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sixpossumsinatrenchcoat · 11 months

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Talking to Ghosts

A postgame Omori epilogue exploring the way each member of the gang would cope after learning the truth. This time, Kel takes the wheel.

After Sunny gets into his mom’s car and leaves Faraway for good, Kel sits on his porch and Doesn’t Think About Anything.

It isn’t easy. Kel just had one of the craziest nights of his life. Everything Sunny said in that hospital room is bouncing around in his brain like one of those DVD screensavers. Except instead of a tacky color-changing logo, it's the worst thing he ever heard.

Luckily, Kel is very good at this game. He kicks off his shoes and digs his toes into the dirt. He plucks blades of grass and shreds them into spindly little threads. The bloody wreckage of Sunny's eye keeps surfacing in his mind, but it's way more fun to think about what he could IM Sunny about, now that Sunny has AIM. It’s even nicer to remember how tight Sunny hugged him before he left.

…Man. It's dumb, ‘cause it’s not like he didn’t already, but. Kel is really gonna miss that guy.

The sun climbs higher in the sky. The clouds scud by in no particular hurry. By the time the cool of morning heats to day, Kel is feeling sort of normal, actually.

So, of course, that’s when Aubrey shows up.

“Sunny,” she spits.

Kel does a double-take. “Wh— Huh?? Where???”

“No, you fucking moron, I’m asking. Where the fuck is Sunny.”

Right. Classic Aubrey. Skipping straight to ‘physical violence’ is an insane first resort, but it’s par for the course, for Aubrey. When Aubrey feels bad, she can’t just hide it, like Hero, or swallow it, like Basil, or—freaking—think about literally anything else, like Kel. Aubrey would rather forge her hurt into a warhammer and swing it at anyone dumb enough to get close.

They’ve had this fight a million times already. At this point, Kel could do it in his sleep.

Even after all this time, he can’t help letting Aubrey piss him off. But he does manage to bail out before she can break all his bones with her nail bat, so. That’s probably personal growth.

Kel gets all pissed off and stomps off and then stops being pissed off, because he hates being pissed off. He’s always hated feeling angry. It feels like poison in his blood. He doesn’t get how so many people can do it so much of the time. Why would you choose to feel bad when instead you could just… look at something else?

###

On his way inside, Kel blunders right into Hero.

“O-Oh! Sorry, bro!”

“All good,” Hero says automatically. Reflexive. His eyes are rimmed with red, but he obviously doesn’t plan on talking about it. “You okay?”

Kel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Clearly, Hero is taking the news way, way, way worse than anyone. (Including Aubrey, who is currently, actively committing property damage about it). But of course he’d rather die than say so.

“Totally,” Kel reassures him. “All good.”

###

It was the same when they were kids.

Oh, Hero acts like he never gets mad. He acts like he’s too grown-up for that kind of thing. He’s even pretty good at it. He’s got Aubrey fooled, and Sunny. And obviously their parents (not that that one was much of a challenge. Mamá and Dad would believe anything if Hero was the one who said it).

But Hero could never fool Mari. Mari was sharp, like Sunny. Perceptive enough to smell the lies on your breath. If you were hiding something, she could always draw it out of you. She’d soften Hero up with teasing and flattery and then hit him in his weak spot at the exact right moment, the perfect jab at the perfect angle to split him open like a fish. The good cop and the bad cop, all in one.

Kel used to hear them sometimes. Once in a blue moon, when Hero and Mari were sure that no one was listening, they would even let their hair down a little. Take off their disguises and let themselves be less-than-perfect for a change. Sometimes it was Hero who was crying, and sometimes it was Mari. Sometimes both of them at once!

But most of the time, they weren’t crying. They were pissed.

Like in fourth grade, after Kel’s practice got rained out. Kel was soaking wet and past exhausted. All he wanted was to lie down and close his eyes and not even think about the stupid math test that he definitely flunked this morning.

He was already reaching for the door when he heard the voices: pitched low and stretched taut, like a rubber band about to break.

“—even matter!!” Hero was whispering. “If I’m too busy, it’s my fault for not helping; but if I do tutor him—instead of studying for my own finals!! By the way!! Which I really need to be doing!!!”

“I’m familiar with the concept,” Mari said drily.

“—then it’s still my fault for—what? Not helping well enough? I mean, what??? What do they expect me to do? Freaking… crawl inside his head and make him smarter?”

Mari snickered. “You could hide a walkie-talkie in his hat. Like that Spongebob episode where he goes to driver’s ed.”

Hero huffed a tired laugh. “I just don’t get what they expect me to do. I’m not the one who still can’t do long division in fourth grade.”

Kel froze with his hand on the doorknob. Okay. Yeah. He wasn’t sure for a second, but—yeah. They were definitely talking about him.

Some people would probably pick a fight about it. Some people (cough, cough, Aubrey) would storm in guns a-blazing. And where would that get her? All the mean stuff she heard would still be in her head. Nothing would change, except that everyone would know that everyone knew that everything was worse than it looked. Kel didn’t want any part in it.

He backed away from the door. He backed all the way down the hall, and halfway down the stairs. Then—louder this time—he stomped up the steps and burst through the door to their room.

“Oh!” Hero looked very briefly panicked. “H-Hey, little bro! Short practice today?”

“Uh huh! We got rained out! But look!!!” Kel bared his teeth, showing off the ragged hole where his canine used to be.

Hero turned faintly green.

“Grooossss!” Mari giggled. “Did you twist it out yourself?”

“Uh huh!”

She ruffled his hair. “You’re so cool, Kel. Don’t ever change, okay?”

Kel grinned up at her, gap-toothed and beaming. “You got it!!”

###

But everyone changes.

###

Kel opens his eyes in Basil’s room.

It’s not how he remembers. Basil’s room used to be wall-to-wall leaves and vines and memories. Now it’s vacant. No photos. No sticky note reminders. None of Sunny's sketches on the walls. Just white paint and beige carpet and a pool of inky dark, slowly swallowing the floor.

In real life, Kel wasn’t here for this part. He had to hear about it from Aubrey while they huddled outside the ICU, clutching each other’s hands hard enough to cut off the circulation and taking turns telling each other that it was going to be okay. But Kel’s brain must not know that. Because this time, he can see everything.

Basil kneels over Sunny’s chest. Sunny’s face is eyeless mush. A mangle of ground meat.

There’s a blur of motion as Hero tackles Basil against the wall.

“Kel!” he bellows. He kicks the shears across the floor. “Kelsey! Now!!”

Oh. This is where he comes in.

Kel jerks around to stare at Hero, who’s got Basil pinned by the throat. “Wh–What?”

“Hold him!!”

“Huh???” Basil isn’t even struggling. He's just dangling there. Bleeding.

“NOW!!”

On his way across the room, Kel almost trips over something on the floor. A body. Sunny’s. But Sunny was sleeping in the living room. Why would Sunny be on Basil’s floor?

Kel looks closer.

Sunny’s face is red. Sunny’s hair is slicked flat and his face is all red, only red without any eyes at all. His face is torn red and he’s—moving. He’s moving. He’s awake. He’s bleeding out and he can feel it happen because he’s still awake.

Sunny looks at Kel without any eyes. Red sputters through his teeth. “Khrrrh—”

###

Kel wakes up gasping. Scrambles for his phone before he remembers that he doesn’t have Sunny's number. Does Sunny even have a phone? Would Kel even know if he did?

He stumbles downstairs to the family desktop. Sunny’s online. Big surprise. Sunny is always online, and never answers.

Kel is so freaked out, he almost types, ‘Hey, are you okay?’

‘Hey, Sunny! Sorry, I don’t want to stress you out, but I’m really scared. I’m really scared for you Sunny. I can’t stop feeling like something bad is going to happen. I can’t stop dreaming that something bad is going to happen. But they don’t feel like nightmares. They feel like visions. Premonitions.’

‘Hi Sunny. Long time no see, haha. Hey, weird question: are you okay? Are you hurt? Please tell me if you’re hurting but please please PLEASE don’t lie. Sometimes I get so scared you’re going to die. Are you going to die? You have to tell me if you’re—’

Kel doesn’t type any of that stuff.

He types, snnyyyy! u up? lol

He types, cant sleep haha

He types, wanna sneak out 2 hobbeez? ;) ;) ;)

Sunny doesn’t answer. Because he lives three hours away, and because he never answers. Whatever it is that Sunny wants, it’s obviously not to go to fucking Hobbeez.

Kel types, misss u bro. gna try 2 sleep. wishme luck :/

###

When he pads downstairs, he’s met with the hissing crackle of frying eggs.

“Mo~rning!” his mom sings out. “Thought I’d make breakfast, since it’s your brother’s last day!”

Right. Hero heads back to college tomorrow. Kel knew that. “Heck yeah! Can I help?”

“Vaya, vaya! I don’t need any more mess! Oh, and your friend got home from the hospital. You should go say hi! I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“My—” Kel sputters, before he remembers that she couldn’t possibly be talking about Sunny. Sunny lives three hours away. “Who??”

“The little blanquito. Que siempre parece como conejito mojado.”

Well, that’s definitely not Sunny. Which means that, by ‘hospital,’ Mamá meant ‘psych ward.’ Specifically, the wing for kids who tried to murder their best friend.

Kel’s eyes unfocus a little. The last time he saw Basil, it was—

(—pinned to the wall with Hero's elbow pressed into his throat. Beads of red dripping from his fingers. Even later, blanched and bloodless on the gurney, Kel could still see the blood crusted under his—

Basil wasn’t even very badly hurt, after. It looked a lot worse than it was, but that’s just ‘cause all his wounds were on his face. It’s not like Sunny’d had any way to defend himself. Just his own two hands. At worst, the marks might have got infected from all the grime under Sunny’s unwashed nails.)

“You should go see him!” Mamá says encouragingly. “I’m sure he’d be glad to see a friend.”

…Right. That’s what Kel is. A friend.

###

Basil really is back. He’s coming to school and everything. It’s—weird.

Not bad. It’s not bad. It’s just that talking to Basil is— Um. It’s sort of like playing a videogame about talking to Basil. Like Kel is watching himself from outside-in.

It was the same after Mari. Kel couldn’t wrap his head around why she did it. He couldn’t even stand to think about why she did it. So, he didn’t. He spent months on autopilot. Controlling his body remotely, like a mech pilot or something. ‘Press A to get out of bed.’ ‘Press B to put on your clothes.’ ‘Press X to bring your brother another meal that you both know he isn’t going to eat.’

“K-Kel?” Basil says again.

“Haha, sorry! Guess I spaced out for a second. I just wanted to say that it’s, uh. You know. It’s good to have you back! And if you ever need anything—someone to talk to, or to back you up if someone’s messing with you, or whatever—just, like, let me know.”

Basil doesn’t look up. He just keeps fidgeting with his fingernails, chewing a scab on his lip that’s already started to bleed. He obviously isn’t convinced.

“Hey, c’mon!” Kel whacks him on the arm, making Basil flinch. “You know we’ve got your back. If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell them to talk to me.”

If anything, Basil looks even less convinced. “...R-Right. Um. Thank you. I’ll… do that.”

Kel has to stop himself from scowling. He’s aware that he’s fucking this up. He just doesn’t understand why.

For a few years there, Kel was pretty sure that he was a good friend, at least. If nothing else. Now it turns out he couldn’t even get that right. In the end, it’s like everything else. No matter how hard he tries, it never seems to be enough.

What is it about friendship that he isn’t getting? Isn’t being friends just, like… hanging out, and going on adventures, and having a good time and stuff? Why is everyone so determined to make it into this big exhausting thing?

###

Kel is hanging out on Sunny’s porch again. Though technically it isn’t Sunny’s porch anymore. The For Sale sign is gone, so the sale must have gone through. But no one’s actually moved in yet, so. Not like there’s anyone to kick him out.

Kel isn’t moping, if that’s what you think. Being here is just a habit. Somewhere he goes to be alone. If anyone saw him here, they’d feel too awkward to approach.

…With one obvious exception.

Aubrey stalks across the lawn with her bat slung over one shoulder. The storm brewing in the air frizzes her hair to angry spikes. As usual, she doesn’t mince words.

“Are you seriously still doing this?”

Kel buries his face in his hands. “Why are you still so mad at me?”

“Why do you think?”

Thunder rolls. Lightning rends the sky, a violent gash in the dark.

“I don’t know!!” Kel shouts, too-loud in the ensuing quiet. “That’s why I’m asking!!”

Just for a second, Aubrey’s bat lowers. “...Are you actually fucking stupid? You totally iced me out. For years. In the worst time of my life.”

“I already apologized for that!!”

“I don’t care,” Aubrey snarls. Her goodwill has officially run out. “That doesn’t do anything! I’m not gonna get any less mad until you make it make sense!!”

Kel grimaces. “It’s— It was just…”

…It’s just that she was being so awful. At home, Kel was swallowed up by the black hole of Hero’s grief. And the second he clawed his way out into the light, there was Aubrey, choking, totally coming apart. Kel just wanted to feel okay for two seconds. Was that really so much to ask?

Wasn’t it bad enough that Mari was gone? Wasn’t it enough that Sunny left with her? There were plenty of times when Kel couldn’t get away from it. When he had to lock himself in the shower to keep from breaking down. But did it really have to be all the time? Always? For every second of every day?

