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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

792 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 3 months

Note

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

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Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

#serene’s chapters.#httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

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islayhawkin · 9 months

Text

Let me help you

Newt x f!reader

Summery: you're both in love with eachother and newt pays you a visit in the med hut so you can take care of his limp.

Pining teenagers/feelings/slight hurt/comfort/ pure fluff

Trigger warning: mentions of injury and suicide attempt

part 2

The light was getting darker outside the med-hut and you could see the boys return to their sleeping bags as you pulled out a lighter and lit the candle on the table. Every day was like this. You'd take the afternoon shift in the med-hut, you'd have no work to do when it got dark, then you'd do some reading and wait for newt to pick you up. Somehow this routine developed over time. Newt had to do his evening round to check if everything was normal and safe to go to bed. The two of you weren't dating, though the others teased newt constantly about it. And if he would be honest he wished it would be true.

Ever since you came up he couldn't help but adore you. It was about a few weeks after his suicidal attempt. He still had his improvised prop around his leg and crutches to move around. His thoughts had been eating him up from the inside.

And there you were. Of course there was a big ruckus about you being a girl but after a while they all realised how much they needed you in their group. Between the boys there was rarely a gentle touch or loving words. You brought a bit more love, bit more home into their midst. And newt was probably the one most needing of it at that moment. You became a med jack and every boy tried to come up with various reasons to need to be taken care of by you.

Newt obviously didn't need to find a reason. You were the one searching him out. Looking after his leg every other day. Doing what you could to ease his pain even thought he was always terribly embarrassed of needing help. But he loved those moments. It gave him hope. He felt comfort, he felt loved and cared for just for a moment and he chased that feeling ever since. At first he didn't understand what this feeling in his chest was when he saw you laugh, or look at him, crinkle your nose...literally anything you did. He was just a kid after all.

But now he wasn't anymore and he could tell exactly what he was feeling.

Newt walked into the doorway of the med-hut and leaned against the doorframe. Deliberately released the pressure of his bad leg and leaned on his good leg only.

You looked up from your book and gave him a smile. You noticed that his hair was a bit wet and because of this a bit darker than usual. "Hey. You finished?"

"Yeah." He gave you one of his sweet cheeky smiles.

You scanned his form as you noticed his stance against the doorframe. A small frown building on your face. "Is your leg acting up?" You asked softly.

Newt looked down at himself. "Uh I suppose that bloody thing is giving me a hard time right now. But it's alright. No need to worry." He dismissed.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Wha- no I was just gettin' you. I don't need anything..." He broke your gaze suddenly very interested in the wooden floor.

You gave him a look and stood up. "I'm gonna help you wether you want it or not. We can do it here or in bed if we're going anyways."

He sighed as a slight blush crept up his cheeks. "No that's really not nec-"

"It is newt. I know you want it too. You're just too..." you gestured at him. "Selfless to ask for help. Has always been the same with you..." you shook your head slightly. "Just sit down please." You pointed to the nearest bed.

He dramatically sighed and limped over to it to sit down. "How long have you been walking around like this?" You asked softly.

"Week or so." He muttered meakly.

You gave him a incredilous look. "Newt! I told you to come. Bloody shank." You scolded him in a loving way.

He looked down in his lap again. "Sorry. It wasn't that bad..."

"Yeah you could've gone a bit more until you literally collapse like last time. I don't know what you're punishing yourself for but I'm not allowing it again."

"I'm not-" he sighed and looked up. His deep brown eyes scanning your face. "Okay."

The side of your mouth quirked into a smile. "Good."

You lit the little stove with the flame of the candle and set a pot of water on to heat up. Clint and jeff had improvised a heat pad and filled a waterproof bag with hot water a while back. It worked surprisingly well. You always used it for your period days.

Meanwhile newt layed down on the bed. His leg dangled from the side and his arms rested lazily behind his head. That's when you realised his damp hair again. "Why's you're hair wet?" You pointed out.

He grabbed a strand to inspect it. "Showered."

You hummed in acknowledgement.

"I need to show the greenie around tommorow." You could hear that he was tired. His accent was getting thicker.

"Why you? Alby's in charge of that." You raised your brows.

"Yeah but apperently he's gone nuts the last few days and minho told me to do it because I'm a warmer welcome. I need to do every bloody thing around here. These shanks can't do anythin' on their own." He muttered.

"True. They'd be in chaos without you to keep them in line. Honestly a lot of them have anger issues I'm telling you."

Newt snickered.

"You wanna walk around with that greenie all day? I can ask fry. Or minho for that matter. He owes me a favour anyways."

Newt puffed some air out. "S'alright." His head turned. "Wait he owes you? For what?"

You supressed a smirk. "You don't wanna know."

Now newt wasn't able to stop his thoughts from running wild of possibilities what you did for minho.

You filled the heat bag up with hot water from the pot and closed it securely. Then you made your way over to him again and sat down on the bed. You lifted his limp up slightly and as he noticed your intention he moved it over your legs so you had a good acess to it. You softly pushed the trouser leg up above his knee that you could see his naked leg. His leg was skinny and pale as the rest of him. It had hair on it but not long and they were blonde so you couldn't really see it.

Not that you were thinking about such things in this moment.

Newt didn't really think about his body. Other then the hate he felt for that bloody limp he didn't care about such things. They were stuck in the middle of a maze with old clothes that they had to wear everyday. Those things weren't important to anybody in the glade.

But when you were looking at his bare leg he always was nervous. His eyes watched you closely from the position he was laying in. You could feel his eyes on you but it wasn't unpleasent.

You took the heat pad and layed it on his knee, making warmth spread through his leg. It eased the throbbing in his leg as his muscels relaxed. You both stayed like this for a moment. Your hand surrounding his knee with the heating pad. Silence filled the hut but it was comfortable. After a few moments you removed the pad again and layed it to the side. "Feels good right?"

"Yeah..." He whispered.

You placed you hands onto his warm knee now instead. "You tell me if something hurts. No refrain."

He hummed contently and nodded slightly.

As you started to massage the area around his knee gently you watched his face very closely for any discomfort. He let out a sigh with a small unwilling sound making it's way out of his throat. The blood rushed into his cheeks and his eyes snapped to yours to look at your reaction. "Sorry I didn't mean to..."

"Sorry for what? Enjoy to get your pain eased?" You gave him a comforting smile.

"Yeah." He mumbled. Relieved at your reaction he tried to let himself relax again and slow his heartbeat a bit.

You stroked and pressed over his calf and stretched his leg softly. Bending his knee and stretching the fascia. Every move of you made was tender and deliberate. Made with care.

Newt loved the feeling of your hands on his leg. It felt heavenly and he never wanted you to remove your hands from him again. This continued for minutes in silence. Only small breaths that escaped his mouth were heard in the room. When you hit a particular spot he let out a "ow."

"Sorry. In what way did this hurt?" You asked softly.

"Uh in my knee."

"Alright. Sorry."

"Didn't hurt much..." he trailed off as you put your soft hand onto his knee and caressed it with your thumb as if to soothe it. The warmth spread through his leg again. Now because of your hand He blinked and swallowed hastily. You didn't move your hand, just let it rest on him. His heartbeat increased slightly aa he took deep breaths. For some reason there were tears behind his eyes.

"Does it feel better now?" You looked up at him with soft eyes.

"Great." He breathed out. Still a bit out of it.

You removed your hand reluctantly and pulled the leg of his trousers down again. You gave his leg a little pet and stood up from the bed. He rolled himself up to a sitting position again and watched how you extinguished the flame of the stove.

"I need to sleep otherwise the alarm won't be able to wake me." He jawned.

You chuckled. "Now then let's get you snuggled up." You ruffled his hair playfully and he gave a small protest. You picked the lit candle from the table with the other hand. The two of you made your way outside and newt secured the lock on the door of the med-hut.

You strolled side by side over the field to the homestead in the light of the candle and your arms were brushing against one another to seek the others presence.

"You know, your accents gets a lot thicker when you're tired or drunk. Drunk is so bad sometimes I can't even understand you." You noted as you looked up at him. The soft light of the candle flickered over his soft features and enlighting his hair in a golden hue.

A smile appeared on his face though he was a bit embarrassed about your comment as he didn't meet your eye. "Really? I didn't know that. Sorry I guess. You'll have to remind me when I'm drunk so I'll speak more clearly."

"Oh you're just speaking nonsense anyways when you're drunk." You nudged him with your shoulder and he laughed.

"You really don't understand me sometimes?" He asked still perplexed about these news.

"Rarely. But it happens sometimes yes. If you're talking fast. Or as I said when you're tired or drunk."

"Oh that's- didn't know it was that noticeable. Can't really do anything about it. I'm not aware that I do it." He shrugged sheepishly. You could clearly hear his awareness of it now and how he tried to speak more clearly without a accent.

"I wouldn't want you to change it. I like it." You grinned.

He looked down to you stunned. He'd never thought someone would like that about him. And the way you said it so nonchalant perplexed him. "You like it?" His voice was slightly higher than normal.

"Yeah sure. It sounds...nice to listen to." You looked ahead.

His cheeks bore a taint of red again. "I er- thank you. I never thought of it like that." You liked his accent. His voice. You liked to listen to him. Newt felt a tingling sensasion in his belly.

He opened and held the homestead door open for you. You made your way inside and up the steps to your room. You had a own as the only girl and alby and newt insisted on it for your safety. You didn't always use it as you enjoyed sleeping outside with the others too.

Newt and alby had a room together next to you as the leader and second in command. So you stopped in front of your respektive doors. "Night newt. See you tommorow."

"Good night Y/N. Sleep well."

You smiled at eachother before entering your rooms. You had a smile on your face as you tucked yourself into bed and thought of newt doing the same on the other side of the wall. Newt layed down in his bed too with a grin on his face. Alby gave him a knowing look but didn't comment on it. His limp long forgotten and the pain eased for a moment as the warmth spread throught his form. For this evening he felt at home.

#newt x reader #the maze runner #newt tmr #English is not my native language #I am NOT homophobic and will stand against anyone who is #minho tmr #fluff #hurt/comfort #james dashner

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bomertheshark · 11 months

Text

Whimpering

A Brahms Heelshire x top male reader

Short

Today was a pretty good day. You had gotten up early, showered and even eaten. Now you lay on the couch reading a new book you had gotten in the mail, since your new boyfriend hated you trying to go outside the manor.

Who was this boyfriend of yours you may ask? Well it’s none other than the man behind the wall, who, you had been taking care of via a doll until recently. What changed this you weren’t really sure for awhile before it became clear that he had a specific interest in you which led to the moment you were in now.

“Please!” He whimpered. He had been riding your thigh while you were reading the book that was mentioned earlier, you’d been invested in it for a while. You had just gotten to a really good part when your partner had placed himself on your lap trying to get your attention.

Everything was too much but not enough for him, from the friction of your jeans on his corduroy pants to how you weren’t even paying attention to him. He wanted more, and more than that, he wanted your attention. He was hoping that he could get you riled up by grinding on your lap but you eventually just moved him to your thigh so that you could pay attention to your book. He hated that more than anything. He leaned forward to whimper in your ear hoping that it might be enough for you to finally pay attention to him and fuck him, you only sighed at him and shifted your leg.

He moved forward more so that he could hold you now fully whimpering and moaning as you started to bounce your leg out of habit, again it was too much and yet not enough. He was obviously getting quite irritated with you. He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong! He was whining and showing how submissive he was! Why weren’t you just fucking him!?

He started to whimper harder from his frustration from the lack of reaction he was getting. At this point you couldn’t even pay attention to your book because of how whiny he was being, and the fact of how hot he looked.

At this point in time Brahms was leaning back on your leg, holding himself up with his hands on your knee causing his shirt to ride up and showcase his v-line and happy trail. You could see how labored his breaths were as he whined and whimpered. You could also see the ragging hard on he was sporting in his pants as he kept on chasing that high on your thigh.

You finally decided enough was enough and you would help your poor puppy out. The moment you put your book down on the table Brahms was all over you holding you tight “p-please it hurts.. I want you in me so bad.. please fuck me..” he held you even tighter thinking you might let him go when you got up from the couch. “It’s alright sweetheart we’re just going upstairs.” Brahms didn’t seem to wait that long since the moment you said that he pushed you back on the couch, straddling you “No! I want you in me now! Please! We can do it here! I don’t mind!” He said frantically all the while he was desperately grinding himself into you.

You decided that you could deal with the consequences later by taking Advil and a really good shower. You started to take off your clothes and before you could even raise a finger to help Brahms take his off he was already naked back on your lap looking up at you, grinding and whimpering for you to put it in. “I can’t put it in without prep Brahms you and I both know that.” And obviously he knew something you didn’t know as he blushed when you went to start prepping him with you spit to find that it was already occupied by something cold and smooth.

Brahms whined as he dug his face into your shoulder. “Brahms.. did you already prep yourself hoping that I would do this?” Of course he nodded, he was always one to break the rules. After the plug was gone and you tested to see how loose he was you started to lower him onto your length, going slow so that he could adjust to it.

Starting at a slow pace was already a lot for Brahms since he was already so overstimulated, but for him it was perfect and he could want nothing less than to be fucked raw by you. Once he started to shift his hips back to meet yours you knew that you could pick up the pace starting to get a much harsher pace with deeper thrust leaving Brahms to see stars.

It was beautiful to take in, his moans and whimpers from you hitting every perfect spot in him, to the way he clenched around your cock letting you feel the plush walls that surrounded you, only making you thrust deeper to reach the utmost pleasure and euphoria. “O-oh god.. you feel so good inside me, please fuck me harder” he said and you complied fulfilling every one of his fantasies in being ravaged and taken apart by you.

After the countless rounds that he begged for each time you filled him up, you were in the bathtub after cleaning him up thinking back to your book excited to continue where you left off in the story.

Sorry it took me longer than I though for it to come out! I hope you guys like this 🤭

#top male reader #dom male reader #bomertheshark #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x male reader

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httpskuzuu · 1 year

Text

Please, Fedya

idk why, but I'm very embarrassed to publish this

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes.

tw: kidnapping, yandere, mention of: broken bones, abuse, isolation, bad mental health, punishment and escape attempt (nothing explicit really), stockholm syndrome, fyodor is a general tw

Your life with Fyodor had been good, as good as a life with a kidnapper could be, but you would never admit that out loud, it would be too hard a blow to your dignity.

At first everything was hell, Fyodor was the definition of cruel, it took you months to be able to get out of the 4 walls where he locked you up, in complete darkness. It screwed up your eyesight, your sleep and your overall health, physical and mental. He at least fixed those problems, paid for your eye surgery, gave you vitamin D supplements, helped you by fixing your sleep schedule, etc.

