#she thought it was guilt just because she knew how it would look to other people. thats not guilt thats awareness.

[charliesloser]

HAPPY LESBIAN VISIBILITY WEEK BITCHES!! i bring you angst.

——

Redemption

Chaggie x Emilute

——

“But she was right, Sera,” Emily sang, hopodiah up the paper, “she showed us a soul can improve, he saw the light Sera,” she flew up, “checked all the boxes the you said would..” Emily continued and Lute felt guilt coming up in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s not fair, Sera,” Charlie jumped in, a mix of determination and anger spread on her face.

“Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head,” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“No!” Charlie pushed her hand off and walked forward, “don’t you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn’t mean they can’t resolve to change their ways! Turn their backs, escape infernal blaze!”

“I really wish it could be so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”

Lute knows she’s gonna retreat this, but she chimes in as well, “what are we even talking about, some crack whore who fucked up already?!” Lute avoided Emily’s eyes, “he blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth this discussion is sensless and petty!”

Adams jumps up and the two start singing, “there’s no question to be posed, he’s unholy case closed, did you forget that hell is forever?!”

Adam smirks, “a man only lives once, we’ll see you in one month!” He steps closer to Charlie, “gotta say I can’t wait to..”

“Adam..” Lute mumbles under her breath.

“Come down an exterminate you!”

“Wait!” Emily flies down.

“Shit..” Lute looks away.

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily was furious.

“You didn’t know?” Charlie tilts her head.

Lute takes a deep breath, “guess the cats out of the bag,” she puts on a fake smile.

“What’s the big deal?” Adam smirks.

“Sera,” Emily looks at Sera with pleading eyes, “tell me that you didn’t know.”

Sera flew down there, “I thought since I’m older, it’s my load to shoulder!

“No..”

“You have to listen, it was such a hard decision!” Sera reached her hands out but Emily pulled away, “I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to do what was required!”

Emily clenches her fists and starts flying, “to think that I admired you, well I don’t need your condescension, I’m not a child to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you’re proveying?” Emily flies down to Charlie.

Charlie nods, “that’s what the fuck I’ve been saying!”

They grabbed each other hands, “if hell is forever then heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey if you don’t do as they say, when you make the retched suffer just to kill them again!”

“I was told not trust in angels,” Charlie gave Vaggie a soft look and she gave the princess a look of guilt.

“By her?” Adam smirks.

Lute knew she was in deep shit so she just doesn’t care anymore, “ha! She should go,” she smirks and places an arm on Vaggie.

Vaggie pushes her off and walked closer to her girlfriend, “we should go-”

“No!” Charlie grabbed her hands, “don’t you see we’ve come so close? Look at them fighting, they’re at each others throats!”

“Don’t you act all high and mighty,” Lute and Adam circled Vaggie, “did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?” Adam smirked.

“Adam, don’t, please..”

“What’s the fuss?” Adam walked closer to her, “why hide the fact that you’re an angel just like us?” Lute pulled on Vaggie and made her face Charlie with a smirk.

Charlie had a look of anger, confusion, and terror in her eyes as she fell to her knees. Her hands were in her face as she starts crying and Vaggie runs to her, wrapping her arms around her.

——

The portal closes as soon as Charlie and Vaggie are back in hell. Vaggies heart is beating and Charlie’s eyes are red and puffy from crying. A lot was revealed today, and neither of them know how to feel.

“Charlie-” before Vaggie can even get a chance to speak, Charlie walks out of their room. She groans and plops down on the bed, her face in the pillows.

There was a knock on the door, “go away!” Vaggies voice was muffled because of the pillows.

Despite what she had said, Angel barged in. “Hey, so Charlie just ran out of the hotel with her horns and tail out. Mind telling me what happened?” Charlie usually only has her demon form out when she’s really stressed or emotional.

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk.” Vaggie mumbles into the pillows.

“Talkin’ about it will make ya feel better, toots,” Angel sits on the bed.

Vaggie sighs and rolls on her back, looking up at Angel. She knew he wasn’t gonna give up. “So, let’s just say a lot happened at the meeting,” she sighs and he gave her a look that tells her to continue, “well, apparently no one but the head seraphim and the exorcists knew about the exterminations.”

“Oh?” Angel crosses his arms.

“And we used you as an example, but they still believe that no soul can be redeemed,” Vaggie rolls her eyes. She left out the one part that Angel deserves to know, and Angel picked up on that.

“Is that all?” He tilts his head.

Vaggie takes a deep breath and stands up from the bed, looking out if the window. “No, there’s..” she turns to look at him, “there’s something else that I need to say,” she sighs and Angel nods, “it was revealed that..I used to be an exorcist angel.”

——

Emily’s in her room, her head pounding and her heart racing. There was so much that was impacted in that meeting and she doesn’t know how to handle it all.

There was a knock, “come in,” her voice was soft and the door opened and shut. Her back was facing the door and she was sitting on her bed so she couldn’t see who walked in, but she didn’t need to see. She just knew who it was because it’s the same person who comes to see her after every meeting.

Lute takes a deep breath, “Em, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Emily stands up and turns to face Lute.

“Please-”

“No! You’ve kept something from me you knew that I deserved to know! These exterminations have been happening for god knows how long, and you didn’t tell me!” Emily snaps, “those souls, human souls..they don’t deserve that, demon or not!”

“If you understood-”

“What I don’t understand is-” Emily sighs, “what I don’t understand is how you could keep something like this from someone you fell in love with.”

“Emily, please-” Emily ignores Lute and flies out her window.

Lute clenches her fists and throws her helmet on the ground.

——

Charlie returns to the hotel. Her hair was a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes. Vaggie looks over, she was sitting on the couch with Angel.

Charlie yawns as she drags her feet to the bar, ignoring Vaggie and Angel. She isn’t one to drink, but she really needs this.

Husk raises an eyebrow as he makes her a drink, something light since she isn’t really used to it, and hands it to her, “you look like shit.”

Charlie groans, “you have no idea,” she takes a sip of her drink and makes a weird face, shaking her head.

“I heard..what happened,” Husk sighs, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“Depends..is she here?” Charlie asked.

Husk shakes his head, “Angel took her out..she looked like she needed a break.”

Charlie scoffs, “she needs a break? As if she didn’t lie to me for years? We share everything together, she should’ve known that I would’ve understood if she told me that she was an exorcist angel.”

Husk opens his mouth, but closes it, trying to figure out what to say. He opens it again, “well, did you try asking her why she didn’t tell you?”

Charlie looks down and shakes her head, “I’m..afraid of her answer.”

Husk sighs, pouring himself a drink, “you know,” he takes a big drink, “it’s okay to be scared, that’s apart of life..but so is talking. Relationships aren’t always so perfect. Fights and mistakes are what makes them healthy and special. I’m not saying that you need to fight 24/7, I’m saying that..you guys will overcome this situation. All you need to do is talk it out.”

Charlie sighs. She knew that Husk was right and she nods, “when did you get so good at this relationship stuff?” She jokes with a smile.

Husk smiles back as he looks at Angel, who’s talking to Vaggie, “since I got into one myself,” he looks back at Charlie, “now, go talk to her. Make things right.”

Charlie nods, taking a deep breath before standing up. She slowly makes her way to the couch and Vaggie looked up from her conversation with Angel, making eye contact with Charlie. Charlie holds her hand out with pleading eyes and Vaggie doesn’t hesitate to take it.

——

Lute finds Emily on the top of a mountain, but not just any mountain. It was the mountain Emily took them in their first date, before they made it official. Lute remembers it like it was yesterday.

Emily had taken them to the tallest mountain in heaven to have a picnic. She decorated it so the trees lit up and the pink roses were brighter than before. Back then was so easy, Lute thought. Never in a million years would she had thought that Emily found out about the exterminations.

Without saying anything, Lute turns to fly away, thinking about how stupid this is, but she stops herself when she hears a voice, “you know..” Lute gulps and turns to look back at Emily, “maybe I overreacted.”

Lute tilts her head as she sits down next to Emily, their legs hanging off the edge of the cliff. “What do you mean?”

Emily sighs as she stares at the city of heaven, “maybe I overreacted..” she repeats herself, “after finding out about the exterminations,” she pauses, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped, it’s just..we’ve been dating for a few months and you’ve..kept something from me that goes against what I’m trying to stop.”

Lutes breath is shaky as she opens her mouth, but then closes it. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t find the right words.

The two were quiet for like 15 minutes, neither knowing what to say. Until Emily opened her mouth, “can we just..forget about everything?” She takes a glance at Lute, “maybe I overreacted, I just-”

Lute takes Emily’s hand into her own, “it’s okay, you didn’t overreact. I should’ve told you about the exterminations to begin with, I acted stupid,” she sighs, “I’m sorry, I really am.”

——

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Vaggie speaks, her voice is quiet and soft. She and Charlie were sitting on their bed, “I’d understand if you didn’t forgive me, or if you needed time..I should’ve told you, I was just scared, and..”

“Vaggie-” Charlie tries to cut in.

“When you found me that day, you were so nice to me..”

“Vaggie-” Charlie tried again.

“I just..I don’t understand..how you could be so nice to someone you knew nothing about. I didn’t tell you because I was scared..scared of losing the best thing that happened to me..and I’d understand if you wanted t-”

“Vaggie!” Finally, Vaggies eyes meet Charlie’s. She was expecting a look of anger and disappointment, but she was brought a look of love. Charlie cups Vaggies face, “it’s okay,” she whispers, “I promise..I overreacted and I should’ve let you explain. I was hurt, but I’m not now. I just..wish you would’ve told me sooner, and I would’ve preferred finding out from you and not some prick,” the princess smiles when she hears Vaggie let out a chuckle. She presses a kiss onto her forehead before pulling her in for a hug, “I love you.”

Vaggie smiles for the first time in a few days, “more than anything.”

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p2]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1

synopsis: jessie’s point of view

warnings: angsty as fuck lol, mentions of depression & it’s symptoms

jessie had never been more furious and sad at the same time. watching you walk out of her place with a bag containing your things slung over your shoulder after she had pleaded with you to let her help, was one of the most heartbreaking things she’s ever had to go through.

despite your reluctance to tell her, she knew what you were going through. she guessed that you weren’t maybe telling her the whole truth about how you were really feeling and she made it her mission to help in any way you would let her. she spoke with chelsea’s psychologist about how to help you, you read self-help books and read articles upon articles but you were slipping faster than she could reach for you.

“maybe it’s for the best” niamh says gently, rubbing her hand up and down jessie’s back soothingly.

the canadian stands abruptly “no! god no, niamh, don’t you get it? she’s sick — really fucking sick — and she won’t let me help!” jessie confides as tears begin to flood her waterline “i just want to help. all i’ve ever wanted was to help”

niamh’s face cracks with guilt and sorrow. she’d watched the guilt eat her friend alive for too long now, never quite understanding why she stayed with you for so long. even when questioned, jessie kept her cards close to her chest. her teammates saw her go in and out of the psychologist’s office, look up easy to make but nutritious recipes, skim through articles about how to love someone with depression, but never had she outright said that something was wrong.

“jess you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped” niamh points out delicately “and you can’t make her open up to you if she doesn’t want to”

jessie sighs and sits back down on the couch with head head placed firmly in her hands “i don’t understand what i’ve done wrong. i don’t understand why she won’t just talk to me”

niamh grabs jessie and guides her to her chest as she cries, her tears soaking the front of the lioness’s jumper. the canadian’s hands clutch at the soft fabric and she burrows her face into niamh’s grounding embrace “i’m so worried about her” she sobs harder “she– she lives alone and there’s no one to look out for her, or to make sure she’s taking care of herself”

“jessie it’s not your responsibility to baby her. she’s an adult” niamh says “why didn’t you tell us?”

“because you were all telling me to leave her!” jessie loudly exclaims, pulling herself up “every single one of you told me that it wasn’t worth it, that i deserve better”

the midfielder’s face is red and blotchy, tears cascading down her freckled cheeks as she further works herself up. “there is nothing i wouldn’t do for her, niamh, i’ve never loved someone the way i love her”

— —

when jessie tries to call you to tell you she’s coming to collect her things, it goes straight to voicemail. she gets left on read when she texts you but that’s better than nothing so she takes it as the small win it is and gets dressed in a hoodie of hers you like and a pair of jeans she plucks off the top of her clean laundry. nerves settle in the bottom of her stomach on the drive over and only get worse when she takes the elevator to your floor. there’s a brown box outside your door with her name written on it in bold, black permanent marker and she frowns.

the thought of not actually seeing you after she’s been making herself sick with worry causes her to pause. on one hand, you aren’t responding so she doesn’t even know if you’re alright, but on the other there’s a box at her feet with her stuff in it, so at the very least jessie knows you’re conscious. she nervously bites the skin around the thumbnail before knocking on your door three times and waiting, bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously before stopping in fear that you’re looking at her through the peephole.

to her disappointment, you don’t come to the door. she picks up her belongings carefully and hangs her head low, trying not to be too disappointed. she runs into one of your neighbours that she’s met a few times when she’s had to leave early for training and sends her a kind smile.

the older woman notices the box in jessie’s hands and frowns “i was wonderin’ why i haven’t been seein’ you around lately” she says in her thick northern accent.

jessie hums “yeah it’s uhh… it’s a bit different” she cringes at herself, stepping aside so the older woman — shelley, she remembers — can get onto the elevator before her. shelley tuts and pushes her glasses up her nose as they fall.

“i hope it all works out for ya, she’s a sweet girl. a bit lost, maybe, but sweet”

all jessie can do is nod as the elevator stops two floors below your own “i’m about to beat caroline’s ass in cards” shelley grins cheekily as she steps out “bye jessie”

the canadian lifts her knee to steady the box whilst she takes one hand out from underneath it to offer a polite wave “bye shelley” she says as she watches the doors close on her again.

the drive back to her apartment feels slower then it actually it. worry clouds jessie’s mind like a plague, the thought of you wasting away, alone and in your apartment making her sick.

through your relationship she really tried to show you how much she adored you. whether it was bringing you lunch when you were at work, buying a bouquet of ‘just because’ flowers or simply just telling you how much she loved you.

it was one of her favourite things, telling you she loved you. she had uncharacteristically said it first one day when you dropped off her boots to her at training when she had forgotten them, giving you a kiss quickly before running off to avoid being late. that night the two of you were sitting on her couch eating dinner and watching trashy reality tv when you quietly asked her about it.

“penny for your thoughts?” jessie asks you as she watches you stare off into space.

you quickly snap out of your daze and shake your head “it’s nothing”

she knocks your shoulders together “c’mon, what’s up?”

nervously, you move the food on your pate around with your fork aimlessly. you can’t look jessie in the eye and out of worry, she places her dinner on the coffee table and sits up straighter “are you okay?”

you suck in a deep breath “when you, uhm… when you told me you loved me today, did you mean that?”

jessie’s brain short circuits and she thinks back to when she saw you this morning. her confession makes the blood rush to her cheeks and she nervously plays with the hem of her old ucla shirt.

she sees the way you’re still avoiding her gaze and places her hand over yours, stopping you from playing with your meal. you look at her with tight lips and wide eyes as you await her answer, your leg bouncing like you’re ready to bolt.

“of course i meant it” she assures softly, placing her hand on your cheek “it slipped out, yeah, but i meant it all the same”

you nod and slightly turn away from her, placing your own dinner on the coffee table next to hers. your lack of reaction begins to make jessie nervous. was it too soon? did you feel the same? has she just made it awkward?

“you don’t have to say it back!” the midfielder rushes “if you don’t feel the same you absolutely do not have to say it back. i would never expect you to if—”

“i love you” you mumble, cutting off her rambling.

jessie’s heart beats out of her chest and her head spins so much she’s dizzy. you were relatively affectionate and you had no problem dishing out compliments and praise, but there were times when you couldn’t really receive it.

the canadian softly smiles and immediately wraps her arms around you, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and she pulls you into her. you giggle as she falls back into the couch, the wide smile on your face everlasting.

“i love you” jessie mumbles back to you “so much”

——

jessie sighs at hearing the knocking from her front door. not only was she not in the mood to see anyone, she was kind of hoping to spend the rest of her day off cuddled up on her couch with the book she’s been meaning to finish. she stays where she is for a moment to see if whoever it is will go away, only to get four more louder knocks in return.

she throws the blanket off herself and shivers as her bare feet hit the cold floor. she all but throws open the door with a frown on her face, quickly being surprised by a woman she doesn’t recognise standing in front of her. she adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder and shifts her weight between her feet slightly.

“jessie fleming?” she asks

the canadian nods “yeah. can i help you?”

the brunette woman sighs with relief “i’m casey taylor, i work with y/n”

dread crashes over jessie and her hand tightens on the doorknob. “do you want to come in?” she asks stepping aside.

casey puts her hand up in protest “no i was just wondering if you’ve seen her lately? i know you two are—”

“we broke up” she interjects quickly “but she wasn’t too good the last time i saw her”

casey purses her lips and nods her head “right. okay. sorry for just turning up like this” she pauses in contemplation. “it’s just that i didn’t have your number and i only have your address because i had to pick y/n up from here once” she rushes, clearly recognising how weird the situation is.

jessie nods as she recalls the memory of the two of you standing on the street, her dressed in ratty old pyjamas and you dressed in your work slacks and knitted sweater. you had been running around jessie’s apartment half dressed whilst simultaneously brushing your teeth and doing your hair absolutely stressed out of your mind. jessie simply watched you run around as she packed you lunch and ironed your shirt, the feeling of domestic bliss lasting well until after you had kissed her quickly and rushed out her front door.

casey clicks her tongue “that’s all good though! i’ll just get going” the brunette turns to walk away, her kitten heels clicking on the pavement underneath her.

“casey!” jessie calls once she gets her wits about her, shaking the memory and following the woman down to her car “you didn’t come all the way here to just ask if i’ve seen her. what’s going on?”

“…we’re just worried. she’s out of sick leave and my boss wants to call the police to do a welfare check but i told her that i’d come to you first” she hesitates, fidgeting with her key chain in her hand “it’s not been this bad before” casey mumbles.

the midfielder sucks in a breath as her stomach drops. the out of character behaviour from you stirs something deep in her and she furrows her brows “i’ll go see her” she says before thinking “just let me… just let me see if i can talk to her, okay?”

casey’s reluctance is written all over her face but she must see something in jessie’s eyes that has her softening. she continues to fiddle with her keys before looking at her watch and then back to jess “okay” she says before fishing a pen and piece of paper out of her purse “please call me and let me know how she is, or get her to call me” she pleads whilst scribbling down her number.

jessie nods “of course i will”

[slocumjoe]

hey uhhh i went thru ur oc post history and u said gus set himself on fire?? pls context

I love this character because whenever someone asks about him I always have to take a deep breath and get comfortable and suck a breath in through my teeth. I treat him so poorly

More Gus lore, because that specific event is actually tied to the very first event that would fuck him up forever, so I can't really talk about it without going in depth.

This is explaining the core tenent of Augustijn's story, which is guilt and its dangers. Basically, where that constant guilt came from, and how it...turned out for him...

It turns out okay. Just...takes 200+ years, an apocalypse, a divorce, and his son dying! 🥳Yay🥳

Tw; Religious trauma, child abuse, suicide, drug use, cannibalism, mental illnesses, and yet another suicide attempt.

So, some background, Gus's mom, Emma, was a fanatic catholic and generally Bat Shit about religion. As you might imagine, this is the Direct Source of both Gus' questionable worldviews, traumas, and his biological inclination to uuuhhh bad Head Times.

Emma was raised mildly religious, but she...took to it too hard? Her family was not the cause of her obsession, Gus's grandparents and uncles/aunts over there actually cut her off at one point, because she was starting to worry them but reaching out led to her lashing out. So, they just...backed off. Emma herself was a simple, homebody woman, who wanted to be at home raising her kids, and tending her garden. She would have been this way even without the religious thing.

