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scoonsalicious · 2 days

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Here we are ladies, gents, and the non-binaries. The long-awaited Chapter 27 which you've blessed us in FULL today. 8 parts??? what have I done to deserve this? And I've got so many thoughts I Literally had to stare at my screen to collect myself because where do I even start????? Well, first off, I can start with the fact that that was amazing and you're incredible, and thank you for this. I've got so many things to say but I'm literally short-circuiting so AAAH. okay. I'm doing it by roughly by parts so I don't miss a thing. And since you've given us 8 parts, expect this to be the longest essay yet (I'm not even kidding please I apologize this got away from me)

First off, the slow build-up was killing meeee. But then again, I do love seeing them having normal conversations (I mean, a dick in the garbage disposal isn't exactly normal but I digress because that part made me laugh) and seeing Bucky be so protective of her because he has a point. Jesse is out for blood and leaving Pocket alone would be a terrible idea (I mean, well, we obviously see this later). I love their banter too! The teasing and the joking and Bucky's smug lil "nothing I haven't seen before" like okay, pipe down. I love Pocket's stubbornness, arguing with Bucky that she can handle herself (which she can obvs) but I couldn't help but giggle when she *pouts* "I have a gun" *pouts* when Bucky told her that even Nat couldn't handle Jane in hand to hand ESPECIALLY when the unhinged snake is set out for the kill and a super soldier at that.

Now, the footage of Jacky in the Hydra base. That was….a lot. It honestly was so disturbing and scary. It's absolutely insane the way Hydra manufactured her obsession with Bucky. But it's also genius in the sickest way. Because THAT is how you make sure you get a mission done. A teenage crush turned obsession? I mean, have you seen one direction fans back in the day? They were unhinged and could hack anything and that's without training (I was a fan too and I saw it all happen online LMAO). Now we have someone who is a teenage girl with an obsession, who's fucked in the head with all that Hydra manipulation, has super soldier powers, a highly trained assassin and has been made to believe that she can get everything she wants? Who’s stopping that? She makes serial killers look sane. She's been set out to him before anyone even knew she existed. Honestly, that whole thing just had me sitting staring at the wall for a few seconds before I could continue because it's insaneeee. It's so scary, just thinking about someone like her existing in the real world. But that part where she was about to jerk off to Bucky's picture has me laughing and feeling distraught at the same time. But that hint of Bucky being uncomfortable about it followed by Pocket's comment about already sleeping with her, at first I thought he just felt guilty about it but after reading all the parts? A foreshadowing that he's never been comfortable in the first place? I see what you're doing. But god, massacring a whole Hydra base and just the image of her Carrie-style but with a proud grin. Chills. Get her away from me please I'm scared.

(on a side note, Pocket thirsting over Jesus Barnes in Wakanda please BIG MOOD. That really reallyyyyy short clip of him in Infinity War throwing that sack with one hand has me falling in line like, yes sarge, me next please. ANYWAY back to the story)

I'm glad they cleared up that whispering in the conference room when the whole below the paygrade comment. Because people keeping forgetting that were just in Pocket's POV and with that comes some unreliable narrating sometimes because we obviously won't get the full scope of what happened because we're only seeing her thoughts and her perception on the situation. Which is why I always think it's important to think on a broader scale outside what's shown on the text. But god, THAT much money? I'm still heartbroken for Chloe though because she didn't deserve that. But sigh, we just discussed not letting Pocket leave the safe house for her safety and then suddenly we're leaving her alone? Barnes? Really? Have you read any fanfics in your life? Anyway.

That whole commentary about the whole trafficking situation was so spot on. I have nothing else to add to that because you pretty much said it all. It's both sad and so enraging. BUT AH NO. YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO LEAVE POCKET SERIOUSLY. But she genuinely did think Dimitri was the least evil of them all so sigh. I already knew where this was going and I already had a hunch who this "Hydra" boss is waiting at the club. But lol the gasp I let out when I read her name. *insert that 'why am I gasping, I already knew that meme' here* Even just that hint of Jordan being so quick and strong since she's a super soldier, it really sets the tone how Pocket really can't get out of this through physical strength. And now the face off begins.

But damn. I honestly didn't think she'd get even crazier yet here we are. I even felt my skin crawl just knowing the amount of time Jerms spied on Bucky, Pocket, and them both together. She's literally been watching their every move even in the confines of their bedroom. And that gives her so much upper hand because all the fights, insecurities, weaknesses, all their trauma and past, what makes them tick as a couple, what breaks them down, she knows it ALL and she's obviously going to use that to her advantage. Well, she did and she did it well. Imagine playing a cheese game with someone who already knows all your moves. How can you win against that? Every time she says she "loves" him I have the urge to throw up. Like girl you don't. You’re obsessed with him. There's a huge difference. And God that she show here obsession and delusion and that really is the best play Pocket could make. Shattering that deranged fairytale she has in her head of Bucky ever wanting her.

That part, where Juno admitting to feeding Bucky all the things she'd been feeding him, especially the degradation parts. When you're so desperate to try and save a relationship, you really do become willing to try anything and take any advice even if it's not the best ones. And like I said many parts ago, she's smart so the way she manipulated Bucky (who's already so insecure and broken and such an easy mind to manipulate) was so calculated that it was always going to be a success.

Which brings me to the infamous video which was without consent, might I add. The way Jayla made it seem in her text when she recounted it Bucky was so far from what actually happened. She really was selling it as if they'd fuck like no tomorrow and Bucky turned into this feral sex god or something. But that's her delusions playing it up, making it seem like it was the best sex ever when in reality, that couldn't have been farther from the truth. That wasn't fucking, hell I don't even know what you call that. I mean, I could be pushing it here so please do correct me if I'm wrong, but that was SA in a way. An unenthusiastic yes is still a no and you could clearly see that Bucky wasn't into it, tried to stop it even. And with men, there's a different dynamic when it comes to SA because of patriarchal standards and toxic masculinity and this misconception that they always want sex etc. And it truly was pathetic on Josef's part claiming that they fucked because, dude, what was that? But it also left a bad taste in my mouth for Bucky. Because what I saw in my head was just him laying there while she took what she wanted, I guess. And yeah, he didn't push her off and there was a part of him that was so hurt and angry thinking that Pocket betrayed him that he wanted to get revenge but even then, he didn't seem that excited on the fact. I mean, the snake had to bring up the articles and Steve over and over and over again because that's the only way she could keep Bucky angry and hurt enough to not protest and just, let things happen. And she was feeding him lies and hitting exactly where it would sting with that purple push up bra because how could she have known that right? In Bucky's head, that was confirmation that she was telling the truth because he didn't know that Jenny had access to footages. She played her game well and she stabbed him exactly on where the stitches are so that was a lost cause on Bucky's part.

And God, I have all my reports saved in one doc and I really did hit it already did I. About me saying how Bucky probably let Russia happen as a way to punish himself too. And that Jayla truly did play into Bucky's insecurities with those articles because what fight does he have against America's Golden Boy? When he already believes Pocket deserves someone better and that someone took form into the person he's insecure about the most? How can you not spiral? I know I'm repeating myself but we truly can't just ignore what Bucky went through with Hydra in all of this. He's got such a fragile mind and self esteem that it's already easy to break him down if you truly think about it. Now, imagine having someone who knows EVERYTHING that made you crumble and has all the ammo and information to be able to say just the right words for you to trust them? And, well, speaking from experience, you really can't know you're being manipulated until you're out of it. I didn't realize how bad my experience was until I retold it to a friend. So I don't Bucky had an ounce of awareness as to what Joanna was doing to his mental state. It was the sickest most calculated thing what she did that I think even the most secure person could feel that security crumble even for a little. Now you have someone who's already fragile and insecure in the first place? He honestly stood no chance.

Obviously, it doesn't take away the fact that Pocket was still hurt and she has every single right to be. But I think she was more hurt that Bucky wasn't secure in their relationship and her love for him rather than the act itself. Because the way it happened really was kind funny and God I cringed at the way Jocelyn took so so long to even get him going and not even get him going at all because Bucky had to think of Pocket to get hard. And he truly only got himself going by imagining it was Pocket. I mean, he had his eyes closed!!! Beyond me how Juan was able to keep going since Bucky was practically screaming someone else's name so fucking obvious and loud and I have no doubt she heard it since she's a super soldier but she's a different level of delusional so I'm not even surprised. Taking what she could get probably.

I can't WAIT to see feral protective Bucky on the next part. And as much as I want to see all the action, I kinda want him to see him be so calm with his confrontation with Jude. Because you know what would truly break that snake? Bucky telling her over and over and over how he could never love someone like her in all the languages and all the phrases he could. Is it evil of me to want him to break her down on a mental level rather than physical? Because to me, that would be a much more worth it revenge with all the emotional and mental abuse she's done on Pocket and Bucky. Because yeah, Pocket saying those things already hit a nerve. Now imagine it coming from Bucky's mouth? The man she claims she "loves"? Either way, I have no doubt you're going to feed us well so I'm going to be happy not matter what happens. I CAN'T WAIT.

— Jnon 🤍

\y Beautiful Jnon,he 'dick-in-the-garbage disposal' line will live rent-free in Bucky's head for the rest of his life, lol. I like to imagine that it's a visual that got Pocket through a lot of tough times. I loved writing their banter (tbh, I love writing banter in general, lol). I just adore seeing them in a little bit of domestic fluff. And .Bucky has definitely seen it all before, lol. Literally nothing Pocket's got going on hasn't been exposed to his... intense scrutiny, lol. When it came to leaving Pocket alone, the safehouse was probably the safest place for Bucky to do it. I mean, Carthage knew about the Wiggle Room, but she didn't know where the safehouse was.

I'm pleased (which is weird to say) that the Hydra footage was disturbing-- it was 100% meant to be. Like, back in the '90s (the glorious '90s, which I miss with every fiber of my being), I was a HUGE Hanson fan. Like, so rabid I look back on it with embarrassment, lol. And I was thinking-- there's no one with greater obsessive focus than a teenage girl with a celebrity crush, you know? And it just kind of made sense to me that Hydra would harness that to ensure the greatest success to assure they get their asset back. And Jade's not a teenager, but she grew up in isolation, without peers her own age, so I see her as emotionally stunted. In a weird way, she has that in common with Pocket. They were both prevented from growing up in the natural order of things so they could serve the agenda of men. They're like two different sides of the same coin. And Bucky was so uncomfortable at the idea of seeing Jade get off to photos of him, because she did, essentially sexually assault him-- he was never comfortable having sex with her, and the idea that she was using his photo for sexual gratification long before he ever knew she existed makes him feel even more violated.

Let us discus Jesus Barnes. Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have had impure thoughts of a man, repeatedly, lol. But for real, if you're not familiar, please check out Rock Me, Sexy Jesus from Hamlet 2, which is literally THE ONLY thing I can think about when I see this:

Like, turn my water in whine, please. (I'm not even sure how that works as some kind of filthy entendre, but I'mma leave it 'cause I like how it sounds, lol)

I almost didn't include the bit about Bucky telling Pocket what he actually said to Jade during the mission briefing, but I realized I didn't want her thinking he divulged her secrets. He did some shit, but he didn't do that.

Bucky has not read any fanfics in his life, unfortunately, but this just gave me a hilarious idea for a oneshot where Pocket tries to get him riled up by reading a smutty Bucky Barnes fanfic to him, so thank you for that, lol.

Sad part is, Pocket trusted Dimitri. And I think he trusted her, too, which was why he was so betrayed when he found out she wasn't who she said she was. I did need Bucky to leave Pocket alone, but in his defense, the safehouse was the safest place he could have left her. I mean, Jade knew about the Wiggle Room, knew that she would be working there, but she didn't know where the safehouse location was. So, it seemed liked the safest place at the time, and it would have been if Dimitri hadn't shown up for her. Everyone wanted Pocket to kick Jade's ass, and I wanted it, too, but Jade's always been too strong and fast. All Pocket could use to beat her is her wits.

