#like no it's Not Fair that you don't feel right leaving the house without makeup! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sarcasticsciencefictionwriter · 1 year

Note

Modern / fairy tale SG-1 Story pleeeeease?

Done! I spent a lot of time trying to figure this out, which is weird for me with the fairy tale genre. So here's a fairy tale story AU with a Sam/Jack element. :) Feel free to ask for another story or a continuation of this story. It got a bit long, so I will be willing to do a follow up.

______

Hooded

______

The day was sunny with a chill to the air, the perfect autumn afternoon. She stepped off the bus breathing in the crisp air and smiling.

The bus let off a bit of a distance from her destination, but she didn't mind walking the rest of the way. Sam was young and fit and the walk was just part of her exercise. Important to get that where she could.

She walked, turning on to a street/road where the sidewalks didn't continue. It was a short cut to her destination, considering the bus route didn't go to where she needed it to. Sam was humming as she walked alongside the road, her hands in the pockets of her hooded sweat jacket, which was perfect for the weather.

The neighborhood she was walking through maintained the illusion of a rural feel, even though it really wasn't. A bigger, upscale neighborhood penned it on one side and similar ones to its own status on the others. The woods surrounding the houses made it feel like it was a fair distance away from everything else. Sam was marveling at the difference in just such a short distance as she walked.

"Hello again." a voice said. It attempted a purr, but sounded more like a growl.

Sam glanced to her right, seeing the man that had just walked down a driveway to join her, walking alongside her. He was older, with fading ginger head and facial hair. At first, Sam had thought he was handsome. Now she just wanted him to leave her alone.

"Jonas." she said, clenching her jaw and looking ahead of her.

"You look nice today." Jonas remarked.

Sam snorted. She was wearing worn jeans, comfortable but scuffed boots, a faded T-shirt and a hooded red sweat jacket. She hadn't bothered with makeup and the brisk breeze had ruffled her short hair into bothersome spikes.

"Leave me alone, please."

"You shouldn't be walking along the side of the road by yourself." Jonas said.

Sam ignored him. She wanted to draw away from him, but he did have a point. She couldn't move away from him without stepping out into the road and into any potential traffic.

"I can and I will, thank you, Jonas." Sam said, quickening her pace.

"Sam! Wait! I just want to talk!"

_____

Jack was working in his driveway, with wood scattered around on various improvised surfaces. He was cutting and staining the wood for a deck and was doing it around front because the driveway had some nice shade at this time of day.

He glanced up at movement at the end of his driveway and he saw a now-familiar figure walking by. She had been going by a few times a week for a few weeks now and he had become familiar with her routine. It was always the same time of day.

Today, however, there was someone with her.

Jack straightened and watched the man following her. They seemed to be arguing. The man was bigger than the woman and seemed to be acting aggressively towards her. Jack acted when he grabbed her arm.

He walked down the driveway, brush still in hand, as she tried to yank her arm free. She was getting ready to kick him in the crotch, which Jack would have enjoyed seeing, had he not been certain that it would end badly for her if she did it.

"Excuse me!" Jack called, deciding that was the best way to go about it, especially since it wasn't like they were on his property.

They both stopped what they were doing and the man immediately dropped the woman's arm, trying to look at ease though he was clearly tense.

"Yes?" the man asked as the woman took two steps away from him, glaring at both of them.

"Why don't you leave the lady alone?" Jack suggested civilly.

"Mind your own business." the man barked.

"Maybe mind your own." Jack said, holding his gaze. "Hansen, isn't it?"

He recognized the man now. He had moved in with a friend down the road a few months ago and they didn't get along. Jack had the impression that he wasn't a great guy.

"Yeah." Hansen grunted.

He looked Jack over, glanced at the woman, and then walked away, headed in the direction he had come from.

Satisfied, Jack looked to the woman. She was pretty. Younger than him, with blonde hair that had been ruffled by the breeze, and blue eyes. Her lips were currently pressed together in an unhappy frown.

"I'm not a damsel in distress, you know. I didn't need you to save me." she said.

"That's a funny way to say thank you." Jack said, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Didn't need the help." She waited a bit. "Thank you."

It was said grudgingly. Jack supposed he couldn't blame her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"What, so you can follow me there too?" she snorted. "Not that gullible."

"Fair enough."

She gave him a sunny smile that didn't actually seem to be faked and flipped up the hood of her red jacket before turning and walking away.

Jack stayed where he was until she was out of sight.

_____

Sam was grumbling to herself as she walked back from Catherine's. She had told the older woman about the encounter with Jonas and the man that had gotten involved.

Catherine had chided her for taking the short cut and not allowing her to send someone for her when Sam wanted to visit her.

She had insisted that she didn't mind. That she could handle herself and that Jonas didn't bother her. She didn't mind the bus and the walk and she could stay independent. She didn't need Catherine to send a car for her. Especially when the driver seemed to think Sam was too low-class to be spending time with Catherine.

Nevertheless, she had taken the long walk back to the bus stop, to avoid Jonas. Sam knew that she never should have spoken to him in the first place She had run into him walking to Catherine's when he had been out on a jog and they had ended up talking. Sam had enjoyed it at the time. It turned out to have been a mistake.

She had been dealing with him for weeks now. They had gone out on one date a week or two after meeting and now he wouldn't leave her alone when she had decided that it wouldn't go further.

Catherine had told her that if she were smart, she would stop walking by where he was living. Sam had said that she wasn't going to alter her life to accommodate a guy.

She thought about the man that had chased Jonas away. She had been mad, because she could handle herself. But she knew that he had done her a favor. She curled her fingers into a fist as she thought of Jonas. She had been going to kick him in the crotch for grabbing her arm. She had been a little disappointed that she hadn't been able to.

Oh well. Maybe next time.

_____

Things got worse over the next week. Sam kept going to Catherine's by the same route she had been using all these weeks. Maybe it was a mistake, but Sam was stubborn and Jonas should have been moving out of his friend's house some time soon. She was not going to let him intimidate her.

Even though he kept following her. He seemed to know better than to grab her arm or anything again.

Sam noticed every time she passed the driveway, the man who had interfered was working out there. She would watch her, even when Jonas wasn't there. She had the weird feeling that he was looking out for her. She had no idea why.

After a few days of this, Sam took to waving and smiling at him, whether or not Jonas was with her. She saw the look on Jonas's face when she did, but she didn't care.

She thought that the man was rather handsome, even though she had only seen him up close once. Then she wondered at the attraction she felt and if it was a bad thing. The man was older than her by quite a bit, just like Jonas was.

Sam brushed those thoughts aside, heading to Catherine's. She knew that she didn't need to visit so much, but the woman was practically her grandmother, in ways. Sam had caught Catherine's eye as a bright high school student and Catherine had paid for a full-ride scholarship to college for her. Sam was one of quite a few she had done that for, providing Sam an alternative when she had forgone the military path of her family. They had bonded very well and Catherine had been ill recently.

There was no way that she was going to stop visiting, even if she kept walking by Jonas.

No Jonas today. He didn't join her when she passed his buddy's house. His car wasn't in the driveway. That put a bounce in Sam's step. Maybe he had finally gotten the message. She passed the man's driveway. He was gathering up the boards she had seen him working on, presumably to take around the back of the house.

She raised her hand and waved. He waved back.

A light drizzle started and Sam flipped up the hood of her jacket as she kept walking.

She was passing a patch of woods, skittishly moving away from the road as a big, fast truck passed, when someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the trees.

_____

Jack was really getting into the construction of his deck. It was almost complete at this point and he had done everything himself. Maybe it was a pure male thing, but doing every part of it himself made him feel insanely proud.

He was trying to finish the railing, hammering some pieces into place, before the rain got too heavy. Then he heard a scream.

It was short and cut off, but it made Jack go on the alert. Screams weren't exactly an uncommon thing, really, especially in a neighborhood with kids. Screams were actually a lot more common to hear than people thought.

But Jack had been a solider and he knew that sort of scream wasn't a good thing. So he took off running in the direction it came from, entering the trees at the back of his property, hammer still in hand.

____

Sam was fighting as hard as she could, but Jonas had one arm pinning her arms to her body and the other hand clamped to her mouth as he dragged her back into the trees. Kicking him meant that his arm would end up around her throat if she lifted her feet up and she could barely stay on her feet.

She bit at his hand and he squeezed her face tight enough to make tears well in her eyes and nearly cut off her breathing.

"We didn't have to do it this way, Sam." he breathed in her ear as she struggled. "But you made me have to do this."

She had made him do anything, but it wasn't like Sam could point that out right now. Sam fought harder. Jonas slammed her into a tree, whacking her head into the trunk hard enough to make her see stars. He pinned her with his body, yanking down her hood, his breath hot on the back of her neck. Sam jerked and whimpered as he kissed her there.

"Don't fight it, Sam. It will be easier that way."

_____

Jack ran through the woods, listening for any sign of what was going on. He had he bad feeling that the person who had screamed was the woman that Hansen had been stalking. And that Hansen was the cause.

"Jonas! Please! No!"

It wasn't as loud as the previous scream, but it was desperate and broken at the same time. It was her voice. Jack slowed his pace, looking around. He crept quietly through the trees.

He stopped when he could see what was going on.

Hansen had her pinned up against a tree and was fumbling with her clothing. There was no doubt in Jack's mind what he was going to do to her. She was still fighting, despite everything. He admired her spirit.

Jack took a deep breath, adjusted his grip on the hammer, and moved forward.

_____

Jonas's hand was yanking at her jeans and Sam tried to throw her weight back, trying to throw him off, but he was too heavy. Tears welled in her eyes. She had never thought it would come to this. Had she really been so stupid?

She heard a twig snap. Jonas didn't notice. There was a sudden impact and a grunt and the weight pinning Sam vanihed.

She jerked away and spun to see the man that had previously interfered was with Jonas on the ground, fighting him. Sam was stunned and at first didn't know how to react. A hammer was laying on the ground.

Jonas rolled on top of the man, pinning him and starting to hit him.

Sam didn't think. She acted.

She grabbed the hammer and swung it at Jonas as hard as hard as she could.

She hadn't been aiming, truly, and was stunned when she caught him in the head, dropping him instantly.

He didn't move again.

The man stood up, rubbing his jaw as he looked at Jonas. Sam tensed, tightening her grip on the hammer, staring at him.

"Nice shot."

"I killed him." she whispered, mind trying to comprehend this.

"Good."

Sam stared at him in shock, pulling her gaze away from Jonas's body.

"Good?"

"Good." he repeated, stepping closer to her. "He deserved it for what he was doing to you."

"Thank you." Sam said, lowering the hammer, realizing she was shaking.

He gave her a smile despite a face that was bloody and definitely going to be bruised.

"You're welcome. Are you okay?"

Sam assessed herself and nodded. She let the hammer slide from her fingers. She looked down at Jonas.

"What now?"

"We call the cops from....where are you heading?" he asked.

"My grandmother's house."

"Okay. We call the cops from grandma's house. I'll make sure you get there safely."

Sam stared at him, not sure what to do. A part of her wanted to scream. Cry. Run. She ended up throwing her arms around him instead.

"Thank you." Sam repeated.

He returned her embrace and they quickly parted. Embarrassed, Sam held out hand. They shook.

"I'm Sam."

"Jack."

He literally shrugged off what he had just done. Sam liked that. She needed that right now. He moved away and waited patiently.

Sam looked back at Jonas's body one more time, then flipped the hood of her jacket back up as she walked to join Jack.

The wolf in the woods was gone. She was safe now.

#stargate sg1 #fanfiction #writing prompt #prompts #sam x jack #sam and jack #sam carter #samantha carter #jack o'neill #thanks for the ask

3 notes · View notes

libraryofplotbunnies · 1 year

Text

Douglas York Prompt

64 “If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if you knew what you’re doing.”

Trigger Warning: Depiction of a Panic Attack. [Going to leave this here since I don't know if it will or not, but fair warning.]

This is it. You are gonna see one of your old friends after five years. Who are you kidding, this is going to be a disaster.

The entrance to Douglas’s bedroom seems more foreboding than you remember. Must be jitters, jitters thats all. A nervous chuckle escapes your lips, more like an amused huff of air than a full chuckle though. The door was the same dark mahogany with intricate vines furnished in gold along the edges of the door. You gently place your fingertips on the lines, tracing them lightly til your fingers brush against the deeper carvings on the door. A willow tree adorns itself at the right border, its long branches draping down towards the door knob with the trunk descending downwards into a water brook. There were thin dark metal pieces lining the door, reminding you of iron. You tilt your head in confusion as that wasn’t there five years ago.

A smile slowly spreads on your lips when you suddenly recall an old memory. Of Roy’s and Rosette’s teasing smiles and Douglas’s amused smirk when you first went to their house as a child. You couldn’t ever imagine that a house could look like a storybook castle come to life with its grandiose design and regal aesthetic. The sparkles in Rosette’s eyes as she roped everybody into a game of pretend. Roy playing the valiant hero with his plastic sword and hodgepodge kitchen armor, Douglas looking ridiculously serious in his bathrobe and wide brim hat with a ladle for a wand, Rosette cackling in her gown from a previous school play and her mother’s makeup slapped on haphazardly, and you constantly hiding from them so they can save you from the evil shadow witch. Oh how you miss those days of running without a care and following after your friends wherever they went. Feeling finally whole after so long. You wish those days would come back. But you can’t forget what happened five years ago, you can’t forget about it. You have to remember the most important thing too [Name].

Those times are over.

Your hand trembles as you bring your knuckles to knock on the door. A quick and light tap that you hope Douglas will hear, trepidation filling your entire being. Before your knuckles can even graze the door, it swiftly opens with a bespectacled man holding the doorknob on the other side. You stand frozen with your hand still raised, only mere inches from the man’s face. Is that Douglas? His hair is longer and much more disheveled than last time with a dark stubble on his jaw. Bags digging underneath his eyes and his glasses askew on his face.

“Are you just going to stand there,” the man sternly questioned. It shakes you out of your dumbfoundedness. His eyes bore into you at his place by his door, crossing his arms over his hooded chest and leaning against the doorframe to seemingly inspect you further from an angle.

Your raised hand quickly settles by your side. That itching under your skin is coming back. Please not now. Your hands were twitching, the fight or flight response causing havoc within your body. Just open your mouth [Name]. Just say something, please anything. You felt all the unspoken words traveled up your throat but a squeak was your only answer. Choking on all of the regret and guilt you’ve carried the last five years. The tears were stinging your eyes now. Why now? Your hands are now clenching hard on your t-shirt’s neckline, curling into yourself as the waves keep coming over and over. Please stop. Not like this.

A presence is closer to you now. You could feel the heat coming from their body, a voice trying to call to you. It was but a whisper though. You can’t hear what they’re saying, only the pounding blood in your eardrums is surrounding you. Breath escaping. Lungs squeezing. Each breath comes out faster and faster. Then something touches you.

It was featherlight. A mere graze. Fingertips hesitantly holding your shoulders. The voice is cutting through the black, the pounding eardrums, and encircling doom. You felt another touch. Near your eyes. Oh you were crying. The itchiness in your eyes and tear tracks running down your cheeks. The hand was cradling your jaw, a soft embrace as it wiped the tears away one by one.”I-It’s o-o-okay,” it whispered. The hand is more solid against your jaw, grounding you into the present. The other hand rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder. Slowly, your breathing deepens again. In. Out. Breathe in. Breathe Out. Through the nose, out your mouth. You rapidly blink, rubbing your hand over your eyes to clear your vision.

In its place is him. Douglas’s brows are crinkled in worry, well adapted for someone so young. His eyes scrutinize you as they roam over your face, his hands still trying to sooth you though you could see a trace of confusion on him. In his grimacing mouth and the way his fingers aren’t used to the motions, stiff and clumsy. You let out a laugh. Louder than the one before. Douglas’s eyebrows raised slightly, eyes wider in shock at the sound that came out of you. “If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if you knew what you’re doing,” you huffed roughly. Your dry throat messes up your sentiment. It was lightened by your subdued laughter, though you were still choked up from the drying tears. He swiftly frowns at the statement before it lifts upwards at your laughter. Now holding your face with both hands with an amused smile, he studies you, drinking you in after so long.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it Lassy,” your voice lilts at the old nickname. The groan from his lips makes you smile more as you lean forward and wrap your hands around him.

“I was hoping you forgot that nickname,” he weakly laments. His hands are now placed on your back, looser than his former hold on your jaw.

“How could I,” you questioned. Leaning further into his hold, resting your chin on the crook of his shoulder. “You’re our Lassy,” punctuated by a brief squeeze from you.

He only huffs at the response, burrowing deeper into your hold.

#belrose curse- if #douglas york #writing prompt #ros prompt #LinWrites #i hate my writing

3 notes · View notes

brioso123 · 2 years

Text

Why Makeup is Important for Women

Makeup is quite an important part of women's beauty routine. It can be used to express oneself or to enhance one's natural beauty. Even if you're not a fan of the stuff, there are still some good reasons why you should use it. A woman values her appearance and beauty, so makeup is an essential part of getting ready to go out or attend a special occasion. The Best Bridal Makeup Artist in Pune helps those who want a more polished and finished look.

For many women, makeup is a confidence booster. Many of you may not be used to leaving the house without makeup. Many women do not want anyone to see them until they have put on makeup. However, this could be termed an extreme obsession. While many women agree that makeup helps them feel more confident, even minimal makeup is enough for many others. Therefore, the amount of makeup needed to boost confidence varies greatly from woman to woman.

There are numerous reasons why makeup is essential, but here are a few of my favorites:

Why is Makeup Important for a Woman?

Makeup is important for a woman because it can enhance her beauty and give her confidence. It can also help to compensate for any flaws she may have. For example, if a woman has very fair skin, she can use a few shades of foundation or concealer to darken it and even out her complexion. This will make her appear more attractive and give her more self-confidence.

1. Enhance the Beauty:

Makeup can't change the absolute appearance of your face or completely transform you into someone else. Maybe it can only be used to improve its characteristics to the maximum. If you have dreamy eyes, you can make them look even more beautiful by focusing most of your makeup on just your eyes.

2. To Look Younger:

You can also consider wearing makeup if you want to look younger than your actual age. If you don't wear any makeup, people are likely to assume you're much older than they think because of how your face looks without any coverage.

3. Diversity and Flexibility:

A woman's makeup can be worn for a variety of occasions. The Best Makeover Artist in India helps you to look like a celebrity and times when you just want to look natural. This is why women must know how to apply makeup correctly so that they can achieve the right look for their occasion.

4. It Helps you Better Understand your Face:

When you are so close to your face when you apply your makeup, you notice and understand your face better. You learn what to do and what not to do to make your makeup look it’s best and flawless. You understand your face's curves and the various ways you can enhance your face. We always knew about the importance of makeup in our lives, but we couldn't find the right words to describe it.

5. It Gives Us Confidence:

Every woman is really beautiful despite the makeup. What makeup does is add to your beauty. It also helps hide small flaws and even out the complexion. You may feel bad about certain things on your face and they bother you. When you talk to a person, you may keep wondering if they are looking at your pimples. All makeup does is give you an extra lift and you can conquer the world with this confidence.

#best bridal look #best makeup artist in india #best makeup artist for bridal #brioso services #bridal makeup #bridal beauty services #brioso salon for ladies

2 notes · View notes

fiction-is-passion · 2 years

Text

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Hello again

I figured I'd do some alcohol safety guide for those that are turning 21 this year and I'd like to help you out and have the time of your life!

To prepare is to have pockets for your cards such as IDs to get in. Debit cards or cash on you. Make sure your phone is fully charged. Bring a tazer or pepper spray or any form of protecting.

The first thing is have a safe ride to a bar or club. Do not go if you have sensory issues or you are on any prescriptions that will mix with the alcohol. Be sure to find proper parking. Park in a safe spot away from alleyways where people can steal your car. If your in a big city. Make sure your friends also walk to your car too. Also, be sure to search for reviews on the bar. Avoid bars that house hate.

Next is to eat a big meal before drinking. Don't drink on an empty stomach. Trust me. Shit sucks. Drink a shit ton of water to before going out. That way your more sober and alert.

