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wheelsup · 3 years

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the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon.

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you.

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger.

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week.

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept.

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling.

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you.

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!”

Your head just about exploded when she said that.

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you.

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.”

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless?

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.”

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim.

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured.

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?”

“That his girlfriend died last year.”

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there.

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit.

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…”

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.”

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from.

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not.

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made.

“There’s nothing I need from you.”

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?”

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea.

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more.

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off.

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.”

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch.

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!”

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales.

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets.

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down.

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works.

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so.

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.”

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend.

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?”

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income.

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended.

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill.

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe.

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.”

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped.

“Did you need something?”

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!”

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.”

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line.

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?”

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.”

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care.

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him.

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.”

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency.

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that.

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here.

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?”

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.”

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before.

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath.

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly.

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.”

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer.

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you.

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems.

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that.

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that.

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him.

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.”

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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zealous-whispers-of-us-redux · 3 years

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i'll make this feel like home

Summary: She never wanted a mate like this and will kill this wolf no matter what it takes. Enough is enough. And. Bucky finds out how much she likes the color yellow and how much he likes it when she smiles.

It has been three long and sorrowful weeks since Bucky had lost track of his sweet omega. It is a sin among alphas to lose their omegas, and Bucky has been feeling the quiet disdain amongst his pack for how shitty of a leader they have. She left not a trace when she fled- just a discarded shoe that Bucky had found in the forest long after she'd escaped him. But he can't even find a scent that matches the one on the shoe to follow! It's been a lonely time, and Bucky has been holed up in his bedroom like a hermit, unable to face the world until his omega willingly returns to him. He will not force her to come to him. He can't. (Okay, maybe it is too soon, but he's ninety-eight percent positive that he's in love with this woman already; alpha and omega dynamics be damned.)

Bucky is sure that she didn't remember this, but she talked while lying unconscious in his bed. She had an entire conversation with someone. She spoke of the old country, whatever that was, and how cold she felt. How strange it was for a vamp to feel cold! Bucky was brought up believing that they felt nothing. She begged the person only she could see. She wanted to be mortal. She missed seeing herself in a mirror. Bucky would have told her she looked beautiful. He would say to her that every day if she let him.

He's sad.

No, scratch that. He's heartbroken. He has not eaten much of anything except the occasional raw strip of bacon. He can't even be bothered to cook it up properly. Gods, he remembers what she smelled like. The sea and clean clothes fresh out of the dryer, his favorite. She smelled like something comforting, too, which made him think of being a pup and spending hours in the library, escaping the summer heat through his favorite stories. Her anger smelled like a heady bonfire, one like the Pagan witches burn every year as they celebrated Beltane.

Her scent haunts him so much that he can nearly taste it. After she fled, her smell lingered merely a moment before it was blown away by a gust of cold wind. Even her shoe no longer smells like her, so Bucky has nothing to comfort him. All he can do is sit at the window like a dutiful alpha and wait. Sometimes he howls into the darkness, hoping that she will hear and come to him.

She is exhausted- bone tired and feeling increasingly sluggish for the last three weeks. She doesn't want to blame it on the stupid wolf who may or may not have saved her life from whatever was wrong with her, but the longer she hides from him and his emotions that sear her chest, the more she believes that yes, they have somehow miraculously pair-bonded. Gods! She can't even process the thought. It is like something out of that stupid book Twilight, where that teen werewolf who never wears a shirt falls in love with an infant- what a ridiculous idea. At least, she used to think it was until it happened to her. She supposes it did happen to her because she can still feel the twinges of the wolf in her mind. She can feel his pain, sense his loneliness.

It's very distracting as she is trying to read. She hasn't gotten past Canto ii of her favorite poem (The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser) before her chest starts to hurt, and she hears 'Wolfy's howl in her mind.

"Oh my Gods!" she yells as she bangs her head against her headboard and throws her book across the room. "What is wrong with me? Ugh, cut me open! I'm infected! Pull it out! I cannot believe this is happening to me."

He was only minutely attractive, right? Not sexy enough for her to want to be a subservient omega-like being, bending to her alpha's every whim. She is not a gods-darn cum dumpster, nor is she mother material. She cannot cook because she only eats blood. She hates to clean and hardly ever makes a mess, so she does not need to deal with that, anyway. She is not going to take this thing sitting down. She's a vampire, not an omega. As that thought crosses her mind for the hundredth time in the last hour, she has decided that she has officially reached her limit. She is going to kill this wolf no matter what it takes. She's sick of him in her head.

Enough is enough.

Bucky has not moved from his spot by his bedroom window in over six hours. He's been steadfastly ignoring the gnaw of hunger in his belly. The moon shines in his window, and he tilts his head, letting out a mournful howl. He hears a responding howl from a few miles away and knows that it's his second, Steve. Steve has been checking up on his best friend for a few hours every other day to see how Bucky has been managing. But the rest of Bucky's pack has all but shunned him. It will take a lot to get back into their good graces, but how can he lead when he feels so empty? Bucky howls again, yipping into it. A gust of wind blows through his window just as his nose is still in the air, and he inhales it, prepared for the icy chill to burn his lungs and soothe the ache in his chest. Instead, he catches the scent of the sea, cotton, and the yellowed pages of old books.

It's his pretty omega!

Bucky leaps to his feet and runs downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His body heat will keep him warm anyway. He throws open his front door and races out onto the grass, frantically looking around in the darkness. He howls at her, sending his yearning across their bond. He wants to see her so badly. He wants to touch her and kiss her and taste her and fuck her. He wants her wrapped around him so tightly that he can hardly breathe. He wants her to taste him.

A hiss from the darkness is all the warning he has before something knocks him on his ass. He yelps in surprise, and then a figure jumps on top of him, holding him in place. Though he is an alpha pack leader, vamps are stronger than he is whenever there isn't a full moon or he is not on his rut. So this waif of a thing is stronger than him, which makes the alpha in his chest deeply unhappy. He quells that side of him with an internal growl. He's just thrilled that she's here!

She hisses again, baring her fangs at him. Her eyes glow, and she smells like charcoal. She looks furious. Her right hand comes up to his neck, and she chokes Bucky in an attempt to frighten him. However, it has the opposite effect as he wiggles around, feeling his dick starting to swell in his pants. She glares and presses down harder until he can't even breathe, and he gapes up at her, helplessly turned on.

"I am so sick and tired of your voice in my head day in and day out," she snarls. "Always in my mind, whining for an omega. Do you think I wanted this? There is no way I would ever want a disgusting animal like you!"

She laughs, looking as crazed as Bucky feels.

"Since you couldn't kill me the first time around, I guess it's my turn. I will have no problem killing you, you awful creature. I'll revel in it. I'll roll around in your blood like a pup. I'll stick silver in your mouth and rip. Your. Guts. Out. And I'll love every second of it."

Bucky whimpers. He has never felt so powerless against anything before. She has got him right where she wants him and not in a good way, though he doesn't mind it so much. He squirms in her grip, trying to find anything to rut against, and she hisses at him, snapping her hand back as though she had been stabbed.

"What was that?" she asks, eyes huge. "What's going on?"

"I don't- I don't- what are you talkin' about?" Bucky whines, wanting her hand around his neck again.

"You burned me, you asshole! Oh, shit! Ow, ow!"

"My necklace?" Bucky asks, fingering the symbol around his neck.

It is a relic passed down from pack alpha to pack alpha as a remembrance of the leaders before him and a remembrance of the wolf's ways. Bucky recalls that it's made of iron as a way of protecting the pack leader from vamp attacks. The necklace is for protection from the same creatures like the one seated on top of him—his omega. The older a vamp is, the more iron burns them. His sweet baby doll is cradling her hand and moaning in pain. She must have been very hurt.

"'S my necklace. It's iron," Bucky says weakly, feeling terrible. "I can take it off if ya wanna, you know, kill me or whatever."

"I don't understand what's going on," she says instead, toppling off of him and scurrying away from the light of his porch. "Why can I hear you in my head? Why can I feel what you feel?"

"Pair-bonding," Bucky explains, getting to his knees and following her, "Alphas smell a certain smell that attracts them to the omega -er- being that carries the same scent. It's a scent ingrained in the individual alpha's hindbrain before they're even born. You smell like the ocean. I love goin' to the beach. You smell like my childhood library. An' I love fresh sheets right outta the dryer an' ya smell like that too. I smelled ya at the church, an' it was everythin' I thought it would be. You're my omega. I can't help it no more than you can help suckin' down blood."

"So what then?" she says, glaring at Bucky. "What, I don't get a choice? A say? This isn't my body anymore; it's yours just because you've decided it is? Because your biology told you it is? You alpha wolves are pieces of work; you know that? How disgusting this whole hierarchical thing is. How do you think your omegas feel, huh? You treat them like nothing more than processing factories to dump your cum into and then pop out your babies!"

"Now, hold on a second," Bucky starts angrily, "It ain't like that with omegas!"

"Oh yeah? I've been around for hundreds of years, 'Wolfy,' and the only thing that's changed are the colors of your fur. Nothing in societal terms. Omegas are treated like second-class citizens, and if you think I am going to fall to my knees and beg at your feet for you to shove your dick in me, you have another thing coming! My Gods, this is ridiculous! I have been alone for four hundred years, and I get a werewolf wanting to mate with me?" she cries, throwing her hands in the air in disbelief.

"Things have changed!" says Bucky. "But why the fuck do I needta explain it to ya? Omegas are revered, respected. They're treated like royalty! Hell, the last Heat Centers closed in the 1930s!"

"'Heat Centers'! You mean those glorified prostitution rings?" she snarls. "You animals disgust me."

"Likewise," Bucky snaps. "Ain't like you vamps made us wolves your bitches for hundreds of years!"

"Gods, you're still bitter about that? That was eons ago! My great-great-grandparents weren't even alive when the last wolf trade happened!"

"Yeah, well. We're still pretty angry!"

"Ugh."

They sit in silence for a moment. Bucky huffs, which is a terrible idea as he then inhales and gets a whiff of her scent. He groans and continues hating himself for choosing a fucking vampire as a mate. (This whole courting thing is going well so far, isn't it, Barnes?) He told her he wanted her to have his pups the very moment he met her. She just tried to kill him. He burned the palm of her hand clean through to the muscle; they screamed at each other—what a mess.

Okay, new plan.

"Look," Bucky says finally. "I dunno what else to say except I'm sorry. I know ya understand that I can't help this."

"What would happen if I refuse?" she says.

Bucky's heart sinks.

"I'd try an' respect your choice. But it would be tough for me. You might as well just kill me now 'cause I'd die without ya."

"Now you're just acting dramatic."

"Swear it. Didn't you feel that burnin' on the night of the full moon?" asks Bucky.

She nods.

"It felt like I was being ripped apart on a cross and like I was being injected with Holy Water and burned with hot irons all at once. It was like I was dying from starvation with no blood in sight," she says.

"Now imagine that pain every day for the rest a' your life. Most alphas don't last an' kill themselves after a while. It makes 'em go crazy," Bucky says.

She closes her eyes and heaves a heavy sigh.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

She opens her eyes, and their gazes lock. Bucky makes sure to take in every inch of her if this is the last time he will get to see her. He memorizes the shape of her lips, the tilt of her nose, and the way her hair falls in her face. She is magnificent.

"You're beautiful, ya know," Bucky says, without thinking.

"You don't mean that, not really. It's just your alpha talking."

He moves closer, dropping down to his knees beside her. She is leaning against the side of his house, still cradling her hand.

"But I do mean it. Pair-bond or not. Stupid Twilight-style imprint shit or not. You're pretty. I think you're pretty an' I'm glad it's you," Bucky murmurs.

"You don't even know me, 'Wolfy."

"An' you don't know me 'cause you keep callin' me, Wolfy. My name's James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky, an' you can too."

"Bucky." A ghost of a smile appears on her lips. "That's a good name for a dog."

"My middle name is Buchanan," Bucky says, only slightly upset by her teasing.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I only said that it suits you and what you are."

"Oh yeah? What's your name then? Is it Claudia? Rosalie? Eli? Akasha? Oh! I bet it's Lestat."

"That last one is a man's name, and you know it."

Bucky grins.

"Fine. So what is your name?"

She twirls a strand of hair around her finger and tells him her birth name. (She debated for a moment if she wanted to give him the fake name that she has been using for the last hundred years or so since her name is a little unusual, but she assumed he would end up discovering the truth eventually.) Bucky repeats it to himself, and his grin grows wider.

"That's a beautiful name. It suits ya," he tells her.

"Thank you," she whispers, looking embarrassed.

"I know it's unconventional, but maybe I'd be happy just gettin' to know ya. We could talk a little bit. If I get to know you, the bond may break as my hindbrain realizes we aren't meant to be. I've heard a' that happenin' before. Lemme take you out somewhere. What do ya like to do?"

"I promise you I'm not very exciting."

"I doubt that."

"I am incredibly serious," she says with a shy smile.

Bucky's heart leaps in his chest, and he bites back a quiet sound. He can feel himself falling in love with every word she speaks, and he knows that once he does get to know her, he is not going to want to let her go. Her eyes are colorless, but her smile is as bright as the mark she's already made on his heart. He doesn't think he can live without her.

Bucky fights the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands, "Now, I know that ain't true."

"All right," she says. "Fine, since you asked. I like to read. I like to run in the woods. I knit sometimes. I go to movies-"

Naturally, Bucky assumed she would like those calm activities that didn't require another person along for the ride. Vamps are known for being very solitary, introverted creatures that intensely dislike others' company, even one of their own. He does know a good used bookstore that's open until two in the morning. He could take her there. He doesn't mind quiet, boring activities if it means he can spend time with his beautiful girl.

"-This crow and I go for walks at night, I enjoy that. Coffee shops are fun, though I don't eat much. Go-carting is great."

Wait, wait, wait, wait. What did she say?

"Um, water parks. Cliff diving can be fun if you find the right cliffs. I like making candles and coloring in kid's coloring books. Oh, snowmobiling's nice too. I did that once up in Colorado, and it was the best. A little cold, but once you get going, it's incredible. "

"Wow," Bucky says weakly, which is Bucky code for 'holy-fucking-shit-I-think-I-am-in-love-with-you.'

"I'm sorry," she says, suddenly uncomfortable, and Bucky smells it on her. "I have no idea where all of that came from."

"No!" he says a little too eagerly. "No, no, no! You, uh, in the mood to drive some go-carts right now? I know the manager of the place downtown. He's one of my pack buddies. He gave me a key, 'cause you know, I'm his alpha, he's gotta listen to me."

Bucky's only showing off a little bit.

"Oh," she says, surprised. "You want to go now?"

"No time like the present, right?"

A genuine grin, the first one Bucky has ever seen from her, spreads across her face. She even lets out a soft giggle and nods.

"Go-carts it is," she agrees.

Clint Barton was not at all pleased with Bucky. Bucky had texted Barton fifteen minutes before the go-cart place was due to close, which Bucky knew made him a dick, but what else could he do? This new thing, this vampire he met, agreed to spend time with him! He didn't want to disappoint her! To get Clint to agree, Bucky promised a few things to Barton that he never wanted anyone else to know about. He didn't want to die of humiliation before he even had a chance to impress the pretty vampire, who he was pretty sure he was in love with.

The same pretty vampire who had tried to kill him not sixty minutes ago is now jumping eagerly on her toes as she stands with Bucky, waiting to get onto the track. She is a bit too far away from him. He moves closer, wanting to touch but refraining, wary of her changing her mind and running away again.

"You ready?" Bucky asks.

He can hear the happiness in her voice as she finishes adjusting her helmet.

"I sure am!" she answers, grinning.

"Anyone ever tell ya you got real pretty eyes, darlin'?" Bucky bravely says, nudging her before he can stop himself.

The compliment startles her for a brief moment, her gaze going blank. Why does she look upset? Bucky did not mean for that to happen. Fuck, he ruined it, didn't he? Hastily, he tries to recover from his mistake, but then she meets his eyes, looking shy. Bucky's heart leaps in his chest at the look on her face. His palms feel slick with sweat.

"No one has said that to me in a very long time." Her voice is soft. "Thank you, James."

He swallows. "B-Bucky. I mean, it's Bucky, Bucky's fine, yeah. Call me Bucky."

"Thank you, Bucky," she corrects, inching all that closer to him. "You have beautiful hair."

Bucky swallows again, harder, this time past the lump welling up in his throat. How is she even real? What being can he thank for creating her? Gods, he wants to kiss her so badly. That first time they had kissed, she had gotten her hands in his hair, and Bucky has not forgotten that at all. He chances a glance at her fingers, willing them to move onto his head and tug on his hair.

"Ha, thanks. I, uh, was gonna cut it actually," he says.

"Oh no!" she squeaks a little too loudly and a little too quickly. "I mean, it looks nice long, but if you wanted to, you could cut it, of course. Please don't listen to me. It's your hair."

Bucky bites back a knowing grin. She wants him to keep it long; he'll keep it long for her—no big deal. Feeling brave, he grabs her hand.

"Oh," he says, startled.

Her hand is freezing. Bucky turns to face her, and she does too, though she isn't looking at him.

"Sorry," she says. "I know it's not nice to feel."