Having her spy on Bucky and Pocket was actually a late addition to the narrative, and I'm so glad I included it, because it really cements how messed up she is. And it gave her so much ammo to use against them. They really did not stand a chance with her having all that access. (Also, I know you meant "chess game," but you wrote "cheese game" and I am in so in love with that, I'm going to pretend you did it on purpose, lol). I also wanted to show that Jade wasn't just crazy, but she was smart, too, and resourceful, which is what makes her so much more dangerous.

And you're not wrong-- the Russia incident bordered on sexual assault. I don't think he would ever see it like that, being a man from the '40s, but it was. An unenthusiastic yes is just as bad as a no. She pushed and manipulated him so badly, he really had no chance. And once she brought up that purple push up bra? It was over. Without knowing she'd been spying, how could he not believe her?

I'm dying to hear your thoughts about Chapter 28! I can't wait! Love you!

#unwanted #jnon report

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writinglittlemagics · 3 months

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Check my pinned post for a general account update, but here is a little creative writing piece! This was published as a part of the Canon Future Authors program in 2022, and I haven’t done anything with it since. It’s just a fun time with two kiddos making mischief :]

The Covert Cookie Caper

“Valerie, what are you doing?” Finley, my best friend, looks over to where I’m sitting on the floor, twisting a wire hanger into a hook.

“Nothing,” I mutter, tongue peeking out from the gap where my front tooth used to be.

“Val, that looks like a weapon. Why are you messing with a hanger? Can’t we just go get cereal or something?” Finley rolls from where she's lying on the air mattress to join me on the carpet, letting out a soft ‘eep’ when she lands. She casts a suspicious look, one that is unwarranted. Playing with a hanger is totally a normal activity for 9:00 in the morning.

“Do you smell that?”

“What, the juice you spilled last night? No.”

“No dummy, forget the juice. Zio Matteo just started the first batch of brownies. That means marzipan cookies will be done soon.” The aroma of chocolate has been faintly drifting in for about twenty minutes, but now the brownies are almost done. The smell is irresistible. My room is directly above the bakery, and my uncles are down there now, preparing for the day. Every sniff is like heaven.

“So what Valerie? Did you forget that we’re banned from the bakery? Your uncle was very clear that we are not to even go near the kitchen because of your last idea.” She should know by now that a stupid ban isn't going to stop me. I’m a master of stealth; a champion of trickery! Zio Benicio knows that; he’s just trying to cut me off. And he knows Zio Matteo will feed me anyways.

“So we can’t walk downstairs. Big deal! We can crawl down instead! The vents are connected all the way down, and the covers are just on magnets. I hide stuff in there all the time.” I lift up my wire hook thingy. “I just need to pull the cover off in the hallway and then push it off in the kitchen, easy as cake.” I think this is one of my best plans yet.

“Are you insane? That’s a terrible idea!! The vents are all dusty and gross, there are probably rats! And all that dust will make me wheezy, you know that.” Finley immediately enters panic mode. This is just part of the routine: I come up with a great idea, Fin freaks out, I convince her, we do it, everything works! Sometimes.

“It’ll be fine! There aren’t any rats, it’s not that dusty, and you have your inhaler in your bag. It’s just a short crawl and we’ll get all the bakery rejects! Come on. Don’t you want a cookie?”

“Not if it means I have to go through a creepy tunnel!”

“Please Fin?” I grab her hands and shake her arms for a second before she concedes. “Fine. But you go first.”

“Yes! This will be great.” Once I get the cover off, I turn to Finley, who’s making a face like that one time I dared her to try a lemon warhead. “Off we go! It’ll be fine. Finley, trust me!”

“Why do I even listen to you? This is creepy! I swear, if I see a single rat or spider, you're dead to me. Instant friendship K.O.”

“Oh get over it, Fin! Besides, if you keep yelling at me, you won't notice the spiders crawling in your ears and laying eggs.” The darkness of the tunnel masks the grin spreading across my face, not that Fin, who is straggling behind me could see it. Then, I hear a shriek, a bang, and an “oww.” In that order.

“Valerie, you are the worst. Can we just get out of this stupid vent already? I told you this was dumb! Your uncles are going to kill us. I swear, I’m never listening to you ever again.” Finley moans.

Just so we’re clear, it’s definitely going to happen again. She says this at least twice a week, basically anytime I rope her into one of my ideas. She likes to pretend she hates them, but I know she’s having fun. Besides, I have great ideas. Incredible ideas, even. Things just happen to get in the way.

“I told you. This is the easiest way to get down to the bakery without Uncle Benny noticing. I know for a fact that you want a fresh pastry just as bad as I do. Even if it is one of your gross ‘allergen-free’ ones. Also, if I don't stuff my face with chocolate within the next hour, I might punch someone.” A beat. “And it’ll probably be you so we should hurry.” I snicker while Finley groans.

“Why couldn’t I have a normal friend? Why did I get stuck with the one who would rather crawl in dark tunnels than sleep in?”

I just roll my eyes.

“What did I do to deserve this silver death trap?!” All of a sudden, Finley stops behind me. I swivel my head, searching for the problem, but the space doesn’t allow it. Then I hear it.

“Valerie, what was that noise? Val... Val...Val! What is that?” Finley’s breathing stutters behind me. I have no clue what it is. It doesn’t sound like any rodent. It’s more like a dull thumping on the metal beneath my knees. The pounding on the tunnel increases in time with my heart rate.

“I have no idea! Just... just crawl forward!” I start to quicken my pace as I follow the shaft forward.

“Forward?? Why would we go forward? We should go back!” Finley stays stuck to the spot, shallow breaths echoing through the tunnel.

“That’ll take forever, just crawl faster!!” I try to hide my panic, but my voice jumps an octave. We start crawling as fast as we can and all of a sudden, light fills the dark tunnel. The front of the vent pops off from the outside. We both freeze as Uncle Benicio peers in at us disapprovingly, tapping his broomstick lightly against the shaft. I give him a guilty grin and attempt to shrug my shoulders in the tight space.

“Your cookies smell great, Zio Benny.” Finley groans behind me before it tapers into a wheeze. She always refuses to show how much my plans amuse her. I suppose it makes sense, someone has to at least pretend to be a good influence in this friendship.

“Nipotes that scare away my customers with their escapades get no cookies,” Uncle Benicio huffs. “And neither do best friends who should have stopped them.”

I wince at that. I hate when Finley gets blamed for my plans. Plus, she’s always been sensitive. While I spend most of my school days laughing at my own jokes in the ‘naughty corner’, Finley is always the first to apologize to the teacher with her big watery eyes downcast. I almost wish she wasn’t so quick to go along with me, but it wouldn’t be fun without her.

“Zio Benny, super sorry, hate to ask really, but can you let us out? Fin might need her inhaler pretty soon.”

“Oh yes, yes come on girls,” Zio Benicio says while he hurries to help us out. “Honestly Valerie, you are nearly eleven, you should know better. What was this, a bank heist?”

I scamper out of the tunnel and rush to help Finley down the ladder. Once she is out of the musty vent shaft, she seems much more comfortable. I give her a look, trying to see if she’s going to collapse or something, but she won’t meet my eye, choosing to instead stare at the ground and shuffle her feet.

“Oh, come on, Zio, at least give Finley one. She tried to stop me, but you know how much of a mulo I am.” I know that whining isn’t the best approach, but I really do feel bad. “I’m sorry I scared away your customers.” I probably should have started with that. Finley sneezes, a stuffy, squeaky kind of noise, and I’m struck again by my guilt.

“You should’ve known better, Piccola. Not only was that stupid, but it was dangerous.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do? You cut us off! A girl has to get her sugar fix somehow,” I retort while giving Finley a once over. “You wouldn’t even let us help in the kitchen with Zio Matteo, even though he said we were great helpers-”

“I scraped bombolone off of the ceiling.” Zio Benicio deadpans. Finley does a kind of half-snort half-wheeze noise behind me.

He stares down disapprovingly and I tip my head up to meet his eyes. He raises a thick eyebrow and I cross my arms. I have to stand my ground if I want a cookie. I got this. I can out stare him anyday. I can do this.

I can’t do it.

“So does this mean we can go get the reject cookies? We’re starving, Zio,” I plead with whimpering eyes, finally giving up my glare.

“Only after you sweep the store.” Zio Benicio thrusts the broom towards me. I throw my head back and groan, taking the broom and trudging away to deal with my chore. Finley turns to the supply closet to grab the dustpan.

“Fin, you don’t have to-” I start but she waves off my attempt with a hand before pointing me towards the tables.

I hate sweeping, and Finley’s still a little sniffly, but with cookies on the line? Totally worth it.

#creative writing #drabble #kid fic #original work #original character #original content #oc #writing #writeblr

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Spencer and fem!reader have been together for a decade, married for five. They got married right after the Justin Mills episode, she proposed cause she almost lost him. He proposed to her once he got out and she had no idea he was going to. Anyway I got off on a tangent sorry I have ADHD. But anyway so part of Spencer was scared she’d leave him while he was in prison, which of course she never would. Not only because they have a three year old daughter. She of course doesn’t, and they’re both there to greet him when he’s released eighty-four days later. She’d been using porn to pleasure herself while he was gone, but it wasn’t nearly the same. He’s been so pent up that he jumps her the second they get back to his apartment. Needless to say, she wasn’t expecting him to be even more dominant when he got out of prison than he had started to be when he went in.

so i changed it up a bit, she hasn't had an orgasm since he left. she's so touch starved becasue she cant even hold his hand at visiting hours and they both can't help but fuck the second she tell's him they're bringing him home.

word count: 1.4K

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, dom!spencer, wall fucking, public sex, creampies, talk of pregnancy, touch starved reader and spencer, canon typical violence, references to PTSD, (I hope I got it all)

She’s anxiously tapping her foot, she’s been awake for 48 hours now, she hasn’t seen her daughter in just as long, and her husband even longer.

84 days to be exact.

She feels like she’s going to explode, she misses him so intensely and if he doesn’t come home now, she might never see him again. His mother is missing, he stabbed himself to stay safe in prison, he might not come home. again.

In the 10 years that she’s been with Spencer, he’s almost died 3 times. she thought that was the extent of her worry for her husband's safety... then he went missing, then he was arrested in Mexico and now he’s in prison fighting for his life.

She has her head in her hands, curled into a ball on the briefing room sofa, trying desperately to get her mind to stop saying he’s dead, they’re going to kill him, you’re too late. Over and over and over, the thoughts are so intense she almost doesn’t hear Emily call in and tell them to go get him.

It’s time to bring him home.

She stands faster than before. Faster than when they found the cemetery. Faster than when he almost coded in the ambulance from the anthrax he was exposed to. The only time it rivals is when the doctors came out and said they stopped the bleeding, 2 weeks before they eloped, 9 weeks into a pregnancy they were trying to hide from the team.

She always finds herself rushing to his side, fearing the worst but never has she been this close to the edge. She’s on the plane with JJ, Luke and Penelope faster than she’s ever moved before. Leg still bouncing as she sits, trying her best to stay awake, but her adrenaline is making her dizzy.

“Y/N,” JJ whispers from across the table, “he’s okay.”

“I know,” she whispers back. “That’s not why I’m nervous.”

“Why are you?”

She turns and sees Penelope and Luke arguing in the back, flirting way too much to eavesdrop, she takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t touched him in 3 months,” she whispers. “You guys may not think he’s a touchy person, but I haven’t slept. I don’t know how to sleep without him beside me. I haven’t had a real hug in forever…” a tear falls down her cheek.

She shakes her head, it’s been so unbelievably hard to be separated from him and she’s kept her composure this long. “I haven’t even been able to touch myself.”

She’s ashamed but JJ doesn’t budge, she simply tilts her head to the side in sympathy, “oh honey, he might be really distant, you have to prepare for him to continue to not touch you, or he might not leave your side and drive your crazy. I’m not sure how he’ll react but I know it’s not going to be easy.”

She nods, releasing a shaky breath and pretending that it’s not making her more anxious, “I know.” She finally breaks, sobbing and hiding her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry.”