Thirdly is to dress to YOUR comfort level. Don't dress if you feel uncomfortable or even dysphoric. Dress in something casual and comfortable. Do not go to a bar or club if your friends are pushing you to dress a certain way that makes you uneasy, don't go.

Fourthly is to limit the round of shots if your driving, be sure to have water with you at your table with your friends. Do NOT I repeat! DO NOT LEAVE YOUR DRINK UNATTENDED! Please take it with you at all times including the bathroom. Have friends to watch your drink if needed.

If your asking for shots, these are the list of shots that you can get from the bartender if you don't know you can ask for:

Jack Daniel's

Hennessey

Jameson

Patrón

1800s

Moonshine

Captain Morgan Rum

Smirnoff vodka

Make sure you don't mix clear liquor with dark liquor, it'll be a wild time so just a fair warning.

Look up the prices of cocktails, find ones that are within your budget. If you need to put it on a tab, please do so. Put it on a friend's tab if they've asked. Don't put it on another person's tab without their concent.

For those are uncomfortable with the environment. Please blacklist it so other people don't go. If your friends agree with you and you communicate, you can go home or continue to party.

For after your done drinking. Go ahead and order a meal and drink water. You'd have less chances of getting a hangover. There should be places that are open after midnight so snag something good to eat.

If you still feel unsafe. Don't hesitate to carpool with someone instead. If you rather still ride with someone and they're sober. Then you can go. If they're not, sober them up or call an uber. Don't go with a stranger.

Be sure once you get home you've locked your doors or windows. Text your friends and tell them you've made it home safely. If you're still drunk, drink more water before bed. Because after crashing, you'd feel like a zombie in the morning.

If you've waken up with a headache. Take some medication, pain meds. Drink pickle juice if you have any. Look up other home remedies for hangovers and see what works for you.

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

Tips and a refresher:

Don't drink on weekdays, drink on weekends

Water is your friend

Eat protein. Keep your protein intake high

Greesy foods are your friends. They will help you stay full throughout the night.

Take shots then drink water after

Have one or two cocktails depending of you're staying till closing

If your afab/person with ovaries. You have the right to say no to a drink from a cisguy.

If you wanna wear pants instead of a dress, do so. Your wardrobe is your aesthetic.

Makeup is minimune. Because you won't have time to wash it off if your not sober enough.

Do not consume sugary alcoholic drinks! They will fuck you up more!

Don't take shots from people you don't know.

Keep pain meds and water on your nightstand just in case.

Keep track of what you brought. Don't bring so much stuff with you.

I guess that's it. Thanks for reading and good luck! 🍹🍸🍷🍾🍺🥃

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯

#alcohol #cw alcohol #alcohol advice #advice #safety

3 notes · View notes

prelovednikaidou · 3 years

Text

corrupt; draken, ken ryuguji [01]

Summary:

In which you met the man of your past, but he didn't come back to remind you of the bitter break-up. Draken had one thing in mind and it was to never let you leave his side ever again. Distance made the heart grow fonder but he'd rather let you spend the rest of your life hating him if it meant you'd never leave his sight.

"I don't wish you well when you ain't with me, I want you crying."

Warning:

mention of suicide, oral receiving (reader),

a/n: taglist are open up to 10 users! comment '☁️'

Word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

[01: jealousy]

Draken wanted to take you away.

The curves of your spine, flowing down to the slope of your well-rounded bottom flesh, he watched the symmetrical dimple right above your butt - mocking him that those precious intimate spots were no longer his possession to own.

It wasn't only him who shared the same thought; everyone in this crowded room had their eyes glued on you. As if you were holding those guests captive, you felt immense pressure on your feet and thighs, quivered before you wrapped your leg around the shining pole.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Those blinding lights showered your sweating figure in all fairness, the sound of Abel's voice had long dimmed down, it meant that your show was done. It was silent in a minute,

lifting your face - your lips curled into a hunting smile and the room soared with cheers, crumpled money tossed across the stage, but your sense of content was suppressed by the overwhelming tension.

A pair of black pupils were starring at you - pinning you to where you stood. He was among the crowd, all in his glory without care but you. You felt something burst inside your chest, unable to tear your focus from him.

This longing for him is toxic.

Flashes of memories where those sober eyes bore into yours when he pumped his fat cock into your tight cunt until his thick cum over spilled, the same eyes that once shone with so much love but turned cold.

"Dollface!"

A shout from backstage startled you from your daze, another coworker came up and escorted you down, assisting you to take off the painful high heels.

"What's with you?" She threw a curious stare your way.

You still couldn't wrap your mind. He was there. Flesh and soul, presented in front of you. It was a brief eye contact but it was enough. Enough to tell you that he was coming back for you.

It had been years since the two of you chose to split up, making your paths without each other's companion.

"I, I've got to go. I forgot that I locked the windows, my cat's probably waiting for me. He's been out for 3 days so he's starving I think. Y'all can continue without me,"

You stood but your knees turned weak at the sudden arrival of him, standing by the door. A few steps taken back, you lost all rationality to stay calm because your heart thumped loudly.

Standing tall on his 6' ft, athletic and young Draken was nowhere to be seen but replaced - with a mature adult man that induced everything he carried into lust.

The robust body looked incredibly fit, lean, and you could see the strong outlines of his defined chest and abdominal muscles from the black shirt. If it was years ago, those leather jackets wouldn't suit him - he'd look like those up-start wannabe gangsters.

But it was different now. It clung to his broad shoulders perfectly, he wasn't as cheap as those local pranksters. The dark jeans also did little job in hiding his long legs. He was indeed a member of a gang; eerie and cruel - but he had never look this good that you want to fuck.

Draken's presence was enough to brush away every man in the room that you belonged to him. Your little admirers couldn't even look at him in the eyes, let alone make up a fight.

They left with a strong sense of defeat; no wonder you never once accept any confessions, turned out you have such a man waiting.

"Why is he here? This area is off-limits. Only staff is allowed. Naoki, guide him out." You forced yourself to mutter those words, uncaring to look at him with your back facing him.

Naoki sighed, this man literally slipped $750 under the table just to meet you. Those incompetent flies who claimed to love you didn't even spare this much effort. She only signaled him to step in before she whispered to you,

"Remember the guy I told you? The one that booked a whole session for your private room? He's that guy. It's just that he arrived a little early than the arranged meeting but it'll be great if you can build a connection with him."

You glared back, "Then send him back. We still have a week before that, right? I'm tired. I can't keep up with this," You pushed off her hand from your shoulder, began to take off your wig. His eyes were still the same; always undressing you naked.

Naoki could only grit her teeth, the money already landed in her pocket. What if he asked it back? She can't let such a great deal slip so she greeted him,

"She's a bit tired from the recent show. How about we push this to tomorrow? She's got free time on her hand to rest too." At least, this would do, right?

"If I have so much time on my hands, I wouldn't have come a week early. So you guess it yourself." His voice has changed too. It was an octave lower, you immediately rubbed your thighs together before you waved a hand.

"Haaa... leave us, Naoki. But I need you to go to my house. I wasn't joking about what I said earlier."

Naoki hurriedly nodded, clutching to her pocket before her eyes warily darted from Draken to you. Is this a couple feud? She noted in her head that she'd help this guy soon in the future - who doesn't want easy money?

"Okay, I will. Sir...? Err.. hope you have a pleasant chat with Dollface. I will excuse myself then ." The hindrance in Draken's eyes finally left the room, the door closed in a thump and the subtle tension thickened.

He didn't say anything, only leaned his body by the door as he watched you wiped off your makeup. This was his morning view back when you were still wet behind ears about pole dancing. You'd come back at the crack of drawn and he'd already been out to his workshop.

"Dollface."

Stubborn like a little cat, your doe eyes didn't look up from your make-up bag and he could see through your act to be so busy. He loved how feisty you've become after years. It eased his heart that you could chase off those little shit.

"It suits you, [Y/N]. Face so pretty like a doll. Make one's heart itch to keep around. But I wonder why the name sounds so familiar."

"State your business. I'm heading home straight after this so don't expect a lap dance or something."

"Then that's the plan. I'll drive you home, eh?"

That damn 'eh'. He picked up your habit too well that the time he spent with you shaped him into copying your habit. It sounded cute but your heart still couldn't forgive him. Let him suffer a little.

"Don't need to. My boyfriend is great at doing his job. So do me a favor and let me rest quickly, how about that?"

Now, you were looking at him through the mirror. It was just too hard for you to muster yourself to face him directly. Draken didn't seem shaken. He stood straightly, you clenched your thighs tighter.

"Have I ever been quick in everything when I'm with you, [Y/N]?" His towering figure gawked over your smaller frame - casting his shadow over you as his sharp facial features caught your attention.

"Can't remember. Maybe? Because I said it just now almost like a reflex." You replied, not backing down but instead, squaring up to him that your ample breasts brushed against his torso.

His cologne didn't smell like the tacky, cheap body spray he used to own. This one smelled so expensive, alienated your memory of his familiar scent.

"Now you're getting older, your memory is getting rusty, dollface. Should I put on a play and see if you can call anything in mind?" You felt your breath became heavier but he didn't let you lose your focus yet.

Your chin was tugged upwards, the shadow of his cap cast upon his face and you remembered now; it was his eyes. Because he wasn't vocal about his feelings, you could understand everything from his eyes.

"You've grown softer, Draken. I almost threw up listening to you talk like this. What, are you changing jobs now? Don't tell me you went from a gangster to a con artist."

No, you were lying to yourself. Draken didn't change but improved. Change can be something bad but he never did anything that would bring him down. He just got better.

And it was true when the velvety touch on your beating pulse suddenly moved to your lips before he squished your cheeks in his hand.

"Fucking hot as hell but so damn annoying." He laughed, the light from his eyes never return, only replaced by a wicked glint.

He wanted to take you to his place, fuck you in his bed until you couldn't walk properly so he'd have more reasons to keep you at his place. He wanted to swallow you whole and he barely even started but why was it so damn hard to have you?

"Don't dare to think of anything nasty. You might not care about commitment in a relationship, but I do. So take your hands off me, Draken."

"Kenie. It's Kenie for you."

Your lips were so plump and wet, his other arm wrapped around your waist - hoisting you up to his body before he leaned by the dresser.

You shrieked when his scalding hot palm touched your naked back and as he untied the strings of your bra, he smiled at your face as he said,

"Do you think I'm going to believe that, dollface? Do you really think I don't know that this pussy hasn't been fucked well for months? I have eyes across this ward. You don't get to fool me."

Heat rose to your face, your small hands pushed on his shoulders, "You're still up in my business? Sounds like someone can't fucking move on."

He nodded, ripping off your lacey bralette and his big hands began to palm your heavy breast - carelessly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. You fought the urge to moan, you hold onto his shoulder for dear strength.

"You're right. I can't move on." Your breath hitched, he nuzzled his face to the column of your neck, inhaling so deep, and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He missed you so much. So much that if you ran away again, he'd just kill himself.

"I fucked my fist thinking of you. I got this hard just by thinking of you. I'm not ashamed of it."

"That's your problem, Draken. I'm not you. I'm living my best life right now, and sorry that I can still cum just with my fingers."

"That's my girl," He pushed you until your back met the concrete wall, your eyes widened when he took off his cap and put it on you before he dropped to his knees.

"I am aware of your appetite, [Y/N]. You won't be happy with such a small meal. You always keep coming back to have your tight pussy stuffed. Even when we were living together, you couldn't stop begging my dick every night."

"What the hell are you talking about-" You pushed his forehead away from your private part, one hand covering your pussy but he gripped the side of your hips - bringing you straight to his mouth.

"I don't care if you use me as your favorite Cherry Twins. But don't deny that I made you cummed the hardest when I was in your life, dollface."

Your eyes became misty, his words just flew through your head - empty when his mouth latched on your clothed crotch, lapping on the small fabric that the nudge of his tongue probed on your budding clit.

Cherry Twins were the name he gave to your vibrators. Since he was always out when you were at home, he'd make you use them to your greedy cunt - even made a video call so he could jerk off in the public restroom.

You were wild, but he taught you to live even wilder.

Next page: chapter [02] →

a/n : next chapter is full smut bcs thats the only thing my brain's capable of. Taglist are open up to 10 users! Comment '☁️’.

Taglist: @hanmascult @q-the-rockaholic @hikkarins

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyorevengers x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #draken x you #draken x y/n #draken x reader #draken smut #draken #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #nik; [series] ☁️#nik; [corrupt]

248 notes · View notes

voxmortuus · 3 years

Text

Stalking Target

PAIRING: Stalker!Hannibal x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal

SONG CHOICE: Animals - Marooon 5

WORDS: 1.3k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: Anon Prompt Request: Could I have a Hannibal x reader where he stalks the reader as he finds them interesting, but during the day reader avoids him at all costs bc he makes them feel small. The reader sees him one night and pretends not to know, the next day was an off day and they decide to leave the house but when they come back in the dead of night, Hannibal is there. Whatever happens next is up to you 🤗 thank you very much if you write this!!!!!!

NOTE: I left the ending very open, though non-consensual is implied, it is up to the reader to decide what happens in the end. I tried to stick as close to the request as possible. I felt the reader should be female at this moment, it stuck out to me the most, I apologize if this isn't what you were having in mind, but it's what was flowing through me at that moment. Outfit for reader is linked. I hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(s): Stalking | Mild Language | Implied Non-Consensual Adult Situations | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this...

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist | Taglist | PART TWO

REQUESTS: OPEN

Watching, he's always watching. Day, night, he always knows where you are. He's always one to know where to look. Knowing your schedule, it was easy for him, maybe even too easy. You avoid anything during the day- you even got a new job working from home. It was becoming too much, the walls closing in on you.

Today had to be something different; you needed to venture out, to explore, to live. You needed something fun in your life, even for one moment. You wanted to remember what it was like out there; it was this need that you had to fill. Making plans, you were going to ignore him. You were going to pretend you didn't see him. Today was that day.

Waking up, you hop in the shower, follow your morning routine like you do every day. Shower, meds, and vitamins, style your hair, put on some makeup, get dressed. You opt for a cute black romper, a black hat with your favorite black purse with fringe, and black strappy sandals. You let out a heavy breath and look yourself over, nodding- you grab your keys lock your apartment, and head out for your day.

You know he's across the way, sitting reading the paper. A sigh escapes your lips, and you head down the sidewalk to the cafe. You decide you're going to treat yourself to your favorite iced beverage and a pastry of the day, a blueberry cream-filled croissant. Taking a seat by the window, you look down at your phone, looking outside, and notice he didn't follow you. A small sigh of relief fell from your lips.

Why was he so insistent on being around you? The way he made you feel was this tiny, vulnerable thing, and that wasn't what you wanted. You didn't even know how to express that, and the police were out of the question. Your hair on your neck would stand on end, would make your dreams weird, and any noise or knock on your door sent sheer panic through your veins. But today, you weren't going to let that bother you.

After you finished your croissant and decide to head to a few stores, the book store being your first stop, looking for anything interesting. The only thing interesting was the cashier who decided he wanted to flirt with you. You ended up buying something anyway, some Anne Rice book. Heading out with a new book and his number.

After your book shop adventure, you had decided you needed some new leggings. Your favorite store was just a little way down. Stepping in, you look around and smile, shooting a wave to the cashier, and start to browse. You let your day proceed without any worry.

Hannibal had been sitting outside, watching yet not. At this point, it was more of a routine for him. Reading his paper, he had turned the page, reading the obituaries. Chuckling a tiny bit, he looked down at the end of the page and back up to spot that you had left, and he watched you walk away.

Standing up, he folded his paper, sticking it under his arm, looking both ways before crossing the street. Looking up at your building, he makes his way inside and up to your apartment floor; looking at the door, he smirks as he reaches into his pocket and picks his way in.

Closing the door softly behind him, he locks it and finds himself in your kitchen. Taking it upon himself to do your dishes in the sink, a cup, and a small plate. Placing them on the drying rack, he drys his hands off on the hand towel on the stove and puts it back.

Looking around your apartment, he walks further in, observing the odds and ends, your writing on the open notebook by your computer, the photos on the wall. As he continues to walk through your home, he finds your bedroom. Looking over the bed, neatly made, your medications and vitamins sitting on the bedside table. Picking up a few bottles, he arches his brow and places them back down.

His fingertips graze the blanket on your bed as he makes his way to your closet. He stops and watches out the window for a moment. Watching the people outside as they argued, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. His right hand reached out and opened your closet door. Looking at the drab colors of clothing, he closed it.

Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom. Looking over the various odds and ends, your makeup, your face wash, your towels, how neat and tidy your bathroom was. He departed from the bathroom heading back to the living room. Hannibal sat in a corner near no windows and sat there, waiting for you to come home.

Looking at your phone, you decide it was time to head home. 11:06pm was what was read. You catch a cab, and the cab brings you home. Paying your fair and climb out of your car and make your way inside.

Unlocking your door, you walk in, close the door behind you. Deciding to go do your dishes after putting everything down, and notice they were already done. Maybe I already did them. You tell yourself you shrug it off and walk into your bedroom and strip down, throwing on a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and a loose oversized tank top.

Heading to your living room, you turn on a desk lamp and open your laptop and take a seat. Looking at the bright screen as it powers back on from sleeping, you let out a soft breath. Looking over the screen, you type in your passcode and rub your face leaning back.

You hear a clearing of a throat, and you gasp. Looking around spooked, you see this pair of eyes in the corner of the room; you rub your face again. You are hoping that you imagined things, but that wasn't the case. Hannibal was really here, really sitting in your living room waiting for you.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home?" You growl, standing up.

"Sit down, Y/N. Don't get too loud."

"No, you don't have the right to order me around. Get the fuck out!"

"Don't be hasty, Y/N, take a seat, talk to me." He pleads.

You shake your head and ball your hands into little fists of anger and clench your jaw. "I said, get out!" You yell.

"I told you not to get loud." He gently stated, standing up.

"I DON'T CARE! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE IN MY HOME! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" You scream.

"And tell them what? You saw a strange man in your home? With what you take every day, they won't believe that. Especially if they find no one in your home. So think wisely, Y/N." You didn't like his tone, it was condescending, and it seemed snooty, and you wanted to smack the look right off his face.

"Fuck you, GET OUT!" You scream again.

Shaking his head, he looks at you, "I warned you. I just wanted to merely talk. You wouldn't even give me that. I just want your company." His tone was gentle, soft, and dark at the same time. It was like his eyes went black. He stepped closer to you, and you grew nervous.

Looking at him, watching as he approaches you, your nerves got the better of you. You went running towards your bedroom, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you close to him as he covered your mouth. You try to bite his hand, but he was quick to prepare for that.

You stomp on his foot, and his knee buckles a moment, but by the time you go to slam your door, he is right at your heels. His hand slammed against the door, pushing his way in, locking it behind him. He stands here, looking over you as you back yourself against the wall. He towers over you, looking deep into your eyes.

"I warned you, Y/N. You really would have wished you listened by the time I'm done with you." Hannibal tells you.

394 notes · View notes

hawkss-whore · 3 years

Text

(pic credit: viol_vrt on twt)

At Home Meal (NSFW 18+)

You felt like surprising Hawks today. So you spent hours cooking a nice meal and getting ready. You cleaned the house and set candles around the house. You put on a nice red skin tight dress with your hair up in a ponytail with curls. You didn't put on too much makeup, just a bit of mascara, eye shadow, and lip gloss. You were getting nervous the closer the time came for Hawks to get home. You were looking at your phone constantly, checking the time over and over. Then you heard keys nearby, he was home.

Hawks: Hey babybird, today was a long day-

Hawks just stands at the door looking at you

Y/n: What? Is something wrong?

Hawks: Did- Did you do all of this for me baby?

Y/n: Yeah, I just thought we deserved some romance, we haven't had much of it lately. Do you like it or is it too much? Sorry I just wanted it to be special but I guess I kind of went overboard, I even wore this nice dress but maybe I should have worn something more simple. I'm sorry-

Hawks: No no babybird. I love it. This is amazing, and you look so sexy in that dress like wow. I mean you always look sexy but damn babybird, what did I do to deserve someone like you. This is beautiful, it's perfect.

