been letting on.

“I was terrified,” Aaliyah said with a chuckle. “I was paired up with a more experienced and older driver, I was driving for the junior team of a team that had recently been champions for four consecutive years, and I was gonna be surrounded by a bunch of guys I didn’t know. Obviously my experience is different from yours, but if I ended up doing well, you’ll do just fine. You’re more experienced than I was when I joined.”

“Thanks, Liyah,” he said sincerely.

“Of course, Alex,” she responded.

“Is Jake going to be here at all this weekend?” Alex asked as he shoved more crisps into his mouth.

“No,” Aaliyah said, tired smile on her face. “He said he had a shoot he was doing for a big video and they couldn’t change the shoot date so close to it.”

“Didn’t you say he promised he’d be here for your first race of the season?”

“I did say that, yes. Apparently money is more important than supporting me and attending our first race weekend as a couple.”

“That’s messed up.”

Aaliyah nodded, clearly annoyed by her boyfriend’s decisions. As Alex looked at her, his eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. He had met Jake a few times during pre-season events and each time made him wonder what on earth Aaliyah saw in him. She was so much more mature, successful, and overall pleasant to be around than the guy she chose to date. They seemed happy, so Alex didn’t say anything. He really wanted to though. Aaliyah already felt like his sister and even though he knew she didn’t need him to protect her, he felt like he had an obligation to look out for her.

At that moment, Aaliyah’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that Max was calling her. Sighing, she put the phone to her ear.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“How come you think I need something every time I call you? Can’t I just want to talk to my best friend?” the Dutch man asked.

“You can but you never do,” Aaliyah responded with a laugh.

“I’m coming over and we’re talking about it.”

The smile fell off of Aaliyah’s face after hearing that. She knew Max knew her better than almost everyone, besides her family and Lance, and he knew how much she was really affected by the media that day.

“Okay.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Aaliyah sighed and ended the call. Alex looked at her, worried.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Max being an annoyingly good best friend,” she responded.

That was an unexpected twist for Alex, but he decided to leave whatever the two friends were going to talk about between them. Aaliyah and Alex made small talk in the lounge area until Max barged into the AlphaTauri hospitality and made eye contact with Aaliyah. Alex laughed as Aaliyah hung her head and followed Max to her driver’s room as he scolded her for not telling him what happened in the press conference and how he had to find out from Daniel. He closed the door to her room and crossed his arms as he looked at her. She took her hat off and set it down as she turned to look at Max, more accurately to avoid his gaze by looking anywhere but him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I was going to tell you,” Aaliyah started. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Aaliyah,” he sighed.

“I know! Okay?! I know!” she snapped. “You told me to tell you if something like this happened and you told me to not be snarky. But I couldn’t help it! He was being an ass!”

Max waited for Aaliyah to calm down from her outburst, knowing she needed it and wouldn’t do this in front of anyone else aside from Lance, Checo, and maybe Pierre. Aaliyah looked at him and Max saw how vulnerable she really felt. He said her name softly and pulled her into a tight hug. She let her tears fall, completely overwhelmed by the day already. Max held his friend until he knew she was okay and she started pulling away. He watched as she wiped her face free of tears and turned to look in the mirror in her driver room to wipe away any mascara that had smudged.

“You feel better now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing her water bottle and taking a sip. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Max said, giving the younger girl another hug. “You’re stuck with me.”

“There’s worse people to be stuck with,” she joked. “Can you even imagine if I was stuck with Robert?”

Max laughed out loud at this. It’s not that either of them disliked Kubica, but he definitely would not be at the top of Aaliyah’s list of people she’d go to when she needed someone. The two friends waited in Aaliyah’s driver room until she was completely composed and no longer looked like she had just been crying. Aaliyah led Max to the front door of the hospitality and gave him a hug before sending him on his merry way. Turning back around, Alex was scrolling on social media on the couch and gave Aaliyah a smile as she walked back over to the sitting area. She followed his lead and pulled out her phone to scroll through various media feeds, eventually settling on watching videos on YouTube.

At some point Maggie and Alex’s PR manager brought food back for lunch and the four of them ate together in the lounge area. When they were done, they cleaned up and Aaliyah went to her driver room to grab her hat and came back out to see her team ready to go to the track for their track walk. Aaliyah put her hat on and grabbed a water bottle from Maggie’s hand. Putting on her sunglasses, Aaliyah told her team she was ready and they all bid their goodbyes to those present in the hospitality and made their way to the track.

Walking through the paddock was rough. Aaliyah was the hot topic of the season start despite the season’s three rookies, the dramatic end of her Mexico Grand Prix the prior season not losing any of its headlining ability yet, causing reporters to flock to her in the hopes they could glean a bit of that popularity for themselves. Aaliyah did her best to ignore the media as her team formed a sort of barricade around her to protect her from prying eyes and loud, invasive questions. When they finally got to the track, her team allowed Aaliyah to walk onto it first to escape the reporters. They quickly followed her lead and began their track walk.

Aaliyah couldn’t help but let her mind wander a bit on the track. She always ended up making her team do multiple laps on track so that she could get a good feel for it, something that the media had lovingly dubbed “fortune telling” (the term going hand-in-hand with the nickname “Miss Fortune” that they had also given her) since she almost always had a more accurate reading of the track than her competitors.

“What do you think, Liyah?” Jacques asked his driver, his British accent a familiar voice to her ears.

Aaliyah was snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at her race engineer with wide eyes. She smiled sheepishly and Jacques laughed, knowing she didn’t have a clue what they had been talking about.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“It’s alright,” Jacques said with a smile. “I was asking what you thought about this turn and how you think you’ll be able to go with it?”

Aaliyah stood still and examined the entrance, apex, and exit of the turn with careful eyes. It was a sight to see, the girl becoming incredibly serious very quickly, a sight that her team tried to never take for granted. They enjoyed watching her process, especially because she always gave them great insight about the practicalities of the track and how she could realistically drive it. Crouching down, Aaliyah placed a hand on the track lightly. She wasn’t a superstitious person, but she was a little stitious. She didn’t think the track could literally talk to her, but she could almost feel how the track felt on those days. It didn’t make sense to any of the other drivers or the engineers, some of them regularly teasing her for it, but ultimately they accepted that her readings were pretty accurate more often than not. Aaliyah studied the track with scrutiny, hoping to glean any information that she could from it.

“How does it feel?” Jacques asked the girl.

“Not sure yet,” Aaliyah responded. “Not bad, not good, just… nothing right now. May need to do a few more laps before I can really tell.”