JJ gets up and moves around the table, rubbing her hand over her back and shushing her, “you can tell him. You can go in and have a few minutes alone with him, Penelope and I will wait in the hallway.”

“I just want a hug,” she whispers, “I’m not going to fuck my husband in a prison.”

“Bundy did it,” Luke replies from the back of the plane because of course, they were listening in. “Plus, I don’t think he’s going to be comfortable enough to do that yet, I think his mind is on saving his mother.”

“Exactly,” Y/N rationalizes it, even if all she can picture is him bending her over that table that she wasn’t allowed to cross.

Sometimes the prison was so intimidating for her that she felt like she wasn’t even allowed to look at him. It was easier for her to send letters, they corresponded regularly. She knew everything, on a level the team didn’t, she knew just how hurt he was in there and she was already preparing for his recovery.

She has a binder in her purse, it has every resource he’ll ever need. Random information pamphlets for him to read on the way home and his sponsor's number. She got it from the VA, taking a special trip with Luke to ask the men there what they wish they had when they came home from Afghanistan, how they coped with PTSD and what they wish their partners knew beforehand. She’s as prepared as she could be.

But nothing prepares her for the look on his face when she opens the door. The guard steps aside and JJ closes the door as soon as Y/N is safely inside the room with him, she just cries.

“Is my mom okay?” He panic, “who’s watching Elly?”

“Spence,” she walks up to him, “we’re taking you home.”

“What?” His face drops, he turns as white as a ghost like he’s hallucinating and doesn’t believe what he hears.

She simply nods and throws her arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before, he holds her just as tight. She can’t breathe, he’s holding her too tight and then he’s picking her up and sitting her on the table, kissing her neck and down her shirt and she can’t help herself from leaning back and attempting to unbutton his jeans.

He pushes her skirt up and pulls her panties to the side, roughly kissing her as she stokes him a few times before wrapping her legs around him and bringing him inside. His beard is longer than it’s ever been, scratching at her skin as he explores her, she can’t believe they’re actually doing this but it feels too good for her to even say a single word.

“God, I’ve missed your sweet cunt,” he grunts in her ear, picking her up and turning them. He presses her against the brick wall, holding her with a strength he’s never had before, and fucking into her with intent.

“I haven’t cum in 90 days,” she says between pants, wanting him to praise her.

“So that’s why you’re such a desperate slut? I’ve made you into a whore over the last 10 years, haven’t I?”

“Yes sir,” she replies on instinct, they’ve tried having him be more dominating but it never really worked out in their favour… this however, this is more than that.

This is primal.

He bites her shoulder, over her shirt and making the fabric wet, grunting as he fucks her, he’s like an animal. It’s incredibly hot, she’s so deprived she almost cums but she holds off, “please?” She begs, wanting his permission for the first time in months.

“Please what?”

“Please can I cum?” she cries, actually tears fall down her cheeks from the frustration, months of anticipation bursting at the seams, “please, daddy?”

“Ugh,” he lays his forehead on her shoulder and fucks into her harder, rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Cum baby, come on daddy’s cock, you depraved little whore.”

She tosses her head back against the wall, it’s going to hurt later but her orgasm is so intense she barely even feels real. She’s floating there as she grips his shoulders and her legs hold him close to her. He stills as he cums, filling her up, they both sigh at the same time.

Sliding to the floor, she’s still wrapped around him, cock inside her as they hold each other. Faces buried in the other's neck, they try to come down but all they can do is run their hands over each other's bodies, appreciating the fact they’re allowed to hold one another in this stupid room again, no one is going to yell at her for holding his hand or passing him a bracelet from their kid.

They hear a knock on the window and that’s their queue to get presentable again. She feels a little gross, but this is the closest she’s felt to him in forever. Carrying a part of him inside of her was her favourite thing in the world, all she could hope for was another little one to be the glorious result of this terrible situation.

#spencer reid #spencer reid request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #blurb

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Note

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house.

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like.

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine.

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship.

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like.

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that.

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same.

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket.

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching.

#yoongi #yoongi hc #yoongi x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts hc #yoongi scenario

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 3 years

Text

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.)

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation).

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

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alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing.

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None!

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . . Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . . Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @s1utformgg @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @rotinireid

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :))

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gxldenflower · 3 years

Text

Nothing I’ve Ever Known (Zemo x Reader)

The biggest issue you’d come across was Sam and Bucky. They were the closest thing you had to family (besides Helmut) and they made it very clear that they still hated his guts.

You were incredibly conflicted. On one hand, it felt wrong to not share with them that you were dating Helmut. On the other, you knew that they would never see you in the same light again.

But, life went on. You met up and went on missions with Sam and Bucky, drank wine with Helmut late into the night, and did your best to keep the two worlds separate.

Warnings: Mild angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, swearing, alcohol, very very brief and minor allusions to sex, me throwing canon out the window Because Fanfiction

Word Count: 1,203

A/N: Based off of this request. I kinda took it in a different direction, but I hope you like it! But if I'm being totally honest, this oneshot is kind of a mess. There's a lot going on, but I like it (kinda). Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy the Zemo fluff!

Gender Neutral Reader

“You smile in your sleep sometimes.”

“Hm?” You turn from your back onto your side to face Helmut, whose eyes are still heavy from sleep.

“I’ve noticed that you smile while asleep,” he repeats quietly. You hum, lips turning upward.

“So you watch me sleep, then,” you ask Helmut playfully, rolling over so you lay on top of him, chest pressing against chest. His hand immediately comes to rest on the small of your back. He chuckles, and you can feel his chest vibrate.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “You’re a beauty that I doubt I’ll ever get used to.” Helmut’s compliment makes your face heat up, and you smile involuntarily.

“You’re just sweet-talking me to get me to stay in bed, aren’t you?” You ask him, still grinning.

“Possibly.”

***

You didn’t mean to fall for Helmut. Truly. It was supposed to be a one-and-done deal. As soon as you, Sam, and Bucky finished your mission, you’d part ways, never to see each other again. Until you started to bond with Helmut.

While Sam and Bucky left him to deal with other issues (they kept an eye on him, of course) you stayed in consistent contact with him. It was wrong, to casually get drinks with the man who broke up the Avengers, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Helmut became more than allies or friends. Sure, you had spent that night together, but you figured that it was just a one-time thing. Until it turned into multiple nights spent together in your tiny apartment that Helmut was always critiquing.

It was nice; what you had with Helmut. When you spent your days and nights with him, it felt like you were the only people on Earth. He treated you like royalty, offering lavish clothing, jewelry, and trips around the world to places you never even dreamed of visiting.

The biggest issue you’d come across was Sam and Bucky. They were the closest thing you had to family (besides Helmut) and they made it very clear that they still hated his guts.

You were incredibly conflicted. On one hand, it felt wrong to not share with them that you were dating Helmut. On the other, you knew that they would never see you in the same light again.

But, life went on. You met up and went on missions with Sam and Bucky, drank wine with Helmut late into the night, and did your best to keep the two worlds separate.

You were managing it well until Helmut made the mistake of leaving that damn coat behind after he’d left your apartment.

The coat was incredibly recognizable. When you first met Helmut you made a snide comment about how it made him look like a pimp. You still teased him about it once in a blue moon, just to rile him up.

Sam had come over one day to drop off some old SHIELD files that could possibly help you track down some ex-HYDRA agents. Everything had gone as it always had. You made small talk with him and talked about plans for the next mission. Until he looked behind you at your worn, leather couch, where Helmut’s coat lay.

Sam recognized it immediately. “You have Zemo over recently?” He asked you, voice low. You turned around to see what he was staring at. When you realized what it was, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

“Um.” You don’t know what to say. You’re a terrible liar, and Sam would see right through whatever thinly veiled lie you came up with.

“We were discussing a mission,” you say uncertainly, and you internally cringe at your half-assed lie.

“Right,” Sam replies, 100% unconvinced.

“Look, Sam. I know it looks b-” He cuts you off before you get the chance to try and explain.

“I don’t care who you’re sleeping with or seeing,” Sam tells you honestly. You refuse to look him in the eye. “It’s none of my business, so we’ll just leave it at that.” You hadn’t expected such a calm answer. You’d thought that he would storm off, calling you a traitor. Maybe that’s what he was currently thinking, but was just doing his best to hide his real thoughts.

You nod, finally looking up at him. “Yeah, I’ll see you and Buck next week,” you tell him slowly.

Sam nods back, squeezing your shoulder before heading out your apartment’s front door.

***

Helmut arrived at your home later that night, just as he’d planned. He didn’t need to knock; you’d given him a spare house key a while back. Helmut was the only person besides you to have a key. Sam and Bucky didn’t even have one.

“My love?” Helmut calls out to you. You hear his heavy footsteps as he makes his way through your living room.

“In the kitchen,” you reply. You’d taken a seat atop your counter as you waited for a pot of water to boil. You wanted to make chicken alfredo for you and Helmut. While it was nowhere near the kinds of food you ate when you went out on dates that Helmut always paid for, you figured it would be acceptable enough to eat.

You place your phone down next to you as Helmut walks into your kitchen. “I missed you,” he confesses as he goes to stand in front of where you sit. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, leaning down slightly so you can bury your face in the crook of his neck.

Helmut reciprocates the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly.

“Sam saw your coat you left here earlier today,” you mumble into his skin. Helmut hums in response.

“I’m assuming that means he knows we’re together?” He says softly.

“Yeah,” you whisper to him. Helmut pulls back so he can look at you properly. He gently cups your face with one hand.

“Are you alright?” Helmut asks you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s none of his business anyway,” you try and reassure him. Helmut hums in response, not quite believing you, but not wanting to push you to talk about it just yet.

You bury your face back into the crook of Helmut’s neck, breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne. “I love you,” you mumble to him.

“And I you,” Helmut responds. You could stay that way in Helmut’s arm forever, but you suddenly remember the pot of water that you had on the stove.

You glance over at it just as it starts to boil over.

“Shit!” You exclaim, quickly pulling yourself away from Helmut. You hop down from the counter and gently push him out of the way. You reach to turn off the stove carefully and move the pot onto a cool stovetop as Helmut watches, confused.

You turn to face him once the immediate crisis is resolved. “The water boiled over,” you say simply, pointing to the pot. Helmut nods, and the two of you stand in awkward silence for a moment.

“Do you wanna go out to eat?” You suggest, hoping he’d say yes because you no longer had it in you to cook something.

“That sounds lovely, darling.”

Zemo Taglist: @tkachuk-dubois

All of Marvel Taglist: @9zoria9 @kawaiiusagichansan @hawkmoony @romanoffbby @therookie @fl0ating (forgot that i had a marvel taglist lmao sorry y’all)

Add yourself to my taglist(s) here

#baron zemo #zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #marvel #tfatws x reader #tfatws imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #zemo imagine #it's 1 am i should be in bed. but no. i'm here posting a fic #anyway go listen to nothing i've ever known by bryan adams #it slaps

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

go big or go home

this was a request from @kk2016

Hi!! could you write about being pregnant with Harry but no one knew so you guys show up to the Grammys together and everyone can see your baby bump through your dress?

here is the link to the dress you’re wearing. I have no idea if this is a good option, I’m terrible with fashion :) but I thought it was cute! If you hate it, definitely just imagine something else :)

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2.8k

It wasn't exactly hard to hide a pregnancy during a pandemic. You barely left the house, and if you did, you weren't recognized. The one time you and Harry had been spotted, you had only been 4 months along and were wearing an oversized sweater. So it was safe to say this baby was your family's little secret.

Harry knew, of course. He had been the first person to know (after Anne and the doctor who confirmed the pregnancy). You had got around to telling the rest of your families after the first trimester was over. The "inner circle," as you liked to call it, were the few people who were aware. This consisted of your parents, Anne, Gemma, Harry's band, Jeff and Glenne. That was it. Neither of you were wild on the idea of Harry's entire fanbase knowing, so you kept it under wraps as best you could.

Which, once again, wasn't hard to do. You didn't even have to go out for groceries; they could be delivered. You could buy everything for the nursery online and have it sent directly to your front doorstep. You and Harry had stayed inside for the better part of the past seven months.