You sigh, okay good at least he didn't think I was going overboard. You felt yourself relax as the most stressful part already passed. He said he loved it, that's all that mattered.

You both ate the meal you cooked for him. It felt nice, finally being able to be with him. Even if it wasn't at some fancy restaurant, everything felt perfect like if it was a dream, a dream come true. You both laughed and joked around while you ate. It felt like that teenage love, the one where the possibilities are endless and where anything is possible. God you loved him so much. You wished this moment would never end. As you both finished your meal you got up to start washing the dishes and cleaning. As you're starting to wash dishes Hawks comes up behind you and grabs your hips, pulling you towards him.

Y/n: Hawks, stop that. I need to clean up.

Hawks: *he whispers in your ear* The dishes can wait. I'm in the mood for dessert baby

Y/n: Dessert? From where? I didn't make any, wait I can go to the store and buy us some cake or ice cream, Dessert?? How could I forget!

Hawks: *giggles* You are just so adorable aren't you feather? God sometimes I don't know how that innocent little brain of yours ended up falling for me

Y/n: What are you talking abou-

Hawks: *growls in your ear* You're my dessert baby, you and that tasty, soft, sexy body of yours. I want to eat it all up. I wanna taste every inch of you. And it's not fair if only I have dessert, so why don't we both serve each other on a platter and dig in. You like the sound of that baby?

Y/n: I- Right now? Are you sure? Bu-

Hawks kisses you roughly before you can finish your sentence

Hawks: Cmon babybird, let's do less talking and more kissing

Hawks picks you up and sets you on the island in the kitchen. He starts kissing your neck while leaving small hickies behind. God it felt so good. You started breathing fast and moaning softly. I hate how good he is at making me melt in his hands.

Hawks: Already aroused babybird? We haven't even started *chuckles*

Ugh, you hated how much he teased you. But at the same time, you loved it so much. And speaking of teasing, he started to trail his finger, from your chest, to your stomach, to just above your panties. You tensed up. You knew what was coming next.

Hawks: Oh am I getting too close? Do you want me to keep going or to stop here?

You hated when he did that, he knew you wanted him to keep going but he wanted to tease you. He always wanted you to beg for the thing both of you knew you wanted. You let out soft moans, maybe he'll accept that as a yes.

Hawks: I need you to tell me you want it babybird, I wanna hear you say you want my fingers in you

Fuck, you were growing desperate, he was right there why couldn't he just do it? It was starting to stress you out. You NEEDED him to put his fingers inside you. So you did what he said.

Y/n: Please, finger me daddy. Please I beg you, I need your fingers inside me. I'm desperate for your touch.

Hawks: *grins* That's more like it babybird

He starts fingering you. You try to hold back the moans, but it's so hard. He starts with one finger then not long after slides a second one in. God it felt so good. He kisses your neck as he continues to finger you. You are struggling to keep yourself under control, to keep yourself from screaming from satisfaction.

Hawks: Aww cmon songbird. Let me hear that beautiful song of yours. I wanna hear every single note. I want to know that you like this. Doesn't matter who hears, I won't stop till you scream my name as your cumming.

Fuck. You knew he was serious. He wouldn't let you cum until you were screaming his name. What if the neighbors hear? How would they look at me? God that would be so embarrassing. But we can worry about that when it happens, because right now I don't think I could be quiet even if I tried to. God this man knows how to use his fingers.

Your moans started to escape your mouth, they spilled out of your mouth as you stopped trying to hold them back. You were so loud they probably heard you outside. But you didn't care, because you felt so good right now.

Hawks: God baby you are so sexy. I think I want a taste of that. Don't mind if I do.

Hawks starts kissing you, slowly making his way down to where his fingers were. You twitched the closer his mouth got to its destination. You waited, he was taking his time on purpose. You wanted to just push his head down to speed up the process, but you knew it'd be worse for you than him if you did that. So you waited for what felt like a lifetime. Of course, he can't do anything without teasing you first.

Hawks: Do you feel how close I am babybird? Do you feel my hot breath on your inner thighs? Oh twitching? Are you that desperate for my tongue baby? Should I keep going? Or should I-

You couldn't wait anymore, you got impatient. You crossed your legs and pushed hawks face into your pussy. Cutting him off before he could even finish what he was gonna say. You might get in trouble but right now, you NEEDED his tongue in you. Whatever happens later, whatever punishment you get doesn't matter. Right now you needed this.

Hawks: Wow songbird, awfully needy aren't you? I'll let it slide this one time. I love how desperate you are for my touch. I love that right now, i'm the only one who can get you to cum. So, don't mind if I do.

He continues to tongue fuck you, it felt so good. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. Wow that man sure can use his tongue for something more useful than talking. You couldn't contain yourself. You were struggling to stay still. This gave Hawks more confidence, knowing you were falling apart right in front of him because of what he was doing.

Y/n: I- I'm going to cum

Hawks: Oh are you now songbird? Then let's speed the process up shall we?

Y/n: Yes, please daddy make me cum. I beg you. I'm so close. Please jus-

You came. It felt amazing. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. You were struggling to breathe. Wow that was just amazing. You felt like every bit of energy was just drained from you.

Hawks: Oh kid, were not done here. That was just the beginning.

Hawks picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. You were so tired. But I still wanted more. You wanted to feel every part of his body on you. You wanted to return the favor and make him feel good.

Hawks: Now, how about we shut that mouth of yours with my cock

He didn't let you answer. He quickly picked you up. You were now standing in 69 position.

Hawks: Now, why don't you suck my cock with that pretty face of yours feather?

You do. You start sucking his dick. You use both hands as well. You want to show him what you can really do. You can hear him moaning. It felt so good knowing he was moaning because of you. You feel his breathing against your inner thighs, no he can't be serious. He starts tongue fucking you again.

Y/n: Hawks no. I can't take it. I already cummed once I can't take anymor-

You were cut off by your own moans escaping from your mouth

Hawks: This is punishment for forcing me to eat you out like that earlier. Don't get me wrong it turned me on but i'd like to do things at my pace. You didn't actually think i'd let it slide now did you babybird? Even a bird brain would know that. Wow look at that, still dripping wet. Let me clean that up for you

Fuck! You knew he wasn't gonna let it slide. But god was it so hot. You sucking his dick while he's eating your pussy. The room was filled with moans.

Not long after, you were both on the verge of orgasming. Then, it happened. You both orgasmed at the same time. Wow did it feel amazing. You both were out of breath, struggling to breathe.

Hawks: Wow songbird, didn't know you had that in you. Now, how about I put something else in that pussy of yours huh?

Y/n: O-okay

Hawks: Do you not want me to kid? Cause to me it sounds like you don't want me to. I won't give you something you don't want. So if you do want it, beg. Beg for me to fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow.

Why does he always have to tease? It's so annoying. But boy does he look so hot when he does. The dominance. Knowing he could do anything and that you were his and only his. Ugh he was just so damn sexy and irresistible.

Y/n: Yes daddy. Please f- fuck my pussy. Fuck me so hard that I can't walk. Please, I beg you.

Hawks: That's more like it

He throws you on the bed and quickly climbs on top of you. And without hesitation, he puts his cock inside of you. You flinch at first, but god did it feel good. It was pain and pleasure at the same time. You thought to yourself, I can't orgasm 3 times, I will lose my mind.

Hawks: How do you like that babybird? Why don't you sing me that song of yours again. I wanna hear it echoing through the room. I wanna hear you screaming baby, won't you do that for daddy?

Y/n: *shaky breath* Y- yes D- daddy

Hawks: That's a good songbird. I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk. I'm gonna have to carry you everywhere after this. I am gonna destroy you kid.

Oh it was so hot when he was dominant. When he spoke about destroying you. Wow, you were struggling to even think straight at this point. You were a mess, the mascara running down your face, you drooling and struggling to breathe. It was all a beautiful mess.

You were both about to cum again. You can tell he was because you felt his cock pulsating like it did when he was about to cum. And he could tell you were too, he felt your pussy tightening around his cock as you got close to your orgasm.

Hawks: Aww fuck babybird! I can feel it, you need to cum too right? Well cum, cum for daddy. Let's cum together kid. God, I'm so close! I-

And just like that, You both cummed at the same time again. You were so tired, you quickly felt your limbs fall. That was a wild ride. You felt so good.

Hawks: FUCK BABYBIRD! You sure know how to milk a cock dry. How did I get so lucky with such a beautiful girl who has such a sexy body? I just wanna kiss every single part of that sweet body of yours. But right now, I think we're both pretty tired out. I know I am.

Y/n: Yeah. But what about the dishes, we left everything out I should go clean it up-

Hawks: Shhh we can do that tomorrow babybird, right now I just want to cuddle you. I want to hold you and play with your hair. You deserve some love after what you just did cause wow baby, you were amazing. I love you for more than just your body, you know that right kid?

Y/n: I know

Hawks: I want you to know that I don't need sex, sure its definitely a plus being able to have sex with you. But I don't need it. What I need is you, your love, your hugs, your smile, your laugh, that's what I need from you. All of that is better than sex. Now, come get closer, let me hold you babybird

You scoot over to hawks side of the bed. You lay on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat, it's not racing as fast as it was before. Yours still was, I mean I did orgasm 3 times. I don't even know how i'm holding myself together right now.

Hawks tells you as he lightly scratches your back

Hawks: I love you kid. And I know I already said it but I will say it a million more times if I have to. You really are the most important person to me baby, I never wanna lose you. Now, let's get some sleep okay baby. Just relax, I'm here, by your side. And I will be here by your side, for the rest of forever.

He kisses your forehead. You felt so safe. I wish everyday was like this. Not the rough sex, although I wouldn't mind it. But being here, in his arms. It's a feeling I can't explain. It's a feeling I never wanna forget.

In just a few minutes you both ended up falling asleep. Well, another wild day has come to an end. Ugh I love him so much. I don't think I could ever find someone like him again.

#hawks mha #keigo takami #hawks fanfic #mha fanfiction #hawks x y/n #mha hawks #hawks x you #bnha keigo

34 notes · View notes

atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Sweet Sugar

3 | Cruel Summer

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: swear words, underage drinking (not much tho, nothing descritive and nothing like “Skins” lmao), suggestive scenes in some chapters, not smut!! but minors be aware. Fluff/angst/drama/ Y/n and Tom being stupid teenagers with feelings.

words: 1.6

a/n: english it's not my first language, Sorry for any mistakes! If you want to be tag on the next chapters, please let me know

Summary: Y/n, Harrison and Tom has always been best friends. Since childhood they’ve always been close, but what happens if after a break up with her first boyfriend, she starts to feel something more about Tom?

PART 3! If you want to read the other parts click here

Don’t forget to check out the playlist by @petesrparker created for the series! here

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

After a few minutes of crying I felt someone approaching and sitting beside me. I looked up, wiping my eyes, and saw a worried-looking Haz in front of me.

- What happened? Are you okay? I noticed you were missing from the dance floor. - he asked and wrapped one of his arms around me hugging me sideways.

- I’m okay Haz, I think I just got sick, that's all, it must have been the drink.

- Y/n... as you said: I know you from other life, and you didn't even drink much, now tell me, why are you crying? - I hated when he insisted like that, but it was fair, after all he was my brother at heart.

- Haz... I don't want to talk about it, it's so immature I don't even know how to explain it to you, I think it was just something of the moment.

- Did some idiot hurt you? Because I can go back there and...

- No! Nobody did any harm, it's okay... - I said, wiping some tears that insisted on falling.

- Y/n please tell me, I swear I won't tell anyone. You're not one to cry like that...

- I saw Tom kissing Meghan and I felt bad, ok? - I interrupted him, looking at the ground with shame that I had admitted that out loud.

Haz was silent for an infinite number of minutes, processing what I had just said, until he touched my shoulder, I looked at him and I could see the confusion in his eyes.

- Since when do you like Tom that way?

- I don't know the exact date, I just... I started to feel different about him a while after I broke up with Steven... But I think it's just something temporary, you know? Maybe because he is my best friend and treats me well, I ended up having a crush on him, I think that was it, but it will pass, I just need to distract myself with something else...

- Y/n are you sure it's something temporary? Well, I'm your best friend too and you never felt that way about me.

- Yeah, but I always saw you as my brother and Tom as my best friend... I can't explain it, I just know it's different, it always has been, but I'm sure this stronger feeling must be temporary, I just need some time.

- Darling... I'm so sorry. How about we go home? We can watch tv shows and forget about it.

- Are you sure Haz? You were talking to Gracie, I don't want to take you out of the party like that, especially from the side of your other half who I know one day you two will get married, live in a cabin in the woods, have several children and I'll be godmother to them. - I said and Haz laughed and I followed. Laughing after crying is one of the best feelings.

- Damn, you created a whole fanfic. - He said and now I wiped the tears of laughter. - But seriously, we can go, it's already midnight. - He said looking at the watch on his wrist - I'm just going to tell Gracie, so she doesn't think I forget about her and say that you're not feeling well and want to go home, how about that?

- Okay... but only because I'm feeling like crap. - I said pouting and he kissed my head hugging me tight.- I'll be right back, madam.

Haz then got up and went back inside and I took the opportunity to text my mother saying I would be at the Osterfields' house and she sent me an ok.

It took a few minutes and he came back waving for me to join him. I got up, going after him in the parking lot, as he didn’t drink, because he came with his car. We walked in, turning on the radio, and we heard Taylor Swift's Cruel Summer start to play, how ironic.

- Did Tom say something about us leaving? - I asked looking at him.

- No, actually he was busy... but I told Tuwaine and Gracie. - Haz said stopping at the red light.

-Hmm- I sighed trying not to imagine what Tom could be "busy" with. - And Gracie wasn't upset?

- No, I said it was an emergency and she understood. - He smiled in my direction squeezing my hand and I smiled.

- Thank you Haz, I don't know what it would be without you.

- I know, I'm awesome. - He spoke blinking.

- Oh god, I can't even try to say something nice for once. - I said rolling my eyes - But you're really awesome. - and he blew me a kiss in the air and I gave him a laugh shaking my head.

We arrived at Haz's house and Jenna welcomed me with open arms as usual.

We went to Haz's room and I helped him pull up and make the bed besides his own and he gave me a pair of pajamas that I could wear. I went into the bathroom and took off my defeat-smudged makeup and came back lying next to Haz on the top bed as we turned on the tv to a random show that was on. But, of course, we don't pay any attention, because we are talking the whole time.

-... So, Gracie said she liked my eyes a lot, and I didn't know what to do. - He said while we discussed the events of the night, ignoring Tom and company.

- Aww Hazzy, what a cute little cliché. - I said making a melted face. - And you didn't say anything?

- I just said thank you and I said hers were beautiful too, but I got nervous, that's when I realized you were gone and I went after you.

- Wow, I can't believe I ruined this perfect moment.

- Nah, don't even worry, I have all the time in the world, in fact she's from my class, so we still have a lot of opportunity to talk. - he said and I nodded yawning.

- Let's go to sleep? It's almost 3 in the morning. - He said turning off the TV and I gave a thumbs up scratching my eyes.

I jumped down to the bottom bed and covered myself, turning to the other side.

- Haz?

- Yeah?

- If you tell Thomas anything I'll kill you and desert you. - I said listening to him laugh and fell asleep right away.

********************************

The other day I woke up and looked to the side, seeing that Haz was still sleeping. I picked up my cell phone, stretching, and saw that it was almost noon. I got up quietly making sure that I was not making too much noise, went into the bathroom and put on my clothes from the night before. I needed to go home to take a shower and take the rest of that weird night.

I sat next to Haz nudging him until he blinked awake.

- Haz, I'm going, thanks for everything. - I said while he was returning to planet earth little by little.

- Already? Don't you want to have lunch first? - He said sitting on the bed.

- Thanks, but I need to go home, I have some work to finish too, see you tomorrow at school?

- Okay, but if you need anything call me. - He said and I agreed hugging him going towards the door.

- And promise you'll keep your mouth shut?

- I swear, cross my heart. -He said zipping his mouth and I pointed my index finger at him intimidating him.

I went downstairs and thanked Jenna, greeting Charlotte who had already woken up. I said goodbye to them and went out into the sun on a Sunday that I was miraculously doing in London. I walked home, went in, had lunch and went straight to my room, I wanted to stay in alone with my feelings. Was my period coming up? It's not possible that I'm feeling so bad.

I took a shower, changed into comfortable clothes and fell into bed, putting on some sad music to play, closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the sadness.

A few minutes later I felt my cell phone vibrate with a message coming through.

I unlocked the screen and saw "Tommy 🤓 send you a message" written. I took a deep breath and opened it to look at what he had sent.

Tommy 🤓 says "Hi stranger! Why did you and Haz disappear yesterday? 😭"

Tommy 🤓 says "Tuwaine told me you weren't okay, I tried calling you guys and nothing..."

Tommy 🤓 says "Is everything alright?"

I rolled my eyes reading the messages and at the same time not wanting to respond, but started typing.

Y/N 🌻 says "Everything it’s okay, don’ worry 😊 I think some drink went wrong and I felt a little sick, but nothing to worry about, rlx"

Y/N 🌻 says "The party was great! Too bad I couldn't stay longer..."

I think I was a good liar.

Tommy 🤓 says "Damn it, but I'm glad you're ok, the party was really great! I've already posted the photos on insta. There some really weird ones... 😂"

Y/N 🌻 says "I can imagine 😂"

Tommy 🤓 says "I have a really strong hangover right now, I'm going back to sleep, want to come over later? I want to tell you some things that happened 👀"

Sure Tom, I'm going to your house so you can tell me everything about your wonderful night with Meghan, sure.

Y/N 🌻 says I'd like to, but my stomach's still kind of bad from yesterday 😭 so I'll just stay here, see you tomorrow?"

I told him to avoid him to come at my house.

Tommy 🤓 says "Okay 🥺, take care! See you tomorrow shortie!"

He said and I sent a "😘" blocking the screen. I lay on my stomach and buried my head on the pillow wanting to scream. Tom seemed happy and excited to tell me the "things" from last night, why couldn't I be happy for him? Damn feelings!

I think what I had to do was sleep, eat chocolate, put on a really cliche romantic comedy movie, wait to see if my period would come down (why was I being so dramatic? It could only be that) and pray that monday I would be better.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland friends to lovers #tom holland series

32 notes · View notes

drabblily · 4 years

Text

the end - bokuto x reader

pairing: bokuto koutarou x reader

genre: angst

warnings: growing apart, hearbreak, mention of death 😈

word count: 1637

synopsis: bokuto grows apart from you no matter how hard he tries not to. is this the end of your relationship with him?

author’s note: i feel like i didn't do him justice despite being in love with him :’) also if you see any mistakes in this, WHOOPS because i didn’t really do in-depth checking fjsabahfb

you think you started noticing the signs when he cancelled on you for the first time. your extremely clingy boyfriend who somehow always made time for you told you he “was busy.” at first, you understood. he was a busy person in general, with volleyball and such, so of course you couldn't be mad at him for it, he had his life and you had yours.

but then you started noticing the little things, how his golden eyes zoned out when you were talking, how he seemed moody every time he came to see you, how he didn’t share your excitement whenever you were talking about the things that made you happy that day.

it was odd, how everything about him slowly changed around you. when he usually was the happiest around you, it started to feel like a burden to see or be with you. and you knew it wasn’t because he’d been having a rough day because whenever you came to visit him at his practices, you watched as his eyes were bright and how he laughed oh so loudly. yet, when he turned and caught sight of you, you saw how his wide grin faltered and his laughs came to a stop. you were pretty sure you saw him sigh at one point.

you knew what was happening to your relationship with the owl-like male, you both knew. it wasn’t something either of you could deny, it was as clear as day. he was growing apart from you, getting tired of you and this relationship. but, neither of you addressed this, almost as if you two were ignoring the topic because neither of you wanted to admit that your 2 year relationship would not be making it to it’s 3rd.

the last straw was when you and bokuto decided to go out with your small friend group, deciding to go separately and meet up there because he wanted to hang out with kuroo, kenma, and akaashi before the night started. you agreed, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and went back to doing your makeup for later. he threw you a small goodbye and you heard the door to your apartment close. your thoughts went back to the kiss you shared with him 10 seconds ago, well, not really shared to be honest. your hand touched your mouth, recognizing how he didn't kiss you back and left so quickly.

feeling a familiar fluid well up in your eyes, you dabbed at them with a small tissue, not wanting to ruin your hard work with some silly tears. it was nothing to be concerned about, you told yourself, you’d talk about it later with him in private and hopefully figure out a solution that would help repair your broken relationship.

forty-five or so minutes passed by and you were finished, already in your small car and driving to the restaurant you’d be hanging out at. you had gotten a text from your girlfriends that they were about to arrive there soon, which by soon they probably meant 30 minutes soon. you smiled at the small thought of your friends as you pulled into the parking lot near the joint. by now, you thought, bokuto and his best friends would be done with whatever they were doing and should be expecting for the rest of the group to arrive soon, including yourself.

exiting your vehicle, you locked it and began to make your way to the entrance, looking both ways before crossing the road to make your way to the eatery. when you opened the door to the building, you felt a rush of cool air brush against your face, feeling yourself become calm at the temperature (which was weird that you were nervous in the first place, you never have been so worked up over a simple hang-out.)

flexing your clammy hands, you made your way throughout the building to the table you and your friends usually sat at--which was a booth right around the corner. you don't really know why sitting here had become a tradition but it did, and it was perfect to you. however, right before you could turn that same corner, you heard your boyfriend’s loud laughter come to a stop and his voice speak your name.