Jacques nodded, accepting her answer. She would always tell him what the track felt like to her so that he could change strategies accordingly. Her strategists also made sure to take her readings into account, knowing all too well what could happen if they didn’t. On good weekends, Aaliyah described the track as warm, not like warm weather, more like the fuzzy feeling you get when surrounded by the people you love. An inviting feeling, for sure. Those were the weekends that everyone could expect her to do extraordinarily well and she normally delivered the expected or better results. Naturally, those were Aaliyah’s favorites. Some weekends, the track didn’t feel warm, but it also didn’t feel like the cold that filled her when the track felt bad. Those weekends were a toss-up about what would happen. When the track felt bad, it was a cold that washed over Aaliyah as if she was in primary school and about to give a speech. It made her nervous, but she wasn’t filled with dread. Those races, more often than not, she didn’t deliver the results that were expected of her.

The worst of the feelings, Aaliyah had only experienced a handful of times in her entire racing career, but it was an unforgettable feeling. It was the cold dread that didn’t just wash over her, it poured down on her continually the entire weekend. Imagine standing on the edge of an unstable cliff with no safety gear ensuring your safe return home and certain doom if you were to fall. That was the worst feeling Aaliyah had ever experienced. She felt it at Mexico the year prior and back in Formula Renault once or twice. Every time, she had a bad crash and didn’t finish the race.

Aaliyah was jumpscared out of her reverie by Daniel Ricciardo biking past her with a loud “Whooop!” Placing a hand on her chest to calm down, Aaliyah flipped Daniel off as he sped away. He glanced back at the girl and his grin somehow got bigger as he laughed loudly at her reaction.

“I hope you fall!” Aaliyah yelled after him, not really meaning it. “Aussies, am I right?”

Her team laughed with the British girl before getting on with the rest of the track walk. They walked around the track twice so that they could get better bearings on the track conditions. Deciding they got all the information they needed, Aaliyah’s team told her they were going to head back to the garage to come up with a plan for practice and to let them know when she got a better read on the track herself. Noah stayed behind with her to chat as the rest of their team left.

“You get a good reading yet?” Noah asked his friend.

“It’s weird,” Aaliyah started, looking at Noah. “For a second there I thought it felt pretty good but now? Now I just feel nothing. Not good or bad.”

“We’ll let the strategy guys know then,” he said with a smile. “I’m always amazed by your readings, have I ever told you that?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she responded with a chuckle. “I could stand to hear it more often. Too many people say it’s weird.”

“Fuck them, then,” Noah grimaced. “It’s incredible because you’re almost always more accurate than the others.”

“You’re too good to me, Noah,” Aaliyah said with a smile.

“Nah,” he disagreed, pulling the girl into his side in a hug. “I’m not good enough to you. Even if you’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“There it is,” she laughed, knowing he could never be sentimental for too long.

The two laughed as they made their way off the track and into the garage to greet the engineers. Aaliyah said hello to both sides of the AlphaTauri garage before heading back to the hospitality to do some of the social media duties Maggie had told her about prior to the track walk. She waved to some fans and took pictures with some people that were in the paddock before finally reaching the refuge that was the hospitality.

Noah let her walk in first to escape the mass of people and cameras that were trying to follow her. Alex was no longer in the sitting area of the hospitality but Maggie was there to greet Aaliyah and Noah. The three went to Aaliyah’s driver room to get Aaliyah ready for the social media videos. Aaliyah sat down on the couch and took off her hat and sunglasses, setting them on a small table next to her.

“Drink water,” Maggie told Aaliyah, handing her a water bottle. “You look pale.”

“Thanks, mum,” Aaliyah said with a light smirk.

She didn’t actually argue with Maggie and drank the water given to her. Noah and Aaliyah chatted as Maggie finalized a few things on her phone and let in one of the team photographers to take some natural pictures to start off the weekend. Maggie finally finished whatever it was she had been doing and turned to Aaliyah.

“Okay, Liyah,” she started. “You have one more social media video to make showing off your helmet for the year and then you’ll be free for the rest of the day.”

“Free as in I get to leave or free as in I have to stay in case something comes up?” she asked with a cheeky smile.

“Free as in you get to leave, brat,” Maggie said, lightly smacking Aaliyah’s head with her folder. “Your helmet is in the bag on the table. Also make sure you bring a new sharpie tomorrow, you’ll have to sign some things before and after practice.”

Aaliyah nodded as she got up and grabbed her helmet for the 2019 season. It was her favorite helmet that she’d had so far, with swirling reds and yellows adorning the majority of the surface area. Her six-year-old brother, Leo, had helped her design it with input from their ten-year-old brother, Hunter. She sat back down on the couch and held the helmet in her hands to show it off to the camera that was about to be recording her. Maggie gave her a thumbs up, telling her it had started and Aaliyah began talking.

“Hello, everyone, Liyah here!” Aaliyah started with a grin. “I hope you’re all as excited as me for the start of the new season and I wanted to share with you guys my helmet for the 2019 season.” She lifted it up higher to better show the camera what it looked like. “It was actually designed by my two younger brothers and refined by my sister and myself. My youngest brother really clung to the Red Bull colors of yellow and red and did some sweeping waves for the beach town we grew up in in England and my other brother included a paw print of the family dog that he somehow coerced her to cooperate for.” She turned the helmet so the visor was facing her and pointed out the paw print with the dog’s name underneath to the camera. “This helmet doesn’t have some huge symbolism or anything, it’s mostly a testament to my family and how much they mean to me. It’s really a way for me to stay close to them while I’m on track, which is something I started last year after Mexico when I put a picture of them in my helmet.” She let the helmet go lower in frame as she finished the video off. “Anyways, thank you guys for your support and I can’t wait to see you all this season! Liyah out.”

She gave a two finger salute and Maggie ended the recording.

“Nicely done, Liyah,” she said, turning the camera off to put it away. “Alright, I want to head back to the hotel so that I can edit this and get it up right away on your channels and send it to Mike for the AlphaTauri channels. Once you’re packed up, we’ll head out, okay?”

Aaliyah nodded and got up to pack her stuff up. It was a quick process since most of it was still in her bag. Putting her helmet away and zipping up her bag, Aaliyah was ready and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Noah and Maggie both stood up and the three walked out together, saying goodbye to those that were in the common area of the hospitality. They walked out to the carpark, completely ignoring any reporters that were being obnoxious and yelling questions at Aaliyah. She did, however, stop for photos with some fans and signed some things when asked. They finally made it out to the carpark and Maggie and Aaliyah said goodbye to Noah, knowing they probably wouldn’t see him again before the next morning.