However, there was one event coming up that you absolutely refused miss out on. The Grammys. At first, Harry thought you should stay home. He was worried you would get sick, and how it might affect the baby. He was worried about his fans finding out. He was worried he wouldn't win and he would have to see your disappointed face right next to him.

Of course, you were not about to let this happen. You assured him you wouldn't get within six feet of anyone besides him. You wouldn't shake anyone's hand or hug anyone. You would wear two masks, if it would make him feel safer. You would shower in hand sanitizer. You really didn't care what you had to do; you were not going to miss this night.

"Harry, I swear to God, if you keep giving me that terrified look..."

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, dragging a hand over his face. "I'm allowed to be a little apprehensive. This really isn't a good idea, I think it might be best if you just stay home. I just-"

"Absolutely not," you spun around, placing your hands on your hips. "I'm going to be there, in person, so I can watch my husband become a Grammy winner."

"You can watch from here!" He argued. "Plus, that way, you don't have to walk around all night. I know your feet have been bugging you, and-"

"Don't use this pregnancy against me!" You threw your head back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm not," he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on your belly. "I just want you to be safe. You and our little girl."

"I know," you brought up your hand to brush along his cheekbone. "And we will be. I'm not going to get close to anyone. I'm not going to touch anything. I'm going to have two masks on the entire night. Harry, there won't be anyone safer than me this whole night. I promise."

"I just..."

When he didn't finish his sentence, you leaned in to meet his eyes. "What are you really worried about?"

"Lots of things," he murmured. "Besides the literal plague? I'm worried about people finding out and being cruel. I don't want to deal with that, and I don't ever want you to be exposed to it. I'm worried something bad will happen, and it'll be all my fault for letting you come along. And... I'm worried you'll be disappointed if I don't win." His last sentence was so quiet you barely heard it, but it still made your heart ache.

"Baby..." You said quietly, your voice sad. You ignored his other two worries for now, because this one was clearly the most important to deal with. “You think I'll be disappointed in you?"

He nodded, looking at his hands on you instead of meeting your eyes. "Everything I do, it's all for you. You and her. What if it's not enough? What if I fail?"

"Harry," you kept your hands on his face, directing him to look at you. "I will never, ever be disappointed in you. You are amazing, in everything you do. Understand? I personally think you will be a three time Grammy winner at the end of the night-" he grinned at this- "But even if you're not, I will still be so incredibly proud of you. I will always, always be proud of you, and I will always love you. Okay?"

He didn't move, but you used your grip on his face to nod his head up and down. His smile grew bigger, and he grabbed your wrist gently. He turned his head to kiss your palm, sighing softly before he pulled away.

"I love you so much," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better. You always know exactly what to say."

You shrugged with a small smile. "I'm just amazing, I think."

"I think so too."

-----

You were sitting on the couch, dressed in your normal quarantine clothing. Hoodies. Sweatpants for him, leggings for you. Why would you get dressed up for a virtual acceptance ceremony?

You bounced excitedly as they announced "Adore You" as one of the nominations for best music video. Harry smiled when you gripped his arm.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," he admitted.

"Well, you're just a ray of sunshine today," you huffed. "Here it comes!"

"And the Grammy goes to... Beyoncé, Blue Ivy, and WizKid."

You slumped back slightly, patting his arm.

He laughed lightly at your reaction. "She deserves it."

You nodded. "Not to be mean to you, but yeah, she definitely does."

-----

As the hours wore on, you could tell Harry was getting more nervous.

"It's just- it's my first performance in a while. What if it's not good?"

"Harry," you grabbed his face again. "It will be amazing. Yes?"

Again, he didn't respond. Again, you had to physically move his head up and down in a nod. Again, this made him laugh. It was a small gesture, but you could tell it helped calm him down at least a little bit.

"There's one thing we haven't talked about," he pulled away from you, going through his drawers to find his socks.

"What's that?"

"Your outfit."

You shook your head. "I already picked my dress." You pulled out the garment bag, unzipping it to show him. It was fairly simple; you didn't want to overshadow him on his big day.

He smiled. "It's beautiful."

You nodded. "We're going to look so hot together."

"Couple of the year, I think."

"We might break the internet. Seriously. You're wearing a leather jacket with no shirt and I'm pregnant. Twitter is going to explode."

He laughed again, pulling you into his arms. "Are you sure you're ok with everyone knowing? It might not be good, people's reactions can be really-"

"You do realize they will have to find out at some time, right? You can't exactly hide a child forever."

"I know," he sighed. "I just like living in our little bubble, where it's only me and you who know."

"And your mom. And Gemma. And my parents. And Sarah, and Mitch, and Adam, and Ny, and Charlotte, and Jeff and-"

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," he chuckled. "But you know what I mean."

"I do," you nodded. "And I'm ok with people knowing. Besides, it'll blow over soon. I can just stay off socials until it does."

Harry sighed again. "I wish you didn't have to. I wish people would just..."

"Treat people with kindness," you grinned. "Maybe they don't know. Maybe you should tell them to do that sometime."

He rolled his eyes playfully, pulling away from you. "You're funny."

"Hilarious, I know."

"I have to get ready," he sighed. "One last try- are you sure you don't want to stay home?"

"Not a chance," you smiled. "Now shoo so I can get dressed."

-----

His hands were shaking as he opened the door of his dressing room. You gripped his arm tighter, trying to remind him you were here for him.

"Everything's going to be ok," you said softly.

He nodded, but his hands still shook.

"I'll be right offstage, you can look at me if you get nervous," you reminded him. "This might not be the time, but I'm, like, really excited to see you perform."

"Yeah?" He gave a small smile.

You nodded. "It's been a while since I've been able to see that. And you look... very nice in this outfit."

"Very nice, huh?" He laughed. "What a compliment."

"I do have a way with words," you grinned.

"Always," he leaned his forehead against yours. "Now what was it you said earlier? Shoo, so I can get dressed."

"I'll be just offstage," you reminded him one last time, blowing him a kiss as you stepped out of the room.

-----

You couldn't take your eyes off him for the entire performance. He was worried for no reason, because he was incredible. He was born to do this, you could tell.

You cheered louder than anyone else when he finished, earning a cheeky smile from him. As soon as he could get away, he ran over to you and enveloped you in his arms.

"I told you you'd be amazing," you whispered.

He nodded, wearing the biggest smile you'd seen in days. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"I didn't do anything," you laughed.

"No, I couldn't have done it without your moral support," he clarified.

"Right, moral support," you nodded seriously before breaking into a smile again. "But really, that was amazing. You're perfect."

"That's all you, love," he returned the compliment, turning back around to watch Billie performing. He kept his arm around you, though. The camera panned to you a few times during the different performances, and you knew by this point the viewers at home had seen your bump. Your dress wasn't very tight fitting, but you were almost 8 months along. You were sure social media was exploding by now.

You didn't have to worry about that though, not yet at least. You had a few more hours of calm.

-----

Harry's nerves had apparently returned once you got to the table. His hand was gripping yours even tighter than before and his leg bounced constantly. You placed your hand on his thigh, trying to calm his frantic movements. His eyes went to yours, and you could tell he was smiling under his mask.

"It will be fine," you reminded him. "Everything will be ok. You already did the hard part, remember?"

He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Right. And soon, we can go home, and sit on the couch, and eat ice cream."

"Exactly," you smiled. "And I can get back in my leggings and not get dressed again for the next 6 months."

He laughed at this, and his grip on your hand loosened. He still kept hold of you, but you could tell he wasn't so nervous anymore.

"Ok, shh, they're announcing it now," you said excitedly.

Harry looked down, apparently seized with nerves again.

"And the Grammy goes to... Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles."

His eyes went wide, and your face split into a giant grin. He reached his arm out to grab yours, almost like he didn't believe what had just happened.

He pulled his mask off, standing up. He took your hand, gesturing for you to stand too, so of course you obliged. He pulled you against him, and you could feel how fast his heart was beating. When he pulled away, you smiled up at him.

"I knew you would win," you said softly, still beaming. "Now go!" You gave his shoulder a gentle push toward the stage.

"Wow, um..." He blew out a breath, looking at you before he spoke again. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my first album came out, during a day off in Nashville, and I just want to say thanks to Tom, Tyler, Mitch, and everyone... Rob Stringer, and everyone at Colombia, my manager Jeffery, who has always nudged me to be better and never pushed me, thank you so much. I feel very grateful to be here, thank you. All of these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much, I feel very honored to be here among all of you, so thank you so much. And I want to say-" he looked at you again, a smile of adoration crossing his face. "Most importantly, thank you to my wife. Y/N, I love you more than anything else on this planet, and I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make it all possible, so... thank you to the light of my life, and of course our daughter." His eyes went wide at the last sentence, like he hadn't planned to say that. He looked around nervously before he quickly made his way back to his seat.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that, it slipped out-"

You shook your head, taking his hand. "It's ok, don't worry about it," you smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

He put his mask back on, but it didn't hide the happiness on his face.

-----

Once everything was over and you had both climbed into the car to go home, it seemed to really hit him.

"I won a Grammy," he said in disbelief, looking down at the award in his hands.

"You won a Grammy," you repeated with a big smile on your face. "Grammy winner Harry Styles."

"Yeah," he looked back up at you, his eyes still wide. "That's... insane."

You nodded. "And very impressive. And I'm so proud of you."

He smiled, scooting closer so he could put his arm around you. "Grammy winner Harry Styles... and his amazing wife."

"And their amazing daughter," you added, placing his other hand over your stomach. "Feel that? She's been kicking all night. She's excited for you."

He grinned, before his face dropped back into one of concern. "Are you sure you're ok with what I said? I really didn't mean to, I just got caught up, it-"

"Baby," you stopped him. "I promise, it's ok. Besides, everyone knew the minute I walked in there."

"Right," he nodded. "Has your phone been blowing up?"

You shrugged. "I turned it off. Should we check?"

"I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

"I'm gonna do it." You fished your phone out of your purse, eyes widening when you saw how many notifications you had. From every possible app. Congratulations texts, excited DMs, missed calls, and then there were the mentions. There were well over a hundred on your lockscreen alone.

You cleared all of them, deciding to open Twitter and see how bad it was. You were very pleasantly surprised.

"harry's daughter" was #1 on the trending page, and "harry in leather" was right behind it. Clicking on the first one, you found several GIFs of the terrified look on Harry's face when he accidentally made the announcement. You smiled, but scrolled further. Hundreds of fans were typing in all caps, apparently very excited that Harry was going to be a father.

"You're right, we broke the internet," he grinned, looking through his own timeline. "I've seen my bare chest more in the last five minutes than my entire life before this."

"What a power couple we are," you laughed. "We got the top two trending spots."

"What an accomplishment," he joked.

You scrolled for a few more minutes, still yet to see a negative message. "You were worried for nothing, babe. They're all very excited for us."

"I see that," he grinned. "They've also named our baby for us, and somehow know her zodiac sign."

"Oh, wonderful," you laughed. "But really, it could have been worse."

"Definitely," he nodded. "Well, that's one way to announce a pregnancy. On live TV in front of the entire nation."

"Yeah, you know, go big or go home."

"Exactly."

Closing Twitter, you moved on to Instagram. You gasped when you saw the first picture on your feed. "Sarah posted her bump! Now we can be baby buddies in public, not just in secret."

Harry smiled, turning off his phone and pulling you closer to him.

"omg, baby buddies :)" you commented. Within seconds, Sarah had liked the comment and replied with "they will be best friends😊"

With that, you turned off your own device and leaned into his side. "What a good night. Aren't you glad I came with you?"

"I am," he admitted. "Very glad. Thanks for being stubborn."

"Always."

#harry styles #harry fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #dad!harry #one direction #one direction fanfiction #pregnancy

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

#my writing #moreid #derek #spencer #derek morgan #criminal minds #spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #userpenemily

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter introduces some new plots and conflicts, so it jumps around a little more than the previous ones.

I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter.