But Emma and her side of the family were prone to addiction, see? And religion became her point of fixation and obsession. This could have still been okay, if not for the church she went into. A catholic church in the Hague that was known by all for being kind of fucking out there, even by other hardcore Catholics. This was one she went into, and even her grandchild 240+ years later would feel the ripple of this decision.

Emma goes into church and gets gnarly ideas about how life works. Its a woman's duty to have kids and raise them, to be good to her husband and her house, to listen and obey her men. Sin is inevitable and everyone does it, only those that admit and accept punishment can get another chance at Paradise. God knows every action you take and he does not care for the context, he only cares about the action. There is no "well, but" under the Lord.

Emma has mental illness, some kind of depression and anxiety, so this Big Brother Watching And Judging fucked her up. Especially since her church, in particular, was physically abusive if you did not confess to anything during confession. They thought if you had nothing to confess, you were lying.

At this point, she's met and engaged to Theodore Reinier, a rich heir to a European manufacturing company. He's pretty, a gentleman, and best of all, rich, so she can have as big and luxurious a garden as she wants. She likes him. She does not love him. She's in her twenties and unmarried with no kids, and her poor family needs to be taken care of. So she marries him. Theodore is smart enough to see this for what it is, and kind enough to allow it. He lets his wife do her own thing and treats her as a friend, rather than a lover. She hates this, she wants to be a wife (she doesnt). She wants kids, he gives her one. Augustijn. This birth goes rough, and she's told no more children.

Theodore makes one rule; August goes to a different church, or he does not go at all. Theo really didn't like Emma's church and he certainly wasn't exposing his kid to that shit.

Emma pretends to agree and takes Gus to That Church. Theo doesn't attend, so he doesn't know this is happening until much later. Gus gets all the same nasty shit Emma does. Theo learns of this when he sees Gus covered in bruises from confession beatings. This puts a huge rift between him and Emma, and he pulls all the strings he can to have her church shut down.

Emma grows to resent and hate Theo and Augustijn for not being the perfect husband and child she deserves as a good, God fearing house wife. Augustijn is left to his nannies, Emma hides away in her private garden, fuming. Theodore tries to bond with his son, but Emma's poisoned that well.

Emma tells Augustijn about demons, to fear them. She specifically tells him about church grims, demons that hunt around churches in the form of a dog to drag sinners to hell. She says this as she's admiring her new obsidian dog statues for her garden.

Eventually, Emma goes yellow wallpaper and loses her mind, and is sent to therapy and put on medications. Augustijn loathes his father for his mother's state. Theodore just wants his friend and son okay. But Emma, as she's out in town, coming back from therapy, she stops at a friend's house while the friend isn't there, and hooks up with the woman's husband. Friend's husband was stern, strict with his wife, God fearing, and generally an obnoxious 50s ideal shithead husband. Everything Emma wanted. This wasn't out of nowhere, it was brewing in the background. She knew both of them from her old church.

Emma goes home, and finally having a reason for the guilt that's always plagued her, elects to acknowledge her sin. She drowns herself in the pond of her garden, stared down by three dark, ruby-eyed dogs, overseeing her passage into the afterlife. Her young son comes into the garden to meet his mother, after she's been gone all day, only to find her in a red pool. He looks up into the eyes of the dogs. He remembers nothing of this incident, blocking it out and having been too young to understand.

Years pass, and Augustijn turns to drugs as well, though his come from the darkest parts of the Hague, rather than a doctor. He turns to sex, to crime, to anything he thinks will either corrupt him so much he doesn't care, or will finally make his guilt feel justified. He wears his mother's cross necklace through it all, and sees her beloved dog with every sin.

Augustijn goes to America for college, to Harvard, studying to become a pastor himself. (This is maybe the most terrifying part of him, the fact that he almost got it). But he doesn't feel satisfied with it, has a moment of clarity and realizes he isn't fit to preach anything. The grim certainly doesn't think so. He instead follows his only friend, Isadora, into the military. The US government allowing their soldiers to do chems means his failed drug tests don't matter.

Augustijn becomes a sniper. He has always hurt people, excelled in it, but taking life frightens him, because he knows he has no right to decide who lives or dies, not like this. But he's in China, and he's told to kill. He does, and he's very good at it. His teammates marvel at just how scrappy and determined he is, like a weed, a mold.

The Biandukou Pass Incident occurs. He eats his entire team, trapped in a Chinese mountain range during a blizzard.

Delirious from almost two months of surviving on nothing but psycho and human flesh, Augustijn is let loose back into Boston, honorably discharged. His lingering hallucinations from his Daytripper addiction, mixed with psycho withdrawal, trauma, guilt, shame, the fear of God—everything culminates. He looks up and sees the figure that has haunted him since that one, awful day; the church grim, staring expectantly.

His mother drowned herself, so he thought it fitting if he set himself ablaze.

[natti-ice]

His Onlyfans Girl- Eddie Munson.

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Eddie Munson x onlyfansgirl!fem!reader

Summary: your best friend’s father becomes one of your subscribers on onlyfans, when you confront him about it things get a little heated. (3.7k words)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, modern AU! age gap (Eddie is late 40’s, reader is in her 20’s), masturbation, pornography, confrontation, slut shaming, arguing, oral (f receiving), p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, creampie.

Author’s note: this is a continuation of this post!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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When he heard about this "onlyfans" thing he rolled his eyes and brushed it off thinking it was just another porn site. He normally sticks to what he likes and what he knows is reliable, but he kept seeing things online about onlyfans and wanted to see what all the hype was about.

He scrolled down the main page and saw all the random women posing in scandal clad clothes, pretty faces that he'd forget in five seconds once he scrolled past. All of the accounts were locked because he had to subscribe to them and he didn't see a reason to pay for porn when he could get it for free. He scrolled and scrolled until something jumped out at him, your page. He couldn't believe it, you and his daughter had been friends for a long time and he had no idea you were doing these things on the internet.

He immediately kept scrolling and tried to pretend he didn't see that...but part of him was curious. He sighed and scrolled back up and clicked on your account. He knew it was wrong in every sense of the word but fuck, he couldn't look away. He couldn't see anything at all because he wasn't subscribed to your page, he had a strong feeling in his body and he knew exactly what it was. Desire.

His mind raced with a million reasons why he shouldn't do it but his urges were just too strong, he caved and put in his credit card information and subscribed to your onlyfans. His eyes lit up when he saw all of your photos and videos, he knew he would regret this in the morning but he didn't give a fuck. He needed to get off, get off looking at your body.

He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest as he saw you laid out before him on his screen, he always thought you were attractive but this was a whole other level. He could hardly blink because he was afraid he would miss a detail of your body, you were perfect to him, your body was like it had been crafted by god himself just for Eddie to admire. His hand found its way into his boxers as he memorized every line of your figure, the curve of your breasts, the shape of your hips and how they lead perfectly to your pussy.

He started to stroke himself faster as he clicked one of your solo masturbation videos, he breathing became more labored the faster he pumped his cock, he couldn't tear his eyes off of dildo that stretched you out. He wished that was him, that he was your toy, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to bring you pleasure. "Fuck" he whispers under his breath as he feels his orgasm nearing rapidly, he works himself faster until he finally released all over his hand. He falls back into his pillow, he pants hard as he desperately tries to fill his lungs with air, when he comes to his senses he realizes what he had done.

He quickly clears away the website, he deletes his search history praying that no one will ever find out about his taboo acts tonight...especially not his daughter. Guilt and slight paranoia sets in as he thinks about the consequences he would face if she found out, he knew this would hurt her and that was the last thing he would ever want to do, he cursed himself for being so weak and giving into his desires. He took a deep breath and tried to erase you from his mind as he wiped himself clean with a tissue and laid his head down to rest, he closes his eyes and very slowly drifts off to sleep. His dreams were plagued with the images of your body, making for a very restless night.

-

The next morning you woke up to the sun beaming through the curtains filling the room up with a warm light, it was just like every other morning, you allowed your eyes to focus and adjust to the brightness before reaching over and grabbing your phone off the nightstand. You unlock your phone and do your daily check of social media, you scroll through different timelines on various apps to catch up on any news you missed while you slept. When you've had your fair share of meme consumption you take a trip over to your onlyfans account, when you started it a few months ago it was just as a little way to make some extra cash apart from your regular 9-5, but you soon started to gain a following and it became your biggest source of income. You didn't find anything wrong with what you were doing, everyone needs to get by somehow plus you had a lot of fun making your videos, not to mention the positive attention really boosted your confidence.

You scroll through your new notifications, you read all of the comments and saw who liked your posts, you checked out the accounts that had just subscribed to your page most of which go by pseudonyms to remain anonymous. Everything seemed normal until you saw it... "Ed Munson" had subscribed to your onlyfans. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you immediately sat up in bed, you couldn't believe what you were seeing, was this really him? You frantically clicked on the account to find anything to prove it wasn't him, but you were met with a blank page, no profile picture, no bio, absolutely nothing.

Your hands started to shake with nerves as thousands of questions run through your head, maybe it was someone else? If it is him, why did he subscribe to your account? Oh god, what if she finds out? How many Ed Munsons could there be You couldn't believe this for a second, you had known Ed since you were eighteen that's when you first became friends with his daughter, you and her met in a college math class and instantly clicked. You would go over to their place to hang out and he was always kind to you whenever you spoke, but he always kept things brief because he didn't want either of you to feel like he was barging in on your fun. Never once did he ever show that he was interested in you sexually or try to make any advances on you, he was a respectable man and a man that you could trust, but this, this threw you for a loop.

You got out of bed and tried to forget about what you saw, it really couldn't have been him... at least that's what you tried to convince yourself of. You went through your normal morning routine because you had to be at work in an hour but all you could think about was this situation, you were very open with her about your onlyfans and its content but this would crush her. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't let her know about her father paying to see your explicit content, you felt so bad just thinking about how this could affect your friendship, and losing her was something you couldn't afford.

Once you finished getting dressed you grabbed all of your stuff and headed out the door, you got into your car and started it, as you waited for it to warm up you tried to think of a way to make this situation better. You knew it was probably best to leave it alone and pretend it didn't happen but something in you was dying to know just why he decided to subscribe to your account when there are thousands to choose from. Despite your better judgment, you couldn't handle the not knowing part and decided to go straight to the source, you pulled out of your driveway and set off to the Munson residence. Your heart raced as you got closer to the house, there was still a possibility that it wasn't even him and if it wasn't then this already awkward situation would become even worse.

Your hands start to sweat as you grip the steering wheel tightly, you're so anxious about what will come of this, whatever it is can't be good. You pull into the Munson's driveway and shut off the engine, you stare at the front door through the windshield for what feels like an eternity before unbuckling your seat belt and stepping out of your car. You take a deep breath and rehearse what you're going to say to him in your head as you walk up the pavement that leads to the door, you raise a shake hand to the polished wood and knock three times.

-

Eddie was in the kitchen sipping his morning coffee when he heard the knock, he wondered who could be popping in so early, he let out a sigh as he sets him mug down and heads to the front door. You hear the click of the lock being turned before it was opened revealing the man you were looking for. When he saw you his heart immediately fell to his stomach and images of the night before rushed to the front of his mind, he thought he was dreaming because you were the last person he expected to see this morning.

He quickly composes himself and speaks as nonchalantly as possible "Oh uh hey, Y/N, what are you doing here? She left for class an hour ago-"

You take in his appearance, he definitely had just rolled out of bed because he was still in his pajamas and his hair was a bit messy. His smile lines were deep, showing his older age and years of laughter and joy he must've experienced, you could tell he also hadn't shaved in a few days by the salt and pepper stubble on his face. He wasn't an ugly man by any means, in fact, you'd known him to have a few girlfriends over the couple of years you'd known him. His daughter told you he never wanted to get married because being held down to one person just wasn't his style, you never said anything about it but often wondered if he was very lonely.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Munson, I'm not here for her," you start and immediately feel your mouth become dry with nerves as you realize what you're about to accuse him of. "I need to talk to you."

Shit, she knows he thought to himself, he knew he would get caught at some point but not this soon, he nods slightly and steps to the side allowing you access to his home "Please, come in." The tension in the air was so thick you could almost grab it with your hands, you walk into the door and step into the medium-sized living room that was furnished with a couch, recliner, and a flatscreen mounted to the wall. You walked over and took a seat on the suede sofa and he follows behind you taking a seat next to you but keeping a respectable distance. You could hear your heart beating as you fidget with your fingers working up the courage to speak up "So, Mr. Munson-"

"Please, call me Eddie" he cuts you off

You look up at him, his big brown eyes staring back into yours, "Eddie... do you know what I do for work?" You ask him while trying to find any sign of discomfort in his expression

fuck. "You work in retail don't you?" He replies referring to your normal day job

You sigh softly, he's gonna make you say it, "Well, yes I do but-" you pause and look down at your hands, you couldn't look at him when you said this "But... I also do onlyfans."

"Oh" he blurts out, he didn't expect you to be so straightforward about it "I- I've heard about that before... I didn't know you did that sorta thing." He lied through his teeth, his palms started to sweat and he awkwardly wiped them on his pajama pants.

You look up at him and see the blush in his cheeks had become more prominent, you tried so hard to not show your emotions on your face as he lied straight to your face but you couldn't help but grimace "Right." You say flatly "Well this is awkward but... I know you subscribed to my page" You said it. You actually said it. The words hung in the air for a moment before he spoke

"What? I wouldn't do-" he starts to protest but you cut him off

"Please, don't lie to me. It'll just make things worse"

You can see the gears turning in his head as he debates on coming clean, he knows it's the right thing to do but fuck, it was so difficult.

He sighs, he had been caught. "Okay, yes I did subscribe but I- I can explain" he knew he couldn't but he was gonna try his best. "You see, I went on the website and I was looking at all the different models and uh, I subscribed to a page and didn't realize it was you till afterwards" he didn't sound too convinced himself and by the look on your face he knew you weren't buying it. He swallows the spit that was starting to fill his mouth "I'm sorry... I hope you can forgive me"

"Look I don't want to pry into your personal life or anything but I really can't have you looking at my pictures...what if she finds out?"

Something about the mention of his daughter puts him in defense mode, he straightens his posture slightly and speaks in a lower deep voice "What I do in my private time has nothing to do with my daughter. It's none of her business."

You're taken aback by his shortness with you, you've never seen this side of him before "Are you serious? If she finds out about this it would crush her, I'm not gonna have you ruin my friendship just because you're a pervert." You realize what you just said but it was too late, you didn't mean it, well you didn't mean to say it out loud. There were just so many emotions running through you, you couldn't stop yourself.

He scoffs "Excuse me? Young lady I'm no pervert," he crosses his arms in front of his broad chest "I'm not the one selling naked pictures online."

Your mouth drops open slightly, you couldn't believe what he just said to you, but you weren't going to hold back now. "Oh, I bet you didn't have a problem with it when you were getting off to me last night" Your tone was full of sass and was also slightly raised, he was starting to piss you off with his lack of concern so you decided to test him "what if I told her, huh? What if I spilled your dirty little secret?"

His heart sunk, and his anger level began rising at your proposal, he wouldn't let you do that to him...his daughter means everything to him and he wasn't going to let one mistake ruin their relationship. "Don't fucking threaten me, I told you she doesn't need to know anything. I don't need a little slut like you trying to ruin my life, now if you will, get out of my house." He stands up abruptly and grabs you by the arm pulling you up and dragging you towards the door. You try to pull your arm away from his grasp but he doesn't let you go, you plant your feet as best as you can on the linoleum making it harder for him to pull you.

"I'm not going anywhere, we're not done talking about this" you protest

"Well I am." He says with finality "Matter fact, I don't want you to hang around my daughter anymore, clearly, you aren't the sweet innocent girl I thought you were."

This angered you, he had no right to dictate who you could be friends with, his daughter is an adult and he's acting like you're going to corrupt his precious Angel. Before you could think you brought your hand up to slap him but he caught you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, he looked down at you, rage filling his eyes as he whispered harshly "Don't you dare." Your knees almost gave out on you by the sheer force of his movement, you were so close to his face you could smell the coffee that lingered on his breath. This awoke something in you, something that you knew would bring you nothing but trouble, but oh, would it be worth it. Your eyes flicker down to his lips then back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, Eddie stands still and doesn't move a muscle as he watches you lean in. You gently brush your lips against his, giving him an out in case he didn't want this but he doesn't put up any resistance, you connect your lips together in what starts as a soft kiss but quickly escalates.

His hands grip your waist tightly as he slides his tongue into your mouth, he slowly guides you back to the couch and lays you down before climbing on top of you. You knew this was wrong, he's your best friend's father for Christ's sake, but you knew you couldn't stop this from happening...you needed it to happen. He slips off your shoes leaving you in your socks, you moan softly into the kiss as you feel his hands unbuttoning your pants, the thought of him seeing you naked made you wet, he pulls down your pants and your panties at the same time exposing your lower half. He breaks away from the kiss and sits up a little, he grabs your legs and spreads them apart. "Fuck," he mutters as he takes in the sight of your glistening pussy "It's even better than the photos."

He dips his head between your thighs and begins to feast on your sensitive flesh, you let out a moan as his tongue flicks your clit softly, the prickling of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver down your spine as the pleasure builds within you. "Oh god," you say breathlessly as you feel your orgasm coming, his hands tighten their grip on your thighs and he looks deep into your eyes as he continues his relentless assault on your folds. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you gently rub yourself against his tongue as you go over the edge, your body trembles beneath his touch, and your pitiful whimpers fill the living room as you ride out your high. When he feels you've had enough he comes up for air, he takes a few breaths before attaching his lips to yours once again.

Your taste on his lips is intoxicating, the severity of this entire situation has heightened all of your senses making all of this even more pleasurable for you, you would regret this for the rest of your life but who cares right now? You're about to get fucked. Eddie pulled down his pajama pants revealing his hard, throbbing cock, he strokes it a few times before whispering huskily against your mouth "Get on all fours." You nod and flip over, you rest your forearms on the arm of the couch and arch your back to give him better access, he grabs hold of your hip with one hand and uses the other to guide his dick to your entrance.

He slowly slips himself into your tight hole, you let out a shaky gasp as his thickness stretches you out, he groans as he slowly starts to buck his hips "So fucking tight, baby" he picks up speed slowly before giving it his all, you can't hold back anything as he fucks you hard, all of your moans and whines fly from your mouth without a care. Eddie wraps his fingers around your hair and yanks you back to him making you arch your back even more as you turn your head to look at him. "How's this cock feel?" You could hear all of his lust for you in those words over the sound of slapping skin" Better than that fucking toy huh?" He asks rhetorically before releasing your hair and pounding into you even harder.

As you feel all of your limbs shake as he pleasure you, you hear him say all sorts of dirty things out loud like "Should post this for your fans" and "You take cock so well", you don't have the will to reply because your brain can't form any coherent thoughts. Your heart was racing a mile a minute after your third orgasm, Eddie's groans became louder and his breathing much heavier as he was about to cum, "s-shit" he stuttered out, his hips bucking hard against your ass as he unleashed his seed into you. He loosens his grip on your hips and slowly pulls out of you leaving a trail of his cum to drip on the couch, he slumps back onto the couch and pants hard, he wipes some sweat off his forehead before looking over at you as you flip back over.

It was like he came back to his senses immediately after he came, his eyes widened before he buried his face into his hands "fuck- what have I done?" you could hear his muffled voice cry out, he fucked up big time and there's nothing to do to change it. He sighs and looks up but he averts your gaze, "Not a word about this to anyone, agreed?"

You swallow hard before nodding, "Agreed." You felt terrible about what just happened. "I- I'm sorry about this." You apologize weakly

"Don't be," his voice was calming but still raspy from the sex "It's not all your fault. We'll pretend this never happened."