“You cool if I drive?” Aaliyah asked Maggie, knowing that sometimes Maggie couldn’t handle someone else driving her.

“I appreciate the concern,” Maggie said. “But I never mind you driving me. Noah on the other hand…”

Maggie trailed off and the two girls laughed as they put their bags in the boot of the car and got in. It was a relatively short drive back to the hotel and the music that Maggie played made it seem that much shorter. Once they got to the hotel and parked, they grabbed their bags out of the car and walked in together. Their rooms were on the same floor so they accompanied each other in the elevator and separated to go down the hallways that held their respective rooms.

“Thank god,” Aaliyah said quietly as she unlocked her hotel room and walked inside.

She immediately dumped her bag on the chair in the living room and went straight back to the bedroom so that she could get ready for either a bath or shower, she hadn’t decided which one she wanted yet. She had taken off her shoes and belt and was about to take off her shirt when there was a knock at her door. Quietly groaning, Aaliyah walked to her front door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Carlos standing at her door.

The two were pretty good friends, having been teammates during Aaliyah’s rookie season with Toro Rosso, and often checked up with each other at least once every race weekend. There were some exceptions of course, but generally they would make a point to see each other outside of the paddock every race weekend.

Aaliyah sighed a bit and opened the door to her friend.

“Do you do this often, Sainz?” she asked teasingly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“Knock on women’s hotel doors immediately after they get back,” Aaliyah chuckled.

Carlos’ eyes widened a bit, worried he was intruding now, and he started to turn to leave while talking.

“Sorry,” he started. “I didn’t realize you had only just got back from the circuit. I can leave you for the night?”

Aaliyah laughed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from actually leaving.

“I’m kidding, Carlos,” she said in Spanish. “You are more than welcome to keep me company for a while tonight.”

Carlos smiled as Aaliyah gestured for him to go into her hotel room. He walked in and gawked at the size.

“Your room is this big?” he asked incredulously. “Mine looks like a closet compared.”

“It’s the Red Bull money,” Aaliyah laughed as the door closed behind her. “That and the brand new sponsor.”

Carlos let out a hum of agreement as Aaliyah went to her bedroom and grabbed clothes to change into, announcing to her friend that she would be out shortly. She closed the door of the bedroom and quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and tossed one of Jake’s hoodies over her shirt, the piece of clothing dwarfing her given the height difference between her and her boyfriend. Aaliyah pulled her hair out of the braids and into a ponytail before walking back out to Carlos.

“Is that Jake’s?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah,” Aaliyah said in Spanish. “He gave it to me before I left for Australia.”

“Didn’t he say at dinner last month that he would join you this weekend?” he asked, confused as to why she was alone for the race weekend.

“He did,” she responded, clearly upset by the fact that he wasn’t there as she plopped onto the couch and set her feet in his lap at the other end. “But he said that they had a video shoot that they couldn’t change the date for and apparently it’s a huge one.”

“But still,” Carlos started, his face screwing up in distaste for Jake’s actions. “That’s not right to cancel on you like that, especially since it would be your first race after announcing your relationship.” Aaliyah nodded with a tired smile but Carlos wasn’t done with his rant yet. “Not to mention all of the times that you didn’t go to parties and events because you were going to one of his video shoots. He needs to do the same for you.”

“You’re preaching to the choir right now, Carlos,” Aaliyah said with a dry laugh. “But there’s nothing I can do about it right now and I want to have that conversation when neither of us have some big event happening.”

Carlos hummed in agreement with Aaliyah’s plan and the two fell into a comfortable silence. They sat like that, Aaliyah’s feet still in Carlos’ lap and his arm resting on her calves, for a few minutes before Aaliyah started to reach for the remote to turn the tv on. As she grabbed it, Carlos began to speak again.

“If I’m being honest,” he started, making Aaliyah pause her action. “This wasn’t just a social call.” She looked at him, confused, as she set the remote back down. “I heard what happened today at your press conference. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Aaliyah shook her head as she let it rest against the back of the couch.

“Is everyone talking about that or something?” she asked, switching back to English and clearly annoyed by the interaction being the gossip of the day. “Who did you even hear about it from?”

“Well,” Carlos started, hesitating to say how he heard of it. With a pointed look from Aaliyah his resolve crumbled and he spoke. “I heard it from Lando who said he heard it from George who said he heard it from Alex.”

“Of course it was the rookies,” Aaliyah said.

There was more silence before Carlos broke the silence. He knew that he shouldn’t have brought it up but he also knew that he needed to talk to Aaliyah about it.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Liyah,” he said. “I know how that kind of stuff affects you. We were teammates after all.”

“I know, Carlos,” Aaliyah said, smiling softly at him. “I do appreciate it, despite what it sounds like.” There was a pause as Aaliyah thought about her response. “I’m doing as well as I can,” she settled on. “It sucks for sure, but I’m alright. I held it together and got through the rest of the conference, which is what matters.”

“What matters is you and your mental health,” Carlos interjected, upset that she was so nonchalant about it. “You say you’re fine, but you don’t even know how bad it’s affecting you. You accept it as an inevitable event that you’ll be disrespected and that shouldn’t be the case.”

Carlos was getting so heated about this that he switched back to Spanish to get his point across. At his comment, Aaliyah stood up and looked down at Carlos.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t stop it if I could?!” she exclaimed. “I would love it if I didn’t have to deal with this every single day of my fucking life. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power because nobody fucking respects me! Of course I shouldn’t accept it as inevitable, but until others also stand up for me it will be! It will always be something I have to deal with just because of my gender and choice of profession. I know that, I accept that. You need to get over your self righteous self and accept it too if you’re not going to try to help make a change.” Aaliyah was out of breath at the end of the rant but she wasn’t done yet. “I understand that you don’t get it, but if you really want things to change, you have to actually be a part of it instead of just telling me how things should be.”

Carlos was left in a stunned silence. He hadn’t expected Aaliyah to react in that way when he brought it up and he wholly regretted asking her about it in that moment. He was about to say something when Aaliyah cut him off.

“I think you need to leave, Carlos,” she said, not in a cold way, just a frustrated one. “It’s been a long day for both of us. We should get some rest before practice tomorrow.”