It wasn't so bad, except that not all the issues could be fixed, your mental health was horrible, it still is, you doubted he could fix that.

Before you had all that help Fyodor gave you, you had to change your behavior, you were always a fighter and with Fyodor it would be no exception. The turning point of your behavior was the night you tried to escape. He caught you, as punishment he broke both your legs and your fingers, he also left you in complete isolation, you don't know for how long. Since that punishment, you never disobeyed Fyodor again, not intentionally at least.

As time went by, and when he saw that your meek behavior was not a lie, he began to give you more liberties. One of the most important for you was the freedom to go outside, obviously accompanied by Fyodor.

Also, with that freedom to go out, you realized that Fyodor liked to treat you like a doll. Every time he allowed you to go out he was the one who dressed you, you had no voice or vote in that.

On those outings, you realized that the place you were in was Russia, you didn't know specifically which part. Before arriving in Russia, you had never seen snow in person, so it was beautiful the first time.

Today was one of those days that Fyodor allowed you to go out.

He dressed you in warm clothes and took you to a coffee shop. It was nicer than you thought it would be, not only because you went outside, but because your talks with Fyodor were pleasant.

By the time you left the coffee shop, it was getting dark, but you convinced Fyodor to go to a local bookstore and buy some books. It wasn't for you to read it (you didn't understand Russian and Fyodor had never tried to teach you so you couldn't communicate with others), it was for Fyodor to read it to you, it was an activity that, surprisingly, you enjoyed very much. You left the bookstore with a book of poems whose cover caught your attention.

Walking on your way home you heard high-pitched meowing coming from an alley, you stopped your steps and, consequently, to Fyodor, who was holding your hand.

"What is it, милый?"

"I heard meowing." Your gaze did not move from the alley.

You let go of Fyodor's hand and headed down the alley, Fyodor followed you closely until you reached a cardboard box lying on the ground.

You bent down and opened the box to find an orange furred cat, it was about the size of your hand and very thin. You wondered what kind of horrible person had abandoned such a cat.

You petted it and the cat reacted affectionately, rubbing its head against your hand. You laughed at the action and turned your head to see Fyodor standing behind you, still standing. "Please, Fedya, let's keep him."

Fyodor wasn't a big fan of cats, or animals in general, it wasn't that he hated them, but he preferred not to have pets. But there you were, begging him for an abandoned cat, and, well, you were being on excellent behavior, so he needed to give you a reward, right?

"Okay, but you'll be the one to take care of it." You nodded quickly as you grabbed the cat, pulled him against your chest, and covered him up as best you could with your coat.

The two of you walked out of the alley, you were petting the cat's little head as you smiled. Fyodor just looked at you, appreciating how cute you looked when you were happy. He thought that, perhaps, he could do more things to see that smile of yours more often.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #yandere fyodor #yandere #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 years

Text

— the perfect girl

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: none

summary: wednesday hated warming up to anyone, but she would lie if she said the demon girl with soft grins and calloused hands wasn't slowly occupying a special corner in her heart

word count: 3.3k

read pt. 1 here

“You know, I’m still kinda pissed about the dance.”

Wednesday turned in her seat to look at the demon who was busy glaring a hole through the ceiling, hands under her head as she laid on the bed.

“Why would you be?”

“You know why,” (Y/n) worried her lip between her teeth, brows furrowed at the thought that she herself had brought up and didn’t seem to enjoy in the slightest, “It should’ve been me.”

The ravenette stared at the other girl, unblinking, before turning back to her typewriter, “You should’ve asked me yourself, then.”

“It’s never that easy with you. You’re so hard to read sometimes,” the oni girl turned on her side, watching Wednesday type with concentration, “Would’ve you said yes?”

The typing stopped, and Wednesday was silent for a moment, before she continued.

“Yes, I would’ve.”

(Y/n) fist pumped the air with a whisper-yell of a ‘yes!’ before turning to lay on her back again, grinning like a pleased cat. Wednesday sighed, shaking her head, “You’re so childish. The reason I went with Tyler was completely out of my control.”

“Fuck Tyler,” (Y/n) barked with no hesitation, “Well, at least we still got the prom,” she thought for a bit and then asked, “Will you go to prom with me?”

“If you’re not dead or expelled by that time, then yes, I will, (Y/n).” Wednesday replied distractedly, getting a bit annoyed with the conversation, “Now, please, let me focus.”

The demon girl sighed dreamily, closing her eyes, “I’m going to prom with Wednesday Addams.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist a small smile that made its way to her face.

"I want to cuddle with you."

Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments, and (Y/n) looked up from the book she was reading, brows furrowed in complete disbelief as she stared at Wednesday, who was sitting at her desk like the girl had grown a second head on her shoulders.

"... What?"

"Do you have a hearing problem? I said," the ravenette closed her eyes with a deep inhale, and then looked at (Y/n) again, now obviously annoyed, "I. Want. To cuddle with you."

The demon closed her book and put it on the nightstand, her attention now fully on the other girl, still not believing the statement, “You want to cuddle?” she chuckled, “Is the world ending tomorrow?”

"Choke." Wednesday deadpanned before turning back to the laptop she was scrolling through.

“No, wait,” (Y/n) shot up from the bed to scooch closer to the chair the now frowning girl was resting on, “I’m sorry, snookums. That was insensitive of me,” the demon gave Wednesday the biggest puppy eyes she could manage, and paired with the tusks sticking out of her mouth, she did resemble one, though too big and a bit too menacing to be a puppy, “I would love nothing more than to cuddle with you. Please?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes with a sigh, as if she wasn’t the one asking in the first place, before giving in with fake reluctance, but (Y/n) had long since learned to see right through that bluff. The gloomy girl rose up from the chair, and the demon gently grabbed her hand, slowly, to give Wednesday a chance to pull away if she so desired, and moved the ravenette to stand between her legs, “Do you want me to hold you, or...?”

Without saying a word, Wednesday pushed the oni on the bed before joining her, tangling their legs together and resting her head on the demon’s chest. Wednesday’s body was clad in a hoodie that almost swallowed her whole and that was, undoubtedly, (Y/n)’s, judging by the oversized way it fit on her shoulders. It was the demon’s favorite, too – well, used to be, now that it seemed to belong to the smaller girl who refused to give it back, threatening to chop off the arms of anyone who touched it.

It wasn’t like (Y/n) minded, anyways.

The ravenette's arms wound themselves around the demon's middle, squeezing lightly, and (Y/n) could feel her heart swell.

“Aww, ‘Day,” she cooed lovingly, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, palms resting on her waist, “You’re like a grumpy little black cat."

“Don’t speak.” The shorter girl grumbled against the oni’s sweatshirt.

“Again?” Wednesday asked, opening her dorm door in front of the demon girl, half – naked and covered in blood from head to toe.

(Y/n) stepped inside, bare feet leaving red prints on the floor, “I ate a deer!” She grinned proudly, eyes still gleaming with her hunting glee, and turned to the other side of the room to wave at the second inhabitant of the dorm, “Hey, Enid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” the blonde mumbled, her hand over her mouth as she buried her face in her pillow.

“You’re killing her, (Y/n),” Wednesday sighed, rummaging through her wardrobe to find some clean clothes, “And you reek of blood. As much as I like that, you need to shower.”

“I don’t wanna.” The demon whined tiredly, stepping closer to Wednesday to drape herself over the girl who moved away, quickly avoiding the other’s bloodied claws and limbs.

“No touching until you’re clean. Come on.”

Despite her reproachful tone, she grabbed the sulking oni by the hand, holding a clean towel and a black oversized hoodie in the other, and led (Y/n) out of the room and to the bathrooms of Ophelia Hall.

The demon girl had made it a habit to come to the ravenette after Blood Moons in the early hours of morning. While she did act cool and collected, she loathed being alone during those nights. She was glad Wednesday didn’t kick her out the first time she had showed up at the girl’s doorstep, bloodied and tired. (Y/n) didn’t like being vulnerable in front of other people, but with Wednesday it was different. She didn't make her feel weak.

When they entered the showers, Wednesday turned on the lights, dropped the clothes on the sink, and looked up at the other girl, her gaze stern.

“Make sure you get all of the dirt off your hair. I hope you won’t need any help with that, at least.”

(Y/n) smirked, leaning her elbow against the door frame, her haori sliding off her shoulder seductively.

“Hmm, I don’t know… There are some places I probably won’t be able to reach myself…”

Wednesday threw the towel at the taller girl's face and, with a quick jab at the oni’s arm, left the room, her cheeks gaining a barely noticeable color.

When Wednesday raised her hand to knock at (Y/n)’s door, her fist froze mid - air. A huge claw mark was adorning the wood, the scratch seemingly almost powerful enough to tear the door off its hinges, and the ravenette realised it was unlocked.

Grabbing the handle to slowly let herself in, the girl stepped inside quietly, dread pooling at her stomach as a myriad of different anxious thoughts ran through her mind.

“…(Y/n)?”

It was pure chaos inside. It was dark, but the light of the lamps on the street coming from the window was enough to let Wednesday see the mess that (Y/n)’s dorm room was – there were claw marks everywhere, on the walls, on the table, and her chair laid on the floor, broken into pieces. Papers and books were scattered around along with some ceramic shards of what most likely used to be a cup. In the middle of the room, plunged between two floorboards, was the oni's katana. Its scabbard was thrown off to the side, but, thankfully, the blade was unharmed.

The (h/c) – haired girl was sitting at the foot of her bed, face buried in her knees drawn to her chest. She didn’t move an inch when Wednesday called her name, only growling quietly in response.

“Leave.”

Carefully maneuvering around the wooden and glass fragments, Wednesday made her way to the miserable form of the demon, and the oni hissed at her again, raising her head a bit to glare at the unwanted guest, slitted eyes glowing in the dark frighteningly, “I said fucking leave.”

“Don’t you snap at me,” Wednesday scolded softly, unfazed by her attitude, and crouched next to (Y/n), “What happened?”

The girl didn’t answer. She hugged her legs closer to her chest instead, clawed hands gripping her arms painfully.

The ravenette sat down and moved closer, leaning on her palms, and her hand touched something smooth and solid. Feeling around the floor in the darkness, she grabbed the item and raised it to her eyes – it was (Y/n)’s dragon pendant, lace torn in half.

Wednesday carefully reached for the nightstand to leave the golden charm there before moving even closer to the demon, making her flinch like a scared animal when their legs touched. She didn’t speak again. She leaned her head on the oni’s shoulder, cold fingers gently grazing her hand that was still gripping the sleeve of her shirt, and the ravenette’s heart squeezed at the shaky sigh the taller girl let out at the sensation.

Wednesday was seldom ever patient. But she’d stay like this for days, if needed. Only for (Y/n).

Wednesday stared at the clock with exasperation, counting the seconds. The class had ended a few minutes ago, and (Y/n) was supposed to pick her up for lunch. Where was she?

The ravenette prayed to all the gods almighty that the demon would hurry and show up any second, because the predicament she currently found herself in was going to make her snap a neck.

Xavier's neck, to be precise.

As if sitting next to him the whole period wasn't enough, the brunet decided to bother her during the break. He was going on about something Wednesday wasn't even listening to at this point, and the ravenette wished looks could kill so that the young man would drop dead at her feet and quit his pathetic attempts at socializing with her.

"Anyway, are you going somewhere this break? Want to grab lunch together, maybe?" Xavier asked with a grin.

"I'm already going with someone, actually." The ravenette informed without even trying to be subtle with her annoyance.

"Oh, you're on demand, aren't you? Will you ever fit me into that busy schedule of yours? Who are you going with?"

"That's really none of your business, Xavier." She could almost feel a vein throb at her forehead angrily, and Wednesday swore that a second longer and she wouldn't be responsible for-

"Excuse me," Wednesday heard a familiar voice by her side suddenly, and felt a warm hand land on her waist, "Hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

The ravenette looked up to see (Y/n), the demon’s gaze already fixed on her adoringly, mouth stretched in a toothy grin.

"Sorry I took so long, little raven. Weems and I had a talk," she looked at Xavier, her smile instantly becoming tight-lipped, "I'm not too late, am I?"

"You did interrupt something here, (Y/n). We were just having a normal conversation. Not sure if you've ever heard of those in whatever hellish cave you came from." The artist grumbled, obviously not happy to see the demon girl.

The hold the oni had on Wednesday's side tightened and she grit her teeth, lip rising to bare her tusks intimidatingly, "Better watch your mouth before I rip your jaw off."

The young man made a face of disgust at the threat, furrowing his eyebrows, “You should keep that thing on a leash, Addams.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried. She tears them," Wednesday said, stepping into Xavier's personal space with a glare, "Call (Y/n) a thing one more time, and I might just let her have your remains when I'm done with you."

The ravenette grabbed the taller girl by the hand to turn around and lead her away and out of the classroom without another word, and the demon had hearts in her eyes as she stared at the back of Wednesday’s head, smiling like a lovesick fool.

I’m gonna marry her.

It was late in the morning as (Y/n) stood in the quad among her fellow students, worrying her lip between her blunt tusks in a nervous habit. It was the day she had been dreading for the past week –Parents’ Weekend at the Nevermore Academy.

The demon’s appearance was at its best: she had her hair done perfectly, suit jacket and pants freshly ironed, and even her shirt was buttoned up fully, which itself was an unlikely fashion for the oni girl. She had brushed her teeth extra hard and she smelled of good expensive cologne she insisted on drenching herself in before heading out.

Why was the oni feeling so on edge? It wasn’t a test she had to pass in order to keep dating her grumpy dark – haired girlfriend, as she knew Wednesday couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought of their relationship, nevertheless, the urge to impress her parents was kind of there anyway.

A bead of sweat rolled down (Y/n)’s forehead as she raised her hand to fumble with her tie that now seemed to be choking her, fixing her collar for the nth time to make herself look as pristine as possible.

“Stop fidgeting, (Y/n). You look good.”

Wednesday was standing next to the demon girl, completely unbothered, gaze emotionless as she watched (Y/n) writhe in her nervousness.

“I can’t,” the oni grunted in reply, “This damn thing is killing me.”

Wednesday sighed and got on her tip - toes, smacking (Y/n)’s hands away to fix the tie properly, slender fingers sliding under the cloth to tighten it slightly. When she was done, she moved away to take a look, and nodded to herself.

“There. Now quit overthinking. It’ll be fine.” The ravenette pecked the taller girl’s cheek gently to ease her nerves, and went to stand next to her again, “They’ll have to live with my choice, whether they want it or not.”