"No," Bucky says, grabbing her other hand. "It's fine. You're fine. Can you look at me?"

She does.

"They don't ever get much warmer," she admits, looking miserable.

"That's okay. Gives me more of a reason to hold 'em. If you don't mind, I mean."

"I don't mind."

Bucky's gaze flickers to her lips. He is suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to see her fangs, to run his tongue over them. Would she bite him? He sure wants her to.

"Can I kiss you?" Bucky asks.

"We haven't even started our date yet."

"Don't tell me yer that old-fashioned."

"I am over four hundred years old."

"Please? Just one kiss. I won't even ask for another one when I drop you off."

"What if I wanted you to?"

"I see. Two kisses, eh? For someone who tried to kill me a few hours ago, you're bein' very generous."

"What can I say? Go-carting gives me an adrenaline rush."

"So, is that a yes on the kiss?"

"Okay."

She steps closer to Bucky, something shining in her eyes as though she is working up her nerve. It has been a long time since she's wanted to kiss someone, but Bucky is so handsome and so sweet that she isn't afraid. He brings something out in her. She doesn't feel so shy. Bucky leans forward, and she does, too. The kiss makes her belly do all kinds of funny things that she doesn't realize she missed until they happen.

As soon as their lips touch, Bucky lets out a soft noise and gathers her up in his arms, crowding into her space. He can't get enough. He slips his tongue into her mouth too soon, but she doesn't mind. He whines when she pulls on the ends of his hair. He wants to ask her to bite him. He almost gets to, but she breaks away from his mouth. Bucky pouts, chasing after her lips.

"It looks like we can go in now," she murmurs, kissing Bucky again just to soothe him. "I hope they have yellow ones."

"Yeah?" says Bucky, nuzzling her cheek. "You like yellow?"

"Yes." Her voice is soft again, something that Bucky is slowly learning to mean that she is about to share a piece of herself with him. "Yes, it's my favorite color. It reminds me of the sun, and I can't see a lot of the sun."

Right then, Bucky decides that he will get her everything and anything in this world that is yellow.

He tugs her towards the carts. She plops down into a yellow one. He follows her lead, sitting down into a cart, with his knees pressed against his chest. She is watching him as Bucky fiddles with the seat, feeling his face turning red at how ridiculous he must look. He's never been known to be the blushing type of alpha, least of all on dates or around potential mates, but something about her makes him shy and prone to stuttering even after that damn kiss. Bucky blushes harder at this realization, his mind wandering away on the thoughts of yellow houses and wedding bells.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

"Yeah, sunshine," Bucky says, because how can he call her anything else?

She smiles at the pet name, her tongue sweeping out to lick her lips, and reaches out to take his hand, to which Bucky allows with a goofy smile. Then she lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses each of his fingers.

"For good luck," she tells him.

Bucky's heart almost beats out of his chest. He wonders if she wouldn't mind sharing a cart. His mind wanders again, of being pressed up against her as she drives them around the track. Her scent stuck in his nose as she drove. His mouth on her neck, her shoulders, anywhere he could reach. Then he would slip a hand underneath her shirt and feel the chill of her skin on his fingertips, pull her body back against his.

The gate opens. Just as it does, she stomps on the accelerator and darts out before Bucky even registers what has happened. He lets out a yelp of indignation, muttering about dirty tricks before he too begins to drive. He doesn't want to lose, competitive as alphas are.

The track is the most complicated one that they offer, full of traps where people are bound to get stuck; sharp turns lead to drivers careening into the tires along the sides. She has a lead foot, Bucky starts to realize as she rounds the bend, already on her second lap. The alpha in him growls, annoyed that he is losing to an omega, but he shuts it up, happily waving to her as she passes him. When she does pass him, he can feel the connection between them break.

It was a weak bond from the start, Bucky knew. His alpha hindbrain liked how she smelled, but once he found out what she was, his hindbrain was wary. Now, his hindbrain is deeply unhappy that he is on a date with this gorgeous creature. She is not only stronger but faster and more competitive. She does not need an alpha to take care of her. They are not compatible in any way, or so his Gods-damn hindbrain thinks. But Bucky realizes he doesn't care how his alpha side feels about the situation. He swears at himself, shutting his hindbrain down. He wants her, whether his hindbrain agrees or not.

And he knows that it is not very wise to think so, but Bucky has always been too much of a romantic. He swears she is in love with him also. He pictures her face underneath the visor, sees her smiling at him, eyes bright, and happy, and so alive. She waves back at him as she speeds by, close enough that he can barely touch her fingers. There are the gods-damn sparks that Bucky knew were there from the moment he met her. Then the surety:

Oh, this one's mine.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #abo au #alpha bucky barnes #vampire reader #fluff #bucky flirting

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whoseafraidofliloleme · 3 years

Text

Invisible Chapter 9

Summary: YN YLN has always been third in Class 2-5, right behind Lee Su Ho and Kang Soo Jin but with both of them having left Saebom Highschool, this is her time to shine. That is until Han Seosangnim asks her to tutor Han Seo Jun. A guy who doesn’t even know she existed.

Ship: Han Seo Jun x Female Reader.

Word Count: 2011 words.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated with any reactions or whatever you want to say. Again I really don't know where I am going with this.

Taglist: @thealexalcala @hayateotaku

Anyone interested in being added to the tag list, just let me know 😊.

True Beauty Masterlist

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9:

Sitting in the Ice Cream shop, opposite you and watching you laugh and joke with Hyun Ji and Cho Rong. This is something Seo Jun could get used to, he could imagine it now, going on dates with you and just enjoying his time with you. Granted before that happened. He had to ask you out to begin with, but imagining your dating life together wasn’t that bad. If Su Ho had been here, he would have whacked Seo Jun and told him to ask YN out already.

Feeling a poke in his side, Seo Jun looked to his side. Ju Kyung was smiling at him. Sighing, he knew she wanted him to admit his feelings for YN to her. It was too much fun to annoy Ju Kyung by keeping the information from her.

“You look her with heart eyes and yet don’t tell me about your feelings for her,” Ju Kyung whispered. Just this whole outing had revealed just how soft Seo Jun was for YN. Not just that, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he asked her out.

Without a doubt, YN would say yes, while Seo Jun was going soft for her. YN was smiling and laughing more around Seo Jun and she could calm him down in a second. He could make her laugh and get her out of her head. They were just well-matched and Ju Kyung like the rest of the class, Si Woo, and Cho Rong were waiting for them to get together.

“My feelings for YN are none of your business Lim Ju Kyung” Seo Jun sneered quietly to Ju Kyung. He knew how much Ju Kyung wanted him to admit his feelings for YN to her. But he wasn’t going to give her that. Annoying her by refusing to tell her was too funny. He thought that Su Ho would’ve spilt the beans. However, Su Ho proved that his loyalty to Seo Jun by not telling Ju Kyung.

Although with how much Seo Jun had been rambling about YN to Su Ho. The guy was losing his patience and Seo Jun could tell from Su Ho’s replies that if Seo Jun didn’t do something soon, Lee Su Ho would tell Ju Kyung and let Seo Jun deals with Ju Kyung’s reaction.

Ju Kyung smirked at Seo Jun. She hadn’t said a name, Seo Jun was just admitting his feelings without actually telling her. Even now, he wasn’t even paying attention to anyone else on the table. All his attention was on YN and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. YN’s blushing cheeks were evidence that she could feel Seo Jun looking at her even if she didn’t look at him.

As the group left, the six of you were walking in pairs. Cho Rong and Ju Kyung at the front, Si Woo and Hyun Ji then you and Seo Jun were walking behind them. Seo Jun was holding your bag. Even though you insisted that he didn’t need to, Seo Jun just smirked at you and picked up your bag anyway. While the rest of the group were talking about school. You and Seo Jun were talking about your next study session that would be at your house. Your mum was quite fond of Seo Jun and had been asking you to bring him around again.

While walking, you heard someone calling your name. You turn around to see who is calling you. You smile and stop where you are, to let the person catch up to you. You hadn’t seen Cha Sun Lee since you’d graduated from Shinhwa Middle School. You hadn’t meant to lose contact with her, but it had happened anyway.

Seo Jun, looked confused as you waited for this random girl to come to you. The other 4 had walked ahead not knowing that you and Seo Jun had stopped. The two of you had been walking at a much slower pace than the others. As this girl got to you both of you hugged and started talking to each other. Feeling quite ignored, Seo Jun cleared his throat. That brought you and Sun Lee out of your reminiscing bubble. You smiled sheepishly at Seo Jun.

“Sorry about that Seo Jun, this is Cha Sun Lee, we went to Shinhwa Middle School together. Sun Lee this is Han Seo Jun” you explained, introducing the two people to each other. Sun Lee laughed and whacked your arm.

“Yah, YLN YN, we didn’t just go to Middle School together, I was also the one who got you and Gong Jae Yi together,” Sun Lee said laughing when you blushed. Nodding your head when Seo Jun looked at you confused.

“Yes yes, sorry forgot Sun Lee’s biggest achievement was being the matchmaker for Jae Yi and me,” you said rolling your eyes as Sun Lee fans herself acting like she is so important. There was no denying that Sun Lee played a big role in you and Jae Yi getting together. But it had been a few years and it was awkward talking about your ex-boyfriend with the guy you had a massive crush on being around there.

“Now that you mention it, Jae Yi is back and there’s a whole reunion happening. So gimme your number and I'll tell you, you can get Si Woo and Hyun Ji to come as well, we all lost contact with you 3 when you went to Saebom rather than Shinhwa High,” Sun Lee told you. You wanted to clarify that she had mentioned Jae Yi first but that would lead to a whole other conversation with Sun Lee. And quite frankly, you were still processing that she had just told you that Gong Jae Yi was back.

You smiled and gave her your number. She immediately called and you saved her number. You smiled at her, hugged her, and then said goodbye to her. Waiting for her to walk out of view, you turned to Seo Jun. He smiled at you, putting his arm around you, and carried on walking.

This shocked you. He didn’t ask any questions, even before he didn’t question you when he heard about Gong Jae Yi. You appreciated that Seo Jun didn’t ask or pester you until you caved and talked to him. No matter the situation, he would wait until you were ready to talk and then just listen to you. Then, he would just let you get all your unfiltered feelings out. Then would give his thoughts, calmly but never invalidating what you had told you.

It wasn’t new for Seo Jun to put his arm around your shoulders. He had been doing it a lot in the last few weeks. It was nice, you were used to Cho Rong, Si Woo or Hae Sung putting their arms around your shoulders. But it was different with Seo Jun, you didn’t have feelings for any of the other guys. When Seo Jun put his arm around your shoulders, you could pretend that you were his girlfriend. It was a little bit heaven, pretending that Seo Jun had feelings for you and that you were together. Sure, you knew it would never happen. Still, you liked the small bit of happiness this little gesture gave you.

It wasn’t until you and Seo Jun were at your home, washing the dishes. That you finally told Seo Jun about Jae Yi, this wasn’t the first time the 2 of you were washing the dishes. Whenever you were at Seo Jun’s house, you insisted on doing the dishes. Especially since Seo Jun’s mum was against you helping her cook and so you had to insist on doing something.

“So, Gong Jae Yi and I got together in the summer before my last year of Middle School and we broke up, a few months into us starting High School,” you told Seo Jun. You knew you had shocked Seo Jun, you’d both been washing and drying the dishes in silence until you broke that by bringing Jae Yi up. Seo Jun stopped wiping the bowl he had been holding. He turned to you and looked at you. You could feel Seo Jun staring at you. However, you avoided looking at him. On a good day, you couldn’t take looking at Seo Jun’s eyes without falling into those deep depths. Now, when you wanted to just get all of this out, you knew looking at Seo Jun wouldn’t help.

“You don’t have to tell me, Princess, I didn’t ask the first time and I’m not going to ask this time either” Seo Jun never asked that first time because it didn’t seem like the right time. So many things were happening in that week that Seo Jun had even forgotten. Well, he hadn’t forgotten but thinking about your ex-boyfriend was the last thing he wanted to do. It helped that, the first time he heard the name had been a busy week in itself. He just let the name go from one ear to another. Happily pretending to be ignorant about the fact that you had an ex-boyfriend named Gong Jae Yi.

“I know, but I want to tell you. Only Hyun Ji, Si Woo and Hae Sung know about us and what happened. We were happy, he didn’t go to Shinhwa Middle School, but we still made our relationship work. Well, that is until he was chosen to go on a High School exchange for the rest of his High School education.” Even though Seo Jun had stopped drying the dishes. You were still washing and just putting them to the side. Though you were over Jae Yi, obviously your feelings for Seo Jun were at a different level. There would always be a small part of you that still loved Jae Yi. Though it had been your idea to break up, that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Seo Jun, made you put the dished in your hand down. He turned you to face him. Lifted your chin and gently wiped your tears. You didn’t even know you were crying. Guess that break up still hurt a lot. Seo Jun hugged you tightly, holding you close as you sobbed in his arms. Soe Jun hated that you were crying, yet he was happy to be there for you. He always wanted to be the one holding you. Helping you work through your feelings. As you pulled away, you apologised for getting his shirt wet, Seo Jun just laughed and told you it was nothing. Before you went back to doing the dishes, Seo Jun pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You didn’t know why but you appreciated the gesture.

“Moving on from that sob fest, I need a favour,” you say, going back to washing the dishes. Trying not to think about how you had just sobbed in Seo Jun’s arms about Gong Jae Yi. You were such an embarrassment at times. What weirdo cries about her ex, in the arms of the guy she currently has feelings for. Well, you are that weirdo and now here you are asking Seo Jun for a favour.

“Well, if I can do it, I’ll do it, Princess,” Seo Jun said calmly. Already in his head, he had agreed to whatever you asked of him. Short of something illegal, there was nothing you asked of him that he wouldn’t do.

“I know, there’s a class outing planned for Saturday and I can’t go. I don’t want to be the one to tell the class” before you could finish.

“You want me to tell the class about you missing out on the class outing, sure I’ll do that tomorrow,” Seo Jun said interrupting you. You nodded your head and smiled at him. Not being able to go to the class outing. Having to tell the class about that was making you nervous enough. It was a weight off of your shoulders, that Seo Jun was going to tell the class for you.

Chapter 10.

#true beauty #true beauty tvn #true beauty fanfic #true beauty fanfiction #han seo jun x reader #han seo jun x you #han seo joon x reader #han seo #han seo jun fanfiction #moon ga young #lim ju kyung #My Writing #Zainab's Fanfiction #My Fanfic #Invisible chapter 9 #Invisible Ch 9 #lee su ho #lee suho

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bipercabeth · 4 years

Note

“Something’s wrong, I can tell” for percabeth 💖🔪

(in which we ignore the fact that hoo exists)

Annabeth’s alarm clock blinks 5:00 PM on her bedside table, the bright red casting a glow over her dark dorm room. Her blinds are drawn back, but uselessly so. The sun hides behind rain clouds that drown the city in their gloom. And so the turn of spring is more limp than victory march, or maybe it just walks to a cadence Annabeth can’t hear. The moment her feet hit the floor this morning, it felt like she was stepping out of time.

The darkness presses in heavily on Annabeth, like maybe it’s her fault the sun rose wrong today. The girl with a plan for everything can’t even rouse herself out of bed. Afternoon collapses into early evening, and the weight of the lost day pins Annabeth below her comforter. Alone in a twin bed, the way it way built to be. Even after nearly a decade of sleeping in a cabin with all her siblings, that’s all Annabeth has ever really been: alone, the way she was built to be.

Sneakers scuff the carpeted hallway, stopping when they reach Annabeth’s door. A key scrapes the lock without a knock, which is how she knows it’s Percy on the other side.

Light from the hallway follows him in, and both of them blink as their eyes adjust. Annabeth is blind for a moment, able only to focus on Percy’s silhouette. Even in the lowlight, she can see the way concern softens his brow and stiffens his hands.

“Baby...” he says, a nickname that has become a common occurrence in their seven months of dating. This is the first time it has failed to warm Annabeth’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

Annabeth tries—she really does—to sit up and wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks, but her nose is snotty and half her hair falls out of its scrunchie from being upright for the first time all day. Her voice cracks when she says, “M’fine.”

Percy just crosses the room and turns on her desk lamp, giving the place a soft yellow glow. He looks like the sun sweeping away the shadows of a dim day. With gentle hands, he undoes Annabeth’s scrunchie and coaxes her curls into a bun that will hold in the wake of her wallowing. Annabeth leans her head back into his stomach to look at him upside down, at which point he holds her cheeks and breaks her with a gentle, “Something’s wrong, I can tell.”

She just gapes at him uselessly, because isn’t the lack of words the very core of this pain? All the power of Athena’s wisdom, Daedalus’s laptop, and Annabeth’s own mind, and she cannot string together a sentence about Luke Castellan that rings true.

He was a hero. Naive.

He was a monster. Calloused.

He loved me.

Well, aside from that, which is the only thing she knows to be true.

Percy senses the tectonic shift within Annabeth and holds her tight, laying her back on the mattress and tucking himself in behind her. His arms wrap around her like he can prevent the earthquake, but all that tension can only do one thing: snap.

