#so I rolled my legging up and saw a bunch of blood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

januaryembrs · 5 months

Text

SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [6]

description: the ONE where you help him grieve another woman + the ONE with the promise

length: 8.04k

warnings: maeves death. grief. Spencer is a sad bby. HOWEVER maybe perhaps some fluff? healing journey! gun, blood, usual cm warnings.

author's note. HERE YOU GO POOKIES. I hope you enjoy now I've put you all out of your misery.

previous chpt | next chpt | series masterlist

'Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry,

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?'

The one where you help him grieve another woman.

It killed her walking up those stairs every day. She knew the gift baskets were piling up, had already had a terse conversation with his neighbour about leaving ‘clutter’ in the hallway, to which she thinks she might have swung at the eighty year old woman if she didn’t think it would cause Spencer problems.

He had enough on his plate already. Maeve had died, for fuck sake.

In fact, she almost entirely blew her top when she made it to the top of the steps to see every single one of Garcia’s gift baskets had been moved, the bunches of tulips she’d brought him every other day over the past two weeks gone with little trace other than browning petals scattering his door mat. Even the cookies JJ had baked him, the card Henry had drawn for his uncle Spencer had been moved.

Bugsy stopped for a second, her head snapping to the door to the right where his neighbour, Miss Cavanaugh, had shuffled out of her apartment in her pink dressing gown, her grey, wispy curls flat against her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed.

She blinked at the younger girl through thick, bubble-like glasses, her blue eyes annoyed the minute she saw her standing there.

“You can’t just take people's things, you know, I don’t care if it got in the way of your daily walk, Miriam, those were for Spencer-” Bugsy started, her voice as calm as she could get it even though her scowl spoke for itself.

“I didn’t touch any of his crap, little lady,” Miriam raised her mottled hand, crooked fingers shushing the outrage Bug had been ready to bark at her, and the women sighed when they realised they might just have another argument like their last one, “Kid was poking around at like six in the morning taking it all in, nearly woke up my dog,”

Bugsy rolled her eyes, “God forbid,” Miriam flipped her the finger which made Bugsy’s jaw drop wide open, shuffling back into her apartment muttering to herself, her mail in her mangled hands, “Old bag,” Bug murmured to herself, but her eyes quickly locked back onto Spencer’s door.

He had been out. Well, he had been into his hallway, but it was something.

Her legs felt like jelly when she took hesitant steps towards his doorway, her knuckles gently rapping on the wood, a frog crawling into her throat that she tried clearing with a cough.

“Spencer?” Her voice was soft, melodic, and it made him wince where he sat against the other side of his entrance, his own hair a state of disarray, “It’s me,”

Of course he knew it was her. He didn’t think a day could ever go by where he wouldn’t know her by the sound of her steps alone. Like he’d grown a sixth sense for these sorts of things, like they were linked by some weird Spidey powers like in the comics she’d brought over to his apartment and begged him to read, because even though he could devour a million words a minute (her words not his) it was the art in it she loved and that forced him to slow down and enjoy the pages.

He wanted to tell her to go away, but he couldn’t find it in him to ever be so cruel, to dig himself a bigger trench of regret than he already felt. He couldn’t save Maeve, physically could never get the image of her dying from his ginormous, genius brain that held onto every detail, and on top of it, he knew he deserved none of the kindness Bugsy showered him with. He’d heard her come stand outside his door every single morning, heard her knocking with the same worried call of his name at the same time before breakfast. He heard her sigh after ten or so minutes and leave, her retreating footsteps clunking down the stairs sadly.

She was too good for him. He’d only solidified it that she was so beyond what he deserved, that he could never treat her the way she deserved to be treated, the same way he hadn’t with Maeve.

Spencer’s self loathing was a poison, slowly devouring him every time he heard her voice, felt her approach through the floorboards, when he’d seen the little notes she’d left on the books she’d dropped off outside his door. Usually they were her reviews on them, a list of pros and cons, her general musings, all things they would have chatted over a bagel if things had been normal between them. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together the way they had like clockwork since she joined the BAU. That was a lie. He could remember, of course he could, it had been four months, three weeks and five days ago, a Monday. He thinks she knocked around 10am. Something like that.

It was the day before she’d flown to London, actually. She had dropped the boys (the boys being Niko and Sergio) off to his apartment, thanked him a bunch of times for looking after them, given him five months worth of cat litter and kibbles and immediately unwrapped a to-go bag of their favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. He remembered it was close to October because she’d bought over maple buns and they only sold at the beginning of Autumn, and he’d asked if she’d be doing anything for Halloween seeing as their usual plans of a horror movie marathon were being put on pause while she was in England. She wasn’t, and she’d asked to call him instead so they could discuss their favourite trick or treating outfits they’d seen.

He’d promised her a call, only another case popped up by the time the thirty-first rolled around, and it had never happened.

Spencer hated how he was able to remember every detail of her face the day she’d left, the warmth of her hug he’d clung onto for months. He hated that day she’d surprised him and he hadn’t even thought to wrap his arms around her because he’d been so stuck feeling the overwhelming shock of seeing her. He hated that he’d made her frown like that, that she had ever doubted that he wanted to see her. But it had felt like he’d been caught cheating, why had it felt like cheating?

He knew why. He knew why seeing her when he was going out to call Maeve had felt like he was double-crossing her.

Not that it mattered anymore, he thought bitterly. Because Maeve was dead. And Bugsy had every right to hate him. But she didn’t. Because she was too good.

He hated himself more than he’d ever thought was possible.

He heard her sigh, but she didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she leave. Instead, he felt the door rattle behind his own spine as she slumped against the wood, sliding to the floor until she unknowingly leaned against him, little more than a few centimetres from his warmth.

He heard her pull out something from her bag, and the tell tale slip of paper over paper told him she’d brought a book with her, pre-empting staying longer this time. Spencer wanted to tell her not to bother, because if he got brave enough to open the door to her and see her face, smell her clothes, feel the softness of her hugs, he thinks if he told her every thought bouncing around that aching skull of his, it would all come crashing down around him, and he wouldn’t ever be able to stop telling her how sorry he was. For all of it. For letting her pull away from him when she was grieving. For letting her kiss him that night Derek brought her over, because it was obvious she wanted to forget the whole thing. For pushing her away when she came back from London. For being rude and cold when she wanted answers. For trying desperately to completely detach himself from her, which had only ever made him want to scream in frustration because it hadn’t worked anyway.

Maeve had died because of him, an innocent woman he’d seen himself falling for if they’d been given the chance had died, and he was still head over heels in terrible, stupid love with Bugsy.

They stayed there, her reading and him aching from the inside out, for about seven minutes before her phone rang. He heard her huff, letting it go to answer phone and settling back down with her novel. That is, until her dial tone sprung back to life and she half growled under her breath, assuming she pressed the answer button, and he heard her voice again.

“Hello?” She said, the slight annoyance bleeding into her words, and Spencer already knew that duty was calling by the way her book thumped to the floor and he could just picture her rubbing over her temple in frustration. “I have an appointment, Hotch, I can be there in a couple hours,” Silence, where he guessed Hotch was chiding her on her tardiness, “No, I know I’m supposed to book these things off- it’s just- it’s a contraceptive implant removal, yeah I really busted my IUD when I broke my arm, it’s not settled since,” Spencer almost smiled on instinct, almost, though he thought even if he did it would look like a bitter grimace because he’d not moved his face in over ten days. But she was a really good liar, and he’d always found that part of her charm. She huffed again, “God, you sound like Emily, yes I’m being safe- we are not having this conversation, Aaron, I’ll get there when I get there,”

With that, perhaps the only person who would ever be allowed to slam the phone down on Aaron Hotchner in a huff did, and they were left alone in silence again.

“You shouldn’t ignore their calls for my sake,” He found his voice, even if it was groggy with misuse. He felt her straighten against the wooden door, her shock palpable through the brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for just a second too long, as if she was scrambling not to say something else than what came out.

“Pot, meet kettle,” She murmured back, loud enough he could hear it, and she felt him shuffle behind the door, wanting to smack herself in the face for not feeling him there sooner.

“New case?” He asked, his eyes heavy, his pyjamas days old. He knew he needed to shower, but the minute he’d walked into his apartment everything had felt pointless.

“Yup.” She breathed in, her shoes brushing against his welcome mat with a scratch as she pulled her knees up to her chest, “Although I think Hotch will stick to Penelope making the calls after today,”

Something between a scoff and a sigh came from his throat, something she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“What is it?” He replied, and she remained quiet for a second, picking the skin around her nails.

“I’ll tell you if you open the door,” She bartered, wondering for a second if she’d gone too far and had pushed him back into the hole she was coaxing him out of.

“Blackmail,” Spencer said, all emotion gone from his voice, and Bugsy winced, “A little on the nose for someone who’s grieving,”

But she could sense it. The way his syllable raised on the last word, that he was being cynical, not cruel like she’d worried.

“Think of it as a trade deal,” She humoured him, though she kept her voice soft so he knew she meant no harm, just to cheer him up if it was even possible, “You get your answer, and I get to give you this incredibly boring book that I know you can devour in a half hour and give me the summarised version,”

He smiled. Weakly, and only for a brief few seconds, because if there was anything that warmed him up from the cold, dark, nothingness place he’d found himself in it was her.

He wished he could dislike the fact she did it so easily, wish he could dislike how simple it was to like her, to feel himself wanting her even in that nothingness place he was crawling through as a lone ranger. He wanted to pull her into him tightly, wanted to let her fuss over him, to apologise until his voice ran even more hoarse, but he couldn’t. He feared if he touched her, she’d be marked for death right then and then; that he’d taint her somehow. And that he could never do.

Yet, he bent to her will. He stood up, prompting her to do the same, leaving his door on the latch as he pulled it open a crack, enough for her to jimmy the book through, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy.

He had read Tolstoy before, of course he had. War and Peace was one of the first books he ever owned in Russian, ironically enough one that he’d read only a few days before they’d driven to Baltimore and he’d met Bugsy for the first time. Yet it was this one she’d given him of all of Tolstoy’s works; the one where the protagonist goes on a journey of acceptance that he’s dying with no explanation as to why.

He thought she might just be the only person who knew how to crawl into the mess of his brain and find something familiar in there. Because this was the same book he’d read when Emily had died.

He would never tell her he already owned it, however. Nor would he call her out for the fact she most certainly didn’t find it boring considering she was so far into it with annotations already scribbled in the margins. He just took it with a lump in his throat, his eyes burning with the idea she was so incredibly her that it felt like he had no option but to drown in it.

“Body’s been found in San Francisco,” She said gently, and he knew she wished he would open the door fully so she could at least see him. Yet he kept the door on the latch. Because if there wasn’t a barrier between them, he wasn’t sure how else he would keep it all in, “You get to know more when you finish the book,”

He sighed, holding the book tight to his chest, and they stood there for a second, the air turning stifling as they both held back a million words behind brave faces, “Will you be gone long?”

“No, only a few days, I hope,” She replied, zipping her bag up and slinging it on her back judging by the sounds coming from her side of the door. She hovered, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but wanting to stay here on his welcome mat because this was the closest they'd been physically and otherwise in months.

“Be safe,” He murmured, and her hand shot through the gap in the doorway, her pinky finger raised to the heavens.

“Promise,” Bugsy said, her heart jack hammering against her ribcage when a long, warm finger wrapped around hers, and they squeezed them together. It was just a little touch, but it was a start. She wished he would open the door so she could beg him to talk to her, even if it meant crawling to her knees, she wasn’t above it whatsoever.

Reluctantly, she let him go, though she noted the way he had held onto her until she did so.

“I have to go,” She said sadly, drawing her hand to her chest like she’d received a Midas touch, and her hand was suddenly valuable after gracing his own.

Her skin felt electric, her breaths felt laboured. She wanted more, but she couldn’t have it.

And with that, it took every ounce of resolve to turn on her heels and head back down to her car.

–

Bugsy stared at the artwork with a grimace, picking hard at her cuticles because the metallic smell was making her stomach turn. Their UnSub had taken to painting with his victims’ blood, canvasses upon canvasses of leeched ichor brushed out to make out an image of the bodies.

Her nose scrunched when another wave of hot, iron wafted up her nose, and she thought about asking Hotch if she could step outside for a moment, knowing he likely wouldn’t question her perhaps ever again after their little phone call.

“What other reasons would he have for separating plasma from the blood?” Hotch asked, and her brow furrowed, her mouth opening to speak before another voice cut her off.

“It’s a habit,”

She swore she gave herself whiplash with how fast her head snapped to the side. She would know his voice anywhere. It sounded lost and desolate, yes, but her eyes swirled with relief when she saw him standing there, looking skittish and tired but alive.

“Reid,” Morgan breathed, the same level of surprise she felt as JJ darted towards him, her arms wrapping around his middle before he could protest.

“Spence,” She said, and they hugged one another tightly, his eyes following over Jennifer’s shoulder to where Bugsy seemed to watch him unsurely, like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, how to make it better, how to fix it. A girl who had always been so sure of herself now reduced to pining from afar for answers.

“I didn’t expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?” Hotch asked, an almost identical look of hesitance on his face as Bugsy had on hers, and it was no wonder half of the department said they were two sides of the same coin.

“No but I think I figured something out,” He breathed, moving out of JJ’s embrace towards the boards where the victim profiles were, and he began speaking in that slow, cold tone he’d taken on.

Spencer, to no one's surprise, was able to all but fit their disjointed puzzle pieces together in the space of an hour's flight, and with just a few pointers in Garcia’s direction, they’d got their UnSub.

“And bingo was his name-o, actually his name is Bryan Hughes, he is an AB positive haemophiliac who works as a janitor at the Bay Area Museum of Art. And before you ask, yes his address has been sent to your phones.” Penelope rushed, pinging the information to their phones just as fast as it had appeared on her screen.

“You’re the best baby girl,” Morgan said into the speaker, hanging up the phone as the team stood from their place at the desk, Hotch assigning them tasks as everyone strapped on their kevlars and guns.

She held back for a moment, her eyes assessing him like man approaching a wounded wolf.

“I’m okay-” He was about to say, because he knew what she was going to ask before she thought to do it, except she simply nodded at him, turning on her heel to follow the others, despite him expecting something more Bugsy-like.

It wasn’t like her to leave him without some final word, some final stand, and he was right. Because no sooner had she gotten all of three paces, she whirled back around, heading back towards him with a timid expression, and she all but launched herself into his arms.

He held her tight, the warmth of her body making his eyes well up, because if there was anything that could have made him crack his resolve, it was her touch alone.

She carded her fingrs through his hair, tucking her face into his neck and breathing in deeply.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” She murmured, stopping herself from saying anymore as she released him, well aware of the fact he had tried squeezing her tighter before she’d had to let him go, like he hadn’t wanted her to go. But neither did she.

“Stay safe,” He said on instinct, and she nodded, her eyes trailing over his empty eyes and sallow skin.

She wanted to kiss away every trace of sadness there, but she couldn’t. Wanted to wrap him into a hug so tight she might just stop breathing, but it would have been worth it. Wanted to tuck him into bed and stroke his hair and feed him tea and chocolate and make sure he was kept well, because she’d do anything to make him better.

But she couldn’t. They had a case.

It took every scrap of resolve to let go of Spencer Reid, sheepish and mourning, and leave him in that room alone.

–

She sighed, scrubbing at the back of her hand with the shitty aeroplane soap they had on the jet, the tiny basin doing nothing to help the fact she was all but peeling off the top layer of her epidermis.

Catching Bryan had been messy; he had come at her with a scalpel, she had shot, his blood had sprayed over her arms, soaking right through. Spencer had all but gone white when she’d gotten to the runway, hoping to make it back to Quantico by midnight.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He fretted, despite the fact it was the closest he'd come in weeks to an emotion that wasn't sadness, and he stood little more than a few centimetres away, his fingers twined together, wanting to check her over himself.

She waved him off, “It’s not mine. I’m going to wash up on the plane, don’t worry,” She replied, her expression exhausted, twitching on the spot to stop herself pushing his hair behind his ear. She knew he’d washed it because it looked particularly fluffy, the way it always did when he hadn’t bothered to style it before he left the house, “Are you okay?”

He nodded wordlessly, and took her mini suitcase from her side, wheeling it along the tarmac for her, his face a worried scowl as they boarded the jet.

She thanked him as she stepped past him putting it in the overhead luggage, heading straight for the toilets to wash up, Morgan and JJ ducking out of the way when they saw Carrie 2.0 passing by them.

It wasn’t until they were already in the air did she emerge, her change of clothes on her skin that had been rubbed raw, her uniform in a biohazard bag that she swiftly dumped at the back of the jet to keep it out of sight. She threw herself down on the nearest seat, her entire body aching from the long few days, but she didn’t miss the hazel eyes that bore into the side of her head to her right.

She turned to meet their gaze, even though she already knew who it was before she’d even looked. Spencer looked like he was caught between about five different sentences to start with, his eyes trailing down her arms and to her hands that were now squeaky clean.

“You sure you’re okay?” He murmured, and she flipped her palms over for him to see for himself. No cuts. No abrasions. Except her usually marred cuticles she’d been picking at all day.

“Pinkie promised, didn’t I?” She teased, but no humour met his face. He just looked back at her, like he didn’t quite believe her still, like she was a ghost where his best friend should be sat, or a trick of the light. She turned her knees towards him, her sleepy eyes buttery and genuine, as if she was trying to make herself as relaxed as possible, just so he would stop worrying, “Spencer, I’m fine. Didn’t even knick me,”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking down to his satchel bag where he played with the buckle, the brown leather cold in between his fingers, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird and distant and ignoring you- I just…”

“Spencer,” She tried to interject with a honeyed voice, but he shook his head, a crease forming between his brows when he heard her say his name like that.

“I just worry I’m letting everyone down, but when I saw you covered in blood-” He gulped, willing his eyes not to burn up again with unshed tears.

“Spence, it’s okay,” She cooed, shuffling closer to him in her seat, her hand migrating to his knee, because she didn’t know if he’d want to touch her after she’d had someone else's blood all over her hand. She liked her chances, yet the last thing she wanted was to push him. “No one’s expecting you to go back to normal, I just want to know you’re safe. I owe you as much, I mean you looked after me when Emily was gone,”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bug,” He shook his head again, his brows furrowing and she was quick to correct herself, “Besides, I loved living with you,” He rested his palm over her hand and gave her what he hoped looked like a small smile.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Spence,” She said, flipping her hand over to squeeze his fingers gently, “Did you not think I loved living with you too? I just want to take care of you for me,”

He looked at her, her eyes hopeful as she roved over his clean clothes, his freshly washed hair, his satchel he’d kept tight in his lap, as if checking him over for bruises despite the fact he hadn’t been in the field. The crushing weight over his chest like a fallen log seemed to shift, and with it, her hand soothed the wound, her smile dried his eyes, her warmth engulfed his very core in a blanket.

Spencer knew he was going to be okay if it was him and her. He knew the world was livable again if she was fighting in his corner. But then, when hadn’t she been?