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two

Henry Curtis was one of the most infuriating people Lee had ever met. Curtis was a writer for the Columbus newspaper and constantly pestering the Sheriff. Curtis seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever the Sheriff did anything. He was desperately trying to catch the Sheriff doing anything but so far had remained unsuccessful. Curtis was the biggest obstacle Lee faced in winning re-election. The man would show up out of nowhere, pen and pad in hand ready to find anything that would be enough to keep the Sheriff out of office.

Maybe Curtis was just doing his job, but Lee always felt like it was much more personal. It was probably just his own resentment of the man who was just doing his job. But the man didn’t have to be so goddamn invasive. When the Sheriff had devised his plan on offering to rent a room from you, he was so tied up in his own mess of divorce and his somewhat confusing feelings towards you he had completely forgotten about the press. They would have a field day with the divorce alone, but now on top of everything else, Lee knew he should be more careful.

Lee always had to be careful, especially if he was meeting Leroy Brown. Lee would make sure he drove way out of town, and always insisted they met at a different location every time. This would infuriate Brown but Lee was the only lawman he had working for him. Sometimes Lee would drive several hours out of the way, always at some deserted ghost town or some sad excuse for a diner or a bar. Always somewhere no one would recognize him.

Lee lied to you and told you he and a few of the deputies would need to drive out of town for a stakeout when he needed to meet with Brown. It was one of those nights, sitting in the cruiser with the headlights off, as he parked in an abandoned parking lot almost two hours out of town.

He had been able to put this off for a couple weeks, lying about other legitimate jobs getting in the way. Honestly, it was because he wanted to one, avoid anything that would cause suspicion from Henry Curtis hearing he was back in town and two, he was selfishly allowing himself to just spend his nights at his new home, spending all the time he could manage with you. It was like being in that little white house was a place where he could let himself be delusional, and time spent with you was what his life actually was, not this mess he was currently dealing with. He wanted out.

Lee knew he wasn’t a good man. He knew that his laundry list of offenses had tarnished his badge a long time ago. He knew what he was doing, and before he never cared. Now, he’s thinking about how his actions could affect you. You were innocent, unaware of everything he was stuck in. He knew you weren’t stupid, and he was sure the town knows some about his corruption. But now, he couldn’t rationalize away his actions for any reason when it came to you. Janie? She didn’t care and would encourage it. She’d be in on it too. She’d have no problem lying to ladies at Church or starting other rumors to keep the town talking about anyone but Lee. She was as power hungry as he was sometimes, which could be a testament as to how their loveless marriage held together for so long.

***

“Hi, I’m looking for a Ms. (Y/L/N)?” the man asked when he approached you, talking a seat at one of the barstools.

“Who’s asking for her?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Henry Curtis, I work for the Columbus Dispatch.”

“The newspaper?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I’m doing a story on her mother’s marriage to Harvey Tucker.”

“She’s not here tonight. But I can let her know you were here. Do you got a card?”

The man pulled out a business card from his wallet and slide it across the bar. You picked it up and read all the information before putting it in the pocket of your apron.

“Seems weird for the Columbus paper to want to do a story on that a month and a half after it happened,” you said skeptically.

“We did cover the story when it happened,” Curtis informed you. “Doing a follow up since the story broke about his wife missing.”

“Missing?” you ask. “Do they know what happened?”

“Robbed the bastard blind and then ran apparently,” Curtis said casually looking past you at the chalkboard on the wall. “Scotch, neat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, grabbing the bottle from the shelf. “Has anything else been found out yet?”

“Not yet, that’s why I’m here. Checking in to see if she’d come back here because I heard Ms. (Y/L/N) still lives around these parts.” He then pulled a newspaper out of the inside pocket of his coat and started flipping through the pages.

“She has another kid too, right?” you asked, playing dumb. “A boy, I think. Do you know where he is?”

“Couldn’t say,” he sounded very indifferent, “Most likely went with her but who knows? I went to the Sheriff’s office to see if they knew anything but the Sheriff wasn’t there.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’m sure Sheriff Bodecker would help you help if he can.”

Your statement made Mr. Curtis chuckle, but you didn’t follow up on it. You were just focusing on getting as much information about your mother and brother as you could.

“Speaking of Mr. Bodecker,” he began, “I recently saw his wife is getting remarried. Saw the announcement of the engagement in the paper.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you respond, skeptically. You didn’t know why but you didn’t trust this man. It was something in the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just how he held himself. Very polished, a suit and a nice dress jacket. He looked very out of place in this town, and this little bar.

“You familiar with the Sheriff at all, miss?”

“Not too well,” you shrug, “Haven’t had any run-ins with the law myself.”

“Not even a speeding ticket?” He asks, only a little condescendingly.

“Can’t get a speeding ticket if you don’t have a car,” you point out.

“Touché,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t ask you anymore questions, and when he leaves, he gives you a five-dollar tip.

***

Lee receives his cut from Brown. There was nothing new to report on that front and his meeting went by smoothly. All Lee had to do was to turn a blind eye, and make sure the rest of the department stays unaware of the brothel’s existence. Brown always insisted on meeting with him, wanting to know what the Sheriff’s department was investigating and making sure his businesses stayed under the radar. He felt sick, and is preoccupied with the fact he has an envelope of dirty money in the cruiser’s glovebox.

It’s around midnight when he pulls up to the house. He expects that you’re already asleep, but he notices the lamp is on in the living room. He takes the money out of his glovebox and tucks it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. Coming inside, he finds you on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the business card Mr. Curtis had given you. You face is stained with dried up tears, and you still haven’t even changed out of your work clothes.

“What’s that?” he asks, the sight of you breaking his heart. He winces because he comes off a lot harsher than he meant.

“Some reporter came while I was at work wanting to talk to me,” you explain softly, you sound exhausted. “Wanted to talk to me cause he’s doing a story on my mother. Apparently, she’s on the run from the Columbus police.”

You extend your hand to give Lee the card. He feels his jaw clench when he reads the information. “What happened?” he asks, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to you.

“I pretended I wasn’t me,” you say, another tear rolling down your cheek. “He came in asking for me so I said I’d pass his card on. I didn’t want to tell him who I was because he didn’t explain why he was looking for me at first. I don’t know- just scared me. I’m more upset about the news itself than him.”

“You did the right thing,” Lee said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. He was angry, but he didn’t show it. It worried him, fucking Curtis snooping around this close to you. It made him feel protective, wanting to shield you from the whole ordeal. He had been on the receiving end of unsolicited attention from the press and he knew how ruthless they were. He knew this wouldn’t be the only time Curtis would try to get in touch with you. He’d find out where you lived, he’d continue to show up while you were working- the whole nine yards. He didn’t want you going through that.

Curtis talking to you also made him incredibly paranoid. It was his two worlds that he desperately wanted to keep apart were colliding. He knew it was impossible, but he so wanted to keep you separated from the other part of his life. It wasn’t who he wanted you to see. Hell, he hasn’t even been here for a month. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep you in the dark, at least that wasn’t entirely intentional. Actually, he wasn’t sure, maybe it was intentional. However, it wasn’t just you he wanted to hide aspects of his life from. He wanted his involvement with Brown and others hidden from every goddamn registered voter. You were no different, he tried to rationalize. But that wasn’t true. These feelings he harbored for you, were getting worse. He needed to unwrap himself from this situation, and for the sake of you finding out he was a shill, keep you away from that asshole. He didn’t want to let himself think about how the way you look at him would change.

And here he was, making the situation all about him. It was in his nature.

“He’s just going to show up again if I don’t call him,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should just call him in the morning. Just be honest and say I don’t know anything. He can keep coming around but nothing is going to change.”

“I can take care of it,” he says. He couldn’t risk you talking to Curtis again. For all he knows, Curtis would tell you all about the story on the Sheriff he’d been trying to confirm for years. Lee knew he couldn’t let that happen. He fully intends on telling you, but how the hell do you bring that up? ‘Hey doll, I’m also on the payroll of every pimp and bootlegger in a ten-mile radius, just letting you know.’ It wasn’t going to come up, unless Curtis tells you about it. He’d be hoping to pull himself out if it, show you how you made him want to be better.

For now, he settles for comforting you, and just being there to take care of you. Make you feel better. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets you cry into his chest. He sighs, kissing the top of your head in a friendly way and you curl up against him. Under different circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have let yourself do this- show your vulnerability or allow anyone to comfort you like this. But it was all the events of the past month, your mother leaving, everything, just all hitting you at once, and you were happy you weren’t alone.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch with a blanket over you. You see Lee asleep in the chair, and you realize he stayed with you all night. It makes your heart flutter. You pull the blanket up over your chin and close your eyes again. You felt surprisingly well rested. The stress and worry were pushed to the back of your mind long enough to let you get some sleep. It still lingered in the back of your mind, but you reminded yourself that for now, there was nothing you could do. You had the day off, and you let yourself have a little longer time to sleep in.

You woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling on the stove. When you opened your eyes, Lee was no longer in the chair. You sat up and looked toward the kitchen, where you saw Lee with his back to you while he worked with the pans on top of the stove. The portable radio was positioned on the counter, and it was playing at a low volume, so it wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey,” you say softly, still waking up as you walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, doll,” he says, glancing back at you for a moment. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” you admit, grabbing a mug for yourself out of the cabinet. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell before making it how you usually take it. “Thank you for sitting with me,” you say honestly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he says with a small grin. “I just wanted to help.”

“I really appreciate it, Lee,” you reiterate your thanks, hopping up to take a seat on the counter, watching him cook breakfast. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” he smirks, making you feel flushed. You take another drawn out sip of your coffee to try to distract yourself. You watch his arms, and his hands as they maneuver and flex when he cooks. You imagine how they must feel, your eyes focused on the veins. You bit your lip and it reminds you of the dream you had a little while back when he first moved in. You imagine him stepping in between your legs as your propped up on the counter, his hands gently gripping your thighs and-

“I’ll get it,” you announce hurriedly as you hear someone knock on the front door. You hop off the counter careful to not spill your coffee, and head to answer the door. Lee watches you bounce out of the room, fixing your hair as you go and you don’t catch his smile.

“Arvin,” you say surprised, stepping out onto the porch. “What are you doing here?” you ask, with a small grin. You’re confused but nonetheless happy to see him.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he observes, concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say dismissively, “Just last night I was thinking about my ma and everything. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

“The Sheriff didn’t do anything?” Arvin asked in a hushed tone, looking over your shoulder to see if Lee could hear you two.

“No, nothing, he’s been perfectly fine,” you say coming to the Sheriff’s defense. “I know you and Ms. Russell are worried, I know how it must look- but Arvin I swear he’s just my tenant. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Just making sure,” he says, letting it go for now. “Lenora asked me to bring these by for you.” He hands you the glass baking dish that you can see is filled with homemade cinnamon rolls. “She’s been practicing making all kinds of baked goods for when the Church does that bake sale and has me running all over town giving it away cause me and Uncle Earskell can’t keep up with it all.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” you say with a smile, “And I’ll bring the dish with me to Church tomorrow- give it back to her.”

“She misses you I think,” Arvin says sheepishly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “I mean- I do- I think my whole family does- we all do. I’m sorry my grandmother hasn’t asked you over in a while…”

“I understand,” you nod. “Reputation is an important thing.”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was because of us,” he says looking down at the porch, his eyes fixed on a loose board. “You know how she is- everything no matter the context is somehow a sin. Scared to death of her own shadow…”

“I know you’re not that resentful, Arvin Russell,” you chuckle and he relaxes. “And I don’t hold any hard feelings towards anyone in your family- you all have always been good to me.”

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. “I got to hit a couple more houses before I head to work, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Church?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Oh- I wanted to let you know,” he says, turning around as he’s already heading down the front steps, “The principal down at the high school is looking for secretaries- Lenora heard and thought you might be interested. It pays like $35 a week, I think. You should call Linda Carson; I think Lenora said- that’s the woman who’s in charge of hiring people, I think.”