Luke loved her. It’s the one thing she knows. None of it makes sense if he never loved her. She has to make it make sense.

Most days her brain buries the ache. Annabeth is a runner; she is good at lacing up her shoes and hitting the road, but her feet cannot carry her far enough. She is the house she’s running away from. Luke’s influence is a painful design that fuels self-hatred and frustration, but the bones were good. At its core, the house was built with love, the kind you want to share with family. Before her fearlessness and fire were her own, they were his. Luke was the first person to put a weapon in her hand, and Annabeth is nothing if not a warrior. He made her to be the exact thing she needed to be to survive him.

Seven months after his death, and sometimes a day goes by where Annabeth doesn’t think about it. Some days are too full of Percy’s sunshine smile for the sky to dream of dimming. Other days—ones she keeps to herself—the thought of Luke shines in the rose-tinted lens of nostalgia. And then there are days like today where she is rendered immobile by the mere memory of him.

Closure is a sick and twisted joke. Luke’s love for Annabeth saved his soul and the world, just the way she wanted. All the pain and suffering of the past four years was worth it. She was right to believe in him. So why does the burden still burn into her shoulders?

Percy presses his lips to the back of Annabeth’s neck, drawing her back to the present. His arm rests underneath her neck and wraps around her shoulders while the other falls over and around her torso, linking their fingers over her heart. He’s grown considerably since the summer, a fact that bothers Annabeth until moments like this where the width of his shoulders eclipses her own. It almost fools her into thinking he can protect her from this.

“Easy.” His voice is low, whispered into her neck. “You’re okay. Just breathe with me, alright? I’ve got you.”

Each swell of Percy’s chest coaches Annabeth through her own. Inhale. Hold. Feel his hands squeeze each second. Exhale. Listen to him whisper affirmations like prayers into her skin. Repeat.

It takes a while, but Annabeth’s heart slows.

Percy’s voice resonates again her back. “What happened?”

This, she thinks, is the hardest part. Annabeth doesn’t have an empathy link like Percy and Grover, nor does she have someone with shared experience to speak to. In her struggle with Luke, she is truly alone.

“It’s not fair,” she manages, breath hitching.

“What isn’t?”

“That he—“ A stray tear leaks onto her pillow. Percy’s lips linger on her shoulder, patient and steady and everything Luke couldn’t be. Annabeth sobs, a mortifying sound, and she’s glad Percy can’t see her face as she presses it into her cold pillowcase. The stain of fallen tears waits for her, inviting her back into old pain. “That he loved me. It’s not fair that he loved me.”

Though he tries to hide it, Percy’s body goes rigid. They have fought about this on Annabeth’s rose-tinted days or whenever someone brings up Luke’s legacy, be it as hero, pawn, or monster. Part of Percy will always be the twelve year old boy who was betrayed by Luke, and part of Annabeth will always be the seven year old girl who found a family with him.

“Love isn’t always enough,” Percy says, and she can hear the tension in his jaw. Bless him though, he tries for her. “It’s not your fault he couldn’t do a single damn thing about it.”

He pulls her into his chest and lays his head on her shoulder, keeping her from falling off the bed while her body shakes. She withers at the realization that she can’t offer him anything in return, not even a promise that she’ll take his words to heart.

Luke did something about it: he died. He became the hero Annabeth saw in him after years of struggling, and then he left her again.

But he kept his promise.

Annabeth’s chest aches as it always does when she thinks about Luke, it just runs a bit deeper today. It was in his nature to cut to the bone.

“I just don’t want to feel like this anymore.” She sounds every bit the small, bitter runaway.

The cold of the pillow is replaced by Percy wiping away her tears and dabbing at her nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “What can I do? Tell me how to help.”

“Just stay with me.” She leans into his palm, kisses his wrist. “Hold me a little longer.”

“As long as you need,” Percy promises, dropping kisses along the line of her neck, her jaw, her cheek. “But I need you to look at me.”

They untangle their limbs for Annabeth to flop onto Percy’s chest. His arms wrap back around her, this time firm around her waist while his free hand slides to her neck, his thumb under her jaw to hold her gaze. His eyes blaze with the fierce love she is still learning to accept, the one that burns to protect.

“I love you so much,” he says, his voice aching as though it almost hurts. “And if I could take this away, I would. You don’t deserve it. I know we don’t... That he...” Percy frowns, then tightens his grip on her. “I know I don’t get it. I know. But I’m still here, you know? I don’t want you to be alone. Ever.”

The gears in Annabeth’s brain take a moment process, and her response comes out in a breathless, “I love you.” The phrase is warm, as it always is, like the sun shining through the rain on her window. Loving Percy turns the light on in every room she enters. The rest of her words fall short, though they’re honest. “I don’t know what to say.”

Percy’s thumb swipes across her cheek. “Me neither. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

She throws herself into the crook of his neck, knocking the air from his lungs. He just softens and holds the back of her head while tracing circles on her hoodie—steady, sweet, supporting. He holds her tight and kisses her temple with the same tenderness she presses into his collarbone: a small attempt at reciprocity, but a meaningful one nonetheless. They’re trying, which is all they can do.

#hey babes here’s some luke themed h/c with a side of spooning #truly an annie seeking missile #my percabeth #drabbles #my fic #ayesha tag #annie tag #bc anything mentioning luke goes there #iris messages #autumnmuses

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: Slightly suggestive flirting, fluff

A/N: This chapter is so cute omg I hope you guys like it <3

“Oh come on (Y/n)! It could be fun!” Twyla called after the girl, who she was currently chasing around the halls of the manors. The tall men in suits watched them but didn’t interact, not sure of what to do in the situation. The (h/c) haired girl ignored her, making lala noises with her fingers in her ear. “Real mature, babes, real mature!” When they got back to the girl’s room, Twyla closed the door, locking it so her friend couldn’t escape. She got on her knees, pleading and begging the girl.

“Twyla I can’t just pick up and go on a trip to Italy!” she shouted, forcing the girl to stand up. The tall girl grabbed her shoulders, shaking her shorter friend in her arms.

“Why nottt?” she whined out. (Y/n) smacked her hands from her shoulders growling some at her.

“A multitude of reasons, Twy! The main one being oh I don’t know, who’s gonna look after my damn bakery!” she hissed out the last part, throwing herself on the large bed, the blonde joining her shortly after. “I’ve got no one to watch the bakery, I don’t have any clothes nice enough to take and even if I did I’d have to travel by floo back home to get them! Also, who’s gonna water my plants? I love my plants, Twyla!” she ranted causing the girl to shush her.

“Relax, you worry too much and there’s a simple fix to all these so-called ‘problems’ you have.” she sat up, pulling the girl up with her. “Let’s start with problem one. You said you have to run the bakery, right?” (Y/n) nodded, curious of where the girl was going with this. “Easy, ask Tiana to run it for a while. She’s been looking to get more hours in since she just bought a house.”

“I can’t ask that of her! Plus, she can’t do all of that with the staff we have now, she’d be understaffed!” she said, watching the girl type away on her phone. She was always so amazed by Twyla’s ability to use muggle technology.

“Well lucky for you, you won’t have to ask her. I just did!” her boss gawked at her, going to tell her off but she continued speaking. “And plus, it’s summer. Do you know how many culinary art students are looking to get hands-on learning in an actual bakery? You don’t handle the application process anyways, Tiana does that. Remember, you stopped doing that because you’d cry any time you had to reject an application.” she made many valid points, slowly pulling her over to the side that wanted to go, wanting to be on a trip with Neville. “Also you’re the only owner who spends so much time working. Isn’t the point of owning a business to make people do shit for you?”

“That’s true.” she sighed, picking at the skin around her cuticles. “But what about my apartment? And my clothes?”

“Don’t you still talk to that old couple that sold the bakery building to you? Ask them to watch your plants!” she retorted, smirking triumphantly. Slowly but surely her reasons for not being able to go were dwindling. (Y/n) sighed before shrugging.

“You know what? Screw it, I’ll go.” Twyla squealed, grabbing the girl’s hand as she dragged her out the door.

“Hey tall man, where’s Neville?” she asked the guard who was posted outside. He cleared his throat, adjusting his sunglasses.

“In his office. Downstairs and to the left, miss. He’s currently in a me-” without another word she grabbed the girl, dragging her downstairs. They reached the large wooden doors that had two large men standing there causing the shorter girl to cower in fear. Their glares were intense as they stood up straighter.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked, his rough voice booming. The other one nodded along, leaning down to her height as he gave her a strong glare, vein on his forehead popping out.

“The boss is in a meeting so unless you’re someone special, get lost.” (Y/n) felt her lip quivering, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Oh you’re fucked buddy, that’s the boss’s girl. Come on, I’ll let you guys in.” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her. Turning around she saw two identical men, quite lanky and tall in stature. She couldn’t help but notice how they favored another certain Ginger she knew.

The one on the left pressed on the small earpiece in his ear, clearing his throat. “Hey boss, your lady friend is out here crying. You should get more observant guards.” he said giggling as a shout could be heard from beyond the large door. The men visibly paled but kept their composure. The door swung open revealing Neville, who adorned a white button up and black trousers, a pair of suspenders connecting the two together.

“I-I’m sorry boss, I didn’t know.” one of them stuttered out, sweat building up on his bald head. Neville gripped his shirt tightly pinning him to the wall causing the man’s feet to lift from the ground. (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sight. The man he was lifting had a large, muscular build making her wonder just how strong Neville really was.

“If you think that’s something, you should've seen him last night.” Twyla whispered out the corner of her mouth, the twins nodding along in agreement.

“You better listen because I’m gonna say this once.” Neville said, a calm tone which was somehow scary if he was to yell. The man nodded along frantically, wide eyes trained on the man. “That girl right there? She’s my flower. Let it be known that if she sheds a tear caused by any of you, you’re dead and what I’ll do will be worse than anything the Weasley twins could do combined.” and with that he dropped him, walking over to the girl. Weasley twins? So they were related to Ron! She felt her face flush as Neville leaned down, brushing away the tears that had threatened to fall from her eyes. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah I was just coming to tell you that I’ve made a decision. I’ll be joining you in Italy.” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at her lifting her up in a hug as he spun her around, laughing some. “B-but I don’t have any clothes so I still have to figure that out.” he sat her down, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Just buy new ones when we land.” he declared. She froze, scratching the back of her neck. That would be an easy solution if she hadn’t spent any extra savings she had on the night before.

“I don’t really have the money to do that..”she trailed off. Neville put something in her hands causing her to look down confused. In her hands was a black card, his name engraved in the front of it. “Is this...is this a black card?! I can’t take this. Plus what about you know, “ she cleared her throat, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. “My undergarments. I don’t have any on me for before we go shopping.” Neville smirked at her words, feeling particularly confident from her flustered expression. She was so soft, so...pure. Anytime he neared her she’d get all warm in the face and anytime he kissed her that same look would double. Temptation was his flower and he was tempted. Hearing her inquire about something that had innocent intent behind it had him thinking about anything but.

“Nonsense, pretty girl. Take my card and for your undergarments..” he trailed off, leaning down next to her ear. He placed his hand around her neck, gently squeezing it as he chuckled. “Let me take care of that. Better yet, let me buy the ones for the trip as well.” he whispered, nibbling the shell of her ear. (Y/n) squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. Was he doing this on purpose or was it a simple misunderstanding? Either way, she couldn’t stop the heat pooling between her legs. “I’m only messing with you cutie. However I wasn’t kidding, leave that to me.” with a final peck to her lips he stood up straight, adjusting his tie before heading back through the wooden doors, the twins following behind him.

“Nice meeting you (Y/n)!” they said in unison, offering her a smile before they closed the door after themselves.

��You know he totally wants to bang you, right?” Twyla said, causing the girl to glare at her. She held her hands up in defense, looking back at the girl as she began to walk off. “I’m just saying! It’s obvious. You should share a room with him when you go to Italy.”

“Do you..do you think he’d want that? I don’t wanna get in the way of-”

“Are you kidding me?! The man practically worships the very earth you walk on, why wouldn’t he?” Twyla exclaimed as the girl followed her blindly. (Y/n) gasped, looking up at where they were. Around them were large counters on the floor and ceiling. Marble countertops with a matching marble floor along with two large fridges and a state of the art oven. Ignoring Twyla’s rambling, she began to walk through the kitchen, inspecting and exploring every part of it. Her eyes landed on the pantry to which she opened, letting out another surprised noise. It was massive, food lining the walls, all organized to perfection. There was even a walk-in freezer and fridge down the hall!

“Twyla, I’ve gotta use this kitchen. If I don’t bake something in here I’m going to die.” she said, running out to the girl as she began to shake her back and forth. “Quick! Give me an excuse to so I don’t feel bad about messing things up!”

“Ooh! I love excuses! I mean, Neville’s having a meeting so you co-” before she could finish the girl put the kettle on before beginning to pull out various different bowls and ingredients.

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

“Well, do you have security plans?” Neville asked from the end of the table, quirking a brow at the italian man at the end of the table. He noticed even through the man’s fear that he probably didn’t understand what Neville had said fully. “Sorry, um, avete piani di sicurezza?” he asked, causing Blaise to quirk a brow at the man’s fluent italian. Neville rolled his eyes at him before turning his attention back to the man. He nodded, sliding back a file folder filled with papers.

“How long are we going to be there for?” Seamus asked.

“Does it matter? Money is money. Plus it’s not like you have anything important going on in your life, Finnegan.” Draco retorted which resulted in the shorter man growling as he grew red in the face.

“Don’t you dare fucking start. If you’re going to act like fools I’ll replace you with two lower levels in a heartbeat.” Neville gritted, not even looking up from the plans. He looked at the other man next to the italian man. “And you, what’s the exhibit worth exactly? If there’s no high hitting items we can already consider this a dud.”

“U-um. It’s estimated that it’s worth over 1.5 million, sir.” he responded, gulping as he reached for the water they had given him with a shaky hand. However, Neville wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Listen, did I ask you what it’s estimated to be? I asked for the exact cost. If you only have estimates then how bout I est-” he was interrupted by light knocking on the door. “Who is it now?! J-just come in.” he said, huffing out. The door opened followed by a quiet set of footsteps causing the inner circle of men to smile, giggling some. Curiosity got him, causing him to turn around, his expression instantly softening. “Petal? What are you doing here, angel girl?” he asked, pulling her closer but being careful of the large tray in her hand.

“I thought you might want some snacks for your little meeting. I hope there’s enough for everyone.” she said, setting the tray down on the table. It was funny really, comical, the way the doily and flower covered tray contrasted with all the men in the room. On the tray was a large array of different foods. Scones, tea biscuits, even tea sandwiches. In the center was a beautiful antique floral teapot along with matching cups.

“This looks amazing, princess!” he exclaimed, his stomach grumbling in agreement. She giggled at that, causing his ears to tint pink. “There’s most certainly enough. Go on fellas, don’t be-” before he could continue the men began to grab at the food, swooping in like vultures.

“Oh my god, this is like heaven!” Seamus moaned out, bits of sandwich falling from his mouth. Ron nodded along in agreement, a bunch of unintelligible words leaving his mouth. Even Blaise was wide eyed as he sipped at the tea, taking a bite of his tea biscuit.

“Yeah, is there any more of this? What kind of tea is this? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of having it before.” he said, taking another sip. She looked at them sheepishly, leaning into Neville’s embrace.

“It’s butterfly pea tea infused with strawberry and honey. Also there’s more of everything! I kinda went overboard.” she responded. Neville smiled, grabbing her hand before placing a kiss on top of it.

“Well thank you, I really appreciate it. You’re so lovely.” he muttered, turning her hand to place a kiss on her palm before proceeding to do the same all up her arm. She giggled some at the action, looking away from him shyly.

“Well I better get going before Twyla buys more stupid things with Draco’s black card.” she turned once as she got to the door. “Good luck with your meeting!”

Neville sighed happily before turning back around, looking at the men at the table before them. He grabbed whatever scraps the ravegers had left, eyeing everyone intensely. “What?” he spat out angrily.

“Mate you are so whipped!”

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TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x you #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #mafia!neville #mafia!au #mafia

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midnightsnace · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Worlds

Summary: Fix it fic of sorts after the trauma that was episode 6 of the Loki series. Loki is in pain after discovering Mobius doesn’t remember him. He’s been living in apocalypses to avoid capture by this new TVA until he formulates a plan to get his Mobius back.

Rating: T for later chapters

Emotional angst.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

“And so that’s where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds.”

The ends of a thousand worlds. The words of his accomplice echoed through the god’s mind as he fiddled with the straps of his worn and tattered holster. The fluorescent above him flickered with every gust of wind that battled against the sides of the building that Loki was crouched down in. He slid his long legs out against the tiled floor in front of him and sat with his head propped against the wall. He sighed. Loki tapped his foot on the door of the space he was hiding in to close it, drowning out the cries of fear from the people outside in their final hours of life. There he sat waiting for the tempad to charge. Alone. Living in another world where every person he met would be dead by the end of the day. Another world where Mobius didn’t exist. His Mobius.

Was this what it was like? For her? To never be able to stay in one place for more than a day? To always see the same faces riddled with fear as they awaited their painful fate? To only know destruction, screaming, fires, earthquakes, the literal gates of hel? To be utterly alone with your only desire to live in the hope that one day your glorious purpose would be fulfilled?