You reach for your pants and try to put them on as quickly as possible, fuck you think as you remember you have work and you're now an hour late, "I've gotta get going" you say as you stand up and quickly button up your pants and slip on your shoes and stand up, you look down at him laid out on the couch. "I'll see you later?"

He looks up at you, clearly debating what to say, he sighs before saying, "Yeah, see you later."

You give him a final nod before quickly walking towards the door.

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Tags: + everyone who asked for a part 2!

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[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

���X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[neonghostlights]

Part Two Here

You couldn’t help the tears burning at your eyes, begging to be let loose and into the world.

Eddie stood before you, feet shifting awkwardly against the crunchy, dead grass infront of the trailer.

His wide eyes looked down at the ground, like he couldn’t stand to see the look on your face anymore.

“So you’re telling me,” you paused, taking a breath to keep yourself from sobbing, “we can’t be friends anymore because you got a girlfriend?”

The blinds in the trailer shifted out of the corner of your eye and you glanced up just in time to see her disappearing back into the house like she hadn’t been watching you get your heart ripped out of your chest by your best friend.

It was your mistake to stop by his trailer early this morning but in your defense it wasn’t like you had ever been told not to come to the trailer before. There was always an open door policy. Hell, you even had your own key just like he had one to your trailer and there were many times over the years that you would just find him in your space.

You did everything together.

You and Eddie had been best friends forever, ever since he moved into the trailer park just three trailers down from yours as a child. He was your other half in boy form. You were so close that you finished eachother’s sentences.

Eddie sighed and raised his eyebrows at you like he was grasping for straws on what to say. You knew how his brain worked, how flustered he got when he had to inevitably hurt your feelings.

You knew he had a girlfriend, you even met her once. She seemed shy and didn’t speak to you much but you didn’t think anything of it. He had been spending a lot of time with her but you didn’t even question anything was up until he screamed at you this morning when you walked into the trailer to see if he wanted to get breakfast with you.

She was there. In his bed.

You felt like a big idiot.

“It makes her uncomfortable when you’re around,” was all he said.

You nodded once, chewing on your bottom lip until you tasted blood. You couldn’t even blame her. You thought of yourself in her shoes, how it feel to see your boyfriend so close with someone that wasn’t you.

What no one else knew was that time was running out between you and Eddie, a little secret that you had been keeping and planned on telling him over breakfast this morning after a night of not being able to sleep because of the plaguing guilt.

You turned, slowly walking towards your own trailer, towards the college acceptance letter that sat secretly in your nightstand drawer. You waited to hear him call out, to yell that he would be by later and that he didn’t mean what he said but it never happened. It just made you pack your things faster.

————

Part two here

I’ll probably write more to this later on

[livinginshambles]

How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

_________________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

@targaryenmoony @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @quackitysdrugdealer @gaysludge @acciotwinz @in2meijasworld @shadowbriar @kategables @prongsprincessworld @devilsnightz @lavandersblues @inesven

[klausysworld]

I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.

Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.

Left for dead

Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.

Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.

Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"

[luveline]

i have a request for bombshell!reader if you're up for it!! <33 maybe somehow the team finding out that they're *actually* together and their reactions to it!! it would be soo funny i think naisnakaka 😭 thank you and i hope you have a good day!!

thank you lovely, you too ♡ fem

Emily isn't expecting it. She's been betting on you both for months, she has money in the pool, but knowing you're together versus really truly seeing you together are surprisingly separate things. 

Spencer has you up against a wall. It's funny but it isn't, how shockingly intimate the moment is, how you're looking at him like he's hung the moon just for you. “It's not a bad thing,” you're saying, a hand pressed softly to his front. 

He's not kissing you or anything salacious, he's not even really shoving you, he's just got his hands on you, one on your shoulder holding you to the wall and the other just under your arm. “I know it's not, don't worry–” 

“I do worry. I don't want you thinking that anything about you is wrong.” 

Emily should walk away. This is clearly private, but she's just never seen you both like this. She had her suspicions, that behind the shy touches (and the more confident ones from you) and secret smiles was a real, intimate relationship, but to see it displayed in front of her has her jaw dropping. 

“I don't think that," he says quietly, ducking his head in a way that forces you to make eye contact. Emily might call it brave, but it would be better labelled as comfortable. Spencer's not shy because he knows he can be vulnerable with you, and he's reassuring you now because you can do the same. “Why would I think that?” He kisses you. 

It's sudden. Emily almost gasps. 

He pulls away, says, “You don't need to think about that kind of stuff, angel, I know who I am,” over your lips, and then he kisses you again. 

“I just love you,” you say, words half lost in the kissing and the quiet. 

Emily shakes herself and backs away, guilt like lead in her fingertips. She should not have watched so long, no matter how curious, but it's not as though you're in a private place, it's a shared conference room—

“What's with the face?” 

Emily waves her hand, as if to say, don't talk, but Morgan's a fiend and JJ not much better, looking over Emily's shoulder eager for the drama. “What, Prentiss?” Morgan asks. 

“Y/N and Spencer,” she whispers, giving in. 

Morgan's face is a picture, and predictable. He shuffles around Emily and JJ follows, her lips parted in surprise. 

Morgan peeks inside, and doubles back, pushing JJ before she can get a look. “Wait!” she insists in a whisper shout. 

“That's not PG viewing.” 

Emily saw it herself, but she still can't believe it. Nor can she believe when you appear from the conference room together unabashed ten minutes later, Spencer's hair in disarray, his cheeks (and his whole face) a rosy pink. You sit at your desk and Spencer touches your shoulder, promising you a cup of coffee. 

You're smiling as you reapply your lipstick. Your teammates look on in poor acts of casualness.

“You guys are perverts,” you murmur, rubbing your lips together to spread the colour evenly. 

“I– we–” Emily sits back in her seat, defeated. “You could've told us.” 

“Should've,” JJ says. 

“Thought you guys already knew.” You put the cap back on your lipstick and beam at them. “I'm not subtle, am I? But don't tease him too much, okay? We wouldn't want to torture him.” 

“Come on,” Morgan laughs. 

Spencer returns with your coffee. He's not subtle, either, come to think of it, putting your coffee mug carefully on your coaster. “That okay?” he asks. 

You don't even try it. “That's perfect, handsome, thank you.” 

He strokes the soft line of your jaw with the back of his finger, a split second touch that practically glances off of you, and heads back to the kitchenette. Morgan gets up, presumably to chase him down for congratulations, while the girls move in. 

“It's actually funny how it happened,” you say immediately. “I kissed him by accident.” 

“How do you kiss someone by accident?” JJ asks. Emily nods furiously in agreement. 

“Surprisingly easily,” you say, looking as pleased as a person can be. “It was a few weeks ago, we were in the police precinct in Jacobsville…”  

[ptolemaeacles]

♡ becoming hazel callahan's cheerleader gf hcs

pairing: hazel callahan x cheerleader!reader

synopsis: headcanons i have about becoming hazel's cheerleader gf.

notes: … i did rush the ending a bit because i have school and i did not proofread the entire thing but hope guys liked :))))

word count: 1.3k

i'd imagine you guys meet when you decide to join the self defense club that pj and josie were teaching.

she always admired you from afar but being the loser lesbian that she was, she never made a move on you.

eventually, the both of you got paired up to fight. poor baby was so scared she might hurt you, she barely hit you. more like slightly aggressive taps rather than punches.

"c'mon hazel! hit her!" pj yelled from behind you. you had hazel on the ground, crouched over her body. her nose was dripping blood and it was all over her teeth. no matter how many punches you threw her way, she never retaliated. not a single kick or punch was given back to you. the sight of you on top of her certainly wasn't helping her win this fight.

now that you guys were acquainted, she would get so nervous around you. of course she was always nervous around you but more so now since you actually knew who she was.

you guys would actually speak to each other in the classes you shared instead of her just staring at you. (and you taking quick glances because you're a lot more slick than she is)

hazel convinced herself you were pin straight. to her, there was no way someone so hot was gay. (god damn cheerleader stereotypes) so when she heard from isabel that you liked girls, she had no idea what to do. she had no idea what to do even when she thought you were straight but now it was 10x worse.

she started second guessing every compliment, every time your hand brushed past her when you guys were getting lunch, every single time your eyes held her gaze a little too strongly.

you always thought she was cute. even when she acted a little crazy. the whole bomb situation was actually a bit endearing to you, as concerning as that is. while everyone was in the car, yelling at hazel for setting off a fucking bomb on jeff's car, you squeezed her hand and sent a sweet smile her way. that smile alone erased any feeling of guilt or blame within an instant.

and when pj had said hazel had no friends and called her mom a skank, you were the first person running after her. you searched half the school campus before finding her hiding under the bleachers,

"haze, oh my god, i was so worried about you!" you crouched down and brought hazel into your arms. the nickname brought a warmth to hazel's heart. you were the only person who called her that.

"everything that pj said is not true at all," you let go of her to hold the sides of her face in your hands, "forget all that shit about your mom. and you have friends. you have josie, you have isabel and brittany, you have me."

hazel looked up to you slowly with a new look in her eyes.

"i don't want to be your friend." you felt your heart get heavier for a second. hazel leaned in without thinking. she caught your bottom lip between hers and-

she was kissing you. hazel was kissing you. and to her surprise, you were kissing her back.

after the unexpected love confession under the bleachers (typical high school romance), hazel decided she wanted to take you out on a proper date. it's what you deserved. (plus she's not getting caught in the 'u-haul lesbian' allegations crossfire). unfortunately, those plans were postponed.

she never told you that pj and josie lied about juvie or that she agreed to fight the school's star boxer. (you later find out she had no idea she was fighting him too.)

the aftermath of the fight was terrifying for you. of course, you had seen her bloody face before (and had even been the cause of it before) but it was never this bad.

you stayed with her for a long while after that. always taking notes for her in class and coming by her house to check up on her. the other girls would come by as well. it made you happy that they were all there for her, even after the club disbanded.

you opted to sleep over from time to time which she was always appreciated. it quickly got old when you guys could barely hear each other talk over the sound of ms. callahan and jeff going at it.

both you and hazel were in her bed, laying on your backs, next to each other. hazel laid with her hands behind her head, elbows facing outwards, and you laid with your hands on your stomach, palms facing down. both of you still giggling over a joke hazel made about your shared english teacher earlier.

"hey so, uh, i wanted to ask you something." hazel turned to face you, resting her head against her arm on her pillow.

"yeah? go for it." you turned your head to her.

"well, um, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a da-" hazel's question was interrupted by loud moans and rhythmic thumping coming from her mom's room.

'goddamn it...' hazel thought. it was jeff and her mom again.

"you know what, never mind, it was stupid."

eventually, the game against huntington arrived. hazel was nervous for the game and she wasn't even playing nor did she care about sports. she was going to officially ask you out. and she wasn't going to let anything ruin it this time. she watched you do your cheerleading routine, admiring your uniform. (she was obsessed with it and wanted to see you wearing it all the time. but not even batman could beat that information out of her...)

once again her plans were cut short, when a frantic pj and josie came up to her in bleachers asking her for another distraction. you were in the middle of your routine when you saw hazel running across the field towards the girls from the club. (you didn’t happen to see the little device she had in her hands)

what confused you even more was when hazel ran up to you mid-routine.

you moved your pom poms in a choreographed motion, the way you had been practicing for weeks.

the girls from the club had been running around in the corner of your eye and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. they looked distressed but you had to focus on your routine. that was until hazel came up to you.

she called out your name, loud enough for you to show some concern and put your pom poms downs.

“come ‘ere” she murmured. she wrapped her arms around your waist, slotting her lips between yours.

to say it took you by surprise was an understatement. you tilted your head, deepening the kiss, and brought your hands to either side of her face.

when the both of you pulled away, the mixed groans and cheers finally met your ears. but by then, it seemed you guys had bigger problems.

the fight was chaotic to say the least. the huntington players were known to be ruthless and unforgiving. throughout the entire fight, you and hazel fought back to back, constantly covering the other. more like hazel stared you while you broke a guys nose in. and your mouth definitely didn’t get a little dry when she kicked a guy unconscious.

the fight felt like it had been going on forever, especially with the way your body was aching. you and hazel looked around the field and you see tim getting on the ground, sticking his tongue onto the wet field.

“it’s pineapple juice!” he exclaimed as he got up.

you finally put 2 and 2 together.

you turn to hazel.

“we did all that for jeff?”, you huffed, “god, we’re just as brain dead as the rest of the school.” hazel chuckled before bringing her bloody, bruised hands to either sides of your waist.

“i wanted to ask you something and i’m not letting anyone ruin it this time,” she looked at you with a newfound confidence, “will you go out with me? i know it took me a long time to ask, i was looking for a good moment-“

you crashed your lips into hers, shutting her up. which she took as a definite yes.

taglist: @heartrobynn @masclover111

[stxrvel]

the house (2)

hi guys! i felt so inspired that i was able to write part 2 soon and that's a very rare thing for me. thank you so much for all your comments and notes! they made me very happy. see you in the next one!

summary: Azriel wasn't gonna give in so easily with Rhysand, but he had to do everything he could to ensure his mate's well-being pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +3.5k warnings: bad words and fights and angst and a lot of anger. also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!

part 1: the cliff

part 3: the court

part 4: the routine

“... what the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Az, I had no idea-”

“What does that fucking power works for if you're not gonna use it right?”

Cassian stood back from the commotion, with Nesta and Mor on either side of him watching from head to head as words crossed. Azriel was raising his voice and snarling at his own High Lord, and Cassian was almost surprised to see the way Rhys only dropped his shoulders, looking at his brother with sunken eyes as he claimed him. He had no intention of defending himself, Cassian could almost feel how embarrassed and remorseful Rhys was from a distance.

Azriel had a right to be angry, everyone knew that. And no one would stand in the way (unless the situation turned violent) because they understood the lengths you could go to just to safeguard your mate's well-being. Rhys would do it for Feyre. Cassian would do it for Nesta. Cassian always believed that this was how he would see Azriel defend his mate, right when he found her, and he was grateful that Rhys understood that his cries came from beyond rage and anger. There was anguish there, pain, guilt… Cassian had never seen Azriel so upset.

Returning to the Town House was torturous. Azriel wouldn't leave his mate's side and wouldn't allow any of his brothers to get close either, but she wasn't willing to go to a place she didn't know at all either, even if her mate accompanied her. Cassian had to watch his friend be more cautious and careful than ever with someone he never thought he had to be: with himself and Rhys. The sight was bleak as Azriel's shadows swirled around him and his mate, almost as if erecting a wall between the four of them. The looks Azriel sent them were like daggers and just by sharing a glance they knew that this was something the Shadowsinger wasn't going to overcome out of thin air, even if hundreds of years of friendship gave him the confidence to do so.

Azriel had to make a promise with her to convince her to leave, because he wasn't willing to let her disappear from his sight and she wasn't willing to just go with them for the sake of it, when one of the men in front of her was the one who pushed her off the cliff.

Cassian noticed several times Azriel watching the tattoo with crystallized eyes. Beyond everything, the hostile and distrustful context of the whole situation caused him pain.

Arriving at the Town House, they were all assembled. Without wondering too much without Rhys having spoken to Feyre (which he surely had), Cassian ran into the kitchen where Nesta was with her sisters and enveloped his mate in a tight embrace. Within seconds he heard movement around him and knew Rhys had done the same. Neither of them would ever be able to forgive each other for what had happened, if Azriel ever forgave them first.

“Az, I'm truly sorry,” Rhys stood behind his desk, the only thing that allowed him distance from a heated Azriel, besides Feyre's presence which the Shadowsinger respected even within his rage. “I was careless with the inmates. And you're right, it was easier for me to have simply looked inside her head. It had been a long time coming and I think I became confident of the reality of the situation, that whenever I saw inside them I knew what they were. I didn't give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry, brother.”

“Your apologies are worthless,” Azriel spat, his face almost red from the way he was trying to contain his emotions and his hands resting on the table. Rhys lowered his head in front of him, running his hands over his face. “How are you going to fix with your words what for years broke under your nose? How can I come to look at you with respect when my mate is terrified to see you?”

Cassian felt Nesta's hands wrap around his right arm and he lowered to look at her questioningly. She had reserved her comments from the moment Cassian had told the two sisters what had happened. Feyre had escorted Rhys to his office after their effusive hug and Cassian had stayed with Nesta and Elain in the kitchen, talking. With Elain it had been a little easier, her face looked mortified and she had run after Rhys and Feyre barely understood what had happened.

Nesta… she tried not to show what she was thinking, but Cassian knew there was something that made her feel upset and insecure.

Cassian tugged at the bond, trying to get her attention and Nesta had to drag her gaze from Azriel to look at her mate. Cassian felt the air rush out of his chest when he noticed the tears under her eyes. He didn't waste a second in leading her out of the room, moving into the giant living room in complete darkness, despite it being barely noon. The maroon curtains lent a more somber look to the situation.

“What's wrong?”

Nesta closed her eyes as Cassian's hands cradled her face, letting out a pair of tears that furrowed the border with her cheeks. A ragged breath left her and Cassian felt the agony of her nervousness shake his body.

“I had already seen her,” she whispered, her eyelids tightening. Cassian frowned, but didn't interrupt her when she came up for air again. “I once accompanied Rhysand and Feyre to the camp. Feyre had told me that Rhysand had some business to take care of on the mountain. I heard… I heard her voice…”

Cassian pulled his mate closer by the shoulders, pressing her against his chest as her voice broke off.

“I heard her voice begging Rhysand to believe her,” Nesta continued, trying to still the sobs that were born in the ache in her chest. Cassian shared the sentiment, the end of the bond in his chest twisting with his mate's wailing. “She was so scared…”

Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian's torso, sinking her face into her mate's neck. Cassian moved from side to side, trying to send warm sensations through the bond, trying to calm her down a bit.

Nesta's revelation left Cassian almost frozen. The last time Rhys had gone to the mountain had been ten years ago.

-

Azriel hadn't expected that to be the way he would meet his mate, much less would he have expected her to be terrified to be around his brothers and almost himself and, of course, much, much less had he expected to hold so much resentment against Rhysand.

His mate hadn't left the room Azriel had left her in, as far away from the others' rooms as possible. With the tattoo burning his skin, Azriel had not only promised her that she would be safe in the Town House, but she had also made him promise that her interactions with his brothers would be next to none. With the watchful eyes of his friends from centuries ago upon his back, Azriel agreed. He had to make sure to provide for his mate's physical and mental health, especially when he knew that the time she had spent with the Ilyrian soldiers had to have been traumatizing.

And of course, there was also the issue of the bond.

His mate couldn't or didn't know how to control the flow of emotions that traveled through the bond and Azriel felt it all. At the moment she was relaxed, calm inside the room away from everyone, but Azriel was losing his temper in the living room. His friends were gone, they had left him a moment alone when he had finished yelling at Rhysand, as he tried to control his emotions and those of her mate, who had surely been listening to everything and so was sending distressing sensations through the bond.

But even with all that space to himself he still felt like he couldn't breathe.

He didn't know how things were going to be from now on. The mere thought terrified him to the bone. He didn't know how he would deal with the fact that he wanted and was dying to be near his mate, to hold her, to comfort her, to support her, to protect her just a step away from him, but he couldn't, at least for now. The need consumed him and tormented him. Staying behind had never been an option, especially if it was his mate, but what could he do if that was what she wanted? He would have to get used to the pain, the emptiness he already felt in his life even though it had barely been half a day since he had found her.

Ah, Azriel didn't know how much guilt and pain he could carry until his knees failed.

He closed his eyes for a couple of minutes, laying his head back on the couch, his face settled in the direction of the ceiling. He tried to relax his muscles, stiff from the tension and stress, from the speed with which everything had happened in the last few hours. Maybe then he could get some sleep. He didn't know how it would be now that he had found his mate.