Sensing his ease in attitude, or perhaps she just knew his eyes so well to notice the way they seemed to carry less burden as soon as she’d spoken, she leaned back in her seat, “Besides, the boys miss you. They said you gave them more treats than I do and Niko appreciated you brushing his fur for him,”

He smiled over at her bashfully, his head dropping down to lean on her shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his head.

“Well, if the boys miss me, I guess I have no choice,” He murmured, his eyes heavy the second he rested against her, like she’d sprayed a sedative over him, and he couldn’t help think that her new perfume wasn’t nearly as them as her old one had been. Not that he disliked this one, just that the other one reminded him of morning breakfasts, and movie marathons, and nights when they would bake apple cake at twelve in the morning because she made it how he liked it to a tea.

She chuckled, and it sounded like a hum in his ear, as he curled up to her side, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land and I’ll drive us home,”

And it didn’t take much for him to do so, even if something had been right on the tip of his tongue; his apartment had only felt like home when she said it like that.

+1. The one with the promise.

He’d had that dream again.

It had been four months since Maeve died, but he’s had that dream again.

He’d start out in a restaurant, the walls lined top to toe with books, the chandelier the perfect amount of dust that it had character but not tackiness. A waiter would bring him over a menu and an iced tea, his favourite. He’d go to look up to ask why he’d been sat at a restaurant he had no recollection of getting to, and he’d see her staring back at him.

Maeve. Looking healthy and happy, like he hadn’t watched her brains sprayed across that warehouse floor.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” She would say, a glass of some kind of white wine swirling in her hand, her teeth straight and white and pretty when she smiled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you,” He’d say, though he couldn’t feel his mouth moving, he just knew it had come from him. “Where are we?”

“You promised me a date, so this is it,” Maeve said, a glint in her blue eyes, “First and the last. Let’s make it count,”

His heart would give a jump then, because he’d remember this was the only time he’d ever get to see her. He’d remember that she was dead, that he had never seen her in person like this until the day she’d died.

He’d open his mouth to apologise, to beg for an explanation or forgiveness, whichever one he thought was more pressing, and then the door would swing open.

And Bugsy would walk in.

Donned in the same bluebell dress she’d worn at JJ’s wedding, only her arm wasn’t broken. And she’d walk right up to him, that smile on her face that said she was excited to see him.

And Maeve would look at her, and instead of scowling or sneering like a woman soaking in jealousy would, they would look at one another and grin like they’d known each other decades.

“Car’s out front when you guys are done,” Bugsy would chirp, her eyes warm when she looked down at the dead woman, satiated in genuine happiness to see her, “Don’t keep him too long,”

“One dance, Agent Prentiss, and he’s all yours,” Maeve would reply with a giggle, her brunette locks falling like a waterfall over her shoulder when she’d stand, offering a hand to him to sweep him onto the dancefloor, “You coming, Spencer?”

And his eyes would snap open, returning him back to the horrible reality of his darkened bedroom, his apartment silent other than the sound of Bugsy tossing in the spare room, the way she did when she got too warm in her sleep, and he threw his legs out of bed to go get her some cold water.

But the dream never left him. The same one he’d had for months, since she’d moved in with him to take care of him, make sure he was eating and keeping as happy as he could be.

The sight of her in that blue dress, waiting for him to finish his dance haunted him almost as much as Maeve did.

–

“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been sleeping?” She asked, cornering him in the kitchen once they’d both dropped their go bags in their room and he’d jumped for the kettle to make them both coffee.

He blanked, the mug nearly slipping from his grasp as he plonked it down on the counter in front of her, “Why would you think-”

“Spencer,” She said as a warning, her lip quirking between her teeth as she gnawed at it worriedly.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” He confessed too quickly, scratching the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous, “I know you worry about me, especially right now, and when you worry, you don’t sleep, and I just thought what’s the point in both of us running on nothing,”

She huffed, and he shuffled around the island to meet her where she stood by the bar stools, looking like she wanted to be cross with him but she couldn’t find it in herself.

“You should have told me, I could have stroked your back the way you liked, or, I don’t know,” She shrugged, looking anywhere but his guilty looking hues, “Smuggled night nurse in your tea,”

“Drugs. Cause that’s way better than my thing,” He teased, and she snickered, and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t really mad at him. He hated lying to her, he’d just wanted to keep his odd dream to himself until he could make sense of it, “Did Dave tell you anything else?”

She shook her head, and he knew she was telling the truth because she seemed to immediately be the one assessing him for anything else she should have been told much sooner.

“Is your head okay?” She asked, putting a gentle hand to his forehead to check for migraine heat, “I know they get worse when you don’t sleep-”

“My head’s fine, Bug,” Spencer replied, grabbing her hand with his long fingertips, pulling them from his face to squeeze at her side with a warming smile, “Promise. I’ll tell you if it gets bad,”

She watched him sceptically for a moment before she leaned over to grab her coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing in delight when it tasted perfect, “I love your memory, did I ever tell you that?”

He chuckled, dodging a rogue Niko that bobbed between his feet because it was almost dinner time for the two miscreants, moving back over to the sink to tidy the granules of sugar he’d spilled, “Many times. But I’d remember your coffee even if I had a normal brain,”

“Humble as always,” She remarked, smiling devilishly when he shot her a glare over his shoulder. It was then that Sergio jumped up onto the counter, the way Spencer had tried scolding him for a million times because of the germs, only for the onyx black cat to flick his tail in his face as if to flip him a middle finger, yowling in the man’s face for his usual dinner of kibble and water.

“Alright, alright,” Spencer sighed, reaching into the cabinet to grab their food, two fluffy bodies immediately weaving in between his long legs with mews and head bumps, because those boys knew how to wrap him around their little finger, “You ought to start being nice to me, boys. One day it’ll probably just be me and you guys, and then you can’t just bat your tails at me like you do your mom-”

“I know I’m turning twenty eight but I still got a few years left kicking, Spence,” Bugsy protested, her brows furrowing when she heard his murmurs, which she hadn’t found entirely odd since he always spoke to the boys when he fed them, except this time it had made her draw back in confusion, “Where am I in this hypothetical bachelor pad you got going on?”

“You’ll be with whatever guy is lucky enough to talk his way into dating you, maybe engaged, maybe married,” He said like it was nothing, despite the fact he’d been thinking about that exact scenario for months. Since Penelope had mentioned just how good British men were in bed, in fact. Because he felt both sick and curious as to whatever it had been that had come out of her mouth in return, “And I’ll look after the boys while the two of you move on, because you’ll feel sorry for taking my only friends away from me when you leave, and I’ll be forced to become a lonely, old cat man,”

“That’s not true,” She said, her face warming when he chuckled cynically, running a hand through his hair, “Spence, you can’t actually believe that?”

“Yes it is, Bugsy, you don’t need to try and make me feel better,” He brushed her off, wiping his knuckles over heavy eyelids, “You and I both like facts, right? It’s a quantifiable fact that zero women except Maeve have ever fallen in love with me in thirty years. Even if we call it twelve years to remove the factor of less meaningful relationships developing before adulthood, that means I’ll be forty two by the time I next get a shot, at which point I’ll be too old and washed up for anyone to find me attractive. Let’s face it, no one is ever going to love me like that again,”

“That’s not true,” She repeated, her chest hammering, her face scrunched into a scowl, “You’re wrong. Quantifiably wrong.”

“You have no data to back that statement up, Bug,” He replied with a dark snicker, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the idea of her engaged to some other bonehead that had made him so crass, “Can’t make a conclusion without drawing on your evidence, to which you have none,”

“Yes, I do, asshole. I know for a fact that someone is in love with you,” She snapped, and it was like a bolt of lightning had cut through their conversation, blowing up in her face, her entire body freezing the second the words had left her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes panicked, and all teasing had dropped out of his expression, leaving something confused, “Bug-”

“I don’t know why I said that,” She cut him off, jumping into action and avoiding his burning gaze. But he was fast, and he was pushing off the counter just as quickly as her.

“Bugsy, what do you mean? I don’t understand,” He persisted, darting only a pace behind her when she moved towards the living room to grab her cardigan off the back of the sofa.

She shook her head, “Ignore that, it doesn’t matter,”

“No, what did you mean by that?” Spencer asked, his voice tense because he had never seen her cower away from him like that, her body moving entirely into a state of flight. She shook her head, snatching the white fabric in her fingers and spinning on her heel to head for the doorway. But there he was, blocking her escape, his impossibly tall body stopping her right in her tracks, and she didn’t need to look up to know he had that special Spencer brand of Puppy Eyes.

“I’m going to the store-”

“Bugsy,”

“It doesn’t matter, Spence, just leave it,” She said shakily, trying to duck around him only for him to dodge to the left and stop her advance, “Spence, leave it, please,”

“What did you mean? Just tell me,” He begged, his cadence wary, the sound of it flushing her entire chest with a heat she’d never known. She swore she was going into cardiac arrest, her heartbeat was in her throat, and it made it difficult to swallow, let alone push him away, “Do you know something?”

Her breaths were deep, begging her chest to behave as it damn near spun her vision into dizziness. He was just a man. He was just a boy. How could he have so much control over her entire body when he had barely even touched her? When he had just asked her one tiny little question?

It was unethical, how her stomach rippled with butterflies the second she dared to look at his hazel eyes, round and intense where they never left her face. It should have been illegal for begging to look so good on him.

She took a sigh, shaking her head and looking back to his mismatched socks, chuckling bitterly, and putting her head in her hands. She couldn’t escape from this, her only defence mechanism was to curl into herself like an armadillo against a predator, her attacker being the god's honest truth that he was owed years ago.

“I really,” She cleared her throat, her eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, “I really messed things up with you,”

“What?” Spencer’s hot hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could hear her every word clearly, “I thought we were okay now, I thought we were friends again,”

She laughed emptily, her bottom lip quivering, her hands shaking under his touch. He was so warm, he always had been, but it felt as if he was everywhere when he was only really touching the skin of her pulsepoint. She hoped he couldn’t feel just how it beat for him, beat so loud and fast all for him.

“That’s the problem,” She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting his as she gave an unsure breath, gulping loudly. It was like he stared right at her soul, and pleaded it to speak to him. And she had never been able to say no to him, not when he looked like that, “When I came back from London, I came back to tell you that…”

She breathed again, because she felt like she was holding it while she confessed, she knew it was no wonder she felt so dizzy, but she couldn’t look away from him, where his face was morphing into realisation.

“I came to tell you that.. I-I’m in love with you, Spencer,” A single tear dribbled down her cheek, but he let go of her hands quickly to catch it, his lips pressing together in a silenced word, most like ‘oh’. His brows quirked above his nose, his eyes turning into devastation as soon as she’d said it. But it was out there now, so there was no use in trying to keep it in anymore. “I have been, for a while I think, and I wanted to tell you because I thought you might-might-” She gulped, the finger that had brushed the first tear stroking down until it rested under her jaw, the feeling of it damn near making her whine, “I don’t know, I just hoped you would feel anything back- but you don’t have to say anything, I know you’re hurting and so I just kept it in, but every time I see you I feel like I’m choking and I don’t know how to make it stop-”

“Tell me you’re lying,” Spencer said with a biting tone, his eyes honey comb gold and glistening when he looked at her. It couldn’t be true. He never got this lucky. It couldn’t be, he refused-

She shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading and wet, “Never, Spencer. I would never lie to you. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you- I know you’re hurting, I know you’re grieving and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“I love you too,” He whispered, and it was like her words came to fruition as her voice was robbed, the air leaving her lungs. Her jaw dropped, her wet eyes boring into his chest, his hands skirting up to hold her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her tear ladened skin, “God, Bug, I’ve loved you for so long, I thought you didn’t want anything like that after that kiss-”

Her expression dropped, eyebrows scrunching together, “What kiss?”

He blanked, for once speechless. Only the kiss he’d torn himself to pieces over for weeks and weeks. “The night- that Derek brought you over when you’d had…” He trailed off, wanting to throttle himself for how dumb he’d been in retrospect, “When you’d had the Molly,”

Her hand slapped over her mouth, his own hands flying to palm at his eyes, because how could he be so incredibly stupid. Ecstasy was a memory suppressant. He knew, he knew better than most, that taking recreational drugs like that robbed you of even the most life shattering moments.

She didn’t remember. How could she? She was so out of it she could barely walk without stumbling over a flat surface. And instead of asking her, instead of simply growing a pair and seeing what she remembered, he’d gotten a girlfriend.

This was all wrong. This was so wrong. The guilt from Maeve dying was a wound that had cut him deep, and yet having Bugsy in his arms so placid and warm and adoring was a salve he had never dreamed would feel so numbing.

“We kissed?” She asked, her eyes blazing with embarrassment, her hand running through her hair in shock horror, “I don’t- how don’t I remember that- that’s all I dreamed of for months-”

“Technically you kissed me,” He explained, despite the fact his cheeks had set on fire hearing her confess even the smallest bit more to him. She loved him. She was in love with him. She had been for months, she said. She loved him. “It would have been wrong if I did anything even if it was all I’d thought of too. And I just thought, because you never mentioned it, that you didn’t want to remember it at all,”

He felt like he’d taken some sort of truth serum, like he should shut himself up any second now because he was spilling his longest kept secret to the one person who should have never been privy to it. But it was okay if she knew. Because she loved him.

She looked at him, and he swore he’d never seen eyes so beautiful, but then he’d always loved her eyes. But the way they looked at him, as if he’d had a bag pulled from over his head, or his glasses had been given the correct prescription, because it was like he suddenly saw just how adoring she looked when she watched him like that.

And despite herself, she laughed.

It was girlish, and carefree, and happy. So, so happy. And he started laughing too. She fell into his chest, her face hot with embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her giggling into his shirt, shaking her head.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” She said, and it was mumbled, and the sound of it made him smile wider.

“I’m a stupid, stupid man. I’m so sorry, Bug,” He replied, his large hand stroking down the back of her hair though a sour taste crawled up his throat.

He still owed Maeve that dance. Just as he’d told Rossi. Who had told Bugsy, because he knew she had some magic way of getting her way with everyone.

She pulled away, her eyes young and so incredibly pretty when she smiled at him like that. Sensing his hesitation, she tried to pull away from his embrace, worried like it was second nature to her by now that she’d overstepped. Only he didn’t let her. He kept his hand at the back of her head, one under her arm to pin her close to his body, because he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let her go twice.

“You said you tried to tell me when you got back from London?” He said softly, and she nodded, like her confession had taken everything out of her, “But then when you got here… I was with Maeve,”

She swallowed, worried where he was going, and nodded again wordlessly.

He chewed the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath for courage, “I’m still- I feel terrible if-”

“You can still grieve, Spencer,” She cut him off, knowing what he was struggling to say, and his eyes crawled back up to meet her gaze, “It’s not heinous to need time to think, I know it’s a lot to ask, I never expected you to-”

He cut her off with a kiss to the apple of her cheek, warm and angelic, the feeling of it forcing her mouth shut, because she worried she might just whimper in delight if she didn’t. Her hand flew up to his forearm that moved around to cup neatly under her ear, his fingers weaving into her hair as he kissed again down near her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut. And when she thought it was done, when she thought her luck was spent, he kissed her again, on the cusp of her lips, a ghost breath slipping from a parted mouth, because she thought she might have just died and gone to heaven.

“Bugsy, I love you,” Spencer said, and her heart felt full, so full her eyes welled up all over again because it was everything she had ever wanted, “I just need a little time,”

Her eyelids flicked open, and the bliss written over her face took a knock, her head reeling back like he’d burned her. But, as before, he didn’t let her go, He refused to let her run away again. Not when he had everything he wanted, “That’s not a ‘no’. It’s just a very stupid man who has loved you for longer than you’d know hoping on everything that you’ll be willing to give me a month or two. I want to do this right, you deserve to have this done right, and I want to give you only the best version of myself,”

Spencer’s heart pounded against his slender ribcage as he waited for her response, because he knew he was pushing his luck. But he’d meant every word of it, and he figured if he had any chance at being the guy he’d always told himself she needed, he’d need to be honest with her. They’d need to be honest with each other.

But she smiled at him, sweet and besotted beneath his palm, and he didn’t know why he’d ever doubted her.

“I waited six years, what’s a few months on top of that?” She smirked, her face glowing when he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, and he felt how hot her blood ran under his touch. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his did the same.

“I promise. Just a few more months, bug,”

And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer meant it. He wouldn’t let her go ever again.

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches s @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

886 notes · View notes

just-zy · 4 months

Text

A stupid girl with a bloody nose

pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem Reader!

summary: Being arrogant gets Vada absolutely nowhere, well sometimes..

A/N: okayy so I had this draft on my wattpad and then decided that I should probably post it here. Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings!: my writing, blo*d, u might be able to smell how ancient this work is.. lemme know if I hv a bunch that needs to be put on warning!

Masterlist

Libraries are a phenomenal place to stay when you have the need to be alone. The peace it gives, the peace it offers. But, trouble's always lingering somewhere, somehow.

"Psst! Hey..!"

I hear someone quietly call for my attention. Well, technically not just someone. It's someone who I, oh so, despise.

"What do you want, Vada?" I counter back, not really in the mood for their shenanigans. I was sitting by the window, giving me its clear view of the baby blue sky, and the buildings of the school. Being this, a second story library school. Considering class hasn't started yet, I went on a little trip to the library.

I glanced at my left wrist where my watch was attached to. On my right, a book in hand, with my fingers lingering on the books spine.

Ugh, it's literally 8 in the morning, what the heck does this girl want?

"Heard the exam scores are being announced today." I can already hear the smirk she's wearing. Gosh, she's so infuriating.

I tilt my head gently towards her, having my attention on her, rather in an uninterested manner. I see her sitting across me, with her legs crossed and her hands on her cheeks, her palms on her chin. "So? You still think you'd be able to... What? Go beyond my score? Hm?", I taunt.

She scoffs for a moment and gives me that damn signature smirk of hers. She says, "Of course! I studied way before you did! I know for a fact that I, did better.", Confidently.

I raise a brow at her, obviously not interested nor intimidated by her. I roll my eyes and went back to occupy the book on my hand that was needed to be read.

"We'll see." As I said that, I hear wood creaking, indicating that she was now not by the table next to me.

What a pain in my ass.

★

"Alright class! Today's the announcement of the exam scores, now I need you all to be quiet and stay on your seats until I've finished. Only then you can all take your lunch."

After hearing the Teachers roaring voice, the students started murmuring, as if they doubted themselves and assumed they had failed, or supposedly passed.

"Two students tied up with the same perfect score, Y/N Y/L/N and Vada Cavell." Applaud can be heard, others with impressed expression, others with envy glances.

Again? Not again! Ugh.

"Then we have Riu Moore, coming on third Sevi Guth..." I shut my eyes, breathing in and out heavily.

How can this girl follow my pace?? I've hardly seen her do work! This is so annoying, she's so annoying! She's probably a teacher's pet—!

"Wondering how I've tied up with you, huh?" I hastily opened my eyes and I sight this girl's punchable face in front of me, her crouching figure, and her face inches away from mine. I could practically feel her breathe hitting my lips.

Holy shit she smells good.