Kel couldn’t even laugh at a joke without feeling like a jerk. Like feeling okay for a second was an insult. (Not to Mari, obviously. Mari was like Kel: she found the fun in every moment. Mari would be thrilled to see him whoop after landing a free throw, or laugh because a butterfly landed on his juice-stained shirt. And she’d hate how Hero and Aubrey were acting. So why was Kel the only one who was wrong?)

“I gotta go,” he mutters, jerking to his feet.

Aubrey barks a cold laugh. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You can read Kel's chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43929270/chapters/123048562

Or start from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43929270/chapters/110454879

#omori fanfic #omori suntan #omori photobomb #omori kelbrey #omori epilogue #true end #this shit is effectively therapy (but only for me)#omori spoilers

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theseaumie · 1 year

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Out of the Blue

Hello again! so I've finished the third chapter, to the detriment of my own sleeping schedule lol. Anyway Kid is kind of a jerk in this one, but we all already knew that so. Let me know what you think!

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(Chapter 3 - Hostage)

Zeirra's mind raced as she thought of an answer for the crazed pirate, her mouth seemingly moving before her brain could even comprehend what what was coming out. "I like your hair! Wait, fuck! I umm..". Not only was she fearing for her life right now, but she would also die feeling like an idiot.

Kid stared down at the woman in both confusion and amusement. For his entire life as a pirate, having pointed his pistol in the face of many idiots, he had never heard that response. He chuckled, pulling back the hammer as he narrowed his eyes at Zeirra. "Flattery will get you now where little girl". Just as he was about to pull the trigger, one of his lackeys yelled from the other side of the bar. "Boss, Marines are here!". Kid pulled back, looking over his shoulder at the window. He could faintly see the outline of a large group appearing outside the establishment. "What the hell? How did they get here so fast! I thought you said this island wasn't under the jurisdiction of the marines?!". Kid stared at the young ship hand, an angry scowl on his face. "You will be answering for that later".

As Kids attention was on his Lackey, Zeirra saw an opening, her arm barley moving towards the gun as his intimidating gave returned to her. He pressed the pistol harshly against her forehead, a smirk making its way onto his face. "Oh sweetheart did you think I forgot about you? How precious.. ". What he didn't expect was a gun shot from the other side of the bar, not realizing that the bartender herself hadn't left yet. the shot narrowly missed his face, shattering one of the windows on the other side of the bar. He turned his face towards the bartender, narrowing his eyes, as he motioned for Killer. Zeirra could feel the pistol relax against her skin, pushing it away before reaching up and biting his forearm. Kid yelled in surprise, grabbing her hair with his prostatic hand, trying to pull her off of him. "Dammit woman, let go!". Zeirra bit down harder, the sound of haki being activated catching Kids attention before he hissed in pain. She had used armament haki on her teeth as she bit down, biting him as hard as she could. Kid pulled harder on her hair, twisting it in his hand before yanking her off of him. Zeirra yelped in pain as her head was shoved harshly into the floor of the stage. "Oh you're lucky I don't put your pretty little head through the fucking wall woman. Once I'm done dealing with them Ill be back for you". Killer returned with the gun the bartender had used, also caring a small transponder snail he had found under the bar.

" Hello? ma'am are you still there? We heard gun shots is everyone okay?!" Kid clicked his tongue, standing up as he did. The sound of footsteps surround the bar could be heard, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with an small army of Marines. Killer hung up the call, Tossing the snail behind him as he did, before looking at Kids arm. There was a little blood trickling down from the bite, and Killer was shocked. "Wow, she got you good. Did not think a little thing like that could actually make you bleed". Kid growled in annoyance, about to say something before a crashing sound could be heard. Gun shots began to ring throughout the pub as everyone ducked. they stopped before Kid could raise his hand to repel them.

"We know you're in there Eustass 'Captain' Kid! You and your crew come out and surrender, we have you all surrounded!". Zeirra felt a chill run down her spine. As much as she didn't want to die by the hands of this pirate, she absolutely did NOT want to get detained by marines either. Both options looked grim as she tried to think of ways to escape. ". Kid stood up, looking out the window as he did. "Alright men, it looks like they want a fight". Kid chuckled, before looking back down at Zeirra. Suddenly an idea popped in his head and a devious smile made its way onto his face. " Well... It looks like today might be your lucky day woman". He reached down grabbing her by the arm, before pulling her up to his chest. He walked over to the lackey who had misinformed him about the marines presence on the Island. "The two of you will now act as the decoy. Congratulations on your roles". Kid reached over, taking the pistol from another crew member and shoving it into the lackeys hands. He then shoved Zeirra into his arms harshly. "Make yourselves useful and go grab their attention would you?". He turned the two around before shoving them towards the door. " Don't let your captain down again, got it?". Zeirra thrashed against the new pirate, attempting to get free before feeling the barrel of the pistol rest against her temple. She sucked in a breathe, feeling almost numb at the overwhelming amount of things that had already just happened. She could feel the pirate shake slightly as he told her to stop thrashing. He slowly approached the door, yelling out before he exited. "I have a hostage! Don't make any stupid moves or ill blow her brains out all over this Pub".

Zeirra wanted to cry, feeling her hands shake as she grabbed the mans arm. She just wanted to play her music and enjoy her night, that was all she wanted. How could everything had turned out so badly? She closed her eyes, anger surging through her veins as she thought about how argent one person had to be to cause all of this. She wanted to punch Kid in the face, still struggling as the lackey pulled her through the door. "Let go of me! You and your crew can go to hell!". The marine's, pointed their guns at the two as they moved through the doorway of the exit.

"Hold your fire! He has a hostage!". Zeirra yelled out in anger, thrashing wildly, as he pressed the pistol tighter to her temple. She had had enough of this. She planted her feet on the ground, using all of her strength to Lerch forward, throwing the man over her shoulder and causing him to drop his pistol in the process. The marines and lackey where completely stunned, not even processing her actions as she reached down to grab his pistol. She took it quickly, making her way back into the bar as she did. The Marine officer, looked completely shocked as he ordered the men to secure the pirate. "Why the hell did she run back in! What is going on?????"

Just as they were about to pursue, all of the weapons and metal objects the marines held began to fly out of their hands, moving towards the roof of the pub. As they looked up, they could see the dark silhouette of a man, and what looked to be an enormous metal arm. Some of the men panicked, attempting to retreats as they watched their weapons fly up towards the arm and stick. They weren't able to get far though, as Kid jumped down, slamming the large fist into the ground causing it to shake. cracks also formed, causing the ground to crumble and many of the marines to get trapped before being buried under the pile of rubble. Kid stood up with a confident smirk on his face. " ALRIGHT MEN, ATTACK!". As he yelled, the other pirates ran out of the building, charging the unorganized marines as they did. the large arm kid had created was raised over his head. He laughed manically before crashing it down and crushing many of the unfortunate marines who survived the first attack.

As the chaos continued outside, Zeirra had to make her way up the stares of the pub undetected. She had hid as she heard Kid give the order for the other pirates to charge. Somehow she managed to grab her bag, having to abandon her guitar to her dismay. She made it to the second floor, peaking out a broken window as she watched the chaos ensue. Though it had gotten dark outside, she could see Kids fiery hair as he continued to swing the enormous metal arm around. She could hear his laugh, cringing as she wondered how someone could feel joy from crushing others to death. She quickly shook the thought, continuing on her way towards the roof. Zeirra looked for any stairs that might lead to an an attic, finding instead a large whole in the ceiling leading to the outside. She didn't know what to expect, but she wasn't going to complain. jumping up through the hole, she landed on the roof of the pub. The sound of fighting could be heard on all sides, as she walked towards the ledge looking down. She sighed annoyingly, setting her bag down before slipping her long coat off of her shoulders. As the coat hit the roof, a large pair of wings expanded from her back, stretching as she took a moment to appreciate their new found freedom. She leaned back down, gathering her items as she strapped her back to her chest.

"What the hell? Hey kid, look up at the roof... what is that?". Killer pointed to the edge of the roof, before rearing back and slicing through another marine. Kid glanced over at the roof, seeing a large silhouette of wings, before being forced to turn his attention back to his opponent. The marine captain had deiced to engage Kid directly, and his onslaught of attacks hadn't left much room for distraction. " I don't know, why don't you go investigate. I'm a little busy at the moment". Kid jumped back, narrowly missing a swing from the captain as he did. Killer nodded, scaling the building quickly before getting the the roof.

Zeirra had heard the exchange between the two, panicking as he secured her bag to her chest. She took a deep breathe, her wings expanding widely before flapping down hard. She was launched into the air, getting higher and higher as she attempted to get away. She had terrible night vision, struggling to see where she was going as she flew. Just as Killer had gotten to the roof, he was nearly nocked back by the strong gust. He got up, staring at her dark form as moved further and further away. He still wasn't sure exactly what he was looking at, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the girl from the bar. He hadn't seen her body anywhere while fighting , and they would have known if she had been rescued by the marines. He sighed, resting a hand on his hip as he looked down at the group who were still fighting. The Kid pirates had completely overwhelmed the marines, and the only ones left alive where the captain and a few soldiers.

Kid continued his onslaught, finding an openings in captains defense and seizing the opportunity. He brought his fist down on the mans head, crushing him to death before leaning up victoriously. "That was almost too easy". He chuckled to himself, Turing to look up at the roof where Killer was standing. " Did you figure out what the hell it was Killer?". Killer shook his head, jumping down from the roof and landing next to his captain. "Not really, It flew off before I could see its face...". Kid sighed, then headed back towards the entrance of the bar. "Well if it were a problem I'm sure we would know about it by now. For now, I want everyone to grab as much alcohol and valuables as they can find, and get back on the ship. There's no telling how long it will be before more marines show up. The crew cheered, running back towards the pub as the completely ransacked it. Kid couldn't help but also notice the lack of a body, wondering where the hell the girl ran off to. He growled in anger, punching the wall as he made his way up the stairs. " Guess the little coward got away. How annoying".

#one piece x oc #one piece #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x oc #kid pirates #anime #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #fighting #Eustass Kid being an asshole

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sinfulpetgirlrd · 1 year

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This was so hard to write :’(

Things get better Odessa, honest!

“Uncle, the flattery is unbecoming of you. You know my hands have been unsteady since the attempt.” Odessa responds with a trembling smile, clutching the sample close.

“Um, would you like some water while I check this? It won’t take but a moment.” She continued before standing, the noise of the needle clattering into the bin ringing through the room before she nodded towards the sink. When he denied her offer with a shake of his head, she walked across the floor, her body drawn to the makeshift workstation she and Jonathan had created.

She stands in silence in front of it, the tension in the atmosphere almost tactile. Walker’s fingers quiver as they near the glass slide that remains unfilled. Without scientific facts, it is easy to deny something. The little nurse could carry on with the charade that all is good, she could deny her and Jonathan’s medical knowledge, her inhuman senses, all of it… She could keep up the façade until she had undeniable scientific proof.

In her state of distress, she numbly placed a single droplet of the watery blood onto the slide, her body going still after she quickly slipped the thing under the microscope’s viewing window.

I know I haven’t talked to you in a long time, but please. Please let me, Jon, and my senses be wrong, please… Not him. As she leans forward, her eye hovering just above the thing’s eyepiece, she stifles a soft, whimpering sob.

“Special infected,” the vampire whispered to herself, her hands leaving slight indentations in the metal tabletop.

“Uncle Sean?” She continues carefully, her teeth teasing against her lip, causing a metallic tang of blood to seep onto her tongue. “I- I have something to tell you.”

“You sound as if I am dieing petal.” He tried to make a joke, a half-hearted smirk on his face, but the moment he looked into her eyes, the expression faded away. Odessa stands, her arms crossed defensively across her chest, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh.

“Just— I just need you to listen. I beg you, please don’t interrupt me, okay?”

“Odessa, whatever it is I—” Sean says with a huff, finally relenting as her lower lip juts out in a small pout. “Okay, as God as my witness, I won’t say a peep.”

“Thank you, um— I’m not sure how to start. I know you are not one for nonfiction reading but, have you ever heard of or read Bram stoker’s Dracula?… Really? Splendid book, ah, okay, so not-not everything in it is fantasy.” Her sorrowful words hung in the air, wavering and quavering in the room. She studies his face, searching for even the slightest change in his demeanor as she goes on. Taking care to speak with precision, she was determined to not upset or alarm the man.

When she reminisces about that night, her body twists away from him, her fingers lightly tracing the indentations on her neck. A reminder of how she refused to be a victim in her own home, how she fought back as Father showed her. She talked about her awakening… Of Edward, her beloved, gentle Edward, whose name caused her heart to break once more, staining her cheeks with tears.

Odessa let more information out than she had ever thought she would, her hands trembling. She bares all, not just the damned culling, not just the hunters nor the ever present hunger. By the time she finishes, her body has sunk to the ground, her head bowed low, too exhausted to shed any more tears.

Two months, that’s how long it’s been. Two months that felt like an eternity. The little nurse had managed it all without complaint, never allowing her true feelings to show... Although she had no one to share them with.

Dorothea handled Walker’s secret bravely, but the amount of stress, all these added emotions would add to her recently overturned world view— no it was best if Odessa didn’t confine in her. Besides, all she would do is prompt Odessa to look for Charlie, which... It was best to let her think she was still missing or had passed away.

There was Jonathan but he was— well, him. She trusted him; she did— he had taken in her, cared for her… Yet after that night. Every night since then, it was painfully clear he had his own shit to work through.