“y/n? she’s…” you could hear bokuto sigh tiredly, “doing fine, i guess.”

“what do you mean you guess? aren’t you her boyfriend?” akaashi asked curiously, noticing how his close friend’s mood lowered at the mention of your name.

“no, no, i mean she’s doing great! and about the boyfriend thing...i don't know anymore. i love her, man, at least i think i do? but lately it just feels like a chore seeing her, you know? i just feel like i want to take a break with her though, or hell, maybe even break up with her? i dont know...it’s not fair to her for me to keep cancelling without any explanation. like she kissed me before i left her house and i couldn’t even return it! er--well more like i didn’t want to return it?”

“shit bro, that took a turn i didn’t expect, but for sure with taking a break at least. even we could tell how you suddenly went all gloomy and shit when we brought her up.” you heard a vibration against the table, probably a text, “oh looks like the girls are about to come in. remember what we talked about, man. can’t have my favorite bro this sad--no offense kenma, you know you’re my bestie~” kuroo teased, followed by his iconic cackle and a groan coming out from the faux blonde’s mouth.

“yeah yeah! just, make sure not to tell y/n about this, okay? i’m not ready for that conversation yet…anyways!” his hands slammed on the table, “i’m gonna use the restroom! i gotta peeeeee”

normally you would’ve laughed at how he unnecessarily dragged out words, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything. not talk, not laugh, not even move when bokuto bumped into you when he turned the corner.

“hey hey hey!! baby? you’re here already? hey, why are you crying, birdie?” bokuto gulped nervously, worried that you had heard everything he said, moving your hair out of your face to look at you more clearly.

as if finally processing everything, you flinched away from him, frantically wiping away at your tears pathetically, “d-don’t call me that kou, what...what do you mean by what yo-you said? you don’t love me? y-you don't want to kiss me anymore? what does that mean?” you stammered out, feeling a sob rack through your body.

“birdie…”

“stop! don’t call me that if you don’t mean it...please…” you begged, your hands shaking and your bottom lip quivering, attempting to bite on it to stop it.

bokuto’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling a lump in his throat and occasional tears falling down his cheeks. he always hated seeing you cry, to see you so sad, and yet here he was being the cause of your distress.

“why couldn’t you talk to me about this? why did you have to distance yourself more and more instead of confronting me? was this because of me? please tell me so i can fix myself...because i don't want to lose you, bo…” your eyes searched his face desperately for answers, for anything.

bokuto took a step towards you, uncaring of the attention you two had gotten yourselves, “no! it’s not because of you, i swear...it’s not you, it's me.”

a sharp laugh came out of your mouth, amused at the cliche that you thought only existed in those movies you watched, “don’t say that. you know how much i hate that…”

“bir--y/n...i love you…”

you inhaled, pursing your lips together and looking deep into those yellow eyes of his, “you love me...but you're not in love with me, is what you meant, right?”

bokuto opened his mouth to speak, to deny and say that wasn’t true, yet no words came out. for some reason, he couldn’t lie to you like that, because it was true, what you said. he tried so hard to make himself fall back in love, but all his efforts were for nothing. that spark he felt two years ago was no longer there, no matter what he did.

“so it-it’s true?” you questioned, wanting him so badly to say you were acting crazy and kiss you, “you...you’re not in love with me anymore? is this the end of us?”

he watched your figure back up more, nodding your head with a pained expression gracing your pretty features, hearing a small whimper leave your lips, “you know, for a man who loves to talk you sure are quiet...so i’m gonna take your silence as a yes. i should probably hate you right now...i want to hate you for this. but even now i can't help but love you. isn’t that sad…?”

before he could reply, you spared him one last glance with tear stained cheeks and a broken heart, shaking your head lightly in disappointment and turning away. you didn’t hear him come after you. you didn’t hear him call out for you either. you did feel the familiar cool air at the entrance, your friends coming in at that exact same moment, smiles immediately dropping at the sight of you. you felt guilty, pushing past them with no explanation and out into the street to make your way to your car.

it's funny how the crying blurred your eyes so much that you forgot to look both ways before you crossed the road, something you were taught to do at a young age. but in the end, all you could hear was a loud beep and then blackness flooded your vision.

taglist: @igenll

120 notes · View notes

managedmischiefs · 4 years

Text

north//chapter ten

genre: angst

pairing: season ten spencer reid x female oc

warnings: panic attack, talk of maeve and that whole situation, death, mention of drugs and relapse

word count: 9.8k

summary: spencer gets to see another part of amelia’s ugly side and amelia gets more than she bargained for when she steps onto her balcony

also i just wanted to say that the panic attack described in this chapter is based off of my experience with panic attacks. nobody has the same experience, but this is based off mine. also part two, i don’t know how medication for panic attacks really work, what i wrote is literally based off my experience with migraine medication. so if it’s not accurate, then i apologize. i also apologize for taking so long to write this. school was a lot and my mental health sucks. but it’s here now!! enjoy

AMELIA

"Yaz, if you don't stop moving, I'm going to purposely poke your fucking eye out!"

"It's not my fault! Quinn keeps nudging me!"

"No, I'm not!"

I roll my eyes at the two girls in front of me, flicking my wrist to put the final touches on Yaz’s makeup. "You two need to shut up." I then grab Quinn’s shoulders and force her to move against the wall, right next to Yaz. They continue to quietly bicker with each other.

"So," Frankie speaks up from across my studio, lounged back in a bean bag chair, fiddling away with a camera of his own, "Lia, you're coming up on one year with your genius doctor FBI boyfriend, right?"

"Mhm," I hum, too focused on painting my friends' bodies to give a full and coherent answer.

"Do you guys have plans yet? Dinner? Movie? I don't even know what you guys do as dates. In fact, I don't really know much about this guy at all. Are we even sure he exists?" Michael teases, waving around his bottle of beer. Quinn squirms away from my grasp to take a sip of his beer and only comes back when I tug on her hand.

"No plans yet," I mumble, biting my tongue for a moment as I focus on getting the swirls of blue and yellow just right. If the painting isn’t absolutely perfect then I’ll never be happy with the way the pictures come out. And if I’m not happy with the pictures that come from today then that just means I wasted my time today. "We don't make plans in advance, really. His job doesn't allow for that."

"His job doesn't allow for that?" Dani scoffs. "Stupid excuse. Horrible excuse. Men are trash. How can you be sure that all the time he’s spending ‘at work’ and not with another girl? Or maybe another guy? I don’t know, I don’t judge. Maybe he’s-"

"Dani," I hiss, twisting my head to send her a pointed look, "he's an FBI agent. He hunts down serial killers for a living. He travels for work on a whim and it’s not a big deal. He’s not gay and it’s rude to speculate about someone’s sexuality, especially if you’ve never met them."

"But don't you want him around him more?" Frankie jumps up from his seat and throws his arm around my shoulder, effectively pulling away from my work. He thinks that grabbing me will diffuse the situation, bring some humor, keep me from getting too upset. But it actually does all the opposite and I can feel a ball of heat growing and swelling in my stomach.

I’ve been friends with this bunch since college. We all went to Carnegie Mellon together and even lived in a house together in junior and senior year, but they aren’t always the best of friends. Clearly. They can be quite judgemental and exclusive when it comes to people outside of our friend group. Jenna and I commonly find ourselves sharing looks across rooms when one of our friends says something rude or stupid. They’re not the best, but we’ve been through so much together and they are all I have.

I push Frankie away from me as best as I can. "Do you guys just not like him because he's a federal agent?" The room goes silent and that's enough of an answer for me. I scoff, moving across the room to grab some more paint and squirt it into my palette. I wind up putting too much on my palette and groan, screwing off the top of the paint tube and trying to scoop the extra paint back in. The longer I try, the less gets back inside the tube and the more my frustration starts to grow, the more tears well up in my eyes. "You're complaining about my boyfriend who you've never met just because he works for the FBI. Ridiculous. Unfair."

"We get arrested all the time and all we do is spray paint empty brick walls," Dani protests, and, again, judging by the silence of the others in the room, I know that they have no problems with what Dani is saying. "It's bullshit! We should be able to express ourselves creatively without having to do art in the middle of the night and worry about being thrown in a holding cell."

"First of all; express yourself creatively on a canvas, not on someone’s property. Second; I can promise that you’re not getting arrested by federal agents. You’re getting arrested by cops and my boyfriend is not a cop," I growl at my supposed friends. I don't get angry easily. In fact, I'm a very patient person and I've been told that by many people on many occasions. My first instinct is to never get mad. Anger doesn’t get anyone anywhere. I prefer to have conversations instead of screaming matches and to hear out the other side's argument. But this is different. This is Spencer we’re talking about. I love Spencer more than anything and since meeting him, I know I'd do anything to protect him, even if that means arguing with my friends on his behalf. It’s not fair for them to be making these judgments about him. "You get arrested by Virginia Police so if you wanna hate anyone then hate them. Don't you dare all go hating my boyfriend for no reason. Don't hate him when you've never met him."

I throw my palette onto a table, not caring about paint splatter, and grab my phone, leaving my studio and heading into the fresh air. My heart is pounding against my tightening chest as I lean against the brick wall and slide down to an incredibly uncomfortable crouching position, tucking my head between my knees. The stance almost instantly makes my back ache and my neck sting but I ignore it. Maybe I deserve the pain. My breathing quickly gets more and more shallow and my head goes light. I try to lift my head to bring sunlight into my eyes, but my head seems far too heavy to move. I reach for my phone and it slips right out of my fingers when they tremble too much for me to get a grip on the thin metal. This feeling is helpless, painful, too familiar. I can’t seem to get a grasp on myself and I’m spiraling out of control more and more by the second. Every gasp for breath turns into a sob and every attempt to move my head turns into overwhelming shame when I notice people passing by are staring at me and whispering.

It's almost perfect that my phone starts to buzz on the ground and I manage to open my eyes enough to see that Spencer is calling me. I attempt another deep breath to calm myself down but it doesn't work and it only makes my grip on reality dwindle. It's getting harder to breathe and my eyes are stinging with tears. With every pounding beat of my heart, my chest gets tighter and tighter and tighter until it feels like someone has successfully squeezed my lungs flat.

The buzzing of my phone should bring me back to reality but it just makes it worse. It’s an annoying, persistent sound that just won’t stop. It won’t stop. It just won’t stop. I want to answer, I need to answer, but I just wish the sound would stop. The way to get it to stop is to answer. Just answer. It’ll stop if you answer. You’ll feel better if you answer. I slam my hand down on the ground and grope the floor until I manage to grab my phone and bring it up to my ear.

"Hi, love," Spencer's chipper voice comes through the receiver, none the wiser to my current situation. He's been away on a case since early yesterday morning, having woken me up while getting dressed, kissing me goodbye, and leaving my apartment to get to the BAU. I would kill to have him here right now. Maybe he could talk me down and reteach me how to breathe. Maybe he could reinflate my lungs and kiss my hands until they stop trembling.

I try to answer, but nothing coherent comes out. I let out a strangled sob, my fingernails digging into my knee so hard that I worry I might draw blood. My inability to communicate is frustrating and that ball of heat in my stomach rises up to my chest. The trembling overpowers me and I almost drop my phone again.

"Amelia? What's wrong? Are you okay? Talk to me," Spencer says quickly, and it's only followed by more choked wheezes from me. "You've gotta breathe, okay? Take really deep breaths for me. In through your nose and out from your mouth.”

His instructions seem simple enough to do. Just breathe. That’s all I have to do. It’s simple. Just breathe. I open my mouth to try to speak to him, to tell him what’s happening, even though I’m pretty sure he can tell, but all that comes out is fragments of words and whimpers.

"It’s okay, you’re okay. You don’t need to speak. In through your nose, out from your mouth, remember? Can you try that for me?" I’m not sure how long I’m sitting there for, on the phone, trying to focus on my boyfriends’ voice as he tries to calm me down. It feels like I’m sitting for a few hours, but my tiny grasp on reality lets me know that it’s been ten minutes at the most. I just do what I can to focus on Spencer and what he is telling me to do and how I can calm down. I clench my fists and finally succeed in doing what he tells me to after a while, breathing heavily in through my nose, my chest burning as the heaving comes to a gradual stop. I breathe out and then repeat the process a few times. “There you go. You’re doing so well. I’m right here for you, okay? Take all the time you need.”

He continues to tell me sweet nothings and encourages me to breathe until my breathing has regulated and my head lays slack against my knees. Spencer lets just a few moments of silence go by to let me collect myself before he speaks again. “Are you feeling a little better now?” I gather enough energy, the last of it, to hum a confirmation. "Where are you right now?" Spencer asks next. Even just his voice calms me down. Maybe it's his experience with his job but he sounds so calm right now. Nobody in my life has ever been able to remain so calm during one of my panic attacks, leaving me to cry and heave and occasionally faint in private. But Spencer's voice sounds so soothing and calm and low that just him speaking helps me more than anything. More than any useless, overwhelming, smothering hug ever has.

"Studio.”

"Okay. You should get home and get some rest. "

"Mhm.”

"You shouldn't drive. I don't know if you did, but either way, please don't drive. Take the train or call someone to drive you home," Spencer pleads. "I was calling to tell you that we're on our way home. We closed the case and we're leaving in a few minutes for the airport, but don't wait for me. You need to go home and get rest. Panic attacks are really taxing and you need to re-energize. I'll come over when I get back but you need to get home."

"Amelia?" I hear Jenna's voice approaching me but I don't even bother to look up. "Are you okay?"

I've exhausted my energy on speaking just those few words to Spencer so when Jenna gets close enough to me, I just lift the phone up for her. She crouches down beside me and grabs my phone, wedging it between her shoulder and her ear as she pushes my hair out of my face. I try to lean away from her touch but I can’t get very far. "Who is this? Oh, hi, Spencer. This is Jenna. She's right next to me. I can definitely bring her home. Don't worry, I'll get her home and I'll stay with her until you come around, it's no problem. I'll take her phone and let you know when I get her home. Okay, bye."

I finally lift my head and look at Jenna, watching her tuck my phone into her pocket, giving me this stupid, pitiful smile that I’ve seen far too many times in my life. A half smile that says, it sucks that you’re going through something but I only kind of care. "Mr. Genius says I gotta bring you home and keep you safe until he comes over and I don't feel like ending up in prison, so let's go, babe." I don’t have it in me to correct her to day Doctor Genius instead of Mister Genius. Jenna holds her hands out to help me up.

I bring my shaking hands up to hers and let her pull me to my feet and lead me over to her car, feeling weak and useless as she pulls the seatbelt over my chest. I pout as she dotes over me, humming casually to herself just so she can make this situation not so tense, but it just makes it seem like she doesn’t care. "Okay," Jenna says, hand poised on the passenger side door, "I'm gonna go kick everyone out of your studio and then we'll get going. Sit tight."

///

"Hi, Spencer, I'm Jenna,"

"Hi, Jenna. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping on the couch. She didn't even wanna go upstairs to bed so she asked me to put on a record and she just passed out on the couch."

Everything sounds foggy as I wake up what I assume is hours later in an uncomfortable position, curled up on my couch. My head is pounding and my eyes feel puffy and I'm now regretting not forcing myself to get into bed. I would have much rathered waking up with my duvet wrapped around me and my head on Spencer’s pillow. Waking up on this stiff couch with my toes virtually frozen and my head twisted uncomfortably on the armrest isn’t how I wanted to wake up post-panic attack.

I open my eyes just in time to see Spencer setting his go-bag down beside the coffee table, sending me that same stupid, pitiful smile. "Hi," he whispers, coming to sit on the floor in front of me. He raises his hand to drag his fingertips along my cheekbone and the soft touch makes my eyes flutter closed. I’ve gotten used to being without him when he’s away on cases, and having Spencer with me makes all the separated days easier. I know that the moments like this make up for the times I lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, because I can’t sleep if his arms around me and if I can’t hear his heartbeat. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Mm," I hum, but it's not much of an answer, not a satisfying one, at the least.

"It's good that you got some sleep but you gotta have something to eat too. Do you want me to order something?" I nod slowly at his suggestion that I couldn’t care less about. I just want his hands on me. "Okay, I will. Sit tight, I'll be right back."

A whine falls from my lips as I reach my hand out for his, hoping to keep him from leaving. I just need his touch and his love and his affection to feel better. I don’t need sleep or food or anything he could possibly suggest that helps a person relax after a panic attack, based on this study I read. I love his facts but I just want him to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it will. The boiling hot baths I usually take after a panic attack never do the trick. Nothing does the trick like physical affection does.

"Don't go," the words could barely be considered words, especially not after I mumble them through almost closed lips.

"I’m not leaving," Spencer crouches down again and presses a kiss to my forehead, and I’m sure he realizes that a kiss was the wrong move because I just keep trying to pull him closer. “I just wanna order you something to eat, okay? Let me bring you upstairs and get you in bed and then I’ll call for something. Is that okay?”

Spencer is sitting up on his knees before I even try to answer because even though he's posed a question, he doesn't need an answer. He knows how to help me from the studies he reads and he knows what needs to be done and he's relatively stubborn. So despite how my body feels heavy and how I wish I could just melt into the couch cushions with my arms wrapped around my boyfriend, I force myself to sit up. Spencer scoops me up and carries me up the stairs, setting me down in bed and tugging the duvet all the way up to my chin.

Spencer goes a bit overboard with tucking me in, but I don’t mind, as long as his hands are on me. And he is happy with his work, he finally takes off his peacoat and sets it on the edge of the bed. "I'm just gonna go run downstairs and order something and make some tea, okay? Did you take your medication?" He turns away from me and goes towards the stairs, digging his phone out of his pocket.

"Huh?"

Spencer halts himself from walking down the stairs, turning his chin over his shoulder. "Your medication," he turns his body towards me. "You know, for your panic attack?"

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowed so much that it makes my headache worse. "No, no, I don't have any."

My fuzzy brain can't exactly decipher the look on Spencer's face, but he turns his back to me yet again and rushes down the stairs. I let out a hum at his confusing reaction, but it turns into a disappointed whine as he gets further and further away from me. So, still in my post-panic attack state, I reach for Spencer's coat for some sort of comfort.

As I tug on it, something falls out of the pocket. I blindly reach for it and have every intention of tucking it back into the pocket it came from, but the cool metal of the object heightens my senses, as if the object brings me back down to earth. I hold Spencer's jacket to my chest as I lay back down against my pillows, looking down at the metal circle in my hand. There's a triangle on the front- or maybe the back?- with a Roman numeral one on it, with the words unity, service, and recovery around the three sides. I turn it over in my hand and find a compass rose with only north labeled.