“Yeah, but… there’s something in having your parents like me on their own terms, don’t you think?”

More and more people were starting to gather in the yard, occupying the seats in front of the microphone where the principal was supposed to address the event. (Y/n) looked into the crowd, her slitted eyes gliding over the faces of the parents before she sighed, “Father’s still not here,” she mumbled, “I hope he doesn’t miss Weems’s speech again. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose every time.”

“Honestly, I can relate.” Wednesday deadpanned, and (Y/n) smiled weakly.

The girls watched the tall blonde woman walk up to stand in front of the crowd, but the oni couldn’t focus on the words she was speaking. Anxiety was clawing at her stomach with every passing second, and her bottom lip started to bleed from the intense nagging of her canines.

“So let’s focus on the positive, and make this Parents’ Weekend our very best yet.” Principal Weems finished with a smile, and the crowd burst into happy applause. Wednesday’s eyes flicked to the side, and she grabbed (Y/n) under her arm, “Come on, the sooner we finish this, the better.”

The demon nodded quickly, taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the worst. God, this was more nerve – wrecking than any exam in the academy.

“Look at this. Some things never change.”

A tall woman in a tight black dress walked into the quad, her gait like that of an elegant ghost as she looked around the yard with a hint of melancholic nostalgia in her eyes. Her hair was dark and long, and it contrasted with her pale complexion in an eerily - beautiful way. She was holding onto a shorter man dressed in a dark striped suit, and his hair and mustache were styled with diligence, and paired with his manners he seemed like a true gentleman.

When the family noticed their child walking over, they smiled, and her father stepped closer with a pleasant grin.

“There she is,” he spoke, adoration and a thick accent lacing his voice, “Oh, how we missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer!”

Wednesday let go of (Y/n)’s arm to step into her father’s embrace, stiff as a board. Then the man's gaze flicked to the demon, "Have you brought a friend, dear?"

The short girl hesitated for a moment, as if embarrassed, and then spoke up, “This is (Y/n). She is my… paramour.” There was a small dust of color on her pale cheeks.

The man seemed taken aback for a moment, before he smiled again, obviously pleased with the news.

“Oh, how wonderful! I’m so glad to know someone has slithered their way into my little deathtrap’s dark heart,” he held his hand out, “My name is Gomez Addams.”

Taking the man’s palm into hers, (Y/n) shook it and smiled back at him politely, “I’m (Y/n) (L/n). It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Addams.”

The older Addams stepped away and back to his wife, and the woman looked the oni up and down before smirking, a small mischievous spark in her half – lidded eyes, “We’ve been dying to meet you, (Y/n). My dear daughter has painted quite a picture. I’m Morticia. I suppose I have you to thank for Wednesday’s slightly better than grim mood she’s been in for the past few weeks. It’s a worthy achievement, I’d say.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. It’s a pleasure.”

“So,” the woman turned to Wednesday, “Tell us everything.”

“Since you’ve abandoned me, I’ve been hunted, haunted, and the target of an attempted murder. And then she got stuck with me.” Wednesday deadpanned, and Gomez sighed dreamily, grabbing at his heart dramatically.

“Oh, Nevermore, I love you so!”

(Y/n) smiled warmly at the way a small ghost of an upturn touched Wednesday’s lips when she spoke to her father. It seemed that, behind the mask of disdain she held when she spoke of her parents, she still loved them dearly.

"My little storm cloud has mentioned you're good with a blade. Do you fence, (Y/n)?"

The demon girl was sitting next to Gomez at the table, leaving Wednesday to have her mother – daughter talk as she conversed with the short man.

"Uh, not exactly. I'm a swordswoman by my father's legacy." (Y/n) replied.

"Oh, so you must be a worthy opponent, hm? I hope we do get a chance to duel this weekend. To the death, of course." Gomez laughed, baring his gapped teeth in a friendly smile.

"I'd love to, Mr. Addams,” the oni smiled back, “Wednesday has been a fencing champion here at Nevermore since the day she arrived,” (Y/n) said proudly, tactfully choosing not to mention the Bianca incident, “She stings so fast and sharp, like a deadly black widow. You’re a wonderful teacher, Mr. Addams.”

“You flatter me, (Y/n),” the older Addams brushed the compliment off with a teasing smile, “But thank you. I’d say it’s mostly mia piccolo corvo’s merit. Her talent is unremarkable.”

Morticia and Wednesday watched the pair from where they were striding through the yard, and the woman smiled at the scene, “I never would have guessed you had a thing for demonic creatures, my lovely storm cloud. You inherited my good taste, I suppose.”

“I’m not as shallow as to choose the people I keep close based on their appearance, mother,” Wednesday said, watching her father hit (Y/n)’s back as he laughed at something she had said, “(Y/n) is much more than what she looks like.”

Morticia hummed, “She makes you happy. That’s what’s important to me.”

The smaller ravenette raised her eyebrows and looked up at her mother incredulously, not expecting such a response.

“But I have to say, her looks are certainly fit for a perfect Addams family member.”

Wednesday’s cheeks reddened at the statement, and she looked away, gaze landing back at the oni, a small smile on her lips, “Don’t be delusional.”

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday the series #wednesday addams x y/n #imagine #female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x female reader

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sylix-royalty · 5 months

Text

I’m getting back into writing, so have a Hotch/Reid snippet!

can… can i have a hug? please?

And a little bit of

oh, sweetheart- come here.

With a dash of

how long has it been since someone hugged you?

Type: Angsty Fluff

Warnings: Kinda just sad, brief mention of drugs

Spencer was very obviously the most touch starved of the group. It wasn’t to no fault of his, not really. It was clear he didn’t prefer physical contact most of the time, but Aaron wasn’t stupid. Aaron knew that despite Spencer’s sensory issues and mild germaphobic tendencies, he really just wanted to be hugged sometimes.

It was more obvious after some cases, when his arms wrapped around himself as he sat alone on the back of the plane, curled up as staring out of the window rather than reading whatever book he’d already read 7 or 8 times that week. It was only Wednesday after all.

It was less obvious after others, the itch of his hands as he read, how they’d twitch before he’d read a page. Aaron noticed, but he wasn’t sure that the others did, too careful of Spencer sensory. And Spencer clearly didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire of his own mind by his need of physical contact. But, Aaron wasn’t stupid. He was a profiler for a reason. But he wasn’t just going to jump down Spencer’s throat like that, putting him on the spot would be unhelpful and most likely backfire.

So, Aaron watched more intentionally. Trying to give an obvious sign to Spencer that he was here for him, should Spencer need him. It took a while, longer than Aaron liked to admit, but finally Spencer came into his office after hours.

The case had been a bad one. Having to deal with not only children, but Spencer was taken as a hostage and belittled so bad that Aaron was on the verge of shooting the man just to make him shut the hell up for good. Of course he couldn’t, that would risk his job, and more importantly Spencer’s life, but the thought definitely crossed his mind.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Spencer asked softly, and Aaron nodded slowly.

“Stay as long as you need,” he said gently, trying not to use that boss tone he knew he had. Spencer nodded, noting the attempt, and sat on the couch, curled up with his arms around himself once again, staring at the wall.

Aaron worked in silence, not going to push or pry answers out of the younger. He knew Spencer was struggling, and he had a terrible reputation when it came to asking for help. But Aaron hoped he was slowly working through that.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Spencer whispered, finally. “You don’t… you don’t see me as a… drugged up, ratty—“

“No, Spencer,” Aaron cut him off, not allowing Spencer to repeat the words of the UnSub. “I don’t see you like that. No one does.”

“I do,” Spencer whispered, “I feel like that, sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if everything’s worth it.”

“It’s all worth it,” Aaron whispered.

“You would say that,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron set his pen down.

“Meaning?” Aaron asked without trying to sound offended or offput.

“Meaning you see me,” Spencer explained. “You see the man I’m trying to be. You… you understand… who I am in a way that most other’s can’t.”

“I’m perceptive,” Aaron reasoned.

“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “But you also care.”

“This team cares about you,” Aaron reasoned.

“They do,” Spencer nodded. “But they care so much about one thing, something you’ve been… overlooking lately.”

Aaron blinked.

“You’ve been staring at me, after cases. Reading me. I see your eyes. I feel them.”

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, that wasn’t my intention,” Aaron promised.

“No, I know,” Spencer promised. “I just…” he inhaled slowly, his arms falling from where they were wrapped around him. “Can I have… have a hug? Please?”

Aaron exhaled slowly from where he sat, finally hearing the words come from Spencer’s mouth almost made him jump out of his chair. He still moved a bit too quick, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind or care as he quickly got off the couch, hearing Aaron’s gentle “oh sweetheart, come here,” and met Aaron halfway, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron’s arms around his waist.

Spencer almost broke right there. But Aaron held him up strong, as per usual. He kept his hold for as long as Spencer needed, or wanted, which was longer than he originally calculated.

“When was the last time someone hugged you?” Aaron whispered into his ear.

“Too long,” Spencer whispered, voice broken and scraggly as he pushed his nose into Aaron’s shoulder.

“Don’t let it ever be that long again,” Aaron whispered.

“I’m here, Spence. I’m right here.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotchreid #spencer reid #heid #Sylix’s Little Snippets

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aquasarsstuff · 3 months

Text

Spending the night with Lilia Vanrouge

Tags: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader, fluff, long-haired Lilia, yokai!Lilia, historical au, reader gets

A/N: I made this while waiting for the rain to stop. Like please stop now, I'm sooo hungry. Kinda regret not going out earlier. Welp- it's already noon, so I used some of my stacked noodles. Also, I was listening to Renegade over and over again while writing this lol, it help with my writer's block especially the part where I had to describe Lilia lol. Yes, there's some secret meaning in some parts here cuz why not

Your school has been demanding all your attention to be poured in your studies. Hence, you weren't able to visit you lover that was living deep in the mountains. You hunch over your desk after reading a ton of books. It was already midnight, and you were sure that if Lilia was here, he would have already lightly scolded you for staying up late. You stop working on your desk, and neatly arrange your school materials. Grabbing the lamp you have; you place it not too far from your futon. After all that work, you slip inside your futon and fell asleep.

The next day, while you were in school and about to leave, you saw a glimpse of Silver and Sebek who was also studying there. As usual, the two were having a one-sided banter. You walk towards them but was blocked by students who were also about to leave. You sighed defeatedly when you don't see them anywhere after trying to force yourself out of the crowd. You wanted to ask them about Lilia. You made up your mind; You were going to visit him tomorrow. It was weekend anyway, and the school schedule only lasts up until the weekdays. You were also studying for hours this past few weeks, and you were not like Riddle who enjoys doing it all day. You were going to spend the day tomorrow with Lilia, and also take a break from your studies. You were hitting two birds with one stone.

Before you head out mountains, you patted the head of the yokai you were living with. Grim merely rolled away from you but still not waking up. You softly laugh before shaking your adorable friend.

"Grim, wake up. If you do, I'll buy you a can of tuna this morning when I pass by the market." And as you expected, all it takes to bring Grim out of his bed was bribing him a can of tuna. The stock of food in the house was also running out, and you just can't bear the thought of leaving him alone in the house and then having to handle the mess he will make in the kitchen when you come back.

When you went outside, you carried Grim like he was some pet cat. Your left hand was occupied by a bamboo basket. You bought some berries and nuts, along with cans of tuna as you promise Grim earlier. Since you haven't had breakfast yet, you thought why not come by Epel's place. You walk away from the busy marketplace and entered a bakery. Immediately the scent of apples filled your nostrils. Delicious deserts made with apples were decorating the place. Epel was in the counter talking with Ace and Deuce in a seat near him. The sound of chimes hitting each other attached on the door, alerted the three people inside.

"Y/N!" Ace called you loudly. You took the vacant seat in front of them. "Did you come here for breakfast too?" Deuce asks you while taking a bite of his omelet. You nod.

"Good morning, Y/N. What would you like?" You gave Epel your order alongside with Grim. As what happens every day, the Adeuce duo somehow never fail to have a squabble.

"I'm not going!" Deuce protested against Ace.

"It's just some rumors. Don't tell me our juice is scared to come to the woods at night, because of it," Ace plasters his signature smirk at Deuce, while the blue head just glares at him. This piqued my interest.

"Rumors?"

"You don't know?" Deuce looks at you.

"Obviously. Why would they be asking?" Ace pipes in much to Deuce frustrations. Epel sighed at the duo and took over the conversation.

"You see Y/N, recently there's been whispers of a creature lingering in the woods who extinguishes any ignited light. All they see is an unseen silhouette, and then darkness." You turn your head slightly at his explanation.

"Myahh?!" If anything, you were more scared of Grim's sudden outburst...

Ace groans when he heard that. "It's pretty windy up there. It could just be the wind. That shadow, whatever it was, was probably just for dramatic effect."

"But, Y/N you're going to the mountain, right?" You almost laugh at Grim worried expression.

"You should be careful, Y/N." You nod at Deuce.

"Don't worry guys, I won't stay that late. I'll be back before sunset."

______

With a bamboo basket filled with berries and nuts, you trudge through the forest's thick foliage. You strayed the trail after reaching a place filled with vines. After a few minutes, you finally saw the cottage you were looking for, but the man you want to see was not there. As you were just about to call out and walk towards it, you notice thick strands of hair, much longer than yours taking purchase upon your shoulder.

"What do we have here?" You were suddenly aware by a presence as soft as melody. Before you could turn around, a finger reaches out from behind to catch your chin and spun you around. You were met face to face with Lilia. His face was uncomfortably close it made your heart ran erratic. His ruby red eyes that were looking through mine felt like it was holding the cosmos inside them.

When he started to inch his face closer to yours, you felt inclined to close your eyes. Suddenly, his finger disappears at your chin. A laughter that sounds like a bubbling brook then follows. "Someone has a mind that dances with the clouds."

You suddenly had the urged to bury yourself six feet because of this suave Nobusuma. You were just about to compose yourself when he drops himself to the ground and reach for your hand that wasn't occupied by the basket and kissed it. He looks at you teasingly. His eyes held the allure of a siren's call, like it was going to enchant and ensnares you with an irresistible allure.

While you were distracted, Lilia grabs the basket out of your hand and took a piece of its content. He greedily munches on the berry, its residue leaving a light tint of red on his lips. "I accept your offering after abandoning me for a long time, my enchanted rose."

"Stop making me the bad guy here Lilia," you sighed, finally out of your flustered state. "Where's Silver anyway?" he playfully plastered a frown on his lips, making him look like a puppy that was just kicked.