“I’ll call the school first thing Monday morning,” you say, grin stretching from ear to ear. Arvin nods and says goodbye again. You walk back into the house like you’re on top of the world. You couldn’t contain your excitement. That job if you could get it would be a dream. You’d be making so much more than you’re already making. You were so excited.

“You’re in a much better mood than when I last saw you,” Lee jokes. He’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while he eats his breakfast. You notice that he made you a table setting- brought your coffee over and everything. You place the baking dish in the middle of the table and sit down.

“That was Arvin,” you say happily, and Lee feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, trying to not let on how his heart feels like it’s crushed. He knew it was only a matter of time before a boy would come around- whether it be Arvin or someone else your own age.

“Well, first he was just dropping off baked goods Lenora made,” you say gesturing to the dish on the table. “He’s going around to everybody, I guess. He mentioned the high school is looking for office secretaries- Lenora wanted me to know. Thirty-five dollars a week! I’m going to talk to Linda Carson about it Monday morning. Can you imagine? I could get a secretary job.”

Lee feels just a crash of relief wash over him. He’s so happy that you are looking at a new job. You deserve better than that bar. He knew you deserved the job just as much as any of the other candidates. You work harder than anyone he knows.

“That’s fantastic, sugar,” he replies. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I have a chance?” you ask, feeling a little self-conscious- you knew you weren’t as experienced as other candidates would be for sure.

“Of course, I do,” he says, putting down the paper to give you his full attention. “I feel like you getting this job is a definite. There’s no doubt about it.”

“You’re just buttering me up,” you scoff, finishing up your food, making him chuckle. You may have also seen his cheeks redden, but you couldn’t say for sure. You finish off your coffee, and then bring you dishes back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. Lee turns his attention back to his newspaper and you head upstairs to get ready for your day.

When you head upstairs, Lee notices that you took the radio with you- and he could hear you were listening to music from upstairs. He decides before it’s too late to ring Mark Cunningham. The line rings a couple of times before Mark answers.

“Cunningham.”

“Morning, Mark. It’s Sheriff Bodecker,” he smirks.

“What can I do for you Sheriff?” he asks, the sound of shuffling paper comes through as well. Most likely flipping through the paper.

“I wanna call in that favor you owe me,” he says, casually pacing the living room, holding the receiver up to his ear and the base of the rotary phone in the other.

“Of course, Sheriff,” he says. A while back, Bodecker busted the principal making moonshine in his old barn that was at the end of his property. Lee looked the other way and was waiting for the right thing to call in a favor for.

“I want you to hire (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the secretary job,” he says, looking to the stairs, making sure you aren’t coming. The music is still playing loudly from upstairs so he determines he’s still got time.

“That’s all?” Mark asked surprised.

“That’s all I want from you,” Lee replies. “I expect you can make that happen?”

“Without a doubt. When can she start?”

“Still have her come in for an interview. I don’t anyone else knowing I called you about this- including her.”

“Done.”

With that, Lee hangs up the phone, feeling really good about this decision. He knew how much that job meant to you- he could see it in your eyes and how excitedly you talked about it. He can’t wait to see you when you find out you get the position. He knows it’s going to make you so happy. He knows you’d be a fantastic candidate, but this just eliminates any doubt. He reasons that there isn’t much difference, since you were very likely to get it anyways. He just had to make sure.

He can picture you know, coming home from the interview- excited to tell him that you got the job. You’d be so excited you’d jump up and hug him tightly, just so overjoyed that you let your feelings take over. You’d wrap your legs and around his waist and he’d hold you up by holding the back of your thighs. You’d wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’d lift your head up to look at him, embarrassed at your actions and then he’d press his lips to yours. You’d gasp softly, but your lips would melt against his own and your arms would wrap tightly around his neck. He’d walk forward, pressing you up against the wall and he’d kiss your neck mumbling praises of congratulations against your skin as his name falls from your lips at how good he’d make you feel. It’s almost unbearable how bad he wants you.

He heads to him room to get ready for his day, but his mind is still clouded with thoughts of you. He thinks about how much he wants nothing more that to just pin you on his mattress. He wonders if you know how crazy you make him. Sometimes there’s something in your eye that makes him think you want him too, but he’s not sure. His better judgement holds him back from everything he wants to do. He thinks about how it must feel to have his head right in-between your thighs. Back in the kitchen together, he wanted to just get on his knees and worship you. The feeling of them pressing against him as he sucks on your clit and runs his tongue across your folds.

Serval hours later, he can’t shake the thoughts, even sitting in his office at the sheriff’s station- working on a Saturday yet again. He’s cooped up in his office, unable to get through any of the paperwork that has piled up on his desk. He’s thinking about you, again, but in this daydream, you’re bent over his desk- because you came by to see him on your break from work at the school. His office door locked and his blinds pulled so he can bend you over and take you right there- rough and fast, sending you back to work with a feeling of him still there between your legs well after you’re back at your own desk, still sore from the encounter.

“You got a visitor, Lee,” the intercom on his desk lights up.

“Send ‘em in,” he responds back, shaking his head to snap out of it. He needed to get a grip.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you say, walking into his office. His eyes widen and he wonders if he’s still day dreaming. He discreetly pinches himself. You’re actually here, standing in his office, while he looks at you dumbfounded. Part of him would think he manifested it if he was a man of any faith. “You forgot this,” you say, putting his wallet on the desk. “You must have taken it out of your back pocket before falling asleep in the chair last night. It was laying on the coffee table. I figured I’d stop by with it while I was coming up this way anyways.”

“You’re a doll,” he grins, putting his wallet in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“I took the bus to the library to return some books, and now I’m going shopping for something to wear when I go in for an interview since I have the day off to go,” you explain. “I’m also probably going to get lunch after that before heading back home. I just didn’t want to be home in case that reporter stopped by. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“I can take care of it,” he says, “He’ll make his way over here soon enough. I can talk to him.”

“You would do that for me?” you ask, the relief evident across your whole face.

“Yeah, I can talk to him, let him know you gave a statement here,” he says. You nod. “You know as much as he does, so it doesn’t matter if I tell him you don’t know shit or if you tell him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, so relieved thinking that you won’t have to hear from Henry Curtis again. “If he tells you anything about them… will you let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you say, hurriedly walking over behind him and quickly hugging his shoulders. You then are back by the door again before he can register the gesture. “Are you going to be home tonight?” you ask, your hand on the doorknob.

“Not until late,” he says reluctantly, and he can see the disappointment on your face- unless his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Okay,” you say finally, “Um, I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye, doll,” he says when you walk out of his office.

Are you going to be home tonight? Your voice lingers in his head. It was such a harmless phrase that could’ve just been one of curiosity. Maybe you were just asking because you were thinking about what you were doing for dinner. It most likely just meant nothing. But, the look on your face when he said no makes him think otherwise. Did it mean you cared? That you wanted to spend time with him? You wanted to see him and be with him as desperately as he needed you perhaps? Just the phrasing itself makes his brain feel like putty. It’s like you’re waiting up for him. It’s like you share the house in a way that’s much more than just him renting a room from you. It’s like you’re his and he’s yours. It’s like saying our house… our home. The question was so intimate and implied so much more about how you saw him and what he was to you. He knew seeing him as how he saw you was next to impossible, but you saw him as more than the Sheriff and more than just the jerk living in your house.

Part Four

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #smut #the devil all the time #angst #lee bodecker x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader

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typical-simplelove · 3 years

Text

Peter Pan (M. Tkachuk)

Summary: Based off of Kelsea Ballerini’s song, Peter Pan. What happens when Matthew strings you along in an adventure and can’t grow up?

A/n: This idea came to me and I wrote it in 2 hours. I’m sorry for any hurt I caused you.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, Avengers: Endgame spoilers (yes, I’m a Marvel nerd), angsty (very), unresolved ending

Word Count: 5k (including song lyrics)

I hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @boqvistsbabe @beauvibaby @heatherawoowoo @rmaye @mellany1997 @heaveniish @tkapuckit @stars-canucks (Do you want to be tagged in my fics? Fill out this form.)

The smile, the charm, the words, the spark Everything, you had it I guess I had a naive heart, cause boy I let you have it You said I was your only I never thought you'd leave me lonely

There was something about him, something that drew you in. You couldn’t quite say what it was. However, it was there. Was it the way the sweet words of love and adoration flowed so easily from his mouth? Was it the charm he so easily expressed and had? Was it the way his hair sat on his head so beautifully? Was it the spark that you felt was there? No, the spark that you insisted was there? Was it ever there? You fell for him. Your naive heart fell for the boy. You couldn’t even call him a man. He was a boy. Playing with your feelings and your heart. He took what you gave him, ate it up, and came back to when he wanted. He said he was only seeing you. Did you believe him? Yeah, you did. You weren’t sure why. You knew the way he was. He acted like the boys in high school. He acted like your young cousins and brothers. Yet, you allowed yourself to fall for him. You fell for a boy who didn’t know how to be a man.

You fell for a boy. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, a person who was notorious for being a boy who would do nothing but hurt you. Unable to ever be mature in romantic relationships. He wanted the adventure and the love. Matthew wanted all the easy parts and disappeared when things got hard. He always came back when things cleared up or when he needed someone to make his heart rush. You always let him back into your life despite what everyone said. You told them that it didn’t matter. Matthew cared for you. He had feelings for you. He wasn’t using you to have an adventure. He would smarten up and realize what you had to offer on his own time. Right?

Matthew Tkachuk was a boy. It was a mistake to fall for him, yet you did. You fell for him. You took the bread crumbs he gave you and ate them up. You never asked for more because deep down you knew that he wouldn’t give them to you.

Matthew Tkachuk was lost in Neverland. He was a lost boy. He refused to grow up. Why did he need to? He had all this money, glory, and fame at his disposal. There was no need for him to grow. He had a girl who was devout to him and would always be there. That was, until you left. Until you realized you deserved better. Matthew didn’t have you anymore when you realized that Matthew was Peter Pan and never wanted to grow up.

Sometimes good things have to end. Sometimes you have to think for yourself. That’s what you did. Matthew couldn’t give you what you wanted. You wanted someone to love you all the days of the year, not just when he wanted to. Matthew loved you on his terms - a sign of a boy. He was lost. You weren’t. You needed to leave, so you did. You left Matthew Tkachuk because he refused to grow up. You weren’t going to be there the next time he came running to you. Matthew wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t give you what you wanted. He was a boy who couldn’t have an adult relationship. He would keep coming back to you and telling you he changed. He didn’t. He never did. He never grew and never realized what he was doing.

The next time when Matthew came back to you, you were going to turn him away. You didn’t have time in your life for boys. You wanted, no deserved, someone who would care and love you in the way you should be.

You're just a lost boy, with your head up in the clouds You're just a lost boy, never keep your feet on the ground

The first time you met Matthew, you were on cloud nine. No one looked at you the way he did. No one smiled at you the way he did. No one made your heart rush in the way he did.

He bought you a drink as people do in bars. It was different, though. He didn’t want to sleep with you. No, he did but that wasn’t the ultimate goal. There was a glint in his eyes that told you that he didn’t want only a hookup. The way his smile curved when you didn’t walk away from him. That should have been the first sign. He was playing a game. He knew what he was doing. Matthew knows about girls like you. He knows that girls like you want someone to make them happy. Someone to come home to and to make memories with. He wanted a girl like you to be part of his tally. Matthew wanted you as one of his adventures.

And you let him do that to you. You let Matthew sweep you off your feet. You let Matthew use you to be one of his adventures of his bachelor life. He didn’t want something serious. You told yourself he would change his mind. You kept telling yourself that. He would eventually want something serious. Right? He just needed to realize what he wanted on his own. Matthew knew though, you weren’t going to have something serious with him. Matthew knew exactly what he was going and, deep down, you did, too. You knew Matthew was going to string you along and just make you one his stories he reflects on the night before his wedding. You were going to be one of those girls in his life that Matthew would look back on and say ‘thank you for making me realize that I wanted to settle down’. You weren't endgame for him even though you wanted him to be. There was no one on this planet who made your heart rush, made the heat instantly rush to your face, or made your smile just because you thought about him. There was no one quite like him in your life.