I stumble on my words. "I- I.. No! What? Get your face away, stupid!" I shook, closing my eyes while my palm swung towards her, my palm making contact with a part of her face.

I heard a loud thud, followed by a pained grunt. "Shit." I sympathetically say under my breathe.

I get out of my seat and see her clutching her nose. "Y- you have a hard palm..", I audibly gasped as I start to see droplets of blood. I pulled her up by her forearm and began to drag her out of the classroom towards to the clinic.

Before I went out of the classroom, I saw only a few students left, no teachers. That was a bonus..

★

"You're good to go, Vada. Though, may I ask what caused your injury?", I sat by the chair next to the bed, where Vada was sitting.

She chuckles. "Oh! I kind of slipped and landed right on my nose.. Yeah, that wasn't really the best sight." she enthusiastically dismissed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, practically glancing skeptically at her. Wondering why she hadn't told the truth.

"Well, alright then.. Change the bandages when you get home, alright?"

"Will do."

She thanked the nurse for her care and went up to me. She held me by my hand. Before I could protest, she already had something in mind.

"For almost killing me! You! Have to buy me lunch today.", She starts with a teasing tone.

"Killing you? I hadn't even done enough damage to actually kill you!" I said irritated, but didn't pull away, I knew I owe her. But who goes up to someone like that? Obviously someone who isn't sane.

"And besides, if you had just came up to me like what a normal person would have, you wouldn't have been on that damn clinic bed. You really had to get to my face like that! Your fault, stupid."

She chuckles and glances at me, she was an inch taller than I am. Never was intimidated by her. Never will be. We never even were this close before! Not until today.

Though, I wouldn't mind staying hand in hand with her for a little bit longer.

______±______

V: just to be clear, this is a date, right?

Y: w-what?! no! *red as a tomato*

V: awh..

A/N: this may or may not have been proof read sooo... don't hate me..

#jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #vada cavell

151 notes · View notes

hitomisuzuya · 11 months

Note

OH OH OHH THE SPOOKY SEASON IS HERE

SCREAM! KILLER SCARA?!? WANTING TO HUNT U DOWN AND SCARE U AT UR FRIENFD PARTY BUT HE ENDS UP FINGERING YOU IN A ROOM

Don’t ask why the guy who talked to u ended up dead it wasn’t him he swears

Killer!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Fingersucking. Degradation. Mentions of gore. Yandere Scara.

😳 You guys know I love it when requests are worded like this. I may have gotten carried away with this.

Scaramouche emerged from the woods across the street from the party, wiping blood off of his knife. Honestly, he was going to let him live. Really he was. Actually he wasn't.

Maybe he would've, but he just kept insisting. His mistake was touching you after you'd turned him down. Nobody touched what was already Scaramouche's.

Scaramouche had been carrying on a nice conversation with you, having gotten your phone number, and had just worked his way to putting his hand on your thigh when you moved closer to him on the couch so you could hear him better.

Then that shithead came up, spouted about a bunch of bullshit about how Scaramouche was a loser, and that you would be better off with him. Scaramouche wanted to grab him by the throat when the guy reached out and touched your shoulder.

Yeah, that shithead needed to die. He didn't know how it happened, and every one at the party thought his knife was just a prop for Halloween. No one would suspect a thing.

Scaramouche walked back to the party without anyone really knowing he'd been gone. Though he hoped you'd noticed and tried looking for him.

Now, where to find you. After the now very dead shithead tried taking you away from him, you'd gone off and hid by your friend to avoid the persistent guy.

Now you didn't have to worry about him anymore.

Before Scaramouche had slit his throat, he'd cut out his eyes for looking at you, and his fingers for touching you. No real big loss for the world, really.

Your friend pointed him in the direction of her bedroom, saying you were hiding in there cause it was quiet.

Up the stairs Scaramouche went. He saw the door to your best friend's bedroom open a crack. Quietly, quietly he tip toed up to the door. He was relieved when it didn't creak when he opened it. Because if it had, he wouldn't have been able to--

"Boo!"

You jumped, nearly rolling off your best friend's bed. "Holy shit, you scared me," You said, blushing at his amused laugh.

"My bad," His response was totally unapologetic. Once he sat on the bed next to you, all it took was a few teasing purrs about distressing you, and a hand on your thigh for him to get your legs spread, a single finger sopping in and out of your cunt.

"I've been thinking about this all night," He groaned, nudging his finger into your sweet spot in a way that made your back arch off the bed, letting the out the sweetest moans.

Scaramouche swiped his thumb across your throbbing clit. Your thighs shook as you bucked your hips up into his hand. "Do you feel good, slut?" He licked his lips, his cock throbbing from how pathetic your mewling sounded.

One of your hands gripped the bedsheets. "Mhm, yes! Yes I do," Begging for another finger wasn't beneath you, because come on, his fingers are fucking beautiful. "Put another finger inside of me, please!" You pleaded, looking at him desperately.

"Oh?" Scaramouche taunted, laughing at pleading mewl when he took his finger out of your cunt. "You want another finger, hm?" Gripping your chin with one hand, he tilted your head up and shoved two fingers into your mouth. They felt so good prodding and gliding on your tongue as he pushed them into your throat. "Get them nice and wet for me, doll."

You moaned happily as Scaramouche pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, making you choke on them before bullying them up inside of you. He hooked them harshly into your sweet spot. He'd already made you cum once, and your second orgasm was fast approaching.

"Fuck, you are dripping down my wrist," He hissed, slamming his fingers inside of you, scissoring your walls apart.

"A third finger would feel so good, please!" You begged, writhing on the bed. He teased a third finger against your entrance. He would give you what you wanted. Your walls clamped immediate when he bullied a third finger inside of you.

It didn't take long for you to cum on his fingers, crying out for him as he fingered you through your orgasm. You were twitching and drooling by the time he pulled his fingers out of you. You happily opened your mouth for them when he pushed them against your lips.

"You'll be coming home with me, yes?" He asked, laughing when you bobbed your head onto his fingers to draw them into your throat. You nodded.

"By the way, I took care of your annoyance," Scaramouche said, watching drool pool out your mouth, "you won't have to worry about him anymore."

"Hm?" You muffled, too fucked out to understand what he really said.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche smut #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche imagines #yandere scaramouche

1K notes · View notes

lostcherise · 1 month

Text

Goner

Summary: In which Jesse Pinkman grows some balls and finally asks you out to prom.

Warnings: high school (they're both 18 ok), use of marijuana, piv sex, finger fucking, dry humping, cunnilingus, car sex, Jesse pinkman!!!

word count: 6,177

A/N: it's been like 5 years since I've last written anything so bear with my rusty ass. I thought I'd get back to it with a bit of Jesse Pinkman, cause there's not enough of him around to satisfy my needs, so I took matters into my own hands. This is also posted on ao3 so if you see this there, that's me!! Hope you enjoy!!

Jesse Pinkman was no suave ladies man.

Sure, he could talk his way into a girl's pants every now and then, but that was only when there were no feelings involved. That wasn't the case with you, though. He was crushing and boy was he crushing hard. So hard it clouded his mind whenever you were remotely close to him, be it in class or passing him by in the hallway.

He never heard the end of it from Skinny Pete and Badger too, always on his ass about the way he acted at the mere mention of your name. He was a goner. He even got himself in embarrassing situations by his infatuation with you. Like that one time during Mr. White's chemistry class when he was caught ogling at you from the table on your left.

"Pinkman." Mr. White's stern voice broke him out of his trance. "How boring does this class have to be that you opt to continuously stare at miss Y/L/N?"

Blood rushed up to his cheeks, embarrassed he bore his gaze into the jagged corner of the table. A couple of muffled snickers echoed behind him, he didn't even dare to lift his gaze up and look over his shoulder to cuss them out.

He was brave enough to look up in your direction, though, and his breath hitched in is throat. You were looking at him. That was the first moment you ever both locked eyes with each other and it was at his fucking expense. The first time you looked at him and it was when he was fucking caught staring at you like a creep.

Maybe he was delusional, but he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smile gracing your glossy lips. And shit. Were you blushing?

His heart fluttered. He was officially a goner.

"Shit man. We can't go to prom by ourselves like a bunch of losers. Again." Badger whined, giving his locker a harsh shove. The echoing sound earning a glare from Jesse who had been lost in his train of thoughts just moments ago.

"Speak for yourself, yo. Already got myself a date." Skinny, smirked and rolled his shoulders back in a more confident stance. He earned two shocked stares from his friends, with Badger letting out yet another raspy whine.

"Stop bluffing, yo." Jesse scoffed and smacked his chest.

"Nah, man it's true. I'm going with Jennifer Stine, yo." Skinny smirked at his friends shocked faces, his smirk widened when Badger started stomping his legs like a fucking two year old. He hung his head low in defeat, shoulders slumped. However, that only lasted for a couple of seconds, his head snapped up and a shit eating grin graced his face, he was looking directly at Jesse. That couldn't be good.

"I'm gonna ask Y/N to pro-" Badger didn't even get to finish his sentence before Jesse pushed him into the lockers and grabbed him by the collar. He was seething, his icy blues were glaring up at Badger, but in his mind all he could picture was his friend's grimy hands on your waist as you were slow dancing. There was no way in hell he could let that happen.

"Back the fuck off, she's off limits." Jesse seethed through gritted teeth.

"Why, man? You won't even talk to her." Badger riled him on even more. Sure, he was right, Jesse didn't have the courage to go up and talk to you, but in his mind you were unofficially his. Plus, if he couldn't have you, no one else could. Out of his friend group any way, he could think of a hundred boys better than himself that would be deserving of your attention. But it wouldn't hurt to dream.

"I'm going to ask her out to prom. Today. At lunch." The words came out of Jesse's mouth way faster than his brain could process. Though, the minute they slipped out of his lips, he regretted it, but there was no way he was going to retract his statement. It was time to man up and stop being a fuckin' coward.

"Right on, brother." Skinny slapped his shoulder blade encouragingly, to which Jesse silently nodded, unsure of himself. There was no backing out now. With a deep inhale, he let go of Badger's shirt, he desperately needed a fat blunt to ease his nerves.

"I'm skipping class, see you at lunch." Jesse mumbled seconds before the bell rang and scurried of to the parking lot. His brows were scrunched with worry, his eyes quickly scanning the premises, he couldn't afford getting caught hitting a blunt at school. Again. Not if he wanted to be with you there, he just had to be extra careful this time. He reached into his pocket with trembling hands, cursing under his breath when he couldn't immediately find his keys amongst the pack of cigarettes and various gum wrappers. He finally fished out his keys, along with a loose screw, he couldn't even remember what that was for, let alone what it was doing in his pocket. Shaking his head he threw it over his shoulder and quickly got in his Monte Carlo.

Once inside, he reached over the console and opened the glove compartment, grabbing a small ziplock bag containing a few rolled up joints. I need a better hiding place for this, he silently thought to himself, but he'd have to worry about that some other day. He snatched the lighter that was thrown on the passenger seat and lit one up, the stench immediately filling up the car.

His mind was racing a thousand miles per second, how was he going to approach you. Hey you probably don't know me but I've hard a raging crush on you since 8th grade, please go to prom with me? He groaned into the steering wheel, there was no subtle way to approach the matter. He had to be fast and to the point, like ripping out a bandaid. Yeah, that would do.

With a sudden surge of confidence, he put out the joint and got out of his car. Maybe smelling like weed before asking you out wasn't one of his brightest moments, he must've had some forgotten cologne in his car somewhere. After spraying some on, he now smelled like weed and cologne. He paced around for a few minutes waiting for the next bell to ring so he could go to the cafeteria and set his plan in motion. Well, there really was no plan, maybe he would think of something along the way, his main concern was not to be a blubbering mess in front of you and your popular friends.

He strutted with confidence, but with each step that he took closer to you he was losing it bit by bit, till he reached out a shaky hand to open the cafeteria door.

Here goes nothing.

___________________________________________________

You shook your head once more, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.

"Wha- no!?" Your friend Maddie shrieked. "How could you say no to Matt?" She asked indignantly. "Just so you know," Maddie pointed a manicured finger at you, "if you keep this up you're gonna end up going alone to prom."

"Then so be it!" You giggled, pushing your soggy green beans to the side. "It's just I imagined senior prom a little different that's all." With Jesse Pinkman, is what you really wanted to say, but you knew it wasn't going to sit well with your friend that you had a crush on your school's weed dealer. Plus, there were rumors going around that he was into harder stuff too. So for that you opted to take your secret crush with you to the grave.

"Oh, come on with you and always being a stickler for following plans. Live spontaneously, for once." Maddie sighed, she hated that about you.

"Am not!" You threw a bean at her, it landed on the side of her mouth. You held in your laughter as Maddie sputtered, spitting at nothing to get rid of the disgusting taste and feeling.

The cafeteria door swung open, catching your eye. You smiled faintly, it was Jesse. Although, it was short lived, once you noticed he was walking your way. He was fidgeting and he seemed to breathing fast. Was he on something?

"H-hi, Y/N." He squeaked once he reached your table. The whites of his eyes were red indicating that he was in fact high, he also smelled faintly of weed, he had done a piss poor job of concealing that with his cologne.

Maddie scrunched up her face and opened her mouth ready to tell him to buzz off, but you were quicker.

"Hey, Jesse." You smiled sincerely, albeit a little confused, you've never even spoken to him before.

"Well, shit. You know my name." He voiced his thoughts out loud with wide eyes and you watched him visibly cringe at that and although you wanted to laugh at how cute he was, you decided to spare him the added embarrassment.

"Fuck, I d-don't know how to, uh, say this," he fidgeted with his beanie and scratched his brow, he seemed... nervous? You couldn't help but wonder what for. "Do you- Do you wanna go to prom with me?" He grimaced, poor boy looked like he was in pain.

You blinked up at him dumbfounded, God knows for how long that was, until your trance was broken by Maddie's snorting. "As if, buddy." She dismissed him for you.

"Yes." You interjected, shocking both Maddie and Jesse. "Yes, I will." You added with a genuine smile.

"What?" You asked once you took notice of the way Maddie was staring at you. "You wanted spontaneous, this is spontaneous." You lied with ease. This wasn't spontaneous, this was all you ever wanted, but no one had to know about that.

"Here, gimme your phone." Your reached out towards Jesse. "I'll type in my number and we can discuss the details later?" You asked hopefully.

"Yes!" He exclaimed a little to eagerly. He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, "here you go." He said in a fake confident voice.

Your fingertips brushed momentarily and the sensation was electrifying, it sent jolts right down to your toes. You hoped he had felt it too. Silently, you typed in your name and number in his contacts and handed him is phone back.

"I'll be happy to hear from you." You said with the best flirty voice you could muster in your nervous state. "See you around, Jesse." You smiled sweetly up at him. He was a mumbling mess and fled with a barely audible goodbye. You didn't see him for the rest of the day that day.

___________________________________

Four days straight. That's how long you kept dodging Maddie's questions about the Jesse situation. You tried to be as vague as possible but it was proving to be extra hard when she was on your ass every minute. Meanwhile, you'd been exchanging text messages with Jesse, it started off with basic details about prom night, mainly how you wanted to match your red dress with him. After that it bloomed into a lighthearted conversation, neither of you being overly flirty over text, on your case you were just so shy. Prom was tomorrow and you still couldn't believe that you were going with Jesse, the thought alone had you squealing like a 5 year old.

You jumped up on your bed, landing on your back. Tomorrow was your only shot at achieving that something more with Jesse Pinkman. Sighing contently you closed your eyes and daydreamed various scenarios of you and Jesse, slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep with a smile on your face.

The next morning went by like a blur and by 3pm it was time to get ready for the full on routine. Hair, legs, exfoliating, masks you name it, you had to be pampered all the way down to your toes, you had to look perfect.

Your mom leaned on your bedroom's doorframe, "So you're not going to tell me who's the guy that's taking you to prom?" She peered at you with crossed arms and a quirked eyebrow through the mirror reflection. "I mean he will be here in a couple of hours, don't I deserve to know something about him?"

"No..." You trailed off, focusing on your hair, fighting with a certain bobby pin that you were trying to safely secure on your head. Half of your hair was tied up in a deliberate messy bun, with a few face framing curls hanging down. Once you were done with the last bit of your hair, you gave your mother's question another thought, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn't really know much about Jesse. Your heart faltered at the thought, what if this was a bad choice?

"Help me with the zipper, please?" You stood up and motioned at your back. With two swift steps your mom stood behind you and carefully pulled the zipper up. You flattened the non existent wrinkles on your dress, it hugged your figure perfectly, the burgundy red fabric falling all the way down to your ankles. It was topped with a black sheer layer that created a beautiful contrast, it also had a modest slit that stopped a few inches above your left knee for easier movement.

"When is he coming to pick you up?" She asked, resting her hands on your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze, she could always sense when you were feeling off.

"In like ten minutes? I think." You replied glancing at the time, 6:30pm. With a quick once over in the mirror, you touched up your make up and adjusted your hair when the doorbell rang.

"Shit." Your eyes widened and you ran over to your window, moved the curtain on the side and peered out in the driveway. Sure enough, a glaring red Monte Carlo was parked on the sidewalk in front of your house. "Shit, fuck." A string of curses fell from your lips, despite your mom's judgmental stare. "He's early. Go get the door before dad does." You pleaded.

"Okay, okay." Your mother waved you dismissively and sauntered down the stairs, a pair of faint voices could be heard from down the hallway, from what you could make out your dad was already bombarding Jesse with loads of questions. That was your cue to step out and save him from the torture.

Jesse was mid sentence when you reached the bottom of the stairs, his words dying on his lips. His blue eyes held your gaze in silence until your dad cleared his throat and spoke up "You, uh" his voice cracked a little "you look gorgeous sweetie." He complimented you and came by your side to place a loving soft kiss on the top of your head.

Your mom was standing next to Jesse with a camera in her hands. "Oh, honey you both look so beautiful, come on Jesse go stand next to her so can I snap a picture of you both." She ushered him excitedly. After the mini photoshoot your mom directed, you were both free to head out. Once you both were in his car you broke the silence.

"You got here early." You commented simply.

"Shit, yeah." He let out a breathy chuckle, turning the key in the ignition and his car rumbled to life. "Actually, I was sitting in my car for about 20 minutes before I decided to come in. That old lady neighbor of yours was getting suspicious and I didn't want the cops called on me." He glanced at you and you both laughed, that wouldn't have been ideal. You weren't naive, you knew what Jesse was into and God knows what they could have found in that car of his. You admired him silently from the passenger seat, his dirty blonde hair fell shaggy in front of his forehead, just above his eyebrows. The suit he was wearing seemed to be one size too big for him, however you had noticed that to be a pattern, given his every day clothes were just as baggy on him. His skinny frame accentuated the difference even more. He was matching you with a burgundy tie and fake rose in his pocket.

"You look handsome, very..." your voice trailed off as you tried to tried to find the right words. His pointed gaze didn't do any favors in easing your nerves. "Presentable." You winced, that was not it.

"Oh." Surprisingly, he was smiling. "Are you saying I normally look like a bum, yo?" His tone was teasing.