Azriel was beginning to feel his body going numb, the inattention to his senses and the lightness of his limbs, when a pair of light footsteps entered the room. They would've gone unnoticed by anyone, but not him. He lifted his head attending to the sound, finding you on your feet, frozen, all around the entrance to the living room, hands clasped together twitching in nervousness.

Azriel didn't know what to do. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. But he also felt the fear and nervousness coursing through the bond from the other end. He tried to send calm through his end, hoping that and the shadows crowding at her feet, which hadn't left her since they found her, would allow her to relax a bit.

“I'm sorry… for interrupting,” you looked down and Azriel had to stifle the urge that went through his body to get up and go running to your side. His head filled with the memories of his dream, cruelly comparing the happiness that was in them and the sadness that now engulfed you. Your voice was barely a whisper.

“It's okay,” Azriel stood up carefully and quietly, catching your attention. From the way you brought your hands to your chest, still clasped together, Azriel made no attempt to move closer.

“I need to ask you something,” you fought with the words until you finally told him and a current of panic ran through the bond, so strong that Azriel had to hold back the grimace on his face.

“Whatever you need.”

You looked at him again and Azriel felt something in his chest blossom. He sent that feeling through the bond, hoping it would counteract the anxiety on your end, but only received a frown in response.

“I need to contact my parents,” you asked, shifting your feet a little closer and Azriel quickly caught the pleading expression you were trying poorly to hide.

“Sure. Where are they? I can take them a letter, if you want,” Azriel offered, but your reply wasn't welcome as a spasm of pain ran through his chest.

“No… I-I-I don't want that,” you shook your head, lowering your head. The way you moved your intertwined fingers made him question how much courage you'd had to muster to come out of your room and ask him that. You must've wanted it badly. Surely it was all you could think about for all the years you were on the mountain. Azriel moved his hand from side to side across his chest, through the fabrics of his clothing.

“We'll do what you want, then. Tell me where they are.”

“Adriata,” you whispered, eyes glittering.

Azriel choked. Of course, former prisoner of the Summer Court. How would he get across the border if he had a blood ruby in his desk drawer? Rhysand and he were still mortal enemies of the Summer Court.

“And how do you want to contact them?”

“I want to go back.”

“What?” he coughed, his body tensing and the calm evaporating from his body in a second. Surprise narrowly prevented him from noticing your crystallized eyes.

“Azriel,” you implored, taking long strides towards him, frozen in place, electricity coursing through his veins from the way you said his name. “I don't even know how long it's been since I last saw them. Please, please. That was all I've ever wanted since I was captured. I just want to see them and let them know I'm okay. Please.”

Azriel stood there on his feet in front of you, barely acknowledging the fact that you had moved so close to him that from just raising a hand he could run down your cheeks. Your request had torn at his chest and he was sure he hadn't been able to keep some of that emotion from traveling through the bond, because now you looked more disgruntled and nervous than before. Now you wanted to… leave? And you were asking him to let you do it, as if he had any right to keep you here, as if you owed him anything?

The Shadowsinger clasped his hands at his sides, trying to contain his emotions behind the line, trying to keep them from affecting you too much. He had never felt such pain, not even something he could imagine, nothing that had ever hurt him before could compare to the pain of that moment. He hadn't had a moment with her and he had to let her go already.

“You want to go back… to Summer Court,” Azriel murmured, trying to confirm the obvious, as if you repeating it made it more real, as if he needed it to be sure.

“Yes,” you shook your head in assent and Azriel's heart crinkled as he noticed your desperation. Of course that would be the first thing you would want to do, how could he have been so selfish as to not even consider it before? How could he not have suggested it from before?

“You… I don't… I mean-”

“Azriel,” you took another step, hesitant, he could tell by your body language, but trying to keep the assurance on your face. “I need to see them. Please.”

“All right. Just… wait,” Azriel moved to the side, trying to clear his mind and think rationally even though your closeness was suffocating him. “There's something you should know.”

“I know the Night Court and the Summer Court aren't on good terms,” you shook your head, as if to tell Azriel that it was a silly problem that should have no bearing on your return.

“Yes, but that's not all,” moving his hands away from his already sufficiently tousled hair, Azriel looked at you in anguish. “If you go back to Summer Court now, I don't think you'll be able to come back again.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Rhysand has held the Summer spies captive for…. many, many years. Tarquin has tried to negotiate their release, but Rhysand is not open to negotiating with him, or even seeing him again,” Azriel tried to explain, not overlooking the way you flinched when he mentioned the high lord's name. “If you leave now… If your parents declared you missing… Tarquin's not going to let you go out again. And they won't let me in either because the moment they see me they'll try to kill me.”

The silence that followed his words was agonizing. Azriel was terribly frightened. It didn't calm him to know that the doubt in your eyes was minimal; the desire to see your parents again was greater than the possibility of never seeing your mate again. The mere thought made him shudder, but if that was the case, there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing.

“Why… why wouldn't my High Lord let me come back?”

“Fifteen years ago the high lord forbade his people to return to the Night Court. Fifteen years ago no person from the Summer Court has gone beyond the mountains of Day.”

“Fifteen years?” you stammered, an expression of incredulous surprise taking over your face. “I'd been there for more than fifteen years?”

Azriel halted his movements, barely noticing how you succumbed to gravity and plopped down on the couch where he had been a couple of minutes earlier in complete stupefaction.

“Y/N, I'm really sorry-”

“I can't stay here,” you looked at him again, shaking your head in refusal and sending a current of panic through the bond. “I don't want to. I need… I need to see my parents. I want to be with them.”

Azriel shuddered at the desperation he saw in your eyes. He wasn't going to deny you that, ever. But he couldn't deny that he wanted to show resistance because, if you left right then, when would he ever see you again? They wouldn't even have time to talk about the elephant in the room, but, at the same time, it didn't seem like the most important conversation at the moment.

Azriel wanted to cry.

“It's okay. Don't worry. Of course you'll go see them,” he finally spoke, facing the reality he would have to live in from now on.

“Thank you,” you cried and Azriel felt each tear pierce his heart, even though the feeling of relief reached all the way to his chest, your relief, mixed with his hopelessness. “But, you… you won't be able to go.”

“No.”

“We won't be able to see each other.”

“No,” Azriel exhaled sharply and shook his head slightly. “But I'll work it out. Somehow.”

“You can't go near there. Tarquin would hurt you!”

Azriel felt the worry reach from the other end of the bond to his chest and was a little glad to know that you at least cared about him the same way he cared about you.

“I'll make an agreement. Whatever I have to do, I'll do it. I promise.”

You nodded in his direction, convinced of his words, convinced of his shaky assurance and confidence.

“And you… will you accompany me?”

You frowned when he shook his head, but quickly added, thinking he'd be mad and damned if he'd let you spend the return trip all alone after all you'd been through, “I know a faster way to travel.”

“Okay,” you nodded, calm finally ruling in your body. “So when do we leave?”

-

Everyone in the house had gathered to receive Azriel's announcement and things were breaking down just as he expected.

No one had said anything for several minutes after the Shadowsinger announced that he would be going to the Summer Court with you, to return you to where you belonged, to your true home.

“I'll do it,” Mor was the first to speak, to Azriel's right, watching him confidently. She turned to look at Rhysand, who hadn't looked up since his brother finished speaking, deep in thought with a hand on his chin. “I'll request a meeting with him.”

Cassian stirred at Azriel's left side, sweeping his gaze over everyone present. He could almost imagine what was going through his friend's head, helpless at not being able to join him, just as it must've been going through Rhysand's mind. Azriel knew the only reason his High Lord was still thinking was that. If it was risky for the Shadowsinger to go, it would be worse if it was both of them.

“I can go too,” Feyre spoke to Rhysand's right and the aforementioned raised his head in a second, beginning to shake his head in denial.

“For no reason should you ever step near that Court again,” Rhysand stood up, resting his hands on the desk and leaning towards his mate. His face contracted, contrasting with Feyre's warm gaze.

“Rhys, don't you think it's time to get this over with?” Feyre reached up to cradle his mate's face, Rhysand leaning in almost on instinct, betrayed by his senses.

“You want me to overlook so easily what he did to you?” the High Lord frowned, closing his eyes under Feyre's gentle touch.

“Not easily, Rhys. It's been fifty years.”

“You know fifty years is nothing to us,” Rhysand snorted, straightening his back.

The Shadowsinger clicked his tongue.

“It was too much for Y/N.”

No one in the room had to look twice to know that Azriel was tense, hands clasped behind his back. Rhysand turned to see him, his wary look of apology over his friend's stony expression.

“You know I didn't come here to ask your permission, Rhysand,” Azriel almost spat, dragging the words out between his teeth.

Mor shuddered beside him, following Cassian's gaze. In so many centuries, there had obviously been trouble between the Inner Circle for some time, but in this moment it felt different, deeper and more painful. The anger and rancor in Azriel's gaze was unmatched and to earn that facet of the Shadowsinger you really had to be a son of a bitch. Mor hoped she was wrong.

“It could be dangerous for you,” Rhysand warned and Azriel had to stifle a wry chuckle. The way his High Lord's features contorted gave him to understand that he had understood the twitch in his muscles all too well.

“I don't care what you think,” Azriel bellowed, clasping his hands at his sides. “I'll go with her, and since Mor offered I'd greatly appreciate it if she'd accompany us.”

Rhysand didn't respond, settling for sharing a glance with his brother, trying to reach a part of him that was minimally willing to forgive him. Azriel sensed his intrusion and angrily erected a wall of obsidian in his mind, miles away, forcibly pulling Rhysand out of his head. The aforementioned barely staggered to his feet.

“Fine, but I'd like to be kept informed of everything that happens,” Rhysand nodded looking at Mor, who barely returned the gesture and left the office to manage the meeting as soon as possible.

When the doors rattled and the room fell silent again, Rhysand looked at Azriel pleadingly.

“Az-”

“If that's all.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Azriel turned on his heels and stormed off. Cassian followed close behind, barely sending a glance at his high lord, his brother, saying with his gaze how sorry he was that it had all happened and ended like this.

[azrielwingspan]

SOON (THEO NOTT X READER)

Summary : Theodore Nott was just another Slytherin asshole to most of Hogwarts. But to you, he was something much much more.

Themes : Mild kissing and swearing.

A/N : This is my first Theo fic AHHH. Just thought I would give it a shot. Let me know how it is!

P.S.- This is strictly a one shot. There will be no part 2.

"He is quite charming isn't he?" Ginny commented sneaking a glance at Theodore Nott. Seated at the Slytherin table between his usual rowdy gang of friends, he smirked at something Lorenzo had said.

"I think the word you're looking for is enigmatic, Gin. For all we know, he could be Voldemort in disguise." you stated flatly, stabbing a piece of potato on your plate. Earning a smack on the arm for using You-know-who's name so boldly, you ignored Ginny's attempts at convincing you to attend the party being thrown tonight.

"Help me understand why you're so bloody against the idea?! Is it because you have to bring a date?" she raised her eyebrows in question.

"That may be a part of the reason." you refused to meet her owl like stare, instead choosing to focus on the copy of the Daily Prophet in front of you.

"Why would that be an issue ? I can name five people off the top of my head who would say yes instantly." she prodded further, thankfully choosing to redirect her gaze towards the mail she'd received. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, you snuck a glance at Theodore again. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled upto his elbow and you greedily took in the sight of his veiny forearms.

"What are you looking at?" Ginny broke you out of the reverie, your eyes immediately flitting towards the shawl Pansy was wearing.

"Pansy's new shawl. I can't recall which store I've seen it in but it looks very familiar." The lie rolled out smoothly, misleading Ginny. The pang of guilt ,that never lessened in impact, hit you yet again.

"Oh. Yeah, it does look quite familiar now that you mention it." She went off on a tangent about clothes and you let out a relieved sigh.

Ginny couldn't know. Not for now atleast.

The morning went on, your focus elsewhere during most of the classes. Ginny hadn't brought up the party again but you knew it was unavoidable. You were definitely acting quite strange. Not being the one to turn down an invite, your sudden refusal to attend this massive party did come as a surprise to your friends.

You had your reasons. Utterly selfish reasons.

However as the evening rolled by, Ginny had cornered you into agreeing. On bringing up the issue of the date, she'd simply shrugged and said "I took care of it."

That did not sound very reassuring.

It was worse than you had expected.

"CORMAC MC FUCKIN LAGGEN ?!?" you hissed at Ginny , your back to the boy in question.

Ginny looked away sheepishly and said "He told Hermione who told me that he had a thing for you. So I thought you guys could talk? I mean you don't have to really. Just drop him off in a corner."

"Drop him---" pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you whipped around to face Laggen and gave him a saccharine smile.

"Nice to meet you Laggen but I'm not interested."

He looked astounded, trying to wrap his head around the rejection. After a few seconds, he managed to sputter out "We haven't talked yet. How can you--"

"Yes. Yes I can. You have my permission to tell everyone I'm your date but please don't approach me again. Bye." you sauntered off into the party, Ginny keeping up behind you.

"Where's Harry anyways?" you asked, straining your neck to see past the crowd.

"Running late. Neville set his pants on fire so Ron and Harry are helping him out."

Shaking your head in amusement, you let your eyes run around the room searching for him.

There.

Theo sat on the couch near the fireplace, one arm thrown around the back , a glass of amber liquid in the other. The smoke from Mattheo's cigarette made his figure hazy.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink." Ginny said her voice floating by. You nodded distractedly , your attention held captive by Theo.

As if sending your presence behind him , he turned his head around and met your eyes. Slight confusion marred his face making his eyebrows furrow. He hadn’t expected you to be here.

Signalling to you with a quick nod of his head, he excused himself from his group of friends and made his way to his dorms. You stayed down for a couple more minutes , getting yourself a drink to throw off suspicion.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Ginny change your mind?” Pansy popped out of the blue , startling you.

“Uh.. Pansy, hey. Yeah you know how Gin is.” Pansy was a bit of a talker. Aware that this conversation could go on forever , you tried to come up with an excuse. “Hey listen, I’ve got to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll find you again alright?”

Not waiting for a response , you made your way in the direction of the bathrooms and took a sharp turn in the opposite direction once you made sure Pansy had redirected her attention. Sneaking up the stairway to the boys dorm, you took a moment for yourself outside Theo’s dorm room, straightening out your clothes.

“Took you long enough.” His voice drawled as you entered his room, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of comfort.

“Pansy almost started a conversation.” You said laughing lightly at his wide eyed expression.

“Didn’t take you long then.” He corrected his previous statement , prowling towards you.

“No. I guess it didn’t.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into a searing kiss that had you holding onto his shirt for balance. The words 'I missed you' played at the tip of your tongue struggling to be let out.

He nipped at your lower lip , a breathy sigh leaving you as you tangled your hands in his hair.

"Cormac Mc fuckin Laggen? Seriously?" Theo muttered , lowering his head to place soft kisses across your jaw. Leaning your head back to give him more access, you let out a soft laugh. "That's exactly what I said. Ginny is the real culprit."

A strangled moan left your lips as he sucked at your neck, immediately soothing it with a sloppy kiss. "T-Theo..you idiot. That's gonna leave a mark." He just hummed in response seemingly lost in the pleasure. Tugging his head back, you made him meet your gaze head on.

"If we stay up here for any longer, they'll suspect." A shiver passed through you as his hands trailed lower and cupped you arse, pulling your hips to his. "Let them." he said dropping his head to capture your lips once more.

"THEO, YOU IN THERE ??" Blaise Zabini's voice boomed through the door making you jump. A string of Italian curses left Theo's mouth as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah give me a minute!"

Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned down to your face placing you at eye level. "It'll all be over soon alright? We won't have to hide anymore. We can be free." The promise in his eyes lit a spark of hope within you, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Soon." you whispered , your eyes fluttering shut as you placed a kiss on his Dark Mark.

[bakugoushotwife]

no, please don’t kill me mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!

>>> you didn’t think you were making it out of kinktober without a visit from ghostface, did you? all cute and sweet pieces, blegh. it's time to play...happy halloween—don’t hang up on me you bitch!

>>> cw: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. NO MINORS. dark content ahead. inspired by scream 1996. murder, blood, gore, stalking, yandere!characters, ghostface!characters, manipulation, major character death, alternate no curses!reality, physical harm to reader, manhandling, knifeplay, costumed sex, prone bone, dub con, non con just in case tbh, biting, choking spanking, face-slap, degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc), praise, breeding, doggy, blood consumption, mating press, throat fucking, edging, double penetration, fingering/knife-fucking (?) (f!receiving) anal. threesome mfm/mmf, breeding. let me know if i missed anything. >>> wc: 15.8k >>> event masterlist: >>> playlist

you were starting to get majorly freaked out. the past year or so had been the worst of your life. your college professor was murdered last fall—sending the small town into a frenzy. some people were mortified. how could someone so brutal be lurking in the shadows of this cheery town? they stopped walking to school and carpooled instead, kids no longer played in the yards, and women rarely went out unaccompanied. some people thought it was funny—something interesting to talk about after years of mundane crimes barely making the news.

you were feeling something much more complex than just fear or interest; you were battling grief. grief that no one else even knew about, adding to the complexity of your feelings. toji was just your business professor—one that you paid frequent visits to on and off campus. you did a good job of covering your tracks, coming up with lie after lie to keep your friends well distracted from your taboo hook-ups with the community’s favorite teacher. they would bully you to tears if they knew you gave your virginity to dr. fushiguro—and between satoru and suguru’s relentless teasing, you would never know peace again. 

plus, it’s nearly been a year, and you were nothing more than the other woman, a young girl that caught his attention over the monotony of marriage. it wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that. in a way, the emotions you grappled with weren’t grief at all—but guilt. toji had young children—what you did was wrong. you felt that way when he was alive and you were actively doing it—but something about him pulled you in. maybe it was your own naivety that was to blame for believing him when he promised you he would leave his wife for you–all just to get you to put out again and put off your friends. maybe it was the subconscious belief that he was the best you would get, the best you deserved. your parents were hardly winning any awards for their methods, and the only other men in your life have been around you since high school, the aforementioned relentless teasers: satoru gojo and suguru geto. 

you like to think that you put it all behind you, but you can’t stop this creeping feeling that toji fushiguro was murdered because of you. 

and that wasn’t the end of the weird happenings. your lab partner—kento nanami unceremoniously dropped out this month, so the rumors around campus say, but you have a bad feeling about it. you’ve been calling him for days with no response, he has no after school work presence, and his best friend looks like he’s seen a ghost anytime you’re around. it was all the school was talking about, especially approaching the anniversary of dr. fushiguro’s death. 

“i say he was murdered, just like the professor. we have a real serial killer on our hands, ladies and gents!” ieiri shoko—a haphazard extension of your friend group—wiggles her brows, reclined back on her hands to survey the rest of you as she puffs her cigarette. 

gojo rolls his eyes, giving the speaker an unimpressed look. “i think they gotta tick a few more boxes before it’s a serial killer, no? only two murders, and so far apart?” he shakes his head to discount the theory. he makes a good point, perhaps it was just a creepy coincidence after all. there’s no reason to freak yourself out over nothing.  

“yeah? well i think it’s connected too.” iori says from her spot on the ground, her head laying in your lap as you braid and unbraid her hair, just keeping your brain occupied on something other than the death that seems to follow you. 

“yeah? and that’s why you don’t get paid for thinkin’.” gojo snickers, utahime’s annoyed attempt to swat at him blocked by suguru’s body, the two of them sitting behind you at the picnic tables out in the open sun. it made you feel a little safer, surrounded by friends and in a place where you could keep an eye out. you trust gojo and geto to watch your back.

satoru continues to giggle on about it until shoko interrupts, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and pointing gojo down with it. “what if they just pick one of us every year–some kind of halloween sacrifice?” she posits, and your eyes widen. the boys exchange a look, and suguru’s voice of reason cuts in. 