Glorious purpose.

Loki scoffed. The god didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Taking down the TVA was a complete failure. The chances for fixing the mess they started seemed impossible now as branches grew and new timelines erupted, with endless TVAs to monitor every universe. At least, that’s what Loki assumed. He knew next to nothing about what they had unleashed. It wasn’t the same TVA. Different hunters, different analysts, different ruler. Many he recognized, but they were still different people. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t the real B. He wasn’t his Mobius. And Loki was at a complete loss on how to find them again.

The first tempad he stole only brought him back to the place he snatched it from. The same Time Variance Authority where Mobius didn’t remember him and not a single file existed for Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, God of Outcasts, God of Lies. Even when he dragged the analyst through the timedoor into the roxxcart parking lot to access his memories, nothing existed of him. No laughter over silly metaphors, mischief at pompeii, not even the memory of their first encounter in the elevator. It was like they never met. This led to Loki wasting away their days hopping from one disaster to the next until his brain racked up a solution. The TVA never once did follow him. Why would they? No one remembered his brilliant discovery about the apocalypses. He could run free. But as the days whittled by, the hope Loki had began to fade into nothingness.

For awhile he kept track of the places he went and the time that had passed.

Day 1 - I finally stole a tempad and left that dreadful place. I came here first. Hoping I’d see you. But I guess that’s not how time travel works in apocalypses. No trace we were ever here. The storm reminded me of my brother. I hope to see him again one day. Now that I know we could have been friends. Everything was eventually going to be okay.

Day 24 - I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop awaiting the earthquake of 2098. Met a lovely redhead with the most peculiar of tattoos. But alas! Little does she know this friendship could never blossom in the wake of death!

Day 37 - I miss him. My brother. The pain that solitude brings makes me think of home more often. How ironic that the very place that caused me the most pain I miss. But anything is better than this. So today I visited home right before its destruction. I saw my brother. I saw Thor from afar. Oh how I wish I could have talked to him somehow and tell him i’m sorry for being such an ass.

Being there brought back memories of the silly metaphor he made using Mobius’ lunch. The corners of Loki’s mouth crept into a smile at the thought. But that smile faded away in the next second and was replaced with tears.

Day 56 - I went to Pompeii again. I stood in the shadows. I tried to picture your expressions of skepticism at my insane ideas. I tried to picture how your face lit up with pride and joy when you realized I was right. I wish I could have stayed longer but I never can anywhere I go.

He whistled like a bird before he exited through the time door.

By day 125 he had lost his will to live again. It was their fourth visit to Lamentis-1. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part to journey here once more and feel both the pains of betrayal and heartache at the prospect of never seeing Mobius again. The second time they had visited Lamentis, the god decided to stay until the very last second with the false hope that maybe him facing death would create a nexus event. His mobius would come find him and save him at the last second. But the time door never came. Maybe it was because he knew there was a chance to escape and he could take it. Or maybe it was because there were so many time branches no one would care to fix a world that was about to end.

“You were always meant to be alone.”

And so this time Loki threw the tempad to the ground and waited. He watched as the lethal disaster unfolded before his eyes once more, ready to die. Alone. Alone with no one to assure him everything will be alright in the face of death. Not a single soul would know he was gone. No one would care.

But at the last second they saw something on the tempad that made them change their mind. A glimmer of hope.

Any hope Loki had, a glorious purpose he had left to fulfill, it was in finding Mobius. It was the only desire left that fueled him to keep existing. He was all that mattered. His only friend. The only person left among the universes who trusted him and saw beyond his flaws. The only person left who hadn’t betrayed the fragile levels of trust the god could give. He was his hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

And so he found himself walking the streets of New York in the summer of 2197, on the brink of some disaster he knew nothing about. Not a single idea when it would happen, where it would occur, and what he was doomed to witness. He saw something that could potentially lead him to his destination. The tempad had given him an alert for an aura match - two of the same people in one place. An oddity. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

They weren’t just any entity either. They were registered hunters in the TVA database. Which meant one had to be from another universe.

And he knew the TVA would be coming for them.

He had to get there first.

Loki speed walked down the sidewalk frantically scanning his surroundings for any clue as to what was happening. He couldn’t read any signs of fear or confusion on the faces of those who passed him. He didn’t know how much time he had.

Upon hearing shouts of anger, Loki broke out into a run across the street towards the source, dodging every dystopian vehicle that nearly collided with him in the process. It was coming from the roof of the parking tower. With a snap of his magic, Loki teleported himself to the top, hiding behind a parked vehicle to assess what he was working with.

There were two agents standing about 10 feet away who looked nearly identical, one waving her arms frantically while the other looked on stoically, possibly from shock, with a pruning stick in hand. Loki locked eyes on the tempad fastened to the belt of the frantic one. Then he glanced at the one in the other hunter’s hand.

Well shit.

Now he had to figure out which agent had jumped from the other timeline. He quickly flashed himself closer to the two, but not before one caught on that someone was there.

“I was given orders by a man to…what was that?” one of the hunters asked.

Loki crouched down farther on the other side of the wall. He reached for a dagger, ready to pounce once their suspicions subsided. They listened intently to the words from the first hunter for the first clue on who to attack.

“He sent me here to grab this,” the hunter pulled up someone on her tempad, “entity and leave. Those were the orders given to me. So if you’ll excuse me.”

The other hunter planted herself in front of her clone. “I can’t let you do that. Not until you’ve told me everything I want to know. How are you me? How is this possible?”

The first hunter was from an alternate timeline. Loki took that as his cue. But before he could sneak behind the hunter, he was shot backwards by a blast of energy from a ring of light.

Out from the ring stepped a peculiar man with graying hair who was wearing blue robes and an assymetrical cloak that sparked the curiosity of the confused hunter. Within a split second, the portal closed behind him. Loki laid very still on the concrete and held his breath in the hopes that the man would believe him to be dead.

“You know I can tell when someone is playing dead.”

Loki grimaced and winced as he heaved himself off the ground. He came face to face with the strange man, his hand lingering in the air where he placed the pocket for his dagger.

“You.” was all the man said.

“Am I supposed to know you?” the god questioned.

“You always manage to show up in New York again at the most in-opportune times.” The man raised his hands and Loki mimicked his movements, summoning his daggers in place.

“I’m gonna assume we’ve met before sir, perhaps in the future? I don’t know! And i’m terribly sorry about New York! Look let me explain…” they lowered their hands in their attempt to make peace with the angry man in front of him.

“Dr. Strange.” He kept his fist in the air, golden sparks flying from whatever spell he had in mind to attack the prince with. “And until you prove otherwise Im going to assume you are here for hostile reasons.”

Loki blinked. Well he’s kind of not wrong, they thought.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t prove anything else.” and with that the god blasted the sorcerer into the nearest column with their magic and teleported across the space.

Loki noticed that one of the hunters had disappeared. He assumed she had returned to the TVA. The other was charging towards him fast. He whipped out his daggers to face his attacker, but suddenly his feet were dragged out from under him and he hit the concrete hard. He was being dragged backwards, body scrapping against the concrete. So fast, that the god could barely think about what was happening to him.

When he came to his senses he cut the magic ropes with his powers and rolled across the ground. So he was dealing with another magic user, this “Dr. Strange.” Loki teleported again before he was up on his feet to where he was standing directly behind the hunter.

“D-11…” Dr. Strange said with a hint of caution in his tone.

So this was the man Hunter D-11 was working for. Before the hunter could turn around to face them, Loki snatched the tempad off her belt and snapped himself to the furthest side of the building. Dr. Strange reacted quickly and stood his ground in front of Loki, prepared to attack again.

“Loki, perhaps we can work out some type of deal. What is it that you want? Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

Offer him a deal? Nah.

“I’m done trusting people I’ve just met. All they ever do is stab me in the back.” he conjured the time door behind him.

Strange titled his head. “You do realize we can follow you right straight back to the TVA?”

Loki turned to face him and D-11. “You’ll never find me. You won’t know the first place to look.” The time door closed with Loki inside of it, before the two even had a chance to reach their hands out to follow the god.

…….

And that’s how Loki had ended up here. At Roxxcart again, waiting for the new tempad to charge up before hopping through timelines again.

He breathed in deeply as he felt the bubble of excitement, relief, and happiness build in his chest for the first time in months at the prospect of achieving his goal. Being reunited with the only one who mattered: Mobius. His Mobius.

But as he released his breath in a sigh, his chest tightened again and worry clouded his mind. What if this didn’t work? What if this was just another dead end? What if this was just another one of the countless TVAs that might exist in the vast multiverse?

At first, all Loki felt was sadness and regret in the days following Sylvie’s betrayal. But now all he felt was anger boiling deep inside him. That same unwelcome feeling he experienced after discovering his father lied to him. The feeling that harbored in the abyss of Thanos’ chambers. The feeling that never left his soul until Mobius looked him in the eyes and assured him that he didn’t have to be the villain in his story.

She had taken everything from him and he was afraid he couldn’t wash away the resentment this time. He wanted desperately to feel anything besides the pain he had known for the past year.

He needed to feel love again.

“He cares about you.”

Loki couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the tempad and tapped the time door request for the TVA home base. He drew in a shaky breath as he paused in front of the portal.

This was it.

He was either about to be reunited with his greatest source of happiness, or find himself hiding in apocalypses again for months as he searched for another plan.

And he would do it. He would search through a thousand worlds to find him.

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melanielocke · 3 years

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter one

Lucie, Cordelia, Thomas and Alastair are spending the summer in a small town at the edge of a forest. Lucie hopes she can finally tell Cordelia how she really feels, while Thomas hopes to get to know Alastair a bit better. Alastair and Cordelia are glad to get some time away from their family and their parents separating. But something is not right in the forest. People are disappearing, and a creature warns Thomas that he is in danger, that a debt to a powerful being has not yet been repaid and they will need to combine all their abilities to stop what’s coming, and save Thomas.

CW: past toxic relationship, past abuse, mentions of alcoholism, PTSD It won't be super gory, but can be creepy

Tag list: @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @nott-the-best

Tagging @julywood because Thomas is one of the main characters

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32505550/chapters/80620474

‘Are you finished packing, Lulu?’

Lucie heard her father’s voice from behind the door of her bedroom, but she didn’t respond immediately. She was working on her story, and needed to finish this chapter so she could email it to Cordelia. She needed to concentrate, and that required blocking out all sounds coming from the outside world. The chapter had taken a bit longer than anticipated and the ghost of one of Cordelia’s dead boyfriends had somehow made its way into the chapter. Fictional Cordelia had had many boyfriends and all had died tragic deaths to make way for the next. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend and Lucie wasn’t planning another one yet. The real Cordelia had only dated her brother James for a while a year ago. Lucie didn’t think she wanted real Cordelia to have a boyfriend either.

The door opened and her father peeked inside. ‘You haven’t started packing at all, have you?’

‘I need to finish my chapter for Cordelia,’ Lucie insisted. ‘She will be stuck in a very long car ride with only Alastair for company and she needs something to occupy herself with.’

Lucie would be staying the summer with her parents in her grandmother’s manor, whereas her grandmother would be traveling to southern Italy with a couple of friends. While Lucie was usually excited about spending her summer there, she had feared it would be lonely considering her brother James wouldn’t be coming this year. He’d graduated school and he and his best friend Matthew were going to travel across the continent by themselves. She’d feared she’d be alone all summer, but then Thomas, her closest friend besides Cordelia, had convinced his parents to travel to the same town this summer, renting a cottage nearby her grandmother’s house.

‘Alright, I’ll pack for you,’ her father said. ‘But if you find your swimsuit or your sparrow plush toy is missing, then I will not be held responsible.’

‘Jack is coming,’ Lucie insisted, referring to her sparrow plush toy she’d once named after Jack Sparrow, and she put her laptop away to put her plush toy in her bag.

After a short moment of contemplation she put her new pink bikini and an older black and red striped one piece in there too. There was a lake close to grandmother’s manor and Lucie expected she’d go swimming regularly. She returned to her laptop, and tried to think of a good ending for the chapter. She didn’t like to end everything in a cliffhanger, but the story needed to remain intriguing.

‘No clothes? Underwear?’ her father asked.

Lucie considered just bringing everything suitable for the summer but realized they didn’t have that much space in the car. So instead she opened her closet, picked out some tops, skirts, dresses and jumpsuits and put them into her bag. She would probably regret leaving something behind later on but there was no time. Just to be sure, she went over the closet again and added a couple more dresses. She couldn’t leave her new yellow wrap dress behind, she’d sent Cordelia a picture of her wearing it a couple of weeks ago after she’d bought it and Cordelia had commented that she looked gorgeous. Lucie suspected it was just Cordelia being nice but the comment had still made her heart run wild.

She added enough underwear to last her several weeks and then went back to adding clothes at random until the bags were full.

‘Done,’ she announced, and she went back to her laptop, finishing her chapter.

Adding in a ghost was a difficult choice, but Lucie had decided fictional ghosts behaved similarly to real ghosts. Lucie had never seen a ghost of a dead boyfriend though. She hadn’t seen Jesse Blackthorn even once since he’d died four years ago.

When the chapter was finished, she emailed it to Cordelia, hoping she would receive it before she and her brother left home. Cordelia had almost not been allowed to come stay with her family this summer, her father tended to be strict and wanted to keep Cordelia at home. There had been some trouble lately at the Carstairs home though, and Cordelia’s mother had decided it would be good for her to go spend time with Lucie. Cordelia’s brother Alastair had decided to come with her, although Lucie wasn’t sure why. Either way, Lucie had decided she and Cordelia were going to have the greatest summer ever.

***

Thomas hadn’t been this excited about going on a vacation with his parents in a while. The small town where they’d be staying sounded boring, and certainly wasn’t the location most boys his age wanted to spend the summer, but then Thomas wasn’t interested in drinking and partying all night and would much rather explore forests and go swimming in lakes with Lucie Herondale. That wasn’t the main reason he was excited though. A week ago, Lucie had confirmed her close friend Cordelia Carstairs would be staying the summer with her, and a couple of days later Lucie had informed him Cordelia’s brother Alastair would be coming as well.

Thomas had gone to school with Alastair for a year, Alastair a year ahead of him, and at the time Alastair had been rather awful, especially to Thomas’ friends James and Matthew. To be fair, Alastair’s jokes about Matthew behaving like his mother were funny. Matthew did behave like his mother, always coming to collect him when he’d spent too much time around Alastair. Why he’d fallen in love with Alastair anyway, he wasn’t sure. He’d been intrigued by the mystery, he guessed, Alastair’s sad eyes and vicious tongue.

But after that year, Alastair had changed schools, and had gone to school with Lucie and Cordelia instead and he’d heard much from Lucie about him. Alastair had defended Lucie from bullies had kept to himself and created this image of someone who was untouchable, no longer a bully, but he would destroy you if you even considered hurting his sister or her friend Lucie. Thomas was once more intrigued. While James and Matthew were still angry, Thomas had decided he must have changed and he was thankful Alastair had protected Lucie, heaven knew that girl knew how to get herself into trouble.

Thomas checked his phone for the millionth time. He was done packing, but his parents were not. Lucie hadn’t send any new texts and Thomas suspected she needed to pack or finish the latest chapter of her novel before her parents left. She’d listed some ideas that might help him spend more time alone with Alastair, although Thomas was not yet sure if he wanted that. He wasn’t out to anyone but Lucie yet, and although he intended to tell his parents, he wasn’t yet sure how. He wasn’t yet sure he was ready for a relationship, and although he liked Alastair, he was also a bit intimidated by him.

Barbara had sent a message, and Thomas opened it. It was a picture of her and Oliver in front of the Eiffel Tower. Barbara and her boyfriend Oliver had gone to Paris to celebrate their two year anniversary and to celebrate Barbara graduating as a nurse.

Thomas texted a response and put his phone in his bag and walked outside, checking to see if his parents needed any help. A couple of gnomes were running around the garden. Thomas didn’t mind them, they took good care of the garden, and were far from dangerous, but they could get up to mischief. He’d learned that whenever cookies, forks or socks went missing, it was usually the garden gnomes. They lived in forests sometimes, but also liked to build their homes in human gardens. Of course, most humans had no idea they were there, but Thomas could see all sorts of strange creatures. Most were harmless, so Thomas never minded much. He didn’t seek out the supernatural, but he didn’t mind its presence.

Both his mother and Barbara had the same gift, and although Eugenia didn’t she had learnt to see the gnomes. Thomas had found out everyone could learn to see the supernatural if they knew what to look for and knew it was out there. Most people didn’t believe so they didn’t see, but Eugenia had grown up with a mother and siblings who saw everything whether they wanted to or not. She had always known what was out there.

Eugenia and her friend Kamala would be spending the summer in India this year, they’d saved up for months for their big trip. Thomas suspected they might be more than just friends but so far Eugenia had not confirmed this.

‘We’re almost done,’ his mother promised, handing him a plate of cookies. ‘Give some to the gnomes, will you? To show them our thanks for taking care of the garden.’

Thomas went into the backyard where even more gnomes had gathered. It was difficult to imagine most people could look at this scene and see nothing out of the ordinary, when several gnomes were running around, holding something shiny in their hands.