"Yes. But I kinda dig that, just so you know."

"That's comforting, good to know."

Soon you came to a stop and you barely had time to unbuckle your seat belt, the passenger door flung open. Jesse's chest was moving rapidly, his hand outstretched towards you to help you out of the car. His touch was electrifying, his fingertips surprisingly soft as they brushed the back of your hand softly. Your hands was probably disgustingly sweaty from the nerves, if that were the case then he made no comment about it. You mumbled in thanks and silently made your way to your school's basketball court. It seemed as you had arrived a tad early, not a lot of people were there. Maddie and the rest of your friend group were however and she had noticed you.

Reluctantly you made your way over to them, dragging Jesse along. A few awkward hellos were exchanged and the conversation died there. Each second that passed became even more unbearable until Jesse attempted to break the silence. "Anyone want some punch, yo?"

Everyone lifted their red cups, already full. "I'll be right back." He cleared his throat.

"I'm coming." You tailed him.

"I'm sorry for making it awkward with your friends." He apologized in a low voice once he was out of earshot.

"It's not your fault."

"Everyone knows I'm slingin', so yeah kinda my fault here." He filled his cup and reached inside his suit, pulling out a metal flask. "I stole it from my dad." He answered your silent question. "Want sum?" A mischievous grin found its way on his lips and urged you with a nudge.

"Sure, hit me up." You didn't need much persuasion, if you wanted to make it through tonight, buzzed was the only way that seemed right at that moment.

"Alright, yo!" Jesse cheered you on as he poured clear liquor in your punch. You hadn't even asked what it was but at that point the damage had been done. "To a most memorable prom." He toasted, tipping his cup in your direction and you mimicked his action.

"To a most memorable prom, indeed." You agreed and took a healthy gulp from your cup. "God," you choked out, suppressing a gag. "What's in this?"

"Tequila." He laughed at your distaste.

The music flowed through the speakers and more people started rolling in, a few already dancing on the makeshift dance floor. Maybe a bit of tequila was exactly what you needed to muster up the courage and drag Jesse with you to dance. Despite his best efforts to decline, he ended up awkwardly dancing with his hands on your waist. You stared directly into his eyes, with the heels you were wearing you were about one inch taller than him, which you found cute. As much as you tried to get him to move by moving your own hips, he remained fairly rigid.

"Come on." You shook him. "Move a bit more." You whined as you bumped your shoulders along to the rhythm of 'Murder on the Dancefloor'. With one step back, you let go of him and attempted to disco dance, left hand on your hip while your right moved from the left side of hip and up to the air. His lips were pursed as he tried to suppress a laugh that was dying to come out, until he gave in and joined you. At that moment you both felt free, not caring about anyone else around you. In that moment, it was just you and him, maybe it was fast but it felt so real, you were falling for him.

"Hey," he moved on the side of your face, his lips inches away from the supple skin of your neck and the urge to mark you was real, but he restrained himself. "Wanna ditch?" He asked.

"Go where? You're not having fun?" You asked innocently. Honestly, you were too pure for him sometimes, he felt almost guilty as if he was going to taint you just with his presence.

"I am, I just wanted us to have fun without all these people." His voice drifted off.

"Su- uh, sure." You stuttered and silently let him guide you out of the court, your friends were all looking at you curiously but there was no time for goodbyes to be exchanged.

"Where are we going?" You decided to break the silence, already cruising down the highway on his Monte Carlo. You were getting antsy, you blindly trusted him but that didn't mean that you knew him all too well.

"Was thinking, Sandia Foothills. Enjoy the view, ya know?" He shrugged to which you simply nodded and remained silent on the rest of the drive there.

You couldn't hide the serene feeling that came over you once Jesse parked in a beautiful spot that overlooked the city of Albuquerque. The shimmering lights of the city sky somewhat resembled a starry sky. Although it was June, it was admittedly a bit nippy up there, but some fresh air was much needed.

"I usually come up here to sit alone and think. Get away from the world for a bit." He confessed, staring directly ahead at the Albuquerque skyline. "And light a fat one, of course." It was now that he looked at you with a devious glint in his eyes.

"I want to try." You blurted.

His smile faltered and you noticed his icy blues widening just a bit. "Are you sure? I didn't bring you here to peer pressure you or any of that shit, yo. Just clearing that up." He replied, voice defensive.

"Relax." You exhaled out of your nose. "I wanna try this, I want to try it with you." You reassured and reached over to place your hand on his, hoping it would convince him more.

"Okay..."

Jesse leaned over and reached for the glove box, grabbing the all too familiar ziploc baggie. "Why don't we take this outside?" He suggested with a nod of his head to which you agreed to by getting out. He followed suit, taking a seat on the hood of his car, motioning you to do so as well. You slid over, just a couple of inches away from him and observed in silence as he took the rolled joint, enclosed his soft lips around it and lit it up. He expertly took a long drag and passed it on to you. It felt foreign between your fingertips, you hadn't even held a cigarette before and you wanted to try weed, for God's sake. Bringing it up to your mouth, you mimicked Jesse and took a drag and let the smoke out and he just shook his head.

"What?"

"You gotta inhale it, you know."

"Oh." You tried again, drag, inhale, choke. You pushed the lit joint at him as you struggled for air. "Jesus, that's nasty." You croaked.

"You'll get used to it, yo."

And you did, after three more times and as time went on you really felt the effects kicking in. It felt like you, but free. Your head was rested on his shoulder and you giggled at something stupid he said, you didn't know how long you guys were sitting out there talking but it didn't feel like long enough. Hell, eternity didn't feel like long enough time to spend with Jesse Pinkman.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you moved up to grab the side of his face and pull him in a kiss. You didn't know if it was the three spiked drinks Jesse had given you or the weed or a combination of the two, but you kissed him. And boy, oh boy, did it set your entire body on fire. Even Jesse was stunned at your brazen move, but soon that feeling was overcome and he reciprocated the kiss with equal fervor.

An involuntary whine escaped your lips, only to which Jesse replied to with a moan. The kiss was messy, needy, his tongue exploring your mouth. He was kissing you like a man starved. You snaked your right hand at the nape of his neck, gripping and pulling at his hair slightly. The groan he let out, sent a new wave of neediness down to your core, it was carnal. You moved to straddle his hips, thankful the slit in your dress allowed you freer range of motion. His hands were down to your ass cheeks in an instant, grabbing and squeezing the soft flesh.

You broke out of the kiss, moving your head to the side, something he took advantage of and began his sweet attack on the side of your neck. Something Jesse was dying to do since before you ditched prom with him. With another squeeze on your ass, you involuntarily ground your hips down on his crotch.

"Shit. Fuck." He moaned into your skin, the sound of his voice only egging you on. His dick twitched in his slacks, the feeling of your warm clothed pussy on him sent blood pulsing right to his tip. A soft gasp fell from your lips as you felt him harden against you and your walls clenched around nothing. You couldn't remember the last time you wanted someone this badly before. His hands kept guiding your hips to move against his growing cock. Your pussy ached through your drenched panties, God you had never been that wet before.

"Jesse." You whispered into his mouth. "I want you." You added and placed a soft kiss on his swollen lips. "Give it to me."

"What?" He breathed, he thought he didn't hear you properly, his ears were buzzing and he felt dizzy, all of his blood had drained out of his brain and went straight up to his dick.

"Please, Jesse. Please, please, I need it." You begged breathlessly, not once stopping your hips against his. No one had begged for him, let alone so needily. He had to give in if he didn't wanna come in his pants like some inexperienced twat.

"Backseat, now."

In seconds, you were on your feet scramming to get back in the car. Your knees were wobbly and almost gave out, but you steadied yourself on his car before going in. With clenched thighs you watched as he opened the passenger door and rummaged through the glove box frantically and after a few seconds, he finally got what he needed. Quickly, he jogged over the other side of the car and the door flung open, he grabbed your left calf and dragged you closer you him in a laying position. Now, your left leg was over Jesse's shoulder and your right was awkwardly hanging out of the backseat, you had to throw it over the driver's seat to be comfortable.

"Fuck." Jesse groaned at the sight in front of him, you were so open, so ready for him and he needed to make every second count. With the pad of his thumb, he rubbed soft circles against the wet patch of your underwear, circling his thumb around around your sensitive nub. He almost came at the sight of you writhing beneath him, mewling his name. But that reaction wasn't enough, he wanted to get you screaming, pleading for him to stop. He moved your underwear aside, exposing your swollen cunt at him. Jesse toyed with your slick entrance with his middle finger, enjoying the way your hips jolted at his touch, it was riling him more just how needy you were for him. He added his ring finger to the motions gathering up all of your juices and gently pushed two fingers inside.

Automatically, your muscles clenched around his slender fingers and his name fell out of your lips in a breathy gasp. Your hands reached down to grab a fistful of his hair, tugging as he worked his way with his fingers.

"God, you're perfect." He held your gaze with his, eyes hooded and red, glazed over with the high and lust. He picked up his pace with his hand, pushing his fingers in and out, the wet squelching of your pussy filling up the car, he curled his fingers at the spongy part beneath your pelvic bone and you clenched around him.

Jesse bent down, now his face aligned with your pussy. Soft, warm lips circled around your clit and you screamed at the contact, your hand shooting up to your mouth to muffle the sounds of pleasure that ripped out of your throat. No one had ever went down on you before so it was a totally foreign sensation. Your eyes rolled back as Jesse continued fucking you with his fingers and now with the addition of his tongue rolling lapping at your clit, it felt like too much to handle.

"Jesse, I-" your words were caught in your mouth and another moan came out when he gently sucked on your clit. "I'm gonna cum." Heat pooled at the pit of your stomach, it felt like a ticking bomb ready to go off any minute now. And with a final clench around his fingers, you came crashing down like a dam breaking, coming all over his fingers and face.

"Fuck that's hot." Jesse groaned against your cunt. "I want to feel you clench around my dick." He breathed against your inner thigh, planting a soft kiss before ushering you to sit upright. He got in the middle of the backseat and motioned you to straddle him. You attacked his mouth I'm a hungry kiss, it was boozy from the spiked punch, tasted of weed and faintly tangy from all of your juices. Your fingers worked on his tie, loosening it and you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, you were halfway there when his hands stopped yours.

"No time for that. I need you, now." He mumbled against your mouth, his kisses trailing down your jaw and all the way down to your neck and collarbone, where he sucked on the skin softly, he wanted to leave his mark on you. Let everybody know you were his. Slender fingers slid up your shoulders and pushed down harshly on the straps of your dress, your breasts spilling out. His dick twitched against you, you weren't wearing a bra. One hand moved down to your breast, cupping, squeezing, while the other one groped your ass, urging you to grind on him.

Without saying much, you went on to unbuckle his belt, quickly moving his pants along with his boxers down. His hardened cock sprung free and it laid there in all his glory, thick and hardened, the tip angry and red, already leaking with precum. You longed to get a taste, feel his weight against your tongue. As if being able to read your thoughts, Jesse spoke up.

"Another time, yeah?" He reassured you, reaching down to his pants that were pooled against his ankles and dug around in his pocket and pulled out a condom. You watched in silence and anticipation as he ripped it open and rolled it down his shaft.

Jesse's mouth felt dry, heart thumping angrily against his ribcage. Your face was flushed, lips so plump and red, tits sitting perfectly on your chest. You looked like a dream. Maybe he was dreaming. You grabbed the base of his cock and aligned him with your entrance, to which Jesse closed his eyes, he was almost sure that just before you sank down on him, his eyes would fly open and he'd find himself sleeping in Mr. White's class.

But that never happened.

You both moaned in unison, once you bottomed out, his balls touching your asscheeks. You both sat unmoving for a second, taking in the feeling, a tiny thrust upwards from Jesse is all you needed and you started moving. It was like nothing you'd ever felt before, he filled you up just right, your pussy easily stretching to accommodate his girth and size.

"Shit, that feels amazing." You whined as you slightly picked up your pace, moving your hips up and down in a sloppy figure 8 motion. Jesse's mouth found solace in your breasts, taking in a hardened nipple, suckling on it softly. Shit, he was sure he could make you come just by sucking on your nipples alone, given how responsive you were when he was having his way with them. He took that mental note and made it a goal for another time, for now he was too focused on the way your pussy stretched around his girth. You were made just for him.

"You're so tight." He praised, grabbing your exposed ass and giving it a slap. "Keep going, baby. You're doing so good." He groaned and you started moving your hips faster in response to his words, the grip on his shoulders tightening as you struggled to keep up with the pace you had set. The burning sensation in your quads was catching up to you and he could also sense you were growing tired.

With a steadying arm around your waist, he took over, thrusting up to meet your hips mid air and setting up a new pace, one that had you reeling with new waves of pleasure.

"Faster, please." You begged, to which he happily obliged without any second thought, fucking into your sopping pussy faster and harder, bringing you closer to your second orgasm. His brows were furrowed as he concentrated so hard not to come too soon, before you did at least.

"I'm so close Jesse." You moaned and buried your head in his neck, biting down hard on his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming out.

"Me t-too." He rasped out, reaching down between your bodies, he found your clit and began his assault on your hardened nub, edging you closer to your release. "Come on me." His command was gentle as the combination of his fingers and cock brought you to your release. It came and washed over you like a tidal wave, even harder than the one he had given you minutes ago, you moaned as you gushed all over his cock making a mess on the backseat.

Jesse was about to lose his goddamn mind at how hard you had just come, it was like nothing he had experienced and the feeling alone sent him closer to his own orgasm. With two last sloppy thrusts, his hips stuttered against your own and he spilled into the condom, hard.

"Wow." He breathed.

"Yeah." You agreed breathlessly and rested your forehead against his. His eyes locked with yours and you could see a sea of emotions dancing around in them. God, he was beautiful. You bent down and placed a soft, slow kiss on his lips to which he immediately responded. It wasn't like the ones you shared previously, it was full of unspoken emotion. Jesse struggled so hard not to open his mouth and say something too hasty, he didn't want to scare you off with telling you how he felt. Any chance he had to keep you close, he had to take it, even if that meant keeping his emotions a secret for now. Little did he know, you felt that way too.

"I think it's time to head back." You winced, hating to ruin the moment but it was getting late and you didn't want your parents getting too suspicious. Silently, you cleaned up after yourselves and got dressed. The night was quiet and the highway was empty as you rolled into the city. All too soon, you were parked in front of your house, neither of you wanting to part ways.

"Thanks for being my date tonight." Jesse broke the silence, he sounded a bit shy, a wild contrast to how he was when he was balls deep inside your pussy.

"I had a great time, Jesse. So, thank you too." You smiled up at him.

"Maybe..." He trailed off, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel nervously. "We should go on a proper date sometime?"

"Definitely." You moved to peck his lips quickly but before you could move away, he grabbed your head and pulled you back into a passionate kiss, his tongue moving in sync with yours.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Jesse."

He watched with a smile as you climbed up the stairs of your front porch.

He really was a goner.

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fluff #jesse pinkman smut #breaking bad #smut #aaron paul

71 notes · View notes

luvhughes43 · 1 year

Note

jamie would definitely pass out when lola’s being born ;)

lila, my love masterlist💐

oh for sure😭 it was kind of funny too because jamie was adamant that he wouldn’t😭 i imagine mom watched a bunch of mommy bloggers and like “mom day in the life” videos when she’s pregnant! and so one day she’s scrolling through tiktok before bed and she sees a video of a dad passing out and she jokes that jamie would do the exact same thing.

anyway during labour/delivery jamie was right by moms side, holding her hand, comforting her, pushing her hair out of her face, etc. and so moms crowning or something and a nurse is like “dad come take a look!” and jamie is kind of clueless because he’s really just been paying attention to mom. and so he looks down and sees lila’s head, and all the blood and is immediately faint.

“dad come take a look!” a nurse calls to jamie as mom starts crowning. the word “dad” brings an instant smile to jamie’s face. it was wiped away a second later as he saw the top of his daughters head.

“get him a chair!” one of the nurses yells and a chair is immediately pressed against the back of jamie’s legs. he falls into it easily, one of his elbows coming to rest on an armrest as he hides his face in his palm.

he’s out of it for less than a minute as a sound of pain rushes out of your mouth. hes instantly up and by your side again, hand tightly gripping yours as you squeezes through a push. jamie sways, and a nurse pushes the chair back against his legs but he only shakes his head.

“oh my god… shes really-” jamie gasps, looking away from your lower half as you push again.

“jamie!” you call out, hitting your hand against his stomach. he had let go by mistake.

he immediately grabs onto your hand again, wincing slightly as you squeeze his hand with the force of what seemed like 100 men.

once lilas finally born and placed on your chest, jamie sits in the hospital chair that was placed beside your bed via the nurses.

“jamie, she's beautiful!” you cry as you look down at your newborn baby. when jamie doesn't respond, you turn your head to meet his. “jams?!” jamies face was as white as a ghost as he slumped over in his chair.

the nurses all rush to him, passing him juice and reassuring him that it's common for first time fathers to pass out when he eventually comes to.

thirty minutes later when everything has calmed down, you joke “you know, it was really considerate of you to wait until after lila was born to pass out”

jamie laughs quietly and rolls his eyes playfully at you. “anything for you my love,” he strokes your cheek and you lean into it.

“i love you to the moon” you mumble, watching as jamie trails one of his fingers down lilas face.

“i love you to saturn,” jamie whispers back as he places a kiss onto your forehead. you pass him lila so you can rest, and watch with adoration as jamie holds the baby.

#lila my love au #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic

231 notes · View notes

mochinon-yah · 5 months

Text

Yk what maybe one of you will adopt the idea OR maybe the idea is already out there.... somewhere..... but anyway-

THE IDEA: (tw: yandere and uh gore‐ish stuff?? HELP IDK WHAT ELSE????)

So, you had an ex-boyfriend who was basically a playboy before he met you, but now, he's somewhat changed. You decided to believe him since you knew people could really change, well, at the very least, you hoped so. You gave him a chance, but he... ruined it.

You caught him sneaking around with another girl. Her blouse was messily open and there were a bunch of love bites on her neck, but the most (un)surprising part was that your boyfriend was on top of her. Ah. You should've expected it. People never change.

You broke up with him despite his pleas of sorry's and whatever. You didn't care and you didn't want to care. It hurt you, so you tried to avoid him like the plague. And you, of course, block him on every social media that he had. But oh no, he was still pursuing you! What a drag.

There were countless of letters appearing in front of your house, to which you just ripped it apart. But that was much better since you knew what to do and where to throw it away. It was when you started to get gifts from your ex that started to make it more... scary. (You somehow couldn't make the police move after showing them the countless threatening and bizarre letters)

It ranged from expensive stuff to stuff that was on your wish list, and even to stuff that you were not... expecting to get.

One day, coming home from an awful day of work/school/whatever, you were met with a big red box of something on your kitchen counter. Knowing who gave this to you, you rolled your eyes and simply opened to know what it was inside. You were just... curious. But you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat!

A strong smell of rotten hit your nose immediately. What an awful smell. When you thought that the smell was worse, you haven't seen what the gift was—it was a heart! A real one.