Carlos got up and left in a flurry of hushed “I’m sorry”. Aaliyah sighed as the door clicked behind him and plopped back down on the couch. It didn’t help that she had already had to deal with Max about the press conference that day as well as the slight twinge of betrayal from finding out Alex was one of the ones that spread the gossip. It wasn’t like she expected for nobody to learn about it, it was televised after all. She had just hoped that it wouldn’t be the source of paddock gossip, she’d already been the center of that too many times.

Aaliyah got up, realizing she still hadn’t showered, and walked to the bathroom to clean off from the day. The Australian sun and heat didn’t do her many favors, leaving her a sweating mess after the day at the track. She showered off, finally being able to relax from the stressful day she had. Setting an alarm, Aaliyah got into bed, hoping to get some rest before getting into the car the following morning.

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

A/N: If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading! I appreciate you! Let me know what you thought of this chapter and let me know if you would like to be put on the taglist! This is a story I have been thinking about and writing for a hot minute now so it seems kinda weird to be sharing this story with everyone else now XD Anywho, I hope you enjoyed <3 See you all later!

Cazza out (^▽^)

[ikeromantic]

Entwined, Ch 8

Part 8 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul. Approx. 2800 words.

Part 1

Previous: Part 7

Mai swam to consciousness slowly, aware first of the feeling of motion. The subtle vibration in the soft leather seat. The press of the safety belt across her chest. The muted rumble of the engine and the tires on the road. Her eyes opened, blurry and blinking. Hills and grass sped by through the window to her right. The sun was high overhead in a blue sky filled with white, fluffy clouds. 

“Awake, little mouse?” Mitsuhide’s hand was on hers, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. 

“Mmm. Yeah.” She smiled at him warmly for a moment, before she remembered what she’d overheard. Mai pulled her hand back, regretting it as soon as she lost his touch. She frowned. “Where are we?”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Well, after you passed out, I thought you might need a break. So I took you along to visit a friend of mine at the coast.”

“I have work to do this afternoon. And errands. I can’t just take the afternoon to - to play with you.” 

“Mmmm. I think you can. I checked that little notebook you keep in your bag. You planned to pick up beading and embroidery notions and work on a custom design for the emperor’s haori in the play, yes?”

Mai nodded.

“Unnecessary. The back won’t show in any of his scenes. So I’ve saved you some time, which means I get to spend it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless there is another objection?”

There was, of course. She knew now that he was in love with some girl from his past. And she knew it shouldn’t matter. Mitsuhide owed her nothing. They were co-workers. Maybe . . . maybe friends? But that didn’t give her the right to feel so - so jealous and hurt and . . . she took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts.

Mitsuhide looked at her with concern. “Mai?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She shook her head, letting the breath out slowly. “Look. Mitsuhide. I don’t . . . I don’t understand you. Why do you want to spend the day with me? How did you even know where to find me this morning?”

He laughed. “A master never reveals his secrets. But in this case I can tell you it was just luck. I saw you hurry off the train and just decided that I wanted to spend time with you today. Even if just as your assistant.”

“But why?” Why do you haunt me and tease me and look at me with those warm, sun-gold eyes when there is someone else you love? And why does it bother me so much?

“Ah.” He was silent for a time, looking out at the road with a thoughtful expression. “Would you believe me if I told you we were lovers in a past life and I’ve spent centuries trying to find you again, just to see your smile one more time?” 

“Mitsuhide . . .” Mai sighed. “You're still teasing me.”

His laughter held a false note, but after a long moment he glanced over at her and his smile was as playful and mischievous as ever. “Is that what I do? Hmm. How naughty of me.”

She looked out the window, accepting that he wasn’t going to give her a serious answer. If she was honest with herself, Mai wasn’t sure what answer she wanted from him. What would she do if he said he wanted to date her? She would just tell him no again, because he was a client. At least . . . she told herself she would. 

“Deep thoughts, little one? Do I trouble you so?”

“You are pretty troublesome,” she shot back. 

He chuckled again, this time more naturally. “I suppose I am. So, are you feeling a little better? You had Ms. Higurashi and her fiance quite worried.”

“I am. I just - I don’t know. I’ve been having these weird thoughts pop into my head. Like something from a historical drama. Except I can’t figure out which one I’m remembering and -” Mai paused, suddenly realizing she must sound a little crazy. “I told you about it before, but it’s like, every time it happens I get these terrible pains in my head. It’s scary.” She paused, taking a shaky breath.

Mitsuhide reached over, taking her hand in his. His gentle grip was warm and unexpectedly reassuring. “It will be alright, little one. I promise.”

And as stupid as it was, him saying so made her feel better. As if Mitsuhide could do anything about whatever was going on in her head. But the way he said it, his certainty, made her relax as if he really could protect her. “Thanks.”

His touch lingered even after she thanked him. Mai expected him to pull his hand away but he didn’t and she didn’t want him to so she said nothing. It really wasn’t fair to like someone so much, she thought. Especially someone still pining for an old flame. 

They pulled into a parking area close enough to the beach that Mai could smell the ocean on the breeze and hear the low thrum of the waves rolling in. The sound set her immediately at ease, relaxing a knot in her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there. 

Mitsuhide looked across at her. “If you have any lingering protest, little mouse, now is the time to voice them. I can take you home if that is what you really want.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. 

“I -” She struggled with herself for a moment. It was absolutely not acceptable that he practically kidnapped her on this little venture, but she had planned to spend the day working on the haori for his play . . . “I suppose we can take the rest of the day. But just so you know, if you were anyone else, this would have some serious weirdo stalker vibes.”

He laughed. “I will take it as a compliment that you let me get away with it, then.” His smile faded as he regarded her. “I appreciate your trust.”

Mai nodded. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Mitsuhide was a dark window to her, reflecting back nothing. She felt unsure of his feelings for her, his intentions. He was a stranger. Inexplicable and mysterious. But her heart said to trust him, even if her head told her she was being foolish. 

Mitsuhide reluctantly released her hand and got out of the car. “Come along little mouse.”

She got out and followed him as he walked through the handful of parked cars. It wasn’t a holiday or a weekend, and the weather was still cool so the beach was mostly empty. The only sound was the waves, which grew louder the closer they got, and the cry of seabirds wheeling overhead. 

The sidewalk ended in a wooden staircase down to the sand. A breeze tugged at Mai’s loose braid and tossed Mitsuhide’s hair around his face. She couldn’t help but watch him from the corner of her eye, careful not to be caught staring. He was smiling in a relaxed way, his eyes soft at the corners as he looked out at the blue ocean. It was such a nice expression, Mai thought. It pulled at something in her chest and set an ache in her heart that made no sense to her. 