“let’s leave the detective work to the police, yeah? i’m sure sheriff zen’in wants to solve his nephews murder.” he leans back against the table while gojo balances his weight with his elbows on his knees. 

“yeah right. the sheriff couldn’t give a damn. ” you scoff, biting your tongue at the fact you spoke on the subject at all, but especially something so vague—implying you know more about toji than the normal student, and your cautious friends are also perceptive, you fear. 

“what’s that s’pposed to mean? our loyal piggy doesn’t wanna protect the community?” gojo leans forward on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. he’s studying you—every nervous shift of your eyes, the seconds you let pass before you answer, everything, and you know it. 

“of…course he does. i only meant—” 

“pshhh, everyone knows those zen’in families are weird.” utahime swings in to save you—feeling the way your body tenses under your best friends interrogating stare “why d’you think his last name is fushiguro instead, hm? probably left the family to be a better person—how dreamy of him.” she sighs wistfully, having been another one of the many girls that would have killed to be in your place. “and that old bastard probably doesn’t care. he probably did it himself, knowing how corrupt–”

“smoking on campus, are we, students?” headmaster yaga walks up to send the conversation to a screeching halt. shoko quickly snuffs out her butt on her boot, crumpling the evidence in her hand as the man comes closer. suguru’s never quite cared about the opinions of his elders, and he won’t start now. he keeps slowly dragging his—making eye contact with the headmaster as he comes to a stop before your group in the grass. “geto. you mind?”

he arches his brow in annoyance, sticking out his tongue to burn the ash on. gojo giggles. “what an anarchist!” he cheers jovially, nudging his friend with his elbow. “we didn’t see any no smoking signs sir, swear.” 

suguru cracks a lazy grin at the defense, looking at yaga patiently. “i’m sure you’ve heard the news about your fellow classmate.” he starts, and utahime sits up properly to question him more specifically. 

“that he dropped out? yeah–we heard that days ago.” she confronts with furrowed brows. you can tell by the clench of yaga’s jaw that there’s more news. your heart sinks to your stomach, that bad feeling you had making an ugly return with the shifting of yaga’s stance. 

“what–did they find him?!” you push yourself up to stand, heart pounding in your ears. if kento was dead, was it your fault too somehow? 

yaga turns to you with a sad and curt nod. “they did. he was…strung up outside of his house–brutally murdered. his parents found him. all we know so far is that he was on the phone when he died. his mother heard him.”

you cover your mouth with shaky hands. how awful, to hear your own son gargle his last breaths? what a horrible way to go, you can’t believe your stoic and stern lab partner was no more, meeting a fate so horrible you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemies. 

“how awful…his poor family.” iori shakes her head, too stunned to speak further. shoko replaces her cigarette with a fresh lollipop, lost in her own head; no doubt contemplating the morbid horror film most closely resembling the current situation—she has a fixation with death.

“there will be a memorial fundraiser to help his family with the funeral costs.” yaga nods, arms folded over his chest. he was clearly at a loss for words, though what could one even really say? he settled for, “be wary, kids. the sheriff’s department will be issuing a curfew. please be safe.” 

iori nods as the headmaster walks away—turning back to look at everyone. you hug yourself, feeling a chill in the air that only reminds you of what time of year it is—halloween. you’re still lost in thought, wondering what toji and nanami could have possibly had in common outside of knowing you and being at this school. what motive could be, who was next. 

satoru and suguru exchange a look. they can see how wound up you are, noting that you seemed to know that something had happened to nanami before you were told. shoko breaks the silence first.

“this is just like scream, you know? spooky phone calls and brutal killings—says here that he was gutted and suspended from a tree.”  she shakes her head, reading the pixelated news article from her nokia screen—grossed out and intrigued at the same time. 

iori gasps, “that’s awful—don’t compare his death to a movie, ieiri!” she scolds, noticing you off in la la land. “earth to y/n…hellooooo? i hope this isn’t a scary movie because you are so dying first.” she snarks, and gojo arches his brows and grins mischievously at the sentiment. he gets to his feet, creeping up behind you–jerking you by the shoulders and gasping just to scare you. 

you scream and jump back—punching him in the chest. “you jerk!’ you huff as he covers his stomach with laughter, stumbling back into his bench seat. suguru gives you an apologetic smile, standing and offering you his hand. 

“c’mon, let me walk you home.” he tilts his head towards the path you take. gojo jumps up too. 

“i’ll come with! make up for my prank?” he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. his icy blue gaze stays trained on you until you finally give in and look at him, making a bright grin spread across his face. 

shoko huffs, “you’re an insensitive asshat—i’m sure you’re not taking this seriously because you always picked on kento. i wonder if the piggies know that!” 

“he was a nerd—that’s all!” he scoffs with an eye roll, “oh yeah, so now i killed the guy, huh?” he furrows his brows, insulted by shoko’s insinuation that he could stoop so low. 

“no one said that, satoru.” suguru claps his free hand down on the other’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “let’s all relax. i know this is scary, so make sure we walk in partners, at least.” 

utahime gags and rolls her eyes at the dramatics, stretching out before getting to her feet. you look to her, thinking you should make sure your fellow woman makes it to her dorm, but suguru’s voice cuts through your thoughts again.

“we just want to make sure you get home safely with all of this going on, you look…worried.” suguru comments, stretching his palm out to remind you that his hand was extended for you. your heart warms at his kindness. he’s always been a gentle giant–especially compared to satoru; who has his own charms to him like his sense of humor and his striking good looks. he takes care of you in his own ways—but suguru’s always been more traditional. you place your hand in his, smiling thankfully. he turns to the other girls, but yu haibara is already escorting them the other way, careful to avoid you entirely. your shoulders slump at the idea that he blames you for nanami’s death. 

gojo slings an arm around your shoulders and they steer you towards your off campus rental. it’s a little two bedroom one bath—no satoru mansion, but it does the trick. you’re rarely there anyways, bouncing between your friends’ residences for the “dates” you all go on—though ieiri and iori aren’t typically included. 

“so this stuff’s really got you messed up in the noodle, huh?” satoru asks, exchanging careful glances with his opposite. you hum so he knows you heard him, settling into the rhythm they were walking for you. you don’t know if it’s the question or the crisp autumn air that makes you shiver—maybe it’s the way they both watch you so intensely, though the longer you think about it the more you realize they’ve kinda always been like that, letting their eyes stay on you too long, analyzing your features to decipher how you really feel. you can’t hide a thing from them. you can only buy yourself time. 

“yeah. i guess so.” you settle on, tucking your cheek into your shoulder. you knew they would ask for more specifics, all in the due process of taking care of you. 

“were you even close to that nanami guy?” suguru follows up, brows raised in curiosity. you know this trap. it was a miracle you’ve ever been able to keep toji a secret. they’ve always taken a special interest in your love life—they’re protective over you, and wanted to vet any potential match for you. but the boys you met in high school were easily scared off by the strong and intimidating friends of yours, so you figured college wouldn’t be much different. hence why you didn’t try—taking toji’s affection like a gift that fell into your lap. 

“he was my lab partner, so we’ve done a few projects together. he seemed like a nice guy, never crossed any lines. responsible. the sort.” you shrug again, not wanting to seem too invested. “i guess it’s just…weird. he was here one day and now he’s not, and killed so brutally…it doesn’t feel real.” you explain, and suguru seems to reflect on the words. 

“people die all the time, sugar. maybe he got caught up in something he shouldn’t’ve, maybe wrong place wrong time, or maybe he was eyeing something that didn’t belong to him. who knows. no use troubling yourself over it.” gojo shrugs, sliding his hand up to pat the back of your head. 

“that’s easy for you men to say! if some serial killer came after you, you could fight ‘em off. i have no chance if he was…to pick me next.” you retort, trying to make them see why you were so amped up about it. 

“what makes you think that he would pick you next?” suguru furrows his brows, but gojo just tilts his head side to side to mull it over. 

“nanami was a man, right? i wonder why he died.” he thinks aloud, shrugging. you snap your head towards him to chastise him for such a statement, but suguru clears his throat. 

“you have nothing to worry about, right? like satoru said earlier. these are isolated incidents, and they’ve only gone after men so far. chin up, angel.” he insists as you three walk up the steps to your house. 

you take a deep but shaky breath, nodding. suguru was right. the only victims have been men. toji’s death and subsequently nanami’s had nothing to do with each other. it was just your guilt gnawing at you. if you didn’t get yourself together, your perceptive bodyguards would pick up on the fact that you were hiding something from them. “thank you. i…needed to hear that.” you nod in satisfaction. 

“i’ll call you later, just to make sure you’re still..doing alright.” he assures, patting your hand before he drops it. gojo squeezes you into him, ruffling your hair. 

“don’t worry, cutie. we’ll see you tomorrow!! dream of me!” he calls out as their figures retreat.

once the door shuts behind you, you sigh out a breath of relief. 

you get some homework and laundry done in the few hours you have before bed. it’s a regular routine, but that’s why you found peace in it. you make yourself some dinner and cozy up on the couch, flipping through the channels to find something to make some noise outside of your loud brain. nanami’s picture makes you pause on the news, the reporter droning on about the case. according to phone records from that night, someone called his house six times, calls various in length from where kento was allegedly hanging up and trying to ignore the killer. 

“it seems the young man was stalked from outside his home for the entire night—making a valiant effort to run according to forensics before he eventually succumbed to his injuries. the case is ongoing, and due to the nature of the crime, sheriff zen’in has ordered a curfew of 8pm, beginning friday.” 

you’re reeling at the report, stunned beyond belief. it’s hard for you to even envision something so horrible. he must have been so scared. when your home phone rings—you’re jumping out of your skin–scambling up the couch with a scream. you stare at the receiver on the little side table next to you, fear nipping up your spine. that reporter said that nanami had been called repeatedly the night of his death—but suguru also promised to call. you decide to take the chance, satoru lives close enough that you could call him for help if it was this mysterious serial killer instead of one of your best friends on the other line—plus, nanami’s slaughter showed that ignoring the call wouldn’t help a thing. 

you reach out a shaky hand, feeling your throat go dry and tight as your sweaty palm grabs the receiver. like it makes a difference, you quickly put it up to your ear, looking around frantically. you never realized how many windows your house has, and now it feels like you’re naked for the world to see. “hello?”

“hey, angel.” suguru’s luxurious voice calms your nerves instantly, like throwing water on a fire. you relax back into the cushions, sighing audibly. 

“h-hey.” you card your fingers through your hair in attempt to rid yourself of any lingering anxiety. 

“i take it you aren’t feeling better about the whole ordeal then?” he sighs with you, gnawing on his bottom lip a little. you were troublesome for his own nerves. 

you play with the spiral cord connecting the receiver to the landline. “i was, i swear! then i saw the news and they were warning about phones like yaga did earlier and then–”

“your phone rang. sorry about my timing then, sweetheart. did you eat?” he interrupts, but his concern makes you tingle with warmth. they may be overbearing at times, but it’s so clear how much they care about you. 

“mhm. i have some leftovers though, if you’re still hungry. i could…use some company?” you weakly excuse, slightly embarrassed to basically beg for his protection; but the truth was that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless you had some comfort. 

he chuckles softly and smiles into the phone when he agrees. “of course. i’ll be right over. give me ten minutes—i’ll bring slushies.” he hums enticingly, and you give him a choked up chuckle of relief. he would protect you through the night–and make sure that you had a good time, too.

“kk, sounds good. i want the cherry one!” you tell him like he doesn’t already know everything about your preferences. 

“i know you want the cherry—i’m not a psychopath.” he chuckles with you, his car’s engine humming to life in the background. “i’ll see you soon angel. hang tight.” the line goes dead, but you’re no longer filled with a sense of dread, even if you were still nervous about the murderer on the loose. 

while you wait on suguru, you do some more channel surfing. you wonder what satoru’s up to tonight and if he’ll be peeved that he wasn’t invited to hang out. who are you kidding, of course he’ll be jealous. you reach over for the phone to call him—even with suguru’s headstart he would probably still beat him here if you got to him now. the high pitched ringing of the phone sounds off again just as your hand wraps around it, making you jump just slightly—it caught you off guard, is all. it’s probably suguru calling to tell you that 7/11 is out of cherry—they’re always out of cherry. annoyed, you put the receiver to your ear. 

“ugh, don’t tell me—”

“hello y/n.” the slightly garbled deep voice says. you don’t recognize it–and your heart drops to your stomach. this, this is who’s been murdering people, this is him. this is who they warned you about—why suguru is sneaking out to come see you through the night–suguru. you have to buy enough time for him to get here, if nothing else. 

“who are you?” you ask, trying to give your voice some bravado. you start searching the windows again, the eerie sensation that you aren’t alone was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. goddamn you need to invest in a dog. 

“blegh–boring question. i want to know who you are, precious y/n.” the voice states, male in nature, but you can’t distinguish anything past that. your heart races at the avoidance. 

“you know my name, and my phone number. seems to me you know who i am.” you clench your jaw together to keep your teeth from chattering, willing yourself to be intimidating. the voice on the other end cackles in amusement. 

“you’re funny y/n. i mean the real you, silly girl! let’s play a game. for every question you get right, the longer i’ll let you live. every question you get wrong…one of your friends… dies!” he seems very entertained with himself over the threats, making the fear bubble up over your heart. 

“m-my boyfriend is on the way! he’s really big and he’ll beat your ass–” 

“and he’ll be the first one dead! question numero uno, and we’re starting easy!! oh, don’t cry now! you can do it, c’mon, iori and ieiri need you right? those are your girlfriends–and that’s not the first question!” he titters again, but his name drops make your rapidly beating heart still in your chest. “how far away is your little boyfriend?”

your chest heaves, the stranger’s wish for you not to cry was wasted. he knows everything–all your friends names—maybe the fact you hadn’t called satoru tonight was the only thing keeping him safe. you wonder how long this stalker must have been following you, listening to you. you wonder if he killed toji too—and why. 

“l-like…six minutes, or so. I-i don’t know!” you cry out, clutching the receiver. you think about the consequences of hanging up—maybe that is what angered him into killing nanami. you better stay on the line. 

“good girl. see? not that hard! just keep using that noggin’ of yours!” he encourages, breathing heavily into his side of the phone. 

you nod, sure he can see you anyway. you shrink into the couch as if it will swallow you whole and keep you safe, but the feeling of comfort is short-lived. 

“why was toji fushiguro murdered??” 

you blanche. he is responsible. this is…all your fault after all. your worst fears are coming true right in front of you, and suguru cannot get here fast enough to stop it. 

“i…i don’t know! i didn’t do it!” you put your hand over your other ear, trying to ball up and make this all go away. 

“wrong answerrrr. you’ll find out soon that i’m not bluffing, sugar. let’s try again. why was toji fushiguro butchered?”

how does he know? toji must have told people. that’s the only logical explanation—you know that you haven’t spoken of it to a soul. this man knew, and killed him for it? was he related to toji’s wife, here for revenge? where did kento fit into this—is it really all about you?

you can hardly hear yourself respond over your heartbeat echoing in your ears, pumping your blood in a rush. “i..i dunno!! because i slept with him!?” 

“ding ding ding! i knew you were a smart girl. but you do know that makes you a little slut, right? do you know that means you killed him, sugar!” he hisses the last part, as if personally hurt by the notion. 

“i..it was wrong–yes–but i..i–” you try to explain, but realize the stranger has no reason to allow it. he’s here to punish you, and you have to either accept this lying down, or try to put up some kind of fight. 

“is that two wrong answers? you’ll sentence your best friends to death over your pride, slut? how disappointing.” 

“no, no–i am!” you clench your eyes shut, finding it easy to beg for their lives. if this caller was to be believed, then you already knew he wasn’t bluffing. 

“you’re what? hmmm y/n?” his voice gets louder, like he’s closer to the device. 

“i’m a…slut!” your cheeks burn, you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you wait for the stranger to reply. “please sir.” 

“last question–speed round. what door am i at? your front door…or your porch?” 

thoughts stop and instinct takes over, causing you to drop the phone and run to your porch–a sliding glass door with flimsy locks. you turn on all the lights, hoping to ward off whatever evil lurked in the night hunting you. you click all the locks in place, sprinting now towards your front door, which stood open already. 

“no..” you say aloud, voice a broken whisper of realization. he was already in your house. maybe he had been the whole time, you don’t know anything anymore. all you can think about was suguru’s arrival—hoping you could last for a few minutes longer. you spin around, deciding to venture back the way you came. it was already cleared, he couldn’t have slipped behind—a gloved hand covers your mouth—leather thick enough to smother, and you throw your elbow back as hard as you can, stunning the captor into letting your face go. with a hurried gasp, you’re sprinting for your life. you run to your porch door, grappling with the lock that you just secured. you keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for the figure to reemerge, shaking the lock with all your might. you hear the footsteps, looking over your shoulder to see a tall monstrosity—cloaked in ghostface’s attire. you scream out and throw the door open. shutting it on him before he had the chance to grab you again. 

your heart is racing and you aren’t sure where to go next, attempting to clear your fence to get to the main yard of your house, maybe you could get to suguru first. the killer is faster though, both in mind and in body. he grabs your ankle before you can get all the way over, yanking you back to his domain. you scream for help, but there’s no one around to hear you. 

“my boyfriend—he’s scary, please mister!” you fight, kicking and thrashing to get all the openings to escape that you could. “let me go!” you throw your legs, connecting with his stomach. he reflexively clutched it in pain, giving you a window to scramble back to your feet and back into your house through the porch door you escaped from. locking it would be a waste, you just start throwing down whatever you could get your hands on to make an obstacle course for the masked man. you assume the cheap costume doesn’t have the best visibility, and you hope to use that to your advantage. 

you sprint for the front door, hearing the grunting and frustrated groans of the man chasing you. you blink through your panicked tears, grasping at straws for what to do next. it’s then that you hear the gravel of your driveway crunch under what could only be tires—and who could only be suguru. you shove your couch in between you and the killer, flailing yourself down your front steps and into the yard, sobbing and out of breath, scrapes and scratches showing the evidence of the chase. 

suguru is out of his car in an instant, by your side even quicker. he seems to put two and two together at the sight of you, running into the house just in time to see the ghostface impersonator sneak out of your living room window, fading into the distance. you can’t let suguru go very far, terrified beyond measure as you glue to his side and cry into his shirt once he assures you the scary man is gone. 

he holds your face, trying to soothe you the best way he knows how. “shh, shh, let’s call the sheriff, alright? this has to be reported.” he insists, holding you to his chest as he picks up your phone to call the police to your home, your kitchen and living room a mess of the night that would undoubtedly scar you for life. you nod, burying your face in his comforting scent. “just tell them what happened, and make sure you tell them everything.” he encourages, petting your hair as you wait for them to arrive.

your heart sinks at the prospect of revealing your secrets to the police. surely they don’t need to know every word exchanged on the phone. you can communicate the gist. you rehearse in your head what to say—but nothing prepared you for sheriff zen’in putting suguru in cuffs and shoving him in the back of a squad car. 

you protest, proclaiming his innocence–but the sheriff says if he’s truly done nothing wrong, then he can answer a few of their questions down at the station. you ride in a car too, like a passenger instead of a prisoner, to report what happened in detail that night. you can hardly get through an account of it—too nervous about suguru’s interview. he didn’t even wait for a lawyer, and had already used his phone call. deputy choso finally lets you go once it’s apparent you’re too shaken up to give them anymore than your scrambled memory, about being home and talking to suguru and then a very…summarized version of your call with the killer—and of course your run from him. 

you’re relieved when a just-rolled-out-of-bed satoru throws the station doors open, face stern as he scans for you. his features soften when they land on yours, and he’s pulling you into his arms before you’ve even really processed that he’s here. suguru must have used his call on him, to make sure you were taken care of in the event they want to hold him overnight—you’re touched. 