"Amelia?" My head pops up when I tune into Spencer's footsteps on the last stair, his phone in his hand and his untied converse in the other. He drops his shoes on the floor and then leans against the wall, his eyes traveling down to the floor instead of on me. I can feel his shame from all the way across the room and how his embarrassment starts to consume him. He instantly shuts himself off from me and it’s so disheartening to see how easy it is for him to do so.

"It fell out," I hold it out to him, despite our distance. "What did you order?"

Spencer doesn't move as I hold the medallion out to him, but all he does is tuck his hands in his pocket and study the patterns on his socks. "You don't wanna know what it is?"

I drop my hand against the bed and sigh, having used too much energy to keep my arm up for longer than two seconds, nuzzling my cheek against Spencer's jacket and trying to get a whiff of his cologne. If he won’t come to me then I’ll have to get a piece of him in my bed, even if it’s just the scent on his jacket. I need his comfort. "I know what it is, dove."

He takes a long breath and then walks over, taking the medallion out of my hand and shoving it in his pocket. "Pizza. I'm gonna go change and I'll be right back."

I hadn't even realized he had brought his go-bag upstairs at some point, but I only see it when he carries it into the bathroom. He doesn't shut the door all the way and I find myself wondering why. Maybe he doesn't want to completely shut himself away from me because he can tell I need him close. Or maybe because he didn’t want to rebuild his emotional walls around me, and closing the bathroom door would separate us. But I don’t have the time to come to a clear and coherent hypothesis before he has returned.

He's in a tee shirt and plaid pajama pants when he returns, dropping his bag onto the floor and letting out a heavy sigh. I watch him as he walks around the bed to grab his shoes and begins the process of shoving them into his bag, even though he doesn't need to. He knows he doesn’t need to clean his stuff up immediately. But I notice his medallion in his hand, squeezed between his pointer and middle fingers, and it makes me call out to him. His head whips over to me and I realize I have nothing to say. I need him beside me but he clearly has so much going on in his head and in all the time we've been together, I've never seen his medallion. That makes me nervous. Is this why he's acting like this? Is he thinking about getting his hands on a drug that will ruin his life?

I have nothing to say. But Spencer is staring at me, waiting for me to ask whatever question he thinks I’m needing to ask, as I clutch his jacket like my life depends on it, eyes half-closed as I start to struggle to breathe again. I open my mouth but nothing comes out and a tear drips down my cheek.

Spencer moves to kneel on the bed, pulling his jacket out of my hands and replacing the fabric with his body. "Hey, I'm right here, Lia, just breathe. Sit up for me, sweetheart," He places his hands on my waist and helps me sit up, coaxing my head between my knees. He somehow knows exactly what to do, despite not being able to see me during my previous attack. He knows just how softly I need to be touched and what volume to speak at without overwhelming me. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm right here, don't worry. I don’t want you to get worked up again." I manage to nod, and he kisses my forehead as a reward. Spencer just keeps holding me and whispering praises, tucking my head under his chin and rubbing my back with a feather light touch. “There you go. There’s my girl.”

“I’m okay,” I whisper, but it’s more for myself than for him.

“Yeah, you are,” he affirms. "Will you talk to me about these attacks and how I can help you?" His sweet voice is so buttery and smooth that I get lost in it, eyes fluttering and almost completely missing his question. I just want him to keep talking, to read me poetry or tell me random facts that I’ll probably never need to know. I just want him to talk, and talk, and talk, and break me away from the prison in my mind. I just want him to distract me.

“Um,” I lean into his touch when he brings his hand into my hair, scratching me behind my ears like a cat. But when I manage to open my eyes and look at him, he’s giving me such a serious look, one that says he means business, and I know that there’s no room for jokes or wit. “I don’t know. I’ve mostly dealt with panic attacks alone. I just let them happen and wait for them to be done.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise but he quickly tries to hide his reaction, clearing his throat as a distraction, but it’s nowhere close to this distraction I had hoped for. “So you don’t know any coping mechanisms or take any medication for panic attacks?” I shake my head no. “Have you ever gone to a doctor or a therapist about this?”

Definitely not the distraction I was hoping for. I reach for the duvet and pull it over my head, deciding to ignore him. I manage to crawl out of Spencer’s lap and curl up on my pillow with my back to him, earning a defeated sigh from my boyfriend beside me. He takes a breath to speak but then the doorbell rings and I can only assume that means that dinner is here. Without a word spoken, Spencer climbs off the bed and goes to answer the door. I hear his chatting quietly with the delivery person before his sock-covered footsteps echo back up the stairs, and he returns with a pizza box.

Spencer just casually suggesting I go to a doctor or a therapist is so obnoxious and annoying and I truly can’t remember a time in our relationship when I was this mad at him. He talks as though a doctor's visit will solve all my problems and if taking a pill will turn me into the healthy, stress-free, mental illness-free girl that I want to be, but never have been, and never will be. I spent my childhood taking care of myself and my brother and I can keep doing that as an adult. I’ve gotten this far in my life, farther than I thought I would, so I’m not going to fix something that isn’t broken.

Spencer sits at the foot of the bed and sets the pizza box in the middle of the bed, not saying a word as he opens it up and separates the slices. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes as I tuck my legs underneath me. I reach for a piece of pizza and lean over the cardboard so I don't get the bed messy. If the bed gets messy and crumby then Spencer won’t be able to sleep tonight, knowing that there’s particles of food all over the duvet. He seems to be on the same train of thought because he refuses to move the piece of pizza in his hand away from the box. If I wasn’t so upset, I’d be telling him how cute he is and finding his cleanliness endearing and suggesting that we eat at the table downstairs instead of my bed. But the tension is so thick that I could cut it with a knife, and I don’t have the energy to ease it. But apparently, Spencer does.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Spencer asks casually, keeping his eyes down as he takes another bite of his pizza. "The way you talk,” he pauses and considers his words very carefully, “you've clearly had panic attacks before."

"It's not a big deal."

"Amelia," the stony, serious tone of his voice makes my head pop up. He looks annoyed, as if he doesn't believe what I'm saying. I haven’t yet learned that lying to a profiler is useless. "You had a panic attack on a public sidewalk and it was so bad that you went nonverbal. Panic attacks happen to a lot of people but they're serious and debilitating and you should get treatment for them."

"Don’t tell me what I should do. I don't need treatment," I answer far too quickly. "I know you have your degree in psychology or whatever but I don’t need to hear it. I’ve taken care of myself for this long and I actually happen to think I’ve done a pretty good job at it, so I don’t need medication or therapy to interfere.”

Realization flashes on Spencer's face and he puts his piece of pizza down, leaning his elbows against his knees. "Seeking out help doesn’t make you weak."

I scoff and roll my eyes into the back of my head, but maybe that's just to avoid eye contact or to repress the tears that burn at my ducts. "That's not what this is about."

"I didn’t mention anything about my degree, Amelia,” Spencer snaps. “And all I’m trying to do is help you. You can go to a therapist and discuss coping mechanisms and figure out why you even have them or go to a doctor and get medication that will regulate attacks and maybe you'll get something to take after you get attacks, it'll be so much-"

"No!" I shout, cutting him off, my hands balled into fists as I struggle to rein in all the nasty things I want so badly to say, but that I know he doesn’t deserve. "I won't! I'm not! I'm fine without it! I've gone my whole fucking life like this and I don't need to be fixed!"

I decide it's the appropriate time to throw a temper tantrum and scramble off the bed, not even bothering to grab a jacket or a blanket or shoes or anything as I stomp down the stairs and throw open the door to the balcony. It's colder than I remember it being and the air instantly seizes up my bones, but I ignore the feeling as I close the door behind me. I lean against the railing and let a few tears silently slip down my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them and instead letting them trail down my neck and dampen the neckline of my crewneck. Fresh air used to always calm me down, but now, being alone on a balcony after fighting with Spencer, the air only feels suffocating.

A few minutes pass before I head the door slide open and Spencer steps out. I expect him to speak right away, to use his profiling skills to defuse the situation, but he doesn't. He drapes a blanket over my shoulders and as frustrated as I am at him and at the world and at myself, the tiny gesture makes me feel better. I'm craving his touch yet again and I wish he would just wrap his arms around me, but yet again, he doesn't. I tug the blanket as tight as I can around my shoulders and imagine it's his arms. His arms that are so close to me but feel like they are miles away.

"I've been a hypocrite." Spencer's voice is quiet, but not in the same way as it was during my attacks. No, before he was quiet for my sake. But now he seems quiet because he can't bear to speak any louder. Like if he hears his own words, he will combust and break down. "I kept something from you too."

I turn around and find that he's sitting down in one of the armchairs, another blanket wrapped around his shoulders. I, yet again, notice that his medallion is in his hand. But he's not trying to hide it, he's staring right down at it.

"Does it have anything to do with your medallion and why it was in your pocket?"

"Partly," he answers, and then looks up at me, pretty brown eyes already glistening with tears. If I wasn’t so upset, if Spencer wasn’t so upset, if the tension hadn’t carried outside, I would have poked his perfect nose and told him how cute he is when the tip of his nose gets red from the cold. My eyes are just focused on the medallion though, being passed between his fingers with expertise and never slipping out. "I'm clean, I promise. I wouldn't risk breaking my sobriety. I have too much to lose now. I've got you, and my job, and my team- my friends, Henry. But, um, yeah, there's something that I didn't tell you and I know that I should."

Partially born from my own selfish need for affection, coupled with Spencer's broken down state, I go and sit on his lap. He happily lets me do so, draping one hand over my thigh, holding the medallion there. I rest my head on his chest and wait for him to feel comfortable enough to start his story. I can feel his heart pounding against his chest and I stare down his hand, tap-tap-tapping on the arm of the chair. His nervousness is just as palpable as the tension.

"So, um, do you remember when we first met? You always like to point out how you're not the profiler here but did you happen to notice how nervous I was?"

"Mm," I hum, racking my brain for the memories of our first few coffee dates. I remember his strained smiles and his stuttered out words. I think back to us spending Christmas together and how, later on, he just blurted out an invitation to be his girlfriend that lacked finesse and confidence. He has always been nervous around me, but I always just thought that he was nervous with new relationships. It never crossed my mind that there was a reason other than anxiety. "Of course. The first day we met, I don't even think you took your bag off, right? I just thought dates made you nervous."

"Well, yeah, that's kinda true," Spencer sighs and when he tilts his head down, his lips brush against my temple. His warm lips bring a shiver down my spine and he holds me tighter against his cold body. "The truth is, about two years before I met you, I had a girlfriend, her name was Maeve. Our relationship wasn't really conventional. We, um,” he pauses and shifts his weight, “she was a geneticist and I saw her when I was having migraines, but then we started dating. We never met each other though."

His constant past tense is alarming. Was.

"We talked on the phone. She had a stalker from before I met her and she wanted to make sure that I didn’t get wrapped up in it. And we had to be safe so we only talked on pay phones. Only on Sunday's and never from the same phone twice. I thought I, um, I thought I loved her and then-" Spencer lets out a breath that sounds defeated, tired, helpless. He drops the medallion into my lap and his hands fly up to cover his face, another shaky breath falling from his lips. “I shouldn’t be telling you this when you're in such a fragile mental state. This is a lot of information and-”

"If you want to tell me then you can. I’m not a fragile little girl, I can take it. But if you don’t think you can then that’s okay too. I don’t need you to show me all the skeletons in your closet because you think you’ve been hypocritical.”

Spencer drops his hands, revealing his quivering lips and wet waterline. I return the medallion to the palm of his hand and close his fingers around it. "I mean,” he lets out the tiniest, saddest chuckle, “I was being hypocritical, being mad at you for keeping information a secret when I was doing the same.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” my slight teasing gets a more genuine laugh out of him, and he drops his forehead to my shoulder to hide it. “But it’s okay. I understand that there’s some things you don’t wanna share immediately.”

Spencer keeps his head down, his hand in a tight fist around his medallion and the other on my waist, keeping me close. I can practically feel his fear and anxiety and his overwhelming pain through the tips of his fingers digging into my skin, and I want so badly to take it from him. I would gladly shoulder his pain so he doesn’t have to drag it around behind him like a suitcase with a broken wheel. But as badly as I want to, I can’t help him the way I want to and so I just need to comfort him to the best of my ability.

"She got kidnapped and shot in front of me," he blurts out quickly, the memory obviously too painful to say gracefully. "I realized she was gone so the team investigated and we found Maeve and the unsub brought me inside where she was being held and had me see her for the first time ever and then killed herself and Maeve right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it."

Sometimes I don't know what to say to Spencer. He sees the worst that society has to offer, and the worst took away the first woman that he loved. I don't always know how to comfort him. Sometimes he just wants to be held and would rather not verbalize his feelings. And although I don’t love it when he decides to not talk things out, cuddling and giving out kisses is easier than arguing with him and trying to get him to talk about things he doesn’t want to. So physical affection is easier. But right now he doesn't seem to want to be held and I don't know how to help him. He didn't want to tell me this but clearly, today hasn't gone how either of us has wanted it to go. I've been spontaneously panicking and he's now confessing that his girlfriend was killed. None of this is right.

It takes him a few minutes to start speaking again, but when he does, his voice is quiet. "I almost relapsed after that," his head finds home on my shoulder again, and his other arm wraps around my waist. He holds me tight against his chest, adjusting the blanket around me to make sure I’m always covered and warm. "When I first got clean, I brought my medallion with me everywhere I went. I couldn't leave the house without it. I brought it with me on cases, to the store, everywhere. Then time passed and I could leave without it, and I was really proud of that. But then Maeve died and suddenly it was like I was right back at square one. I couldn't go anywhere without it. I needed the reminder of all my hard work and dedication or else I would've easily relapsed."

"Is," my voice is shakier than I wanted it to be, "is there something that's making you wanna relapse now?"

"Stalking cases," he answers, and that's not at all the answer I was expecting. I’m not really sure exactly what kind of answer I was expecting, but it wasn’t stalking cases. "They're common and they're not always violent so we don't always investigate but when we do, I hate it. It’s like torture on those cases, just having to relive what happened with her. Hotch doesn't even let me take part in takedowns of stalking cases because we both know I wouldn't be stable if a hostage situation happened. So,” he tucks his head into my neck this time, and I can feel his lips on my skin, leaving light kisses to make up for the heavy topic, “yeah, that’s what I was keeping from you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dove. I understand.”

I turn my head away from him and stare out at the city. The sun is setting and the sky is painted a pretty pink and purple, mixed together in a way I wish I could achieve in my work. But the people below pay no mind to it. They speed-walk to whatever their next destination is and keep their noses tucked in their phones, or to wave their hand for a cab and bark out orders and throw money at the person who spends their lives being chauffeurs to rude politicians and businessmen. Nobody cares to look up and admire the beauty around them, beauty that they won’t see some day. They don’t look up at the unnatural colors in the sky or check to see if the clouds have taken the form of a shoe or a candy wrapper. They just walk, and walk, and walk. They don’t care. Nobody ever cares.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, tears suddenly pouring down my cheeks. I reach for Spencer’s hands, intertwining our fingers but keeping his arms around my waist. I don’t want to be without his comfort and his arms and his warmth. He seems to feel the same because he pulls me even closer somehow, my body completely flush against his. "I love you, Spencer, and you-” I hiccup, “fuck, you didn't deserve any of that."

"You're all I need in this life, Amelia. I didn't think I'd ever fall in love again but now I have you and," I can feel his hands shaking in mine, and although it’s hard to tell if it’s from the cold or from anxiety. "I just love you so much. Please don’t leave me."

"I’m never gonna leave you, Spencer Reid. Ever. I'm not going anywhere," I whisper, but I can't tell who it's a reassurance for. "I love you."

///

SPENCER

///

THE NEXT MORNING

///

No amount of nights turned into mornings at Amelia’s apartment could get me used to being woken up to sun beams in my eyes.

I scrunch up my face as the sunlight flows through the windows and almost blinds me. I roll over and reach towards Amelia's side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of sheets instead of a fistful of her. I let out a disappointed sigh and force my eyes open, popping one lid open to confirm my sad realization that I'm waking up alone. Now I'm understanding how Amelia feels when I have to leave for cases.

I can feel the heat blasting and it makes it bearable for me to exist in only my pair of pajama pants, so I don't bother to put a shirt on. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and check my phone, just to make sure there isn't a spontaneous case on a Saturday, and there thankfully isn't anything yet. So I run a hand through my hair that is probably wild and climb out of bed, making the trek down the occasionally terrifying floating stairs.

I pause on the last step when I peer into the kitchen, the dumbest smile appearing on my face when I locate my girlfriend. She's sitting on the counter in the kitchen with her legs up and crossed at the ankles, dressed in only an oversized white tee shirt and pale blue wool socks. Matching, unfortunately. She's wearing her normal butterfly necklace, I can see from here, but she's missing all of her piercings- nose ring and earrings. Her natural curls are out in full force and are only contained by one of her patterned scarves, wrapped around her head like a headband. She's holding an apple in one hand and she has a book resting in her lap but I can't quite see the spine to read the title. But this is one of the moments I'm thankful for my fancy memory, as Amelia calls it, because she looks so effortlessly stunning and perfect and beautiful that I'm glad I'll remember this moment forever.

I watch her for a moment. She wiggles her toes every few seconds and then takes a loud bite from the apple, flipping the page and darting her eyes across the lines. Effortless. Remarkable. I'm often blown away by her simple beauty. I wonder how she does it without trying. How she renders me speechless. How she makes me feel like a teenager in love. How she makes me feel like a lovesick puppy, galloping around at her feet with stars in my eyes. How she makes me feel like she's completely out of my league. How she makes me feel like I'm the luckiest man in the whole world.

When I decide that I have to get my hands on her, I step off the stairs. She still doesn't notice my presence, I credit that to my bare feet on the hardwood, and she only looks up when a floorboard creaks. She lifts her chin and reveals her stunning dimples, ocean eyes wide for me. "Morning!" she quips, tucking a bookmark into the page and setting her book aside. "Wasn't sure you were ever gonna wake up."

"I don't like waking up alone," I brush my fingertips along her leg as I walk closer, eliciting a shy giggle from Amelia. No matter how many times I touch her, she still gets shy about it. I peer over her legs and my eyebrows raise. "You're reading Rossi's book? What's that about?"

Amelia giggles, picking up the book and inspecting the cover. "It's more of a courtesy, actually. I bought all three books of his the other day and I'm planning on ripping out all the pages to use for a piece of art for my next exhibit. But I figured I'd read them first before I destroy them, you know? He saved my life as a kid so the least I can do is read his books before I destroy them."

"Hmm," it's not really at all the answer I was expecting. I watch her face as she plasters on a shy smile, kicking her feet like an excited child and clutching the book to her chest. I don’t have the heart to ask her any more questions about her decision to rip up Rossi’s books because I don’t want to wipe that smile off her face. "Interesting. Breakfast?"

"Not before you give me a kiss," Amelia's delicate voice balances out the horrors Rossi illustrates in his book as she brings her lips to mine. "If you're cooking, I don't care what you make."

"Sounds like a plan,” and just as I didn’t have the heart to question her art, I don’t have it in me to go further than an inch away from her lips before she decides it’s okay. So that leads to kissing for far too long, the book tumbling out of Amelia’s hands and onto her lap, my hands holding her jaw. Her lips are different in the morning, slightly chapped and not yet bleeding from being chewed relentlessly. But, for some reason, I prefer them like this. And I definitely prefer chapped lips to glossy lips that get all over my face and takes a makeup remover wipe to get rid of. I quickly flip through the last few images of Amelia in my head and notice she hasn’t worn lip gloss in a while. Maybe that’s for the better though. She won’t have to hear me complain and watch me rub at my lips and grimace when my hand gets sticky too.

“Okay, okay,” Amelia giggles, grabbing my hands and pushing them away, “let’s not get carried away. I am hungry.”

“Then why didn’t you make breakfast yourself?” I sass, turning on my heel to start collecting breakfast ingredients and feed my hungry lady.

“Haha,” she snickers sarcastically, rolling her eyes at me. And a comfortable silence falls over us as I start cooking, occasionally glancing over to watch her thumb through the book. It etches a hopefully permanent smile onto my face.