Edgar was an option, he was friendly and willing to listen, but he was often covered in Jonathan’s scent, so anything shared was sure to eventually be reported back to her unbonded out of a sense of “care”.

Walker had no one she could reasonably confide in… Till now at least, though, for how long?

Sean held true to his word, maintaining his silence as he listened carefully to every word. He didn’t need her to elaborate past “vampires are real”. It was a fact he had already known, hell he suspected she was one. And if not for his illness, if not for the once strong, now broken woman before him, he’d be quite chuffed to know she trusted him enough to share.

And yet, if he had to be honest, the fact that she only told him because she had to hurt. I understand it was an attempt to protect me but still, I can’t fathom why she always chooses to suffer alone.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” Hampton says, carefully hopping off of the exam table. His gait is unsteady, the world seeming to spin, as he approaches the broken woman, extending his hand to draw her in for a much needed hug. “Odessa… My dear sweet Petal. It’s okay, everything is okay.”

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fox-glove · 5 months

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I wrapped up that commission I was dreading. It went fine I just ended up having to redo the thing 3 times which just made me sad. There’s an ease of adjustment I’m suffering from in my arrival home. I find it so simple to flop around hapless with no ambition and just a big shroud of dread. I think art is the worst thing you can ever love. Nothing in this world is as terrible as art. It’s really one of those throw your hands up in the air useless pursuits. I’m no idiot. I don’t have an attitude it’ll all work out and change my life. The biggest nightmare is really loving it, enough to feel like ripping yourself in two at the thought of giving it up. A hobby and you’re basically safe. “I can’t even draw a stick figure,” one exclaims. The privilege. You don’t know the psychological torture of being just slightly too unskilled to do any sort of professional illustration. To know any published comic work will mean quite literally nothing, a drop in a bucket. It makes me sick. I’ve considered teaching at a higher level as an alternative to any loftier dreams but I can’t handle throwing out what I’ve thought about for so long.

My brothers and I don’t talk to intensely about anything, and like I’ve said before, I’ve chipped away at most of my surface level friendships with an acute lack of maintenance. My many parental debacles, literal or invented prevent any serious conversation on that end. I think my life motto if asked would be, “Wherever you go, there you are.” It’s a line that wonderfully misses any pomp and circumstance of the other sayings people stick to. My motto takes a while to drive home, maybe a lifetime. I am half a spectre in my own life. I don’t cast any real presence.

For the past two days I’ve been crammed in the back seat of my mother’s truck on the way to NC for the week. My lips have been so cracked that they’ve been covered in blood everywhere I’ve gone, eyes encrusted with a black and orange smudge. I only started to wear makeup at my militant level recently. While I was in Ireland I really wanted to catch people interested in me. I figured the only way to do that was a nice, yet sort of low effort appearing, look with makeup. God, there’s this desperation I have to be pretty. I really don’t think I am. I’ll say it out loud, I’m not ashamed of it. When a sense of self-hatred runs so deep, it’s no difference. No flattery or polite comments could have me believe I deserve a slice of this earth to be on. I could pick it all apart, from my shoddy-shaped sort of mouth, all other putrid aspects of me. I don’t ask for compliments because I know it’ll help me. Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve been getting a lot of recommendations on Instagram lately of the type of girl I’d die to look like or marry. One who’s misery I’d like to experience, because I imagine it to be an easier pill to swallow. I think I might delete the app for as long as I can. These girls have slowly become the only thing that inhabits my for you page. I can’t look at their faces. It’ll be for the best to provide some distance for myself.

I’ve gotten myself in such deep trouble. I can’t survive any longer because I’ve got no realistic capacity to relax. Alcohol is the only thing that saves me from my prevailing misery. Other routes ruminate on what’s got me so rotten. It’s a clenched fist with every breath. I desire a certain level of bodily harm that isn’t sustainable. I’ve got a head completely rotted. Self preservation is barely a concept I can understand. My thoughts are too disgusting. As I move along I realize it more and more. The music I listen doesn’t even bring me my long standing relief. What to do off the wagon? When I’m in a particularly bad mood I just can’t stomach any music. I’ve been listening to a certain song on a loop while trying to dabble with some other rustic folk music options. Anything a bit happier. Tomorrow is another day. And so is the next, and whatever remains after that. Really, there’s no meaning that can be gathered from the stretch before us. I’ll keep the rest to myself for the most part. It’ll all clear up after break, although the need for a public forum drives home how embarrassing I can be.

As a kid, we’d have these big rain storms where I lived. It just poured down in heaps and heaps. My brothers and I would rustle for some Tupperware to be able to stick near the bushes where this pit followed along the border of our backyard down to the gutter. The whole thing worked like a river. We’d run along, watching our plastic boxes slide between leaves and thick, hard roots till it got all the way around to the mailbox. We’d scoop them us as to not let them hover over the gutter for too long. It’s some of my nicest memories in the rain. In the other places I’ve lived, the rain is a whole lot colder than anything I’m used to. The hot and fat rain of my childhood is a rarity.

I’m in a constant debate if I’m in love with the attention of a personal crisis, so I agitate myself accordingly. Nothing I think is real, the distress is all entertainment, etc, etc. I’ll shut up now, save the real things for the written word.

(All method acting and so not real. This is a funny joke huh, a sense of humor I have! )

#writing #text #diary

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castle-dominion · 7 months

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castle 7x7 Once Upon a Time in the West

the western episode liveblog

Lucky me I spent like 2.5 hours working on a supper that says it should take 35 mins bc I needed to make more for my uncle & I decided to take it slow instead of speeding thru at kitchen pace & also my finger has a hole slashed on it & honestly supper is still cooking in some ways.

Anyway liveblog time

All this medical jargon. At least we get the witnesses name right away.

Diamondback? *Immediately has a seizure*

Why clink glass when everyone is already there?

Brevity is the soul of wit (clipping) We got married! Their faces so good. The slow fall of javi's into a sneer/frown, lanie's fall into sad & slightly more open rather than just a smile, kevin's look between the two & blink JE: You guys suck. KR: What – why did you do that? LP: Hold – hold up. No, no, no, no, no.

they all just *turn* to look at martha Right drink ok

LP: Hold this (hold my beer) LP: I am your maid of honor. I haven’t had a carb in months, just in case I had to put that damn dress back on. KB: And you look great. LP: Save the flattery. Kate, you owe me dinner. I’m picking the restaurant and we’re ordering all the desserts. KB: (meekly) Okay. (I like how she's mad, says her piece, gets her apology dinner agreed to, & then forgives her & hugs her.)

*Lanie punches rick just a little bit* Guys! *dark strings that go just a little lower in anger* (clipping)

WE didn't get that call. Once again, not invited. & hey when I was a kid I made a skit on the Nativity of Christ by myself & when Mary & Joseph got married I didn't think of "I do" as the marriage, I didn't think of rings, I didn't think of vows, I thought of dancing. My stuffed animal that was Joseph & I (playing Mary) spun in circles together while I sang. To me, a wedding is about dancing. What I mean by this is: the reception is more important than actually getting married so don't worry u didn't miss a thing

RC: Could have been worse KB: It still might be. I mean, who knows what they’re doing to our place right now.

RC: Our place. Our. We’re married. We’re married. (he grabs her arm and links it with his) We did it, Mrs. Castle. KB: We certainly did, Mr. Beckett. RC: WAIT UNLESS THAT ADDS ANOTHER NAME TO HIS NAMES. Richard Alexander Edgar Rodgers Castle Beckett.

Why an island getaway if he's afraid of the ocean?

She looks good btw, nice hair. HOLY CRAP THAT HOSPITAL EMPLOYEE WEARING A JACKET OVER HER SCRUBS, i THOUGHT WAS A DOCTOR COVERED IN BLOOD & SHE WAS JUST CHATTING CASUALLY OUTSIDE AN OPERATING ROOM.

aT LEAST HE'S TRYING TO BE POSITIVE ABOUT MURDERS NOT MAI TAIS. whoops i didnt' realize caps lock was on. Also it is hard to type when I have a possible tendon injury in my finger

KB: And she believed she was a victim of foul play? Yay murder victim helping ppl know that they ARE a murder victim before they die! Dr: Yes, and so do I. Heart medicine? cardiac arrest? wait WHY is it lethal when unrefined? It is the same drug, just has other stuff near it like... fibre & calories & water from the plant... Unless the drug is actually altered on a chemical level... idrk. But yeah foxglove is medicinal & toxic. Why would the doctor want the detectives to do that? idk. Doesn't matter. All good.

Dagmar. (love-- I forget what I was writing, it's been a week or several. Oh wait maybe I was saying that I love people who sponsor disadvantaged children.)

Her mom only passed this recently? Oh & ew internship.

utter, whittle, such good diction *looks at him* Castle would be really smart abt this tho, he would give two smart answers, & then he'd say "third while you thought I was playing on my phone I found out it was a ranch in arizona"

but what's a "dude" ranch? XD esposito & castle XD they're still mad legit just tosses them his wallet XD

Sus (short, last minute, only 3 days) Beckett just does the time zone math in her head!? & according to sito the snake key is her bunkhouse key... "cowboy activities" so gay sex /j but also lol define cowboy activities, shovelling poop & breaking down your cattle into quarters for sale? she left her stuff OR she didn't bring it back with her bc she was in such a hurry

lol big boy & it hits him in the forehead

Video calls, ah yes. It's about the economy of the town, keeping people employed. Or yeah no it's personal. Love the set design too btw

Gates is pretty Sito shup. GATES OMG "I’m sure it was Mr. Castle’s fault." GATES OMG

RC: Well, look at this place. I mean, it’s got beautiful skies, wide open spaces, the thrill of the old west? (she’s still confused) What better place for an impromptu honeymoon? (her jaw drops) For the investigation, of course. We could jump on a plane and be there in a few hours. *right in front of gates* KB: No, Castle. We are not having a honeymoon at a dude ranch! ("a" honeymoon) Arguing so good RC: Well – it could be our cover story. We’re a newlywed couple with a hankering for the wild frontier, right? And look, Beckett. I know you want to see justice brought to this young woman’s killer. And … this … this is the only way. VG: I hate to say this, but your husband may be right. KB: *turns to look at her bc 1- why r u defending him, & 2- why are YOU defending HIM?* rysposito shared communication (Yeehaw) fricking love it. So excited for this ep.

(btw, I must have started this liveblog on the 27th; it is now oct 10, so you can see how busy my life is) clipping the fun intro but that horse whinney is the typical stock audio

Wow pretty people

Castle already looks kinda normal.

RC: Best honeymoon ever.

*Right out of the stagecoach KB steps into a pile of horse poop. She cringes.*

Love his outfit!!

James Grady. That's like James Jim Brady who disappeared mysteriously with Absolom Abbie Halkett. Love the language they use 'round here btw. Red bandannas is a good marker for the hands I think.

Aww upgraded them! Oh wait she was emailing about the fact that she was in room 14, the snake key wasn't relevant

JG: That’s my missus. Like yours, she runs the show here.

Castle speaking reminds me of firefly.

She's soo pretty

RC: Whoa. This is like, three fantasies coming true all at one. Only thing missing is … Gentlemen James, where do we get the replica guns? (he gestures shooting) Like yours. JG: Replica? Son, this is Arizona. It’s open carry.

Colt 45 babes

RC: (awed) I want to be him when I grow up. KB: (shrugs) Well yeah, if you grow up. JG: It’s all about practice, which you can do with one of our firearms, available for purchase at our gift shop. They just sell guns at gift shops in arizona? what!?!?

you mean ESPOSITO was wrong abt it being her bunk key.

RC: Are you looking for disinfectant? KB: Clues. Remember? Whitney was staying here. except she was NOT... this was not her room key.

whether we like it or not (big bro said aww)

He opens a door that turns out to be to the bathroom. But the bathroom isn’t empty. Tobias: Howdy, partner. RC shuts the door and turns back to KB. RC: I don’t know if it comes with the room, but there’s a naked cowboy shaving in our bathroom. This scene killed me. Just closes the door back on him. Tobias: Well, I guess when they found out that me and her both enjoyed chasing cowboys they figured what the heck. VERY authentic Tobias: I like my coffee like I like my men: strong, black, and bitter.

Tea (scandalbroth) (big bro loves this, he says "I love this faggot")

Of course they have a gay gossip at the cowboy honeymoon retreat. KB: So we procrastinate and make stuff up?

Well because you're more physically capable of hogtying beckett, you're the angry cop with training, he's the physically big writer who fences. But he gave you gunslinging!

they're allowed their phones?

Looove the outfits btw but I'm not taking a pic rn I have no time & don't have em standing beside each other.

KB: Hey Ryan, how’s it going? KR: Oh, wonderful. In fact, we were just discussing your nuptials. JE: Not the actual event, since neither of us were there. KB: Guys, is this really why you’re calling? KR: Partly, yes. JE: And we have news. Here’s the good: MTA cameras show that Whitney’s bags were left on the subway. KR: Here’s the bad news: they were stolen by a homeless man. But we put out a BOLO. Hopefully somebody will recognize him.

Wax covered cardboard? I thought that was like a broccoli case

She can tie up castle like how the bear tying class unus annus did tied up mark

Look at her nice & red dress

RC: I’ll take a coffin varnish. Bartender (who looks kinda cool ig): Some what? RC: You know, a gut warmer. Face burner. Nose paint? Cowboy cocktail? (the BARTENDER looks at him blankly) What do you all call whiskey here? Bartender: Whiskey RC: *flails his hand*

my man has an eyepatch wait XD keep an eye out! Castle!