"I can't believe this; I just got betrayed by the closest to me. Poor me."

Safe to say, you spend the rest of the day trying to comfort his crocodile tears.

-----

It was already the golden hour, but you still weren't back in your place. You just couldn't bear to move and wake the sleeping Nobusuma in your lap. You gently touch the silk fabric of his black kimono. You traced the hand-painted crane design with the tips of your fingers, until you too fell asleep. When you woke up, a warmth and an aroma of a Chrysanthemum envelops you. You suddenly scramble up, escaping from Lilia's embrace.

"Oh no! It's already dark! I have to get back to Grim."

"Venturing the mountains at dark is filled with peril. It would be wise to stay here," he stopped me when I was just about to leave.

"But..."

Suddenly, his face morphs into a grin. "Don't worry, I won't do anything with you."

"I wasn't thinking about that!"

"Not yet atleast," his eyes glints with mischief.

-----

Bonus:

Lilia: If that doesn't convince you, I heard from human travelers-

Y/N: I know it was you, Lilia.

Lilia: *smiles innocently*

-----

Not sure about this, but let me add it.

Black kimono made of silk: represents a wealthy or high status

Crane design: Revered for their supposed thousand-year lifespan

Enchanted Rose: I dunno why I pick rose, but since he is a yokai and a fae in cannon I added enchanted. And reader's pretty enchanted with Lilia in this fic (I tried-)

Chrysanthemum: Often use as a symbol for immortality

Mind that dances with the clouds: a person who is a dreamer, or has thoughts that is beyond ordinary

okay- im done. You guys interpret the rest

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fic #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia x reader #twst lilia #diasomnia #twst imagines #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x you #lilia vanrouge x you

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a-boca-do-inferno · 1 year

Text

carpe diem (erik lehnsherr x human!reader)

summary: There is just no escaping Erik Lehnsherr, is there?

warnings: angst, fluff

words: 1.0k

She had no idea what she was doing here, with a fist up ready to knock on his—alleged—door. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but he was still the only one who she could always count on, despite their differences and inevitable fallout. It seemed pathetic, masochist even, how every trouble she encountered herself into eventually forced her to come running for his aid.

It had been months since the last time she saw Erik Lehnsherr, especially after he secluded himself in some hole, pretending to be retired. (y/n) knew him better than that, of course, and she obviously didn’t believe that crap for a second. At the first sign of danger to his mutants, he would go back to being Magneto without a second thought. And that was his biggest blessing, as much as it was a curse. She often told him that.

Maybe it was the main reason why they didn’t work out. He needed someone able to put up with his cause, to be passionate about it like he was. But for better or for worse, she couldn’t do that. At the end of the day, she was as human as they come, and Erik’s rage for her species stood out above any feeling he might’ve held for her many a time. They just weren’t right for each other, and she’d accepted it—that is, until she saw his face again, glancing at her in astonishment even through his usual stern demeanour.

“(y/n)”, Erik states, with no particular intonation.

“Hi, Erik”, she tries to smile, but fails, nonetheless. Suddenly all the hurt and all the anger made way to her chest again, and her lips just couldn’t take the faking. Not that time. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

“Are you alright? What happened?”, he sounds concerned, and he should be, since the world was now too dangerous even for humans.

She cleared her throat, closing her fist. “I have a friend who... She was captured. She is a mutant too.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I came here”, she sighed, hugging her own body. “I can’t find her on my own, and well, you are the person to come to for these things. Or so people tell me.”

“Mm”, he mumbles, and his blue eyes seem to avoid hers at all costs. “I will find her, don’t worry”, Erik adds, with a hint of reassurance to his tone, almost as if he himself couldn’t hold that pose for long.

They stare at each other for a millisecond before she sighs again. (y/n) wants to kiss him, walk up to him confidently like she always did when they were together, take him into her arms and feel his touch, his breath, his love. Oh, how she missed him. She had lied to herself all this time, masking despair with rage, putting into her head they were past any possibility of reconciliation, only for it all to collapse now, at the first sight of his bright eyes.

Suddenly, there were no mutants or humans anymore, simply two bodies struggling to stay away from each other. Truly, like a magnet. And as if reading her thoughts, Erik uses his powers to pull her by the buckle of her belt slightly, in a silent invitation. As ever, he read her face like a book. Sharp inhales, restless eyes, hairs on end; they all told him everything he needed to know. She was still his, and he was still hers. He nudges her forward again, a little less subtle this time, and her cheeks blush helplessly as the space between them gradually shortens.

“Don’t be shy, Liebling”, there is the glimpse of a tease in his tone, however serious his expression may still be. Erik looks down on (y/n) with a tiny smile, a bit of cockiness too, and she can’t help but roll her eyes amusingly. He inquires, drawing her closer. “What?”

“Stop that”, she murmurs weakly, as his grip on her belt keeps pulling her to him. He responds by drawing her even nearer and pressing their bodies together at once, which makes a soft sound leave her lips, resemblant to a gasp. “Erik”, she breathes out, appalled and pleased by his boldness at the same time.

“Yes?”, Erik purrs, gripping at her sides softly.

He wants to kiss her, it’s clear, but he was never known for being a man who couldn’t control his urges, so he continues to stare, waiting for a response. His long fingers rub her hips in a slow, intimate, familiar movement. (y/n) shuts her eyes at his touch, laying her head on his chest, almost giving in. She was never a fighter when it came to Erik, anyway. And she knew she was losing this battle.

“You know we shouldn’t”, (y/n) whispers against the fabric of his shirt, and she can feel the vibration on his chest as a gravelly laugh reaches her ears.

“Yet we already are, my love.”

And just like that, any time spent apart was gone. (y/n) kissed him at last and he kissed her back eagerly, pushing her to the nearest wall he could find. The kiss is desperate, full of passion and but a tad of anger as their hands move somewhat frantically, not knowing exactly what to grab first. There is pause when they break away only to go deeper into each other’s mouths, his pale palms flying to her soft hair, pulling it lightly. (y/n) moans in his lips, melting completely, shamelessly, because no matter how much she tried; there was simply no escaping Erik Lehnsherr.

“Baby”, her words are a sweet whisper, and his ever somber features light up instantly at this.

“I missed you greatly, my dear”, he whispers back, entirely taken by his own emotion, still holding her waist.

“So did I, Erik”, (y/n) smiled, staring at him with all the love she repressed before. They shouldn’t be doing that, not again, not after everything, but it was difficult to be rational when flowers seemed to grow in her chest whenever he looked at her. “So did I.”

Erik brought (y/n) into another kiss, this time deeper and gentler, cupping her face. Nothing mattered anymore, not when she felt like this in his arms. It was the rightest thing to ever be wrong. And so, she let herself fall victim to Erik Lehnsherr’s magnetic powers once again, nothing in her even remotely hinting at regret for doing so. Perhaps later she could worry about everything else.

For now, his lips were enough.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #x-men fanfiction #magneto x reader #marvel imagine #michael fassbender #erik lehnsherr imagine #michael fassbender x reader #michael fassbender imagine #x-men x reader #x-men imagine #erik lehnsherr oneshot #erik lehnsherr #magneto

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incorrect-riordanverse · 1 year

Text

finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY

185 notes · View notes

thetreefairy · 1 year

Note

Platonic!yandere!Aang using the prompt Hydrangea please? Remember to drink water❤️🌼🕯️

Warning: Aang convinces the gaang that Reader needs him, airbender Reader, the gaang is also kinda starting to become yandere

Since pronounced were not specified: they/them reader

Hydrangea - "Perhaps we adore you too much to be just friends, family might be a better word." also can I just say I am terrified to start school again, this isn't my best but I hope you like it!

Kofi - 700 rules - 700 masterlist

Aang couldn't believe it, he had heard from Zuko that there was an another airbender.

So the gaang couldn't help but agree that they needed to rescue the unknown airbender. They were kept at a remote island, surrounded by fire benders, they had to investigate the routine in place.

Reader hated their abilities, they hated that they could bend air. The firebenders around them often ridiculing their abilities, yet the fire princess treated them kindly.

Azula had just visited and had given them a book about airbending traditions, as she knew how desperate Reader was to reconnect to their roots. The reason for this gift? Reader had been a good pet.

Aang couldn't help but feel a pit grow in his gut, how dare they harm his sibling. How dare they ridicule our culture. But most of all, the audacity Azula has to treat you like a pet.

The gaang had to formulate a plan, and it didn't take long for Aang to start visiting them sneakily.

their first meeting went as expected. Strange.

Reader was reading the book on the air nation, scoffing at some parts that were obviously altered to suit the fire lord's point of view. "The book isn't trustworthy." A boy said, you looked up in shock, ready to scream until you saw what he was wearing. 'He has to be the avatar, or is there perhaps another airbender?' Reader thought, they couldn't speak, they didn't trust their voice.

"I'll get you out of here." He promised. "I'll teach you about our culture."

He was rambling. "Are you the avatar?" Reader interrupts, causing his eyes to widen with joy. "Yes, I am, my name is Aang." He introduced himself. "Zuko told me about you, you are Reader right?"

Reader nodded. "The fire prince?" They asked softly. "Did Zuko finally find himself?"

Aang chuckled at Reader's wording. "I'll tell you all about it when we get you out of here."

After that it didn't take long for Reader to be rescued, it went quietly and Reader sighed in relief when they were at a cave with the gaang. Shaking as they hugged Aang.

"I am Katara, this is my brother Sokka." Katara introduced herself and her brother. "I am Toph." The earthbender introduced himself.

"Hi Reader, it has been a while." Zuko started as he bowed slightly. "I apologize for my sister's behavior and my past insolence."

Reader then hugged Zuko and introduced themself to the gaang. "Thank you for rescuing me, I'll make sure to be out of your hair quickly." Reader added to their introduction, causing Aang's eyes to harden.

"You can stay with us for a while." Katara told Reader, Toph hummed in agreement and said; "Yeah, twinkle toes was so excited to find another twinkle toes, you can't just leave right away."

Alarm bells rang in their head, but they chose to ignore it.

How wrong that was of them.

During one of their stops at a village, Reader had made a lot of money with their story telling. Toph was always with them when they told their stories, and quite frankly she enjoyed them.

Aang wasn't allowed to stay with Reader during story telling because he would scare everyone off with a glare.

'At least he thought them about their culture' Reader thought whenever they saw unusual behavior from Aang.

When Reader saw that they had enough money to make it on their own for a while, they announced it to the gaang causing an uproar. "No." Aang said right away. "You can't.

"Twinkle junior, you need Aang." Toph would say. "You aren't as tough as me yet."

Reader had looked at Zuko for back up as the gaang gave them the reasons to stay and why they are too weak to live on their own, but he shook his head as well. So Reader decided to confront them.

"Why are you guys acting like this, this isn't how friends are supposed to act."

"Perhaps we adore you too much." Aang started. "To simply just be friends."

A nervous chuckle left Reader's mouth

"Family might be a better word."

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godsiero · 24 days

Text

promises (found a title)

heyo, i’m back with PLOT and EXPOSITION. sorry it’s so long, but this is needed information! it could’ve been longer, but then i realized it was nearing 10k and decided to stop lmao. i actually edited and proofread this one before posting it like a big girl so i hope the five people who read it enjoy it! i love this so much, but also please criticise me.

chapter one is here

wc: 9k

warnings: physical abuse (oc), panic attack (oc), hurt/comfort (spencer is the sweetest), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, general cm content, mentions of possible sexual harassment

__________________________________________

In the six months that had passed since joining the team, Claudia had started to fit right in, the same way Morgan had said she would. Any time she’d had off, she found herself sharing it with Spencer; discussing books and reading over the essays of past agents Blake and Lewis, whom he spoke highly of, and she wished she could’ve met them while they were on the team. They bonded over their time as professors, discussing the different experiences they’d had; Spencer with his classes full of auditing students (Claudia sensed there was something fishy behind that), Claudia with her classes full of boys who would never listen. That made Spencer a certain type of upset he couldn’t quite place. He’d ask her about it another time.

Claudia was the first person in a long time to hold a candle to Gideon when it came to playing chess with Spencer, again, it gave him a feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place. When they played chess, they would either sit in silence, or they would both ramble off at each other about everything and nothing, and they quickly discovered they had a lot more in common than their academic tastes.

Claudia had put him in check during one of their games and mumbled “Allons-y!” under her breath in a tired haze. She hadn’t realized Spencer had heard her until she heard his laugh (which she enjoyed getting out of him, often, but that was neither here nor there).

“Were you showing me you’ve been working on your French, or were you quoting David Tennant’s doctor?” Spencer had his suspicions that Claudia had at least seen a little bit of the show. She had a scarf that was a subtler version of the fourth Doctor’s and sometimes he’d see her notes she would take during briefings and on the plane, and he’d notice she would doodle the different screwdrivers, but he’d never tell her he was looking so closely at something so small that was only meant for her to see. She would never tell him she’s noticed his wandering eye.

She smiled into herself, trying to avoid his gaze, cursing herself for outing one of her secrets so obviously. It was one thing to subtly hint she’d had the interest, it was another thing entirely to let it slip out so clearly. She’d wanted to wait a little longer before showing the team who she really, really was, but she thinks she’d be fine with him knowing her a little better than anybody else.

“What if it was both?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could’ve been watching it together this whole time!”

Hearing him say the words “we” and “together” in the same sentence and referring to her gave her a certain sort of pride and honor she did not want to think too deeply about, considering he probably used the same words when talking about something else with someone else.

“I don’t know…” Claudia decided to come clean, partially, “I might have been…hiding a few things about myself for fear of seeming…juvenile?” She phrased it like a question because saying it out loud to someone for the first time made her feel really stupid and she suddenly regretted ever hiding herself from any of them, especially Spencer.

He looked her in the eyes, “Claudia. Your personal interests, no matter how ‘juvenile,’ do not diminish your intellect. Liking Doctor Who and having fun does not make you any less of an academic, it makes you human.”

She was surprised by how empathetic he was being. She’d gotten to know him on a personal and friendly level, and she was proud of that (especially since, according to Penelope, he was unusually quick to open up to Claudia), but she hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate.

“I know, but…” she focused her gaze somewhere else, trying to think of a logical reason to explain away why she felt lying so profusely was necessary. She wanted them to know her, why was she still hiding?

“No, there doesn’t need to be a ‘but,’ you can just be honest, now. I’ve found you out, I know you’re a nerd, I know you’re a loser, just like me, it’s okay,” she knew he was joking, but he gave her a sympathetic look anyway, to prove it.

“First of all, doctor, you do not know a thing about me, in due time.”