"I do have a question, though," Amelia fiddles with the corner of a page, curling it between her finger and keeping her eyes down. I hum lazily in response, mixing pancakes batter, far too focused on making sure I get measurements correct to be able to make eye contact with her. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but your medallion- well, it," she sighs, obviously not able to find the words for what she wants to say.

It’s not my favorite topic of conversation so early in the morning, but I guess the sooner Amelia asks her questions and gets them out of her system, the sooner we can stop having conversations about my demons. "You can ask whatever you want to.”

"It's not a bad question, I don't think," she responds, and turns so her legs are swinging over the edge of the counter, facing me. "I'm just curious what the compass on the back means. It seems odd to me. I mean, the front says recovery and all but the back has a compass? I've never heard of these medallions having a compass on them."

"The designs differ," despite the relatively tame question, I busy myself by trying to create perfect circles with the batter on the hot skillet. She could've asked me about my experience with drugs and how it feels and she could have unknowingly triggered me, but no. She just wants to know about the compass. I guess that’s better than making me relive relapse or make me remember what a high feels like. "I've obviously been clean for more than a year, so the other medallions I have for other years have different designs on the back. But I always liked the one year medallion the best."

"Will you tell me why?" She presses gently, pulling her knees back up to her chest. I've seen her do this plenty of times, shut herself off from conversations, I mean, and I hate it when she does. On normal days, when she shuts herself off from conversations, I do what I can to put her at ease and get her to open back up. But if anyone should be shutting off from this conversation, it’s me. "You don't have to, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Getting to one year is really hard," I admit quickly, keeping my eyes off her as I move the pancakes from the skillet to a plate. "So when I finally got to one year and I got the medallion, it was a huge accomplishment for me. And the compass? It’s just a thing that my program preached. North is always regarded as the right way to go, even though that’s not really true in theory, but I never pointed that out. But my program had us pick someone or something to represent north for each person. So that way, if anyone was ever going through withdrawals or cravings, we could think of that thing we chose and it would give us the motivation to get through a hard time. The thing would give us a reason to go north, the right way. Basically, the way to recovery. The way to go back home.”

“And what did you choose?”

“My job,” it’s such an unenthusiastic answer, no light or happiness in my voice. “My job was all I had at the time, but my job being my north never felt right. It was never really motivating. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to get past a year. I had nothing to look forward to.”

"One more question," Amelia speaks, softer this time. "Can you come here?"

I look up and find that Amelia is resting her chin on her knees, giving me that same cute smile from before. I nod, scooping the last pancake off the skillet and putting it on the pile before walking over, dragging my feet. Amelia drops her legs and holds out her arms, wrapping them around my shoulders the moment I get close enough. I instantly melt into her embrace and tuck my face into her neck, feeling her fingers on the back of my neck, tracing small shapes and letters.

"I know that I didn't know you back then," Amelia whispers, warm breath tickling my skin, "but I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you're strong enough to keep your head up and stay clean. And thank you for trusting me with all this information. I love you so much."

My body is filled with that familiar warmth that I only feel when Amelia is around, and I can't stop the smile that comes to my face. The tears in my eyes dry up quickly at the praise. "Thank you for loving me."

"I always will," she pulls away and slides her hands up to my face, pointer fingertips tracing my jaw and up to my cheekbones. She swipes her finger across my bottom lip and then brings it up to my nose, poking it gently and giggling under her breath. She’s deep in thought, I can tell from the look on her face. "You know,” she smooths down my eyebrows and then her fingers follow my hairline all the way down to my jaw, “I’ll be your north," she suggests. "I know you always tell me that talking to me when you're on cases helps, but I wanna help you with everything, with every aspect of your life. I wanna help you with the ugliest parts of your life, and not just the ugly parts of your job. I'll be your north. I'll be your reason to come home and I'll be- I'll be like your guiding light. I'll be your lighthouse. I'll just," her hands halt on my cheeks and her legs twist around my waist, bringing our bodies flush, "I'll be your north."

My heart is pounding as I smile at her, the tears that had just dried up coming back tenfold. She's smiling her stupidly gorgeous smile but not even making eye contact, just staring down at my lips as she lets her brain settle from all the words she just vomited and as she holds herself back from her obvious impulse to actually kiss me. So I lean forward and peck her lips, untangling our limbs. "I'll be right back," I ignore the sting in my chest at the disappointment clear on her face as I pull completely away from her hold. But I kiss her cheek for reassurance before I disappear back upstairs, grabbing my go-bag.

I return to the kitchen with last year’s Christmas present in my hands and open up to the page I'm searching for, walking up to my girl. Her back is to me, pouring more batter onto the skillet to finish up breakfast. But the moment she puts the bowl of batter back on the counter, I swing my arms over her head and bring the sketchbook in front of her to show her a journal entry.

"I didn't always use it for sketches," I explain as she grabs the book from me, "but I use it. A lot. Read that entry," Amelia goes radio silent as she reads, and I rest my chin on my shoulder to read with her.

Amelia is my north. I always thought that I'd be alone for the rest of my life and I'd never fall in love again. I thought I had been scorned too hard and I'd never recover. But Amelia gives me a reason to want to go home. She gives me a reason to not make that reckless decision that comes to my mind in the field and she gives me a reason to not go out in the middle of the night and go searching for a new dealer. She gives me a reason to live and maybe it's wrong of me to rely so heavily on another person who could leave me just as easily as everyone else in my life has, but I don't care. She gives me a purpose and she's the reason I come home every day.

It's the little things she does that make me love her. I love seeing her face pop up on Garcia's video chats and I love seeing the snacks she leaves in my desk and the notes she leaves for me and how she always makes a point to clean my apartment when she's over. I've never met someone quite like her.

I didn't think I'd ever find a person to personify "north." I always thought that "north" would remain this mysterious entity that I would blindly chase after my entire life and remain following towards a life of recovery, or a life of constant relapse and pain. Or that I would just continue lying to myself and saying that my “north” was my job. But now I know that Amelia is that "north" that will always be by my side. As long as I have her, then I'll never have to chase after a nameless, faceless goal. I'll always have my north right beside me.

Amelia sniffles as she shuts the sketchbook, setting it gently on the counter. "Okay, fuck you for making me cry."

I toss my head back laugh, grabbing her waist to turn her around, taking the job of wiping her tears. "I’m sorry, love, that wasn't my intention."

"That was really sweet, dove," Amelia disregards her tears, throwing her arms around me and pressing her face into my neck. “I’m never gonna leave you, Spence. I want you to believe that. I love you so much. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” I clutch her waist in my hands as if that would keep her from leaving, “sometimes, I just feel helpless and unlovable and when I feel like that, I come to you.”

“Good. You’re not unlovable. I am so insanely in love with you and you’re never, ever getting rid of me.”

“Good,” I echo, pressing my lips to her shoulder and trailing kisses up her neck. “You’re-” Amelia’s stomach growling silences me, her cheeks turning pink as she ducks her head away. “Okay, alright, the mushy love fest is over. Eat some breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggles, turning in my arms to dish out pancakes for us, “I’m just really hungry and I wasn’t gonna make anything until you woke up. But the bottom line is that I love you and I’m always gonna be in your apartment, cleaning shit you don’t want me to and annoying the hell out of you.”

“Yeah, you definitely annoy me when you leave the curtains open and I get blinded in the morning.”

Amelia turns to me with the cutest smile, holding a plate of pancakes out for me. “At least you get to wake up next to me in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I lean over the plate to give her what seems like the millionth kiss to the morning, “waking up next to you is pretty amazing.”

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting @babybloodstonebones @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @goldenalvez @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrryspencer @m0rcia @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @blakes-dictionxry @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fic #dr reid #dr spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gubler

29 notes · View notes

lovemalecforever · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

A Reunion to Cherish

Alec woke up to the sound of the television playing in the stillness of their home. He blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. When he was back in his senses he realized that they fell asleep on the couch while watching the movie and his warlock was sound asleep making his chest as a pillow. A blanket was covering both of their torsos. He looked around and realized it was around midnight.

Reaching for the remote, he switched off the television then tried to move his warlock without disturbing his sleep but failed in doing so. He sighed then reached for his stele and activated his strength and flexibility runes, then carefully wrapped his warlock in his arms, picked him up, and went to their bedroom.

He placed him on the bed, then got on the bed and wrapped his arms around Magnus' waist tightly, cuddling as close as possible, feeling the warmth of their bodies which he knew will miss the next few days. With that in mind, he dozed off within minutes.

______________________________

Alec woke up with the feeling of the most gentle feathery touch around his temples, he bit the inside of his cheeks to suppress his smile knowing really well what his warlock's doing. Even though he knows it's wrong to let Magnus think he's sleeping whenever he plays with his hair, he always loves it whenever his warlock does that. But this time he wants to be a tease.

"Love doing that with my hair?" He said in a husky and sleepy voice, eyes still closed.

Alec slowly opened his eyes slowly only to find a deep red blush creeping on that beautiful makeup-ridden face. He smiled helplessly, that was the most beautiful sight he had ever woken up to.

Magnus quickly buried his face in the pillow, too embarrassed to say anything when he felt a tender touch and a gentle kiss around his neck.

"Morning, love," Alec said in a rough morning voice. When Magnus didn't respond, he tried again. "Don't feel embarrassed, Magnus. It's okay. And honestly, I liked it."

"How do you know?" Magnus asked, face still buried in the pillow.

"Know what?"

"That I'm feeling... embarrassed." He whispered.

A light smile crept on Alec's face as he stroked his soft black hair and whispered in his husband's ears, "It's written all over your face, Mags." Then kissed him on the nape of his neck.

Magnus raised his head from the pillow then looked at his husband who had pure love and reassurance filled in his eyes. "Not fair, Alexander." He pouted.

"Hello, there!" Alec smiled and locked their lips in a soft, gentle yet passionate kiss. They broke their kiss after some time and Alec wrapped his arms around his warlock tightly. Magnus was happy to oblige but confused as well.

"Don't you have to be at the institute?"

"Not today, as I have to leave for New York. Cat and Madzie will be here at 11 o'clock, we'll leave from here only."

"Oh!"

Alec looked at the clock only to find that it's just 8 in the morning. He looked at his husband whose face was now filled with longing and hurt. He sighed knowing that look really well. Scooting closer, he left a feather-light over his temple.

"Hey... I know what you're thinking. I can't force the thoughts out of your mind, but I can reassure you that I'm going to be completely fine. Please, don't worry about it, about me. I love you and you know that. I'm going to miss you." He said and gently pecked his lips.

Magnus gave him a light smile. He knew Alec had promised him that he wouldn't go on any hunts, but the feeling of losing him while he was away was building up strongly in his chest. He didn't know what this feeling was, couldn't put his hands on it, but it seemed like something bad is about to happen. But he didn't want to ruin the moment they were in.

"I know, I'll miss you too. Now, you go get freshen up while I start preparing breakfast." He was about to get up when Alec grabbed him and made him lay down on the bed again, snuggling close to him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Umm... Alexander, breakfast..."

"That can wait! We still have time, Mags. I want to spend time with you, cuddle with you as much as I can before leaving. So you're not getting out of this bed anytime soon. Now, come here!" Alec ordered and who was Magnus to say no to his shadowhunter. He simply nodded, snuggled closer, and buried his head in his husband's chest.

________________________________

It was around 10:30 in the morning, the husbands were in their kitchen preparing breakfast and Alec was all ready to leave for New York. Magnus prepared a pancake with caramel and chocolate syrup and hot chocolate with marshmallows dipped in it for his shadowhunter; one of Alec's favorite, and a simple pancake with chocolate syrup and hot coffee for himself. They were eating their breakfast when their doorbell rang. Magnus waved his hand to open the door.

Before either of them could greet their guests, a soft voice echoed their whole house.

"Maaagnus!! Aaallec!" Madzie ran towards their living room calling their names loudly again and again while Catarina was walking behind her smiling at the little ones' excitement.

Alec and Magnus walked out of their kitchen to greet the little package of excitement.

"Hey, sweet pea!" Magnus bent down to hug his favorite warlock then picked her in his arms.

"Maaagnus! I've missed you!" She said enthusiastically.

"I've missed you too, sweet pea!" He said and rubbed their nose softly, making her giggle.

Alec was standing there listening to their interaction with a wide smile as his husband had a look of genuine happiness after a long time.

"Aalleec!" She said while outstretching her hands towards Alec.

"Hey, my favorite sorceress!" He walked towards them and pecked her on the cheeks, making her giggle again.

"Aalec, you stay too please, we will all party and enjoy." She said in a sweet and pleading voice.

Alec looked over at Magnus and Catarina, then spoke softly. "I wish I could, sweet pea. Your Mom and I have some important work to complete and we'll party once I'm back. Okay?"

"Okay." She said in a sad voice.

"Hey sweet pea, don't get upset. We both will enjoy and party," Magnus said while swaying her in his arms, then whispered to her, "and your Mom won't be here to make complaints, neither Alec, we'll enjoy and party every day."

"I heard that Bane!" Catarina said sharply.

Magnus looked at her then to his husband who raised his eyebrows at him, clearly showing that he heard that too.

"I better not find this home covered with glitter when I'll be back, or I swear I'm gonna make you clean that without using your magic!" Alec said in an authoritative voice.

"Why are you both taking my class!? I don't break rules or make a mess!" Magnus protested.

Alec and Catarina exchanged a look then looked at Magnus making him gulp with nervousness, while someone was enjoying this a lot.

"Hey! Stop laughing sweet pea." Magnus put her down on the floor. "We've prepared your room, go and have a look at it, you know where your room is!" Madzie ran towards her temporary room leaving the three adults in the living room.

"Come on now, don't give me that looks both of you!"

Alec and Catarina sighed in unison.

"You better not spoil Mads behind my back, Bane!" Catarina said and hugged Magnus finally.

"Trust me, I won't! By the way, what's that?" He said, pointing towards a huge bag Catarina was carrying.

"Oh, That. Clave requested some ancient books. I don't know the reason though." She looked at Alec to take over.

Alec was confused at first but quickly understood that it was the book they will be needing for the ritual.

"Even I don't know, Jia's the only one who has information regarding this. She said she'll give the information at the time of the meeting itself." Alec said praying to the angels that Magnus will buy it and Thankfully, he did.

"Oh! All right. How long are you both gone, though?"

"2-3 days max," Alec answered.

"Alec, we should leave now. It's time." Catarina said knowing that the sooner they'll get this done, the better.

Alec nodded in response, then Catarina opened the portal for them. Alec gave Magnus a quick goodbye kiss, before stepping through the portal.

__________________________

The portal opened in front of the institute's gate, and they stepped out of it. Alec took in the scent of a familiar environment he was inhaling after a long time. It was only Izzy and Simon who knew about his visit to New York, for everyone else it's going to be a little surprise.

"I'll go to my apartment here and check more about it," she raised the book she was holding "and you go meet your family. Call me when this needs to be done while I finish my other business in the meantime."

Alec took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you for your help, Cat. It means a lot."

Catarina gave him a warm smile and left. Now it's all on Alec. He took a few deep breaths then knocked on the door of the institute. He expected Izzy to open the door as she knew about his arrival but when the gate opened, the reaction of the other person was priceless and worth witnessing.

"ALEC! Wha... how... oh god!" Jace stuttered which was unlikely of him and hugged his Parabatai tightly, having a warm glow of happiness in his mismatched eyes.

"J... Jace! I can't breathe!" Alec tried to speak while trying to loosen the grip his Parabatai held him in. "J... Jace!"

"Sorry! Sorry! It's been a long time, bro!"

"I'm aware, now can I come in, or I'm not allowed anymore!?" He teased, earning a smack on the head from his Parabatai.

He glared at him then they walked into the Institute. As soon as they entered he heard a loud scream and shook his head.

"JACE HERONDALE! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU DISAPPEARED!?"

He exchanged a look with Jace as he entered the orbs' hall noticing the change in the place that happened over the years.

"Can you not shout at me and ruin my day, Izzy!" Jace said, slightly annoyed with his sister.

"Care to expla- ALEC!" She squealed and ran towards her brother, hugging him tightly.

"Did you forget that I'm coming, Miss Head of the Institute?"

"Well..."

Alec looked down at his sister, noticing mischief in her eyes, and he smacked her lightly on the back of her head. "Someone's that busy!?"

"Ow! Hey!"

He looked down at her while having a bright grin then kissed her on top of the head.

Jace was looking at them, mouth agape with a priceless expression on his face yet again.

"Izzy! You knew he was coming?"

The siblings broke their hug and looked at Jace.

"Yeah, I knew."

"Where are the others?" Alec interrupted, not wanting them to argue over something this small.

"Si is at his apartment, Clary is in the training room, Mom and Luke will be here in an hour, Max by evening, but Dad won't be able to come. I tried but he was busy. Catarina?"

He sighed. "At her apartment, running errands while I talk to you all. I hope dad can make it too."

Izzy gave him a reassuring smile while Jace listened to their conversation, a deep frown forming on his forehead.

"Okay, what is going on? Alec, why didn't your husband tagged along with you this time and why is everyone coming here!?"

Alec looked at his Parabatai then to his sister then to him again and sighed heavily before speaking. "Because there is something I want to talk about which needs all of your presence!"

#asaab #angst with a happy ending #angst #fanfic authors #alec lightwood #fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #lightwood bane family #malec forever #malec fic #happily married #malec #magnus bane

2 notes · View notes

andcontemplation · 4 years

Note

I saw your pic of Winona and Helena and I was wondering if you could do a short ficlet of maybe young Joyce discussing her fling/friendzone/love with Hop with her older sister cause hell she's desperate about it

Like the sister could ask her out, give advice, tease her about it, they could talk about each other's experiences or Joyce could even ask her for advice cause she's afraid to fuck things up if it gets physical

I'm not a writer so I'm leaving all my ideas here, I'd love if you wrote this but don't worry if you're too busy or sth

Dear Anon -- I don’t normally take many fic requests because I’m such a slow writer, but this one just sprouted fully formed from my brain the moment I read your ask! It still took me a few days to get after since life got busy for me. It also turned out to be about 1400+ words so I’ve pasted below under the cut. I’ll be uploading it to Ao3 soon too when I get a chance :) I’d be happy to dedicate it to you if you feel comfortable dm-ing me your username on Ao3. Thank you for sending it along!

"Hey, you! What's wrong?"

Joyce nearly jumped out of her skin at the disembodied voice that called out from the empty bedroom -- or at least, the bedroom she thought was empty. She turned on a dime, clutching for her heart. Joyce might’ve been sixteen going on seventeen, but she was far too young for a heart attack.

"Jesus!" She gasped at the familiar figure sitting at the edge of the bed. "I didn't know you were home."

"Ma didn't tell you I was coming home for Thanksgiving?" Stella stopped unpacking the small duffle at her feet and raised an eyebrow at her sister.

Joyce sighed and leaned against the doorframe.

"Ma's not even here! She went to Chicago this morning with her new beau."

"Color me surprised," Stella deadpanned, throwing the pair of socks down on the bed in disgust. "Which one? Tom?"

Joyce shook her head.

"Randy. Tom was married."

Stella rolled her eyes and reached for another handful of clothes.

"Of course he was," she snapped. "How does she keep falling for that same old line?"

Joyce only shrugged and toed the door jamb, waiting for her sister to invite her into her room.

They hadn't seen much of each other since Stella ran off at sixteen to live with her boyfriend in Philadelphia, almost two years previous, and as the months and then the years passed by, Joyce felt more and more distant from the sister she grew up with. It was beginning to feel like eons had passed since they would spend all their days together, playing dolls and dress-up in that exact bedroom, performing plays for the neighborhood kids in the backyard or riding their bikes downtown to go try on perfume and makeup at the five and dime.

Joyce was still a little miffed at Stella for running off and leaving her behind with their mother and not taking Joyce with her when she left. It didn't seem fair that she had to stay when she was the baby -- the baby with the most responsibility -- the one who ended up making sure Ma didn't go completely off the rails, dependent on the bottle again or running off with a third husband. The resentment Joyce still carried always made her forget just how much she missed having her big sister around and how much she still needed her.