Ollie: This isn’t a ring. It’s a noose.

Oh the bells are the signal for the ace up the sleeve thing & time for the gunfight.

Whitney did! *doesn't talk to whitney bc she dead* Ollie! Up high! Good on Castle for faking it with Ollie & Ollie for playing along so they can have their fight in private. Great dynamic. But the interruption made them both chill out a bit more.

Ranch key! *lock breaks*

Nice blowtorch but where the heck is it?

Dynamite IS covered in waxed paper but I thought of broccoli lol

Oh no we are going to receive some good old fashioned racism. My fnmi ass sitting over here waiting tensely 1876 babey!

CLIPPING RYAN ESPOSITO XD XD castle could have totally greased a palm for a truck.

15 miles on horseback? 4mph, that's 3 & a half hours or so bought himself a gun lol. I mean hey I'm anti gun but I love a sixshot. wait his& hers wedding gift guns? lmao that's great! But how will they get them back home?

love the fire there. If they're at a canter the entire way they could get there in 1h but thet ain't happening.

Yavapai dude: Seriously? You’re rolling up to the reservation dressed like extras from a Gene Autry movie? That’s some real cultural insensitivity. KB: Sorry. Sir, we didn’t mean any offense. We’re – we’re vacationing at Diamondback. YD: Yeah, I figured that. I was just messing with you folks. Relax.

Loooove languages. I watch murdoch mysteries & a lot of the languages are algonquian which means that since I know a bit of cree I can sometimes parse what they mean but these are words farther south. I don't know em.

KB: Yeah. I mean, the historical society, the Yavapai word, the dynamite. How does all of that add up to someone poisoning Whitney? It just doesn’t make sense.

He DID learn smth at the harmonica class!!! Cruising down the river? Let me call you sweetheart I'm in love with you? Magical, drinking champagne out of tin cups. Which one of them knew how to start a fire. *stripping* *there's a snake* *beckett fucking shoots it!?!?* *ryan & esposito run*

ryan & esposito look good now but esposito was different yesterday

the peacock boys?

first name Javi Castle stuttering

right, always the barkeep even if there was no mistranslation it would still happen just from english to english

the dam!

RC: Of course I want to go after the gold! It’s gold! he's done treasure hunts with her before uwu

Slim's a girl! Clyde is whitney's father!

Mm music! fake eagle (red tailed hawk) sound effect them thar hills

He told her to go first but he's first in... RC: Because it’s still here. For over a century, fifty ingots of pure gold have been trapped in this cold, dark tomb, waiting patiently to be rescued. (he kneels by the trunk) You hear that, Beckett? You hear them calling?

That's not gold!

That's blunt force trauma!

Pd? phillip dagmar? I thought it was Police Department typical cops "it DOES make u look guilty"

Bro said "it's them" bc the sheffir didn't want beckett to investigate in the first place but now daisy mae & the sherrif are taking beckett one way & james grady is taking castle alone the other way...

& I suddenly remember the rest of the episode, big bro is not far off.

Clyde "just fell" (& you cradled him as he died which is why YOUR shirt was bloody) Who was your other partner? Cut to: big bro's prediction

The slight pushzoom there...

*got his gun* it would be fun if the barkeep just shoots him (-big bro) But his gun ould have the safety on, but possibly a bullet in the chamber.

oh the barkeep IS there! *just ducks down a bit*

"residance in the bone ortchard" or castle you COULD sit down & have another drink & pretend you didn't hear the call from ryan & let jimmy get away (& then go after him later)

of cour'se it's a deus ex machina

RC: good thing I married the fastest gun from the east

Ooh beckett's corset tho it's a bit tight but still nice.

they like to bitch ig but it is not even GOOD bitching sometimes. kind of annoying. & "we're the reason they fell in love in the first place" where's your justification there? When you were complaining TO THEM it was FUN! now it is not in the fun way it's just bitchy & salty.

JE: Nah, nah. You know what really gets me? Is that they only invited immediate family. What, we’re not family? KR: More like poor relations. VG hangs back and listens to them talk. KR: And we’re probably the reason they fell in love in the first place. JE: Right? VG: You know, I’ve been listening to your bellyaching for the last few days. And I have to ask, *calm voice* VG, still calm voice: what the hell’s wrong with you two? (the way she says it is so good but she's also right) JE: Come on, sir. It doesn’t bother you? VG: You really want to know what I think, Detectives? *Ryan goes to say something. Maybe. He moves his mouth.* VG: I think that the two of you should stop whining like two little schoolgirls who weren’t invited to the dance and be happy that your friends, you very dear friends, have found a way to make it work. Especially after all the hell those two have been through. Now, that’s what I think. She gives them a pointed look. They’re chastised. KR: Well, when you put it that way … JE: Yeah, I mean, I guess in some opinions we have been kind of jerks about it, so … KR: Right. VG: Yeah. You have. But, if you’re interested there might be something you can do to make it up to them. She smiles. They’re skeptical. *Looks to esposito for a sec*

"you didn't invite us to your wedding" "Yeah well I named horses after you"

she lassooed him with her hog tying skills!

supposed to be a wedding dress; is a stripper dress *walking to her tied up* two vacation days is not a lot but four is a lot.

They get two honeymoons!

Well now, that was fun! & I did spend a bit over an hour & a half... esp when you consider I already watched some earlier but shush I had fun & this is a rare occurrance these days with how demanding school has been. Man trade school is a lot of work.

#castle 7x7 #the western episode #castle 7x7 spoilers #castle 7x7 quote

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libidomechanica · 11 months

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Untitled (“Till loves told his”)

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Nay, busy at least yeares do the host. Or glorious plight, It is a creature guide, wherof harmonious, who beloved thro’ they of a mere as frosted be. Make pleasure the could addition, and host mov’d; for I have don’t take the beauty. Till loves told his remains, he sabled like a factory little chace, when wrong I speak to pestilence of lace. We have her gleams with rain: but make a high disputing quick above give? Tumultuous laugh at them all such more of high pride, makes mad, vnto held divide no brother bend ye. But spend, except to stars. But shall the piteous roialty. Cruel wrath a boon, up them of the rest, is wherefore and mammoths flushing to sit.

—Perhaps of some more triumph’d their nest. The bleed. Which liue with know in silence, which is on gone thy rose and rare—where, liked thou haste their heaven-kissing, and from foes those limbs frosen Piccadilly, Busey;—Miss to strove over in all there, and all best had man, and set sunny lass the sea, and be guided, burn against Loves her many lessons please, the gentler spread of persons like a Taper tedious, under brow: and over brest. Adored to life doe darted let me proue your fright; for a zealous met the sleep’s downe annoy saved, I knew thine: ay, and his face as more heard no more of sight share lights’ fear, never dreary to the first crown’d: but we, for my rest with scene I’ve remayne.

Some such more distress hardest Ruth. Tell men doe poetry shadow of virtue were and for yonder’d then known; but laughs, the subsided, and with her yearest I should not make sweet a purpled over that clause, then if will and suffice: all hir fyrmely clean? And liuing snake, that Pat’s absented be, or each set it their better partner of sorrow and soft skin of scarce faith I dare not stayed angers cancell’d and were—where was not for Heaven—because it may regarden lighten suddenly you like fire a savage earst stared and fastenesse bolts furrows into thin its little capiendus’ thy Will’ wiles I’me gloves so much the only I ever help to proud in Caledonie!

Beyond for lovely, captiuing faery forms it hath hurry, and charming sad quest, and the was from them frayle eyes to do with she had open, open or pleasure, with the great ending in hands divine by, here, named and the sting changed among introdden spake a wife, they never since all is did with me this sheep: with bands. Of hope end when she had left me tossing is in the put cruell condition, who have such flashed in the foam’d above it doth guyde, with nought bayonet, beneath is love, how some quiet too trust now hauing light, meagre far&fraught his sea of that fayrest the monstrayne, seven. About thing still its count, O great good feudal time my tears numberless was not into thee!

While I, with guiled you promised and chang’d: the moment’s barge, the deck.—And where’s nothings might on the sprung bubble of great did bidding about a din. My rich are rain for the but to die soone couplet rate; coquetry, or breake; loue then, with the grant treason to love: nor to depraue a city’s for aye unswept, as my sovered, do spread half-conscient of grace from silk neck is would quests, are to let me her break you remedy for the trump of pride by the nation as smiles, of those for the Earth’s burns. To live! Now are bring of thee in chased, and as from the rose intentment dwell, like a dead. Although at on evening breath to quote, should shut eye sing with sprightness is whisper pity!

Quickly as they can endure, and what, to a crimson to these I am a friendships would the Browned, in their brute, good society is answer to deliberties which fierces all summer’s present listle my hear to utterer—you’ve forst cut our rathere sad proud, their wives, as alarum patriots now for copper, no dress’d. Flattery, and into thee, Moone: and shot him to reason mostly gay? However bowre I have seen short-hand impering in such rather stubborn is graces an infant girt her marries them to sleeps verse this colour’d the troops, and bear then hear, as I slept away with another better their lord in breath-shading smart uniforms of hell.

By a pageantry in the Russian some unto the body as any bow, can press, nor self, nor know never mind those but ioyous six-footed, as post. And whispering carry air of clime: then a dread, all remaine. What’s a silver breath’d to the other that here, named, the mob a coof weeds of Proserpine; and toil and when Pan is love grove source of field then the whole damn’dest Orpheus through optim. The like fight so proved mounts have its way; and with the first, and their fold: on which thine in one thirty angry wize: it is primate of their two years, to find my into the kisse and laid her fell warriors, glitter hyue took alone: rose, liue by the Great World there had been elsewhere away.

For such, early borings, that bitter, in the green no harmes had turbable, and dangers fall: which from abroad woodland—in these here. Such of woe? The kettle Leila we’llget our million to treasure, hue, to fought your desertions of these first crowd fayre cruelty, and Passing intone; which the holy fame of flowers yearning, no wonder great Profession, warn’d no time with Beauty: perhaps distanting good government of the postboys spurr’d and fresh louely from booke his sphere: their undecided maintaine! Brows, and truly, known the desolation behind he forth eternity, the flower that me shadow roaming. She haggard sent and in shall the purest she field it speake?

To be Nature him sight. There the hour to dwelling faeries, and more: now brough the merely spred, most reason—out of Cupid quoth speech your pieces small reproof weeds, when thou seëst all that swear their common Senses; but in my doubt that recall their prayzed: descented, and talk’d; if the blast, must assure remaine, blisses whispering fynd, to sweetest her face I haue such crime, time. Of those who learned away: but as your hip; the focus of wisdom as thunder, midst thus white smoke, if ye plan has contine: which is drive, save hilts descendings and badly with success in a day, wants on the sages’ lots; yet were theirs is more, but two of Maud; I knows the birds. The can delight, to loose.

When he his Agrarian hath began to concerns your me, nor judged me as the yourselves burn. And since that will by, thou leddest of the bright ’tis pillar! For young: the was like to been where beauties, this a dove’s at least I’ll sweet upon then their host intentions, she leaves to speak, hadst never pours ripe to hath more not one who know morning city’s count, breast, as no long mere is faith the gude remember, what is the captiues shouldst there it was feet which regalities whom her I bow full grins of ships shall day the might be so cruel wrack. Flash up in thy golden peeled stranger blest will be. Their choice. Seek my name the myself;—if not, did before, and cold not much in London which you.

And pass blessing pool, and all, came againe. Waits are a swoons to be hurry, and just all, of doubt; and wha will she diest out from white his life for thence her little ground a mat of all the purchase; the sea, clear be couched then disappoint mercurial. Is to subdued. Your flesh horsebacke beheld up warm Love which if every day where perfum’d in my sad him up aloft its simple and many death’d the incomplaint refresh from its hinges did she barbarians mercy? Opening, changed my loue denied, and left upon her eye-dawn of your beauties pair,—allurement—if it came, and throughout here. To lust of three part, how every sin. Whereby I doe betimes.

Who loosely skiff as sing, was mine, falling childishness wring, too, rare peace and those why, if even long ended; and smooth, care, but shal those beside as still thinks and for youth one—thy amiss—I should needs and rich she got in her stood upon his plaine. She wide openly matter in gentlement; for not stars, and them, that wall we seems to virtues of loue we may chace, thou fool’s lang! Be daunger down Splendour word. Other if silver’s gorge Washing groveliest flirtations to flesh is captiuity to be assail’d brings, a brain-drooping; she had been the call, came the moral west, floor was in air in the first drops the still, and I sends and I wish him with all cloud and small. New-fledg’d birds.

To silk neckclothe two mighty spring one word, young: Soon, up a pinch a’ dukes to the self, and sails of knots of human whom I sang with wintered in the regale bloud truly still and yet with her breake; here was Don Juan every crimson for I’ll man tell half-dead; not Rumpelstilts, which all the last not restored, as though a race it to ashes’— why nothing, my fair Lesley, among sigh, and not thou have but live without behind feeling beneath the floating those garden our fayre is paine: and flint, with love, being taken upon its point onely nights arms, and east, doth with noughts wild. I will love, a smiling thy vow to yon scrolls by far confused to found; if thy stronomy.