Matthew was different, you kept telling people. He was different. Your friends were telling you to be careful. That you did. You made sure you guard your heart because you didn’t want to get heartbroken. Slowly, though, Matthew chipped his way into your heart and it was only a matter of time before you fell. It was a matter of when not if; you’d collapse because Matthew couldn’t give you what you wanted.

At first, you and Matthew didn’t have any labels. You both could go out for drinks casually or maybe a movie night every now and then. Nothing monumental. You were ready, though, to take the next step. You wanted to be more with Matthew. You thought knew that he wanted the same thing, right? You both weren’t technically exclusive but it was also implied that you both weren’t seeing other people. Well, that’s what you thought. You didn’t talk to any other people other than Matthew. Why would you when you had Matthew? Someone who made you incredibly happy and made your insides all warm and fuzzy. You brought it up numerous times, yet he always brushed it off and said let’s not make anything too complicated. So, you didn’t. You left it at that because you wanted Matthew. You needed Matthew. Your life began to orbit around the Flames’ schedule because that’s what Matthew wanted. He was going on an adventure that made his heart rush. He knew exactly what he was doing. Matthew knew exactly what you wanted. He wasn’t going to give it to you, though. He was too lost and immature to realize how much he was hurting you and how much he would hurt you. To him, this was fine. Matthew was going to string you along and let you be.

This pattern continued on for six months. You and Matthew were, again, not exclusive but it was also implied that you weren’t seeing anyone else. So you thought. The first time Matthew hurt you and made you feel terrible and unworthy of any kind of love should have been a red flag. You shouldn’t even have to label it as the first time. It should just be ‘the time when’. No first, second, third, fourth, etc. Why did you let Matthew have this power over you? Easy, he made you feel loved, special, and happy.

Until he didn’t.

You went out for drinks with your friends a Friday night after work. You wanted to see Matthew; no, you were dying to see Matthew. He said he had plans, so you made your own plans. You put on the outfit that made you the most confident and if it happened to be the one you wore when you met Matthew, then so be it. You walk into the rowdy and raucous bar. You looked around and your face paled. You weren’t sure why it shocked you considering you and Matthew weren’t officially exclusive, but it still hurt. Matthew was sitting at a booth with three beautiful girls surrounding him. Girls that you knew he wouldn’t be stringing along if he were seeing them. You weren’t sure why it hurt so much. This was the game Matthew was playing. This was the adventure that he was taking. It didn’t matter if you couldn’t see him playing it, Matthew was stringing you along. This night was one of many where Matthew was playing. He was a boy. He didn’t want to grow up and realize what he had in front of him.

You tried to ignore Matthew that night, but you couldn’t. His laugh was ringing throughout the bar and it was the only thing you could hear. Your friends looked at you with pity in their eyes. Yes, they told you to be careful and this would be the perfect ‘I told you so’ moment but the sadness in your eyes stopped them. Your friends wanted to walk over to Matthew to confront him. They didn’t. You chose to forget and ignore what was happening across the bar.

At 11:24 that night, you decided you had had enough. You wanted to go home; you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to be the girl that Matthew was laughing with not watching it happen. You say goodbye to your friends and walk out of the bar. You wish it were that easy. On your way out, a guy who was probably your age ran into you and spilled his drink everywhere. You cried out in shock of the cold drink meeting your chest. The cry out made Matthew’s eyes perk up. He knew that sound. He isn’t sure why he recognized it. Matthew looked up and saw that you were talking to someone else. You were laughing and giggling with this guy. You didn’t tell him to get away. Matthew wanted to know why. Also, what were you doing there? Why didn’t you come up to him? Why didn’t you opt to go see him? One of the girls sitting next to him tapped Matthew’s shoulder and he realized why. You weren’t going to come up to him whilst he was preoccupied with someone else. That was the way you were. You thought about other people’s feelings first and didn’t overstep your boundaries.

Matthew instantly gets up. He has to fix this with you because then how else would he be able to continue his adventure? He needed you to be the one to excite him and make his heart race. Matthew ditched the girls and his friends at the booth and ran after you.

“Hey,” someone said to you as they grabbed your arm. You turn around and see Matthew’s face. “Why didn’t you come and say hi?”

You remember looking at Matthew with disgust. He wanted to know why you didn’t interrupt him talking with other girls? He was with other girls. This was one of those perfect opportunities to tell him how you felt but you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why. No, you could. You knew that if you told Matthew exactly why you didn’t go over to him, he wouldn’t want to keep seeing you. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t sabotage whatever this was. You needed Matthew in your life like you needed air to breath. So, you lied. “Oh, I actually didn’t see you.”

Matthew sighed a breath of relief. That means that you didn’t see those girls. That meant that the game he was stringing you along with was going to actually work. He could continue playing his game and continue the adventure you brought. “Why don’t you come in and hang out with my friends?”

You shake your head and try to blink back tears. You couldn’t. You would never fit in with those types of people. “I’m actually going to head home. Maybe another time?”

“Oh, come on, don’t be that way. Come, for me?” You so wanted to bend and go in with him. In the first time in this six month relationship, barely, you finally had a thought of sense.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” You walked away. You hoped, no begged, for Matthew to chase after you. To call out to you and insist you stayed. You wanted him to call out to text him that you got home safely. He didn’t. He walked back into the bar like it was no big deal and that he didn’t ruin your evening.

When you got home that night, you hopped in the shower and cried. You weren’t sure why you cried. The fact that Matthew made you cry should be another red flag to you. You were crying over a boy who didn’t care for you the way you did. You were crying over a boy. A boy! Not even a man. Not someone who had complex feelings and thoughts. A boy who only wanted you for the thrill. He was only with you because he knew that you weren’t going to leave. He knew the game he was playing.

You're always gonna fly away, just because you know you can You're never gonna learn there's no such place as Neverland You don't understand You'll never grow up You're never gonna be a man Peter Pan

This kept happening. Matthew kept on stringing you along and you often cried yourself to sleep. You weren’t sure why you couldn’t leave. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why Matthew had this effect on you. He was like a drug and you were addicted. You couldn’t stop being around him. You could be in the same room but twenty feet apart and you’d have this sense of tranquility. You weren’t sure why you even bothered with him. Six months after that night in the bar, Matthew and you still haven’t gone exclusive. You weren’t seeing or talking to anyone else. You assumed he wasn’t either.

The second time Matthew hurt you should have been the last time. For some reason, Matthew was intoxicating. You just couldn’t leave like he could so easily. Matthew had the ability to just randomly up and leave. He would talk to you for three or four days straight and then stop talking to you for weeks. You should have stopped talking to him altogether. You should have blocked his number and on Instagram. You just couldn’t do it. No matter how much you tried and hyped yourself up to block him, you couldn’t.

The second time. This time hurt more than it should have. He told you to meet him at a restaurant close to where you work. So you did, you brought a change of clothes to work so you’d look nice. You put a beautiful dress that accentuated your curves perfectly. He told you he put a reservation under his name. And he did. Matthew put a reservation for the two of you under his name at seven. You showed up at 7:15 thinking being fashionably late would strike your appeal. It didn’t. He wasn’t there. You told yourself he was running late, too. You sat down at your table and waited. You looked over the menu and people watched. Your phone hit 7:45 and you decided to text him. He didn’t reply. It was 8:00 when you realized he wasn’t going to show up. You were starving and didn’t want to make anything, so you ordered your meal. The waiting staff were nice and you think they put your meal as top priority. They probably realized that you got stood up and wanted to put you out of your misery. You left a generous tip.

You left the restaurant at 8:36 and was going to walk to the bus station. You were walking when you looked up and saw Matthew’s familiar head of hair. You stopped. Your heart broke into a million pieces. He stood you up for someone else. Is that what he’s been doing this time? Going to you for the emotion and love of a relationship and going to her for the excitement and fun and sex of a relationship. Was that all you were to him? A joke?

You watched Matthew and this other girl walk into a restaurant. You had to walk by the restaurant in order to get to the bus station. You prayed that they didn’t have a window seat. The universe didn’t like you that much. They had a window seat. Actually, they had an outdoor patio seat. You walked by them and begged for their attention not to be on you. You didn’t pay attention to them. You ignored them. You remember Matthew calling out to you. You heard him call you ‘someone he knows’ as if you two weren’t a thing. Well, you actually weren’t. Yes, you both slept together and went on dates. But, as you now know, doesn’t mean that you two were exclusive. Yes, you weren’t seeing anyone else but that didn’t mean he wasn’t. You got on the bus and willed the tears to stay away until you got home. It worked. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you cried whilst on the bus.

The minute you walked into your apartment, you collapsed. The tears began streaming down your face. You weren’t sure why you were letting yourself to continue getting hurt by him. He’s stood you up before; however, normally you didn’t catch him with another girl. Normally, he texted you an apology. Was he with her all this time? What were you doing? Matthew was playing a game with you that you didn’t know what the rules were. You were in uncharted territory. You were like Henry Hudson looking for the Northwest Passage. You were like the Avengers after it was revealed that Thanos had destroyed the Infinity Stones. You were lost.

Despite this hurt, you kept on giving him excuses. You kept saying, what if he forgot? What if she was just a friend? You knew, however, deep down, that this wasn’t the case. You knew that Matthew didn’t care for you the way that you did.

You still went back to him. You went back to Matthew, the boy you cared for. The boy you were falling for. You were eating up the small bits of crumbs he gave you. You were waiting for the whole loaf. You were waiting on a boy who didn’t know what he was doing to you. You were falling for a boy. A boy! An immature boy who didn’t want to grow up. A boy who thought he lived in Neverland where he had forever to act like this. A boy who thought that it was okay to treat you like this. You were falling for a boy who would continue to fly away from you and then come back and you’d welcome him back. He flew away because he knew that you’d take him back. All this, and you had never been referred to as his girlfriend. You didn’t refer to him as your boyfriend because that’s not what you guys were. You were nothing but an adventure to him. You were nothing but an adventure that quickened his pulse. You were nothing more than just a girl who he could lead on and use for his games. You didn’t matter to him the way that Matthew mattered to you. Matthew didn’t carve out a part of his life for you the way that you did for him.

He was a boy lost in a world of adults.

Deep down, I knew that you were too good to be true But every piece and part of me wanted to believe in you But now it's happily ever never I guess now I know better

You wish you could say that after he stood you up, you stopped talking to him. It wasn’t. Sadly, Matthew still continued to hurt you. And you let him. You weren’t sure why. You kept telling people that the times that you were together made up for all of the times he hurt you. All those times he stood you up, ignored you, disappeared on you, or made you cry were made up with good memories. What were those good memories? Those were so far and in between that you couldn’t even remember what they were. If someone had to ask you what your favorite memory is with Matthew, you’d have to pause and think for a moment. Actually, many moments. Oftentimes, you changed the subject. Deep down, you knew that those memories didn’t exist. Matthew hasn’t made you happy in a long time. But, your heart raced every time that you saw him. That, to you, was enough to keep him in your life and not block him out.

One night, you were up waiting for Matthew. He had a Flames charity event and told you it was team only and no significant others. You believed him. You soaked it up and believed him. Matthew never gave you any reason for you to doubt what he was saying. He told you he’d stop by afterwards, so you waited. It was 10:57 when you got an Instagram notification. It was Annica. She posted a photo on Instagram. You open it up and look at the photo. Your face pales. She was at the charity event. So Matthew lied. That was the right thing for you to think. You think you wouldn’t have defended Matthew, right? Sadly, you made up excuses for him. Your conclusion was that only exclusive and labeled girlfriends could attend. That made sense, right? The Flames organization wouldn’t want some random girls to show up. Content with this answer, you closed your phone and returned back to the show you were watching.