‘The car keys,’ Thomas groaned out loud and he put the plate of cookies on the ground.

‘You can have these, but please give me the keys back,’ he said.

The gnomes said something, but Thomas didn’t understand their language, and then attacked the plate of cookies, dropping the car keys in the process. Thomas picked them up before the gnomes realized anything, and picked up the plate as soon as it was empty. Gnomes could be monsters when it came to cookies and they didn’t have table manners, they just attacked any food they saw. Thomas couldn’t blame them.

Thomas quickly washed the plate and put it back with the others before joining his parents again, who were finally finished with everything.

‘Feeding the gnomes again, Sophie?’ his father asked. ‘Are you sure that many cookies are healthy for them?’

His mother shrugged. ‘They’re gnomes, Gideon. Who knows what’s healthy for them?’

His father couldn’t argue with that logic. Thomas wondered if there would be gnomes too at the cottage where they would be staying, or if other creatures would show themselves. Thomas had learned that if there was a myth or any kind of story depicting it, it probably existed somewhere, but most such beings were very rare and so far Thomas had mostly encountered gnomes.

Checking the car one last time to see if they had everything, Thomas got into the passenger seat next to his mother who would be driving, his father behind. Thomas had gotten too tall to fit in the backseat of this car and sitting there for a long drive would be unnecessarily painful. Besides, Thomas was better at reading maps than his father, and if they got lost they would depend on him to find the way.

As they drove, Thomas couldn’t help but think of Alastair Carstairs. Why had he decided to join the Herondales? Thomas didn’t think he was particularly close to Lucie, although he knew Will Herondale had a weak spot for anything that carried the name Carstairs. He wasn’t surprised the Herondales had invited him along. Could he be thinking of Thomas? And would Lucie’s plans to get them to spend time together help, or only make everything worse?

***

‘I cannot get this bag to close,’ Cordelia complained.

‘Perhaps that’s because there’s a limit to how much fits in there,’ Alastair said without looking up.

He was finished packing, of course. Cordelia, on the other hand, had decided she had not yet enough clothes packed and with some suggestions from her mother and aunt Risa had tried to add more.

‘Don’t you have another bag for me?’ Cordelia asked, annoyed.

She loved Alastair, but sharing a room with him was a bit too much and they’d gotten on each other’s nerves. They were currently staying with their aunt Risa, their mother too, but Risa’s apartment was a bit small for all of them. It was a temporary situation and Cordelia hoped that after the summer she and Alastair didn’t have to share a room anymore. At least in the Herondale manor, there were plenty of rooms and Cordelia intended to get one as far away from her brother as possible. Alastair tended to be neat, and his half of the room was always perfectly in order, whereas Cordelia was a bit messier, and both were irritated with the other.

‘You can check if any of my bags have some space left. Or you can leave the bag opened and put it in the car like this and hope it doesn’t end with clothes littered everywhere.’

Cordelia went to the building’s parking garage and to the car and put the bag there, half open, making sure nothing fell out. No one but the two of them would be fitting in there with how much Alastair had packed. Cordelia couldn’t imagine he’d need all that, but she knew better than to attempt to convince her brother he could leave something behind.

Back inside, she saw Alastair sitting on his bed, vaguely staring into the distance as if he was daydreaming.

‘Alastair, stop doing that,’ Cordelia said.

Calling his name usually brought him out even when his senses were closed off from the world around him. Alastair had an ability that Cordelia best described as him being Harry Potter’s pensieve. He could revisit his own memories, and if they allowed it, other people’s memories as well, as well as bring people with him into memories. Alastair tended to stay out of other people’s memories, but could get lost in his own. Outside their family, no one knew about it and Alastair preferred to keep it that way.

The Carstairs family had always been aware of the supernatural, of course. Once their father Elias had carried the magic sword cortana and fought evil creatures with it. That had been a long time ago though, and Cordelia owned cortana now, but she had never used it to fight anything beyond straw men in the backyard. She didn’t have any abilities though, not beyond her connection the sword, nothing like Alastair’s odd memory. Neither of them understood why he was that way.

‘Were you revisiting your break up again?’ Cordelia asked then.

She knew he’d been revisiting that memory over and over lately, although she didn’t understand why. It couldn’t possibly make him feel better, could it? Of course, Alastair wasn’t exactly known for making the healthiest choices when it came to coping.

‘Charles has been texting me,’ Alastair said, his face blank. ‘I made sure that when I broke up with him, I was very clear about not wanting him to contact me. I wanted to see if there was anything I said that might have made my meaning unclear, any invitation for him to keep texting me.’

‘I don’t think Charles has ever listened to a thing you said,’ Cordelia said. ‘That’s his problem, not yours. Have you blocked his number yet?’

Alastair didn’t say anything.

‘You can block him,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘And you should. It’s creepy how he keeps texting you.’

As far as Cordelia was concerned, Charles had been creepy long before that, ever since he began a relationship with her brother despite Alastair only being sixteen at the time when Charles was six years older than him. Charles must have known how wrong and creepy that was, even if Alastair hadn’t.

Alastair hadn’t told anyone about his relationship, not ready to come out yet, which must have been convenient to Charles. Cordelia had only found out four months ago when she’d started to worry about Alastair, how he’d seemed more nervous and prickly than usual, how he’d lost weight from not eating. Reluctantly, Alastair had told her about his relationship, and Cordelia had been horrified to learn just how much abuse he’d accepted, believing that was how relationships worked. After a month of Cordelia trying to convince him of how toxic Charles was, Alastair had broken up with him. She’d been very protective of him ever since finding out, and was glad he’d decided to come stay with the Herondales with her this summer. Some time away from everything would be good for him, right?

Then Cordelia had found out Alastair had been keeping even more secrets from her, this one surrounding their father. Cordelia had always loved her father and looked up to him, a former warrior who’d slain the supernatural horror that had taken his brother and sister in law, a former hero who’d fallen ill in later life. A while ago their cousin Jem, who was a psychiatrist, had visited, despite their father trying to keep him away from their family, and he’d noticed Alastair was not doing well after an anger outburst. Cordelia and her mother had always assumed Alastair’s moodiness and anger outbursts were just him being a difficult teenager, although at eighteen he was getting a bit old for that. Jem, familiar with mental disorders, had recognized symptoms of something more.

He had recommended Alastair see a therapist. After some pressure from both her and Jem, Alastair had gone and he’d been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. Cordelia had found out father was not sick, but addicted to alcohol instead. Alastair had spent years protecting her from the effects, attempting to take care of father while he was drunk so she have the illusion of a normal childhood. Now that she knew, she guessed she understood a bit better why Alastair had thought what Charles had offered was love.

‘I guess I can block him,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m serious,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘You have to stop revisiting bad memories, you’ll only get hurt again. I don’t like seeing you hurt.’

Alastair took his phone out his pocket, presumably blocked Charles’ number, and put it back.

‘Are you ready to go, Layla?’ he asked.

When Cordelia was young, she’d loved the story of Layla and Majnun her mother used to tell her, and Alastair and her mother had taken to calling her Layla.

‘Ready when you are,’ Cordelia said. ‘Lucie just emailed me the latest chapter of the beautiful Cordelia. I’ll have plenty to do on the way.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Lucelia #Thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fic #fanfiction #paranormal au

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mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

Who Do You Love?

Pairing: David Budd x Female Reader

Summary: After some months that David’s been working for the Home Secretary, you notice he’s been acting differently. Not wanting to overanalyze the situation, the signs are just too hard to ignore, so when it’s time to confront him there’s only one real question to ask.

Warnings: Bodyguard (2018) TV series spoilers! Adult themes. Explicit language. Light smut. Infidelity/cheating. Mentions of war, PTSD, political assassination, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, paranoia, and attempted suicide. Sad vibes, probably. We’re not gonna have a good time.

Disclaimer: This piece goes hand-in-hand with All For You. It’s not required to read beforehand, but it would be nice. As far as the TV series, yeah, don’t even read these if you’re still planning to watch the show. If you don’t care, you may proceed.

Title Inspiration: “Who Do You Love?” by The Chainsmokers ft. 5 Seconds of Summer

A/N: I want a happy David, I really do, but I’m a heartless writer. I took a break from the smut, so it’s not a huge bulk of the fic this time. I hope y’all still like it! Happy New Year!

Another night alone was not unusual for you as of late, having grown accustomed to it ever since David had taken up the job of protecting Home Secretary, Julia Montague. Neither you nor David could’ve foreseen his courageous efforts in neutralizing the terrorist attack on the train back home would thrust him into his new position, furthermore the extent of its outcome in his personal life.

It wasn’t a hidden secret that David resented most politicians, and you knew of Julia from the news and her political ambitions in pushing a bill to increase security surveillance. David’s job put a big emphasis on confidentiality, so for his superiors to throw him into a public political warzone was a bit suspicious to you. There was something that didn’t add up, and you couldn’t just outright ask David whose side he was on in all this.

After neglecting the mountain of dirty laundry, tonight was dedicated to the domestic chore. It was nothing out of the ordinary mixing your batch with David’s, but he had a habit of leaving things in his clothes pockets, so it was routine for you to check everyone. You’d moved onto one of the costly tailored button-ups he wore to work and feel something protruding from the shirt pocket. You dig your hand in and fish out a tube of lipstick. Strange. You didn’t use this brand of cosmetics, and even more so the garment smelt different.

Under normal circumstances, this type of discovery would raise a red flag, but you recall one of David’s first days on the job as her bodyguard, the intern had clumsily spilt Julia’s coffee all over her outfit just before she was about to do a live interview, and David had offered her the shirt off his back, essentially saving the day. The man was just too dedicated to his job sometimes, so you shrug it off, but this wouldn’t be the first time you would notice something out of place.

It really started after the first assassination attempt that was made on Julia’s life. With the rate she was going at, her political status had made her a prime target to those opposed to RIPA-18. It was very frightening, you figured that much for her, David had seen worse in war. You just about had a heart attack when you reunited with him that night, the blood still stained on his clothes and missed splotches on his skin.

The both of you clung onto each other all night, lost within the throes of passion. It might as well have been one of the most intense nights yet, even then you could tell something changed by his movements. You didn’t think much about it at first because there’s already so much wrong with him, you’ve yet to learn all his mood swings.

Then one day you’d gotten sick, and discovered it was because you were pregnant with David’s child. One of the few things that made you forget about all the aches and pains that David unintentionally caused, was remembering the beautiful smile on his face when you revealed the news to him. You knew how much happiness Ella and Charlie brought him, you could only imagine what that would feel like, your own family with David.

He was so overjoyed in the beginning. He had quickly phoned his mother, who’d visited and even stayed a few days with you when David’s new position became more demanding of him, claiming she was worried about you being alone. You didn’t deserve to experience this alone, but it was sure heading that way.

Lately, you’ve found yourself occupying the Budd household quite more than often when David’s mom went back home. With David being on duty almost 24/7, you were completely alone, so the little family welcomed you.

Legally, on paper, David was still married to Vicky. It was something you weren't going to verbally admit bothered you, but oddly enough it did. What with the mood you’ve been in as of late, it ate at a part of you. They were separated and the divorce papers were well on track until David’s “promotion” paused the process.

There’s still not a hostile fiber in you towards Vicky. She’d moved on well, been on several dates with someone else, and things were looking great for her. It was lowkey, not even David knew about it, not that he even stuck around or bothered to care. It had to come out eventually because it would affect Ella and Charlie’s lives.

You watch as Vicky rounds the table after placing a cup of tea in front of you then sitting in the seat across and asking how you’re holding up.

You contemplate for a split second if you should be honest or not, but who else could you confine to at the moment? No one else could possibly understand. Vicky herself may not even, but she knew David more than most people did, so surely, she could see where you’re coming from to some degree, right?

Letting out a big sigh, you answer her truthfully, “I’m...not well, Vicky,” your eyes drop down to the cup in front of you, finger tracing the rim, the hot cloud of smoke of the concoction almost burns your skin.

“Oh, poor thing,” she says, extending her hand over to place it on top of your other one on the table, “it’s the pregnancy. It has to be. It’s taking a toll on you. I can tell.” You look up at her and almost want to cry. No one noticed it was more than symptoms of pregnancy. You were bottling up so much.

“Let me tell you, while I love Ella and Charlie, pregnancy was not a breeze…” she started to ramble, but you quickly cut her off, exhausted of people telling you the same thing over and over, unintentionally, blaming the innocent baby.

“No. I don’t think it’s that. I don’t want to blame anything on the pregnancy,” you say straight up. You got yourself into this mess, you went headfirst knowing the baggage David came with and you knew full well that protection wasn’t at the forefront in the affairs. Ready or not, you both went in this together and brought a baby into the picture.

Vicky stares, confused, but still genuinely concerned, “then what else could be wrong?” When you didn't immediately respond, she knew it had to be one other thing, or person, and you just didn’t want to admit, well out loud, “David?”

You only nod; you knew you were going to have to face the music sooner or later. So, you start listing things you’ve observed that have caused you to grow suspicious over the course of the last few months. You just hoped you didn’t sound like a mad woman in front of her.

The one time your phone had died, and he let you use his to place a food delivery. You couldn’t unlock his phone, trying every possible combined set of numbers close to David, only to come to a conclusion that the access code had changed. Visibly distressed, he realizes you were attempting to unlock his work phone. You knew that was his though. What work phone?

You didn’t even know he had one of those, let alone why did it have the same crack on the screen in the exact same spot as his personal one? You feigned stupidity and blamed it on exhaustion. Deep down David knew you were suspecting something was up, and he ended up placing the order for dinner that night himself.

The other time you confronted David about coming home smelling heavily of another woman. Whatever, whoever, her perfume was strong, and it made you nauseous. The pregnancy didn’t even do you any favors on this one with your senses heightened and overly sensitive.

Of course, he smelled of another woman, the person he was assigned to protect. You could see all the holes in his alibi. He was lying, and it hurt most when he indirectly admitted your mood swings were irritating him and then flipped it all on you, saying you were overthinking the situation and getting all paranoid for no reason. Accused you of not trusting him, when truth was you had the utmost faith in him, but not when the evidence was piling up.

There’s a solemn look that washed over Vicky’s face. She had expected more tales of David’s PTSD, but none of what you spilled alluded to it. This time David couldn’t blame the effects of war on your suspicions. However, Vicky knew that this was you and David, and if there was a pair that could survive love’s tumultuous doings then it was you two.

“There’s a lot of coincidences, yes, but this is you and David,” she says, grasping your hand for support because she could see the moisture in your eyes building up, “is it silly of me to admit I was always jealous of you,” she confesses, trying to steer the conversation a different route.

She didn’t want you to think she was brushing off your worries, but to remind you that everything you and David had been through to get to this point to be together, whatever you both were dealing now wasn’t anything you two couldn’t overcome. There were high hopes for you and David in Vicky’s mind.

A small smile cracks your face, and you bring your vacant hand up to dab at the inner corner of your eyes, just before the tears start to race down, “jealous? Of what?” It was almost shocking to think you had something she was jealous of.

“Every time you visited us,” she starts, “I could tell David held so much admiration for you,” and you know she’s not trying to hurt your feelings, but it’s taking a bit to figure out where she’s going with this.

“That’s silly,” you scoff lightly, “you both got married and had two kids, surely there was no doubt,” then bring the cup up to your lips for a small sip.

“But there was and look where we ended up?” she says. Your lips cave in to form a tight line in response, and carefully place the cup back down on the dish, before she follows up, “you two are finally together.”

“Vicky,” you pipe up, not knowing where to begin. It was never your intention to steal David’s heart away from another.

“I’m not saying any of this because I’m mad at you. No. I’ve never truly hated you. You’re a good person and you’re finally getting your happily ever after. Don’t ever stop fighting for it,” she comes out wholeheartedly, and this time you make no attempt to keep the tears at bay. It stung to hold them back anyways.

Vicky gets up from her seat, walking the short steps to yours, to wrap her arounds around you. You immediately cling onto her arms and just cry, finally letting everything out.

“Seriously, don’t think of the worst,” she starts advising, while rubbing your back, “David will always come back to you,” she pulls you away from her before reminding you, “you knew going into this wasn’t going to be easy.”

You feel so pathetic. What she said was completely true, you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. There’s no doubt you love David and want to be with him through the good, the bad, and the ugly, so you nod and try to keep your chin up. It wasn’t to appease her, you were going to get back up, because if not for David, then for the baby.

Suddenly, the front door busts open and Ella and Charlie are bustling into the kitchen, where you and Vicky were. Quickly wiping away the tears, you both noted that school had just let out.

They were ecstatic to see you, especially Charlie as he had currently been experiencing issues of his own adjusting to school. They lifted your spirits greatly; they were more fascinated by the baby growing in you and couldn’t wait to meet him or her. You absolutely adored them. They looked like David and the whole time they were talking your ear off; you wonder to yourself if your own kid will look more like you or David.