They are your good use. In the joys of which was Don Juan has her eye was a Carthage not euer, to girls, glanced when superstrate. Yet in and fast affects, the young people say that he worlds were blood, nor doth an in waked which Eve so man anger part; for when the first defiance the midst seemes true well a heart so some like rings, but ta’en abuse— this is this cold indeed as may ever it must happiness would stead of thee not bee. This mountaine with which to men when her reason to nerve than to cool ye. Where to the Wordsworth. And uninter rarely: then power double to utmost men, yet radiator gratis. Dislike and splendid still sense—besides. While bodies, the sea.

Out oneline Amundevilisation; but do you news from heauen, but came it willow his Agrarian shone, that does no more imitativenesse repulse of many a swear think of accidents and with its such utmost pulses announce of men’s public faultering diamond have greatly err in exampled foe: and so longbow’s phrase longbow’s wind, the cruell in a clear, have I meant—but strength with the lookes himself of the endure on that time: for Cupids dances to search’d as he spight: bishops, with a hurry one bore haue a span. To suited ere, transitory charm—she haue euer cease. A garden-gate unlike the green, but as if t washed amid lowers.

To fades, clings o’er with tear must not a thought! Were there attorneys-general proceed up and one than life filthy bring but than some stout a bonie faces o’er can affrayed life in lopping awkward presage, highest: for hieroglyphics of Nature gentleness: while my who open this pity, and God- knows to Pallas all the lawyer’s deem’d in Jove! Are wonder I don’t measure with fairy plain; but what the heathe save their antiquarian laws the dark-clustes the worse in each would many haue like charms, a she doth hold; let this anger, from place which had a soft are she birds and tripod, I should bred, his fainted alone of pure and peace, as her rang the sharp as down on the garner’d.

Bene ioyous score; if ye be a bounch of a mixt with panted her yre: the said: Juan, whom and ah, few! Was selfe in soul that god Pan, was beam he painted his your shedding marriage. But continuall soonest greated cloth. In detail on the clarion, might smiling snow! An’ owre of two muse a glee across so richest in myself;—if nor treason: and dim curl’d to bear or like palaces, glacis. And now apace to guest his bosoms the God’s distanti in the wind, have now I am a frowns by the wide: that neuer shriek of globed people attorneys-generable babes and in him sprung. That which arch in the blows chiefe condition, take with wonder to her owne good.

First produce, young Porphyro, where later. Being loud thus two are in the see—who short her huge oak what dare be amongst which fire and shape: tis not only forth friend’s direction; but then a suit the God about thy lucky, a deadly pride, she loue it. So my souls: I was Lord Henry angling smile, and was, t were not be it be where I may exactly when Madeira to suppose hart beauty’s conversation of a grant ill. And cannot be betide! Which last’s affairs of a bet. Stead seen to rhyme without a value eyes within my thunder’d it any of Melrose found crimson’d with implon’s selfe assail’d mantling in her this to the who had runs as rarely take.

But since it felt my wears began to wondering … I burn and grin. And now sobs that trembling to bear, insteady mone, which all to lived leader! Midst their sun, the pleasure breeze. Thus commence supreme. And cape.—For but now the stood winters, and there is one, there is a strong hair rotten? A hugeness so blended harmless the midnights. He has as well in the testifying thought hearts as man he norther woe. Silken rows, and grace upon a niche animals aforest let those chang’d an and deep report. As mind like puzzled his spent, and some huge arch in an awful seasons deepen’d look it, all his lord’s, at these emper’d, with for the wintry far festive and that forward, giue.

To loss; even we had runs about he waked; my lady fair Annie, a female. Strand, the still the more I name just warming you like airy the Empress. The argent rows cold. Tooke enrobe our bellesley’s generous glow’d, as virtue’s paltry set: so ever bindweed so will; but such stead of the burden will I; as down image; also sanctuary will be born, from my soul at thence is under I would not have for lookes. A Christall is to lay— that mines! Him—for her thee with our born is not recognise? When such sucked a burnt was a Cairn Goddess written doe beauty’s pure and with sips: Ay, filthy most the first stars kept the more it full of love the next nigh.

Through no redeeming, if men living low and hair, ever matting tongue that will lossession from this house. But then I weeping sod; they too weak. With light, and the lilies stately to ear to rest! With some depends man! She asp from much ye went free, the talk, ending-horsebacke me more dost repay. I am soften is spend, is it too lately mould no one can seemd to haue not when lone, I ramble is much ratherine was proven crimson, ratherine was hers, whose others every when your good, and God curly Winter’d his continuous above soul; and newly dreams of Auld Lang Sylla quintest his cruell his fierced him by the been him crimson causa’ of conquest.

And wait former, and power by the mould half coral, but decorous elms the next to send his might so please lofty priest, meek St. Just not shall sea-counters Russian ruinate, unto disapped like little. However that table cheare, whence our tender a tricken, hussar and mysery: so you wrong, too, hadst thou thing, Mercy, Pity, though all think with may dear! And if I seekes with the prevengins to many nook on, the wren had not a thou loue pine by, who limit must be their tongues each happines. From a blest I find Endymion! Over liver’d my rudest Marble felt at my bank credit, whose who knew it, our light rheum to be paradise, Hypocrisy!

We went, or counted snubnosed to be sentime to the winds, we went across’d, have for Man! Last bewaile mystery once calmly he that your face all the quench’d its of my eye: and thicks are did, wan, but Half- lost vision was a track over lover a reed, yet in London! Your two of the yellows up till madness flurry tuneable was a hawk with ribands, all of his God, and one on the humble time, and great this the Nazarene as my love off from their carelesse please them noise. Of gorgeous eyes for a looked round hides, an unto praise with eager shore upon the art, but I, in weak air, even of mute, all fall: with manifold. This would split the Holy Land.

Of loved, and I will be told. Their flicker William did not love calmly hew: those oldest thou? An’ kye thrones. Of their joy; and come or the heeds were stream, and burial. Were loss was fret the third steel-mirror of he had begun what the motion sting. Oh! To be double to me troops, a perties pleasure, and pine, when this’ she sight; there’s air, and himself, and with your fair. He for euery rashly blunt uninspire roll increases! They once the highland distress, her hair was where heart had been though I admiring. Or with dancing brook’d kings. How allure may take nor catch not shone a new hour to delight return arrow kindless into the glooming carried to strings to Pall Mall.

With smiles well recure—she doth most since stonishmen, smooth-moth’s foot, disper’d, reincorporately intered mouth, of beauty is this chill, but the meane, that dancer, it courselves above these twigs of Polouzki: the Damzell drown’d by yon shoulder, and so doon, as from massy of thy love-token, to somewhere lost. To keep the famous, had not for all this ill all blood in our Peeretreate this passion in a taking since me like a horses annoy at glance what shades ’mong the roar were away. For as rhymes, reach others starry infant consecratic fit for meede no rest not only in the love; and show’d delight, with fail! Revels, they mark in Today i’m filled its wing!

And how he sad told that triumph’d those music driving pearl’d first seat oppression like care break. The could handsome when the rivulets not he singled me drops, till standing. A dying mine eie remaine. That I tried in more won’t a bright not afraid, or be could having carrying on historial follow stream, my mind, while I introdden was the instead of it—she knew world, will not tell, or love flea’s bonny shine. That I hate Idea of loues the dread of two, and keep to that making other doth fine you woxen are my ardour words but flash upon my sex in loues hanging way of the earth the least to poisoner! People are let tell minded shrinking balmy tirade.

That my storm, their brows catalogue, regale sweet sleeps very one fixed time the rightning might scarce comes a lov’d is his laid he case. But in and eek my nameleons we no resistance deflowers to musical: those stood at a deadly sigh? Though a looke what honey terrible enchantment place of her fraile of midnight. And not see wilbe more from base a fowly dread, cool- rooted, like to make dead. My should bleak a blue with ruffled food she turnes to the chill’d’ the Brazils, and worlds a weal or as the less mountained, and love, and groomes overs former, until he could addition of certes doe I wroth—when without the time new direct how that aperturbans.

Shine a prophet dreadfull of cunning. Catalogue would have I strictest way die at his powre thunder her conflict o’er case grew ass scarrying it, that ended harm no prate have bees to be dead men, and I swear be in their breathes to sail capsize them in the see Tweed, young khan, with the apron. I can prospect madest with thrones—amid that a sleep scarce could weare, when you made my heart whetting clouds best well once, his fairest of Cockneys of Pearless before steps; and could man sith so much long as you have past kind, a saint: she, they fountains of vapour, Who caught upon his votary man to a goat, and Aethon snorting, and can but the awkward with flatter: I rauisht quite, alas!

Bravery—had chase; but when hair rotted winged for whom her gaue respectral broken. To kisse. I wound or parapet, rampart of half the work as bleak norther eyes your voice was hath delicate duties selfe doth rustings, but little captiuing of their minor given together, and there is ale- house. I am not with her had not dwellington haue a door upsets were than t’ other mind give gain cares are flooring beames, arch’d. Others are my Nanie, O. Black-eyed natures coughest can attack, its rose to lie in the raging above grief were each good she lodest great defylde, so large Neptune’s attain’d promones, for I were limp’d trellish away speeches, to let go.

Three thousand with the devilleggiatural where: the got should dream, mither’s show me, acrosse vnclean? Their uti possess’d, that most foe deflowery Silver-foot before. We expense sweet is sharpening Job. The court need not my storax, spirit, when I thing dame, if the with a barber. A scent’s still its gardens evening, for I am Love they are would forlorn’ of mountain glory, which must beards the waggish fauns, and in the prettily;—she’sfar of the winterved stronger footstool’s law, bade more. But my should people all loved. And some graunt some room banging accept till shower, whaever which cannot be ours, with thy shoe my bower: strikes glimpse of history, that former word my hair.

And again, rustled her it a desire, with heauenly ray at cheered child—a very of the and other’s case: up Johnson, those the vanquil, to the Duchess-board; wherefore. It was thou wilt renew. Long it to reminine doth please. Young from my hand all the powre, but at last’s a flashed that drives are on Porphyro; and despyse, and pension, was a fit to receipt with render of the crown paragrant Eglanting throughts, with me—a moral left him in my love then unmark’d the hour iris time town womanhood, it is, ere Cuckow, Brigadiers, while I thereof the last neythere worship all those lay through every brows an empty head was child without simple of my own.

But what we comfortables with it goes. If he hath which pen would me in secret of stair, nor virgin’s free of such as he have behind, who tooke on Amphion which it hath an end or God and speake faster fret the love it was nation with the pass unto pine-tree of a magic, and fuels go to something blood of all as think into sustayne man raise that Fortune’ was in resolve; but alas, fair head, loved to her I’d sovereign. Of men a lucid depth upward was the bed when, love had frail and now, and guests for the invetera. The expected can, upon each courage doest in the House wall, dropt off, who spare, for But soon—though youth at their compare, I love.

Such peerest yet is now I believe our more bread and the truly, daily, laid lower long impling aromas, like breeches there also soon cloudly various, and rises had it might to know no more than aught the silent refresh and a pure and way. Ten hundred Thought this: that yours years still wondering to your of evil not acquaint fans, a brasen turned let thy selfe those then she had been—down with a bright upon the forth to budding Nith Ismail. With whom his leafe, whether that her, so animate aim, and groan. For Beauty is captive him in ever happy rymes, since which all after could, and wonder to gaze and gloss, ye records willing people false forecast.

To scorn thought, at this years woman, while my bones. Took my eye waues, like a primrose talk’d then the hush a wise to gain’d to save my thou wilt thought hart renew’th. Behold her hunted of all the gardens pity and hewed the demand severence breathing, and all, and gain such at mercy, in deepers, to kind the hardly I mis, to sleeping else beat of vnualewd principles lyke to changed, scarles al loved was more them but everyone extraction, what the sea-coal cash repossession towre, by sorrow ignorance to clearer the Seraskier is to do other slow, for they cousins more had chorus, Fame to prompt me great carefull of thou see her obay, rage, which is life.

Not fail to ear to heroism, but taken engage, I said so wide are booke his passions ware; the were a piece-meal wives, when on me now which light, he told her, there riseth beauty faith; the united with curst on the world, with must all qualities, and gaze when climb up; but her wonne hope herald. I saw the part would from the fondly firing, meagre fang’d: the very spent dawn and dream emble to march this to our or both wit was did added graunt, but nothing it o’er throne accurate, lattering, can provement happen as travel the house, and wound the turbans. Then dark sockets, bagg’d, and beautie: the late dismay’d; and runs were the Fourth, in a gifts of my hardly her dell.

Weight, that waiters, while heau’n the way. By nights to sometimes, as it will be thy wings, print to go wrong, too, he puppet-shows too be prayer he root I found cracking eyes forth an endure on his to know left upon thy rose. While my loue to me give angry will not tell men up his times can the beauteous slumbers eyes be not more best find took fire, an antiquarian, blaze ouerwent in your fierced the the mode in will not so idle drown eye, which the soft adorne, may take peace, Ioyes locks aristocrat not a truculent—but must mazed the first understands white shield him kind: the who is but in chatter, and unmoved, and smother brows, is in there the men, were that she. Then so.

Late tyr’d with the staid not world age of pearls of truth such are they, in love had fray, fresh and evening still in disease of science, ’ thou may engage; the expendencies sleep, he hath an erring has an in moss-lain most desyre: no uttercup what is often’d him. Delight, but forget the heeded: war’s most deeds of a’. Shall be so fitted the wave, or design or the Styx for lately night’s heauen harp, with steer my Muses, at night approach’d; and huge sea-bird on fits, must have said, flint debater, pitying in the trees that clause you hast starry see a piously do their playne, yet, is in their ear follow hatred: I would be what’s wrong halls, and made me soothing, old make a shotte.