“I don’t come to the coast very often,” he said quietly. She had to strain to hear him over the waves and the breeze. “I always forget how it makes me feel to see the horizon.”

Mai nodded. She always loved the beach. Her family took a special holiday to the sea at least once a year, growing up. And she made a point to go with her best friends too. Being here with Mitsuhide felt different though. There was that tug in the core of her, and under that a sense of deja vu. Her head began to ache in rhythm with her heartbeat. 

Mitsuhide seemed to sense that she felt unwell. He took her arm gently and walked with her down the stairs and onto the sand. “It’s just a little further to the house.”

“So. Who is this friend of yours, anyway? Will they be alright with me showing up too?” 

He grinned widely. “He won’t mind. That much I’m sure of.”

The house, it turned out, was more of a shop. Two stories, with a wide, covered porch. The front was decorated with a surfboard hanging above the door, and several swimsuits for men and women hung in the downstairs windows. Inside there were shelves with children’s water toys, buckets and forms for making sandcastles, and little colorful arm floats. Music played in the background, a low thrum of rock music heavy on the drums and bass guitar. 

As soon as they walked in, a man came bounding down a staircase at the back, taking the steps two at a time. He had coppery skin and a shock of white hair worn to his shoulders. His arms were heavily tattooed with sleeves of fish and flowers, his hands were gloved, and he wore a gold band a little too short to be a proper necklace and a little too long to call it a choker. But what stood out more than anything was his eyes. Twin rubies lit with an inner fire. Bright and hot and full of some secret joy. 

“Mitsuhide! You old snake!” The stranger grabbed his arm and shook it. “Long time no see.”

“Motonari.” 

That was when those glinting rubies landed on her. For a moment, Mai couldn’t breathe. She felt as if something were around her neck. She heard the word savvy hissed in her ear and smelled sulfur and hot iron. And then it was gone, and there was just the shop and the two men smiling at her.

“Uh, hi! I’m Mai. It’s nice to-”

“Mai!” And before she could say another word, the stranger pulled her into a hug. “I wondered if I would be seeing you around ag- ahaha. So how are you? What brings you two to the beach today?”

Mitsuhide frowned slightly and pulled Mai closer to him, out of Motonari’s unexpected embrace. “She needed to take a day off, so I kidnapped her and brought her here.”

Motonari laughed, the sound a little manic. “That sounds about right. So what do I owe the pleasure?”

“First, of course, I need to get our lovely Mai some proper beach day clothes. And I had a little something I needed to discuss with you, if there’s time.”

He nodded. “For the lady, if I got it, she can have it. For the other,” he chewed at his lower lip. “We’ll see. I stay out of things now. You know that.”

Mitsuhide smiled as if this were the agreement he hoped for. 

“You two can go talk. I - I really don’t need -” Mai started to protest, but Motonari cut her off.

“Ya got flowers in yer ears, girl? Ya heard the man. You need a bathing suit, a cover up. A sun dress. Something to sit on. A parasol. Don’t be shy.” He grinned, eyes flashing. “This bastard here’ll cover ya so don’t be shy.”

“I insist,” Mitsuhide nodded, shooing her toward the racks.

Mai went, only half reluctantly. She did need a new swimsuit for the summer, if nothing else. She was surprised to find that Motonari had a really nice collection. Burberry, Dior, Versace . . . not the kind of stuff she’d expected given the surf-shop vibe. But she wasn’t complaining. She picked five that looked like they might suit her, two cover-ups because you can’t just pick a swimsuit and not having a matching cover-up! And a sundress that was too cute to say no to. 

They guys were standing off to one side, talking intently. Neither of them looked happy. Curious, she idled a little closer to see if she could innocently overhear. 

“Ya can’t force it,” Motonari said, his raspy voice was low and unhappy.

“I’m not. She’s remembering on her own. I just didn’t expect that it would hurt her.” Mitsuhide’s smile was gone, his jaw tense, lips pressed to a thin line.

Motonari nodded. “Well yeah. What’d you expect? Ya think it’s painless to have a whole life tossed in on top of yer own? Poor girl.”

“I don’t know if it would be better to stay away or no. I want to be there for her when she -” Mitsuhide glanced up, a knowing look in his eye. 

Caught, Mai, shifted from foot to foot. “Uhm. I was just wondering. Where the changing room is?”

“To yer left.” Motonari chuckled. He looked like he knew she’d been eavesdropping too.

Mai hurried off, feeling guilty for what she’d overheard, but curious too. They were talking about her. She knew it. But what did they mean? Remembering a whole life? It was like that stupid joke Mitsuhide made in the car. About her being a lover from a past life. Ridiculous.

She wasn’t sure if she believed in reincarnation any more than she believed in some kind of heaven - or hell for that matter. When people died, they were just gone. No one knew what, if anything, happened past that. It wasn’t that she disagreed with the ideas people had, just that she didn’t think anyone really knew. Much less Mitsuhide Akechi, teaser-in-chief. But he hadn’t looked like he was teasing Motonari. They both looked deadly serious.

Would it be so bad, she wondered, if it were true? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

Mai put it out of her mind as she tried on the first swimsuit. It was a little more daring than she usually wore. Though it was a one-piece, the top and bottom were connected only by winding ribbons of fabric. The bottoms had a high thigh line and the top was two ruched triangles of fabric - just enough to make them ok for a public beach and not a stitch more. 

She thought it looked pretty good on her. Almost like a toga turned swimsuit, with the white and gold accents. Mai checked herself out in the threeway mirror. She had never liked the way her butt looked in a swimsuit, but that wasn’t the suit’s fault.

“Are you planning to hide in there, Mai? Or are you going to show us what you picked?” Mitsuhide called from outside.

“Ya, give us a fashion show, girlie!”

Mai frowned at the curtain. “I haven’t picked anything yet! I’m just trying some on.”

“Then let us help you pick.” Mitsuhide laughed. “Come on. Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not shy,” she shot back, pulling the curtain open. She was, but she didn’t want Mitsuhide to be right. He acted like he knew everything about her and he didn’t. So if he thought she was shy, well . . . Mai stepped out, defiant in her swimwear.

The expression on Mitsuhide’s face was worth the discomfort she felt putting herself on display. His lips parted to let out a startled breath. His eyes were as wide as teacups. He made a little strangled sound from back in his throat, as if he wanted to say something but the words got all tangled up there. 

Motonari whistled. “You got good instincts. That one’ll knock any man out. Makes a guy wonder if yer single?”