Stella looked up from her duffle bag and saw Joyce standing there, looking at her with big, red-rimmed eyes.

"Sorry Ma skipped town. I'm glad you're home," Joyce said, meaning it.

Stella's frown melted, and she dropped the clothes in a heap, patting the bed beside her.

"I am too. Now tell me what's wrong."

Joyce sighed deeply.

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"Boys?" Stella asked with a knowing grin.

Joyce sighed again, and her eyes fluttered up to the ceiling, embarrassed at the degree of stupidity she was feeling that very moment. She willed herself not to cry over him.

Stella pushed Joyce's bangs out of her eyes and off her cheeks, where they stuck to pale skin, and gave her little sister a look. But instead of imbibing confidence, it just made Joyce want to cry more.

She made a face and sucked in a breath before letting it all out.

"Karen and I saw Hop behind the bleachers with one of the cheerleaders today at lunch."

Stella's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh. Which cheerleader?"

"Chrissy Carpenter. That bottle blonde bubble-headed... bimbo!"

Joyce glared out the window and across the street at the edge of Hopper's front lawn, the only piece of his house she could see from that angle.

Stella choked back a giggle when she noticed how intensely Joyce was staring.

"Woah. That's some serious alliteration."

"Yeah, well," Joyce grumbled and shrugged. "I'm upset."

Stella went back to emptying out the rest of her bag, but not before throwing her sister a loving look.

"I can see that. But I thought you and Jimmy were just friends?"

"We are!" Joyce finally dragged her eyes off his house and pouted at Stella before trailing off. "It's just that…"

"Oh come on," Stella said and ruffled Joyce's bangs. "You know you can tell me!"

There was another eye roll from Joyce.

"I just thought that something had changed between us this year. Maybe... Oh, I don't know anymore."

Then she clammed up.

Stella walked over to the window, took out a pack of Slims, and lit one up before opening the window a crack.

"Know what? Spit it out, sis!"

Joyce couldn't look at her older, prettier, more elegant sister, sitting there smoking at the windowsill like some french model who could have any man she wanted -- wrapped around her little finger. Joyce wished she could only look so mod and in charge.

Instead, she felt pathetic for pining after the boy across the street.

"Well," she started, flopping back on the bed, finding it easier to confess without having to worry about seeing the look of judgment cross Stella's face. "He'd been acting weird since we went camping this last summer. Then I realized by the second week of September that he was over here almost every night. At first, he said he needed help with his schoolwork because he really wanted to graduate, and since we're in all the same classes, it made sense, right? But by October, he was coming over for the dumbest reasons, and then I started to think he was gonna ask me to the homecoming dance. Like, I was so sure he was gonna do it. A few times, actually. But it was like he chickened out or something."

Stella held up a hand to pause Joyce there, even though Joyce couldn't see it.

"Waitaminute. Didn't you say on our last phone call that Lonnie Byers asked you out that night?"

"Yep, and what a date that was." Joyce rolled her head to the side and looked at her sister with a scowl.

Stella smirked, tapping the end of the cigarette out over the eaves.

"I warned you about him."

"Yeah yeah, I know: 'Lonnie Byers is scum.' But I'm pretty sure we're talking about Hop here?"

"Pardonne Moi! Please... continue."

"So, he seemed a bit distant after homecoming, but he'd still come over to study sometimes, and I'd catch him staring at me. It almost looked like he wanted to kiss me or something. And one day during gym, he told me I looked pretty when I knew for a fact I was a sweaty, frizzy mess. I guess it got in my head because I started to think, well maybe I want him to kiss me. And maybe I like him too? I was gonna tell him this weekend. I had it all planned out. But then he runs off and swaps spit with Chrissy, and now here I am, crying over a dumb boy. Stupid, stupid me."

Stella put the last bit of the cigarette out and moved back to the bed, pushing Joyce's legs out of the way.

"Not stupid," she said. "Just young and in love."

Joyce sat up on her elbows, nose turned up in protest.

"Gross. I am not!"

"You are." Stella chuckled.

Joyce frowned as she slowly realized her sister was right and succumbed to her lovesick fate.

"I am, aren't I?"

"'Fraid so, my dear."

"Cripes -- this sucks!”

"Oh, don't worry." Stella smiled. "I know just the thing to fix a broken heart! Ma might not be around but we can still have fun. What’s say we stay up late, paint our nails, eat our way through an entire tub of ice cream and I can give you some pointers for when you find yourself a real man. You'll be over that silly Hopper boy in no time."

"But what if I don't want to be over him?" Joyce whined, feeling sick for even thinking it let alone admitting it out loud. He was her best friend, since before they could walk, and those feelings had remained strictly platonic but lately, she couldn't imagine being without him, let alone sharing him with anyone else. Especially bottle blonde bubble-headed bimbos.

Stella held her hand out to Joyce and helped her sit up.

"Trust me, sis. It's for the best. Boys like Jim and Lonnie will ruin you for life. You belong with someone sweet and kind, who won't rush you before you're ready…"

Joyce scoffed.

"Boys like that don't exist!"

"Sure, they do!" Stella nodded. Then she had an idea. "Say -- isn't there a Sadie Hawkins soon?"

"Yeah, the Snowball," Joyce said, cluing in, trying not to look too excited. "You think I should ask Hop?"

"No!" Stella sighed. "I'm saying you should ask a nice boy to go with you."

"A what?"

"Think of the nicest, and well... let’s say the nerdiest guy in your class, and ask him to the Snowball. Not Lonnie or Hop! No more bad boys who play ping-pong with your heart."

"No, no way!" Joyce shook her head and dove headfirst into the pillows. "I am not asking Bob the Brain!"

Stella threw her hands up in the air.

"Fine, be miserable and alone forever then. See if I care!"

"Fine!" Joyce shouted, muffled by the pillows before dissolving into a fit of giggles as her sister beat her over the head with another frilly embroidered pillow.

"I'm glad you're home," Joyce said when she caught her breath.

"Me too, sis," Stella said. "Me too."

#anon #asks #fanfiction #jopper #joyce byers #jim hopper #teen!jopper #highschool jopper #winona ryder #helena bonham carter

9 notes · View notes

etlunainmorte · 4 years

Text

🌙 To You Who Rejected Me 🌙

***

Many feared Gladiola, even the ones who lived outside the city. They see her as the most powerful Elf next to the Queen, who has never showed herself for almost five centuries. And due to the Queen's lack of public appearance, Gladiola's family was given the task to protect the Elven realm and the royal families who lived in it. They stood as the sturdy wall protecting everyone from the threat of their worst enemy, and without them, chaos would spread across the land.

Everywhere she went, Elves and all other creatures bowed before her as a sign of both fear and respect. Men trembled where they stand when she passed by, and women simply wanted to be like her. Her brother valued her as his most powerful ally, his trump card that never lost a single battle.

There was not a single soul in the land who didn't know her face and the frightening prowess that came along with it.

Gladiola's eyebrows slightly raised in a matter of a millisecond the moment she heard laughter coming from behind the heavy wooden doors of her brother's quarters. She stopped for moment and waited, her arms quietly resting on her sides, and a few moments later, the doors finally opened.

And from those doors, two women wearing such heavy makeup and overly - ornamented clothing came out, looking quite bedazzled and over the moon. The moment they saw Gladiola standing before them just outside her brother's quarters, they instantly stopped giggling like a pair of inexperienced school girls who just got caught by their terrifying tutor and bowed before her.

Gladiola ignored them, letting them walk away, and entered the room. There, she found her almighty brother in his casual clothing, looking relaxed and carefree, sitting on a plush sofa in the middle of the room just next to the massive window overlooking the entire city.

"Sister! Welcome, welcome." Her brother greeted cheerfully, beckoning her to come closer.

Stopping a few feet away from her brother, she went down on one knee with her head bowed down low and spoke, "How may I be of service?"

Her brother leaned in closer, and with a knowing smile, he said, "From now on, I want you to watch over those prisoners from the mortal realm. I want you to keep an eye on them, and if necessary," The smile vanished from the handsome male's face, to be replaced with spite and anger, and added, "I want you to give them a fierce punishment that they would never ever forget. Something that would scar their mortal existence forevermore. That one in red," He said, his fists clutching, a vein visibly popping from his forehead. " ... he annoys me very much. He calls me by this name which I do not have the slightest knowledge of. If he misbehaves, I want you, my sister, to take care of him in the language we, Elves of the High Race, know." His frown vanished to be replaced with that knowing smile once more as he leaned on the sofa and crossed his legs. And in a much calmer tone, he said, "I want you to do it now."

"But, Gladiolus, I' am here to visit my sister to - "

"You can do it next week during the Convergence." Her brother cut her off in a venomous tone. "Are we clear?"

The female Elf looked into her brother's eyes, ignoring the strange little red marks on his neck which were fairly hidden by his long platinum hair, and asked, "Is there something else you need me to do?"

"None," He answered as his slender hand glided over his beautiful platinum strands of hair. " ... as of the moment."

Standing tall and proud and with another bow of respect, she answered, "Very well. As you wish,... brother." She turned away from him without another word and made her way towards the door. She could hear the faintest sounds coming from behind it. Laughter? She opened the doors and lo and behold, behind them stood two females, looking very much like the first two who just left a few minutes ago, who were shocked to see her inside her own brother's quarters. The ladies, like their predecessors, stopped giggling and made way for her.

Behind her, she heard her brother exclaim, "Esmé! Carla! Ladies! Such an honor to see your lovely faces." And before she closed the heavy doors shut, she heard his voice once again, "Do ignore my sister. She's only a bit, ahh,... stoic,... "

***

The curious sounds made by his brother and those two women were still fresh on her mind when she went towards the other end of the castle where they were holding the mortal prisoners they caught yesterday. And as she walked down that dark hallway towards the west wing, she couldn't push the foreboding feeling off her mind. It nagged at her, actually begging her to turn around and leave. But, she knew she must do her obligations, no matter what.

And when she arrived on that one cell, she saw one of the men, the skinnier one, sitting forlornly and quietly across his companion who was still sleeping and snoring quite obnoxiously. He was reading a book, his eyes focused on it like his life depended on it.

He knew she was there but, he didn't even turn his head towards her in acknowledgement. There was clearly a hint of confidence in the way he carried himself despite his fragile - looking frame, and Gladiola felt right then and there that she must take extra care around him. She was strong but, she knew how to take a second look at her opponents. She knew when not to underestimate them.

"If you are here to torture us with your,... Elven ways," Still not taking his eyes off his book, the man told her in a deep and calm tone. " ... then I' am obliged to tell you that you have to wait for a bit longer. I'm afraid to say my brother's," He looked up, not to look at her but at the man who was still sleeping in front of him. " ... knocked out quite good." His eyes went back to his book, a smirk gracing his lips. Turning a page with his strangely tattooed hand, he added, "And is nowhere near waking up."

Gladiola smiled at such confidence. He really didn't know what he's gotten himself into. "And what, pray tell, do you know about the Elven ways of torture?"

His eyes left the book and he finally looked at her in the eye.

And those green eyes of his,... there was not a hint of fear or even insincerity in them.

In fact, that gaze of his did seem to look like he was actually challenging her in some way she couldn't quite explain.

"Given the fact that I' am,... unable to summon my familiars here,... it's safe to say that," He said, giving clear emphasis on each and every word, and paused. He, then, closed his book, got up on his feet, and faced her, simply towering above her. " ... your methods are quite," That pause once more. And with that smirk of his, he finally dropped the word. " ... unorthodox."

The female shook her head as she crossed her arms. Looking up at him with an equally confident smile, she informed him, "The cell you are in are made for prisoners with magical abilities. The very materials used in constructing this state of the art room could restrict all forms and types of magic from all known creatures. I'd say, the only thing that is unorthodox here is my presence." Gladiola went closer to the man. Standing a foot away from the cell bars that separated her from the prisoner, she added in a soft whisper, "Be a sweetheart and try to behave yourself. My brother has no qualms of sparing the likes of," She stopped mid - sentence to give a disgusted glance at the other person, now drooling and mumbling something inaudible in his sleep, then looked at the man once again. " ... you. A snap of his fingers could very well spell your own doom."

For a moment, the man only looked at her with such an intense expression, and a few seconds later, he gave his answer with a nod. "That,... I understand. Although," He stopped and gave a knowing look at his companion, who began to stir in his deep slumber. " ... you might also want to inform him of that." Looking at her once more, he walked closer towards the cell bars and took a hold of them with those tattooed hand of his. Leaning a bit closer to her, he whispered, "We don't stand for anyone who destroys people's houses, not to mention the attempt to murder the innocent."

The intensity in the man's voice almost lured Gladiola to the edge. However, unlike her brother, she's very patient. Reining in her temper, her powers, and the urge to knock the man down and make him kneel before her, she said in an authoritative tone, "Accusation of murder against the royal family could lead to your demise. I suggest you be careful of what words to utter in my presence."

And to this, the man only raised an eyebrow. "That's quite,... confusing."

"What is?" Gladiola questioned him. "What's difficult to understand in - ?"

"You mean to say you go about killing innocent people, and you simply get away with it because you're royalty?" With furrowed eyebrows and curled lips, he tightened his grip on the cell bars and leaned as close as he could get to the female Elf. And with that unnerving smirk of his, he said, "How,... perfectly convenient that is."

"I said it once, and I will repeat it one last time." Gladiola gave the man a challenging look as she braced herself for what's to come. "Accusation of murder - "

However, something in the man's eyes made Gladiola's own wide with disbelief. Something in the way he stared her down told her that he was gravely and utterly serious with what he just revealed. Not only were his words intense. His eyes also gave the impression that she and her people were, in fact, the ones who were at fault, and not them.

Those intense jade gaze of his sent a clear message that he wanted to be heard, and he would not stand by idle without defending himself, for the sake of fair justice.

Gladiola was about to go on with her statement when the two of them heard a loud and awful yawning coming from the floor to her left.

"Oh, wherefore art thou, oh Romeo,... " The man in red mumbled in a husky voice. "Thought Vergil fell asleep and left the t.v. on the Boomer Classic channel again. Turns out you two, nerds, started chatting without me." The man looked up and winked at Gladiola, flashing her his toothy grin. "Sounds a bit unfair, eh, babe?"

Almost fuming with rage at how this insolent man called her attention, Gladiola tore her gaze off the men and walked away, not wanting to do something unnecessary to them. She was far superior compared to the likes of them, and she refused to lower herself to their level by simply being lured by their innocent facade of a bait and actually using her power against them.

Then again, she was given a clear and direct instruction by her brother to punish them should they misbehave. Everything with regards to their fate was left entirely to her own hands.

But, then, at the last second, she refused to lift a single finger. She could easily wave her hand and break their necks but, something pulled her in and prevented her from doing so. She had no difficulty whatsoever in dealing with the nitty gritty side of her responsibilities but, there was something in that man's eyes, something in his words and the way he looked, that made her pull back.

That confidence. That dignity.

That,... conviction,... that they weren't the ones at fault.

Maybe it was a fluke of fate that made her deal with the dark - haired man first. Maybe next time she would deal with the filthier one instead. After all, he seemed very easy to manipulate,...

Her thoughts about the prisoners, especially that dark - haired one, were still going about her already preoccupied mind when she went back to her brother's quarters that afternoon. And there, she found him dining sumptuously with a large group of servants waiting for him and bringing him whatever he needs.

And when he saw her, he was quite baffled and alarmed. Offended even.

"Sister! Do you mind? I'm in the middle of my feast, and it seems you have forgotten you are not allowed to join." Her brother snapped at her, his eyes furious and his eyebrows knitted.

Gladiola fell on one knee and bowed her head. "My humblest apologies, dear brother."

Gladiolus sighed and shook his head. Snapping his fingers at one of the servants, he asked her, "What is your business here at this ungodly hour of the day? And you better make this visit worth my precious time."

The Elf Gladiola slightly lifted her head. Searching for her brother's gaze, she spoke, "The prisoners are awake. What shall I do with them?"

To this statement of hers, Gladiolus' hands froze in mid air as he was about to receive a bowl of grapes from a servant. And the servant, who was expecting the male Elf to take the bowl from her hands, made an awful mistake and dropped the bowl to the floor, breaking it and shattering it to pieces.

This made the male Elf even more furious. " YOU, STUPID LOW LIFE! DO YOU REALIZE YOU COULD'VE WOUNDED ME WITH YOUR CARELESSNESS? YOU, MINDLESS FOOL - !"

Gladiola looked away from the nasty sight of her brother and the poor servant being screamed at. Trying to drown out his awful voice, those words uttered by the dark - haired prisoner went back into her head.

You mean to say you go about killing innocent people, and you simply get away with it because you're royalty?

How,... perfectly convenient that is.

"BEGONE FROM MY SIGHT, YOU, USELESS LOW LIFE!" Gladiolus yelled, pointing at the servant and finally making her leave, which also made the others nervous because of his unpredictable temper. He looked at everyone in the room and went on, "What are you staring at? GET BACK TO WORK!"

The servants snapped off their frightened state and went on with their jobs, even though they looked like they were trembling from where they were standing.

Gladiolus closed his eyes and pursed his lips, balling his fists, then slamming them on the table. Looking at his sister, he said, "Do whatever you want with them. Toy with them, torture them, I don't care." The man leaned forward and pointed at his sister, who was still kneeling on the floor before him. "And should they step a toe out of line, kill them. I want them out of the way as soon as possible."

Gladiola searched his brother's eyes, pondering what to say to him. And seeing only unbridled fury there, and something else that she couldn't quite tell, she bowed her head and got up on her feet. "As you wish, dear brother."

Gladiolus sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. Leaning back into his plush chair, he said, "Get out of my sight. And never make the same mistake of ruining my supper again."

She has only been halfway through the day and already, Gladiola witnessed some things she never expected to see. Some,... changes,... she didn't expect to witness. For one thing, his brother's female callers often visited now compared last week. Despite knowing full well what they came there for, at the back of her mind, she knew that at this time of the year, her brother shouldn't be,... indulging,... in such worldly things.

And another thing. Since yesterday after they caught those mortal prisoners, something in him changed drastically. Well, he has always been quite the arrogant member of the family but, his attitude has dropped to the lowest in mere hours after throwing those mortals in their rightful place.

The Convergence was fast approaching, only six days left. And he, as a tournament competitor representing their race, must be in perfect form in order to win. Although it was clear that no one could best her brother when it comes to strength, she knew that he still shouldn't be too careless and negligent. As a warrior, herself, she knew that.

However, the way he acted when those mortals came,...

He never reacted in such a way with all the other criminals they caught in the past.

There was something that Gladiola was not seeing clearly. This piece of information was still playing in her mind when she saw one of the servants on the way to the prison cells, bringing some food. The servant saw her and immediately fell on his knees as a sign of respect.

"My Lady." He greeted, the tray of food, which contained only a piece of stale bread and a mug of water, still in his hands.

"Are these for those mortal prisoners?" Gladiola asked.

"Yes, My Lady." The servant answered, his head still bowed.

"Hand me that tray."

"P - pardon me, My Lady?"

She was not surprised to see the shocked face of the servant when she took the tray from his hands. What shocked her was the sight that greeted her when she arrived at the mortals' cell. She expected the men to make a ruckus and say all manner of awful things at her the moment she arrive but, no.

They were doing something else. They were,...

... passing around a piece of paper folded multiple times to make a form of some sort of flying animal.

And not just any type of paper. They were playing with the Convergence Tournament invitations passed out by the High Court's Elven Jester just yesterday!

Such,... blasphemous imbeciles!

The one in red noticed her presence and turned around to smile at her. "Oh, hey! Nice to see you back, babe. Ouch!" He winced in pain as the pointed part of the paper hit him in the temple. He caught the paper and scrutinized it like a critic. "Nice work, V. Now, this is some well - made paper crane."

"I did my best." The dark - haired man, whose name was apparently V, answered with his smirk.

"Alright, let's do the Yamato next - "

"Ahem!" Gladiola cleared her throat, calling their attention. The men did look at her, however, she suddenly felt a bit awkward around them, watching them play carelessly like that as if their lives were not in danger. "I brought you your supper."