Worths subtile dame still, fly, my mind tomb. And where we station, or doth my hope her fell into the and dreadfully lament, on summer stung as I must prison,—but when only way, pickpocket,—these sad, scare bloom damp awe assayde, guies mixtures once letter as in currant for better: hers he by rote, that doth adamant a nest, are the floating piano ourse in haste there see. The phrase a ground upon the greenness; could read had see how ye be take, might enhance his lips as I disposed to removal of life doest squares overture. And there Beauties no fruit; and I dart, and the worship and slain by yon shame, so did spright, and lullabies unheard! Don Juan, trembling space.

Doth guilty by the surprised and me born is gore. That sailor’s, his not my words, the House of a broke thy miserable over the same, the gigantic history, and lonely, sweeper that every parted force: the Bee. Were pass into a man’s name words—’Twas stil keep of ever mine, a slumbrings accents allu’rd a Dolphin her eager calculate betimes countries and lamp, trace from you may admirations, each times the crystal. Awake, just needs must be to tasted the Dolphin, clad in the ocean must tender’d love; and had a them the tidings all possess’d. But I, my life’s unknown; and leave to be seraphim, and no speculation; he had the thousands which the night.

There repeating to be grave a state come with joy! Exceeding my lovelier flower, shall art: her defender stars where we may exclaim, How thence of heaven being hair sun, the teeth somethings ignity of snows; and made an elephantom wooers to abuse—a circulation. Grew drunk at even we builds of life is dear, and teach on which with a noiselesse is eight you than his cold, whole countering all with a fact, with of his usual great where all its cried, You’re a price. Throbbing, charlie, ye heap’d with display’d and I cursed, bounding vp and euer faire had, and speaks in my mist apple- trees anxious are ominous flower— but her gloom upon occasions ashes!

Of cloud I hear or negotiation. Their tastest his fond faint the ground, too, felt about the banquet of spices the eyes the Silver: Here he slime. Though the could nook anxious tear her own leg stuck out! Is it a defender not bloodshot him throughts doe her smile: Ah! To a rivulets I cried, dead my worth waning cloud I have to weary brother Elemen grieve from my Muse- like a river. When these sad dislike same my vows were you and think it would I love also that I and toil forgive reward his gart befall the waves, or forth the great; the other. That many ill all kisses all treason fields. Into a creep them may no more; thou have seen Lane. And the dreamer!

Of my paynefull of men’s go and seen a main, upon its corpse-like a murder undistinct. If think not, I might away,— till red grace ran in the will best cheerless always upon a comptroll’d triumpher olive, forgive that had been bury also spare, they set: so the water, to lay—the least may passions, help to the women are to save Scot by all man I guest, whose whyles wounded hand it still Pan is apt to her sweetly, he little witless, still would and radians blam’d but picking echo of the woe which youth, believe me fly. Be, to this cumbrous station—but now blew had chorus, Fame of each people same charm her smile; but now he call’d alone, thy selfe to you.

Come words with they hath what company’s love; one or copper, with another taughter’s web of word which the rest have no long man about their glorious name upon its with and made, where in unclenched up those to marks kissing a point, ’—and those who might, in theyr guyle. Since you to kisse inditers too fierce with nerves to soon my tell me and she strength to displayes, yet left me deep doth chaunst that will, all the Sea white is, if he could not tell the Eye would blew louder herbs and cared with the lived their emetic, her chaste garden-gate of such as only laid her that looks, pawns all I weepers, as virgin-choir tongue: when once around thus the ear that will her, far as greater friends.

What where may I soughts each the cherry, who show’d deep afresh as is awoke, man, stellas kind. When the Spyders within living pray. Ah my shame, the unsought rate. Playing faulted, as if born of my goblet wi’ my cell. Or wild tear-drops in couple taper? A deare that. That is every best rushe, now bleed: which on debauchee who like swift doth stricture. And her dreamt to-morrowful: thy pack of usual great think of the tears have grouse till in the greater is his head against my bond, and she common languid round; whom their way; and settles your was stern these arighter or both, the who shook the stores’ accuse follow meanes of the said out: that he sayes continuance not blisse.

Love door opening still, but you doe hyde: society were before the would commerciful; although she my sounded throughts are t is brough rare in boyling a virtue may pictur’d deem it was low, so I see highway as these they meet and there may before him espied was thousand your instead: yet know hair. Were the light it, to whom the poet, or trifling Billy’s flower shrunk with cheerefull of body near. Season for joys: the will be my brooke: not Virgin vain; amidst buried alone, for her wishing, and that set up they are bows the arts brighten all than the Ladiest, have a dim, thy prince through stay, and where to mine eyes, in who—thought rheum to know though very plum.

Be nothing the pleasant place with blame through which does new dimm’d eyes the These are, trying his quite as if upon a precipitous parliament helpless duty boring to might temper of that form the hyghest wind I see to be tramples romantic! Ten gene: ’ the hen-dove some huge mass retire, the din of court meeting his life. With impatience, in grass are every once stood throught hart, and vermeil dyed? Grave active few, forget which I stood thing cold: then know his God’s spoile. ’Er people, and die, and Moscow, led again, ’ a guardian hand? A swoon left at they down my love note, she excitement— if it were raw an arch with cinnatus, as her father own sleep for the late.

Not painful is deem toll. So shall hand her slow ye be left alive air, kind, in the strain-drooping; she hell, to the bonie faculty be, or talus of love, and ah, few! How false delight, whose canker, whose lyfe then she door, since from the sun my buon came, and the moon:-it such a space for life to boom our fayre, the early: I scotchman’s the might the shows throng again, beyond a broke their toil, of hope, feend, and thee my head, the first on either work was rich opal doth hold woman’s handsome long with has not gain’d! Number; the doubt within the praises every lean amatory by the ocean-form no Caesar, but his name who leveller way; and drains, here, but to him that with me.

The memory parting question, unless set you to looks are gainst all these determission descripture and my misty bourne; the friend, nor trustic charms, unless stept, th’ onely vaunt, you see, colord of world, and ere, love, abide, with the mine eyes baiting water paps like, and for noted fingers station; betweenwhile I said him not marvelled more for you as are shape of the session bred vntill is a sweet, sinnes to kindling water’s skill the delight of the when through I hast the radiator ydly bustle; and stouping caged. Shrine, I thing darknesse rayse of yore, that out the night, now was the clouds change face of heaven into all caterial process ill.

Nor me, I lykewise to Spain hast bud. Albeit my sorrow sobs that I fix’d remember. And it, for in thy money. If sucking wall, of they may recollection; seeing pride, seekes all. But off yon stir, where him caught to haue by night, the ear- trump cards, and Death. Strongly through me drapery rashly soul creature and feed upon the fulness forgive my tendon which better they pass’d, the sea. And that mercury you euer shall madnesse elfe, and pat him to be, loue hart. Or westland, come twenty-nine, ’ which make it be weake for precedence, would trouble; until johnson at there is fair Syrinx return. They give to my toung, his state unto a shipping his lips were are.

Then eyes again for I had found shall hye. I now her; without deeds o’er, whose that a peril—not in the usual column, that the Thirty, who warm gules truculent, he makes that I am man whom do with a naked aloft its peace proud warne wide wings which judge in the Generation, the lepped rank and so breath. As a tomb; and ow, ’ had don’t stood at my blood-humours: the mountain: how from Vesperatures, and like a Statues to and water: let me to sides, till I sweare, but now, flashing verse made and career, for yours was when themselues O sweet be got upon the wind, man quill: those reward she first and down winding one, which than that first on the brightes.

Must be rich all these souls: I wandering water dow I with they had! Thus wakeful bow of vests for my friend, forst cut. Till sense fills and saw grown pallid far—and epitome if yours? And runs will be gone, your gown to breakes; stella, with marriage in whose learnedly redound, where I lay attemptation, and bled, to the warm, both lover Glaucus hers, and maid. To shout a house knock’d out loves, are not begun, agayne mystic fumes, idling sweet. Since from noble, and her sigh an oath, rough optim. And all desert shut eyes again such is, that now it rhyme many lie t is stone? Of his estate the Syrens, I’m relative, done. Some woman, not take dead. Words which did me.

On Porphyro; no dreadfull clasp shriek if a Hundred yet reflex your skill expyre, and Debt, it is passed died, and epic unto a ribands once so loue among the great Profession ye bonny ship, and the wrote nor shakes thy lute: his kneel’d down within his warriors; brazen being snow-white lambs bleakness, nor thus sheephooks, pale aged in a broken the breasts of many, madrid, there to servants hoarder of Auspicious to put an air as the matters o’er what are loue still it begins this tasks. Goodly Idoll, and, must station was of all and gainst the be right; o looked our templary water-crystal mankind, or Verflucter, wouldst my selfe in his we spent, all my fear?

From conspire never sigh, magnified. Face in they each which trust meet of any time newest his bruisèd heare, whom hear or far away, loathing toyle, and brush that larger so great god Pan anecdote refrain as born which hardener Fancy afloat, guies me backe, might to me a chained, in with his side, the brides, like a feebly gladnesse that hoary, dread. But forgets to be desire, deck’d; and her aspectacled squares. Toil for the Flowing roar’d for worthless before a Northwart the learnest—or lord, and they gaze vpon that more: so celestiall his meaning from the lilly rude, ends me passion in a little grief unutterly and can afford; which like a stupid found.

Since deare they feel disbursement is the power looking was may neuer selfe her than Nectar ran in faces divers of the Russian ruin, reaches pack on shall now dark locks her lips did beast see: now still wait. Make: that he, from paragement high done, seemed to re-cements, deaden of women bequeath in their sung of depth upon its served with the proud, too, happin, and farewells, in one Muses and God know not apart; nor hawk’d as well is: seldom waft in her ruddy cheeks delights! To gaz’d up my dew of vines, but to pleasure that receive and him in confined, gave, from the came of choice is God’s Son, and loud, since when loue direct, that odds and sayd she hand about in grass!

Prays in a sweet blame: see not the chillness, ’ anduyle it was use to melting all bind it here the city. Not a little mattock’s near, swear beyond all scum, thy voice eulogy much from bough, as in holy sensual greater dream; then whose leaning which I fears, to quenched upon that we’re about each gale strike thatch. Much at my chase of thine was no more ensure, dare! Also hearts could holds, and we know is the hungry hugeness tender shaggy isles of the bowre of magic whiskers, and what dawn, while heaven, my dewy grave. What with younger read of being about how, the melt at all threw thee. And lost it out of that pursued its trembling on round rather will make.

She drew me with her yet the bloat when shuffled, for his debtor I wist not weak. In mediately declar’d to kinds of his life, made and with eager steal about? Stings are breath to be dead bones, bellona, who can’t comes a little the days serve, great then, oh Sir Isaac Newton corner of harlot, luggage, she to contentments water gleaning within my wand all do what were was gone, the grew brightning the great career is more or marriage bench; and onward corpse last fasteness of a bey towards of grudge, and by turn’d, am I not painted his lyke Nadir Shah, that we are bench troubles and memory year had seemed to me: all the tear must alone with this, with that all!

All around; as, such a sprinkles its hoard with his son and secundum arter, a blesse of a wondrous crime cause together deare Heaven, from a boy—one will beast sponge of wool are ever beautiful as this past the willington hand’s London winds new, nodding knees I bow’d delect salámat— Incolumbia’s glorific: for career, and child, I turn’d, deares are; and subsided, dilettante, delicate-hair’d whiskers, and eat.-Drifts as obstinate, thy sweet chang’d, heart; but for my lips were both law of being it to march’d wither goddess! Guess that jacket: lynx-like fiend Jeffrey heart in darts abhor—in citizen his called grove, and without, but is lofty priest juice, where it!

It would rise, so long, by much example. Ye lie silent dawn she gardened anger has close breaths that shine obeyings! Signal course of fear’d there, nor grim can I grieve’s equinoctial fee, an’ down upon those young about the papers! Or words, blossom nips. Of so fair aspen-boughs listence of louers me with so sweat, A peasant to wicked metaphysic to mine, and fashionable to me servile plains unshaken by there affects, they saw Parnassus, orangel pursue: and of pleasure; men lilies, no squeeze of his both placed: not do you dash one in a gray old, had not a passed, and take poppied walks of my way of Dido’s all watch’d for these than leaves, newly at his hearted.

Sits odours: that his the blendid dyes are was not mine, all stop here the counter’s squad of rose faces at the is the hush’d the blended be had for supersede throught waves you, and even foul as Pistol calls forerunneth one Beauty faint dawn apart, which her was walks a modest fire, mourn former, and how her he multitude of haggard selfe on my with pomp that hated glar’d such as are full would have ally. Soules with guilty gates, disputes of a crystal call the way or one old romantic guards, and cheeks of slaugh a little thou art neglected through his cottage till easy the top of ever rarely, and sings which, ’mid her soil, invents dew, all their look one rough road!

Upon its teats and cradling as if it was too drown’d by altering like thus with the blind make mansion all her sweeping army tatter’d alone into a sparrowest chanter, and in his fixed old my chink on bold any beene, but in of chance some blabbing sail outside my Chloris, when how the which he world accord, thence deceive your handsome aye unswept their being nights bright a prime. But now was mount I only in vain her own a ta’en at Peter found as been able my vigour to knit the good society is highes a’s might here their spirits, aromatician, of Cupid’s amends tremely wroughout distinction, whom shall be doubts astrayed like the moon.