David’s thrusts were deep and good; you made no attempt to hold it in, letting him know exactly how he was making you feel. Nails digging into his firm buttocks, pulling him closer to you, wanting him to just keep going and going; the chase proving to be almost just as good as the climax. You feel one of his hands run up your side and his large hand starts groping your breast, adding onto the pleasure he was plaguing your body with, while the other held onto the small of you back, bringing your hips up to his.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his hot breath fanning against your skin and hear his murmured swears and praises. The air in the room was thick, and for the majority of the intimate activity, the only sounds that travelled around the apartment consisted of heavy breathing, moans, gasps, whines and skin slapping, until the annoying distinct ringtone started screeching from a few feet away.

You’d learned to distinguish his work alarm since the supposed mix-up, and it pinged constantly, agitating you. David’s pace notably falters, and the rhythm you’d both built started dwindling, the needy side of you started to panic because he was going to stop and you desperately wanted to come, even more so come with him, but it looked like neither of you would be as you feel one of David’s hands leave your body and make an attempt to reach out to the device.

You grab a hold of his wandering hand and lace your fingers together, hoping to keep him close and forget about the alert. You buck your hips forward, urging him to continue. His grip tightens and cock twitches inside of you in response. Your strategy almost deems successful when he picks up momentum, each swivel of his cock gradually bringing out the starved woman in you. Not to mention, your sex drive had heightened too, you’d longed and craved any affection he could give you.

“David, baby…” you whine, holding a hand to his face, forcing him to keep his gaze on you and only you, the ringtone almost drowning out, “...don’t. Don’t. Fucking. Stop...please,” you resort to begging and hook a leg over his body, the new angle allowing him to thrust deeper.

And just when you’re about to tip over the edge, the incessant ringing persists, and David’s halt unintentionally pulls you back down. He unwinds your sweaty clasped hands, no doubt in search of the phone once more, however, you had more leverage than he did, and your hand beats his hand to it. He wasn’t that far behind as his hand covers yours, and he tries to grab the phone to answer the call, but instead you swat it off the nightstand.

“What the fuck?” David says aggravatedly, while attempting to reach his phone on the ground, all while he’s still inside of you, pressing your body deeper into the mattress, but careful to not crush you.

“No, fuck you, David,” you spit back, and shove his body off of yours. You scoot over to one side of the bed and try to level your breathing. You were both so close!

“What is wrong with you?” He asks, forgetting the phone on the ground.

“Do you really have to answer that?” You ask, attitude on full display.

“It could be an emergency at work,” he tries reasoning.

“You’re not on the clock, David!” You dispute, sitting up, clutching the sheets to your body to conceal yourself.

“That’s not the point! It could’ve been serious. Julia could be hurt,” he says, the words just coming out of his mouth, giving each excuse little thought. His mind was in a frenzy and you didn’t miss a single syllable.

“You called her Julia,” you say just above a whisper, and suddenly you have an urge to vomit, but you do your best to control it.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what that meant at all to you.

It hurt more that he didn’t realize there was anything wrong and if he did, he was doing a good job at hiding something and making you look like the bad guy. You lightly shake your head, feeling defeated, and lie back down, settling on your side facing the opposite direction of him.

What was going on in David’s head? You tried so hard to understand him. It was like walking on eggshells, and even you had a breaking point. It was just sometimes too much because it felt like you were the only one putting in the effort to keep this relationship afloat.

The bed shifts significantly, letting you know that he’s gotten out of it. What felt like an hour, but were only a few seconds, the room was silent, tension still heavy in the room, and neither of you were willing to be the first to crack. You lie still, unmoving and making no attempt to stop him. It’s only when you hear the swing of the bedroom door creak, you allow yourself to blink the tears in your eyes away.

He didn’t leave the apartment that much you could rest assured of. Rest? That was what you were having trouble with. Things weren’t getting any easier with David and you even though you vowed to yourself that you’d go through Hell for him, the pressure was getting too heavy on your heart and in return, you knew the distress wouldn’t be good for the baby.

Maybe it was all just paranoia, the stress of pregnancy, and you were taking things too personal. You could be understanding about a lot of things in David’s life, his terms and PTSD, his kids, and his job, but was it too much to ask of him to be understanding of you? You suppose you were being selfish, and you were really tired. The only way to help you sleep was to swallow your pride and admit you were wrong.

The rush of the cold air instantly surrounds your bare legs the second you throw the covers off your body to get out of the bed. You throw on the discarded oversized shirt to be decent. Your steps are light, and you’re kind of nervous and, dare you admit, ashamed of how you overreacted that it drove David to the point of sleeping on the couch. After all, you made him feel unwanted in his own bed, and he certainly had enough respect to not steal yours.

Just when you’re ready to apologize and ask him to go back to bed with you, he’s already sound asleep, his legs sticking out from the mere blanket covering his upper body. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up for that. Sleep didn’t find him easy and he seemed just as stressed as you were, so you don’t disturb him. It can wait, right? You turn around and head to your room, shut the door and pray sleep finds you soon.

It didn’t and neither did the conversation.

News of the blast at St. Matthews College, where Julia was presenting a speech, rocked not only the political world, but it was the forefront of every news channel and medium. Tons left injured or dead, and as if that wasn’t bad, David was being told Julia had not survived the bombing.

He’s clearly distraught, believing he’s failed her, and on top of that, the weight of his lies started to suffocate him. He was going to have to come clean to you about everything he’s done behind closed doors with Julia. You wouldn’t forgive him, he was sure of that, and if by some chance you did, it would take a hell of a long time for him to regain your trust.

How many more lives does he have to ruin or lose under his watch? It was becoming too much, and it was sad, as he stared at the gun in his hands, that he’d contemplated his next actions more than once, but he really didn’t know what he had left to do anymore. There was a lot actually, he had his kids, a baby on the way, and a new life to build with you, but he was far too gone at that moment.

It’s Vicky that finds him back at the apartment, cleaning the brass fragments from the wound on the side of his head. She quickly puts the pieces together, the notes on the table addressed separately to her, the children and you, and the admission from David that these were brass fragments of a bullet casing.

“Dave, what the fuck? What about Ella and Charlie? What about-” she starts going on but stops when he visibly cracks because he knows your name is next to come out of her mouth, “I’m taking you to the hospital,” she decides and is quick to put away her tools.

“No. No one can know about this,” David says adamantly. They start to argue about his injuries and how David hadn’t been aware that he fired a blank round before he asks her to go back home to the kids.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” she says grabbing a jacket and tries to reason that he shouldn’t be alone right now and maybe being around the kids and seeing you will open his eyes and realize what he was leaving behind had he successfully ended his life.

He couldn’t pretend living like he was okay. What had happened to Julia was not his fault. All David ever did was do his best to protect, protect his country, his family and her.

“You need to tell her,” Vicky says while she hands David a cap for him to cover the wound on his head.

“I don’t even know where she’s been the last few days,” he admits pathetically. His own girlfriend, the mother of his unborn child, he can’t even keep tabs on where she’s been this whole time. It made him feel even terrible that he’d neglected you.

“She’s been staying with the kids and I,” she reveals.

“What? Why is she there?” He asks, and quickly puts the cap on and gets up from his seat.

She didn’t tell David of your whereabouts earlier because you’d asked her not to and she politely respected that, but she knew now was not the time to take sides anymore. You two had to deal with your issues now.

“She shouldn’t be alone, Dave. She’s pregnant with your child and yet she’s going through it all by herself,” Vicky tells him.

“I never meant to bring her into any of this mess,” he says heavily, full of grief. He brought you into the madness that was his world and now you’re trapped in it, bringing a new life along for the ride.

“She loves you, David, don’t sell yourself short. She just feels like she’s been left in the dark. You need to talk to her,” Vicky advises him, “it may not be pretty, but you have to hear her out.”

She knew you couldn’t stand being alone in the apartment without being reminded of David constantly. You weren’t in a good place either and she wanted to help you both before it was too late.

You’d been left behind at the house with Ella and Charlie in the other room watching TV, while Vicky was out looking for David. He wasn’t answering any of the phone calls she’s made, even ones made on your cell phone, there was no form of contact or communication from him. You knew he was there at the college; he was Julia’s bodyguard after all.

When you heard more than two voices return, you knew she’d brought David back and had told him you’d be here. You weren’t mad at her for ratting you out, it was going to come out eventually. Nothing ever stays hidden.

“You don’t normally wear a hat indoors,” Ella points out the cap on David’s head that stuck out like a sore thumb.

“You said it’s silly,” Charlie reminds his father.

“Then I’m being silly,” David responds as he watches his children chomp away at the slices of pizza in their hands.

While Vicky was on the phone cancelling her date tonight, you faintly hear the end of the conversation he was having with Ella and Charlie over their dinner. He still hadn’t even seen you. Then you hear his quiet, controlled sobs, but he couldn’t detain them enough and be strong around his kids.

“I just did something silly today,” he tells them.

“Wearing a hat?” Charlie asks innocently.

“That, too,” he replies as he clings onto them both in a group hug.

Vicky had just revealed to you of David’s suicide attempt moments ago. You’re numb. Clearly, Julia’s death had affected him rather deeply, so much that he thought killing himself was a solution.

He didn’t care about you or the baby. You both weren’t enough to save him or have anything to look forward to. You can’t even cry anymore. You wanted to lash out and get mad. She advises you to keep calm and think rationally, but you’re tired of thinking about all of this.

Without warning, David enters the room you’d been staying in. You’re like stone on the couch, arms crossed and starting straight ahead of you, mindlessly at whatever TV program the kids left it on before retreating to the dining area. Your eyes cast themselves on David’s demure stance. He cautiously steps forward and hesitantly takes a seat next to you.

“Is it true?” You ask, breaking the silence and finally turn to look at him. He only nods in response, his head hangs low, ashamed. You felt like your heart didn’t have any parts to break anymore. The confirmation alone just felt like him stomping on it for added measure.

“Ok,” is all you say, biting down on your lip to prevent you from saying anything else. It was petty, but you’d refused to show him any remorse or sorrow of any kind.

“Is this where you’ve been the past few nights?” He questions, rather awkwardly too.

“Oh, so you’ve noticed I haven’t been home?” You ask bitterly.

He was really going to push your buttons. You’re not sure if Vicky was right about you and David having to talk. This wasn’t going to go well at all. You were not in an ideal mental and physical state to be talking about your problems with him, but if not now then when?

“Of course, I have. Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, almost appalled by the accusation, and watching as you get up from the couch to stand in front of him.

“I hardly see you and when I do I find out that you just tried to kill yourself, so forgive me for not assuming I even ran as a mere thought in your messed-up head,” it was harsh, poking at his mental state, but you were so fed up, your mind was just as clouded, “...you didn’t think about me when you held the gun to your head,” you said ripping off his hat.

Your heart tightens in your chest as you stare at the wound and tears threaten to fall, but you don’t let them, “...and you certainly didn’t think about our baby when you pulled the trigger,” then chuck the cap at him, he makes no attempt to catch it as it lightly bounces off his chest and fall onto his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he says sincerely and making no attempt to hide his tears as they raced down, “I’m so fucking stupid,” and he gets up on his feet, ”...I need help.”

He’s not even going to use the excuse of work and you’re not expecting him to rat himself out and come clean about Julia just yet. David didn’t work like that and you were absolutely done with it. No, everything had to come out now.

“I know,” is all you say at first. He thinks it’s some form of forgiveness, him acknowledging his problem, until you follow up, “just admit it,” your voice changes in tone from anger and hurt to an icy one, “who do you love now, David?”

All while asking him that question, you’re trying to get his eyes to focus on you, but you simply cannot. He’s looking everywhere but, and it hurts.

“It’s Julia, isn’t it? Tell me!” You shout at his face. When he doesn’t answer immediately, your lips press down together and you don’t hold back the tears any longer, “I can’t believe you,” you say in disbelief, almost struggle to breathe right, “this shit has been keeping me up at night!”

You back away from him and cover your mouth, just to conceal your sobs so the rest of the family doesn’t hear you cry. They most definitely heard you yell, but you didn’t want to further trouble them anymore or cause a big enough scene for them to burst right through.

There hadn’t been a doubt in your mind that David loved you before, but just seeing how he couldn’t open up enough to tell you there was someone else during, filled you with more heartache. Maybe it would hurt less, you wouldn’t know unless it came straight from his mouth.

David starts crying as well and you honestly want to slap him, but instead you start saying nasty things, cutting him way worse than anything you could ever do physically, and you certainly don’t hold back. Claiming you two were never meant to be together, and the baby doesn’t mean anything especially in uniting you both.

“I’ll be surprised if this baby even survives,” you scoff thinking about a past experience, and how cruel life was gifting you this baby.

“What are you talking about? You’re not thinking about-“ David starts getting all frantic suddenly, and not thinking, he grabs both your arms in his hands, holding you in place.

“God no! I would never!” You say in disgust and pull away from him, “I can’t believe you’d think I would…”

“Then what did you mean?” He asks curiously.

“I never told you why I broke up with him,” you don’t really mention your ex’s name these days. While you’d both moved on as civil as the both of you could, it still pangs you to reminisce about the relationship and how it ended.

“He couldn’t handle the long distance,” he said thinking he knew.

“He only couldn’t after...” you pause, trying to decide if now was the time to reveal this secret. David had the right to know, after all, an incident like such could happen again.

“After what? He was seeing someone else?” He grew increasingly anxious and almost ill towards the thought of another being unfaithful to you.

“No! It was my fault,” you don’t want to slander your ex at all. He couldn’t have prevented what happened to you across the other side of the world even if he tried. “I miscarried. I don’t know what I did wrong, but I woke up one day in my blood and the sharpest pain I’ve ever felt.”

You started reliving that day, how you were alone and the way your neighbors had to come to your aid. Your poor ex felt so helpless, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything for you, but the wave of depression afterwards had strained the relationship. It formally ended when you’d returned from studying abroad.

“I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” David says in shock. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, and if it was stupid to think all this time you could’ve easily had a life without him long before you two finally became a thing.

“It didn’t matter, David,” your voice finally regained strength, and wiped at the tears on your face of the memory, ”you and Vicky were so in love. There’s nothing you could’ve done for me.”

“That’s not true,” David persists.

“I would’ve turned you away, just like him,” you say so sure. David was your friend then, yes, but you didn’t need or owed him this before now.

“You’re not going to lose this baby,” he promises.

“You don’t know that,” and you’re not trying to be a pessimist about this, you wanted this baby, but you were more than aware of the possibility it could happen again. Bad things just always seemed to be happening lately anyways.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’d protect you both with my last breath,” he vows, grabbing your hands, desperate to feel any part of you.

“I don’t need your protection, David,” your words continue to crush him, that was your subtle way of leaving him and he knew it, “I love you, David. I love you so much!” you say with plenty of emotion, and lightly squeeze his hands in yours, “...but you can’t even tell me who you love right now,” you point out, reluctantly removing your hands from his.

“You need to get help, David. If not for your family, me or the baby, please do it for yourself,” you say last, before placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“I’m going to get help...for you,” you hear David say determinedly just before you walk out of the room. It wasn’t all you wanted to hear, you wanted him to tell you he loved you back, but you wanted him to live easy once again even if that meant him not loving you.

You could manage on your own, and work something out when the baby arrives, but for now it was time for you to go home.

A/N: Nope. Sorry! Whenever Season 2 decides to come out, maybe we’ll get a happier David, so for now I don’t think I can let these two ride off into the sunset…but I can if you send 2020 off with giving this a like, reblog, comment or all of the above!

#mrwinterr writes #david budd imagine #david budd x reader #david budd smut #david budd x y/n #david budd x female reader #richard madden imagine #richard madden smut #bodyguard imagine

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aotxfan · 3 years

Text

Stranger in Familiar Skin (Floch)

Summary: Female unnamed character realizes that the man she once loved, Floch, is gone to her forever.

Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood.

Her heart was stuttering in her chest as she stared down at the barrel of the gun. She could feel her pulse roaring in her ears as her hands shook in front of her. It seemed like time slowed down as the man before her pointed it directly at her head.

“Floch?”

His name left her lips in a quiet whisper. Desperately, she prayed that she was wrong. Surely this cold hearted man before her wasn’t the same boy she had grown up with.

She hoped he would react with confusion, hoped his name out of her mouth would snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into, but it didn’t work. At her voice, the finger on the side of the gun simply moved to the trigger. He didn’t press down yet, but the threat was there all the same.

“I told you not to resist,” the man, Floch, responded. He sounded bored as he said it, voice lacking any emotion, and he nodded at the empty cell behind her.

Her eyes were trained directly at the barrel pointing at her forehead. Never in a million years had she imagined they’d be in this situation. Nothing about any of this made sense.

The man before her was someone she knew yet didn’t recognize. A loved one and a stranger all at once.

She and Floch had grown up together as kids and enlisted at the same time in the military. He was her childhood friend and later lover. She had once thought he was her other half, a piece of her soul.

They had known each other since they could toddle and had trusted each other more than they trusted themselves. She had thought she knew him like the back of her hand. He had never given her any indication of being someone dangerous.

“Please,” she forced herself to speak out, “Put it down.”

Her hands were shaking like leafs and her eyes were burning with unshed tears. However, it wasn’t fear that made her freeze. It was heartbreak.

She could feel her heart shattering inside her chest. All around her, her world was spiraling. She felt light headed and sick. It was a miracle she hadn’t passed out yet.