You stumbled down to the ground; your legs went weak at the sight of it. It was... not a normal heart you'd see on a tv drama or somewhere. It was... an abomination. Countless of different hearts were sewn together to make a heart symbol, or love, i suppose. The blood was still there too, making the box somewhat sticky inside.

It was... fresh?

You felt yourself wanting to throw up, but it stopped when you saw a shadow looming over your body. You looked up, and it was your ex standing from behind you.

"Surprise! Happy anniversary, love. Did you like my present? Oh, what am I saying—of course, you'd like it! I know you doubted my love after what had happened, so I took the liberty to take hers and my other exes' and also your exes' heart to make a love! Now, you won't doubt my love for you, right? It's a gift full of effort, so you better be grateful for it!"

He grinned, a psychotic look on his face as he watched you quiver in fear.

#reli-rambles #or uhh #reli-writes #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere idea #yandere drabble #?????#IDK WHAT TO CALL THIS HELP????#I NEVER WRITE ANYTHING YANDERE DESPITE LIKING EM #sorry guys #my inner demon took control and made this.... drabble (?)#IS THIS A BLURB????#what the heck.....#anyway #yandere x reader #yuhuu #finally this idea is out of the bag now

27 notes · View notes

untoldshortsofthefandoms · 2 years

Text

Dull Dates

Request: from an anno from a long time

Prompts: “Can you zip up my dress?”

Word Count: 3785

Warnings: blood, some wounds. lots of sexual tension. bunch of fluff.

Author’s Note: Hello beautiful humans!! I apologize for taking years to come back to writing, but I had a lot going on between college and personal life, but I’m happy to back reading and writing again. I still had my old taglist, I thought it would be best to not tag you, let me know if want to be tagged or added back. Gif is not mine

Dull Dates

God was this date boring, you thought to yourself as you sipped on the glass of wine. Does he ever stop talking about himself? You thought as you nodded your head. You were on a date with the hottest E.R. doctor at Bellevue but god was he dull. You were an E.R. nurse there and you heard how all the other nurses drolled over him, you personally didn’t see it the way they did. Yeah, he was cute but not droll-worthy. Faking a smile and giggle at his joke as you rolled your eyes hoping this so-called date would come to an end soon. Your phone buzzed on the table, you glanced down and saw his name flash across the screen.

Your heartbeat skipped a beat and quickly clearing your throat your gained Robert’s attention. “Excuse me, Robert but I have to go. Emergency.” You stated shaking your phone in your hand.

Robert pulled his phone out, “I didn’t get a call from work though…” his voice trailed off, confused.

“Not a medical emergency Robert…” you paused for a beat, thinking of an excuse “ a family one. I have to go.”

“At least let me take you home.”

“No,” you responded a bit too quickly. “ I’ll be okay. Thank you though.” you recovered, with a smile. You grabbed your jacket, quickly gave Robert a kiss on the cheek, and left the restaurant.

You began the twenty-minute walk back to your apartment when it began to rain. Of course, it would start to rain as you were making your way home. You picked up your pace not because of the rain, but because of what you knew would be waiting at your apartment door when you arrived. A bloody injured Frank Castle. Time always matted when it came to Frank Castle, especially if he was bleeding. You leaned against a lamp post as you slipped off your heels and began to run to your apartment. This was not how you pictured your night going, running barefoot through New York City in the rain was not the first thing you thought of when you got dressed for your date tonight. You took the back allies and side streets to get to your apartment building, that twenty-minute walk was cut down to eleven minutes. You walked up the flights of stairs to get to your apartment, your breathing was hard and heavy. Your lungs and legs felt like they were on fire. But you finally reached your floor, you walked down the hallway to notice the hooded figure leaning against your door. The huffing and puffing of your breathing alerted the figure of your presence. The water was dripping off you onto the floor as you walked over to your apartment door.

The figure shifted to the right to let you open the door, “You know between you and work I don’t have a social life.”

The figure let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan of pain. “What did you do this time Frank?” you asked opening the door and letting you both inside.

Frank waddled into your apartment and across to the dining table, where he hopped up and laid down. You never had anything on that table due to amount of times Frank visited, it turned into a permeant surgical table. You walked in, closing and locking the door behind you. You walked straight into the small bathroom in your apartment to grab your first aid medical bag. You tossed your heels back toward the front door as you made your way over to Frank. You dropped the bag on the breakfast cart you had and tied your wet hair back into a ponytail.

“So what do I get to patch up today, Frank?” you asked trying to get him to talk.

Frank gave you a side grin, “Stab wound and a few bullet holes.”

“Oh so the usual, will you ever stop getting hurt?” you asked as you pulled a pair of gloves out of the bag.

“Only when you stop going out on dates with people who don’t deserve you,” he responded quickly like it bothered him you went on dates.

Your eyes rolled on their own as a smile tugged on your lips and your cheeks began to feel warm. You turned around to face the man laying on your dining table, scissors in hand and gloves on.

A mischievous smirk played on your lips, “You know the deal, Frank.”

“Do you have to cut my shirt off?” he groaned, even though it sounded more like a whine.

“It’s either I cut it off or rip it off.”

“You know I’d love it if you ripped it off, just as long as I get to rip that dress off you later,” Frank said in a husky voice as he gave you a wink.

“You know, if I’d known any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You said smiling, as you cut up the center of his black shirt. You carefully and slowly opened his shirt to reveal the stab wound to his lower abdomen and a gunshot wound on his right shoulder. You looked over the rest of his upper half not seeing anything else.

“You know we should get an x-ray for that shoulder, could have bone damage” you stated.

“It didn’t go that far in, you just have to pull the bullet out and you know how I feel about doctors.”

“Yeah I know, and yet here you are getting stitched up by a nurse…” you said raising an eyebrow up at him, as you began to clean up the stab wound. It looked worse than it really was, blood tends to make things look worse than they are. The blood around the wound was cleaned off, then you moved to clean the actual wound. You pressed the cotton pad with alcohol on the wound. Frank’s muscles tensed when the pad touched the wound.

“I’m sorry” you whispered softly, “you know I have to.” You continued to clean it up even more gently than before. His eyes stayed shut as he hissed in pain, “I know” his voice strained out softly.

You hated seeing his face distort in pain, but you had to continue to patch him up. You had finished up with the two little stitches the stab wound needed when you covered it in gauze and tape. Next on the list of patchwork was that bullet hole in his shoulder, you took a deep breath going to the kitchen for a wooden spoon that you knew you’d need.

You went to the other side of the table, and up near his shoulder so you could work. You held out the wooden spoon in front of his face, “Here bite down on this” you spoke.

“I’d much rather bite you,” he said with a smirk. The pain he previously felt was no longer evident on his face.

“Just bite the spoon. I don’t want the neighbors to hear you scream just yet,” you replied with a wink.

Frank raised his eyebrow up and gave you a side grin. He made eye contact with you as he bit down on the handle of the wooden spoon. You give a slight eye roll, grabbing your phone for added light. You held tweezers in one hand and your phone in the other with the flashlight on. You tried looking into the hole first with the light in hopes of noticing a glint of the bullet, but no luck. You had to go in blind. You gently as possible insert the tweezers and carefully begin to move them around in hopes of finding the bullet. You look over at Frank and see the pain written across his features, but he isn’t making much noise. You know he is doing his best to remain still so you can work. You finally feel a bit of resistance and you heard a light clint of metal against metal. “Found it” you whispered gently.

You used the tweezers to grab the bullet and began to slowly pull it back out the same way it went in, trying not to damage any more tissue or muscle. The bullet was out, and both you and Frank let out a breath that you both seemed to have been holding. Frank’s jaw tighten back up knowing what was coming next. You showed the light over the hole one last time, making sure there weren’t any fragments of the bullet left lodged in. The bullet seemed in tack though.

“You ready?” you asked grabbing the alcohol and taking a deep breath.

Clenched jaw, eyes screwed shut Frank nodded his head. You poured some alcohol from the bottle into the hole with a grimace expression as the muffled screams of Frank escaped his lips. You glanced over at him, your eyes full of sympathy for the man in front of you. You hated doing this to him, causing him pain but you had to in order to patch him up. You then began to stitch up the hole. Frank’s breathing went back to normal as he pulled the wooden spoon from his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“Why you sorry sweetheart?”

“Cause I’m causing you pain,” your voice replied gently, “and not even the fun kind” you added with a smirk.

Frank let out an exhausted chuckle, “On the contrary there sweetheart, I don’t like it too rough. For example, you in that dress you have on…” he pauses. “I wouldn’t rip it off you…” Frank swallows the lump that sat in his throat. “No, no. I’d take my time. I’d kiss up your arm, across your neck then down across your collarbones all while my hands traveled from your hips up your back to that zipper…” he paused again, as he turned to face you. Your cheeks had turned a shade of red, your hands slightly shook as your heartbeat continued to increase and now you felt a pit in your stomach.

Frank watched your reaction carefully, he noticed the shaky hands and uneven breathing pattern. He knew his words had an effect on you, but he decided that he should let you work. “But I’ll let you finish that story,” he said with a side wink.

You cleared your throat trying to gain back your focus to finish up that last stitch. Then you bandaged up his shoulder. You helped Frank sit back up and you looked him in the eye, “Anything else you need?”

“Yeah… you,” he said casually.

“Besides me, any other injuries?” you asked with a smirk.

“Can you check to see if this bullet grazed my leg or not?” he knew it was just a graze but he wanted to spend more time with you.

“Sure but you know that means I cut your pants,” you stated using your fingers to make a cutting motion.

“Can’t you just take them off instead darling?” Frank pleaded, not wanting to have his pants cut up.

“Alright fine, off the table.”

You helped Frank slip off the table carefully to not rip open any of the stitches you just did. You bit your lip at the man standing in front of you, giving your head a quick shake to focus back on the task. Your hands went towards his waistband with a slight shake in them. You fumbled with the belt and button of his jeans, not due to lack of experience, no it was because it was Frank. After successfully unzipping his pants, you slowly pulled them down. Frank watched your every move carefully, it had been a long time since someone undressed him, let alone someone who looked like you. He did his best to keep his thoughts from traveling, trying not to picture you pinned beneath him on the table he was leaning against. He looked up at the ceiling trying to clear his head, as his pants reached his ankles.

You spoke up, trying not to look up at him now that you were on your knees in front of him, “Whereabouts?”

“Outer right thigh area,” he said monotoned.

“I’m gonna have to move your boxers up.”

“I know,” he gulped.

You took the edge of his boxers in your hand, as you gently pulled it away from his thigh and began to push up. You notice a little blood in the curve of his thigh muscle. Upon further inspection, it seemed to just have been a graze from the bullet. You cleaned up the area and added a small bandage.

“There…” you said clearing your throat, “all done. Unless there is anything else that needs my attention.” You got back to your feet, chest to chest with Frank, giving him a smile.

“Nothing sweetheart,” he said making eye contact and then shifting his gaze down to your lips before bringing it back to your eyes.

Frank thought about what it would be like to kiss you, to undress you the way you did him gently. To have his fingertips brush against your soft skin, just like your soft fingers did; to tell you what he was doing just like you. He found it comforting when you told him what you needed to do, making sure he was okay with everything that was happening. He wished to give you that same comfort. You leaned away from him, as you began to clean up the trash.

You made it into the kitchen where you dropped all the trash into the can as you pulled the used gloves off dropping them in too. You washed up as Frank carefully pulled his pants back on. You turned around to face a shirtless Frank, with his pants hanging loosely around his waist. You watched him, he had always caught you off guard. The beautifully sculpted muscles he had made him look like a Greek god. The scruffy beard that hugged his strong jawline. He was your definition of hot. You tried to not stare too long but Frank noticed as he finished pulling his belt through the last loop, he gave you a smile. He walked over to you, you blinked repeatedly then quickly dropped your face to look towards your kitchen floor. His boots came into your vision, as he placed a fingertip under your chin lifting your face to look up at him. His eyes traveled around your face before landing on your lips, he leaned down towards you slowly. His breath felt warm against your face, and you panicked.

You turned your face out of his path, “Can you unzip me?” you asked, trying to act like you didn’t notice how close you two were to kissing.

He cleared his throat, regathering his thoughts, “Sure.”

Frank brushed your ponytail off to one shoulder as he began to unzip your dress painfully slow. His eyes followed the zipper down your back, stopping just above your hips. He brought his hands back up to the base of your neck to undo the clip. He leaned over your right shoulder, as his hands slid down your arms and gently snaked around your waist.

“Done,” he whispered softly into your ear.

Your heart was pounding hard against your breastbone. You turned your face to meet his, your eyes connected. “Thanks…” you whispered softly. You felt his warm breath fan against your lips. Your eyes drifted down towards his soft-looking lips, then back up to his inviting eyes. You felt the want in the pit of your stomach to lean in and kiss him, but you turned out of his grasp. You looked away and started towards your bedroom.

“I’m gonna change and head to bed.” you said trying to keep a steady voice, “You can stay on the couch if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll head out,” Frank replied in a hardened voice as if he was trying to hold himself together.

You stopped in your tracks at the difference in his voice, you turned back to him. You did your best not to let your voice falter, “Okay, if you need anything you know how to find me.”

Frank turned to look at you when he heard the pads of your feet stop. He looked at you for what felt like forever to him. He watched your lips pull into a soft smile. He simply nodded his head, not trusting his voice anymore. He grabbed his jacket from the table and walked out the door. You watched him, hearing the slight slam of your apartment door.

You continued to walk into your bedroom, slowly closing the door behind you. Back pushed up against the door, you did your best to regain control of your unsteady heartbeat and uneven breathing. Your eyes closed, as images of what just happened swiped through like a movie. You and Frank always teased and flirted while you patched him up, that was nothing new. Your reactions to his flirtatious comments and mannerisms were nothing you weren’t used to. It was how close you two were to kissing, that was new, and new was a bit scary but this was Frank, he made things easy. A long exhale brought you back to reality, you slipped your hand through your tied-back hair. You dropped the dress that had once covered your body to the floor. You slipped into the bathroom and took a warm shower after stepping into a freezing one to clear your thoughts. You got changed into something comfortable for bed, before slipping off to sleep.

The week had gone by with no new visits from Frank, no new text messages, no nothing from the man. But unsurprisingly Robert had asked you out again stating he wanted to finish the date you two started the other night. You had accepted his offer, simply to be kind and in the hope to get the thoughts of Frank out of your mind. Also if you spent the night with Robert it meant you didn’t have to spend it alone with your thoughts.

You were getting ready for the evening, soft music playing through your bedroom. You slipped into a curve-hugging black dress that stopped just above your knee. The sheer black top covered the deep v cut in the solid black material, the sheer also covered the exposed back of the dress. You were reaching for the zipper when a loud knock came on your door. You held the front of the dress against your body as you made your way to the door. The metal of the door handle felt cool as you opened it to come face to face with Frank.

Frank’s eyes widened at you in the dress, he felt his hand ball into a fist as he thought of everyone who get to see you in that dress. He let his eyes wander across your figure, and that dress hugged every inch it covered. He felt his heart stop and start as he tried to pull his eyes up to yours. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking into your eyes.

“Hey Frank,” you said timidly, as you felt slightly self-conscious under his stare.

“Hi sweetheart,” Frank said softly.

“Anything wrong soldier?” you asked trying to gain back the normal confidence you have with him.

“Uhh… nothing physically,” he responded, “Can I come in?”

“Sure” you stepped to the side opening the door more, allowing Frank to slip inside.

As he walked by, you caught the smell of gunpowder, gun oil, and something you couldn’t pinpoint but it was all Frank Castle. You closed the door behind him, as he now stood in the middle of your living space.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not really,” you replied walking past him towards your bedroom, “just getting ready for a date.”

Frank’s eyes followed you to your bedroom, where your voice sang out from. He cleared his throat, “Lucky guy.”

“Yeah, I guess but he is very dull, sadly.”

“Then why go out on a second date?” he questioned as he leaned against your bedroom door frame.

“Cause the first one was interrupted by someone…” you trailed off, glancing over at Frank. He looked really good, leaning against your door frame. Frank was droll-worthy in your personal opinion.

Frank pretended to be shocked, “Who? Me?” he pushed off the door frame walking towards you, “And here I thought I saved you from a dull date.” He said finally towering over you.

You looked up at him with a smile, “You did, but I do owe him a full date to at least try to be less dull than that first one.”

Frank looked down at you, directly into your eyes. “And when do I get my date with you?” he asked softly.

You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth biting down before you felt a wave of shyness rush over you as you looked down towards the ground. You quickly looked back at him with the heat on your cheeks burning your skin, as you looked back into his eyes, “Are you asking me out on a date Frank?”

“Maybe.”

You turned around facing away from him, you gathered your hair to one side, “Can you zip up my dress for me?”

You felt his left hand gently grab your hip as he pulled the zipper up. His warm grip left, leaving your hip cold against the air of your room. His hands found their way to the base of your neck where the clip of the dress was, securing it into place. He let his hands travel across your shoulders, down your arms leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt his warm body pressed up against you, as his hot breath brushed next to your right ear. His husky voice spoke softly, almost like music into your ear, “Done.”

He stepped away from you, his warmth leaving with him. You turned to face him again.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed out, “Have fun tonight. I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”

He gave you his signature smirk, which he reserved only for you. He turned and walked out of your bedroom leaving you to finish getting ready for a date with someone who wasn’t him.

“Frank,” you called out to him.

He stopped in his tracks, “Yeah?”

“Thank you, and don’t change your plans tonight for me,” you spoke, “I’m sure I can find a different date some other night,” you flirted.

Frank’s back was still towards you, so you didn’t get to see the smile that graced his lips as he walked out of your apartment.

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

Taglist:

@uselsshuman

#frank castle #the punisher #the punisher oneshot #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #punisher #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #jon bernthal

571 notes · View notes

cbk1000 · 4 months

Text

So, I have another crazy story about the clinic where I used to work; this time as a patient instead of an employee. Under a cut because it's very long.

So back when I first got really sick, I was in the hospital a few times primarily for really high heart rate. I work out a lot and my normal resting heart rate is in the 60s; back in February I suddenly started getting palpitations, and my heart rate was going up to like 140 bpm just standing at my bathroom sink washing my face. I wore a seven day monitor at one point and my highest recorded heart rate on that was 157 bpm--just shuffling like a zombie around the house. I was also super weak and just felt overall like death.

Hospital runs a bunch of labs and imaging tests and can't find anything that would explain it. The last doc I saw said there was a bright spot on my echocardiogram monitor that could just be flashback from the monitor, but taken with some of my symptoms, he felt OK with a presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis (inflammation of the sac around your heart), especially as the treatment is just high dose ibuprofen for a week, nothing invasive or drastic. I need to follow up with a cardiologist, but I don't have a primary care physician who can refer me to the heart clinic. I had just turned in new patient paperwork at a local clinic so I contacted them to see if I could get in, but they said it would likely be a month before I could be scheduled with anyone.