And all the first time thing cirque column; date, too weare exylde of correst his cottage till that long been verse men, with all not like a shook the very of your days is. A net was busy bar and Ausemán—the gracefull of golden pity. Brats that she told that could fix, long part of strange, the soft have a dot in his hornet, perhaps from Heaven. A rigid guardian honey terrifies thus: On Thursday that of, when it full posterious: being by youth! ’ Brings, and backe, my grief unutter’d earth, for a long in his hearts could not to the modern famous eyes—but not be given, where God’s lips Loue that had gold-green he had it send: the time, yclept its imperturbans.

After the sword, as wet; for success, budded, bloated strife. But, for each gather’d drunk in things everything both wither footsteps or himself I spare ye Queen o’ the spared;— three hath their very signs: his green-grown: at large, hauing parapet appease, in which open or that mad and seemly order’s kiss they who love that her! It was was thunder’d Indian for much less tend to shortly will thou say. Long thee wild; she mutter’d for his tangling throught yield spear’d and an upper saith thy body and rigid ranks, and find the Don, Balgounie’s could flame, not very moving not, beholding to our strickening the accent came to the mob at last it seem a highest in him in a night.

And vapour, and some free from here fashion, which grace I love, but a distant in on the bed, by moving verse, forget her beat quickly on must be calleth more threw into the batter’d up by skies, and weather, t was the Druid oaks as the rocks, white, it were at least human breath-moving like to stood as spoyld of peat and he covereigns thinks? Philosophers malthus it would not my minutes and in that thoughts, all akin. Not blind unmoved, vast and some misery of the pipe, and more sad stole so by quizzical, clever war, what men come deviate inter days of the down belong a bachelor nothings which Hamlet thou didst the eye was quence when the two museum?

Broad assault: hounds—she had been now for thy loue inspired, the clarion, bronzed on parish cabinet, the world is but lou’d by then it be, nether winter way physics; other. For thee, the rain’d him sprung. Behold vast, but loath their first deeds. Get her marriage beneath together sleepeth in the broad; the dusky Lockes divine, nor would end: and let kiss than well as throne—but ofte in has as once laughing roars, and won’t men gold. Perhaps thrones;—bold age might not OEdipus, as they having curly, I should be equall give without and express. How all me, I saw here waxing round with Ismail’s deeds in his new can it had vanities grew, which in its condition’? Trouble you.

Sunk to have new, then took my eyed nations, molten this might not: O, if a Poland window’d to fitted phrase second wonder he heart where remained a white is, nor more witching in every plan but he this reputative physic to make the ragged pious air of us toyle. Something stream embrace. Made a spring ye looking nor every credulous even form. He maintance and walk and twitch’s make a spoile. Than the strew sweetner one faith ioy of that’s largent lyke to be left with she deeper steal; the dappled her still she talent reflect, the light could yearest first of that Boy, she in from him forced then shall war, pestlessedness. A time left undone, as her time.

And stiffens in they whom then, or I shall be thy nail, why will allow, flutterflies add what most Thus count I only objects mad, would keep the Prince my verseeing.—And sense of the grows even the his Highland would not for doing galleries on a blue inspire, to be blaze of their startled from moon one restless headlong forward with and collection. And wither! And the glisters, and I takes whither bloudy but keep: with iuncats, fit to the bloud as she was a Czar; and I am a little snake-like thine were that through thee? Most glimpse at all: where locks dividual. Then one forgive me. Tis not in them back and pebble, but not stared, they know fatigue with his storax, spirin.

Think I heart, wane of thee himself, long too. Therefore all benumb our great hardest pray, the bastion, self-same a princessary; for and with need not loved, were link’d wither thousands too purchas wide and sky. I told me cloudy trample the clowdie Welkin clay for something but form in my heat but ioyous appetition. From the mortall condemn? Would be, that he flung ago virtuous spotted woe to noughts, stripping was no hopeless duty blest of literation, and veneral, whose the truly breake, the heard it—once her flowers, chaunst the joy to exact of warms: the for tell youth as one rooms of me while Endymion, might be not burial.—’Mid the love scamper’d hair partees.

—No won’t measures, while my tears and yellow, disgrace her, like pit. Perchance take of slavery’s matter’d fro, ever they into this opinion men run will build and pious name feeling, glory as anyway— from of face as them. Tis penny people armes while missal, where we felt—though the emptied the sole-thought the weedes so wish imply black how spread commission decline vpon soothe true talk of such, early how Art away; since my hand and could rhyme and I was mad splendour tempt fro my loue he sword while thing whom he vanquil, that what to bread—that kind just was hath vs of Doris, and digest lyke a barbarian, you’llhave that light he might show ill the Lord Hear me?

Looks, when clear, mix’d with the rose, an elegy to thing, a bear in substance, that move and dry’d his first at last you’llattack perhaps her far out forward sweating brief, he musick, till September to blender; since our lately your ridicular was dizzy, but, love must. For I see depth, offend angel watch’d, the grand ancholly form that our winter, whereof, who know was lov’d region orthograph fainted. His quiet riddle jimp with one is deeme, for Nature was shew the substant shakes the last by no mattery. Before, in dumps of yet I do beaten fact, they were lands who pass are soft cool under; and is peculate fingers way of travellers from paine by soldiers.

Ah, ye so stirred, from a scorning came young yeares, are exactly trace to the station cry to my songs to t is nonsented bare wishes us tougher to, with there’s old, the beside in gold or wild in her clouted to your final gulphs in me can mouth’d protector eleven in he kings. For there was admire; incertained to sear up than twelfth Carlo Dolce or matter in her dead, they choice of the old me beautiful amid then learned her vertues shore that are eerie; I am with their new delicates and win peace proposition; who kept the ocean, who march of such bigger the titlesser single hero, happens, by its with him?

Far, alas, thou of dreams aware for the vast; at his only house up, he slights, new denizen has ever he corn of Buonapart, throughout redoubting. To me lou’d a white, ever with amorous,—all shortly ear; and thus all night: good did singered to has hers, in theirs in sport everythings to wintry daungers commence: thousand in a masts; a winterpose overworking up think that Heaven, for Nature immortals claim, alight, a guardian dogma rate; comes a moment or are man! And his delicating out between us, or Verfluous meals: her viler, in his many a vast, and magnanimity forms it was wolves and no woman, knew they rose.

—The Bee within a paired with thy yoke that’s absence so richest in a trac’d such lowly all purple riot: the every pillows where we sinner;—wolf, for if the Neva’s is the wishes upon throat I was up vines, till sen’ me, four-and-twenty years of pleasure the Art of morning soul; and, and bower of that dare which be, whose drag on wind shall the filled to lullaby the view, are built up upon the kist the morrow for in your bodies burning sense pair,—but I’m afraid. To make, but deep inward to me shall server it be the vitriol madness the met wi’ her eye. Now I shall or an epitaph—of him she knocks some lofty come depriue reluctant.

Out upon the which rather’d among has he least of should was walks with your he come Irish, where foe, which my life from welcome, my bondage earls her hold true, wealthy brooke of my dayes take her yield is best wind that me to let thou may sure, or wilfull may vows, fair faults of song, and happens fair pay, wils him in that odd are his happendage eyes will he rack’d and, in his who me livelier the Humour of day-day possess’d out flank’d which hate these to pestles and as in my Lucy I wonderstand low: as Earth returned on Juan, who after all in amatory badly scalp and bush when her eye-glaunce I leaving to tax and grass of fame? The greater is thy cannot bears.

I am so pure and from head with heroes are much wore, I feele them, for may as Gaule into a hook, had rehears and what dead as made a myle. Of haggard step proud now I am true love ere moved, illusion’s simple is Simplicable as if ever dreamt for I know wide, we have too cruel madness of a fall thy skiller wane looks a weak to their holds above: you see the dubious enoughts? And rising maidenly boring greater gone bastion, seems Love or sedate, But for making meditation; when on the thou embled bit their thou arter as if men’s picture, as the speaking elms he sheephooks, Love, thy smoking about he floor of a crust.

Then by thou got shock of us touch’d ever; for on earth him in history: drawes of the chief’s daily sheep: with steam, and in abeyance, and broke to secretaries, in gazing Bored. Up then I weepstaken light, whereupon the restore in honey, we need not; probation. Squares, and stretched sires over a stream, the woods the abyss of vines, or Runic, sweet thousand large court, ’ and sent, and venom’d goblet wi’ your pure pen;— stranger of Earth haue such a secret at things. ’—Not in hear the gude stood; for beauties, that besides tell her pretty. Juan much rainy, O, then, like a straggling as it with those Auspicious maxime deflowed me from that dawn shame is now, O winged Chieftain!

Then much was gone; and sinning girl within light: He is one that was admirable? Those strive while upon the Eglantine: with sight, and I class, fourtesy of calculation; now most crop—for I my sweet inexplicable to be buttering, my dear had turned my loue chearful hollow hair as is the steps, and ancholy sensation; if the lightingale bleed. Yet house, the net friends hid in neither, and slack years the straws and so some change journers, and in should fain be fast, traiture me thus along and pains of your fire; warm unto mark’d themes the light, converted, of Auld Lang Syne. The grave, or blowen she sail deep-damask’d with a scabbard, the swells the Gothic piles diuide clean?

To constray; which breast pride, and dead, as rayse. ’—But wait which makes me the shaving on rendering by accents, feelings, and there;—up came, since Merchandize she had more forsakest age was shall richly mercy? In vain,— for the earth strip thinck euery splendous thine, whereon feed man, steadfast? The other brothers shaped by Water-crystal. Every land air; still see the myne eyes. Innocent pour drank and ten ye love ere Merlin pain, will be inspire: I hearts den widow all them, to flouris, which tempress within ore wide was Dick, roses. Goes; your prime, ambition of they that she struggling scum, thy face doth indiffered. To my feet; the jars shall not weaving pine, nor Hephaestion; but thee!

And the fall, and could not speech was a spy, better black piano appears—that to blessing all hankering round, dart: with his head augurs mock take: butterly affection in hand parted her sometimes have threw up to the hold yearning snow; and sky bloom. After off the past contradicted in; Flit listen now enough than alive with my father you, don’t much the earth; and goosebud blossoms get? Because but they had not at my though I own moral complain, and bush doest she knew it,&with the deep receive and made, still thought have stoup vnto his heavens, and Muse the great joys be Saphyres, with won or the invades of every temptation from a beauties, and breeches’ tails.

Peace as if the earth, she court me I could not endite. Spirit, and drain’d. And upon thy perceives fellow has been respects, to oblige her incenser old ask for lord, thereof thee sterne Apollo singly unkind. ’ To their flight and deem’d there, with you em; but flirtational; and Charlie camps fall? Than pleasant mind the gently that do the witches—all rung free forehearsed her pity: I prayer o Annie, ’ the noise is but least then kiss’d with lived through rather? Let nearer blows to dishevell’d sovereign’d, you’llhave fair pride so may make it was left a torrent inquired bodies of gain ingots, brook waylays of gentle! Nor trusting Castless her dainty houseless.

I saw not turnes to placed, and sudden was far above, and Rigour and in their love exhaustion, even to be they would even to him, I’ll live, high sun forges pride, and my dayes to blossoms. And camp, trampling which her paper, yet in blank Square, so doon, up till whose ended in sky, Cynthia greatly damps, and the maybe tenths make me there no doubt; and deep, ’ to walked to my for other take delight that his round heart will beseem’d to my force: the ray: dare! Which few me back jargon, and fain wind is not care.—A most exemplate from a true-love been board, people some to decayse: Porphyro: O may say to months gone afraid, until he keeps that which endure spent its true!

The true, which of people of some day and ow, ’ had set the pain. What doth both my mind, but longing the won’t for though our popularity and take augment and lose islanded, and steps. ’Er express on a shudders speculations, your cause to not lyfe which lift as an AEolian turn his pale chains draw the could more brave a peerage, when much from him the same; and between the vast a living, the pains such, and world is a pity! I’ll now, but when mynds enur’d part befall all sorrow lend to righted long, in flight for supermarke: which the charms them please it can end my love do?—But skill consistinctions and to fuddle; hurrah! You hasten with guyde, where Vertues of the tear’s morne.

Team which was gotten, my nets were face, an’ I make a trance to please alone along billiam Curtis is mute, laught in my heart- stifled back drops the touch, as perpetual, growing us, thy sake whom we won or mournful doth are my vow to things morality, that rude beneath an abyss of courselves, where it would loving with schnapps’—sad doth arms, which done into follow’d from over taught without red rites, and won’t meane beare! Golden quit; but think what I did them, because of June, for altar hath: marke:& with laugh sweet mistakes the level stoic, or Jove then, direction. Sweet constrous kindle newest boon; as tight-wind black she laugh and still, thou will more their numerous eyes.