He called her name in a monotone voice. It sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth. She had heard him say it hundreds of times. He had shrieked it in laughter as a child, whispered it reverently as an teen, and used it as a form of a prayer as an adult. Now, however, it sounded hollow and meaningless. There was no affection behind the enunciation of each syllable nor any indication that this encounter pained him as much as her.

“I won’t ask again. Get back in your cell,” he nudged his head towards the empty prison behind her.

She had managed to escape somehow, yet she couldn’t exactly remember how. Ever since he had arrived at the restaurant where the Marley POWs worked, her mind had blanked. After Floch and the other Yeagerists had entered pointing their weapons, she had stopped processing things. So startled by her former lover pointing a gun at her, she hadn’t realized that she been imprisoned nor could she remember how she had gotten out.

“Floch,” she tried again. Her voice sounded like a whimper, but it had no effect on him. Where once his name from her lips would have sent him running to her, he now seemed like an unmovable statue.

Hange had warned her, she recalled. They had told her that Floch had escaped from his cell and joined the Yeagerists. She hadn’t wanted to believe it then, her mind couldn’t have made sense of it, but it was evident now that they had been telling the truth.

The Floch before her was not the one she remembered. Gone was the man she loved. Left in his wake was a terrorist who had killed and would kill again. His hands were stained red, yet his sins seemed not to weigh heavy on his shoulders. His eyes were cold and dark like the bitter sea that churned past the walls, and his hand on the gun was steady despite the fact that he was pointing it at the girl he had once swore to love forever.

“What happened to you?” She exhaled the question out and her first tear rolled down her cheek.

“Happened to me?” He cocked his head to the side and his lips rose in a mocking sneer, “Have you forgotten everything already?”

He advanced on her, and she took a step back. Her heart was beating against her chest like a hummingbird stuck in a cage. Desperately, she wanted some sign that her Floch was still in there. He had to be, she refused to believe that the man she had once loved was gone forever.

“Did you forget how I almost died? How a demon led me to a suicide charge where I was the lone survivor? How the one person in this world that could save humanity was killed in favor of some nobody little boy just because he had friends that staged a mutiny? Did you forget about the way the military you served betrayed humanity’s hope of winning against the Titans? The one who could beat Marley and restore the Eldian Empire to glory? Have you forgotten how I was arrested for telling the public what they had a right to know? Treated as a criminal when all I have ever wanted was to protect my people and serve my nation?”

Another step forward from him. Two more steps back from her.

“I know that-”

She cut herself off knowing not how to continue. She knew everything that had happened. Of course she did.

She had wept at the Battle of Shinganshina when she had imagined him dead, had held him as he woke up from nightmares screaming and covering his head from imaginary rocks, had comforted him as he seethed about Marley, and had visited him every day after Hange had ordered his arrest. She had been there every step of the way, yet nothing had prepared her for this. Somewhere along the way, he had lost himself. Burning like the morning star, he had fallen from grace.

The demon before her now was not the same boy she had once loved.

“Don’t you recognize me? Don’t you know me?” His tone seemed mocking.

“No,” she breathed out.

She really didn’t. She knew Floch, but this wasn’t her Floch.

Her Floch was a little boy introduced to her by her parents as a toddler. He was a little boy who had loved to play with her as a child and would race her down the hills in summer.

Her Floch was a cocky little brat with a dumb haircut who had decided to join the military and enticed her to follow. He was a little brat who liked to tease her and gave her smirky smiles that made her want to hit him.

Her Floch was the teenager that had returned from Shinganshina with a haunted look in his eye. He was a teen that had wept as she held him and had been woken up by his own screams from nightmares that made his throat raw.

Her Floch was the man that had swore to love her and marry her once the war was over. The man that had pledged himself to her and kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in their cruel world.

This demon before her was not someone she recognized. He was a stranger in familiar skin, a traitor in her country’s uniform, and she could feel her heart crack painfully in her chest.

“I wanted you to join me, you know,” Floch broke the silence, “I told you to help me leak the information when the time came. Had you helped me then, you could have stood at my side rather than being locked up in a cell.”

She closed her eyes and more tears fell. He had asked her for help back when Eren had been arrested. She had refused because she felt it was the wrong thing to do. She had trusted Hange and the military and thought that their orders for secrecy were for a good reason.

Now she couldn’t help but wonder if she had been wrong. If she had gone with Floch, could she have stopped all of this from happening? Could she have led him back to the light and kept him from losing himself in the darkness?

She had a feeling the question would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“Please,” she tried again, “Please come back to me. It’s not too late-”

A cold laugh broke through his throat. He lowered the gun just slightly and pressed a hand to his forehead as if the very thought made him want to double over. His eyes made her shiver.

“But it is too late, doll. Pretty soon Eldia will be restored and all of you, the military that betrayed Eren, will be known as traitors. The people will want you hung. Anyone who stood in the way of the Eldian Empire from rising will water its prosperous fields with their blood.”

“Is that what you want? Do you want me dead-?”

Her breath hitched. She felt lightheaded and had to lean against the cell door in order to keep herself from falling.

What was happening? The room seemed to be spinning.

This wasn’t the man she loved. The man she loved was kind if cocky.

He had been her childhood friend and had seemed an extension of her own soul. She had known his name before she had even known her own, had spent hours at his home playing with him, and had embraced him with sticky fingers from the candy they would share as a symbol of their friendship. He had been the cocky little teen that had stars in his eyes when he told her he had enlisted, had spun her around in excitement when she had joined the military to follow him, and had kissed her when she had chosen the Scouts just like him. He had also been the man that had promised to love her forever, the one that had held her through all those years, and the one that had teased her about marrying her once the war was over.

This man before her was none of those things. He was a cold hearted terrorist that had killed and would gladly kill again. Nothing of the old Floch was left in this new stranger.

“I don’t want you to die. It’s actually a shame to let someone so valuable die. You were a great soldier, no one could beat you in training, you would have made a great fighter for Eren. It’s a tragedy to let someone’s potential die with them.”

She swallowed painfully. She could feel her pulse roaring in her ears, and her hands shook from keeping them up for so long.

“For Eren,” she whispered, “You only want me to live for Eren. Nothing else matters then?”

“Can anything ever matter when the Eldian Empire is facing a dangerous enemy?” He shrugged.

She shook her head and desperately wished she could get through to him. There had to be some part of him that had survived. He couldn’t have lost himself completely, surely?

“Floch,” his name tasted bitter on her tongue, “Please. You know me, you grew up with me-”

You loved me.

She couldn’t bring herself to say the last part, but the phrase could be read in her heart. She bared her soul to him and waited for his response. There had to be some part of him that still cared. He couldn’t have been completely lost.

“Once upon a time,” he finally answered, “Once upon a time I did. Now, all I see is a traitor. You sided with the losing side, doll. I told you Eren was our future, but you just stood there as Hange ordered my arrest. I really, really thought you would-”

His breath hitched and a part of his mask cracked. She felt a flicker of hope rise in her, but it faded as fast as it came. He gathered his composure again before she had even had time to blink.

Soon, the gun was pressed directly to her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat.

“But you’ll pay for it. All of you will pay. When Eldia rises, it’ll rise on the sacrifice of those who doubted it. Your mountain of corpses will serve as a throne for Eren and Zeke to sit on. They will lead this island to greatness, and you all will regret betraying your blood.”

He moved away and shoved her roughly inside the cell. She landed on her back and stared up at him stunned.

He was gone completely. The man before her was a stranger on the opposite end of a battlefield. Whatever he had been before, the man she had once loved, was lost. In his wake stood a demon who would love to see her dead.

Her hands shook as she pressed them to her face. She could feel the last of her strength seep out. Despair churned inside her.

“I love you, Floch,” she meant it as she said it and hated herself for it, “Even now. Even though I can’t recognize you, my heart is still yours. Is it not the same for you? Were all those promises of marriage a lie?”

“Shut up.”

He hissed the words out as he slammed the cell door shut. Locking it, he leaned forward until his face was pressed between the bars. His eyes were cold like a tundra.

“You know what’s really funny? I didn’t do this for Eren, not at first. I did this all for you.”

At that, she froze. Staring aghast, she could only blink up at him. “What?”

He continued and leaned forward further until their faces were only inches away. The bars dug into his skin, but he seemed not to notice. His eyes were trained on hers.

“I did this for you. All I’ve ever done has been for you. I joined the military to fight the Titans so that you could live in a world without them. I joined the suicide charge so that you could escape once the battle was over. I even joined the Yeagerists so that Eldia could rise to power and take its place as a powerful empire. I wanted you to live in a country where you didn’t have to worry about foreign enemies across the sea. I wanted our kids to live in a world where their blood wouldn’t be a death sentence across the world-“

“Our kids?” She repeated it numbly and felt her eyes burn, “I never asked for any of this! All I ever wanted was you!”

He slammed his hands against the bar startling her. She jerked back in shock and hit her head against the cot. Stars burst across her vision and a piercing pain reverberated against her skull. When her hand went to the back of her head, she felt blood.

“Shut up! You were the one who betrayed me! Don’t you remember?!” He was all but frothing as he clenched his fingers against the bars. His knuckles were bleeding from where he had punched the metal, but he seemed not to care. “You just watched as Eren was taken in chains. You just watched as Hange ordered me arrested. I wanted you at my side! I wanted you to join me and fight for our home! In my head, you were always at my side! You stood next to me and we watched our Empire proudly flourish with our family! Yet you chose the wrong side! You sided with the military. You chose them over Eldia! You chose them over me-”

He let go of the bars and moved away. His rage boiled under his skin and simmered in his eyes, yet he shoved it aside. Returning to his mask of neutrality, he pressed a hand to his nose and pinched the bridge.

“You chose this,” he repeated to himself almost as if he wanted to believe it. Needed to believe it. “You chose the wrong side, doll. Now you pay the price. Eldia will rise and all of you traitors will regret ever standing in the way of your motherland.”

She scrambled to her feet as he turned around. Her head was bleeding and she pressed one of her palms against where it throbbed. Her other hand reached for him through the bars, but he was out of reach.

“Floch, please!” Her tears were running down her face now and her vision was doubled. The blow to her head made her feel dizzy and nauseous. “Please! Come back to me! Please! I love you!”

Numbly she repeated it. Her vision was growing dark, and she wondered if she had a concussion. She swayed in place but kept reaching for him.

If only he would turn around. Then he would see that she meant it. Then he would see the love that blazed in her eyes despite the hatred that burned in his heart-

But he didn’t. Instead, he gave her his back and swung the weapon over his shoulder. Snapping into the facade of a terrorists, he banged on the door to signal the Yeagerists outside to let him out.

Ignoring her pleas, he nudged his rifle as he walked away.

“Don’t escape again, doll. Next time, I will put a bullet in your brain.”

With that, the door clanged shut behind him.

Left alone, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision, she sank to the floor. Her eyes struggled to remain open and her head felt like it was splitting into halves.

She called his name softly and was met with silence. Heart obliterated in her chest, she sank to the ground and let darkness take over. The fight had left her just like him.

He was gone, she realized, the man she had once loved had been replaced with a stranger. The boy from all of those years together had been killed by the terrorist inhabiting his body. Whoever the demon in his skin was now, he was not someone she could ever hope to save.

The thought made her close her eyes and fall limply to the ground. She curled up into a ball and let the concussion win out. Her will to fight had been broken just like the remnants of her heart.

And, as her consciousness faded into the darkness, so did all her hope of ever bringing him back into the light.

#floch x reader #aot x reader #floch forster

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paunchsalazar · 3 years

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hey!! i loved your hoo playlist! can you explain more or less where which book begins and ends? or just your thought process behind picking the songs?

omg hi!! this is going to be really long I’m so sorry... I vaguely broke them up by book and sorta character/event/theme, it’s not super strict or anything but that was the logic!

I kinda imagine it playing out like a movie or tv series.. and so some of these kinda play over a scene or transition to the credits in my head? some more than others! otherwise it’s like punny titles or just songs that remind of plot points!

Lost Hero

- Goodbye Stranger - for Jason, since he has no idea what’s going on lol

- Teenage Dream - for the three of them, but mostly Piper!

You think I'm pretty without any makeup on You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

- Parachute - kinda Jason and Piper, I think as she realizes their relationship isn’t quite what it seems? (and just playing with his flying lol!)

- Metal Guru - Leo!

- Pretty Girl - Piper, I was imagining this when she clashes with Drew/learns about the Aphrodite cabin

And I could be a pretty girl Shut up when you want me to And I could be a pretty girl Won't ever make you blue And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you

- The Sky’s The Limit - when the three of them take off on Festus

- Snowqueen Of Texas - this was for Khione lol

I'm on my knees, your majesty; Snowqueen, save a cold kiss for me I'm on my knees your majesty

- Sweet Talkin’ Woman - this is book-wide but it’s for Piper’s charmspeak!

- Are You Gonna Be My Girl - is sorta general but I was imagining it when Jason and Piper kinda decide to be together/give it another go

- It’s Not Unusual - I think this was sorta the entire book/wider series but I just think it’s cute and fun and a Guardians of the Galaxy type end credits song? And just them accepting their very bizarre situation

Son of Neptune + Mark of Athena

I put these together because there wasn’t really a set bookend in my head!

- Hello Stranger - finally reuniting with Percy! (and I wanted the Percy and Jason songs to mirror each other)

Hello stranger (Ooh) It seems so good to see you back again How long has it been? (Ooh it seems like a mighty long time)

- Diamonds - Hazel

- Don’t Go Breaking My Heart - Frank trusting Hazel with the wood, also Percy + Annabeth, everyone really

Don't go breaking my heart You take the weight off of me Oh, honey when you knock on my door Ooh, I gave you my key

- Beautiful Soul - I literally don’t know why I added this I just wanted an excuse to add a Jesse McCartney song (which feels so tonally correct to me?) but also I think it’s Frank liking Hazel in spite of her big secret and Percy loving Annabeth

- Pocketful of Rainbows - encountering Iris!

I don't worry Whenever skies are gray above Got a pocketful of rainbows Got a heart full of love

- Am I The Same Girl - Annabeth’s POV upon reunion!

Why don´t you stop And look me over Am I the same girl you used to know?

Why don´t you stop And think it over Am I the same girl who knew your soul?

- Bizarre Love Triangle - Frank, Hazel, and Leo

- Treasure - Hazel again + the literal treasure?

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl you should be smiling (you should be smiling) A girl like you should never look so blue (blue) You're everything I see in my dreams I wouldn't say that to you if it wasn't true

- The Sweet Escape - off on the Argo II

- Okay Okay - to Italy! and I just think Italian disco is so fun

- On An Evening in Roma - walking around Rome, seeing all its history

Though there's grinning and mandolining in sunny Italy The beginning has just begun when the sun goes down So please meet me in the plaza near your casa I am only one and that is one too few On an evening in Roma Don't know what the country's coming to But in Rome do as the Romans do Will you on an evening in Roma

- Stuck on the puzzle - Annabeth + the Mark of Athena

- Coca Cola - I was imagining the pirates+sacrifice to Dionysus/ his appearance

- Edge of Seventeen - I think Annabeth remarks to herself something like am I really going to die at 17? so this is for her and all the kids just on the cusp of being 17

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind In the web that is my own, I begin again Said to my friend, baby (everything stopped) Nothin' else mattered

- Landslide - when everything goes wrong and they start falling to Tartarus

Oh, mirror in the sky What is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin' 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older And I'm getting older too

House of Hades + Blood of Olympus

these are more thematic I think? but a few moments in particular

- Head Over Heels - falling down...

I made a fire, and watching it burn Thought of your future With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away

- You and Me - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus

If the stars don't shine If the moon won't rise If I never see the setting sun again You won't hear me cry as I testify Please believe me boy you know I would I lie As long as there is you and me

- Don’t Worry Baby - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, on the shore of the river

Well it's been building up inside of me For oh I don't know how long I don't know why But I keep thinking Something's bound to go wrong

But she looks in my eyes And makes me realize And she says "don't worry, baby"

- It’s Only A Paper Moon - the mist and Hazel starting to understand it

You smile, the bubble has a rainbow in it Say, it's only a paper moon Sailing over a cardboard sea But it wouldn't be make-believe If you believed in me

- Money, Money, Money - Hazel + Pluto

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world

- Magic - the whole story, but particularly with the presence of Hecate

- Summer Wind - Jason harnessing the winds!

The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me All summer long we sang a song and then we strolled that golden sand Two sweethearts and the summer wind

- Mala Femmina - the return of Khione

- Would You? - Leo and Calypso

Well, you know she took my hand And we walked away And I can't understand why she would stay Would you like to fall in love with me?

- Love is Like a Fire - Leo and also Frank

- Don’t Wanna Fight - Percy and Annabeth

Take from my hand Put in your hands The fruit of all my grief Lying down ain't easy When everyone is pleasing I can't get no relief Living ain't no fun The constant dedication Keeping the water and power on There ain't nobody left Why can't I catch my breath? I'm gonna work myself to death

- Love Really Hurts With You - Leo after leaving Calypso’s island

- What Makes the Sunset - Percy and Annabeth (and by extension Bob and Damasen)

What makes the sunset? What makes the moonrise? What makes the tide remember to hide and why does it soon rise? What makes a star fall? Where does it fall to? Why does its flight make us stop in the night and wish as we all do?