“y/n, what happened?! suguru said—a ghostface broke into your house?? are you alright, are you hurt—what are they talking to him for?” he asks, cradling your head on his chest after gawking at your bandaged ankle. you shake your head on him, just wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“i dunno, the guy chased me, satoru—i thought i was going to die!! suguru got there just in time, he saved me, and they’re treating him like he’s a criminal! get him out of there—call your dad or something this is bullshit!” you heave, panicky breaths shaking out over his shirt. 

he rubs your back, finding suguru’s eyes through the blinds over sheriff zen’in’s window. he takes a steadying breath, clearly trying to set an example for you to follow. “it’s gonna be okay, c’mon, you believe in your ole pal satoru, right?” he leans back, hands on your shoulders to give you a reassuring look. his nod gives you the faith to do the same, leaning back into his chest for that feeling of safety that seems so fleeting these days. 

satoru goes back and forth with the deputy about holding suguru overnight, threatening the mayor’s intervention. but deputy choso calls his bluff, rolling his eyes in clear aggravation. 

“even the mayor’s asleep right now, kid. unless daddy’ll come running at three a.m, geto’s spending the night.” 

“we have classes tomorrow you dipshit. y/n was literally expecting him—what can you even be holding him on?” satoru bucks, arching his brow. it’s rare that he gets serious, but when he does he comes correctly. 

“reasonable suspicion.” choso shrugs, leaning back in his desk chair. “doesn’t suguru know how to clone phone numbers? i seem to remember some trouble the two of you got in for prank calling.” 

“in eighth grade?” gojo scoffs, grabbing your hand roughly. you know it’s just because he’s wound up about the situation at hand. first your attack, then they cage suguru up like an animal, and now he’s dealing with dumbass deputy dewey. “prank calling to psycho murderer, huh? i suppose that is the only logical fuckin step!” he shakes his head in disbelief, dragging you from the station. “let’s go, sugar. time to get you back to bed—”

ice floods your veins. “what did you just call me?” you pull back out of his grip, looking at him with wide eyes. satoru’s face falters as he searches over yours, paused mid-speech. 

“what, sugar? i’ve called you that for years, y/n!” he rolls his eyes, sighing. “so paranoid, goodness. c’mon.” he pats your lower back, urging you into a steady stride alongside him. “let’s go to my place. wouldn’t want there to be a second strike or anything.” 

you still stare at him with that quiet unease, brain racing through your conversation with ghostface. “h-he called me that, too.” you mutter, stumbling over your own feet every few steps. satoru slips his arm around your waist to keep you close and to keep you from falling. 

“well, i didn’t exactly coin the nickname, i must admit.” he forcibly chuckled. “babe, please.” he rolls his eyes at your steady disbelief. “if i wanted to kill ya, do you not think i could pretty easily? i mean, my dad’s the mayor and you have no family. clearly, i only have your best interest at heart, y/n.” he raises his brow, and as blunt as his statement may be, it is effective. satoru’s strong enough to crush you in one hand, if he wanted to. plus they’d be the only ones that missed you if you were gone.  “i’ll…try not to call you that anymore.” he adds on the end, squeezing your hip in an effort to give you some peace of mind. 

you nod softly, processing. he’s always been sort of crude and a little brutal in his manner of speaking, always followed up by triumphant giggles at his own jokes. it’s his way of protecting you, of playing good cop and bad cop all at once, and over time you’ve gotten used to his bluntness. he was right anyhow, you shouldn’t doubt the only protection you have in times like these. plus, his offer of safety was too good to pass up. 

so you let gojo bring you to his huge estate, not affiliated with the mayor’s property downtown, no, this was just for satoru alone. it was expansive but still held onto that homestyle feeling. his bedroom was cozy, warm and safe like his arms around you, protecting you through the last few hours of the night.

news of your attack had spread like a forest fire around campus by the following morning. of course everyone’s in your face, all swarming around you in hopes they could get any bits of information—did the ghostface mention nanami? how did you escape? why was suguru still at the station if he rescued you? 

luckily satoru is there to serve as the buffer between you and the crowd, your other friends close in quickly as well, shoving and cussing until the path cleared and the rules to leave you be were instilled. you weren’t even sure how you were up and walking right now. you were exhausted between the chase and your collective two hours of sleep. your worry was weighing you down, the haunting anxiety of being attacked again, of causing more of your friends to be killed due to your wrong answers, of getting suguru into serious trouble just because this town wanted someone to blame for this. you felt like you’ve had too many iced coffees, body wired and fidgeting as you try to avoid all the lingering stares by making your way to the bathroom to hide for a bit—just long enough to let everyone settle into classes, so you can peacefully get to yours. 

you hear a couple of girls chit-chatting between the stalls, a voice you recognize saying your name followed by a near audible eye-roll. you quickly tuck yourself into a stall so they don’t see you when they come out, heart racing now that you seem to be the topic of conversation. 

“i bet she’s making it all up. i mean—a ghostface costume? really? that movie came out thirteen years ago! i mean if we’re getting in the halloween spirit, why not jigsaw?” she snickers, the metal door to the stall clanging open to signify that they’ve left—the water running at the sinks. 

“mei mei! that’s awful, why do you hate her so much?” the other girl teases, grabbing some paper towels. you bite your lip in wait, insulted beyond belief that she could think you were that big of an attention whore. 

“because gojo and geto follow that girl around like she has some kind of…spell on them! i wouldn’t be surprised if she killed dr. fushiguro. she was in his class last year—and he seemed to pick on her a lot. maybe he was some…witchy sacrifice to make the two hottest guys at this school fall in love with her! nanami was this years!” she reveals as if she’s solved the crimes herself, simply from being so self-aware. 

“that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, skank!” her friend dismisses with laughter, their voices fading as the bathroom door squeals shut, telling you they’ve left for good. you lean against the door of your stall for a moment, raking your hands over your face to cope with the cold sweat coating your skin and the disbelief gripping your heart. you fidget with the lock, stumbling out to the sinks for something to bring you back to life. you turn the faucet on, thinking some cold water would do the trick. it helps you perk up a bit even when it just hits your hands. before you can cup any and splash your face, a chill creeps up your spine—you’re being watched. 

you bend over, looking under the doors of each stall to make sure there weren’t any feet lurking behind the doors waiting to attack you. you don’t see anything, puffing out your cheeks as you exhale and right your posture. you make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. you have to snap out of this, you tell yourself, raking your hands over your face, tugging at your eyes and rubbing your cheeks in an effort to remind yourself of reality. 

“y/nnnn.” the distorted voice echoes in your mind, making you gasp and spin around to look at the stalls, look all over the bathroom, nearly flattening your chest to the floor to look under the stalls again. again, nothing. your brain is playing tricks on you. you’ve officially lost it. what was the likelihood of being attacked in your campus bathroom anyway—especially since he started at your house? you take a deep breath and gather your backpack up, hearing the clanking metal sound of one of the stall locks. “don’t ignore me, y/n.” 

you squat down, there had to be someone there this time. you knew paranoia could only go so far, that voice sending your heart into a fearful spiral. 

boots descend from the toilet, planting firmly on the ground. you start to breathe heavily, a jagged black cloak lowered to tell you that you were indeed being targeted by a ghostface impersonator, and you scream. he lunges out of the stall—a huge hunting knife clasped in both hands over his head as you duck, limboing under his attack and making for the door. 

“help me!!” you scream frantically, voice so shrill it hurts your throat. you feel the heat of his body against your back, so you fling your head backwards into his chest—surprising him enough to falter. you fling the door open, making that connect too, scrambling for any extra time and space you could get. your vision is blurred by the nervous tears that spring automatically, searching for an exit or someone to help. you see a few guys standing together at the end of the hall—one of which has stark white hair that you could recognize from worlds away. “satoru!! he’s here, help!!” 

the frantic desperation in your voice grabs all of their attention, satoru and naoya zen’in—grandson of the sheriff–sprint closer to figure out what’s going on. they see the masked man stalking after you, but you can only keep running for your life. your legs nearly give out as you make it to satoru, collapsing in his arms. his eyes are wide as he pushes you back behind him, turning to deal with the intruder—but the zen’in beats him to it. he tackles the figure, managing to wrestle the knife away even before the ghostface rolled them to win the struggle, punching naoya hard enough that his head bounced off the floor. you gasp–shoving satoru forward. 

“help him!!” you panic, not able to stomach the thought of someone else dying over you. satoru barrels forward and roughly pulls the ghostface off, turning to naoya to ensure he was still alive while the masked figure tumbles to the ground with a grunt. you’re paralyzed with terror as one of the other boys, a freshman named ijichi, checks on you, grabbing your attention with his shaky voice.

“y/n, are you alright? goodness.” he pats your shoulder, and you nod–turning back to the commotion. you catch the sight of the cloak slipping down the stairs, screaming out for gojo to warn him. he quickly moves to follow—but finds no trace of the man. he turns back to you with a shake of his head. he was gone. 

satoru moves to pull you to your feet, holding you securely to his chest as yaga and a host of other teachers bustle through the hallways looking frantic. 

“he came to this school. that is it!” yaga shakes his head, surveying your crying and terrified form. “classes are canceled until further notice!” he declares, instructing for the cops to be called immediately–and to bring a paramedic for the student injured in your defense. you feel so guilty when you look over at the zen’in boy holding his eye, wincing. he had no business with you and didn’t have to get involved at all, but he likely saved your life!

you sniffle, gently pushing yourself off of gojo with a weak smile. you give him a grateful look, nodding to him in a way that communicated your need to accomplish something. “i’m okay.” 

he nods a little, letting his hand fall off of your elbow. he watches you slouch over to naoya as he shoves himself into a seated position. you crouch to his level, giving him a gentle but still anxious smile. 

“hey..does it hurt pretty bad?” you ask, sympathetically frowning at the shiner. he scoffs a little at your question. you sure are lucky you’re stunning–and that he has a reputation to uphold. 

“yeah? it’s a massive bruise. i’ll live though.” he shrugs, brushing his hair out of the way. 

“well…thank you. for doing that, you could have been hurt worse.” you nod, standing. you reach your hand out to help him to his feet. he smiles, and takes your hold despite his usual pride, he’s able to capitalize on some arrogance. 

“i had it under control, don’t worry about it. what kind of man would i be if i didn’t step in?” he smirks, and the little look makes you blush. maybe you had a soft spot for the zen’in families good looks. 

“i see, well. thank you anyway.” you hum, turning back to satoru. “i guess we’re free to go home, huh? classes are canceled…” you scratch at the back of your neck anxiously, hoping satoru would let you attach like a little lost puppy in order to stay within the realms of safety. 

he rubs at your shoulders, wiggling his brows a little. “mhm, way to go, princess. you got us outta school!” he cheers, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i say, party at my house!! everyone’s invited!” he yells out into the emptying hallway, the announcement of canceled classes causing the majority of your peers to spill into the schoolyard, escaping before the headmaster changes his mind. 

the idea of a party right now made you nauseous. anyone of these people could be the ghostface poser or his next victim. you wish you could just hole up in your house,  but being alone was hardly an option for you right now. satoru keeps a hand on your back to guide you out of the civics hall, assuring you that a party is exactly what you need to get your mind off of things. 

“there’s no way i’d leave your side anyway! plus the girls are gonna be there, and—look who the cat dragged in!” his long finger turns your head in the direction he was looking, and your eyes widen at the sight of suguru waiting against the group’s usual tree. relief floods your system. at least suguru was free, clearly they couldn’t pin this on him like they wanted. 

he strolls over to fall in line on your other side, giving you a sly smile. “hey angel. shoko told me what went down, and i am now on your side. that sheriff doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.” he sighs out as he loops his arm around your shoulders. you give him a proper hug, letting him pick you up slightly to keep walking to satrou’s place. it was a normal happenstance, the two of them loved passing you between them like a toy football they tossed back and forth, this time it was suguru who lifts you from the ground. you wrap your legs around his thighs with a giggle—feeling a bit of lighthearted fun spring to your heart. 

“oh don’t tell me you didn’t get the honeymoon suite.” satoru mocks, reaching for your upper half to pull you into his hold, to which you and suguru insist in passing you over. it’s all part of the games they like to play with you. 

you roll your eyes. “we tried to get you out, well—sato did. that deputy was a big ole meanie about it.” you huff, being carried like a baby in gojo’s arms. he nods, pouting down at you. 

“totally. was gonna get dad on it and everything! but hey—this party will be epic, the girls are getting some snacks, we’re on beer duty!” he cheers happily, gently tossing you up into the air. you freely giggle, falling back into his protective hold. he passes you to suguru, who slings you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. you playfully kick and giggle and that sweet sound prompts satoru into comment. “she’s always so happy with us, huh sugu?” 

he pats above your back, nodding. “of course. you’re our girl, right?” he hums, giving satoru a knowing smirk. you squeal a little and nod. 

“mhm, i just feel so…safe with you two!” you sigh, relaxing across his shoulder. he finally lowers you to your own two feet once it’s time to walk into the general store with that one boozy cashier that would let geto have whatever he wanted from that store—including his weight in beer probably two times the legal purchase amount. you stroll around the aisles with them, satoru urging you to pick your own snacks over whatever gross shit iori and ieiri brought over. 

for once, all seems to be well. you settle into a couch at satoru’s place, letting the boys fight over where they sat, deciding they’d just let you lay across them both. so your new couch becomes satoru and suguru, but they’re just as comfortable. shoko and utahime laugh at the sight when they come in, a few more stragglers that heard satoru’s invite making their way in for the free booze. 

shoko of course came with her bag stuffed with horror classic dvds, starting with the obvious scream given her recent comments, and you roll your eyes and groan at the selection. suguru pets your hair back at your reaction, chuckling down at you. 

“what, not a horror fan?” he raises a brow, the idea making gojo titter. 

“probably not enough lady killers for our princess’ liking.” he elbows geto playfully, squeezing your thigh with his other hand. “or too many bimbos. which is it?” he asks expectantly, blowing some hair out his eyes. 

you shrug. “what does sidney say, something about how insulting it is that all the girls are so dumb? always running upstairs when they should be going out a door on ground level. it’s annoying. and yeah—more girl killers!” you giggle back, finally settling into a decent spirit now that you knew you were safe with your friends. 

“totally!! carrie’s like all we have!” utahime complains from the floor. 

“well—all the victims have been dudes so far. maybe we have a lady ghostface out there.” satoru raises his beer to clink it with utahime’s. she’s already tipsy enough to toast gojo, so you know this night will be eventful, though you can’t help your unease at his statement. you felt like it was important to only pass around the proper information in regards to something like this, even though satoru’s only joking innocently. 

“it’s not a woman. he’s too tall.” you mumble, reminding your friends in the room that you’ve suffered at the hands of this killer not once, but twice. your friends shift around awkwardly at the realization that they’ve gone a little too far. 

satoru pats your thigh. “hey, y/n—” you assume he was going to apologize, but he’s cut off by the phone. your heart plunges. no, this can’t be happening. not here, not in the safety of satoru’s home–with all of your friends gathered around. your gasp makes a few heads turn to you, and satoru’s face falls at your jumpiness. “hey, it’s alright. probably just my folks. don’t worry. shoko—answer it?” 

she nods, though you can tell she’s a little nervous too. she puts the phone to her ear and hums–seemingly recognizing the voice on the other end. the room all takes a collective breath of relief, but that doesn’t last very long. shoko clamps her hand over her mouth as she gasps, turning to you all to repeat what she was just told. 

“it’s the sheriff’s grandson—naoya. they found him strung up the flagpole—gutted like nanami!” she whisper yells, sparking the intrigue of most of the mildly intoxicated young adults in the room. she nods a few more times with whoever’s on the other line, shaking her head at the grotesque crime until they hang up. 

“well—what are we waiting for, let’s go check it out before they pull him down!” some freshman suggests, getting whoops and hollers from the other nameless faces as the pile out of the room, shoko leading the charge. you’re gripped with fear. this is the last straw. there’s no room to deny it anymore. the only common thread is you. when would this man get gojo? get geto? get ieiri and iori—you? would you have to watch all your friends die in front of you before he finally got you? naoya was not a nice guy, he had wronged plenty of people and was toji’s cousin—but he had saved you that day. and been punished for it.

“i need to go lie down.” you declare, sitting up on the only two men you could trust these days—which only made you fear for their safety that much more. suguru looks up at you wistfully, seeming to understand. gojo pouts, but nods his head towards his room. 

“we’ll know where to find ya, sweet cheeks.” he assured, helping you slide off of their laps. you smile and nod at him gratefully, breaking out in that nervous cold sweat you were prone to as you creep up the steps towards satoru’s room. your heart thunders in your chest, so loud in your own ears you think it may be audible to everyone else. suguru ‘awwws’ as you walk off and utahime blows you a kiss, stretched out in the recliner. she’s invested in the movie—totally into billy loomis, naturally. 

you wish you could be so naive to spend your night crushing on the killer in an old horror film, but your mind is too preoccupied with the one you’re living. some comfort soothes at your heart as you enter satoru’s large personal space. it smells of his soothing sweet scent, and you melt right into his bed, looking up at the rotations of the ceiling fan. you aren’t sure how long you stare up at it, wondering what entertainment your classmates were getting out of seeing naoya’s dead body. it makes you shudder to think about it, you wish that this was some sort of nightmare. at least those weren’t real. but that can’t be, because you feel yourself fall into some kind of satoru’s scent-induced slumber. 

“you know, it is pretty spooky how similar these past few deaths have been to the movie.” utahime scrunches her nose as she looks around the remaining friends. gojo nods, lips turned down in a pondering frown. 

“yeah–like the disembowelment? totally creepy. awww i’m all out of beer. utahimeeeee?” he coos, shaking his bottle at her. she jiggles hers and rolls her eyes at the emptiness. she shoves out of her comfy spot on the recliner. 

“you’re lucky mine’s empty, you bastard.” she chuckles, shaking her head and making her way out to the garage. 

“let suguru beer-sit for me when you get back, i’m gonna go check on the princess!” he yells after her, using his own thighs to propel himself into a stand. he turns to suguru, brows raised. “she’s been so skittish lately. i’ll be right back.” 

suguru takes a swallow of his room-temp beer, making a face at the taste. he finds himself alone with the movie, no choice but to watch the corny film that the current killings seem styled after—at least in costuming. he sighs. 

some time must have passed by the time you blink awake. you think it’s the trees rustling in the october wind that rips you out of your brief reprieve, or maybe it’s the uncomfortable silence and stillness to gojo’s house. either way, you’re yawning—stretching out on your stomach as you remember what caused you to isolate yourself from the rest of the party in the first place. you close your eyes as if that will stop the thoughts in their tracks, but it’s no use. 

the scraping up the trellis outside of satoru’s room does plenty to wipe your mind, followed by what could only be the sound of the window being opened from the outside. you push yourself up, ready to flee the bed, but his voice stops you as if he had puppeteer strings controlling your limbs. the distortion is familiar, just like it was on the phone that day. 

“don’t move you little bitch, i’ll slice you to ribbons!” he cheers, boots scuffing against the floor. you’re holding your breath, still laying on your stomach, head faced away from the killer. 

“wh–what do you want from me?” you gulp, clenching your jaw as his weight sinks into the bed. your hands grip satoru’s pillow as the ghostface touches your back, hand resting in between your shoulder blades. he trails one finger along your spine, stopping at the curve of your ass. 

“ya mean you haven’t figured it out?” he slides his hand under your skirt, curling his finger in the waistline of your panties, pulling them out and letting them snap back against your skin. “i want that pretty pussy in exchange for another day on this spinning rock!” 

you shiver, fear creeping up your veins. you feel something sharper than a finger against your back—unmistakably the point of his hunting knife. your body straightens and you gasp, his gloved hand palming at your ass. while the blade keeps you in place. 