“Oh, really?” he kept his playful air about him while going on his rant, “Then how do I know you’re never listening to a podcast when you have your headphones in? How do I know that you’re actually listening to a variety of music from various genres that are all subgenres of rock or metal? How do I know that your favorite of all of that music came out between the years of 2002 and 2008? How do I know that you often listen to the same songs over and over again because you can’t get enough of them until you catch an itch to listen to a different song approximately 12 times in a row, without getting bored? If I, presumably, don’t know a thing about you, how is it that I know, arguably, the most important thing about you?”

For lack of a better word, Claudia was speechless.

He had just made an absolute fool out of her and she couldn’t even say a word.

So she started laughing.

She wasn’t laughing at him. She was laughing at how stupid she had been to think she could’ve gotten anything past him, especially the thing that meant the most to her.

“Are you laughing because I’m right? Because I know I’m right. I know I tend to be right, but there is a less than 5% chance I’m wrong and just made an idiot of myself,” he was chuckling along with her.

Gasping for air while she spoke, or rather, yelled, “YES! Yes, god, you’re right, you’re right! But Jesus Christ, you didn’t have to hit the nail on the head, Spencer!”

He gave her a playful side-smile, “I knew I’d figure you out. You had me fooled for a while there.”

“That was the idea.”

“Why? I understood the fear of appearing juvenile, but, forgive me, your music taste is anything but. And that’s coming from someone who listens to Mozart and Bach.”

“I just wanted everyone to see me as this…proper…professional. I don’t know, being the youngest on a team full of people who have known each other for a decade is a little intimidating,” she was the one rambling, now, “so long story short I tried to hide everything that made me, me so everybody would like me and think I was incredible at this job, and it worked, I guess, because JJ and Emily come to me for advice and Morgan talks to me about his fatherly insecurities and Rossi invites me over to his mansion to discuss cultura e storia and I work out with Hotch and I don’t even know how I ended up in such situations, but it seems a thank you is in order to give to my fake self that is quiet, yet sassy, and firm, yet soft, and totally and completely calm any time you lay eyes on her, meanwhile Claudia Jessup is actually a loud and abrasive autistic freak who self-soothes by blasting music so loud, you’d think I’d gone deaf by now, and buying trinkets that make my heart flutter, and drinking coffee as much as I possibly can because it makes me feel like it’s always cold outside, and buying romance books because I just love reading about two people going stupid with how desperate they are for each other, and I also love the way they smell and how they feel when I flip all of the pages at the same time, and I love Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and I am tired of pretending he was a terrible choice.”

She finally gasped for air and came out of her self-induced tunnel vision to see Spencer. Still sitting across from her, at his chess table, in his apartment. He hadn’t stopped listening. He hadn’t gotten up and begun to ignore her. He hadn’t walked to the door to tell her to leave. He’d just listened. A grin adorned his face. He was bursting at the seams with pride. He was so happy to get the truth out of her. He’d gotten so close to her, so fast, that she’d let her mask slip a few times, and he was determined to crack her open, and he did. At first, he felt bad. He felt as though he’d pushed her too far, before she was ready, but he could tell, now, that she had needed to do that. She needed to stop hiding and lying.

“Feel better?”

She felt like she just finished with a manic episode. She was laughing with every exhale, she put her elbows on her knees, and put her hands on her forehead, staring at the ground, eyes wide, “Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. I feel…I feel like I just went supernova on you…”

“I certainly don’t feel like you just went supernova on me.”

“And I think if I stay here any longer, I might suck you into the black hole.”

She’d had breaks like this before. The end of a long period of masking. The beginning of the end was always an epiphany; it made her feel high. Then it was followed by panic; she felt like she’d gone too far, blown everything out of proportion, gone supernova. Then finally, she would bring everything in her wake down with her, in a fit of embarrassing, dramatic, and unintentional rage and emotion she’d never meant to place on anybody. She needed to get away from Spencer immediately; she didn’t want him to see that part of her. Ever.

In addition to the obvious, this conversation with Spencer, and his response and reaction, had flipped a switch inside of her. She’d realized there was something she needed to do before she could fully, officially open up to everybody on the team, and she thought she was finally in the position to do it. She got up from his chess table and started to get her things.

“Claudia, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…really don’t want you to see what happens next…”

“Where are you going?”

“I just…there’s something I need to do tonight.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, no, thank you, that’s okay. I need to be alone. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay…be safe.”

“I will, I promise. Get some sleep.”

“Okay…call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Claudia”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

As she left Spencer’s apartment, she double checked everything: her bank account, her lease, her insurance, her storage unit, her security system. She couldn’t believe it took her this long to act on the plan she’d been silently hatching with herself, but she needed to be positive she could do it by herself before making her first move.

Claudia spent the last five years in a relationship. She spent the last three years living with them. She spent the last two in self defense and boxing classes. Over the last six months, she’d been working up the courage to prove to herself she could survive on her own. Despite her time with the CSI, her time as a professor, and her time as a licensed therapist, she still had never been able to safely and securely leave. Something about Spencer figuring her out and her spilling her guts to him and him still hanging around without a trace of fear in his eyes made her realize she could’ve and should’ve done this years ago. She leveled with herself and said better late than never.

When she arrived home, he wasn’t there, thank god. She didn’t know how she was going to go about this, at all. She looked around and hated everything she saw. Like she told Spencer earlier, she would always buy little trinkets and toys and paintings and books and blankets and mugs she liked, but she never had anywhere to put them. Seeing things that brought her joy in a place that brought her so much pain made her feel stupid. She hated feeling happy around him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of even thinking he caused it, not that he would, he hated her just as much as she hated him. They barely even spoke or saw each other any more, neither of them were ever home at the same time, even before she got this job, not that she was complaining.

They did love each other, once. A long time ago. He thought she was smart, she thought he was alive. They liked the same music, ran in the same crowds, it seemed right, and it was for two years. It was nice, he was nice. Eventually, though, she’d started paying less and less attention to him. Not out of anything personal, but because her career had started falling into place; she’d become a professor at Penn, she’d been promoted with the CSI, and she’d kept clients for years, at that point; she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.

And he hadn’t. He built up a resentment towards her. He started partying more, drinking more, doing drugs, cheating on her (though he didn’t know she knew that). She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew something changed. It was when he came home in a drunken rage and hit her that she realized nothing would ever be the same. At the time, it had felt like a one-time-thing. You would think she would’ve left, given what she knew, but she saw it as an opportunity for a case study. Selfish? Of course, but she was putting herself at risk for the sake of science, she could live with that.

She had tried doting on him more, being kinder, going out of her way to please him, and she found he had been nicer, happier, more tolerant of her busy schedule. After a month, she started ignoring him again, throwing herself into her work, never coming home before he was asleep, and her theory was right, that set him off again. This time, he wasn’t drunk, and he beat the shit out of her. Shouting at her, spitting on her, very nearly breaking her bones, definitely leaving some deep cuts and bruises that took weeks to go away. In the middle of it all, she’d started taking classes to be sure if he ever went too far, she could fight back, and take him down. That went on until he got bored.

A year. She spent a year conducting this study. After he’d finally got tired of his affectionately abusive cocktail, he stopped paying attention to her entirely. That was when she really cracked down on her work, but the second she was able to focus totally and completely on that, Roy got sick. She would’ve finished her PhD early, but she started worrying about him. She stayed with him and cared for him as long as she could, until…

The months after were a blur. She focused on her work when she needed to. When she wasn’t working, she was at home. Not her apartment, but home, where she’d grown up. Going through everything, not that there was much. Roy was never a material kind of guy. He sure knew how to raise a material kind of girl, though.

She had taken far longer than she needed to. She didn’t want to leave that house. She didn’t want to go back to the one she lived in now. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. The day she had finished cleaning out the house was the day she decided to leave him, even though she didn’t know how. She knew it would take a while, but she promised herself, and Roy, that she would do it.

Claudia Jessup did not break her promises.

She’d had to move him to D.C. with her. He didn’t have to come, but he did. He could’ve ended it when she left Philadelphia, but he needed her for the same reason she needed him. She was about to rip that security out from underneath him, and she felt an excitement bubbling beneath her skin that was not unlike the adrenaline she experienced while out in the field.

She was determined to stay up until he got home. She didn’t know when, or if, that would happen tonight, but it didn’t matter. It was a promise she made herself, so she was going to keep it.

She got in the shower, taking advantage of the solitude and blasting her music for the first time in what seemed like forever. She needed it. She felt bad about leaving Spencer; she wanted to text him; she’ll do it when she gets out. She’d make it up to him on Monday, when she brought him his coffee.

That was a sweet exchange. Claudia had done into the bullpen with coffee from The Grounds. Not her favorite place to get a cup from, but certainly the closest and easily accessible on her way to work. You would never believe the absolute shock on her face when Spencer had entered her and Penelope’s conversation with a cup from Coci, her preferred choice of coffee shop in the harbour. She instantly started interrogating him about it.

“Is that from Coci?”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite, but my favorite is kind of out of the way for me, so I settle for second best. Anything beats the pot here,” she feigned betrayal on her face at his admission.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you say drinking from Coci is a ‘second best’ kind of experience,” she said dreamily.

“Because I believe it is. I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I prefer. I’d love to get a cup from The Grounds, but that would add an extra twenty minutes to my commute, and that’s not worth it.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded, looked at her own coffee, and turned it toward him so that the label faced him.

“You mean…this ‘The Grounds’ coffee?”

It was Spencer’s turn to be playfully shocked, “Oh my god! You go to The Grounds?”

“Since moving here, yes, and I would say this is second best to my one true love, Coci.”

“Well I think it’s settled then. How do you take yours?”

“Black and scalding, why?”

“I’m going to start bringing you your order, if you don’t mind bringing mine. This seems a fair exchange.”

“You’re not “boy genius” for nothing, clearly,” he’d told her his coffee should have at least eight packs of sugar in it, which made her laugh. When he didn’t say he was joking, she looked very concerned, “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

With that, a tradition had started: every morning, Spencer had brought her her favorite black coffee and Claudia had brought him his favorite black coffee…with a ridiculous amount of sugar.

“Sugar with coffee,” she said.

“Coffee with nothing,” he replied.

They cheered each other and said that every single morning since then, and she’d hoped it would never stop.

She’d gotten so wrapped up in the memory, she didn’t hear her music stop playing because she was getting a phone call. She was in the middle of washing her face when she opened the shower curtain to see she was getting a call from Garcia. She rinsed off her face with record breaking speed and picked up her phone, while still halfway in the shower.

“Garcia?”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late, or, uh, early, but we’ve got a case. Get here as soon as you can and be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in thirty,” and she hung up the phone. She could’ve said twenty, but since it was four in the morning, she figured she may as well keep up appearances with Spencer, while it was on her mind.

She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and instantly regretted having the music so loud, she’d hoped her neighbors wouldn’t mind. She got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, running into him.

“Jesus, Devon, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of somebody coming into her home, so not hearing that he’d come in shocked her a little.

“Feeling a little jumpy, Claude? Your big girl job scaring you yet?”

“You? Scare me? Not in a million years. And don’t call me that,” she pushed past him and tried to get her go bag from the front closet, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Where are you going? It’s four in the morning on a Sunday.”

“One, I don’t have to tell you where I’m going. Two, this happens sometimes. Three, you’re drunk,” she could’ve pulled out of his grasp, but chose not to. Now was as good a time as ever to execute her plan. Case be damned, this needed to happen, now, or she wouldn’t have the opportunity again, for who knows how long.

He held onto her arm tighter, “What? You gonna arrest me for drinking, officer?”

“I’m not an officer. Let me go, Devon.”

“Why? So you can run off to your little brainiac?” he had let her go, but he did so by tossing her away.

“There is no way you are accusing me of cheating right now.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not, why does it matter to you?”

He abruptly ran up to her, gripped her shoulders, and pinned her against the wall, gritting through his teeth, “Because I’d like to know if I need to teach somebody a lesson on loyalty.”

She spit in his face, then, which caused him to pull her off the wall and slam her head right back into it.

“You think you can treat me like that, bitch?” he was yelling now. She was holding the back of her head.

“Yes, actually, I do. You’re a drugged up drunk who beats on someone who’s never done a single thing to you besides stay with you through all of your bullshit, including cheating on her.”

He gave her a good backhand slap, that sent her to the ground, “You don’t know that, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but thank you for the confirmation,” she smiled a rueful smile at him and stood up. She felt blood running down her face. He had a ring he always wore on his finger that must’ve cut her face, when he hit it.

He hit her in the same spot and sent her to the ground again, this time with his fist.

“Keep ‘em comin’, Devon, beat the shit out of me like you always do!” at that, he put his hands around her neck, pulled her up, and slammed her against the wall again, this time cutting off her airway.

She choked out, “Go…a-ahead. Sh-show…the gov..ernment…what…y-you…can…do-”

He threw her to the ground at the reminder of her job, “God dammit Claudia, why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what? Ready and willing to please you?” she was clutching her throat, gasping for air between words.

He had never liked when she was sarcastic, he grabbed her face with his hand, “Don’t fuck with me,” and kneed her in the stomach, throwing her on the ground.

She couldn’t help but let out a grunt, at that. She might be mentally fine with his abuse, but he was still fully capable of hurting her.

He flipped her over and straddled her, making sure she stayed on the ground, not that she was going to try to get up, and he went to town on her face with his fists.

Between blows she would manage to get out, “‘Do your worst, inferior one,’” this threw him off, so he hesitated on his next punch, which gave her the opportunity to take advantage of him. She tucked her leg under his bent knee and flipped him over, pinned his arms to the ground, and started pressing her forearm into his neck ever so slightly before getting really close to his face and saying, “Take a good look at your handiwork, Devon. Enjoy it while you can because you will never see me again,” her entire face was bloody and swollen. She knew he loved to look at the damage he had done to her, knowing it made her beautiful face unsightly, making people turn away from her on the street when her favorite thing was human connection. This was how he took her down. Or so he thought.

“Listen to me right now. Nobody. Will ever know you did this to me. The FBI will never know you did this to me. I’m not going to report you. I’m not going to have you arrested. I’m not going to tell a single soul how this happened. Not. Even. Spencer.” she knew that would set him off. He wanted to hate Spencer for ruining his relationship, for being smarter, for being everything he could never be. He was stuck in a state of delusion, thinking everything was fine before Spencer came along. He thought leaving his marks on her let Spencer know she was his and she belonged to him, not some nerd at her job. Little did he know she had never let anybody know the marks were from him because nobody knew about him to begin with. They knew she took boxing courses at the bureau, which they all knew could get ugly, but were worth it for the experience and pay off. Any marks they saw on her were easily explained away by that.