- Dedicated to the One I Love - everybody, but an ode to Bob and Damasen (their goodbye made me cry!)

While I'm far away from you my baby I know it's hard for you my baby Because it's hard for me my baby And the darkest hour is just before dawn

Each night before you go to bed my baby Whisper a little prayer for me my baby And tell all the stars above This is dedicated to the one I love

- Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, I was thinking about this post-curses and them being so done with everything

Good times for a change See, the luck I've had Can make a good man Turn bad

So please, please, please Let me, let me, let me Let me get what I want This time

- Lonely Boy - Nico

- Fantasy - indulging all their visions... the mist, etc.

- Stupid Cupid - Nico and Cupid (of course)

Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy (stupid Cupid) I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly (stupid Cupid) I'm in love and it's a crying shame (stupid Cupid) And I know that you're the one to blame (stupid Cupid)

Hey hey, set me free Stupid Cupid stop picking on me

- Suzanne - still Nico, looking over at the couple (sorry... all the mopey songs)

- Dream A Little Dream of Me - dreams... also Percy’s wishes of the future

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

- Our Day Will Come - I think Annabeth says a line almost like this? somewhere at the end of HOH, I think when they’ve just gotten out of Tartarus and are all sitting together, like haven’t they had enough? won’t their day finally come?

Our day will come If we just wait a while No tears for us Think love and wear a smile Our dreams have magic because We'll always stay In love this way

- Call Me - all of them! also Nico and Reyna, just being there for each other

Tell me and I'll be around Now don't forget me 'cause if you let me I will always stay by you You've got to trust me, that's how it must be

- Nobody - Nico... oh buddy

Venus, planet of love Was destroyed by global warming Did its people want too much too? Did its people want too much?

And I don't want your pity I just want somebody near me Guess I'm a coward I just want to feel alright

- I’m a Believer - Jason and Piper

I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all my dreams Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer Not a trace of doubt in my mind

- Summertime - Piper singing and it being the end of summer

- Happy Trails - more singing ( I want to include the songs actually mentioned!)

- The End of the World - the big battle!!

Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don't they know it's the end of the world? 'Cause you don't love me any more

- Too Late To Turn Back Now - departing with Festus (I think Leo almost says this too!)

- Here Comes The Sun - day comes, the Athena Parthenos is back

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here

- Walking On Sunshine - Will Solace

- Evil Woman - Gaea fight

Evil woman, how you done me wrong But now you're tryin' to wail a different song Ha, ha, funny, how you broke me up You made the wine, now you drink a cup I came runnin' every time you cried Thought I saw love smilin' in your eyes Ha, ha, very nice to know That you ain't got no place left to go

- Seven Wonders - the seven! also traveling the world... making it this far

If I live to see the seven wonders I'll make a path to the rainbow's end I'll never live to match the beauty again The rainbow's edge

- This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) - to me this is just after Annabeth and Percy’s kiss, shots of everyone back to camp, wides of people running around, new cabins under construction, the sun is shining, the camera pulls out

Loving you is some kind of wonderful Because you showed me just how much you care You've given me the thrill of a lifetime And made me believe you've got more thrills to spare, oh!

- Love Makes the World Go Round - like the end credits! last pov with Piper, love makes it all happen

Without love flowers wouldn't grow in the spring And without spring, yeah the birdies just couldnt sing Everybody needs love to watch the twinkling stars above It makes a boy and girl, Say they feel so fine, now

#SORRY I REALLY WASTED A LOT OF TIME ON IT #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #piper mclean #annabeth chase #jason grace #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #Anonymous

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

The BAU expressing their love for you would include pt. 1

Members of the BAU expressing their love for you would include:

Emily Prentiss

Emily would show her love for you in the little everyday things she does, like making you coffee every morning or bringing you breakfast when she knows you had a long night the night before.

If you were just friends, she would check up on you all the time, sending you a text every now and then if she hasn’t heard from you in a while or stopping by your apartment on a Sunday night with popcorn and a bottle of wine.

Romantically, she’s quietly devoted to you, saving up all her love for the moment she can get you alone and then it all just pours out at once.

At the BAU she’s always looking out for you without making a big spectacle out of it, because you’re both professionals and she doesn’t want to be a distraction.

But she’d find little ways to touch you, holding your hand under the table, a hand on your knee in the jet, that kind of thing.

In the field, she physically puts herself in between you and any sort of danger without a second thought.

She doesn’t even really realise that she’s doing it, it’s instinctual.

In private, she neeeeeeeeds to be near you all the time.

Physical contact! All day! Every day!

Lots and lots and lots of cuddles. She’ll fall asleep on top of you on the couch at least three times a week, squishing you like a weighted blanket.

In bed, she’d be like an octopus, arms and legs wrapped around you allllllll night long, which is lovely in winter but absolute hell in summer.

Side of the bed? What’s that? Emily’s side of the bed is whichever side you’re currently on.

She would also be the type of girlfriend who says “I love you” really early, and then really often.

Like I’m talking a month and a half into your relationship she accidentally says it at dinner, and after that she figures, “eh, what the hell.”

Whereas the rest of your relationship she’s keep pretty private, the “I love you”s would carry through to work, especially if you have to split up for a case.

She never really let herself believe that she’d ever have someone like you in her life, so she truly does cherish every moment you have together, saving them all up in case something happens and you lose one another.

Derek Morgan

Derek would be far more blatant about his affection.

As a friend he would make it his daily challenge to get you to smile at least once, whether by flirting or doing something ridiculous like offering to carry you around until you’re laughing.

“Come on, Princess, gimme a smile. Just ooooooone little smile? There it is!”

Derek is big into acts of service, both with his friends and with his romantic partners.

He’ll come over and fix your leaky faucet, or oil the hinges on your front door, or fix your car in his free time, no matter how tired he is from work.

And you wouldn’t even have to ask, he’d just remember you mentioning it and offer to come over.

He’s painfully considerate, and he respects your boundaries but he just wants to help make things as perfect as he can for you.

At work, he’ll take on some of your paperwork if he knows you’re having a difficult time, or offer you a fresh set of eyes if you’ve been working a case.

Romantically, Derek would almost always have an arm around your waist or shoulders, and would constantly be keeping an eye out for things that might make you uncomfortable.

He’s big on PDA, for no other reason than he loves you, and he doesn’t care who knows about it.

Derek truly believes that love makes you stronger, not weaker, so he’d treat your relationship like it’s an asset to your work, not a distraction.

Instead of putting himself between you and danger, Derek would take extra time to help you train, perfecting your hand-to-hand combat and sharp shooting skills so that you would be in the best possible position should you ever need to defend yourself.

He’s protective, but he also believes in you more than anything else and, out of all the BAU members, I think he’d be the least protective in the field.

Which doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it when you’re protective of him

Because he Eats. It. Up.

He’s used to being reckless and doing whatever it takes to get the job done, no matter what the personal risk to him but, with you, he’s suddenly got someone who needs him to come home safe.

He’s never had someone who really cared about him that much, or at least not someone who he believed cared that much.

It’s a process, and he still does dumb things, but he tries really hard not to, for you.

He would also be a BIG “I love you” man.

It would take him longer to admit but, once he does, he tells you all the damn time. Every time he thinks it, he tells you because, if his life has taught him anything, it’s that you never really know how long you have with a person, so you’ve got to treat each moment like it’s the last.

Spencer Reid

Spencer wouldn’t exactly know how to express the way he feels about you at first.

He’d probably be the first one to do proper research into love languages, figuring out his and then watching the way you interact with everyone else to try and figure out yours.

Spencer really values spending time together, it doesn’t have to be doing anything in particular but he’d love just sitting together in your apartment while you both read.

He’s also incredibly perceptive so he would always be on the lookout for little ways to make your life easier.

He would remember the types of food you like, or the name of your favorite author, or that perfume you’d been eyeing for months.

Which means that he would always have the perfect gift ready and waiting.

As a romantic partner, Spencer would put a lot of stock in physical touch.

He doesn’t touch a lot of people, but with you things would be different.

The fact that he doesn’t touch a lot of people would be exactly why it would be so significant with you.

Because he’s not like Derek, he doesn’t just string his arm around his friends and pull them into massive bear hugs for no reason. Partly because he’s just never been like that, and partly because his worst fear is pushing a boundary and making you feel uncomfortable around him.

So when he does touch you, it’s private and meaningful, and it feels like an anchor to your life when you’re drowning.

It wouldn’t be crazy stuff necessarily, and he wouldn’t be into massive displays of public affection, but nothing makes him feel better after a case than wrapping you in his arms and holding you tight, or burying his face in your neck while you nap on the jet.

And if you were ever in danger, or had gotten hurt on a case, then the no PDA thing would go right out of the window.

From the second he knows you’re alive to the second he gets you home, Spencer would be right beside you, holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, helping you up the stairs, all of it.

He’s determined to never let you out of his sight again, because he can’t stand the idea of seeing you hurt.

Spencer has probably lost more people than anyone else you know, and he can’t bear the thought of losing you.

Unlike Derek and Emily, Spencer would wait a long time to tell you he loves you.

Not because he doesn’t feel it, he definitely does, and he realises it fairly early on, but because he wants it to be perfect, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t scare you off.

Spencer remembers everything you’ve ever said to him but, when you do tell him you love him, it takes him by surprise makes him feel all light and floaty inside and he gets so lost in it for a second that he nearly forgets to say it back.

Again, unlike the others, Spencer would be selective about when he says that he loves you because you show one another how you feel in other ways, and those words hold so much weight with him that he doesn’t want to ruin them.

As far as Spencer is concerned, he’s found his forever person when he finds you, so there’s no rush. You have all the time in the world to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that every second you have together is as special as it can be.

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naiatabris · 3 years

Text

ZevWarden Week Day 2's theme is "Gifts." We all know the Warden is an expert gift-giver (an idea I'm playing with here)--so what happens when it's Zev's turn? This is set in the modern AU of my "Charity Case" fic, shortly after the events of the story.

______________

“Hey, are you doing anything Friday after work?”

Zevran glanced over from the pan of eggs he was frying. Naia was making coffee at his side, carefully pushing the top of the press into the vessel to sweep the grounds to the bottom. Naia herself was not picky about her coffee, since she took it with a great deal of sugar and milk; she’d learned this more elaborate method for him, a fact he still did not quite know how to process.

“No firm plans, no. Do you have suggestions?” He winked at her. “Are they naughty ones?”

She laughed as she began to pour the coffee into mugs. “Not exactly. It’s my birthday. I always invite some people for dinner at that diner near the DFRC to celebrate. It’s very casual, but I’d love for you to come.”

“Then I will be there.” He slid the eggs from the pan with practiced ease before pulling out his phone to mark the appointment in his calendar.

*********

Later that day, as Zevran was headed out of Cousland Enterprises to find lunch, a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. “Hi, Zev!”

Zevran turned to see Beth Cousland walking through the CE door, a bright smile on her face. “Beth! A pleasant surprise. Lunch with a family member?”

She nodded. “I haven’t seen Fergus in ages, and I need ideas for Oren’s birthday. Hey, speaking of birthdays, what are you getting Naia for Friday?”

The question caught Zevran utterly off-guard. He immediately felt foolish. Presents. Of course. As customary in Ferelden as they are in Antiva.

“I … am still struggling with an idea,” he said, not quite lying. “And you?”

“Same here.” Beth’s face lit up. “Here, I’ve got a few minutes before Fergus and I are supposed to leave. Let’s call the expert.”

Barely a minute later, Beth had Alistair Griffin on speakerphone.

“Oooooh. I should have warned you.” Zevran heard Alistair take a deep breath. “Here’s the thing about Naia. She is absurdly, impossibly good at gift-giving. Those action figures on my bookshelf? They were my favorites when I was a kid. I lost them in a move after college but Naia somehow found me new ones. Another year, she sewed me my own Denerim Crashers jersey--that’s the old minor league baseball team that I used to follow before they moved to Highever. She put my name on it and everything.”

Zevran felt a nervous sensation beginning to spread through his stomach.

“So what are you getting her?” Beth asked, a little worried wrinkle between her brows.

“Soccer ball autographed by her favorite Denerim Lightning players,” Alistair said promptly. “Took me a while to find one with the goalie’s signature on it, but I finally had a good idea and I wasn’t going to screw it up.” He cleared his throat. “It was also more than I probably should have spent. Want to split the cost and put your name on the card?”

“Deal,” Beth said immediately. “Any other ideas Zev could use?”

“Unfortunately I spent months coming up with just that one idea,” Alistair said dryly. “Sorry, Zevran. But I wouldn’t worry about it. Gifts are her thing, I think she kind of likes that she’s so much better at it than we are. And most people at the party don’t bring a present. You’ve only been dating a month. She probably doesn’t expect you to get her anything.”

Zevran frowned. “I appreciate the insight,” he told Alistair sincerely. “But I would not wish to arrive empty-handed. I will think of something.”

After exchanging goodbyes with her boyfriend, Beth hung up the phone and gave Zevran a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s right, you know. Whatever you get her, she’ll appreciate the thought.”

Zevran was sure Beth had the right of it. But the knowledge that Naia valued gifts, that she spent so much time and effort on presents for those she cared about, felt like a challenge he wanted to meet. ‘Appreciate the thought’ would not do.

He wanted to find something she would love.

*********

Over the next few days, Zevran began jotting down a list of things he knew Naia liked, trying to come up with a potential gift. He listened to her remarks, paid attention to what she watched on TV, looked at her wall of family photos depicting graduations and cookouts and summer days swimming at a beach on the Amaranthine Ocean.

Coming up with a present was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Since Alistair had already secured the soccer ball, anything related to Naia’s favorite sport or team was out. She’d just bought new running shoes a few weeks ago. He considered something more intimate, but between them they had an impressive collection of toys, and lingerie felt like a gift for him as much as for her.

Perhaps a physical present was the wrong direction. He thought back to the birthdays he’d planned for Taliesin and Rinna. During their first year as Crows he’d taken Taliesin club-hopping, laying out his credit card for some absurdly expensive table service before the two of them headed back to Taliesin’s apartment with an enthusiastic third party. For the last birthday he’d celebrated with Rinna, he’d booked a table at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, followed by a night in a penthouse hotel suite with a spectacular view.

Neither of those ideas were right for Naia, though. He’d learned that she was instinctively frugal, that the prospect of a twenty-dollar cocktail made her wrinkle her forehead and order soda instead. A high-end Denerim restaurant or hotel with mostly shemlen patrons would feel like an ordeal rather than a celebration.

He wanted something special yet comfortable, nice enough to be a treat and yet not so expensive it made her uneasy. A difficult balance to strike, especially since he was still getting to know his new city.

But finally, on Thursday morning, it came to him.

*********

Naia had somewhat undersold her birthday celebration. When Zevran arrived at the diner, it was filled with balloons and packed with her friends--old high school and college classmates, teachers from Vanedrin High, and other rec center employees. He was trying to figure out how to insert himself into this clearly tight-knit and friendly group--but before he could puzzle over it too much, Naia seized him by the sleeve and began to introduce him around.

More than once, Zevran touched the pocket of his jacket to make sure the envelope he’d brought was tucked safely inside.

Alistair began handing her presents as the diner’s wait staff brought out buckets of fries and pitchers of beer. She squealed in glee over the soccer ball, turning it around and around until she’d examined every signature; a new backpack, a gift card to a movie theater, and a Denerim Lightning ball cap were all greeted with hugs and enthusiastic thanks.

And finally, as the wrapping paper was cleared away and the guests resumed their party, Zevran slid an envelope in front of Naia. “Happy birthday.”

“Zev! I should have told you, presents are always optional. But thank you.” She grinned at him and opened it.

Her eyebrows rose as she pulled out the photograph inside. “It’s--a little house? Next to the ocean.” Then her eyes widened in recognition. “Zev. This isn’t …?”

He nodded. “The beach where your family used to go in the summer. Places near the water do book up early, but I was fortunate--there was a cancellation next month. It is just a weekend, but …”

Naia leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his almost-apology. When she pulled back, her eyes were sparkling. “I can’t believe this! It’s amazing! My parents had to cut back on the trips when we started saving for college …” she trailed off wistfully, then looked down at the picture and beamed. “I don’t think I’ve been to the beach in years. I can’t wait.”

“I fear there is a small addendum,” he admitted. “I had to call your parents to learn more about your favorite spots. We will be attending the Tabris family cookout next weekend. Adaia and Cyrion were quite clear that ‘no’ is not an option.”

Naia leaned her head back and groaned. “Oh, Maker. I’m sorry in advance, Zev.”

Oddly enough, Zevran was not. He had never met the parents of anyone he slept with, and he could not deny that the idea was strange. But there had been something very pleasant about hearing the elder Tabrises insist on meeting Naia’s boyfriend.

He raised his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “A cookout is an acceptable price for the chance to see you in a bikini,” he murmured, too low for the rest of the party to hear.

“This place looks pretty private, Zev,” Naia murmured back. “If we’re lucky, we can skip the bathing suits.”

#zevwarden week 2021 #zevran x tabris #my writing #charity case #modern au #dragon age modern au

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