“p-please, mr. ghostface, i–i dunno what this is all about!” you breathe heavily, feeling a tingling warmth bubble in your abdomen at his touch—fear had to be crossing the wires in your brain. he uses one hand to shove up your skirt, slapping the skin, the leather covering his hand only intensifying the feeling. you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensation–shaking your head in surprise with yourself. 

“i just told ya, sugar. open up those ears and those legs. you’re gonna let me fuck you dumb if you ever wanna see outside this room again, be the good little slut i know you can be.” he pops your ass again, causing you to make a strangled sound of enjoyment. your cheeks burn, you can’t be enjoying this, the stranger that’s been terrorizing your life for the past few months—even possibly the man that killed your lover a year ago—should be the last person on the planet that causes your pussy to clamp around nothing. 

you obey, spreading your legs wide enough for him to shift between. he repositions himself there on his knees, hooking his arm around to press the long blade across your delicate neck as he pulls your hips up slightly. you gasp at the sharp weapon pressed to your jugular, careful not to move or you’d slit your own throat. he giggles, using his free hand to leave the outline of his hand on your ass. your heart thrashes, blood pumping in your ears as a disgusting need burns viciously in your gut. 

“that’s a good start, see. you can do it.” he kneads your ass approvingly, big hands gripping the skin so tenderly you whine out, biting your lip immediately after. his laugh is taunting, and makes the anticipation shoot up like sparklers. you’re ashamed. this is a dangerous and scary murderer, and he’s in here fucking you, you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little special—as he’s only targeting males. “ohhh you’re an even bigger skank than i thought, wow. you like it!” he licks his teeth audibly, hooking a finger around the crotch of your panties, yanking off the soiled fabric. he delights in damp juices covering his fingers as he tucks the soiled undies in the back pocket of his jeans beneath the robe. “you’ll fuck anyone won’t ya?” 

you move to shake your head, feeling blade bite into the flesh beneath. you open your mouth in your defense, silenced by the feeling of his bare fingers playing around in the mess holding you at knifepoint has created. “no! that’s not true!” 

he slaps your ass, sighing. “yeah? why’d you give this pretty little cunt to your married professor then? eager? desperate? did he make ya feel special?” he inquires, making your pussy grip again. the possessive lengths this murderer went through clearly spoke to your pussy if not your heart or your brain. you feel the man move around, freeing his cock if you had to guess. you ask yourself why you did fuck toji, and you decide to tell the truth. with the way things were going, he’d know if you were lying anyway. 

“because i was horny and he was hot and there—and i…i guess i did feel special, he picked me.” you reply, earning a growl in return. the smack on your ass has you screaming this time, the force of it causing you to brush up against the knife a little, feeling the first layer of skin give way. 

“wrong answer.” he gruffs, not as jovial sounding as before. you know what comes next. you briefly wonder what he’ll feel like, how curved or thick he’d be, and if he’d actually let you live after he’s done. he answers most of your questions rather quickly, feeling like lightning had struck you and split you open—you realize he’s shoved himself all the way in while you’re still laying on your stomach. you sputter out gargled sounds from suddenly being so full, balling up your fists in satoru’s pillow. maybe it was his scent wafting in your nose that made you horny instead of the masked man plowing your insides, holding your ass cheek apart with one hand in order to reach top speed. “little slut likes getting ruined by a psycho, huh? maybe i will keep you around after all, gripping my cock like you love it.” he giggles, laying all his body weight into the thrusts. 

you’re mewling, gripping satoru’s pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. the ghostface was hitting every spot so rapidly and with so much force that you’re seeing stars. it takes everything in you not to slump forward—only the threat of imminent death keeping you awake enough. 

“you keep grippin it, lil slut. dont wanna let me go?” he chuckles at the way you keep lifting up to escape the blade. “cute slut though!! and a good one. gonna give you my load for being so obedient—i guess you didn’t have much choice though!” he laughs and pulls the knife from your neck, sickening slaps of his hips into your ass sound out across the room, growing slower in pace until he stills altogether, seed flooding your insides–his tip pressing it directly to your womb. his breaths are slightly ragged as he presses your ass back together, trapping his cum tight as he pulls out of you, humming at the sight of his slimy seed sliding out of your hole and pearling up on your pretty thighs. you heard his zipper at the same time you heard a knock at the door, a voice you recognize all too well kicking the panic up again. 

“y/n? i heard screaming, are you okay?” suguru asks, jiggling the handle. “everyone’s gone and i just want to make sure you’re alright. i’m coming in.” 

you shake your head, turning to scream out a warning, but the ghostface clamps a hand over your mouth. suguru pushes the door open— furrowing his brows at the sight, immediately rushing forward to intervene. he grunts his displeasure, snatching your hand to yank you away from the figure. 

“run y/n!” he commands, trying to shove the man away from you. you slide off the bed frantically, trying to get geto to run away with you as he and the ghostface struggle for dominance over the knife. he turns his head to look at you still standing in the room. “go, now!” he calls out, the sound of the blade making contact with his skin making the color drain from your face. his eyes widen as he looks down at the knife in his chest—while the masked murderer cackles wildly before he grabs the wooden handle. geto looks back up at you, eyes growing more and more lidded.

“yet another friend you’ve killed, little skank!” he cheers, yanking the knife out with a harrowing schlick before embedding it in him again for good measure—his form falling to the ground. the sound of geto’s body collapsing was enough to send you scrambling down the stairs in search of the only other person who could help you get away. your legs move faster than you’ve ever seen them go before, taking two steps at a time as you bound for the door. 

you hear the stomps of ghostface’s boots coming after you. you shudder out your cries of anguish, trying to figure out a way to put some space between you and him—not wanting to put any merit in his promise to keep you alive. you jump over the couch, slinging the tv down and once again throwing any and all obstacles in your path. it seemed to work well enough the first time you tried it, and based off of his hiss and a subsequent thump, you know you tripped him up a little bit. you sprint towards the garage, flipping on the light and pressing the switch to raise the door—screaming in horror at what the lights reveal. 

iori utahime was nearly unrecognizable, her head smashed in the refrigerator with a broken beer bottle sticking out of her chest. hot tears spring out of your eyes instantly—muttering your apologies as you dip under the opening the garage door gives you, full sprinting like your life depends on it. you’ve made it to an open field—somewhere you once felt safe now making you feel like a deer waiting to be pounced on. you keep your head on a swivel, trying to locate the black mass in the night—but it was virtually impossible. 

when he comes out of your peripheral—running at you from your right side, you see him in enough time to slide under his attempt to bear hug you, turning an about face towards the house. maybe you could make it back there, make it back to geto’s body—if you could just lock the doors and windows, you should be home free. satoru was still around–luckily you didn’t find his body. you struggle to get oxygen into your system through the chilly night air—feeling it squeeze at your lungs as you desperately fight to get back to some idea of safety, running in bursts and patterns to keep the masked man guessing and confused through the tiny holes in the mask. tears still sting at your eyes as you throw yourself up the steps, making it to the door which you deadbolt instantly. you sweep the house, making sure the other doors were locked before coming back to the front—hearing the beating of the ghostface rap against the door. 

“don’t lock me out sugar! we had such a good time!” he appeals, using the weighty knife handle to beat on the door some more. you grip the sides of your hair, out of breath and full blown panicking. if satoru wasn’t in the house, then you’ve locked him out, and who knows if suguru was clinging to life upstairs. noise behind you makes you wheel around to confront it—terrified that the ghostface snuck in through a window like he had earlier. 

instead, a heavily injured and bloody suguru limps out of gojo’s room, gasping out your name as he tumbles down the stairs, falling all the way to your feet. you cry out and crouch to him, face contorted up with concern and horror. he motions to stand, asking you to help him do so. 

“suguru! he’s outside–oh my god, are we going to die? where’s satoru? i need him to be safe too! we have to call the police—” you prattle on, doing your best to help lift his weight. he groans in pain, helping you to the best of his ability as you get him propped up against the wall. he keeps you from pulling away, holding your hand in both of his. 

“we’re going to be alright, angel. i’ll call the cops.” he assured, stumbling forward—toward the door. he nods to help you calm down, a bloody hand cupping your face to have you look him in his gentle eyes. “i’m going to get us out of here.” 

“don’t!! he’s gonna break it down or something—stand back, suguru! i’m scared!” you warn him as he looks out the peephole, shaking your head frantically. 

“you should be.” he says, leaning against the front door, giving you a cunning smile. gentle brown eyes shift into something much more sinister—though the lust that always swims in them remains. his words rock you off kilter—you’re sure you must be so paranoid that you’re making things up now. 

“wh-what?” you shake your head, furrowing your brows a bit as he lifts a bloody finger to his mouth, sucking the red digit clean with repeated swirls of his thick tongue—and making you step backward as the shock wears off. he was involved. you don’t understand how or why—but your best friend suguru geto was involved. 

“shame you don’t like horror movies, y/n. maybe if you had seen scream, you’d have known what to expect. high fructose corn syrup—just like in carrie.” he hums, trailing his tongue along his hand. you shake your head, steadily backing away from him. he wasn’t hurt at all—just theatrics to get you right where he wanted you. which means satoru—

“n-no…this is impossible. you…you came to my house!” you argue, trying to find a way for it to not be true. you back straight into another hard chest—and the figure dangles your panties over your face. your veins are frozen as you turn slowly—faced with the missing satoru. he’s beaming, wiggling the fabric in his hands. 

“surprise! look what we did for you, princess!” he cheers, stepping forward to make you back up—pushing you back into suguru with every calculated step. you blink rapidly, processing all that’s before your eyes. satoru and suguru? they were working as a team this whole time? a murderous, manipulative team?

“for me? what on earth are you talking about??” you shake your head incredulously, wondering how they’ve cloaked their insanity this whole time. “i–i never wanted this!” you begin to sniffle, the tears of realization starting the burn your eyes. 

“no? you know how we feel about boys around our princess.” satoru hummed, shaking his head. 

“after all of our years of devotion to you,” suguru shakes his head, stepping in front of you as well, leaning down to capture your vision. you avoid his eyes, too busy dealing with your racing thoughts. “you reward us by giving your virginity to a married man. what were we supposed to do about that angel?” 

“how–how did you find out–”

“you’re so loud in his office, pretty girl. we know what you sound like all too well—and you had been missing a lot that semester…we put two and two and two together!” he says shrilly, devoid of the costume though the large hunting knife was still in hand. 

“i…i didn’t ever get any attention from boys!!” you start to cry, the full weight of their words taking hold on you. everything was your fault after all, those haunting feelings were all true—and your best friends were the ones behind the whole scheme. 

“why would you need any other attention?? are we not more than enough?” he snarls, deeply wounded that you gave your body away after he’s spent so much of his time catering to it. 

you sniffle, recoiling away at his tone. geto was always so gentle and calm, but it seems like he’s finally snapped. you never thought they had any romantic intent with all their safe-guards, assuming they viewed you more like a tiny kitten that needed their protection. but it all makes sense now, their abnormal need to spend their time with you, the cuddling, the touching, even the carrying game—you were sure now that it was all about their feelings for you. geto grabs your face in one broad hand, jerking your chin up to look at him. 

“you’ll look at me when i’m speaking to you. answer. are we not enough?” he demands, clenching his jaw so tight that you can see the muscles twitch. 

“yes! you’re enough—i just didn’t think it was like that, boys–i didn’t think you both liked me, i–i just thought you were being nice–” 

“well. there’s no more of that, slut. if we didn’t kill the other two, who knows what you would have let them do.” he snarls, squeezing your cheeks together to keep you from speaking further. satoru claps his hands, tugging you to the couch. 

“it’s time we make you our final girl, sugar. aren’t you so lucky? who else would love you like us?!” he asks you, pushing you into the cushions. he holds the knife to your shoulder, pouting. “don’t make me use this on you, pretty girl. just listen to us and we’ll go from a scary movie to a happily ever after.” he hums, sitting at your side so he could keep the blade steady. 

you’re reeling, brain light and heavy all at once. they did this…for you? all to show you their love and devotion? it’s too much. his words are sweet but his actions have been anything but. you shake your head. “utahime…what did she do to deserve that?” you snap, tears slipping down your cheeks, you feel bolstered with the confidence that they won’t hurt you. this elaborate scheme has all been to make you theirs, after all. 

geto laughs, shaking his head as he comes over to the couch, the boner in his pants so obvious your pussy clenches involuntarily. you’re lucky your skirt has you covered enough that neither of them saw it, for you’d never hear the end of it. geto strokes himself over his pants, giving satoru some kind of direction with the nod of his head. gojo shifts you to your knees, forcing your head forward to stare at suguru as he unbuttons his pants. 

“utahime was in the way.” suguru shrugs, letting his endowment slap up against his red corn syrup stained shirt. he peels that off next. 

gojo scoffs. “you don’t need friends anyway, you got us!” he cheered, repositioning his digits on the back of your neck. suguru pushes some hair over his shoulder, gesturing to his cock with a simple look down. 

you shake your head no, trying to fight against satoru’s hold, but he points the knife under your jaw, following the line of the bone. suguru chuckles darkly. 

“this whore will fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes time to fuck the men that earned it, you wanna be shy?” he shakes his head with disappointment, “you even slutted yourself out for someone you didn’t know. what’s the problem? if he holds the knife against your neck will it make you drip again?” 

the statement makes you gasp softly, the pang in your core causing you to whine in disbelief. why was this turning you on? there’s no way you should be giving in to such a crazy stunt. they’ve ruined your life, killed anyone close to or interested in you—and now they’re here to claim their due reward. and your pussy is absolutely leaking over it despite the alarms ringing in your head. the way that geto grabs a fistful of your hair to guide your face to his drooling slit has you opening your mouth to welcome him inside without any more protests, causing gojo to giggle at the sight.

“told ya she’d give in. we know her better than anyone, yeah?” he dances the knife along the side of your neck as your throat bulges with suguru’s thickness. your eyes roll back at the feeling of his fat tip hitting your uvula, keeping you from speaking anyway. 

“there we go. you’re pretty when you listen, y/n.” he hums, cock jumping in your mouth. you felt better than he could’ve  imagined—and nothing could recreate the mix of fear and taboo lust that you look at him with, tears dotting the corner of your vision as he guides your head in bobbing along his thick shaft. gojo just keeps your hair from falling in your face–eager to see all of you as you arch up on your knees, wiggling your pretty ass in the air. “nasty little thing. you’re just as bad as us, you know. you made us kill all these poor people—if only you listened to us and left boys alone.” suguru grunts, watching as satoru pushes your skirt up, trailing the tip of the knife over your ass cheek, careful not to slice as he peppers slaps to your other side. you whine at the feeling, pussy tightening at his teasing even though suguru filled your mouth to the brim. suguru slaps you—medium intensity, but coupled with satoru’s spanks and his dick forcing your throat apart—it had your vision darkening. you never stop sucking his cock though, and that’s what he was testing for. 

“let her ride it.” he rewards you with his approval, and satoru snickers happily. suguru’s hand falls to grip your neck, loving the sounds you make when struggling to breathe. the pain is so delicious, you can feel the morale in you dying the longer they toy with you—your need to be touched outweighing your fear–transcending it into trust. you know that they love you, in their own fucked up way, so they won’t kill you. your drowsy eyes shoot open when you feel the cool wooden handle of the hunting knife nudge against your clit. gojo holds it carefully by the blade—too skilled to let it cut him even with your uncalculated movements. suguru chuckles at your reactions, letting your hair go to see how you swallow him up on your own accord. you don’t falter, not even when the handle slides around your hole, teasing you into steady rolls of your hips to find it. gojo loved this—watching you grow so needy you’d settle for fucking yourself on the weapon that slayed your professor, your lab partner, your white knight, and your best friend. 

“look who’s a needy whore now. you wouldn’t ever be satisfied without us, angel.” suguru insists, watching the pleasure on your face as satoru finally lets you sink down on the handle. it’s wide, stretching you open with a slight burn—but it’s delicious friction strokes against your insides, and you were eager for anything to relieve the ache in your stomach, the way they used you but loved you mercilessly has you clamping, wetness sliding down the weapon. the guilt pushing back against the pleasure was slowly fading—losing. “oh, no, no. don’t let her cum.” suguru tsks, sliding his cock free of your mouth. you whine at the loss, rubbing at your sore jaw, feeling gojo’s hands find your waist again. he pulls you to lay in his lap, his own excitement pressing against the tight seam of his zipper. you’re careful to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him and feeling a sense of relief—even as he pressed the blade to your neck. 

“you liked this earlier, right? that’s because you’re just as fucking nasty as we are, cutie.” he snickered a little, cupping your clothed tit. suguru saddles between your legs this time, pushing your knees to your chest without pause, absolutely nothing but a feral need to claim you flashing in his eyes. he pushes your shirt up just to see all of you, “i’ve waited far too long to see these tits, angel.” he grumbles, palming at them in between squeezes from satoru’s large hands. you moan at their touches—so intense yet different and identifiable. satoru hums at the little noise, tweaking your nipple as geto parts your pussy lips. he doesn’t warn you before he sheaths himself, making you take his length all at once. your eyes widen at the feeling—so wide you don’t understand how your throat accommodated him. your back arches off the couch at the sensation, you think you can feel every vein and ridge along his length as he lets you get used to it. gojo’s enamored by the face you make, brows pinched and mouth dropped open—wide eyes flickering between them. he’s dreamed of this for so long—they would do all of this as many times as it took to have you like this now, but luckily you’re obedient. satoru cups your face with his free hand, trailing his fingers along your cheekbone in a touch reminiscent of his ghostface earlier. he’s gentler than suguru despite the blade he wields. suguru’s grip on the back of your thighs will bruise, it hurts even now—but in the type of way you want to feel forever. he’s not gentle with your pussy either, pulling his full length out, tapping your clit with his head to make you mewl. the force he uses to plow back in causes satoru to move the knife from your neck, drawing circles over your bouncing fat tits instead. 

“she’s so tight, huh? think she’ll stay like that between the two of us?” gojo giggles, looking up at the pretty faces suguru himself was making. his eyes are lazily lidded, but still serpentine and focused on the sight before him. you squeeze down on his cock, and he loves that he can’t tell if it’s from fear or your returned affection. 

“so tight, despite giving it up so freely. isn’t that right–our little slut?.” suguru mutters, watching the glint of the blade as satoru swirls it around your delicate skin. your eyes widen at his question, face burning at the fact that they knew. blaming them wouldn’t get you anywhere—it seems you had to own your mistake and hope that groveling can return you to your former glory, despite how you clench around him calling you a slut. 

you nod, “i’m sorry! i didn’t know that you two love me, i’m sorry, suguru!” you lean up a bit to appeal to him, causing satoru to knick your skin with the blade. you moan at the slight burn, beads of blood bubbling to the small cut. satoru curses at himself, though the noise you make has his eyes narrowing at yours in intrigue. you liked it, just like you liked fucking at knifepoint earlier

“you’re a dirty little bitch.” satoru chuckles, looking up at an intoxicated suguru. his eyes were nearly blacked, pupils fully dilated. he leans over, running his fat tongue along the shallow wound, humming at the few drops of your blood that he got to taste. satoru arches a brow, fascinated by the reaction. it makes him want a taste for himself—but suguru’s still hungry for more. his thick hand steadies your jaw, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. you shiver at the feeling—all the feelings. the warmth threatening to spill over at the cock splitting you in half, the slight dizziness that came from the cut—how lewd and chill-inducing suguru’s tongue felt, the intense desire behind satoru’s groping. it was all consuming, and you were losing sight of yourself relatively easily—after all, you felt your safest with them. they’d never hurt their final girl. 

“let’s see just how dirty, satoru…” he hums, never faltering with his hips as he moves his lips to your neck, licking and sucking spots into your skin almost romantically. you’re so undone that you even move your hips, circling to try to get closer to suguru, teetering on the line. 

“oh–it feels so good, suguru..” you mumble, and satoru giggles at your blissed out face, dick throbbing in his jeans. 