“You are going to give me your key. You are going to walk out of here before me. We. Are. Done. Do you understand me?” he didn’t respond because of the lack of oxygen getting to his brain, “Do you understand me?” she said it much louder, then, and he nodded as best he could.

“Take your key off of your belt.”

She let go of his left arm and he slid it down to his belt loop where he’d had his keys on a carabiner. He unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

After that, she climbed off of him, went to the keys, found the one he’d had to the place, and took it off. Triple checking he hadn’t made a copy. He was too stupid to hide one anywhere and she was too smart to leave one hidden in case of an emergency for him to know about.

He couldn’t even go after her to give her a piece of his mind because he was too busy regaining full consciousness while she was dealing with the keys. When she was finished, she walked back over to him, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and pulled him into a standing position. She didn’t say anything to him as she opened the door and shoved him outside. She locked all three locks before walking back into her bathroom to check the damage he’d done.

This was probably the worst he’d ever done to her. Her lips were busted, her gums were bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were bruised. She had cuts all over her face, her ribs were bruised, and there were ten faint lines burned into her neck from where his hands had been.

She looked herself in the eye and smiled. She started crying to herself. She’d never been more proud of something she had done, including make Roy proud. She was honored to be in this body and in this mind and make it out alive of what she’d just done.

She cleaned herself up, put on some makeup, and a few butterfly bandages.

She examined herself and determined the way she looked now would pass as “a few cuts and bruises from Luke at the training facility.”

Then, she remembered she promised Spencer to call him if she needed anything (it was not lost on her that she also promised him that she would be safe, and although she just got the pulp beaten out of her, she was safe the entire time).

While she was leaving her apartment, she’d called Spencer.

He picked up the phone with his typical sass, “Did you even sleep?”

“No. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“I told you to get some sleep!”

“I never promised that I would.”

“Touche. I made a promise, though, and that was to call you if I needed anything…”

“Coci?”

“You’re already there aren’t you?”

“You think just because it’s four in the morning on a Sunday I’d forget about my Claudia’s coffee? Who do you think I am? Some sort of criminal?”

She deliberately ignored how casually he called her his Claudia.

“No, somebody else did that already.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You can make it up to me by returning the favor.”

“On it, bud. Over and out.”

By the time she hung up, she’d gotten into her car, and made her way to The Grounds.

__________________________________________

Claudia had been walking into the front entrance of the BAU’s building when she noticed Spencer was the person a few feet in front of her.

“Hey! Sugar with coffee!” she shouted to get his attention.

He’d just finished swiping his card, so he opened the door and held it for her (which was strictly against policy, but it was Claudia).

“Coffee with nothing,” they exchanged cups as she walked through the door, “my god they did a number on you didn’t they?” he’d begun to inspect her face, seeing all of the cuts she’d bandaged. She looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, then he saw where his eyes were going as he inspected her face, and remembered.

“Oh. Yeah,” before she could say anymore, she remembered she promised not to lie to him anymore. Her admission was honest enough. She never promised to not withhold information.

He had a subtle hint of concern in his eyes that he normally didn’t have when he noticed her cuts and bruises she got from the training facility. He felt like something was off about these, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she wasn’t lying, but something was off about how she avoided eye contact with him after he’d said something.

Then he remembered the facility didn’t have classes on Sunday, and when she’d left his apartment only hours before, she didn’t look like that.

He was just about to pry more information out of her, when they ran into JJ, coming from the opposite direction.

“Anybody else feel like they’re sleepwalking?”

“Tell me about it, I didn’t sleep at all, literally,” Claudia chuckled.

“Me neither, Henry has had food poisoning, and my mother was staying with us, talk about having your hands full.”

The elevator dinged. Claudia and JJ stepped into the elevator, while Spencer stayed put, stuck in a daze.

“Spence?”

“Earth to Spencer?”

He snapped back into reality and forced his thoughts of what Claudia was keeping from him back down his throat and into the confines of his reminders for later.

“Sorry, need to drink this coffee faster I guess,” he tried at a joke, but they could both see something else turning the gears of that big brain of his.

Claudia knew it had something to do with her, judging by his previous reaction, and considering she didn’t exactly want to talk about it in front of JJ, she stayed silent.

JJ, however, had other plans, “Are you okay? You look a little…”

Before she could finish, he blinked and shook his head like a dog after a bath, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired,” to really seal the deal, he let out a huge yawn, which made Claudia and JJ follow suit.

Mid-yawn, breaking the tension between her and Spencer, Claudia said, “My god, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he picked up that that was her way of acknowledging she knew that he knew she was hiding something from him, so he calmed down a bit too. By the time he said that, they’d reached the sixth floor, only to be met by the rest of the team heading into the elevator.

“No time to brief you three. Wheels up now.”

__________________________________________

The plane ride was lackluster, the case is straightforward, but still unable to be solved, for now. This unsub is particularly frantic and unpredictable with his timing, but his MO suggests he was abandoned by his father and looking for surrogates now. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

After a long flight to Seattle and the drive to this small town thirty miles outside of it, Hotch demanded everyone get some sleep in order to crack down on this guy the next day.

The small town hospitality was not unrecognized. Everybody knew everybody, so when the local police needed to house FBI agents who were trying to catch the man killing well-respected people of the community, loads of folks opened their doors, including a local inn.

Owned and operated by a retired couple in their seventies, it had surprisingly good business, which, unfortunately for the team, meant they had to bunk.

“Lucky for us they still have three rooms available,” Hotch said.

“Lucky? Hotch, have you noticed there are six of us?” Morgan was always the first to despise the idea of bunking with anybody.

“Yes, I have, which is why we’re lucky they still have three rooms and not two.”

“Well, JJ, let’s get a move-on,” Emily had already grabbed her go-bag and took a key from Hotch without a second thought.

“Well, I am absolutely not rooming with Reid,” Morgan had always had a strict “no Spencer” clause when it came to situations like this.

“Guess it’s you and me then,” Hotch had responded to Derek, until he realized who that left, “oh…”

Neither Spencer, nor Claudia, had realized this either until the moment came. Claudia had stopped scrolling on her phone and Spencer had stopped perusing the lobby, waiting for his room assignment, but they heard Hotch’s exclamation.

They both looked at Hotch, then at each other, the back at Hotch before saying, at the exact same time:

“It’s totally fine, we’re friends.”

“There’ll be a male and female pair no matter what we do.”

They looked back at each other one last time before Hotch said, “Okay. As long as you’re both okay with this arrangement, I won’t bother anybody over it.”

He threw Claudia the key before leading Morgan up the stairs to their room. Hotch muttered something to Derek that made him yell with laughter. Spencer and Claudia could only imagine what that was about.

As if on cue, the two looked at each other at the exact same time and started giggling like children who had caught their parents doing something silly.

“Come on,” Claudia said through her fit of laughter.

As she walked ahead of him, Spencer’s mind wandered back to the cuts on her face. He’d thought she’d had more makeup on today than usual. Not that he often paid attention to how little or how much makeup she wore (she rarely wore more than the bare minimum, but he only knew that because she wore a bit less than JJ, Emily, and Garcia). He thought it was strange that she not only procured multiple cuts, but had also been wearing a turtleneck in August. Not the most absurd thing to see, but definitely not ordinary. He wondered if she packed more to continue hiding.

They walked to the room in a comfortable silence, but there was still something lingering between them, and they both knew what it was.

Claudia arrived at the door and unlocked it, making her way inside to, thankfully, see two beds. She had read enough romance novels to know sharing a room with your best friend by chance usually leads things in a crazy direction she did not want to go into tonight (or ever, for that matter, she shoved that thought deep, deep down). She had also had enough sense in her to know that things like that don’t happen in real life.

“Which bed do you want?” Spencer knocked her out of her train of thought.

“Oh, uh,” she wanted to lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did, so she sucked it up and told herself that it’s just Spencer. She could tell him everything, no matter how silly or mundane it seemed.

“Could I have the one next to the air conditioner?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer stood in between the beds and threw his stuff on the one farther away from the ac, so that he could bow to her bed and say, “your throne awaits, my Queen,” in a truly terrible impression of one of the characters from the cartoon portion of Mary Poppins, but it made her laugh, nonetheless.

He started laughing with her, and while she tried to breathe through her laughs she asked, “What on god’s good earth was that!”

“I have no idea, I’m so tired,” he was still laughing, too, “but I did want to…diffuse some tension,” he calmed down to look her in her eyes, pleading for her to finish telling him the truth about what happened to her.

When she just stared back at him, he continued, “Claudia, there is no training at the facility on Sunday. You didn’t get those from Luke.”

She looked away from him, then. She felt her eyes start to burn, but she refused to crack in front of him.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get them from,” Spencer was being very gentle with his delivery, which she appreciated.

After a moment’s silence, weighing her options, she said, “Spencer. I will tell you,” she took in a shaky breath, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I,” at that, he held up his pinky for her to take. They’d had a discussion a while ago where they both thought keeping a pinky promise was above the law, space, and time, and they meant it, wholeheartedly. She looked between his eyes and his hand and took his pinky in hers. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed his thumb. He pushed their hands towards her and she did the same.

Neither of them tried to let go by the time she started talking, so they both held on tighter.

“Uh…so…like I already told you, I had been trying to keep parts of myself a secret,” she looked into his eyes to be sure he was listening (and also to seek solace). He nodded.

“Well, one of the biggest was that I…kind of…maybe…had a boyfriend…the whole time…” Spencer’s eyes went wide with shock and his brow furrowed at this admission. Of all the things he’s seen through, he never would’ve guessed that.

“You- what?”

He wasn’t mad, he was genuinely surprised.

“Emphasis on the word ‘had,’” she rolled her eyes, “as of this morning.”

Spencer realized where this was going and he felt his chest and jaw clench, his eyes burn, and his blood pulsing everywhere.

Claudia noticed those physical changes and she couldn’t help but look at him like he was a lost puppy. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything Devon had ever done to her.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist that was holding her pinky, “I don’t want to make you upset-“

He cut her off, “Nothing you are doing is making me upset, I promise. Keep going.”

At that, Claudia sat down on the bed Spencer had claimed as his, and she pulled him down to sit next to her. She didn’t think she could look into those doe eyes of his any longer without completely breaking down, especially while saying what she was about to say.

“I started dating him halfway through the first year of my doctorate. I went to all of these concerts with my friends from my undergrad program and he was always there too. I thought he was cool. My friends who were friends with his friends thought he was cool. We kissed a few times, went on some dates, and started seeing each other. He supported me through half of my time at Penn; he made sure I ate between teaching courses and having sessions with my clients. He made sure I slept enough when I got back from investigations with the CSI, even if it meant canceling some of my classes, my students always understood. After we moved in together, something…switched in him. He started drinking, he stopped going to work, he started avoiding me. One day, after weeks of me being absent and juggling everything all at once, I came home and he was angry. A kind of angry I had never seen before from anybody. He…threw his nearly-full bottle of beer at the door I had walked through. It barely missed my head. When it did, he ran me into the wall and started choking me. My head hit the wall so hard, I nearly fainted. When I didn’t faint, he punched me. Then I blacked out…”

“Did he-“ she knew what Spencer was alluding to, and didn’t want him to finish his sentence.

“No. No. He never did that,” there were times, however, that she had felt the same amount of passion was not reciprocated. But she didn’t want to tell him that. That had nothing to do with this.

“I woke up on the floor, confused. I figured it was a fit of drunken rage, so I decided not to think too hard about it. That is, until, it kept happening,” Spencer felt like his muscles and his bones were going to rip out of his skin. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands had started to shake from keeping all of this rage inside of him. Claudia noticed, but if she didn’t keep talking, she’d never finish. She needed this to end just as badly as him, and if she didn’t tell him everything, he would know.

“That was my life for a year. It only happened when he was drunk, but it got worse. After the second time, the time I knew it was all intentional, I started taking self-defense and boxing classes and I promised myself I would leave him, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t live by myself. I didn’t want to tell anybody this was happening, especially not-“ she felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if she should or could tell Spencer about Roy. Her eyes were wet now, but she was stubborn as all hell, and refused to cry in front of him about something as stupid as Devon. Roy, on the other hand, she could cry about Roy any time of day, and she wasn’t even a crier, but she didn’t think it was fair to dump all of that onto Spencer when she was already telling him all of this.

“Especially not who?” she hadn’t realized she zoned out while weighing her options. Now he would definitely know she was keeping something from him. Honesty, it is then.

“Somebody I…I can’t tell you about, right now, or ever, maybe, but…” she didn’t know how to justify her reasoning for that besides the fact that she had made a bigger promise to Roy to try not to dwell on him. Or talk about him. Thanks for the impossible task, jackass.

“It’s okay. Keep going,” Spencer was being so nice to her, she felt like she would shatter into a million pieces with how fragile she felt.

She told him about her study she’d conducted on him. Spencer recognized it as a part of her dissertation she had written. This whole time, his favorite part of her dissertation, a part that felt so clinical, so real, so calculated, and so emotional wasn’t about a willing client of Claudia’s. It was about Claudia herself. He felt like he was going to be sick.

She didn’t notice, so she kept going. She began to ramble because she realized that would be the only way to get all of this out. She told him about how their conversation led her to finally make the decision to enact this ridiculous plan of hers.

“Wait,” broken from his trance, Spencer spoke up, “I caused this?”

“What? Spencer, no, absolutely not. I need you to understand that I could’ve fought back. I could’ve taken him down. I could’ve done to him what he did to me tenfold. I chose to let him do so much. It was a…selfish, psychological manipulation,” she suddenly felt horrible admitting that’s what she’d done. She felt as low as him now, “Which I realize was stupid and immature, but…I wanted him to think he was safe. I wanted him to think this was business as usual. And then I wanted to rip the rug out from under him. Crush his hopes of thinking he ever had control. From the second time he’d done this, the control was in my hands. You know, he thought everyone knew he did this to me? He took pride in it, but he never knew I covered them. He never knew you all knew I took boxing at the facility. He never knew none of you knew about him, until I told him this morning. The look behind his eyes was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on film. He looked so…defeated.”

She’d developed a death grip on Spencer’s wrist and instantly let go. She felt like something was breaking inside of her. She didn’t feel like herself. She was an aggressive person. She was a loud person. Hell, she was even violent, when it came to a punching bag, but the way she psychologically tortured Devon with one sentence felt like she betrayed every good thing she had ever done in the name of justice.