"Finally! We're starving here, you know - ?" The man in red was about to get the tray from Gladiola when she pulled it away from his grasp, which earned her a pout from him. "Whoa, playing hard to get, eh?" The man smiled as he withdrew his hands. Leaning against the wall and crossing his legs to make himself look casual and comfortable on the floor, he smiled, tilted his head to the side, and said, "I guess this is the part where we answer your questions. Or else we get no food for the day, isn't that right?"

Gladiola raised her eyebrows and mimicked the man's moves. Sitting on the floor and carefully setting the tray aside, she said, "Shouldn't you be clamoring for your lives? Shouldn't you be begging me to save your skins from the wrath of the Elves?"

The man and V looked at each other, and a few moments later, they laughed, causing Gladiola's ears to heat up.

"Nah, that's only in movies! We don't do that!" The man in red answered with a wave of his hand. "After all, even if we do that, your brother would still have us killed, right?"

To this, the female smiled. "You might say that." Gesturing towards the men's filthy appearances, especially V with his missing footwear and tattered pants, she added, "Looks like you've been through a lot to get here."

"You could say that." The man answered. "Your folks just won't leave us alone. So, we decided to pay you a visit to talk things through. Isn't that right, V?"

"Indeed." V simply answered.

Gladiola absorbed this piece of information and went on with the interrogation. "If I'm not mistaken, you think our kind has been trying to murder you."

"Yes, and well, they destroyed our shop." The man in red said with an awkward little smile. He held up his finger and uttered, "Which reminds me! I haven't even paid the rent, water and electricity. So, you might as well give us - "

"Elven troops would not make a single move against anyone unless they were instructed by someone of royal blood to do so." Gladiola interrupted. "You knowing the existence of our kind is one thing. But to actually incur the wrath of the royal family, you must have done something awful and beyond pardon."

The man in red pursed his lips as he swallowed. Looking at V, who chose to remain silent, he explained, "W - well, it's a bit complicated. See, my brother here - "

"We only wanted to speak with the Princess." V cut him off mid - sentence. Giving Gladiola a look that was so different from what he gave her earlier, he said, "To solve a,... misunderstanding."

The female smiled as she nodded. "The Princess, I see. Well," She leaned against the wall and regarded V with a look of pity. " ... I might as well inform you that you will have a hard time convincing the council of your innocence with that awful, petty reason."

"And why is that?" V asked her.

Leaning forward and a bit closer to the cell bars, she said, "I'm the Princess." She ignored the man in red's dumbfounded facial expression and went on, "If you talk like that, surely, the council would think that I've been tolerating your actions, and believe me when I tell you this - no one would ever believe a single word you say."

"But, that doesn't make any sense!" The man in red spoke. "That angry female Elf, whoever she is, said she's gonna be the future Queen or something! She must be the Princess, then! Or you're just lying to us."

"I speak no lies." Gladiola answered. "But, if you're talking about the future Queen, then you must be referring to Galatea's descendant."

"Ahh,... what?" The man in red, who seemed to have become even more confused, questioned.

Gladiola shook her head. "It doesn't matter. You'll be dead, after all." She grabbed the stale bread from the tray and handed it to him, who took it a bit hesitantly. Watching the man break the bread in two and give the other piece to V, she said, "You said you're brothers."

"It,... doesn't matter." V answered, receiving the bread from his companion. "We'll be dead, after all."

"Anything else you wanna know?" The man in red asked, taking a bite off the only food he and his brother have. "I can sign you an autograph or bust a sick move before you hang me and V."

"There is another thing."

"Neat. What is that?"

"Those Elves who attacked you. What do they look like?"

"Dark, depressing." The man said as he received the mug of water from her hands. "Oh! And have I mentioned they looked like Voldemort's clones? But with noses, I'm sure."

"Voldemort?" Gladiola muttered in confusion.

"Dante, she doesn't know Harry Potter." V said, receiving the mug of water from him and taking a sip from it.

"Ah, yeah. What I mean is," The man in red, called Dante, looked at her eyes and held up his hands, doing weird gestures with them as if he was trying to perform a cheap magic trick. " ... they wore cloaks and they have magic!" Dante laughed at what he just said and did as he received the mug from V. "Hahaha! Eh, seriously though. We just want our shop back. And V here just wants to talk to (Y/N). Settle things with her." He smiled and winked at her. "You know the drill. After that, we'll quietly go home and consider all of this circus show just water under the bridge. A murky one at that! Still water, though."

So, it really was (Y/N),... "With her, I see. I'm sorry." Gladiola got up on her feet and took the empty tray with her. "I'm afraid to say you won't be able to speak with her for the next few centuries. As you've said, she's the future Queen. She will be during the Millennial Coronation. And her King would be decided with the upcoming Convergence Tournament."

"Let me guess." Dante held up a finger once more. "Legolas. He's one of the competitors for her hand?"

"How can you tell?"

Dante gave her that carefree smile once more. "I've seen enough fantasy movies with Patty to know where this is going. Right, V? Ehh, V?"

Gladiola didn't stick around to know what V's answer was. All she knew was that he seemed have become so crestfallen and confused the moment he found out about the Millennial Coronation and the Convergence Tournament. She also found out that the mortal men proved to be utterly innocent, no matter how odd they seemed,...

... and that the command for their murder didn't seem to come from any of the royal families.

Those Elves who attacked them, the ones Dante was talking about,...

... she knew they answered directly to her brother. Not to the current Queen or anyone else's, royal or honorable. They answered to him and him alone. She knew that.

But, why? Why would her brother kill these innocent men?

Unless,...

Gladiola didn't bother to knock at the door and just barged in completely unannounced that evening. And this time, she saw her brother having a meeting with several generals who have come directly from all the royal families of the Elven realm.

And when she entered the room, all of them seemed to look at her as if she was low life.

"Sister. Such a surprise you have to grace us with a visit. And right in the middle of an important meeting." Her brother said, a vein popping from his forehead, clearly from preventing himself from lashing out at her. "How,... very considerate of you."

You can't hurt me. You're a coward. "We're talking about secret meetings. I, as the General of your army, elect myself to be included."

And to this, the men, including her brother, all laughed, as if her words just then were utter trash.

"I assure you, sister, there's no need for your participation!" Her brother wheezed in between his boisterous bouts of laughter. "Soon, the forces of all the royal families would form the greatest alliance the Elven world has ever seen. They would all answer to me! When I' am King, no one would be able to topple us. And you, dear sister," Gladiolus went towards her. He, then, held her hand, and looked at her straight in the eye. " ... with your power, you would lead my legion. Together, I as King and you as my right hand, we would rule all the realms of this universe. And no one could bring us down, not even the Demon Sparda, himself." He, then, turned towards the men and spoke in a much louder voice. "Isn't that wonderful, gentlemen?"

Gladiola waited for their voices to dwindle down, and when they did, she took her hands off her brother's grasp and smiled up at him. "I believe you got it all wrong."

"Come again?" Her brother questioned, that vein popping up once more.

"(Y/N)." She answered. "My sister. She is the one who decides the fate of the Elven realm. Not me. Not even you, future King. You will answer directly to her, and not the other way around." Gladiola ignored the angry faces of the men in the room, including his brother's, and went on. "And who's to say you'll win the Convergence Tournament? You never know, someone who is stronger might be able to defeat you."

"And who would that be? Those mortals?" Gladiolus bellowed, once again making the men laugh. "They won't be able to defeat me! They can't even beat you! Besides," Gladiolus went back to the table and took his golden goblet. " ... they will stand on a trial tomorrow morning as soon as the sun rises. And they will be persecuted with crimes against the royal family. They will never get in my way of achieving eternal glory."

So, that's it. That's what you're worried about. "It seems like it. You are right as always, brother." Gladiola exclaimed, making her arrogant brother nod in agreement. "Now, I must keep going. I' am clearly disrupting your important meeting." She said and made her way towards the heavy wooden doors. And, before she left them, she added in a snide comment, "Oh, you might want to keep an eye on your private guards. They seemed to have developed a mind of their own."

Gladiola didn't wait for her brother's answer. All she knew was that her legs were carrying her as fast as they could to where the mortal men were imprisoned. And when she arrived there, she found Dante muttering some words she couldn't wrap her head around. And V? Well, it's safe to say he has somehow become a depressed blob of dark matter all gathered in one corner of the cell.

"I spy with my Devil Hunter eyes,... someone blonde and exquisite!" Dante muttered as if he was reciting a spell, then he looked at her with those tired and heavy - lidded eyes of his. The special cell could really make any creature tired and helpless. The mortals were not an exception. "Hey, babe. Wanna spend this lovely evening with me?" And clearly, Dante was beginning to have hallucinations.

Gladiola ignored Dante's weak advances and called V's attention. The dark - haired man looked up and as those deep green hopeless eyes of his stared directly into her soul, she said, "Do you really not see anything else but this cell? Look outside that window."

Both V and Dante did as she instructed, and for the first time in almost two days, they finally noticed the other castle not far from where they were.

"As you now know, this is not the only castle in this realm. This is just one of many." Gladiola told them. Hoping they would get the hint, she added, "Also, magic works outside this cell. I hope you haven't forgotten about that." She smiled and nodded as she witnessed how the men's facial expressions changed from hopeless to hopeful. She turned around and was about to leave when she decided to give them one last hint with such emphasis on each word. "Oh, and do try to behave yourselves tomorrow. You'll have audience with the future Queen." She turned around just in time to see V's face light up. "Try not to say or do anything rash and unnecessary and just put your trust in the hands of the Sisters of Fate."

And with those last words, Gladiola finally retired for the evening. Or did she?

***

"V." Dante whispered, unable to sleep because of his brother's weird actions. The poet has been sticking his skinny arm outside the one small window of the cell and doing all sorts of gestures with it that Dante found awfully insane. "V, should you really do that in the middle of the night?!" The Devil Hunter sighed and closed his eyes. Leaning against the cold wall, he muttered, "Can they at least give me one slice of pepperoni supreme before they hang me to death?"

"No one," V exclaimed in a very tired and hoarse voice. " ... is going,... to get hanged!"

And with all the demonic prowess he had gathered and focused into one spot of his body, which was his arm, he made one last attempt to give his wild idea a form, and lo and behold,...

... he was able to summon his avian familiar outside the cell, sixty or so meters above the ground.

The avian stretched his wings like he was just waking up from a deep slumber and allowed his power to run through his blue - feathered body.

"And who the heck kissed me awake?!" Griffon squawked. "I was having a really good dream here!"

"I'm afraid to say that dream of yours will have to wait,... for a bit longer."

Griffon turned around and was shocked to see both his master and Dante in a prison cell before him.

"V! YOU LOOK LIKE A PRUNE! WHAT HAPPENED TO YA?! WHAT IS GOIN' ON HERE?! WHAT - ?!"

"Listen to me very carefully," V wheezed as he held onto the bars of the window for support. " ... I want you,... to go to that castle,... and find her."

"I'm sorry, who?"

"(Y/N)!" V almost moaned in agony. "Find (Y/N), tell her we're here. And tell her we're not going to make it."

"V, what the hell are ya blabberin' about? Ya have to be specific here, man!"

"Tell her those Elves are going to kill us tomorrow!" Dante, who just got up, wide awake, explained. "And if we don't do something, all of us will die! Is what V wanted to say." The man, then, collapsed on the floor, knocked out and unconscious.

"Please, Griffon." V asked, his eyesight getting more and more blurry. "We rely,... on you."

"Alright then, Shakespeare! I got ya! Trust this bird! I'll go get ya yer Princess in shining armor." Griffon reassured him and flew across the clear night sky towards the castle where the future Queen of the Elven realm await.

***

🌙

***

#Vitale #Dmc5 #Devil may cry 5 #To you who rejected me #Chapter 4 #The elf gladiola #V x reader #V x you

9 notes · View notes

imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

Text

House, M.D. Fanfic (8/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter starts with Cuddy's struggle to keep it a secret from House about his previous diagnosis being correct. I should say that I REALLY don't care much for early season 3 Wilson, and I'm going to do my best not to let that affect the storytelling. This chapter is longer... lots of story development to get through.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

xxxxx

She was definitely not comfortable lying to House about this. He deserved to know he was right. She didn't know why Wilson suddenly thought he needed to teach House a lesson on humility and make her a party to it. "I have to tell him. I see him every day. I..."

"Everybody lies."

Wilson's words echo through her head that night as her head lay on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lines across his chest. "You were right."

He turned his head slightly to see her better. "I'm right about a lot of things. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

She pushed up slightly on her elbow, the sheet sliding down her chest a bit. "Your patient. In the wheelchair," she started.

He smiled slowly. "You gave him the shot."

She sighed, dropping her head back to his shoulder. "I gave him the shot."

"Why?"

"Because I know you. Because you see things the rest of us don't see. Because as infuriating as it is, you're never wrong about the medicine."

He smiled smugly. "I was right."

"Yes," she sighed, rubbing her face. "You're always right. The man stood up from his wheelchair and hugged his son."

"You weren't going to tell me..."

She looked up at him then. "Wilson thought it was a bad idea..."

"Wilson would think this is a bad idea too. That mean you're going to stop sleeping with me to get pregnant?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then why are you suddenly listening to him?"

She was quiet a moment. "You like the high. The night you showed up outside my window with your diagnosis, you were higher than I've ever seen you on Vicodin. We just worry about you."

"And yet you told me anyway," he pointed out, shifting to get up and grab his boxer briefs. He needed to walk. He needed to think.

She made a grab for his shirt and slipped it on. There was an argument brewing. "You're an addict, House. You're always looking for a fix. If it's not Vicodin, it's a medical mystery that only you can solve. If you don't have the puzzle, you get your high in my bed. Its all just a fix for you."

"That's what you think this is? That's all you think you are? A fix because I don't use Vicodin anymore and you told me no at work?" He spun around to face her. The look in her eyes said it all... she did think that's all she was to him. "I'm going home," he started pulling on his clothes.

"House, that's not what I said..."

"You said enough. I got my 'fix.' Keep the shirt." He headed for the front door.

"House!" She called after him. But it was too late as she heard the front door slam. She sighed and for back into bed. She should have said something. She should have told him him she knew she wasn't just a fix...because she did know. This had been going on for months... it was way past just sleeping together to get a fix or to get pregnant.

Her hand moved over the place he'd occupied in her bed not even ten minutes before. How had this even spiraled out of control that quickly? Sliding closer to his pillow, she inhaled his scent. She could hear his bike engine revving as he tore down the street, and she knew sleep was not going to come easy now in her empty bed.

xxxxx

"How's the leg?" she asked cautiously as she opened his door. She wasn't going to push too much since they were at work, but she was trying to judge his mood. Especially since he hadn't bothered to tell her that his leg was starting to hurt again.

He looked up from his desk and saw her entering his office. "My leg is fine."

"You're limping. Cameron thinks it's because we lied to you. We both know that I already told you, so that's not it. Is it because we had a fight?"

"Your breasts are different," he studied her closely, completely ignoring her attempt to talk about him.

She continued unfazed. "Wilson thinks I haven't told you, and that I'm feeling guilty and want to coddle you."

He shook his head. "You're pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant. How badly does your leg hurt?"

"Your breasts are firmer. As someone who had intimate knowledge with the girls, I would know," he stated. "You're pregnant."

"It's called an underwire. Tell me about your damn leg." She was not going to let him deflect by turning the tables on her.

"My leg is fine."

"Let me do a scan on your brain. If the Ketamine is wearing off..."

"Let me do a pregnancy test." They each wanted to test the other. Fair was fair, after all.

"House, I'm not pregnant!" she dropped her voice at the end, not wanting that word to escape the walls of his office.

"You've been taking fertility drugs. You've been getting laid on a regular basis, without protection. Your breasts have enlarged. You're doing crazy things, because I can't think of any other reason why you would ever listen to Wilson about lying to me. You're pregnant."

"You're not always right, you know."

"Actually I am. You said so yourself. I'm never wrong about the medicine. But you and Wilson would just have me think I'm wrong. You'd rather have me doubt myself and lie to me about it than tell me the truth and prove I'm right," he said lowly, massaging his thigh.

"House, let me look at your leg."

"My leg is fine!" After a moment, he dropped his head slightly. "Don't you think if I thought the treatment wasn't working that I'd do something to try to fix it?"

She sighed softly. "If it gets worse, call me." She knew she wasn't getting anywhere with him then, so pushing further was futile. He was still pissed at her for not telling him he was right. She was pissed at herself for going against her better judgement on this and actually listening to Wilson.

xxxxx

He hated that he'd had to grab his cane. He hated that he had taken the pills. He hated that he was now standing on her front porch, leaning against his cane, knocking on her door.

"Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?"

She wasn't surprised to see him, not really. Not after the way they left things. She was, however, surprised to see him with his cane. "Why do you keep insisting I'm pregnant?" She moved to let him in.

"Why do you keep insisting you're not?" He studied her. That had, afterall, been the purpose of them sleeping together to begin with. She had been very actively trying to get pregnant. So why was she now suddenly opposed to taking a pregnancy test to try to confirm it when he suspected it?

"You're walking with your cane. That means the Ketamine wore off." Now she was deflecting.

"Or it just means I need my next fix. That's what you and Wilson expect of me anyway, right? No puzzle to take my mind off it. Time to give sex a whirl."

She crossed her arms. "That's why you're here?"

"Why not? You have been so eager to welcome me into your bed. Figure I'll get high on endorphins from mind blowing sex and walk out of here without my cane," he said sarcastically. He caught the hurt look on her face at his comment and looked away.

"Call one of your hookers if you want mind blowing sex. I'm not in the mood," she turned to walk away.

"Hookers can do the distraction. They can't do the mind blowing sex. They don't do what you do..." He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He'd crossed a line with that last insult, and he knew it. He'd tried to hurt her with it... knew just what button to push to get the desired reaction. "I took the Vicodin. My leg hurts," he admitted quietly.

She took a step closer then, resting a hand on his arm. "We can figure something out."

He shook his head. "Nope. Tried Ketamine. It didn't work. House the cripple is back for good," he told her simply. He'd gotten a beautiful glimpse into a pain free life, had allowed himself to hope, only to have it yanked away. "Probably for the best. I do my best work this way. Less likely to screw up diagnosing patients when I'm in pain. More likely to be an insensitive ass, but less likely to miss something and screw up the medicine."

"House..."

"Are. You. Pregnant?" his voice low, his eyes dark as he closed down any chance of continuing to talk about himself.

"No," she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms once more.

"Take a test?"

"No. It's not time y..."

"Then how do you know?" He interrupted her, moving closer.

"It's too early to..."

"Better to have another go then. Just to make sure it takes," he murmured lowly, pulling her against him in a kiss then. He was ready to lose himself in her and the way she could make him forget everything else.

At first she was going to push him away, but after a moment, her body melted against his, not bothering to stop him as he pushed her shirt up and over her head. He was in pain. He needed the distraction. Maybe she did too. Maybe she needed the high of sex with him even more than he did. Biting his lower lip as she deepened the kiss, she shoved him back against the wall hard.

He growled when his back hit the wall, his eyes darkening with lust, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her roughly against him. His mouth moved to her neck, biting her pulse point hard and causing her to hiss, before soothing the spot with his tongue. She'd have to cover that with makeup tomorrow.

Her hands started pulling at his clothes as they worked their way to her bedroom. He closed the door with her body, pushing her back against it as his hands slid to her thighs and lifted her up, using the door to support the added weight so it didn't mess with his leg.

xxxxx

They finally both fell into her bed, breathless and in better moods. "Does that count as makeup sex? Or is that still angry sex?" He asked a moment later.

She lifted her head and couldn't help but smile slightly. "Shut up, House."

"I just need to know if I'm going to be expected to go another round for makeup sex, or if that was already covered..."

She grabbed her pillow from where it had landed on the floor earlier and smacked him lightly with it before shifting to get more comfortable in bed. "Shut up, House." But she did giggle softly to take the bite out of her words. She wasn't mad anymore. He didn't seem to be either. "Go to sleep."

#house #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #house x cuddy #greg house #lisa cuddy #huddy

6 notes · View notes