In the meantime, the ibuprofen isn't working and my condition is getting worse. I have my next period, and after a couple of heavy days, I get even weaker, my heart rate goes even higher, and I get really dizzy all the time. I also am now short of breath just rolling over in bed. I legit feel like I'm dying. Because my symptoms get worse after blood loss, it suddenly pops into my head that about 17 years ago after a blood donation I got really sick, and all my symptoms that I can remember having at the time are the same, especially the cardiac issues. I took iron back then and that resolved it. I started wondering if my iron was low, did a bunch of research into iron deficiency without anemia, and realized every single symptom, including ones I had been having for a while prior to the heart issues (terrible fatigue, brain fog, headaches, sleep disruptions, restless legs at night) could be from low iron.

So I need to get labs done, and also I do still need a referral to make sure my heart is ok. I can't get in with anyone, so out of desperation, I go back to my old clinic because I know they'll get me in quickly. They schedule me an appointment for the next day with a doc who is going to turn out to be batshit crazy.

I go to my appointment with my presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis, and the doctor asks if I had the Covid shot. I tell him yes, but my last booster was in 2021, so not relevant here.

Well boy howdy was I wrong. He launches into a whole-ass rant about how bad the shots are, how many people have been injured by them, tells me I, a formerly very healthy, athletic woman, now have heart issues due to the shot, etc. etc. I say, 'Ok, but would the shot really randomly cause me issues three years later when I was perfectly fine after I got it?' (The answer is no.) Doc stays the course in blaming the shot. I have paperwork I need filled out for medical leave from my job, and he PUTS ON MY PAPERWORK THAT I HAVE TO TURN IN that my cardiac issues came on and progressed after the shot (three YEARS after, you DUMBASS) and that his impression is post vaccine injury. I feel too badly to do much more than sway on the exam table and occasionally interject that I had the shot three years ago and I don't think that's the problem. The majority of my appointment is him ranting about the shots. Whatever, I'm desperate, give me my fucking referral to the cardiologist and order my iron panel.

I get labs done and sure enough, my iron is low. I start supplementing and shortly afterwards get a call from the cardiac clinic; I lucked out and got in just a few days after my referral was sent to them because someone canceled their appointment last minute. I see an ARNP at my first visit and she says the echo I had done at the hospital looks fine to her, but they'll do a seven day monitor, a repeat echocardiogram, and have me follow up with the cardiologist just to make sure they don't miss anything.

So they do this, and in the meantime, after a couple of weeks on iron supplements, I start slowly but steadily feeling a bit better. My fatigue and brain fog that I was having every day improve significantly after only a week on supplements. My dizziness goes away. I feel a tiny bit stronger every day and now can sit up longer and start holding conversations with people. It's slow but steady progress for about three weeks: and then I get my period again. It doesn't knock me back to square one, but I definitely take a couple of steps back in my recovery. It's a little lighter this time, though, which is a good sign.

I follow up with the cardiologist. He says actually my heart is in really good shape; no signs of pericarditis or anything wrong with it; my high heart rate isn't due to a cardiac issue. Cool. I didn't think so at this point, but good to hear I don't have heart issues.

So I go back to follow up with my doc and plan to ask to really focus on the iron issue since the cardiologist confirmed my heart is fine. I have come a long ways but am still mostly bedridden; it is very slow to get your levels up on iron supplementation, and every time I get my period, it sets me back a little. Maybe some low dose iron infusions would help boost my levels so my recovery doesn't go backwards on account of me bleeding for a week every few weeks.

Doc comes in the room. He is clearly Not Happy cardiology did not confirm his conspiracy theories about the shot injuring me. I tell him about the symptoms I have seen improve and even resolve after about six weeks on iron supplements, and how I think most if not all of my problems are from low iron. He pretty much completely ignores this. He asks me if my fatigue and brain fog have improved. I say, yes, they were some of the first symptoms to improve after I started taking iron. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me he thinks I have a combination of chronic fatigue syndrome and POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) caused by the shot. I remind him I just told him my fatigue had improved a lot since starting iron. And my heart rate is coming down too and not spiking as much, my issue is that every period after I've been improving, I suddenly get a little worse again. He ignores this. He tells me he is going to refer me to the neurologist to check for chronic fatigue and POTS. Ok, whatever, I'm pretty sure I don't have those things, but fine, have another specialist tell you you're wrong.

After about eight weeks on supplements, I really feel like I'm starting to turn a corner. I don't feel normal, but my heart rate has come down quite a bit, I can stand and walk around a lot longer without feeling like I'm going to pass out, and I feel the closest to normal that I have been in months.

And then I get my period again and my heart rate goes back up. I'm super frustrated at this point because I was So Close to being a functioning human again, so I decide to push for a low dose iron infusion. I just want to boost my levels high enough to get me over this hump so every period doesn't set me back right as I feel like I'm coming back to life. I've read lots of papers on iron deficiency without anemia (meaning your hemoglobin is normal) and decide to make an appointment armed with one paper in particular which was written by a doctor who has been treating iron deficiency for decades, and which lays out really comprehensively the numbers at which patients should be considered deficient based on their labs and symptoms, what numbers you should shoot for when treating the iron deficiency (I am higher now but still quite a ways away from the goal), and also lists a bunch of symptoms women in particular have reported that have resolved with iron treatment. I highlight all the symptoms on the list that I have had, as well as other sections particularly relevant to my specific case. (Spoiler alert: I did not even give him the paper.)

So I go to my appointment and he asks if I've heard from the neurologist yet. I say no, I'm sure it will be a while (there's only one in town, and I'm sure it takes a long time to get in). In the meantime, I really want to focus on getting my iron levels up. I lay everything out: all the improvements I've seen, how my period keeps setting me back, and how I want to try just a low 100mg infusion to boost me up so I don't take two steps back every time I get my period. He tells me I have chronic fatigue and POTS as a result of the Evil Shot. I tell him, once again, that my fatigue has greatly improved on iron supplements. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me a local doctor is being PERSECUTED and PROSECUTED for prescribing Ivermectin for Covid. Ok, that doesn't relate to my personal medical issues that we are here to discuss, and also, Ivermectin is not approved for the treatment of Covid. I ask him again if I can get a low dose infusion. I understand insurance probably won't cover it, that's fine, I can pay out of pocket, I just need him to order it. He tells me he personally takes Ivermectin. Good for you. Again, not related to my medical issues that I am here to dicuss.

I mention that I have had restless legs at night for a long time, because I know this at least is commonly associated with low iron, maybe that will get his attention; nope. He totally ignores me again. I even try blaming the shot for low iron (sorry, Covid vaccine, sometimes you have to take one for the team). I say I have read Covid and maybe even the shot can deplete your iron; maybe the shot did this to my iron. No dice. (Mr. Jenn did applaud me for trying when I told him about it, though.)

He starts in about my POTS again. I say, ok, but POTS is a postural issue, right? He says, yes! I say, ok, then if I have an issue where my nervous system doesn't regulate my blood flow properly when I change from sitting to standing, why is my resting heart rate way higher than normal when I'm just lying in bed doing nothing, and why has my heart rate been coming down and is not spiking like it was after several weeks on iron supplements until I get my period? I'm not sure that fits with POTS.

He again does not even acknowledge I've spoken.

I ask again for an infusion to help boost me up so I'm not set back every period. He says as long as I'm menstruating it will set me back. Yes, I am aware I will lose more iron on my period, what I am asking is that while I am in ACTIVE CLINICAL IRON DEFICIENCY can we please do something to speed up getting my levels high enough so every time I bleed it doesn't knock me down again. He asks if I have considered a hysterectomy or uterine ablation for the bleeding (you know, invasive surgeries, instead of talking about birth control pills, which he didn't even mention). I said that was kind of extreme and I didn't want to consider that right now. I ask him about the infusion again. He says it's not a concern. I say, yeah, it is, I am having debilitating symptoms that have left me bedridden for three months. I need to get back to my life and my job. He tells me Congress is investigating the shots and it will come out how bad they are, but a lot of people won't believe it. I say, well, that's Congress' business, can I please have an infusion. He tells me insurance won't cover it. I say I know, I already mentioned that earlier (while you were ignoring me in favor of ranting about a vaccine I had three years ago), I have a health savings account, I can pay out of pocket. He tells me he's pretty sure I have chronic fatigue and POTS but we'll see what the neurologist says. I need to call and see if I can get in more quickly with the neurologist. I say, ok, in the meantime, since realistically it could take months for me to get in with the neurologist, can I PLEASE HAVE A FUCKING INFUSION. He tells me if I want one I will have to badger another doctor into it. (I can't remember the exact word he used, but the way he worded it made it sound like I was trying to bully him. No, you jackass, I am asking for an extremely common, low risk medical treatment for issues that have left me unable to work or leave my house for anything other than doctor's appointments for THREE MONTHS.)

So I left incredibly frustrated, needless to say.

Next day Mr. Jenn goes to his appointment at the clinic I initially tried to get into to follow up on labs he had done for an annual physical, and his doctor tells him his cholesterol is slightly high, but not enough to be concerned, he just needs to watch his saturated fats and red meat intake. Mr. Jenn tells him we've actually temporarily increased our red meat intake because of my health issues. He then mentions all of the issues I've been having, my lab results, and how I've improved a lot on supplements, but keep getting set back by my period. His doctors goes, 'Have you guys looked into infusions for her? You should try that.'

I DID BUT MY DOCTOR IS CRAZY.

Mr. Jenn explains that I had asked for an infusion and my doctor refused. His doctor gives him a weird look and wants to know why. Mr. Jenn explains it's because he's super set on it being chronic fatigue and POTS and won't consider anything else even though my 'chronic fatigue' and 'POTS' symptoms have both improved on iron supplements. The doctor again gives him a weird look and asks why he's stuck on those diagnoses and won't consider iron deficiency.

Because he's crazy, good sir.

Mr. Jenn's doctor then suggests we see if I can self-refer for an infusion and just pay out of pocket, but you need a doctor's order even if you're not going through insurance, so the next day when the clinic opens, I call, explain I tried to establish care there earlier so they have my new patient paperwork, but that I needed an urgent referral, and had to go somewhere else because they were a month out, but I really (REALLY) want to change doctors, is <Mr. Jenn's doc> taking new patients? He is not, but they'll put in a note with one of the ARNPs accepting new patients to see if they're willing to schedule me.

However, I know the new manager of the clinic (actually an old coworker from the crazy clinic that I'm friendly with), so the other day I texted her, briefly explained the situation, and she asked which doctor I wanted to see and said she'll talk to him when he's back from the long holiday weekend and see if he would be willing to see me. She will let me know later this week (he's not back in till Wednesday). So fingers crossed I can get in with a non-lunatic soon.

#personal

24 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Running from the Flames {11}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral (both receiving) - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || under construction

My body was on fire with need when Pierre laid me down on his bed, leaving me there for a moment to kick his jeans off into the corner of the room and close the door. He moved tantalisingly slowly as he stalked his way back and I sat up, rising onto my knees to meet him in the middle of the bed.

His eyes trailed over my body and I had never felt more beautiful and seen, until he reached my thighs where my shorts had bunched up.

The flames were smothered with a metaphorical bucket of cold water and I pulled the material back into place as I looked away from him.

“Hey,” Pierre said softly as he climbed the bed and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his and drawing them away from my shorts. “You don’t need to hide anything from me, mon ange.”

I still couldn’t look him in the eyes, “They’re hideous.”

“No, they are a part of you and every part of you is beautiful. Let me see all of you.” His fingers brushed the hem of my camisole and I swallowed as I closed my eyes and nodded.

The air kissed my skin as he pulled my singlet over my head and I heard the sharp intake of his breath. “Beautiful,” he whispered with wonder and my eyes fluttered open to see the sincerity on his face.

His arms cradled me as we fell back against the sheets, words of affirmation tumbling from his lips between the kisses he left across my body. Wherever he touched goosebumps and heat followed but when his tongue lashed across my nipple I saw stars and a needy whine filled the air.

The sound spurred him on and sealed his mouth over my breast, sucking and teasing one before moving to the other. I was squirming beneath him with an ache in my core and I thought I would combust if he didn’t touch me there.

“Please, Pierre,” I mewled as I locked my legs around his waist and rolled my hips trying to ease the need with the friction his body could offer.

“Patience, ma cherie.”

A throaty groan of impatience escaped me and he chuckled as he unhooked my legs and kissed a line down from the valley of my breast to my navel. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts and he paused as he looked up at me from beneath his lashes, giving me time to change my mind but I was ready to go all in and placed my hands over his pushing the material down with him as I laid myself bare.

Shock, horror and anger flitted across his face as he saw up close the damage I had been subjected to. I could hardly breathe as his trembling fingers reached out and traced the scars ever so softly, like he was afraid his touch would hurt me.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” I whispered, the light touch almost ticklish.

His eyes held a depth of emotion that made me pause and he held that contact with me as he softly kissed the ruined skin. “You deserve gentle.”

I fell back amongst the pillows when his kiss turned hungry once again and I spread my legs to give him the access we both desired.

The heat of his breath was almost enough to make me come but then his tongue ran through my folds and found my clit and I swore as my back arched off the bed. My heart threatened to beat out of my chest and all I could hear was the pulsing of the blood rushing around my head.

“Oh god, Pierre,” I moaned, lacing my fingers in his hair as he brought me to the edge of bliss.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling so good, not even the toys I had bought could elicit a response like this and I felt like I was floating away from my body.

My body shuddered beneath his ministrations and when he curled two fingers into me, I was lost. My mind was free for the first time in years, completely empty of all thoughts except for the man in front of me who was licking my release from his fingers.

My legs barely worked but I was determined to have a taste of my own and Pierre let me push him back into the pillows. “My turn.”

He looked delicious as he laid across the cream-coloured bedspread, the colour deepening his golden tan from hours spent outdoors. I couldn’t even coax myself to believe it was some trick of my mind or a dream because my imagination could never have created this perfect image before me.

I took my time as he had, exploring the planes and dips of his muscles with my hands, feeling the soft curls of hair below his navel. I followed the line down to where they disappeared into the waistband of his Calvin Kleins and my breath caught at the sight of his erection straining against the material.

He lifted his hips for me so I could free him and the last piece of clothing between us was thrown haphazardly to the floor with the rest. I nearly bit through my lip as his cock sprung free and I found it as mouth watering as the rest of him.

God he was so hard, but the silken skin sliding smoothly in my palm felt so soft, my brain almost couldn’t comprehend everything I was feeling especially when he moaned deeply and urged me to stroke him more.

My hand worked him slowly, teasing his pleasure until a bead of precum pooled at the tip and I dipped my head down to lap it up with my tongue. He tasted salty and sweet, with a hint of musk and shower gel too, and I hummed my approval before I wrapped my lips around him and took him in my mouth.

Pierre’s hand bunched into my hair pulling the dark tresses away from my face and I rolled my eyes up to watch him watch me. Satisfaction was written on his face with glazed eyes and his lips parted with a moan as his hand tightened in my hair. His breathing quickened when I hollowed my cheeks and my nails dug into his thighs as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

The hand in my hair tugged against me, stopping my rhythm, and I swirled my tongue around his head, pressing it along the slit at the tip, before pulling away with a pout.

“Mon dieu,” he choked, teetering on the edge of his orgasm, “je veux te baiser.” (French: My god, I want to fuck you.)

I wiped a hand across my swollen lips that were slick with my saliva. “Je veux te faire jouir.” (French: I want to make you cum.)

“Then come here,” he growled as he sat up and pulled me across his lap. “Are you on birth control?”

I nodded and planted my hand on his chest as I felt him press at my entrance. “Are you clean?”

“Of course, it’s part of the medicals for the races.” I had known that piece of information but it had slipped my mind until he reminded me. “I can go buy condoms if you want?”

The thought of hitting pause at this moment was more than distasteful for me and I shook my head as I ran my hands down his chest and shifted my hips. We both moaned in sync as I impaled myself on his length, the fullness taking my breath away in the best way possible.

“I need a moment,” I admitted when I bottomed out and I balanced on a delicate knife edge between pleasure and pain at the stretch of my body around him.

His teeth bit his bottom lip and his fingers gripped my hips like he was struggling to control himself. “You’re so fucking tight.”

I slowly eased up and down as I adjusted to his size before moving faster, rolling my hips with his hands to guide me.

Pierre sat up and we moved together, chest to chest, lips to lips. He was everywhere, surrounding me with his embrace. He was the very air I drew deep into my body, and I was greedy for more as I locked my legs around his waist and let him roll over to cage me beneath him completely.

The switch in positions changed the angle and his cock dragged over that perfect spot inside me and had me begging for more with every thrust. Liquid fire spread through my belly then across my skin and my head fell back with a cry of ecstasy.

“Please, don’t stop,” I pleaded as the heat spread and my toes curled before lightning struck. Every nerve ending exploded and stars danced around my vision as I came with his name on my lips.

“Fuck,” Pierre moaned in my ear as he buried his face in my neck and shuddered as my quivering walls milked his own release that he had been holding back. “I can’t believe how good you feel.”

“Me too.” My voice was a little weak as our hearts crashed against our chests and we slowly regained our breath in each other’s arms.

“Do you think you can get away with sleeping in here?”

I thought about it for a moment, weighing the odds up before deciding Addie would probably sleep through the night and not even notice I wasn’t in bed with her. “I’m sure I’ll hear her if she does wake up. We might just need to open the door in case she tries to find me.”

Pierre kissed me with a smile before collapsing onto the bed beside me and lacing our fingers together, holding them over his chest, and I hooked my leg over his. We lay there in a comfortable silence while my limbs remembered how to work and we shared our body heat so we didn’t have to separate and get under the blankets.

I reluctantly pulled away with a sigh as I felt his seed leaking from me and knew I needed to clean up before we could hop into bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a pout as I left the warmth of his arms.

“To shower,” I replied as I made my way to his ensuite, stopping at the doorway to look back at him and wink, “you coming?”

Click here for chapter twelve.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife

#pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly smut #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

169 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

Note

Requests are open?! Heck yes! I saw you write for fullmetal alchemist and wondered if you could do a one-shot Riza Hawkeye x Reader (they/them) with the both of them being deployed to the Ishval Civil War. At some point during the battle, she loses them from her sight and never sees them again, even after the battle ends. A few years later, they meet again when they are pursuing Scar but stumble upon her. Hope you'll have fun writing this! Love your writing ❤️ take care

When the Dust Settled

Riza Hawkeye x They/Them Reader

A/N: So happy to be doing an FMA request. I do realize now that I’m reading through the request again, I misread who was looking for Scar and who was getting stumbled upon and I think that changed the whole plot of the fic. Hope you still enjoy it! Word Count: 3,458

“Hawkeye… Hawkeye, hey.”

Riza didn’t blink, but she did come to from her hyper-focused fog.

“Yeah?”

“I got your lunch. Put the rifle down and sit up, relax for a few minutes. You’ve been on watch for hours.”

Riza slowly clicked the safety on and lowered her rifle. With a bit of a wince, she sat up, making sure her body was covered by the raised wall of the building they were occupying. She hadn’t realized how stiff she was until just then. She finally looked up at the soldier sitting cross-legged in front of her and managed a tired smile. (Y/n) gave her one of their own and wiggled the two brown paper sacks in their hands before passing one off to her.