She got up from the bed, then, and started pacing, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know, everything? Holding your wrist too tight, telling you all of that, god, you probably think I’m insane now. You probably think I’m an absolute psycho who gets pleasure out of making people feel small, oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry, Spencer, I ruined everything, please please please don’t hate me, please don’t tell me I ruined everything. Oh my god I don’t think I can handle losing you, too, right now,” she had begun to shake and hyperventilate. Spencer almost couldn’t take the sight of her like this. He never wanted to see her in pain.

“Hey,” he touched her shoulder, and guided her to sit back down, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We are okay,” he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her upper back, slowly rubbing random patterns across it.

“Can you…can you please stop that?” Claudia had never found someone rubbing her back to be soothing in the case of a panic attack, she found it actually made her feel more suffocated, but she knew Spencer didn’t know that, so she tried to ask in the nicest way possible, given the circumstances.

“Of course,” Spencer instantly stopped and removed his hand, “is there anything else you’d like me to do instead?” He was using that godforsaken whisper of his that made him seem so damn kind and understanding. She heard him use it with children multiple times out in the field, but she never thought he’d be using it on her. The tears might start falling, now, she thought.

“I don’t…I don’t know, could you…could you hold my hand really tight, please?”

She still couldn’t get a hold of her breathing. Her eyes were sealed shut and she was rubbing her hands over her pants; she felt the need to be in constant motion to remind herself that she was still alive.

“Yes,” he grabbed her right hand in both of his and gripped as hard as he thought was necessary without hurting her.

“Could you…could you squeeze harder,” she needed to feel like her circulation was about to be cut off in order for it to work.

“Harder? Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He squeezed harder until it hurt him to keep going, and he kept that pressure there until she told him to stop. While he was gripping her hand, her breathing slowed, and her left hand had stopped rubbing her leg. Her grip on him hadn’t lessened, though, so he didn’t let go of that.

Her eyes were still shut, but she said, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Claudia, you didn’t scare me by having a panic attack.”

“But I did scare you?”

“No, you didn’t scare me at all, for any reason, I promise,” it baffled him that she thought that would’ve scared him. If anything, it made him admire her more now that she was comfortable enough to let him see this side of her. Granted, you don’t choose when a panic attack happens, but she could’ve left the room if she wanted to. He knew that.

“You can loosen your hand now,” she was careful not to say ‘let go,’ because she didn’t want him to let go.

He did, but his grip was still firm, tethering her to this moment, to him, to the bed they sat on.

“Do you want some water?”

“Please.”

There were complimentary waters in the room, but they weren’t cold, and he knew she would’ve preferred it to be ice cold freezing. She sensed that’s what he was thinking about when he hesitated to bring it over to her.

“Any water, please, Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he handed her the bottle and she chugged almost the whole thing in one go. She loved the way gulping felt in her throat. It made her feel full after feeling so empty, like all of the life had been sucked out of her.

They stayed silent for a moment while she finished the last of the water, until she finally took a breath and spoke up.

“Okay. Spencer,” she stood across from him and looked him in the eyes; her normal ‘business-as-usual’ self coming back like a charm, “I am going to shower. In that shower, I am going to wash my face. Washing my face means the makeup is going to come off. The makeup covering the worst of the gory details. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“When I get out, I would prefer it if you were wrapped up in something else. After the fiasco that just happened, my god, I do not want you to see…this,” she gestured to her entire neck and face, “please be preoccupied. I am begging you.”

He was hesitant to agree. He had a conflict going on inside of him. On one hand, he wanted to see what that bastard really did to her, what extent he went to. On the other…he didn’t want to see her torn apart and beaten with such scrutiny. He didn’t want to see any of it. He wanted to see all of it.

“Okay. I’ll just go to bed. If you need me, wake me up. I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” and with that, she went into the bathroom.

It was probably the best and the worst shower of her entire life. The best because the shower after a panic attack is always incredible and the worst because the shower after a panic attack is always like coming down after a high.

That is, literally, what it is, in a way. She had shattered in that bedroom and Spencer, dear as he was, picked up the pieces, but she had to mend herself.

The tears never fell, they usually don’t. She let the warmth (some might even say scalding hot heat) engulf her. She had to feel like she was in a sauna and a hot spring simultaneously to have the prime shower experience, panic attack notwithstanding, this was a daily need. She let it run over her face, clearing her mind of the headache she felt coming on. She breathed some more and she rubbed her face before finally scrubbing the awful events of that morning off of her. Normally, she showered quickly, but after that she needed to take her time with herself. Instead of quickly going through the motions, she made sure every strand of hair was coated in shampoo and every inch of her body was lathered in body wash and given the same love and care at the end as she gave herself at the beginning. She kept her eyes closed. She kept breathing. Trying to think about nothing. She had a passing thought of Roy and how he used to bathe her when she was little and how she’d come home extremely intoxicated at six in the morning on a day during her undergrad program and he washed her face for her. She remembered, she smiled, she let it go. She took a few more deep breaths and finally got out of the shower. She felt so good, so clean, so calm, so peaceful. And then she saw her face again.

It had gotten worse, as bruises usually do. The cuts were healing fine, thanks to the butterfly bandages, but the bruises. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he’d socked her twice with his ring. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it besides wait. She took an anti-inflammatory for the swelling, her insomnia medication, brushed her teeth, and turned the light off before exiting the bathroom.

Her bed was closer to the bathroom, thank god. She turned down the covers to get into bed when she heard Spencer rustle and she froze.

He heard her stop moving, so he felt the need to reassure her, “I was just putting my book on the table, I’m not facing your direction.”

“Oh. Okay…” she continued getting into the bed, making sure to face away from him.

They both settled into bed. Him staring at the ceiling, her putting her headphones in (dangerous, she knew that, but even with her medication, she couldn’t sleep without noise), but before she started the music, she had one last thing to say.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

“Claudia.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need any clarification. In fact, he didn’t even need a thank you, he felt it was an honor and a privilege to help someone so steadfast and sure of themselves. She trusted him to see her like that. He felt like he should be thanking her, but instead, he settled for:

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

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serial-serializednovelreader · 3 months

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Nova’s Notes - North and South Weekly - Wk 1

So, today was the first entry of North and South and because of the Droughtula, I’m glad to have a beast of an entry to analyze! Also, as a note, I’m probably not going to quote as much of this, since there is so much of it — I’ll just refer to the part I’m talking about. One more thing: this is my first time reading this book. Feel free to share your responses, but no spoilers please! (I know this is a 100+ year-old book though, so I’ll probably filter tags)

Reading the first long paragraph, we can already get a glimpse of Margaret and Edith’s dynamic. They’re cousins and raised together from childhood and Edith is called pretty by all — except Margaret. But now, Margaret is starting to see her better qualities, since Edith is about to leave her and get married and Margaret is going home to live with her father.

What does that tell me? They may not be on the best of terms (at least on Margaret’s side), but even so, Margaret can’t help but feel sad at the upcoming “loss” of her cousin. There’s more evidence to support this: in later paragraphs, she’s referred to as “spoiled” and weak-willed, though it’s unclear whether that’s Margaret’s opinion or Gaskell’s omniscient opinion (which I think is something to watch out for). Then again, she also refers to her as “dear” and observes that Edith would stay with her fiancé even if someone came along with more money and comfort (since she’s so spoiled). Needless to say, I think Margaret has some complicated feelings.

I believe Margaret sees her for what she is — as spoiled and a bit of a child (which we’ll get to later) — but she’s still her cousin and can only see her as more dear. I love that Gaskell writes about this feeling of idealizing a person more when you know they’re about to leave (moving, marriage, etc.) because, as someone’s who been through this, I can very much relate and I appreciate her writing about this. Even if you’re not on the best of terms, you find yourself missing their annoying mannerisms too (unless they’re like, super bad or something lol)!

Moving on, Margaret overhears her aunt — Mrs. Shaw — talking to her friends about Edith’s marriage and her own marriage. What’s interesting here is that her main concern was making sure a) Edith married someone within her age range (unlike her own marriage) and b) love is of the utmost importance. Obviously, this is something pretty common in today’s society — in fact, it’s encouraged — but I do wonder how this was taken when it was first published. Was the aunt seen as frivolous and privileged, or revolutionary and modern? I did some research and it turns out by the time this was published (1854), this was already a well-established belief. So I guess she was simply echoing what most of society was already thinking!

What does stand out to me is that the aunt does talk about the age difference in her own marriage being a “drawback”. I don’t think I need to discuss how our society views age-gap relationships today (let’s just say it’s a hot topic), but I do find it interesting how very relevant this conversation from Mrs. Shaw still resonates with me so many years later.

However, Gaskell doesn’t seem to hold Mrs. Shaw in the highest regard, either. She describes her as “considering herself a victim to an uncongenial marriage” and now that her husband is dead, tries to find something else to be anxious about. Furthermore, she only does things because someone else wants to (and complains about it) while “all the time she was in reality doing just what she liked”. While these aren’t the worst things ever, I wouldn’t call this a glowing character review either. I would almost compare this to Mr. Woodhouse from Jane Austen’s Emma, who bemoans every little illness and thing that befalls him when he is actually pretty healthy.

Not that she’s seen to be a horrible aunt or mother to Margaret or Edith — it’s pretty evident that she cares for both of them by the way she dotes on Edith and how she took Margaret in as a child (I’m not entirely sure why — I think it was to teach her how to be a lady?). I like that Gaskell is already showing a lot of different sides to these characters!

Margaret is asked to model Edith’s wedding shawls, since she is currently down for a nap. She goes up to the nursery and reflects on when she first came to this house as a child. She was considered a wild thing — playing in the forest and all that. On the first night there, her new nurse already seemed intimidating and the nursery itself more akin to a prison. Poor little Margaret began to cry, but the nurse demands her to stop so as to not “disturb Miss Edith”. Then, she was all the quieter when her father and aunt went to check on her later, since she felt bad for being upset. I can well imagine a child of nine fostering a bit of resentment for her cousin after an introduction like that — not a big one, because I don’t think she’s that kind of character, but just a little one. How would you feel if you were thrust into an unwelcoming environment and told your emotions were a problem? It’s not Edith’s fault, but it’s not Margaret’s either. The upside is their relationship remarkably improved after that and she can look upon the nursery with fondness.

Honestly it gives me the same vibes as Charlotte Brontë’s Villete, which was published almost around the same time (though the roles are reversed in this case). At the beginning of the book, the protagonist, Lucy Snowe, is visiting her godmother but they have a new visitor: Polly. Tensions clash when they both have to stay in the nursery and Lucy sees Polly as a spoiled brat, while Polly sees Lucy as unfeeling and unkind to her. Obviously, not the same situation, but I think it’s a little peek into what this kind of dynamic is like!

Moving on, Margaret models the wedding shawls and they actually seem to fit her better than Edith (she has the height for it). The key point here is that “no one thought about it” though: they don’t seem to notice or appreciate Margaret’s beauty. While Gaskell remarks that Edith is known for her prettiness, the same attention does not seem to be applied to Margaret. I wonder if this will be a running theme? What I do appreciate is that when Margaret looks at herself in the mirror, she smiles and poses — she seems to know her own beauty and be somewhat self-confident, even if others don’t tell her. Or at least, she’s having fun dressing up like a princess, which is super cute and I love that for her!!! Why shouldn’t she have fun with this?

Enter Henry Lennox, Edith’s fiancé’s brother — a mouthful. He, understandably, causes a stir amongst everyone and even Edith wakes up from her nap as if she feels the vibes that her future in-law has arrived (to paraphrase the author, lol). While they ask him questions, a very interesting line pops up about Edith’s soon-to-be sister-in-law that I wanted to share and had to do some research on to figure out the meaning of:

“[Edith] had a multitude of questions to ask about dear Janet, the future, unseen sister-in-law, for whom she professed so much affection, that if Margaret had not been very proud she might have almost felt jealous of the mushroom rival…”

After googling what a mushroom rival was (because, what????), the consensus I found was that it means “an unimportant rival”. It was also a way to jab at the “nouveau riche” who found themselves in upper-class circles, but came from lower-class origins. I think ultimately what Gaskell is saying here is that Margaret sees her cousin’s sister-in-law as someone that may try to “steal” her cousin’s affections, but in the end there’s not much to worry about, since Margaret has established affection with Edith (almost like people with generational wealth) and Janet doesn’t have much to compete with because she is too new to Edith’s acquaintance (thus making her like the nouveau riche). Just my interpretation, though, please feel free to sound off in the comments!

Henry goes to sit next to Margaret after Edith’s questioning and Margaret seems very happy to seem him. Not shy at all! Their conversation is interesting. First he starts off with (kind of) mocking her and the ladies “playing with shawls” and how it’s “very different” compared to his “real true law business”. So yeah, not winning any points with me right off the bat, but let’s see where it goes, I guess? I mean, it could be just a joke, right?

He comments on how he’s noticed her doing all the hard work for the wedding and how he hopes she gets a break from that soon. She tries to deflect and mention Edith as also working hard, but he sticks by his assertion that she has been the one doing all the planning work for his brother and Edith’s wedding, which she can’t really deny. Even if she has not done all the work (I imagine Mrs. Shaw has taken up some of the heavy-lifting), it seems that the emotional toil of all the planning is what has made an impact on Margaret.

She wonders if a wedding must always be this way and even suggests that she would like her wedding to be more calm without all of the extra fluff Edith’s has (a bit of a controversial topic in those days I think — in my research I found that Victorian marriages were modeled after Queen Victoria’s ceremony, which included many traditions we still see today). That leads to this passage:

“‘The idea of stately simplicity accords well with your character.’

Margaret did not quite like this speech; she winced away from it more, from remembering former occasions on which he had tried to lead her into a discussion (in which [Henry] took the complimentary part) about her own character and ways of going on. She cut the speech short…”

I find this interesting — that Henry being complimentary is inherently distasteful to her and she immediately turns him away from it. I’m not sure if it’s because a) his compliments suck (who calls someone’s character simplistic — I don’t think that’s the compliment you think it is buddy) b) that’s her future relative-in-law and she thinks it’s weird for him to compliment her or c) she’s just not good at taking compliments in general. I’m actually not sure which it is — I need to see more of her character — but I do know the conversation does not improve from here on out.

She makes a rebuttal to his compliment by saying she is only thinking of her home in Helstone and it’s not a character trait. He tries to get her to talk more about it, but she will not be drawn in. At least not completely. She converses, but also gets quickly annoyed with him. You kind of have to read along to get what I mean, but their conversation is like two steps forward and one back.