“If you’re asking, then yes. I -” Hideyoshi flashed into her mind for a moment. “Nothing serious.” Mai cleared her throat, feeling a touch guilty. She knew he wanted to be more than friends, but she wasn’t ready to take that step. 

“If ya want to change that, I’m on the market.” Motonari shifted his stance slightly, and something about the way he stood emphasized his slim hip, the curve of his strong thighs. He had a certain, rough appeal to him. 

“She has better taste than that.” Mitsuhide finally found his voice, though he sounded a bit breathless. 

Mai grinned. Something about that flicker of jealousy made her feel happy. “So? Is this a good one?”

“I think something a little more . . . covering.” Mitsuhide gestured to a pink, frilly one piece that would cover her from the base of the neck to mid-thigh. 

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Mai tugged at the criss-crossed ribbons on her abdomen. “You really don’t like this one?”

Mitsuhide took a breath, and that was when Mai noticed a tinge of red in his cheeks. “It’s . . . it’s very . . .”

She realized this was her chance to get him back for his earlier teasing. “Very?” Mai turned in a slow circle, trying to move like the models did at fashion shows. Graceful and sinuous, almost like a snake. 

The red in his cheeks deepened. Instead of replying with words, he took her arm and hurried her back into the changing room. “Try something else,” he managed, his voice hoarse.

Motonari was laughing. “I’ll leave you two to figure it out.”

“I like this one.” Mai’s chin stuck out stubbornly. Just the fact that Mitsuhide did not want her to wear it made her want to. 

“Little mouse -” He took a breath. “I cannot . . . I do not want . . .” Mitsuhide’s gaze was heavy with internal conflict, as if he were wrestling with his own thoughts on the matter. “I have no right to tell you what to wear,” he said after a pause. “But please. Please believe me when I say I do not want other men to look at you in - in this -” His gaze drifted down, moving slowly over her mostly exposed body. 

The slow, hungry look made Mai feel even more naked than she was. 

His hand stroked down her shoulder, sending a prickle of heat across her bare skin. Mitsuhide’s eyes finally pulled away from her body to fix on her face again. 

They were so close, she realized. The dressing room wasn’t all that large, and Mitsuhide wasn’t all that small. If she went up on her toes, she could kiss him, she thought. And more surprising to her, she wanted to. She felt her body leaning into him, obeying her desire without thinking it through.

Mitsuhide stepped closer, his body pressing closer to her. He was warm and firm and solid. His hands rested on her arms. A lock of his hair fell forward, brushing against her forehead. She could almost feel his lips, they were so close to hers. Then, as if lifting a great weight, he pulled back from her, his hands dropping to his sides. “It is too soon,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. 

Aloud, he added, “Please. Try on something else. That’s all I ask.” He stepped out of the changing room and closed the curtain firmly behind him. 

Mai froze in place, unsure how to react. The changing room felt empty with the loss of his presence, but there was a budding warmth in her chest from his raw, honest reaction. She decided she would try on a less revealing swimsuit, but there was no way she was leaving this one behind. Not when it elicited that look in his eyes. 

In the end, she selected a sky blue one-piece with side cut outs and a low back to wear for the day, with a matching silver and blue cover-up and sandals. And Motonari threw in a parasol with tiny little bellflowers on a white background. She also took the sundress, pale green with little embroidered sunflowers on the bodice, which she wore out because her work clothes didn’t feel right for the beach.

Mitsuhide didn’t ask her to model anything else, but he seemed to be back to his regular self as they left the shop. 

Motonari gave them a warm goodbye and told Mai she should stop in again. She decided she absolutely would. Her friends would love this place and Motonari. 

[rescue-ram]

🍉🍎🍐!

🍉 Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?

I don't have a strong preference here... Most of my ideas are longer/multipart ones, but it's so hard to see them all the way through kfkdkd so one-shots are more satisfying... I guess my fave would be writing like 7-15k in one chapter across 1-3 writing sessions, where it feels the most fun/rewarding

🍎 Is there anything you straight-up won’t write?

There's a couple tbh 😅 My petty answer is mpreg- it is my hardest squick. My more serious answer is I try to be extremely cautious about any description of sexual abuse/child sexual abuse, and will ask myself multiple times "Do I need to write this? Do I need to write this in this way?" and cut/edit heavily if I feel any squick around the idea or scene. On a selfish level because I reread my fics and don't want to write something I'll later regret, and also because I do think that those are especially serious topics and I don't want to write about them in a flippant or disrespectful way, and especially in writing about CSA I want it to be uncomfortable and not unintentionally eroticized...

🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc…

🤔 I've been deep in MASH land recently and like... Nothing I think about in this way? There's lots of gaps in canon that are fun to fill in, and I occasionally like to mull over the characters contradicting backstories and think about how I would resolve them ktlfkf And I suppose Sayonara was kind of a fix it fic for Trapper leaving and The Joker is Wild... But as much as I enjoy a good canon divergent AU I don't really think about them in this way... 😅

[restinslices]

Could you please do a scenario featuring the Lin Kuei Trio and Female Reader where they're both arguing with each other and they tell them that they hate her and for her to get out of their lives (Bi-Han would be more cruel saying that he can find another woman easily just to hurt them.) and they leave them alone crying when they go out on a mission. A few days later they return home and can't find Reader anywhere and discover she's left them while they were gone and after several days searching for her with no luck they realize how much they hurt her and immediately regret their actions towards her. Several months later while on a mission in Outworld they discover Reader has been living in Outworld and after completing their mission they follow her back to her home and begin apologizing asking her for forgiveness and to come back home until they hear a baby crying inside and discover Reader was pregnant when they left and are more adamant about being with Reader as well as the baby until Reader gives in and tells them that they can be part of their son's life but they won't get back together with them since they don't love them anymore breaking their hearts. They work extra hard to help out with raising their son not only to make up for lost time not being there for the pregnancy but because they want to earn their love back again even though they still feel like they don't deserve their love and forgiveness and eventually after several months they start to break through their walls and regain their love as well as forgiveness from them and they become a complete family. Perhaps do it in a paragraph format unless you feel like doing it in a different format to suit the request better to your choice.

I’m gonna be completely honest with you,,, I don’t see the point in me writing this out. You have this multipart scenario, like legit, you have everything down from start to end. Small details and all. If it was just like “their reaction to accidentally saying something mean” then yeah, there’s room to do whatever but there’s not really any room here if that makes sense.