They had often eaten their meals together since this godless war began. It was one of the only moments from day to day life that almost made them feel like they were normal people. Well, as long as they ignored the blaring heat of Ishval, the ever present smell of blood, and occasional gun fire in the distance. The ever-present grit of sand.

“What are you gonna do after the war, Riza?” (Y/n) asked after they had gotten through about half of their rationed meal.

“I don’t know,” Riza answered after taking a few sips of warm water, “It’s hard to imagine this war will ever end. How about you? You must have a plan.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” They grinned and Riza rolled her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then.” She smiled, resting her chin against her fist.

“I haven’t worked all the finer details out yet, but I’m gonna help people. I’m gonna take my pay at the end of this and make something that can help struggling people for years to come. Maybe a public garden or a library with a bunch of programs and resources, a school or something like that,” their smile dimmed, “Something that creates instead of destroys.”

Riza straightened out her leg to tap her boot against their’s, “Well, I think that’s a really nice idea. I’m sure you’ll go far.”

“Thanks,” they gave Riza an appreciative look, “and if you don’t ever figure out where you wanna be after this. I could always use your sharp eyes and a helping hand.”

Riza felt her heart swell, “That sounds—“

BOOM!

The building shook and quickly began to crumble below them before another deafening explosion went off. The roof began to collapse in on itself as the concrete crumbled away into the smoke and flames.

“Shit! What’s going on?!” (Y/n) pitched forward and linked an arm over the lip of the wall, holding up Riza with the other as she scrambled to do the same.

They watched in horror as the middle of the roof caved and rubble slid and crunched as the foundation failed. Their legs were suddenly dangling in open air as the building continued to collapse.

Riza’s grip began to slip. Looking down at the billowing smoke and flame, she wondered if this would be her end, but (Y/n) caught her by the wrist before she could fall into the crevice, she looked up to (Y/n)’s strained face and the pale blue sky with billowing smoke like clouds.

“Don’t let go!” (Y/n) yelled over the screams, explosions and gun fire. “Hold on, I’ll swing you up!”

“(Y/n), you can’t.” Riza’s voice was strained, “You’re slipping.”

“Come on,” they put on a smile that looked more like a grimace, “don’t give up on me!”

Riza flung her other arm up to grasp (Y/n)’s and they braced themself, grunting with the exertion of working up a swinging motion. With one last mighty heave, Riza was flung up and over the sinking wall, more like a crumbling concrete floor at this point.

“Quick, grab my hand!” Riza reached out to take (Y/n)’s hand again and bring them up over the top of the wall as well, but just as their fingers brushed, the edge of the wall (Y/n) had been clinging to broke away and (Y/n) slipped through Riza’s fingers.

Riza’s scream was lost over chaos and she watched helplessly as (Y/n) tumbled into the giant fissure that had split the building. They had fallen out of sight in an instant.

Riza felt the building buckle again, trying not to think about the floors below being crushed with more and more weight… a particularly bad jolt occurred, forcing the caved roof to fall several more floors. Riza smacked her head hard against the concrete, falling unconscious as the smoke and sand billowed around her.

***

When Riza opened her eyes, she found herself in a medical tent. The groans and whimpers the soldiers could be heard all around her.

“Hawkeye, are you lucid?”

Her eyes flickered to the side, finding Roy Mustang mirroring the war-hardened eyes she possessed right back at her.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. You got a nasty head wound, some cuts and bruises, but the doctor says you’ll be okay. You were lucky you were on the roof.”

“The roof… (Y/n),” Riza attempted to sit up, but Roy kept her down, “(Y/n) fell, are they alright? Please, you have to tell me!”

Roy gave Riza a sorrowful look, “Haven’t found them yet. They’re still pulling soldiers from the wreckage, but the way the building collapsed, there’s no way to scour the whole site without jeopardizing more lives. I’m sorry, but it’s not looking good either way.”

“I can’t believe the Ishvalans would go this far…”

Roy sighed mournfully, “It wasn’t them.”

“What...?”

“It was friendly fire. Apparently the news that the building had been seized hadn’t reached the platoon responsible. It’s all a mess.”

Riza closed her eyes for a brief moment, willing her heart not to break, “I understand.”

“I’m sorry, Hawkeye,” Roy stood from his seat when he saw Hughes wave him over from the front of the tent, “I really am.”

“Me too.” Riza murmured as he walked away. She closed her eyes again, willing the burning sensation to go away.

In the end, (Y/n)’s body had been declared unrecoverable, and a few months later, the war had ended. Riza stood in front of the wreckage as soldiers were loaded into those heavy tactical vehicles back to Central, taking one last look at the final resting place they would forever be entombed within. It just wasn’t fair.

“They don’t belong here.” Riza had whispered.

“I don’t think any of us did.” Roy responded. “The last vehicle is loading.”

Riza nodded, but before she joined Roy and the convoy, she crouched in front of the rubble and placed the desert blossom she had found atop the hot stone. She then got up and left, not once looking back because it would simply be much too painful.

***

Four Years Later

“Ow!” (Y/n) exclaimed, “It wouldn’t kill you to be little more gentle, or at least give a warning!”

“Quit crying, in case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t exactly a cushy Central City hospital.” The doctor grunted, snapping the last connector in place. “Your own fault for picking fights.”

“Hey, those guys started it. Like I was gonna just stand there and let them harass Rick like that.”

“Still gotta be careful though, I’m no mechanic and I’m barely a doctor. That arm’ll be scrap before long if I have to be the one to keep trying to fix it.”

(Y/n) flexed their metal fingers experimentally and they seemed to respond well enough. “Hey, for now it’s perfect. Thanks old man.” They hopped off of the table and jogged to the open flap of the canvas tent.

“Where are you off to now? You should take it easy for a couple minutes at least, let your arm settle.”

“Nah, I have to help with the garden. The raccoons have been trying to tear everything up so we’re building a fence. Can’t let all that planting go to waste!” (Y/n) called over their shoulder before completely exiting the tent.

As fate would have it, (Y/n) had survived the building collapse during the Ishvalan War by the skin of their teeth. They had been crushed below the rubble for a number of days, fading in and out of consciousness. Their blips between sleeping and waking became longer and longer and they found themself wondering when they would awaken for the last time, but the next time they had opened their eyes, they found themself on a cot covered in dingy bandages and one less arm to their name, a name they had a hard time remembering at the moment.

Amnesia, the Ishvalan who had cut them free explained. Even to this day they had a difficult time remembering their past. All they knew for certain from their bloody and torn clothes was their name and that they had been an Amestrian soldier.

As they were slowly fed information about what had been going on around them, they could not understand why those good people had bothered to save them at all. Apparently they had snuck some food to some Ishvalan children on a few occasions and that had played a major role in the rescue efforts.

It had been suggested they find and rejoin their platoon to try to regain more of their memories, but they refused. How they had ever ended up fighting in this awful war, they couldn’t comprehend. They decided they were better off not knowing who they had been before the collapse and after they had healed enough to begin walking on their own, they did everything they could to give back to the Ishvalans who had saved their life.

Now four years after the Civil War, they found themself building up the slums of East City, trying to make life easier for all the refugees that lived there.

They had only just begun pounding stakes into the ground when the whispers began. Apparently the military was sniffing around. They were looking for the scarred Ishvalan that had been in their care days ago. He was long gone now, they wouldn’t find anything and would move on before long. They would all just needed to play nice until then.

“Excuse me.” An oddly familiar voice called.

“Yeah?” (Y/n) didn’t turn around, opting to finish staking the post instead of facing the soldier behind them.

“We are searching for an Ishvalan man of a tall, muscular build with a large, ‘x’ shaped scar across his face. He also has a tattoo that runs around his right arm. Have you seen anyone that fits that description?”

“Hmm, nope. Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

“He’s a very dangerous man. A murderer. You aren’t doing anyone any favors if you are hiding him.”

(Y/n) frowned, but did not waiver, instead they grabbed another post only for it to slip through their fingers when their prosthetic didn’t grip it properly.

“Here, I’ll get that for you.” They heard the soldier say.

She moved to crouch before them and when she reached for the post, she froze, a quiet gasp leaving her lips.

“…(Y/n)?”

They finally met the soldier’s eye. Something about her was very familiar, but their brain couldn’t quite grasp it, but it was clear to them that this blonde, brown-eyed soldier definitely knew them.

“You’re… it’s you, your alive… how?”

Riza didn’t think she should believe it at first, but she would know that face anywhere, it had haunted her nightmares and and pleasant dreams alike.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you come back?” She asked, getting more heated with each question, taking (Y/n) aback when they saw the raw emotion she displayed.

Riza reached out and grabbed the collar of their shirt, “Say something!”

“I don’t know you!” (Y/n) blurted, then back peddled, “I mean, you seem familiar, but I don’t remember you. I don’t remember a lot from before the collapse. Sorry.”

Riza started openly at (Y/n), her mouth slightly agape. Her eyes snapped down to the bare-bones automail arm that encased her quivering fist.

“Can you let go, please?”

It took all of Riza’s will power to do just that.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled.

“Hey, uh, it’s okay.” (Y/n) felt compelled to comfort the woman, “This is kinda a lot to take in I’m sure.”

Riza nodded mutely, unable to take her eyes off of them in fear that they would disappear after a single blink. (Y/n) felt rather drawn to her as well, trying to understand just where she had fit into their life besides being comrades on the wrong side of the war.

“Lieutenant, find anything?”

Both (Y/n) and Riza startled slightly from the addition of a new voice. Riza reluctantly turned and (Y/n) peered around her shoulder to size-up the soldier walking towards them. He sparked something in their brain too.

“Colonel,” Riza had begun to speak,

“Well I’ll be damned.” Roy breathed, “Second Lieutenant (L/n), you have some explaining to do.”

(Y/n) did not appreciate his tone, “Hey, I just told your friend here that I don’t know you people, nor do I owe you anything. My memory may be foggy but I clearly remember the people who saved me, and none of them were either of you.”

Roy bristled and stepped forward, but Riza blocked him off, giving him a warning glare. She could tell the locals around them were getting antsy watching this prolonged interaction.

“If I had even the smallest inkling that you were alive, I would have worked my hands to the bone to remove every slab piece by piece by myself if I had to.” She murmured, the sentiment tugged at (Y/n)’s heart. They must have been very close back then.

“So,” she cleared her throat, “you haven’t seen who we’re looking for, alright then. We will be on our way then. However, may I ask you one last thing?”

(Y/n) gave a brief nod, curious, “Shoot.”

Riza paused briefly when (Y/n) answered her in such a familiar way. Once upon a time a reference to her sharp shooting skills. They probably hadn’t said it on purpose, but it gave Riza hope that perhaps one day they would remember her and all they had been through together.

“Can I talk to you again sometime? I’d like to know more about what happened, what you’ve been up to. Would that be okay?”

(Y/n) knew they didn’t owe the woman anything, but again, their mind was grasping at something they couldn’t quite reach and they felt like this woman held the key. “…I suppose. Maybe leave the uniform at home though, the military presence kind of stresses everyone out.”

“Of course.”

“Well then, I guess we’re done here.” Roy grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, Lieutenant. We still have work to do.”

“Right.” Riza was mildly annoyed with the Colonel, but he was right. She had to be professional, Scar was still out there. “I’ll come by in a few days, (Y/n).”

“I’ll be here, Hawkeye.”

“Riza, call me Riza.”

“Riza,” (Y/n) nodded to themself, “Okay Riza, see you later.”

Riza’s lips twitched into a small smile and then she followed Roy back to the car. When they got in, Roy sighed.

“Just be careful, Lieutenant. If the wrong people from the military figure out they survived and never returned to duty, they could be imprisoned for desertion. Not to mention they aren’t the same person you once knew. Don’t let nostalgia overpower your logic.”

“Are you lecturing me, Colonel?” Riza glared.

“Not at all.” Roy smirked. “Just some friendly advice.”

“With all due respect, sir. You can keep your advice to yourself unless asked.”

Roy shrugged and the car drove off.

***

“Easy, Hayate…” Riza cautioned the dog as he excitedly pulled against his leash to survey the area.

Riza felt strangely nervous coming back to visit (Y/n). Without her uniform to hide within, she had changed the outfit she was going to wear out at least three times. She usually didn’t care about such things, but this felt different. Even now she was wondering if she should have worn her hair up as usual instead of down. Why was she second guessing everything?

She noticed a pair of Ishvalan children peering over at Black Hayate with big, excited eyes and smiled.

“He’s friendly if you want to come pet him.”

The children shyly approached, giggling when Hayate licked their fingers. As they visited, Riza took the chance to look around. The East City Slums were an infamous eyesore if you asked the city officials, but honestly Riza had seen worse. The Ishvalan refugees were building from the ground up. Worse than that, building up from the devastation of war.

“Riza, hello.”

Riza turned, finding (Y/n) walking towards her. She found herself wondering how many visits it would take before the surprise would wear off.

“(Y/n), hello, thank you for seeing me.”

“No trouble. Rick, Rio, go help your grandpa for me, will you? He’s trying to rearrange the library again.”

“Ugh, okay…”

“Bye, Hayate!”

The boys ran off, leaving Riza and (Y/n) alone. Riza swallowed under the scrutiny of (Y/n)’s eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Hm? No, I don’t think so.” (Y/n) shook themself out of it, rubbing the back of their neck. “I just thought you had shorter hair for some reason.”

“I used to,” Riza lit up a bit, perhaps (Y/n) was starting to remember, “I wore it short when we knew each other. I met a girl a couple years ago with long hair and I thought it looked nice so I decided to try growing mine out.”

“Ah, well it does look really nice.” (Y/n) searched for anything more to add or talk about, but came up short. Such was the trouble with memory loss. Their well of stories wasn’t very deep. “Um, cute dog you have there.”

“Thank you.”

…

Yeah, this was awkward. But Riza managed to save it after a minute of weirdly loud silence.

“So you said you have a library here?”

“Surprising, huh?”

“I didn’t mean—“

“Nah, it’s fine. I get it. It’s definitely not anything amazing, but it’s a start. We’ve been working on building this place up. Of course, when you don’t have the funds, the projects go slow, but I think it makes these little victories all the more sweeter.”

Riza chuckled, earning an inquisitive look that was possibly bordering on being insulted.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just… at your core, you’re the same person after all. During the war, you often talked about how you were going to help people once it was over.”

“Huh.” (Y/n) acknowledged, because they really didn’t know what to say. It was kind of comforting, they supposed. At least they hadn’t been the complete monster they had feared they might have been. But still… why fight that war at all?

“Even your reasoning for joining the military was honorable. You always sent most of what you earned back home to your family.”

“…And what happened to them after everyone thought I was dead?” They asked softly, almost a whisper.

“They received compensation after it was determined you had been killed in action. I still check in on them every year, but they are doing well. They still feel your absence acutely, but they take it one day at a time.”

“I’m kind of awful, huh? I always wondered if I had a family, but I didn’t look very hard.”

“No, not at all. You went through a very traumatic event. You shouldn’t feel so bad. Besides… when you feel comfortable, if you’re up for it, I would be happy to take you to them. They would probably be better at helping you regain your memories than I would anyway.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t even know this much without you. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Riza managed a small smile. (Y/n) had always shut down any negative words she might have said in the past.

“Come on, the city has a nice park not too far from here. I’m sure your puppy will enjoy it. I’ll get you lunch too.“

“That sounds really nice, but I’ll be the one getting you lunch today and that’s final.”

“Okay, jeez,” (Y/n) chuckled, putting their hands out defensively, “I won’t fight you on it, put out that fire in your eyes… why is it so important to you?”

Riza’s smile broadened just a bit more, remembering those small moments of peace with brown paper bags and cloudless blue skies. She hoped (Y/n) would remember those moments too one day. Somehow, someway, everything would work out in the end. It was a rare moment of optimism for Riza, a feeling without any hard evidence to back it up, but she embraced the feeling.

“I’m returning a favor long overdue.”

#fma x reader #fma oneshots #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist oneshots #riza x reader #riza hawkeye x reader #requests #anonymous

104 notes · View notes

lesbianrobin · 2 years

Text

lesbianrobin fic scraps #1: kaleidoscope

(the first in what may or may not be a series of abandoned WIPs that i share because maybe someone will still enjoy them or get inspired <3 no context baby figure it out)

"Are you, like, really itchy too, or is that just me?"

Robin squirms as she sips at her Coke, kicking her legs lazily back and forth as they lounge on the food court countertop.

Steve has been feeling a lot of shit in the past few hours, so it hadn't really registered among the various throbbing pains and stabbing pains and warm, sticky blood, but now that Robin mentions it he's suddenly terribly itchy. "Yeah, actually. Think it's the drugs?"

"Or forty-eight hours of sweating in polyester."

Steve frowns. "I have an undershirt. Don't you have an undershirt?"

Robin furrows her brow. "Why would I have an undershirt?"

"Because of the polyester."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, it didn't do you much good, did it? We're both itchy."

Robin suddenly goes still, eyes widening. She turns away from the spectacle of their ragtag band of nerds preparing for battle to look Steve in the eye.

"Steve," she says.

"...Yeah?"

She smiles, and fuck, Steve loves her smile. He can love her smile as a friend, right? It's not weird. He loves Dustin's smile, too.

Her eyes have a manic energy. "We're both itchy."

Oh. Oh, holy shit.

"Oh, holy shit," Steve says.

His brain isn't working too quickly right now. Sue him.

"Where's yours?"

"On my back," and Robin's yanking his shirt up.

"Turn around, turn around, oh my god," she urges, trails her ice-cold fingers across his skin, and they gasp in unison.

"Holy shit," Robin whispers.

"How's it look?"

"I…" Her voice wobbles. "Well, I can't be sure, because I think some of it's bruising, but, uh…"

Jesus, her hands are cold. From the can of Coke, he figures. If only she'd press her freezing fingers to the worst of his aches. As it is, she only grazes over his skin, maybe afraid of hurting him, maybe afraid of touching him so intimately.

"It's a little bit of everything," Robin says, "It's… It's your whole back, Steve, like, even…" She tugs his shirt up higher, until it's all bunched around his neck, and Steve slips his arms out of the sleeves and lets the ruined sailor shirt hang around his neck like a scarf.

"Even your shoulders."

Robin's less afraid here. She presses her hand against his right shoulder blade, and the itching sensation ceases at her touch.

"But, shit, you should probably see, like, a real doctor if the flesh monster doesn't get us, because you're so bruised up. Shit, look at mine, though, what's mine?"

They shuffle awkwardly atop the counter, Steve unable to hold back an embarrassing groan at the ache in his abdomen. Robin is already pulling her own shirt up, almost off of her head, and Steve can see her bra (and it's just that plain tan color, no cute patterns or anything, but the sight of it makes Steve feel warm somehow, like when he first saw Nancy's teddy bear or Dustin's little collection of oddly-shaped dice), so he reaches out and grabs at Robin's shirt before she can yank it off entirely, pulling it down to cover her chest.

"Jesus Christ, Rob, there's thirteen year old boys here. And that creepy guy in the tank top."

"Right, sorry," she laughs, "That's, like, unfair, though."