Finally, he says, “You are rather severe to-night, Margaret.” And she seems kind of surprised by this because she didn’t realize she was being “severe”: she genuinely could not describe her home as he wants her to. Her justification is basically you can only understand it if you’ve been there, which she did kind of say before this point.

Don’t get me wrong: I love a good banter session, but this one just feels different in a negative way. I also feel like this back-and-forth banter is a set-up. This is how Margaret interacts with the people around her now, because they don’t seem to quite understand her. They think she’s being “uncooperative” or difficult — I don’t think she is. Or perhaps she is, but it’s also Henry’s fault for not changing the subject when she made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about her home and couldn’t describe it!!! I believe her change of scene will help her find people who do get her and maybe she will have a similar form of banter, but this time it will be different and she will be understood. That’s just my speculation, though!

He continues to talk to her, but they hit a roadblock yet again because he asks her “what she does to occupy herself in the country” and when she doesn’t have a good answer, goes to the point of saying:

“I see, you won’t tell me anything. You will only tell me that you are not going to do this and that. Before the vacation ends, I think I shall pay you a call, and see what you really do employ yourself in.”

Idk if someone told me this, even jokingly, I would not like it. This would be my response:

Like why does he need to know her every move?!?!?! I just feel like he’s not asking the right questions and he definitely seems to be making light of her “quaint” living (which I think she’s playing into just so he’ll leave her be). The problem is, he’s just filling in the blanks for her by describing what she does in her current home and then asks “oh so what will you do at Helstone? Archery, parties? Oh, you’re too poor for that? I see you won’t tell me anything.” He sounds exhausting to talk to!!!! Just be a good listener!!!!! Maybe that’s just me and I’m reading too much into it though. I don’t know how much we’ll see of him since he probably won’t be living where Margaret is going, but I honestly hope it’s not much. Or maybe I do — I want to know why he is this way, I’m nosey. 😂😂😂😂

Honestly, it kind of feels like when a neurotypical person and neurodivergent person have a conversation and it just…doesn’t go that well because both people have a different way of communicating and its frustrating for both sides. I know I’m being hard on Henry and whether he deserves that or not is up for debate (I’ll wait for final judgement), but it could just be a case of that. I’m also not saying people of different neurotypes can’t have a satisfying conversation — they definitely can — but it takes understanding from both sides and I do feel like both sides here are not trying to understand the other’s perspective. Just like I could be misunderstanding this whole conversation, I really don’t know!

Also, I’m pretty sure Henry is romantically interested in Margaret, but I don’t know if she returns the feeling. While she was initially was happy to seem him, she seems more annoyed by his conversation than happy (never a good sign). If he is flirting, I think it needs some workshopping because…uh…that ain’t it, pal.

I also notice that when Henry takes his leave, he remarks that “besides, Aunt Shaw won’t like us to talk.” Ok…what does THAT mean???? That nugget of lore is fascinating, but hard to glean much from. Is it because their conversations are always like this and Mrs. Shaw is just tired of hearing the back-and-forth? *Or* is part of the reason they have back-and-forth like this BECAUSE of Mrs. Shaw? Hopefully I’ll find out!

Enter Edith’s fiancé and that’s when the real stir begins! Edith is so excited she runs out of the room just to walk in with him (we love a dramatic entrance lol). We get the chance to observe both brothers while they observe Edith and Margaret in turn. Compared to the captain (and the whole family) it seems that Henry is the “plain one”, but on the whole seems “intelligent” and “keen”. But his interest in watching both women seems to be “slightly sarcastic” — which, what does mean?????? Henry, you’re so confusing!!!!!

Edith decides to show off how good she is at being a soldier’s wife by doing everything herself! Can you guess how well that goes? Yeah, she immediately can’t carry the tea-kettle because it’s too heavy for her and it gets all over her dress. She shows this to her fiancé “like a hurt child” and her fiancé either hugs her or does a relatable “kiss it better” thing — lol (shoutout to a special user in the comments section for helping me figure out what “the remedy was the same in both cases” meant :D). The chapter mostly ends with discussing how they made the tea and then “all was bustle until the wedding was over.”

I think it’s interesting that we don’t get a clear picture of the aforementioned fiancé — now husband. The only thing I can really mention is that he’s obviously affectionate with Edith and seems to humor her childish moods.

As for Margaret, I avoided talking too much about her character, specifically because I think we get it through the way she interacts with others. This is already long so I’ll make a quick list of what I think we can glean from her character so far, in no particular order:

Reflective

Understanding — for the most part (not with Henry)

Playful (to herself)

Doesn’t like too much attention

Determined

Not afraid of conflict

Speaks her mind

Loves her home

Loves her family, but knows their faults

Values tranquility

Helpful

Observant

Self-confident

I think that’s it! I’m excited to read more and hope you enjoyed my ramblings :)

#whew that was a lot #long post #north and south #north and south weekly #novas notes

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ijustwantogethigh · 2 months

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good evening, a request please, from apollo x reader poseidon (the reader is percy's half-sister, she arrived at the camp at the same time as him) the reader danced with the nayades in the river while apollo

He fell in love when he saw her dance (like Poseidon with Host), or when I can write you, there is no pressure or anything, I apologize if it is not understood, I use a translator

HEY ANON! thank you for requesting, I tried, but it was a long time ago since I read a Percy Jackson's book,so it took time bc I re-read the book to be more accurate it's a little OOC, I hope you don't mind,and i put more things to not make it too short so I love u for using the translator thank you!

Poseidon!Daughter reader x Apollo

dam jokes..A lot, Percy's nickname for reader is blobfish, she is 16 and Apollo..Yeah more than 15000 /it's Apollo not Lester my friend/ Apollo nicknames y/n as ASTERI that's star in Greek♥

Sunrise 𝓐pogeum.

It's been two weeks since the Manhattan war ended, and everything was fine, campier doing his chores, some others packing for the next summer ready to go home, he was standing next to Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the new Oracle, now he was complaining her to rest in the spare room in the big house, Rachel was pretty.

but not pretty as y/n, the gorgeous Demigod alive, if she wasn't a Poseidon child, will mistake her as a Aphrodite Daughter, her hair shine with the sun, her brownish-tanned skin, Kissed by the sun, her melodious voice!, he was so down for her, but she still was a demigod, and gods and demigods did not mix together but it is not like Apollo cares right?…right?.

Rachel was resting now, he come back outside, walking through it was the camp, when he saw her, again, the first time both meet, was during the war, she was undoubtedly angry, her hands bloody, and even a big cut in the side of her cheek probably will left a scar, she didn't take care of it, she fought side-to-side with him.

but she didn't even notice, now she was dancing dancing with a group of nayades in the lake, he felt so odd, she moved like swan, she was obviously wet, a beautiful girl,he felt like enchanting her to make her his wife, make her an immortal demigod, he was in love from a demigoddess, the Nayades feeling his predatory gaze against the girl, covers her, and the god leaves, not seeing his girl anymore, he gets bored.

Monday!

But he didn't let it die until this day, he left a poem for her, stick in the back of a mirror, with little seashells on the edge of it, and it was blue.

''In golden rays where shadows play, A sunlit heart beats bold and Bright, He casts his warmth upon the shore, While waves embrace their ancient lore. A daughter of the ocean's grace, With laughter bright, she weaves her space, Her spirit dances in a sea-like swirl, Unknowing of the sun that longs to twirl. He paints the sky with hues of fire, While she swims deep, lost in desire, The tides of dreams pull her away, From the warmth of love that seeks to stay. With every dawn, he rises high, A silent wish, a longing sigh, While she, beneath the azure dome, Knows not the heart that calls her home. In realms of water, air, and light, Two worlds apart, yet spark ignites, For in their depths, a tale unfolds, Of sun and sea, a love untold''

-The mirror is for you, so you can look how pretty you are, and to remind you that with no sun, it's not fun to go to the beach princess. att: 𝓐.

She smirked looking herself in the mirror expecting something, he saw through the distance, well hided, she looked both sides, expecting the stoll brothers to tell her is a weird prank.

but the smirk morphed into a frown, she didn't like those jokes, they were mocking about her appearance? How down!. Until Percy, comes out saying

''why is the door open, close it, I hate those dam fly's!''

''are you just worried about the fly's?''

'' They are mocking about me and you care about dam fly's?''

she says, holding the mirror in her hands, closing the door, keeping the mirror and the beautiful poem.

Does she just miss pretended everything? She was definitely Percy's half sister.

Tuesday?

Through the night, he left a little box with chocolates and cookies with seashell figure, and left a Puka shell necklace with a little sun charm, he was being obvious at this point and he left.

the beginning morning he was talking with helios, helios was kind of angry of seeing the god trying to get a demigoddess,

''hey no, I'm just trying to get her attention, I'll ask her when she is 18''

and the sun god just look bad at him, and he saw her, looking a bit sleepy, face swollen, she tripped with the box, Apollo was dying from anxiety, she picked the blue box up revealing the contend from it.

very pretty and must be delicious cookies and chocolates, WITH SEASHELL FIGURES! She ran inside, waking up Percy, to look at the present his secret admirer sent her

'look! IT'S A DAM DOLPHIN!''

''Blobfish…shut Up.. It's dam 9 o'clock..haha..A dolphin''

-he says sleepy, taking one from the box, eating it sleepy due the hour, he was just not a morning person.

'like..He or she is calling me skinny? Okay that's a big ouch''

The god only pushed his hands into his mouth to not scream from frustration, his princess just didn't understand.

Wednesday…

He was just stressed, this weekend his princess probably is leaving to go back home with her mom this time, he left a bracelet beads kit, and there's was a bracelet made up ''Asteri'' was in the blue, white and yellow beads, she smiled, feeling like a little kid, her mom used to bought her those for Christmas, until she ate one…whatever, And there's was another note.

'aye Asteri, I'm saying the truth, I'll never be mean to some one I love, do not miss pretend everything I do to love you'' att: 𝓐

she felt like faithing,, then it was a guy!, one who was too shy to ask her out, she smiled, and backed up to her cabin to show Percy the new thingy his 'secret boyfriend'' how Percy baptized him, get her.

'so, a Bracelet kit? How old are you, 6?'' ''tf you mean 6? Annie gifted you a sea creature coloring book..'' ''IT'S DIFFERENT, IT'S FOR COLORING!'' ''AND THIS IS FOR FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS! You ain't getting one'' ''Ain't letting you color in ma' book''

Thursday.

He got tired of letting his gifts in the morning, not a morning person either, and this time, she saw her, a little sad. Maybe he influenced her? ''why are you sad y/n?''

ooh OH! Her secret boyfriend didn't appear this morning..So she feels sad, even though she told me she didn't want a boyfrien-'' but she shut him until he finished.

'shut up, if he is a camper he could feel bad and,,uh no, it's not that'' she says, giving her new friendship bracelet to Annabeth.

''Secret boyfriend, what in the world is that?''

she says, whispering thank you, every person that was percy's friend got a friendship bracelet, even nico had one, and Grover, but no Percy.

'like a guy that is not his boyfriend but wants to be, all week has sended her gifts and today no'' he says, coloring in his book while talking, mocking his sisters disgrace.

'maybe yeah, he told me he would never hurt someone he loves, and why disappear in the middle of something!''

''You have the heart of a chicken'' he looked at her, with a serious expression.

And she gasped in horror.

Annabeth, with the Poseidon's kids, walked to the cabin,y/n just wanted Annabeth to see the disaster of cabin Percy had.

until in the stairs of the cabin, a glass box rested covered in some leaves, with …blue Cinnamon rolls?, she screamed like she saw someone eating caviar /it's actually an anecdote/ Annabeth was giggling and fangirling with Y/n.

'HE CAME OMG HE LOVES ME!'' ''YEAH.. Um? HE DOES!'' ''WHY THEY LOOK MUCH MORE EDIBLE WHEN ARE BLUE?!''

Percy screamed to gain the attention. And a new note was attached to the glassbox.

'sorry for making you wait for Asteri, I woke up late, I hope you and your brother like them. Did you think I wouldn't find out if you shared them? Take care Asteri'' att. 𝓐

She screamed, entering again, to share those very delicious Cinnamon rolls with her friends, Apollo, through the dusk of the sun that got from the windows, saw her putting the note, with the other things he had gifted her, it was mere luck she had liked them, it's not like he was giving her random stuff, those are things she liked when she was younger.

Friday

Today she was alone, this time he didn't appear. She gave him time, but he never showed up with a last gift.

She cutted one of the flowers,Percy and Annie give her like a goodbye, putting it in her hair, and, with all her things packed, she was on the lake, looking it, very very sad, it was more like nostalgia.

she was going home, but most of her friends weren't gonna be there, even if Percy told he they can always do Iris call's with Annie, she didn't want to interrupt those calls with his girlfriend.

Leo was staying in the camp,and pipes too. She felt so good, but at the same time sad, the winter was going to last too much, and the summer went like river water. Maybe she was just 16 to think like that, but she was just a girl.

It was dusk, the time when the sun is going down and the sky looks orange, she sigh, when getting up, until a bright like blinded her, in the water was a very, handsome man, golden hair, tanned skin and..Wet clothes, walked towards the water, she wasn't dumb-

'Apollo..?' why are you here?'' Elizabeth was the first to leave before the Manhattan war to his college, she was confused. 'II came for you *my 𝓐steri'' he pronounced, with a big bright smile, giving her a bouquet of sunflowers. She was confused, but more shocked, she grabbed the bouquet, looking at the most pretty sunflowers. ''y-you? You are,,'' she stuttered the words, her throat felt dry, and she got stiff from the panic. ''yes my Asteri, I am the one who has gifted you everything, now I have the brave to show up to you'' ''what I'm supposed to do I-'' ''you do not have to do something, just..Let me be with you, protect you'' ''i know this kind of thing, I can't be with you,, I'm so sorry'' 'don't be, I'm the fool who fell first, but please, let me be at your side..Please, to the time you'd have go, there's no sun, so I'm here to guide you, tomorrow in the morning we leave from here''

He was talking about guiding me to my home? What kind of deal was this? I nodded, and we both just talked in front of the lake, sitting making eachother company.

BONUS

''WOAH you meet him in person?! HE BRIGHTS IN THE DARK?!'' a little golden-brunette haired boy screamed.

''yes, but he is strong too, he used to gift me sunflowers''

''why daddy didn't get mad?''

''well, it's you daddy who gifted me the sunflowers my love''

The kid didn't catch it at first, but he kept eating his blue cinnamon rolls, while both were watching the TV, the sun was coming through its windows, the dusk had already begun.

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #apollo #apollo x reader #fem reader #pjo #oceaniiaistalking #character x reader #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #anabeth chase #i'am so proud of this

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