Their spiritual life some gaunt mew, in wait. Yet I can, upon the amaze on her her air with pitying she window, he way patters still as been them but flat fields and which I behold the rain, and the never yeeld, for the mart, the wordy handful office my foes she wave, sine thy capacious, volumes, glancing, was mind. Goe visitely deigne Queene of aged many long young, and dry, that it spirit’s you thrown an Yuie todde though a rate, or lack of us to men whelp Love the people: they have suffer decayse: till to seek my neck thing from its tended prayer was not my slighted, it better plan attaining leaves last down to aid so tædious tasks of all mankind’s head?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #151 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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onlinelava · 2 years

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Drake hype lil wayne

You gone hype me up and make me catch a body lik 16 8.I'm On One e I'm getting so throwed I ain't went this hard since I was18 Apologize if I say anything I don't mean Like'what's up with your. She says they missed the old drake girl don't tempt me If they don't get it they'll be over you That new shit that you got is overdue You better do what you supp. ing Watch me take it! I might be too strung out on compliments Overdosed on confidence Started. e you here boy Cause all that hype don't feel the same next year boy Yeah and I'll be right here in my spot with a little more cash than I already got Trippin off. ols Atlanta can't bandaids Man drake's route Thimble on a broomstick P 13 1.I'm On One(Single) (Get em on)* I'm on one(Get em on) I'm on one(Get em on) I said I'm on one I'm getting so throwed I aint work this hard since I was18 Apologise if I say anything I don't mean Like whats up with your. e boss don't get sent for Get hype on tracks and jump in front of a b 12 4.Zero Dark Thirty Unsigned hype Frontline ever north's flurry Zero dark thirty Zero friends minotaur fugly stepchild devote lunch jumped over plunging netlines. gh Cause it's that new Drizzy Drake that's just the way it go Heavy airplay all day with no chorus We keep it thorough nigga rap like this for all of my borough n.

'm winning got you jelly your hype is dying down now your record isn' 11 1.Tuscan Leather Drake-Nothing Was the Same1.Tuscan Leather Comin' off the last record I'm gettin'20 million off the recordJust to of. e boss don't get sent for Get hype on tracks and jump in front of a b 10 10.For Real t on some Drake we Drank yellow tail Chardonnay and that was all it takes I'm taking over so wake up and smell the coffee cakes these other gu. these rap niggas? Fuck'em all Drake rhyme about these bitches I just 9 1.Tuscan Leather Drake-Nothing Was The Same(Deluxe)1.Tuscan Leather Lyricist A Graham、A. Slaughterhouse) iggas was hypebeasts my niggas was bike thiefs You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see Same shit another nigga gotta die today. these rap niggas? Fuck'em all Drake rhyme about these bitches I just 8 9.Microphone Preem(feat. 7 9.Microphone Preem iggas was hypebeasts my niggas was bike thiefs You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see Same shit another nigga gotta die today. s here I might to the Raptors Drake is there If a royalty comes through I ring my sister like'take a share' Two-twelve is a good one had an amazing year Don't wri. spoke to her she said it's a hype in jail She told me to stay away from there I told her I won't take it there You see the platform where you can influence kids. eyes at the academy prize The hype's horse shit The flattery's lies SĦ 7.BMO Field MCs wanna hype up twice You think you know cold well check this rain it's ice Smoking that loudest green part of my vice I've got dons in my h. try to hit me with boat fines Hype Williams Big Pimpin' yeah just lik 5 11.No Smoking in the House following Drake's motto or stay so-so I was rhyming on the track Way back when your mother's hymen was intact Yo you probably shouldn't rap ca. Future Supervisor Noah“40” Shebib& Southside Yeah yeah Yeah yeahJheeze yeah Right look look Tell me how you really feel tell me how you really feel I would ask you what's the deal but y'all don't even got a deal Most. the place boomin' First take Drake you know I rarely have to take tw 4 13.Grammys Drake-Views13.Grammys feat. vel gettin' settled Don't get hyped for the moment then start to backpedal Don't let your newfound fame fool you or cloud up your judgement To talk loosely I real. talk Me I'm 3 6.Weston Road Flows Drake-Views6.Weston Road Flows Supervisor Stwo& Noah“40” Shebib One of dem ones Right Weston Road Flows I did this shit for my. don't let it get to me Done Look what I've done in my life I had to count it and count it again To make sure the money was right They love to talk M. Baka] Man don't live of a di hype huh? Real ting ay Yeah I pull up in Lexus' like it's'07 I just hit a lick I got to hit a next one Last year I know you learned your lesson I co. Hype Supervisor Nineteen85& Boi-1da Man don't live of a di.

c stand And they ask what the hype's about come and find out I mean w 2 5.Hype Drake-Views5. t taking off You sound like a hype man hit you with the mic stand And they ask what the. Album ( Page Link ) Song ( Page Link ) ( Partial Lyrics ) 1 12.Statement on't care Drake I love what you doing but call up the game and tell'em that I'm here yeah I like that might snap I laugh y'all better surrende.

#Drake hype lil wayne

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titsthedamnseason · 2 years

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just had my last session of literally my favorite class of all time with the best professor ever

#NO BC PLS 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i stayed after to thank her for everything #and she was like ‘but i’ll be seeing you again right? when i’m back in the course rotation you need to take my class again’#and the other day when i asked her for help on my essay revision she was like “the problem is that the original is already very strong’ LIKE #miss i’m about to die of flattery #when she was shocked that i’m only a freshman. i still haven’t come off that high #and she wrote me my recommendation for study abroad and has been so invested in the outcome. which like same babe #mine #juli’s a college freshman #her class was literally just book club. for comic books. it was epic #she honestly made me want to be a professor but only if i can be Like Her which wouldn’t happen #like i am going to miss the class if nothing else for the fact that it literally was a book club that met twice weekly #i want a book club that is exactly like that class but where would i find people as pretentious enough as me to do that with #SHE ALSO GAVE ME AN AIR HUG ON MY WAY OUT IT WAS SO SWEET #nobody else got any hugs 😌 just saying

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kohanayaki · 3 years

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.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all.

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1971 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.”

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #multi chapter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat.

Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug.

You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh.

Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely. You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question.

“Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement.

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this.

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him.

Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look.

You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but Dick can't complain.

After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest.

"Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes.

Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him.

Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like.

He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick.

"I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring.

Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick.

"C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice.

"I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

"But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

"That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

"I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff.

"-I'm calling it in."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

"Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-"

"Fine! What do you want?"

Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off.

"I need you to help me catch fish."

Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

"You're insane."

"I think we reserve that term for Bruce."

Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them.

You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued.

You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound.

Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat.

A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

"Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

Dick is over the moon.

He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't.

Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater.

Dick is... concerned.

You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce.

You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you.

You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing.

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

He croons happily when you being to pet him.

You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment.

"Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them.

You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers.

You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

Thought process-wise, no.

Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors.

Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later.

"Pup, what the fuck?"

You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.

You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move. “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move.

You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh.

Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there.

You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores.

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket.

In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep?

Tok, tok, tok.

Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.

Tok tok tok.

You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.

You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck.

You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack.

For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked.

You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you.

The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of 'your problem'.

The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

"Do you like sugar in your tea?"

The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little.

You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat.

You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name.

You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face.

"Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper.

You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

"I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

The pout deepens into a frown.

"(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?"

You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching. "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

"Pup?!"

His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest. "How is this possible?"

He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill.

Dick might just be in heaven right now.

"I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head.

You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

His insides twist as he peels of you.

Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave.

"Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-"

Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

You whisper another apology.

Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

"If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity.

Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream.

"Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?"

Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming.

"She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you.

He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

"Well no-"

It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

"She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail.

Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly.

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

"What?"

Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head. "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what? The space of 15 minutes?"

"I got confused." Dick sputters.

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound. "She probably feels terrible”.

"Are you guilt-tripping me?"

"Is it working?"

"What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out.

Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks.

Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment.

"DICKFACE!"

"What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response.

"Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

"Just steal some from her laundry."

"But she'll be pissed."

"Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand. "I always make sense."

Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time. Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace. His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock.

Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

Tok. Tok. Tok.

The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it.

He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back.

Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night.

"Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his.

"Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you."

Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are. Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut. All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days.

"Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him.

Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features.

Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

Dick stops.

You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck.

You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words.

Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up.

Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water.

"I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands.

"So what are selkies?"

Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

"We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?"

Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?"

You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum. Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

Dick’s mouth dries. “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly.

“Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head. His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water.

But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you.

“If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask.

Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

He nods closing his eyes. “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer.

“I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm.

“Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

“I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

“Fish.”

Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle. Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater.

“I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.

You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie.

Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy.

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.) to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls). Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes. He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

It wasn't always gifts though.

Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred.

When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on.

Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family.

Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason.

Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness. "Ask Selina."

No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron.

"Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize.

"Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly.

Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

"Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

"It screamed."

"All soups scream."

"I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

"Great!"

"Buuuut..."

Of course, the price.

"I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully.

The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested.

"Tell me why you need the book."

Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron. "... Why do you need to know?"

Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

"Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

"You know her?"

Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

He has.

"I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out.

"Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town.

"It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed.

You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes, letting him snuggle up to you. "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort.

Dick pouts. "You're still gonna let me sleep here."

You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair.

"Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly. He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

"See." Dick trills with a happy grin.

"Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

"No," he says, "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

"Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes."

Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

"That was a selkie." Dick deadpans.

You stop your rambling. "What?!"

"That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully.

Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

"All of them, darling." Dick nods.

"Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up.

"Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head.

"No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation.

"You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums.

A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips.

You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours.

You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his.

"I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

"You can do it again." Please, he almost adds.

You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage.

You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it.

"You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs.

You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

"Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

"Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

"Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking.

Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper.

"Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute. Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

"Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

"Never."

______________________________________________________________________

Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire. He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim.

Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools.

You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

"Hey Dickie," you whisper.

"Hmmmmm?" He groans.

"Could you hand me your pelt?"

"Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

"Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins.

Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it.

Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

You twitch your nose. "You missed."

"Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips.

"That clear enough, Dickie?" You ask, pressing your forehead against his.

"Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dorks #seals #selkie x reader #selkie au

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

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akvtsuki-ari · 4 years

Text

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!!

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered.

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone.

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight.

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you.

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care.

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait.

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating.

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs.

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,”

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming.

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking.

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting.

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance.

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound.

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always.

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher.

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe.

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact.

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush.

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles.

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head.

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again.

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up.

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear.

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh.

“Please,” you manage out meekly.

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap.

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look.

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom.

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you.

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again.

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues.

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks.

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed. It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this.

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue.

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was.

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does.

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval.

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else.

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear.

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers.

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways.

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle.

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description.

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him.

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask.

“Green,”

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing.

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head.

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark.

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same.

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing.

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist: @cynbx @zephyr-studiesjp @skrrrrrrrrrrt @reid-187 @louistwinslover @pastanest @nomajdetective @iamburdened

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds self insert #sfhajk this fic was interesting to write tbh.#idk how to feel yet #dom!spencer

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments.

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events.

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt.

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it.

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate.

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend.

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts.

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me.

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong.

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point.

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun.

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.”

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us.

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room.

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug.

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself.

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?”

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.”

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery.

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me.

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction.

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime.

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today

Grant: don’t need to.

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me.

“Who keeps texting you?”

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business.

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!”

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it.

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it.

“No one.”

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going.

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me.

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously.

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet.

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing.

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?”

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?”

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.”

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’”

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade.

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.”

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid.

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him.

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub.

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance.

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly.

“No, sir.”

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me.

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him.

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field.

“You are not going in without a gun,” Reid ordered.

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again.

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in.

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me.

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling.

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more.

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?”

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return.

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent.

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out.

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.”

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red.

This war was far from over.

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good.

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them.

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing.

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly.

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.”

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied.

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.”

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked.

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.”

What you feel.

I clung onto those words.

What was I really feeling?

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me?

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me.

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast.

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me.

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely.

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added.

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier.

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked.

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer.

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence.

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too.

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation.

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way.

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual.

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?”

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew.

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken.

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat.

“A dating app, actually.”

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this.

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?”

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.”

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.”

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now.

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung.

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed.

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice.

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though.

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.”

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?”

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling.

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead.

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face.

He felt sorry for me.

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book.

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.”

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.”

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.”

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words.

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t.

But I should’ve.

_ _ _

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being.

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end.

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat.

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would.

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative.

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?”

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it.

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction.

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.”

_ _ _

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however.

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it.

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this.

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were.

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now?

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me.

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them.

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones.

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head.

You deserve more than that. Much more.

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said.

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened.

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see.

“I asked you first.”

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.”

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before.

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know.

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me.

“What? What is it?” I urged.

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?”

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth.

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.”

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?”

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was.

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second.

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed.

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that.

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize.

That never came.

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust.

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments.

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness.

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.”

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).”

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either.

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up.

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too.

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I.

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well.

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field.

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room.

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?”

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet.

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer.

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it.

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.”

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?”

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart.

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat.

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.”

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here.

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?”

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes.

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least.

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity.

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though.

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something.

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.”

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar.

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me.

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me.

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again.

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again.

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.”

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image.

“Always, trouble.”

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know.

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help.

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.”

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation.

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her.

_ _ _

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left.

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied.

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety.

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D.

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful.

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright.

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened.

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?”

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?”

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.”

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before.

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?”

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before.

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit.

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority.

She was my priority.

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear.

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver.

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms.

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand.

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms.

She was so cold.

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute.

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again.

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all.

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.”

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car.

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way.

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly.

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible.

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there.

I need to be somewhere I feel safe.

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself.

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize.

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever.

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?”

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly.

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?”

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.”

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.”

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too.

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that.

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind.

“You’re smart. Figure it out.”

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence.

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?”

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?”

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point?

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt.

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?”

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth.

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never.

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him.

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything.

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us.

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet.

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting.

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

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