“i’m sure it does, pretty slut.” satoru sings to you, his normal taunting voice was layered with the sick affection he holds you in. he watches your cut pearl up with blood again, the sight so pretty to him. he’s seen plenty of blood eradicating all the threats to your happiness, but yours seemed so much better. like you were more pure than those that he’d eliminated on your behalf. he wanted to see some more—and suguru does too. satoru makes a matching cut below the accidental one, swiping his thumb over it to collect the hot crimson. you watch him, lengthening your neck to tilt your head back—eagerly following how his tongue wrapped around the slender digit to suck the tangy taste off. 

the opening you give suguru is so delicious he can’t repress his chuckle as he picks the perfect spot between your neck and shoulder. he bites down and you can feel his canines pierce the skin deep, screaming out at the painful bliss. your red blood covers their white teeth, leaking out of their pink lips. suguru looks like a vampire instead of a masked murderer with his chin dyed burgundy, satoru’s tongue darting out to collect the remnants on his own mouth before he leaned up–grabbing suguru’s jaw so he could lap up the stain, letting your blood mingle together on each other’s tongues as they wrestle together. gojo holds the knife carefully away from suguru’s head as he puts his other hand on his face, the two clearly just as into each other as they were you—a fact that was terrifying and insanely hot at the same time. you shudder—feeling your heartbeat echo through the cuts and your bite, pussy throbbing around suguru. he breaks away from satoru—yanking him back by a fistful of his white hair. 

“our little bitch thinks it’s time for her to cum.” suguru sighs, and satoru grins down at you with a mix of blood and saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth. satoru shakes his head. 

“but i haven’t even touched her!” he protests, pouting down at you. it makes you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach—but not because you were fucking two serial killers, no–because you hadn’t given one of them enough attention. 

“you did take her earlier—without permission.” suguru growled a bit and looks over your slightly bloodied chest and fucked out face. he knows exactly what will perk you back up and get satoru back in line. he releases his hold on his hair and slips out of your sopping folds, moving to slip the knife from satoru’s grasp while taking your chin in his other hand. he nods satoru to you. “prep her ass—i wonder if she ever let the professor in there. wait no…i’m sure he only fucked your ass.” he gently pulls on you, prompting you to get back to your hands and knees, facing him. he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, tilting your chin up with the blade to look at him. 

the intense knowing in his eyes makes a shudder trill down your spine—and your pussy clench. how did he know that? knowing about the affair—hearing it—was one thing. but how did they know the intimate details outside of…being there. the puzzle pieces click into place and suguru can see it in the way your eyes widen. he chuckles, nodding to confirm your fears while satoru jiggles your fat ass cheeks in his hands. he’s admiring the recoil, the leaking pussy he had to spread your ass to see—it was all such a wonderful and worthy reward for him. 

“you think we’d miss a show like that? tsk tsk.” he pouts, keeping you engaged so satoru could warm you up on the other end. “professor fushiguro didn’t want any more children? how sad.” he teases slightly, running the knife over your plush lips, watching the way your skin gives in to the metal, bouncing back up as he moves it to a new spot. satoru gathers the arousal pooling down your thighs, adding his spit to the nasty mix on his fingers. you gasp softly, feeling his digits prod around your puckered entrance. “could have made a pretty little thing like you his baby mama? hm. maybe if he’d been smarter about it, his existing son wouldn’t be fatherless. though that’s on you too—”

you whimper, shaking your head. “n–no, don’t say that!” you protest, feeling the humanity in you lash out at the statement. 

“why? hard truth? don’t worry princess—we’ll give you plenty of kids. you won’t be left wanting, poor thing.” satoru pouts with you, giving you the first finger down to the knuckle. you squeeze around it, any combativeness dying right back down as the brain fog returns. he’s slowly thrusting it, letting you rock your hips back for more, the unrelenting need in your gut yet to be satisfied under geto’s punishments. 

“and your kids will have two fathers just to keep you extra safe. can’t you see? we’re the only ones who can protect you and make you happy.” geto implores, stroking your cheeks and watching your reaction to satoru’s second finger, tucking his lip between his teeth. 

“oh she already knows that, sugu. c’mon sugar. tell him.” he encourages, defending you in his own way. he scissors his fingers in your ass, giggling at the wet squelch that accompanies his movements. “you’ll be so happy–just tell him, princess.” he appeals, your brain mushy with the feeling of their hands on you and their promises swimming around your brain. they have protected you from so much over the years, between your average bullies and boys that truly crossed the line back in high school—you know that in their own deluded way, they’re right. 

“you guys are the only ones that make me happy!! i feel so safe here–i know you won’t hurt me.” you whine, nodding. it appeals to both of their hearts–the sultry call of your voice had them eager to fill all your holes. 

“oh we’ll hurt you, slutty princess.” satoru hums, sliding his fingers out of your choking ass. he repositions you, hands fitting into the handles of your waist to right you in his lap, angling his proud length at your hole. “see, this will hurt a bunch! but you’ll love it.” he assures, pulling you down on him a few inches at a time. you scream out, looking up at geto for rescue. he only steps in front of you–fisting his own cock in the angle he needs it. your eyes widen when you realize that they plan to fuck you at the same time—and they don’t have the decency to let you get accustomed to one before giving you the other. 

gojo hisses, your ass was still so tight despite all his hard work, though the amounts of spit and your own slick he slathered around were making it easy to sink into you. as soon as you hit the hilt of his dick—absolutely shaking from the pressure in your ass, suguru’s nudging your pussy lips apart to bully you some more. 

“you can take us both—you’re a slut, remember? you can do it for us.” suguru reminds you tenderly, holding your face as they get used to the feeling of you and each other through the thin wall of tissue that keeps them apart. you sputter, grabbing onto suguru’s shoulders in an effort to not fall over. satoru uses his hold on your waist to propel you to move, making geto’s work minimal. the pace he sets is brutal, picking you up and slamming you back down while suguru just rocks his hips to add to the sensation of two cocks fucking you open. 

if you thought either of them were big and splitting earlier, then this was what you got in return. white hot pain and pleasure courses through your veins, replacing the fear and unease that has been haunting you for days. they were taking care of you, and if you didn’t have to fear their wrath—why wouldn’t you squeeze their cocks, scream for them, and make them feel just as loved?

this is what they deserve, what their hard work has earned them: your silken walls being beaten into the shapes of their dicks and nothing else—your tits and ass bouncing with the impact of their brutal thrusts sending you back and forth like a tug of war. 

“it’s too much!” you cry out, feeling the heat in your stomach burn as bright as a star–you felt like you were on fire. pleasure tingled up your veins, the gummy spots of your cunt being abused perfectly by suguru’s thick cock—your insides being rearranged by gojo’s unrelenting brutality, despite his sweeter speech. 

“d’awh, no it’s not. look at you—you’re doing it.” he encourages, putting his lips to your neck. “you’re takin’ it so good.” 

“squeezing us even. stop lying–you want even more.” suguru huffs, grabbing your throat. you sputter a little, erotic moans turning higher in pitch. he chuckles at his prediction—cock twitching in your walls. 

“toomuchtoomuch—need to cum, please, please boys—wanna cum all over you!” you plead for yourself, though it’s not exactly a performance. they were fucking you mindless, and at this point you would do whatever it took to have them—even lying to the police about what happened here tonight. 

“aw sugu, listen to her. i wanna see it, let her cum.” satoru adds on your behalf, balancing his chin on your shoulder. he bats those crystal blues at suguru, knowing he surely can’t deny you both—and he won’t. 

“tell us you love us, angel. tell us who fucks you so good, then you can cum.” he grunts, laying his hands over satoru’s to feel you move your hips on them both, fucking into geto just to throw your ass back on satoru—it’s so fucking good. 

his demand isn’t even a challenge—you’ve succumbed to their desires for you some time ago, accepting their brutal form of love as the one that you’re deserving of—men who would kill for you. what more could you ever want? 

“i love you, fuck—i love you both so much! i always have–i always have, you’re my boys!” you pant, your voice begging plead. “you fuck me so good–let me cum to show you, please–suguru!! satoru!!” you cry their names so sweetly that satoru can’t hold himself back anymore—hot cum fills your ass before you even finish saying it. he’s shuddering, nodding to give you his permission, though you wait for suguru too. 

he leans forward—jerking your chin up into a proper kiss with him, gnashing on your lips and giving you a taste of his tongue. he holds your face still as he pulls away, nodding. “cum, angel. you’ve been so fucking good.” he drawls in your ear, giving satoru a rewarding kiss too as your hips spasm under his command. it strokes his ego, the way you scream and jerk as your orgasm overtakes you—the ones he’s denied you factoring into the toe-curling sensation of this one. he follows after you—his hot seed spurting out in bursts, so so much cum. it’s clear suguru and satoru have planned this for some time—and now that delights you instead of invoking the fear it should, if you were normal. 

satoru rubs at your shoulders, pulling away from suguru’s lips with a loud smack. you can feel your heart pounding—hearing it in your ears as they turn to you—cocks still plugging you full. “now princess…” he hums as suguru picks you up off of him. he looks so pretty, you think, his skin slightly red from excitement—blue eyes wild with adrenaline. “we’re gonna get you cleaned up—and then it’s your turn to attack.” he giggles, making you snap your tired head up to suguru who holds you like a baby. 

“the police. we have to be believable survivors after all. didn’t you watch any horror movie, y/n?” he shakes his head, a fond grin on his face as he takes you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter for satoru to wipe down. gojo kneels between your legs to clean you carefully as suguru tucks the knife into your hands. 

“aim for the stomach. you’ve got our hearts already.” suguru smirks, dialing 911. 

[wileys-russo]

off limits (2) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one

short and angstyy, but there is another part coming! off limits (2) II a.putellas x león!reader

"...alexia?"

"mapi..." you took a step toward your sister, stopping as she held up her hand. "no." she started, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "no, no, no, no!" your sister began to laugh which was almost scarier than her silence, looking in between you and her best friend in disbelief.

"hermana please can we just sit down and talk about-" you started quietly, falling silent as your sister eyes burned angrily into you. "how long?" mapi asked frighteningly calm, directing the question toward you.

"just one time, a drunken mistake." alexia spoke up before you could, her chin held high as your face fell, your sister glancing toward you and clearly seeing the hurt splashed across it putting two and two together.

"do not dare to lie to me right now alexia you're supposed to be my best friend!" mapi spat, moving quickly so she was chest to chest with the taller girl who avoided meeting her eyes. "so how long?" your sister asked again this time to alexia, jaw clenched and fists balled.

"almost eight months." you answered when she didn't, your sisters head whipping toward you now as you shrunk under her withering glare. "almost a year. you have both kept this from me for nearly a year?" mapi yelled in disbelief, shoving alexia whose head now hung low, refusing to say another word.

"that's my baby sister putellas! you've been sleeping with her for eight months behind my back?" mapi saw red as she shoved her best friend who stumbled back but remained silent.

"you're supposed to look out for her not take advantage of her! do you have nothing to say to me alexia? nothing?" mapi was shouting now, shoving the girl angrily with every word, who was still refusing to look her in the eyes.

"maría leave her be! she didn't at all take advantage of me. i'm an adult and i can date whoever i want and i do not need your permission." you stepped in, unable to watch your girlfriend take the majority of your sisters wrath anymore.

"an adult?" the older girl rounded on you now with a mocking pout, getting right up in your face as your back hit the wall behind you.

"she's your captain and my best friend hermana! how could you do this to me for so long?" your sister spat, shoving you now. "i didn't do anything to you maría! you're overreacting." you tried your best to reason with her as she merely scoffed at your words.

the two of you had argued in the past, in fact you spent a lot of your childhood at one anothers throats, but as you grew older things settled, you'd not seen her this angry with you for years.

"what else have you been keeping from me huh? i thought we told each other everything!" she yelled making you wince from the close proximity.

"nothing, you know that. hermana please can we just sit down and talk about-" your back thumped harshly into the wall as she pushed you harder, shaking her head wordlessly as the words dried up in your mouth.

as you glanced over her shoulder your face fell when alexias eyes remained trained to the floor, you'd hope she might have stepped in but it seemed her own guilt had taken priority.

"i didn't tell you because i knew you would react like this. you always do maría you are so fucking over protective, you smother me and stick your nose in all my business all the time!" you shoved her back now as she barely moved, only laughing at your words.

"yeah? well you're a selfish little girl who knows nothing. alexia doesn't care about you! and i can't even look at you right now. mierda how could you be so stupid!" the tattooed spaniard spat, shaking her head, shoving you once more before moving away and moving her glare toward alexia.

"you stay away from her i mean it. i treat you like family and you do this to me? we're done alexia, for good. and both of you? done!" your sister looked as if she had more to say, but with a huff and a shake of her head she turned and stormed toward the door, slamming it closed behind her, leaving a thick and uncomfortable silence lingering around your apartment.

"ale." you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you made a beeline for your girlfriend, desperately seeking some sort of comfort from the older girl.

but her hand shot out to stop you, causing you to grunt quietly as you ran into it, trying and failing to wrap yourself around her in a hug.

"you heard her, we're done." the blonde couldn't even look at you as she forced out her words, unable to watch the heartbreak she knew would be present in your soft features.

"alexia..." you whispered out with a hurt frown, certain you'd heard her wrong as she dropped her arm, turning and starting to collect her things where they were scattered around your room.

"baby please can we just talk about this?" you grabbed her arm again as she continued to shove her things into a bag, your heart cracking more with each drawer she opened, knowing where exactly all of her possessions were located throughout your apartment.

"there's nothing to talk about bonita, your sisters right." alexia murmured, gently pulling your hand off her bicep, sparing a glance toward you but she looked away as if she'd been burned, her chest tightening as she watched the tears which threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"mapi's just hurt and she's angry and she lashed out, she didn't mean what she said. you're her best friend, she loves you." you moved your body to block your door frame, reaching out for her again. "please don't do this." you begged, your voice cracking as your hands tightly gripped at her shirt.

"amor i-" she started, her hands settling on top of yours with a pained sigh. "she may be angry but she is right. i'm the captain and i need there to be no issues with my girls if we expect to play well and win, this will only ever cause issues, we both know that. this was a mistake." and with that she pulled your hands away, gently stepping around you as she landed the final blow, your body slumping into the door frame in disbelief.

as you heard her start to open your front door your body suddenly flooded with a wave of white hot anger and you quickly turned, your fists balled by your sides.

"eight months alexia. did all of it mean nothing to you?" you growled, desperately fighting to hold back a sob, only met with silence and her back faced toward you.

"i really am sorry it has to end like this amor, but you'll realise i'm right with time." her words only angered you further as you saw red, an ocean of emotions crashing down on you all at once and it left your head spinning.

"if you do this, if you leave...i will never ever speak to you again alexia. never!" you threatened her with what you knew were empty words but you had to try.

alexia's hand lingered on the door handle, forehead pressed against the wood, tears welling up in her own eyes as she heard how broken you were, how broken she was making you.

"i really hope that isn't true bonita. i'm sorry, i have to go." unable to stand the suffocating tension of her own emotions she quickly opened the door, stepping out and closing it behind her, almost running to her car as you stood still.

you weren't sure how long you stayed there, staring at the door, praying it to open again and the girl you loved would return. her strong arms would wrap around you and she would hold you, protecting you from the world and its cruelties with everything she had in her.

but the door didn't open, and the girl you loved had left you without so much as a hug goodbye.

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

part three

[eiightysixbaby]

begging for some more older! eddie maybe us out late at a bar let’s have him be jealous and mean😈😈

ohhhhh bestie I can do that 👀

18+ only!!! allusions to smut, mean eddie but he’s just worried about you, jealous eddie, mentions of reader drinking alcohol

Eddie spots you the second he enters the bar. The whole place is sleazy, shitty music blaring in his ears as he pushes through the inebriated crowds. He can feel his boots sticking to the floor as he walks and the air feels thick with the heat radiating off of these strangers’ bodies.

You’re leaning against the bar, your elbows propped up on the probably-filthy countertop as you chat with the bartender. You flip your hair slightly, shifting your weight where you stand and wobbling slightly in your high heels. Definitely tipsy.

Your skirt is obscenely short, and the problem Eddie has with this is that you’re wearing it now, in front of these other men, when you blew him off.

Unable to get ahold of you, he’d been an anxious mess at home. He knew you were going out with friends but you’d promised you’d be at his place by 10. It’s 12:15.

His jaw clenches when he doesn’t see a single one of your friends around, and the way the bartender keeps smiling at you makes him want to punch the guy’s teeth in. He stomps up behind you, a firm hand gripping your arm and turning you to face him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, the anger in his face. You’d fucked up, letting your phone die and not getting in touch with him. Staying out later than you’d said you would.

“I think you’re done here,” he says, and it’s not a question or a request or a joke. It’s a command, an order. You are done here, and we’re going the fuck home.

“Eddie-ee,” you hiccup, trying to keep some composure but failing with the alcohol in your system.

“You’re fucking wasted. Are you fucking kidding me, honey? It’s nearly half past midnight and I haven’t heard a thing from you.” His voice is firm, gruff as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“Is there a problem here?” the bartender asks, and Eddie seriously contemplates the consequences of beating this guy’s ass.

“Yeah, you. She’s not interested, pal. And she’s certainly not going home with you tonight,” he barks, yanking you away before the nuisance can respond.

“I’m sorry, Ed, my phone—”

“It died, right? Because you didn’t charge it even though I asked you to fucking charge it before you left,” he grits, and you look down at the floor in shame. He asked you one simple thing, and you neglected to do it. You won’t say it, but he has every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was!? When I couldn’t get ahold of you? Knowing you were out drinking?” Eddie asks, guilt clawing at your insides.

He shoves open the door to the bar, ushering you out into the parking lot. You shiver at the chill in the air, far colder out than it had been when you’d arrived.

“Nothing bad happened, Ed, I’m fine,” you stress, but he’s having none of it.

“But it could have!” he barks, his voice stern and louder than he usually ever speaks to you. “Sure looked like you were having fun entertaining that bartender,” he scoffs.

You grimace, suddenly sobering up rapidly. You hadn’t been flirting with the guy, but it couldn’t have looked good from Eddie’s perspective. You do tend to get overly friendly when you drink, talkative and chipper.

“We were just talking, I had ordered a drink!” is what comes out of your mouth, for reasons unbeknownst to you. You’d meant to quell his suspicions, but instead you sound petulant and defensive.

“Just fucking talking,” he chuckles, albeit humorlessly. “Don’t think he thought you were just talking, sweets.”

He opens the passenger door of his vehicle, slamming it behind you after you get in. The way he forces the key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot makes your stomach churn. You make it to his place in record timing, the entire ride silent. He doesn’t open the door this time, or help you out of the car. Your feet ache in your heels and your hands wring together as you walk to his front door.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say meekly, standing helplessly in his living room as he regards you out of his peripheral.

You see the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, and he brings one hand up to rub at his chin, the gray and brown scruff that litters the skin.

“You had me worried fucking sick,” he says, emphasizing this. He walks toward you until the backs of your thighs are hitting the arm of the couch. “I need you to follow rules, baby. All I asked was that you charge your phone,” his eyes don’t look away from yours for even a second, making sure you’re listening.

You nod, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. He smells like his cologne and a hint of tobacco, a scent so familiar and comforting to you. You wonder why you’d wanted to go out tonight at all, when he’s been here all along.

He steps even closer, resting a hand on your hip possessively. “And don’t even think about chatting up anymore bartenders,” he warns, his mouth hovering beside your ear. “Got it?” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I won’t,” you agree, knees nearly buckling when an index finger reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Now why don’t you take these clothes off and go get on the bed for me, pretty girl. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”

[themorningsunshine]

Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU 

Masterlist                         Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons 

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a  dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead. 

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting.  You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.  

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