It’s a very detailed request and you already put exactly what happens and how they feel and how the reader feels and how it all ends. There’s not really any room for me to do anything regarding this. The actions are here. The reactions are here. The feelings and emotions are here. I’d just be repeating exactly what you said 3 times. There’s not really any room for me to do anything else here.

I get if you have a specific idea but something like this doesn’t work to me. For anyone reading this I would like to leave with this little tidbit; the longer the request, the harder it is to write. The more detail in the request, the harder it is to write. The shorter the requests, the more wiggle room I have and the more likely I am to write it. You can have certain details you’d like, but having the whole thing already written out won’t work (for me at least. Idk about other blogs).

So sorry anon! Hope you don’t take it personally and that all made sense.

[burnwater13]

Grogu sitting in his Republic floating pram. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 9, The Marshal . Calendar from DataWorks.

Note: this is part of a multipart series that began of January 27, 2024. Check here for the prior chapters:

Grogu waddled over to his dad and tapped his vambrace. The Mandalorian and Jon had been in the midst of an intense discussion that Grogu hadn’t paid any attention to because Roy had just kept bringing him food to eat while the two men talked. But Grogu was actually full now and he really needed to use a privy. 

“What do want buddy?” 

Din seemed both annoyed and distracted.

“Privy.”

“Oh. Sorry. That’s right. Where can I find a privy for Grogu?” 

The Mandalorian had turned back to Jon and waited. 

“I can bring him to ones down by the farmer’s market. You can think about what we were discussing.” 

Jon offered, but Grogu could feel his dad frowning.

“Wherever he goes, I go.”

“True.” Grogu piped up. 

The only time he wasn’t with his dad was when he was with his mom or his various grandparents. Since they could all use the Force and some of them were also Mandalorians, he was always well protected. 

“That’s fine with me. You can both come with me. We could all use a walk.”

Grogu nodded at that. But he’d eaten so much he couldn’t imagine walking very far or very fast. The food had been great and he didn’t want to regret eating so much of it. 

“Maybe on the way back you could show me your N-1?” Jon commented.

“Sure. It’s a nice ship. The folks on Naboo really knew what they were doing when they built her.”

“Her? We do that too. I have a friend who has a small catamaran. He call’s her ‘Wanda’. Does your N-1 have a name?”

Grogu wondered what his dad would say. He’d never heard his dad call the ship anything but ’N-1’, but maybe it had another name he’d just never heard it.

“I call her ‘Mira’.”

Grogu began to laugh. Of course his dad called the ship Mira. When his mom was a spy that was the name she used. Mira Ost. 

“Good name. Grogu, do you need a ride? Would it be all right if I carried him. He seems kind of… uncomfortable.”

Jon’s offer was something Grogu accepted immediately, jumping into the big man’s arms while his dad pondered what to say. Normally Din Djarin didn’t let people just carry or otherwise touch Grogu, but Jon knew where the privies were and that mattered more to Grogu just then than considerations for his safety. He was very uncomfortable. 

“I guess he decided you can be trusted.” 

The Mandalorian observed. 

“I’m glad. He’s really amazing. Not just because he could eat six of Roy’s burritos. I’ve never seen anyone quite like him.”

“Most people haven’t and I’d like to keep it that way. The New Republic may be in charge now, but that hasn’t always helped keep him safe.”

“Really. What’s the problem? I thought that it was all sorted out after the second Death Star was destroyed.”

“Death Star? The people here really call it that? We called is the DS-2, Second Sun. Sure, Vader and the Emperor were gone, but you don’t have all those people collaborating in the suppression of a galaxy without holdovers. The New Republic was pretty focused on a strategy known as ‘forgive and forget’. I don’t think it worked the way they thought it would.”

Grogu had to agree with that. Forgive and forget had some major drawbacks, like all the Moffs who wanted to go on being warlords. They didn’t think they needed forgiveness and forgetting about them allowed them to try it all over again. It was a huge mistake. 

“Really, forgive and forget? That doesn’t sound like something Leia Organa would have been keen to do.”

Grogu and his dad both laughed. 

“Oh, she wasn’t keen to do that at all, but then she was from Alderaan. No way to forgive or forget. But there were plenty of people who weren’t directly impacted and they just wanted to get back to their spotchka.”

“And the Mandalorians just let that happen?”

“Of course not. But Mandalore was glassified and the population decimated. The new Mand’alor’s been doing his best, but even Seb can’t fix things that fast. Are these the privies?”

Grogu looked around and sure enough they were at a long low building with some symbology next to the entryway that suggested that humans were granted access.

“Yes. These are the restrooms or privies. Use the big one at the end of the aisle. It’s set up for people who need more space. I’ll wait for you out here.”

Grogu hopped from Jon to his dad. After all, where ever Din Djarin went, he went. Mostly. 

[mousedetective]

Out of queue: “No More Regrets” is now complete. The rest of it won’t come up on my blog for a while, but if you want to read all 25 chapters you can go here to chapter 1 and start there.

[dark-mnjiro]

if i only [could] . prologue .

Author's Note: So, if people end up liking this little bit I post - I will probably continue this "fix it" fic. If not, I'll just leave it up as an open-ended one-shot drabble. But I wanted to start a new multipart fic with my lovely Shinichiro who was just taken too soon. My love for the Sano family knows no bounds.

Warnings: sano shinichiro x afab!reader, tokyo revengers spoilers, established relationship, character death/funeral, "fix it" fic, nightmares, future telling(?), dreams vs reality, dead character lives (?), AU, eventual smut (if I continue), first-generation black dragons, besties with wakasa, jokes about virginity and shin's terrible luck with women, will add more warnings if i continue.

===

. and if only I could .

. I’d make a deal with god .

. and I’d get him to swap our places .

It was strange, sitting in this room, surrounded by his family and friends. Soft sobs filled the room, but unlike them… you were running on empty, practically running on autopilot now. You heard your name before slowly glancing up and seeing Wakasa outstretching his hand. He mumbled something to you as you took his hand and shakily rose to your feet. But you couldn’t hear him. You could hardly hear anyone anymore.

Your mind seemed far away.

He gave you a reassuring squeeze of his hand as you froze in place, finding the smiling picture at the end of the aisle staring back at you. Mocking you. Almost asking why you were being so weird, so withdrawn.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs and the room as all the eyes in the room fell on you. The room was silent minus a few people whispering in the back, questioning who you were. You felt Wakasa tug your arm, but your legs would no longer work. 

After days of feeling nothing, it was as if everything you had buried washed over you at once. Your eyes widened as you looked up at Wakasa and shook your head in fear. Your mouth opened but no words came out before tears beaded in the corner of your eyes.