Steve shrugs. "I mean, you can take it off if you want, but I figured I'd remind you."

"No, yeah, you're right." She pulls her legs up and crosses them, turning her back to Steve. "Here, you do it, I'll hold the front down."

He pushes her shirt up slowly.

Even with only an inch of skin showing above her shorts, Steve sees the colors. Each inch of skin reveals a dozen new shades, and Steve can't help pushing her shirt up as high as he can, because the colors spread from her hips up to her shoulders, and it's like…

"What is it?"

"...It's a little bit of everything," he settles on.

"We match," Robin breathes, and Steve should let her put her shirt down now, but he keeps the polyester bunched up by her shoulders, because he's never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"I didn't know they could be like this."

Steve has never been artistic. He took art classes all through elementary school, though, and he took Beginner Art freshman year as an elective because he figured it would be an easy A, and he could barely draw a straight line, but he loved the watercolors because they let him dream about soulmarks. His favorite thing was just letting little droplets of different colors fall from his brush to his paper and watching how they'd seep across the blank surface, eventually meeting one another and mixing to create dark purples and greens and, quite often, browns, but he never had any colors of his own, and he liked to look at the paper and dream about how those colors might one day stain his skin forever. When their teacher let them do whatever they wanted, he'd always make some watercolor mess in the corner while the artsy kids did real work.

Robin's skin is the most incredible watercolor mess he's ever seen. Deep reds seep out from her right shoulder, blending into purples and oranges and pinks and a warm, earthy brown between her shoulder blades. Her left shoulder is a bit bruised, he thinks, or it's just dark blue and black and purple seeping into every color of the rainbow plus a dozen more moving down, a streak of brilliant pink that nearly dips below her waistband and a pool of various blues, turquoises, periwinkles, every beautiful color he's ever seen wrapped in deep green ribbons and Jesus, it's fucking incredible. There's a few spots of that same earthy brown scattered across her back, like specks of dirt, or maybe freckles and moles. Maybe those were there before. It doesn't really matter.

He lets his fingers trace one of the ribbons. Robin lets out a hysterical laugh. "I think we might be, like, the most soul connected people ever in the world."

Steve snorts, but he can't bring himself to disagree. He's never seen anything like this before, not even in the most dramatic romantic movies, not even in his wildest dreams.

"Everybody else should just get drugged together too, I guess." It's probably rude, but Steve asks, "Can I move your bra a little to see?"

"Yeah, go for it."

He slips a finger under the band of her bra and lifts it up to see what colors are underneath. There's golden yellow, bright sparks of pure white. He's never felt so warm in his life.

"Never thought I'd have a boy taking my bra off."

He removes his finger and lets the band down, but he snaps her right bra strap against her skin because he can do that now.

"Ow! Asshole."

"I wasn't taking it off, you jerk." Steve gently tugs her shirt down and pats her shoulder. "Sorry. It was really pretty under there. Like white fireworks."

Robin spins around with a big smile on her face and tears in her eyes. "Let me look at yours again."

She shoves his shirt up just as urgently and her fingers trace some unseen pattern near the center of his back.

"Like here?"

Before Steve's painfully slow brain can figure out what she's asking, someone clears their throat.

Steve turns to find Dustin with a smug grin on his face. "Super happy for you guys, but we have a plan."

#em talks #lesbianrobin.ficscraps #long post

123 notes · View notes

drowninginblox · 7 months

Text

Torched

FitMC fic bc March is hard TW: mentions of a past with thoughts of cannibalism,

Hollowed out. That's what Fit would say to someone who asked him how he was doing. Hollowed out, just like this damn cave.

No weapons, no food, not enough strength. The thought of getting up felt like a trial and a half against his still buzzing brain. The only thing that's tempting him to do so is the darkened but still bright sky overhead and the pain he feels in the pit of his stomach. He should have told him when he had the chance. At least write it down in that damn book.

"Stupid." The reverberations of his voice and the words against his lips remind him where he is. It's been a year since he's been like this. Oh, have the mighty have fallen. What would Ramon think if he saw you like this, huh? “What about Pac?”

A voice, warm, soft, familiar asked. From where, Fit couldn't tell. But in an otherwise muted world, Fit heard it. He swallows, the dryness of his throat becoming more aware to him. "I'm sorry I can't make myself known. I would love to show myself to you," He takes a breath. He didn't think going insane was such a plunge. Weren't there stages to losing your mind?

"But there are matters that are... just as concerning as yours, warrior." Fit glances at the corpses. It's been two days since he'd been shoved here and the thought has turned into a temptation now. Who are you? He challenges, biting his lip to the point of drawing blood. He hasn't done that in a long time. "Do not worry, you are good friends with my champion. I am only here to help." Although the warmth of her voice served as a comfort, the complexities of what she just rang through his soul. He raised a brow. Okay, let's try this again,

Fit takes another look before trying to move his legs. First the right, then the left. But when he tried to straighten out the left, a shot of pain courses through his ankle and up his calf. A scream brakes him from his determination. Tears of pain welled, but he knew he had to do this. "Warrior-" Shut the fuck up! Just give me a minute! An irritated sigh followed but Fit paid it no mind as he bunched some of his shirt into his mouth and continued in his plan. He was going to stand even if it killed him.

It took a few minutes, a few agonizingly painful moments full of words he would never say to anyone else, but he got to where he was satisfied. Leaning against the stone wall that made up the cave he fell into. "Okay- okay,..." He mumbled, breath ragged against the adrenaline. Who are you and what do you mean by champion?

"I am Rose, I can not show myself as the majority of my power dedicated to protecting someone right now. Someone you hold dearly." Fit took a sharp breath at that. Let me guess, "Philza, yes." His eyes narrowed, pupils dilated with rage. Now you're protecting him? What the hell happened to him?! Fit needed to tell Phil that he made his god gasp although, maybe the context can be left out. "I was not the entity that corrupted his mind with greed! I would never!" Sure, and I would never eat avocado toast like a millennial. I'd never thought I'd take up cannibalism after leaving the wastes but here I am, moral dilemma McGee- intermixed his rambling, on a spare patch of dirt that found itself nestled in between the stone, a dandelion grew. Fit barely saw it happen. It was just in his periphery, but damn did he see it. "What-"

"You are hungry are you not? Trust me and I can help you." Fit glances between the dandelion, the corpses, and the sky a few times. The voices in his head have been silent for a while. And sure, they aren't the most reliable things. But, this... lady, even if this is all disillusion right now, it's nice to have company at least. Fit rolled his eyes and picked the flower, popping it into his mouth. The warm voice laughed. "That's a new one."

You're name is Rose right? "Indeed."

And Phil trusts you? "With his flegdlings." Fit's eyes go a little wide at that. "Damn with his kids too?" he mumbled. "Alongside himself and his partner, of course." He smiles slightly at that. Well, it'd be nice to have company again. "Good, I suggest you rest, warrior. Tomorrow is going to be hard." Fit's stomach rumbled again, this time with enough resolve to make him wince. Uh.. can I- Not even a second later, a vine grows from the cracks of the stone, followed by another and another. The next thing Fit knows, there are over a dozen vines forcing a hole through the wall until they suddenly stop. Fit looks into it and notices that it is right next to a chest. He hesitates but sticks his arm through and opens it. When he reaches inside it's met with warmth. Something warm but solid. Soft but firm? "What the-" He pulls his arm back and in his hand is a loaf of bread, one that looks to be fresh from the oven.

For the first time since he got here, he smiles. If he could he would jump for joy right now. Thank you, Rose! A chuckle follows.

#qsmp fitmc #fitmc #philza lore #Philza rose #hardcore rose

19 notes · View notes

whumpasaurus101 · 1 year

Note

Heyyyyy! Your writing is absolutely amazing I love it! I was wondering if you could do something with a civilian being chased by a group of men, they quickly turn into an ally and hide as the men run past but the villain is there and see’s the civilian so they try to scare them but they realize that the civilian is badly injured so villain decide to help civilian?

WAAAAAA oh my goodness thank you youre so sweet!!!!!! I hope this is okay!!💜

—-

Civilian’s heartbeat was practically thumping in their ears. Their throat feeling tight as they took in choked gasps. Their body felt on fire.

Each step they took lit up every nerve in their body. They ran with one hand, the other clutching over their side as blood dripped from the gash. They grimaced but forced their legs to keep moving.

“Get back here you little shit, we’re not done with you,” One of the men roared. God, how did they get to this?? One minute they met a stupid bet and the next they were being chased by a bunch of hooligans.

Civilian’s eyes darted around the street before they saw an opening between two buildings. They forced themself to quicken their pace and turned into the alleyway.

Their back hit the wall as they watched the men run by, completely oblivious.

They were heaving for air, bloodied hand clutching to their side. They gasped in breaths, not enough for their liking.

“Well well well, what a pretty little thing to be wandering around these kind of streets.”

Civilian tensed as they unwillingly turned around, “St-stay back!” They tried to ignore the way their voice shook as they spoke.

Villain stared at them for a moment before bursting out laughing, taking a step forward as they tucked a curl behind Civillian’s ear, “My my, you are a cute one, hm?”

Civilian practically trembled under their touch, looking up at Villain with tears brimming their eyes. Villain gently shushed them, dragging a knife along Civillian’s kneck, stopping just under their chin, “You scared?”

Civillian couldn't even muster up the words, their mouth opening and closing, only a rasp escaped their throat as they watched the Villain- who loomed over them- with wide eyes.

“Ohhhhh, I could have my fun with you~ you’d look absolutely devine with my name branded along riiiiight-” they dragged the knife down Civillian’s throat, ghosting it just under their collarbone and stopped, “Here.”

Civilian flinched back, whimpering as their head spun, Villain’s voice barely coherent. They felt their knees buckle and watched as Villain’s face quickly turned to concern.

Villain was quick enough to catch Civillain, “Heyheyhey, easy,” Villain whispered against them, “Who did this?

Civilian let out a sob. Clinging onto Villain’s shirt as the pain engulfed them. “Please make it stop,” They sobbed, “Ple-please… it-it hurts.”

“It’s alright,” Villain whispered, “I’ve got you. I need a name though…”

Civillian whimpered, looking up at Villain, tears slowly rolling down their face, “He-Hero-“ they choked out before breaking into sobs, “Hero and their g-gang, they- they did it! I uhm..I made a be-bet and.. and I lost and- they did it…”

Villain stopped. How could Hero? Not only the city’s protector- but Villain’s own significant other? They held Civilian tighter, “Don’t worry… I’ll sort them out. They’ll never hurt you again.”

#THANK YOU ANON!!!!#asks my beloved #the best way to pass time until therapy is post hurt beans NSNSJSJSJSD #whump #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #civilian #villain caretaker #hero whumper #civilian whumpee #lee wrote something :o

37 notes · View notes

starstwinkleplanetsshine · 1 month

Text

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Ten: I Disobey Orders (Read on AO3 here)

The first thing I saw were a bunch of giants emerging from the ground. The medical tent had been set up at the opposite end of the clearing, but even this far away I could tell they were huge. My stomach sank, but I banished my fear. If my brother was brave enough to fight, then so was I.

Cadence and Will were at the front of the tent in seconds, arrows notched in their bows, ready to defend. I tried to join them, but Will looked back sharply. He may have been younger than me, but he spoke with authority.

“Stay inside!”

I watched as one of the giants swung his large club, knocking over the entire Ares cabin at once. Next thing I knew, catapults were hurling boulders at the giants, crashing into the ground so hard I could feel the shockwaves. Next a volley of arrows, and some of the giants disintegrated into dust.

But just when I was about to celebrate, more monsters came up out of the ground. These ones looked like women from the waist up, except with green scales all over their bodies. Where their legs should've been were two large snake-like tails, and they slithered faster than I thought they should’ve. They were in full battle armor, with nasty spears and nets. They dispersed everywhere, many hitting the traps that had been set by the Hephaestus cabin, but others were making headway. The warriors from the Athena cabin rushed them, and I saw Annabeth wielding a sword, cutting them down one by one. I watched as Chiron took out a monster with every shot of his arrow, never once missing.

Suddenly, a huge, and I mean huge, black dog, a hellhound, jumped out of the ground and made a beeline for the group of satyrs. Percy took off running after it, his speed surprising me. As I followed his path with my eyes, I saw horrible things.

Enemy half-bloods were sword to sword with campers, and I watched as a blond kid in an orange T-shirt fell to the ground after being clubbed in the head. The trees on the edge of the forest were being set on fire, and the dryads and nymphs were frantically trying to put them out, but it wasn't working. The fire was growing, and nothing the satyrs and other creatures were doing was helping. My brother was fighting the hellhound, and the small emo kid had just opened a fissure in the earth that a bunch of undead warriors crawled out of, joining the fight.

Needless to say, no one was focused on the forest fire.

I glanced at where Cadence and Will had been, but they were gone. I saw Cadence on the battlefield next to the blond kid that had fallen, desperately trying to drag him back towards the tent. Will was nowhere to be seen. I saw my opening, and took my chance, running across the battlefield as fast as I could. I dodged flying boulders, jumped out of range of swords, listened as arrows whizzed by my ears, and was at the edge of the trees in no time.

“Percy!” One of the satyrs yelled, but my brother couldn’t hear him. The fire was blazing now, the heat intense. I ran towards him, jumping past duels, running through the legs of giants.

“I can help!” I yelled, breathless.

The satyr didn’t look impressed. “Who are you?”

“I'm Percy's sister!”

His eyes went wide. “You’re Angie?”

There was no more time to talk. I could sense the nearest water to me—the creek, about half a mile away. I had never tried to summon water from a distance before, but something deep inside told me it was possible. The whole earth was thrumming with water, the lifeblood of our planet. I just had to tap into it.

I concentrated. There was a pull in my gut, a roar in my ears. Then a wall of water came rushing through the trees, and I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. It doused the fire, the satyr and the frantic nymph, and pretty much everything else. Annoyed campers looked at me, rolled their eyes, and kept on fighting.

The satyr blew a sprout of water. “Thanks, Angie!”

I fell to my knees and my vision started to go black, my ears ringing.

Suddenly, someone had my arm and was pulling me up, forcing me to move, and all but dragging me through the trees. We were moving fast, too fast, and I didn’t realize where they were taking me until I felt cool water all around me. I instantly felt more awake, more alert, and the pounding in my head subsided. My vision cleared, and I looked up into the concerned and very angry face of my brother.

“Stay here! Stay in the water! I mean it!” He pointed his sword at me to punctuate his words, and then he turned and was gone in a flash. I looked around, and saw that I was alone. I could hear the battle raging half a mile away, and I had no idea how Percy had gotten me so far so quickly. I felt better, so I tried to get out of the creek and make my way back, but as soon as I left the water my knees buckled. My ears started ringing again.

Nope, back in the water, I thought.

I stumbled back into the cool stream and sat down, remembering I had some nectar and ambrosia attached to my belt. I took out a square and nibbled cautiously, remembering that Cadence had said too much of the stuff would burn me up from the inside.

It didn’t taste anything like I thought it would—it was my moms cherry pie, fresh out of the oven with vanilla icecream. I was tempted to take another bite, but stopped myself.

After a couple minutes, I heard the most terrifying noise I had ever heard reverberate through the trees, seeming to fill the air with nothing but the sound of pure fear. I clamped my hands over my ears and tried to run to the battlefield, but I fell again and crawled back to the water.

Then there was silence, and not knowing what was going on was eating me from the inside.

I had no idea how much time had passed when I felt strong enough to stand up on dry land. There was a massive rumble in the ground, and for a second I thought the Titan army was coming back. But it stayed silent, so I hoped that wasn’t the case. I made my way slowly towards where the battle had been, avoiding the small fires that were blazing, and when I finally emerged from the trees onto the clearing, my breath caught in my throat.

What was once a beautiful, grassy clearing was now scorched and charred, with rows of wounded campers being tended to by the Apollo cabin. The most serious cases were in the makeshift tent, but almost everyone who had fought had sustained at least one injury that would leave a scar. I saw a few forms under white sheets on the right side of the tent, and felt my stomach sink as I realized they were bodies.

We had lost campers in that fight, and I had been stuck in a creek.

Anger and frustration and embarrassment welled in me, and tears started streaming down my face. I stood there frozen, watching as Campers helped each other and cleaned up the debris and carnage. I almost didn’t notice someone walking up the hill towards me until they were right in front of me.

“How are you feeling?” Percy looked tired and spent, but he managed a smile.

“Better, but I wish I hadn't been stuck in a creek while you all were fighting to save Camp.” His smile fell and he nodded.

“I know. If that were me, it would’ve driven me crazy.”

“The only reason I didn’t come back was because everytime I stepped out of the water I almost passed out.” Percy managed a small laugh.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

I gave him a quizzical look. “How did you know what to do?”

“Tricks of the trade.” He cracked a smile at me and I returned it. “That was a pretty impressive display.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“I couldn't have done that weeks after coming to camp. No wonder you almost passed out.” His eyes were kind and exactly like a brother’s should be.

“I just wanted to help.”

He put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me. He was just a few inches taller. “You did. I know Grover and Juniper are especially grateful.” I guessed those were the satyr and dryad that I helped.

“I wish I could've done more.” I could barely meet his eyes, I was so embarrassed. My brother shook his head.

“You did more than anyone could’ve expected. I’m super proud of you.” I felt tears rush to my eyes, and I looked up into Percy’s face. His smile was kind and warm.

“Thank you for helping me.” I finally got out.

“Don’t mention it. That’s what brothers are for.” Instinctually, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He tensed slightly before relaxing into the embrace, holding me close.

We stood there for a moment, letting the weight of what just happened settle between us. It wouldn’t go away any time soon, and I knew that that was just the beginning, but I also had the feeling that if my brother was by my side, I would be okay.

That night we held a funeral for those who had fallen during the battle. The bodies were wrapped in burial shrouds, beautifully decorated by their siblings to represent who they were in life. Among the dead were one of the Dionysus twins, the one named Castor, and Lee Fletcher, the counselor for the Apollo cabin.

I had never seen the children of Apollo be so sad before, as if all the sunlight in their souls had been dimmed. None of them so much as hummed the whole night, and I didn’t blame them. Cadence and Will looked like they hadn’t stopped crying since that afternoon, and I remembered how highly Cadence spoke of Lee. He was all of their big brother—and now he was gone. Just like that.

We honored the dead with memories, stories, and by reminiscing about kinder times. I sat in silence for most of it, on the edge of one of the stone seats, just watching everything. Percy sat by Annabeth and the satyr from before, Grover. I gave them space, figuring they needed the comfort of old friends during such a hard time. I felt like a little bit of an interloper—like I didn’t have the right to be witnessing everyone's pain. I had only been at Camp a few weeks, I didn’t have the same history with the fallen that others did. But still, Camp had become my home in such a short amount of time, and seeing it attacked and almost broken set me on edge.

Percy didn’t say anything in our cabin that night, and I didn't try to comfort him. Something told me it wasn't the right time, and he was doing everything he could to hold himself together. All I could manage were a couple of encouraging small smiles before he turned the lights off, no rock-paper-scissors battle to speak of.

4 notes · View notes