“I-I-”

“Hey-”

Your chest tightened before you pulled your hand away from Wakasa. Balling your fists, you felt your mind beginning to race as memories of the past replayed over and over… Choices you made and regretted playing over and over.

“I can’t-”

“Hey it’s okay,” Wakasa whispered trying to reach out to help you stay on your feet. “We can go outside-”

“I should’ve made him come home,” you said as the tears began streaming down your face. “I should’ve insisted. I told him it was okay!”

“You know that wasn’t your fault,” he said, rushing to your side as his hands placed firmly on your shoulders. “You couldn’t have known what would happen to Shin. You couldn't have known.” Wakasa paused before glancing over his shoulder toward Shinichiro’s family and giving them a small nod. “Let’s go outside. Have a smoke. We don’t have to do this today.”

“I’m a terrible girlfriend-”

“Stop that,” Wakasa hissed before leading you outside the building and pulling out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. He handed one over to you before lighting it for you as you both took a seat on a bench by a small pond.

Inhaling deeply, you slowly pulled away the cigarette from your lips before exhaling the relaxing smoke. You mumbled an apology to Wakasa for your actions and practically freezing up at Shinichiro’s funeral. His hand came up and waved you off, indicating there was no need to apologize. Staring at the pond, you watched a family of ducks swimming around and it almost felt as if the world around you was mocking you.

How dare this beautiful day to exist on such a depressing day? It didn’t seem fair that the sun was shining or that these animals continued to live. Not while you had to continue going on without Shinichiro. Replaying that night over and over again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe had you made him come home that night, maybe - just maybe - he would be alive right now.

You recalled him insisting that he had to stay late at the shop to finish working on the bike that he planned to give Mikey for his birthday. He had assured you that he didn’t mind sleeping on the couch in the office and that he would see you in the morning. One of the last messages you had sent him was “don’t stay up all night, idiot. I love you.” with his response of “love you too”.

A sigh came from Wakasa as he gave you a quick side glance. “You know,” he said. “We were all jealous that Shin had such a great girlfriend, y’know.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he replied with a shrug. “You don’t have to believe me but it’s a pretty shitty insult to call yourself this terrible girlfriend when we all thought you were the best thing that happened to him.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better-”

“And so what if I am?” Wakasa questioned, sitting up and tilting his head before taking another drag of his cigarette. As he exhaled, the smell of the smoke fill your senses and you could only be reminded of Shin. It was the same brand he would often smoke and the smell alone was so comforting. “The dumbass was so desperate for any girl, it was pathetic.”

The corner of your lips twitched into a smile. “That’s not nice.”

“And he was an idiot.”

“ANd your best friend.”

Wakasa flashed you a half smile. “Feeling better?”

You nodded. “Yes… thank you.”

“Wanna head back in?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes. Let’s go-”

You shot up in bed, panting. Your eyes darted around the dark room as your gaze slowly began adjusting to the darkness that filled the room. Running your fingers through your hair, you tried to catch your breath before glancing at the spot next to you in bed. 

“...babe?”

Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Shinichiro raise from bed with a huge yawn before rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “..Shin?”

It was as if he had just realized just how distressed you were. “Hey,” he said, frowning. “What’s wrong? C’mere.” His arms encircled around your body before pulling you into his chest. “Bad dream?”

Nodding weakly, you closed your eyes before taking in his scent. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke… A content sigh fell from your lips before your arms snaked around his waist and gave him a light squeeze. You managed to mumble an explanation of your nightmare to him before he chuckled and planted a kiss on the top of your head. It was real. He was real. It was just a nightmare. 

“I’m alright baby,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

“Thank god…”

“Wanna lay back down?”

Nodding again, you felt his arms release you before you both laid back down on the bed. Resting your head on his chest, you brought your hand up and used your finger to draw shapes on his bare chest, trying to ease the anxiety from that nightmare. 

“Goodnight babe,” he whispered. “We need to get some sleep. We gotta open the shop early.”

You snuggled against him. “Mhm…”

“And I need time to work on Mikey’s bike. I only have a month left.”

You froze. “His what?”

“His bike. You know, the one I’ve been planning to give him for his birthday.”

Your body tensed.

“Babe?”

Was it just a nightmare?

[miss-celestial-being]

Draco Masterlist

| fluff- ☀︎ | ︎angst- ☁︎ | ︎multipart- ༅ | author's favorites- ❣︎ |

ILY

↬ Each time Draco loves Y/n more than before ☀︎︎ ❣︎

Movie Night

↬ Draco gets held up at work and almost misses movie night ☀︎︎

Friend Zone

↬ Leila gets cheated on by her boyfriend of 2 years | 1 | 2 | ☀︎︎ ☁︎︎ ༅

Potions

↬ Draco has to sit next to Y/n and some feelings develops | 1 | 2 | 3 | ON HOLD ☀︎︎ ☁︎︎ ༅

Brightest Star

↬ you tell me, I have no idea ☀︎︎

Never Forget

↬ after the war, Y/n gets interrogated by a mysterious man ☁︎︎

My Muggle

↬ Draco falls in love with a muggle ☀︎︎ ༅

Enemies | 2 |

↬ Draco and Y/n are enemies, until... ☀︎︎ ☁︎︎ ༅

When She Was Still Here

↬ Draco tells his kids about their mom ☁ ︎︎☀︎︎

Video Entries

↬ Draco uses Y/n’s video entries to try and find her ☁ ︎︎☀︎︎

Made A Cheat

↬ Pansy tries to get Draco and Y/n to break up ☁︎︎ ☀︎︎

I wish, I wish, I wish

↬ a simple goodbye letter ☁ ︎︎☀︎︎

Daisies and Study Dates

↬ Draco and Y/n study together ☀︎︎

Fault | 2 |

↬ What's the point in living if you have no one to live for? ☁︎︎

Regret

↬ Y/n cheats and feels bad ︎☁︎︎

Love Sucks | 2 |

↬ What does love feel like? ☁︎︎

Gone.

↬ just read and find out ☁︎︎

With or Without

↬ too lazy to write a summary ☁︎︎

Never Again

↬ loosely based on the song married life from up ︎☀︎ ︎☁︎︎

One Last Time

↬ mini fic ☁︎︎

Perfectly Numb

↬ two strangers in similar situations find love at first sight ☀︎︎ ☁︎︎ ❣︎

A Song Just For Them

↬ mini fic ☀︎︎