You weren’t sure when Matthew would be home, so you texted him. You opened up Instagram to waste some time. You checked the time; it was 11:46. You scrolled and your eye caught on what the Flames had posted. It was photos from the Flames event that night. You swipe through the first three photos. All photos of the team. The fourth photo caught your attention. Matthew was standing there with Annica, Elias, Jacob, and another girl. Had this been any other situation, you would have assumed it was Jacob’s girlfriend. However, you knew he was single as he told you so just recently. Also, this was the same girl that Matthew was with the night he stood you up. To make matters worse, she was standing at the end of the picture and Matthew’s hand was visibly on her waist. You click on the photo and see that she’s tagged. You go to her profile and sigh in relief that it’s public. You notice that she’s updated her story. The first photo is of her and Matthew taking a mirror selfie in an elevator. The second photo is of Matthew kissing her. Matthew was kissing another girl. He lied. Matthew lied. He was in this relationship with another girl and was still seeing you. He was kissing you and sleeping with you as if it were no big deal. Did she know? Did the team know? You’ve met the team numerous times. Did they know? You look through her feed and see many photos of Matthew. Them on dates or just out and about. Matthew was hurting you and stringing you along. He didn’t care.

You weren’t sure why this time you finally realized what was happening. You weren’t sure why it was this instance that finally broke your heart. You couldn’t take it. You immediately blocked Matthew on Instagram and unfollowed everyone on his team and anyone you followed because they were friends with Matthew. You went and blocked his phone number and deleted every photo of him. In the morning, you decided that you would purge your apartment of anything Matthew. You went to bed and cried yourself to sleep.

You fell for a boy who used you for a game. You fell for a boy who only wanted an adventure. You fell for a boy who only wanted to play. There was nothing more than that. He never cared for you in the way you did. He led you on for almost two years and you defended him. You let him do this to you. Yes, Matthew was to blame but so were you. You let him do this to you.

He was Peter Pan and you were Wendy. You grew up but he didn’t.

You're always gonna fly away, just because you know you can You're never gonna learn there's no such place as Neverland You don't understand You'll never grow up You're never gonna be a man Peter Pan

The next morning, you got rid of anything that reminded you of Matthew. You also told your landlord that you were not going to renew your lease at the end of the month. You had to leave. You knew that if Matthew had any way of finding you, you’d let him in and back into your life. You started looking for new apartments and a new job. You couldn’t stay in Calgary. You had to leave. You couldn’t stay in a city where someone who broke you so badly was.

You stayed in a short term apartment until you found a new job and place outside of Calgary. You couldn’t stay at the apartment you were at. You knew Matthew and you knew that he’d just randomly stop by to surprise you. Normally, that would make your heart melt. Now, you were callous and ruthless. You couldn’t let him into your life. You couldn’t let yourself see him. You knew that the minute you looked into his eyes and saw his smile, you’d cave. You refused to let yourself do that.

You got a message from Jacob the other day. You read it but ignored it. You didn’t care that it would be marked as read. He said something about how you disappeared off the face of the earth and Matthew was scared as to where you were. Now he cares? Not all of these other times that he broke your heart and made you cry? Most people would find that sweet and romantic. You knew better. You knew that he knew that you finally caught onto his game. You know that he knows. He’s worried that you’re going to tell this other girl the truth.

Jacob sent you another message shortly after saying that he was worried about you, not Matthew. Your heart warmed knowing that someone cared about you; however, you were skeptical. You didn’t want to open your heart again. You replied to Jacob and told him that you were fine. Jacob must have told Matthew because Matthew emailed you. He went to the effort to look for your work email and send a message. You almost caved. You were about to reply but then you remembered what he did and you ignored it. You blocked his email.

Two days later, you found a new job. You were moving to Toronto for a new job. You gave your two weeks notice and planned everything you possibly could to leave right away. The longer you were in Calgary the more it hurt. When the day finally came to go to Toronto, you breathed a sigh of relief. You were sad to leave your friends and to be far from your family. However, you knew that you needed to heal and find yourself again. Your friends and family knew that you couldn’t heal or find yourself again if you remained in Calgary.

You fell for a boy who couldn’t give you what you wanted. You let this boy take your feelings and use them the way he wanted. You let him ruin you. You let Matthew Tkachuk do what he wanted and you didn’t fight back. He was lost and didn’t want to grow up. You knew that one day, Matthew was going to realize that he made a mistake. He should have locked you down because you were amazing. He’s, somehow, going to find you and you know you’re not going to let him get to you. Because he was never going to grow up. One day, Matthew will find someone who he loves and will want to have a true relationship with. Sadly, that wasn’t you. However, if this thing with Matthew can teach you something, it’s that you know what you deserve. You deserve someone who will love and care for you. This person won’t stand you and see other girls. This person won’t drag you along for almost two years and not make anything official. You weren’t going to date a boy ever again.

You weren’t going to date someone who was a child and lived in Neverland. Never again. Someone like Peter Pan never learns and never grows. One day, when you find yourself again, you’ll open your heart to love again. Someone like Matthew Tkachuk isn’t going to ruin that for you.

Your home of Calgary may forever be tainted with terrible memories, but your new home of Toronto is home to change and growth you’ve made.

Matthew Tkachuk used you in an adventure in his life and used you like you were a game. Nothing mattered to him. He didn’t care. He just knew that you’d always let him back into your life and forgive him. This time, you know better. You’re not going to welcome him back.

You weren’t going to fall for a boy who didn’t know how to grow up. Peter Pan lost Wendy because he couldn’t grow up, and Matthew lost you because he couldn’t grow up.

Yeah, you'll never grow up And you're never gonna be a man Peter Pan Never gonna be a man

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl writing #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames x reader #i'm truly sorry for the angst in this #claudia writes

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edenmemes · 3 years

Text

the witcher 3: wild hunt starters

including quotes from the dlcs hearts of stone & blood and wine

❝ you were always an unruly child. i adored that about you. ❞ ❝ mmm. yes. of course. the excuse you resort to when you’d rather not talk about something. ❞ ❝ how many have you killed? how many more might you still? ❞ ❝ you know who i am. and why i’m here. ❞ ❝ you're a madman and always have been. a cruel, cold-blooded killer. ❞ ❝ a man should frame his wishes carefully. it forestalls disappointment. ❞ ❝ no argument. you knew what you were signing up for. ❞ ❝ maybe once, in a different time...i’d have helped. ❞ ❝ don’t train alone, it only embeds your errors. ❞ ❝ wanna get drunk off my ass. and it’s gotta be on cheap wine. ❞ ❝ you’re a heartless bastard. ❞ ❝ try to trick me anyway, anyhow, you won’t go anywhere, you know that. ‘cause i’ll take your head off right where it meets your neck. ❞ ❝ sorry. i don’t want to talk about it. not now, at least. ❞ ❝ we are more like a family. we support each other and help each other survive tough moments. ❞ ❝ so how’s it feel to be the village witch? ❞ ❝ realize, please, that you were made for great things. ❞ ❝ folks say a curse has fallen on that place, a dark power brought down by the bestiality of the murders it beheld. ❞ ❝ so, now you’ve threatened me and all...are you in or are you not? ❞ ❝ i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real... ❞ ❝ we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim. ❞ ❝ it’s always been about you. only you. ❞ ❝ i remember finding your sense of humor both groan-worthy...and somehow endearing. ❞ ❝ kings die, realms fall, but magic endures. ❞ ❝ i detest banquets. vacuous conversation, food portions fit for a mouse, drinks that taste like piss... ❞ ❝ despite what you’ve heard, i don’t lunge at every monster i see, sword in hand. ❞ ❝ each day’s more dangerous than the last. ❞ ❝ it’s folks like you that restore my faith in humankind. ❞ ❝ my power lies in possessing knowledge, not sharing it. ❞ ❝ the rotten smell brings back childhood memories. ❞ ❝ awfully noble of you, showing so much concern for the needy. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me. always glad to save your ass. you’re welcome. ❞ ❝ i may be inhumanely beautiful, but i don’t have super human senses. ❞ ❝ anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how. ❞ ❝ we’ve done the hardest part. only got the pleasant bits now. ❞ ❝ there are few causes worth saving. even fewer men. ❞ ❝ don’t treat me like a child. ❞ ❝ there’s strange men lurking outside the house. watching me. ❞ ❝ you must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted. for there are consequences. ❞ ❝ shall i be free of the suffering? the sadness? ❞ ❝ i wish to gaze into those eyes, eyes the devil would be proud to have. ❞ ❝ you were born with a great gift. and only you can decide how to use it. ❞ ❝ any other words of wisdom? or can we go? ❞ ❝ what i need is an ally. and something tells me i shall find none better than you. ❞ ❝ i can see no row can occur here without your participation. ❞ ❝ i and what concerns me have not been a concern of yours for some time now. ❞ ❝ if you’d not arrived in time, things might have ended considerably worse. ❞ ❝ if they can bleed, they can die. ❞ ❝ a man must display some madness from time to time --- it helps him feel alive. ❞ ❝ i was deeply troubled. you’ve no idea. ❞ ❝ done that so many times, but...it felt like our first kiss to me. ❞ ❝ don’t need to play tough on me. ❞ ❝ i've lost too many mates already. i won’t risk it, i can't. ❞ ❝ there’s just not enough of us. it’ll be a hard fight. ❞ ❝ in lonely woods, screams carry long. ❞ ❝ things used to be simpler. monsters were bad, humans good. now, everything’s all confused. ❞ ❝ as for your missteps --- i don't rightly see why i shouldn't laugh if they're amusing.. ❞ ❝ i’ve no gold to offer you in reward...but i shall be ever so grateful. ❞ ❝ if you’re scared, turn back. i’m gonna go on. ❞ ❝ if anything happens, i’ll defend you. ❞ ❝ once you say "i love you," a kiss has to taste differently. ❞ ❝ maybe we should sit? you look a bit dazed... ❞ ❝ drink it off, sleep it off, whatever it takes...just get yourself together and think things through. ❞ ❝ i shall join later, if it’s no trouble. i don’t yet feel strong enough to venture out. ❞ ❝ awake at last. you writhed like a squirrel caught in a snare. ❞ ❝ again you plan without even asking what i think! ❞ ❝ come to see how i’m feelin'? thanks, not bad. ❞ ❝ i remember that day quite well...there was a light drizzle, yet the cold tore right through you. ❞ ❝ you gotta keep your eyes peeled wide open. someone’s taken an interest in your work. ❞ ❝ oof...for a minute, i actually thought we were doomed. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t worry yourself --- it tarnishes your beauty. ❞ ❝ i’d even embrace you...were you not covered in blood. ❞ ❝ guess i could’ve been someone worse...just a shame i had no choice. ❞ ❝ facts interest me. not fairytales. ❞ ❝ hm, odd smell. blend of alcohol, blood and monster stench. ❞ ❝ i’m old and i am wealthy. i may say what i please. ❞ ❝ now, be so kind and leave me to my thoughts. ❞ ❝ in your shoes i’d pack it up and go hide somewhere far away. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but that's the blatherin' of someone who clearly can't snap out of it after a tragic loss. ❞ ❝ that all you gotta say? i saved your life. ❞ ❝ i swear on all that is holy: we shall be together forever. ❞ ❝ think of me as part of the decor. ❞ ❝ anyone who’s bold enough to fight is already a hero. ❞ ❝ if this is a trap of some sort... ❞ ❝ you can count on me, you know? always. ❞ ❝ you don’t know how much it means...to have someone you can rely on in this fucking city. ❞ ❝ i know you. you have no heart. ❞ ❝ no room for friendship in this business. ❞ ❝ evil is evil. lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. the degree is arbitrary, the definitions blurred. ❞ ❝ hands off, or i'll cut them off. ❞ ❝ i’ll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams, i feel it’s full of cobwebs. ❞ ❝ on your way? or will you stay longer? it’s far safer with you around... ❞ ❝ really sad story, but something’s not right. got a feeling you’re not telling me everything. ❞ ❝ gotta admit, there’s something about you. you’re...different. ❞ ❝ with each arrow i shoot, i think of my dad. he’d be proud, i think. ❞ ❝ i merely know when to indulge my pride, and when to swallow it. ❞ ❝ you were born to greatness. ❞ ❝ these’re dark, grim times. no room for knights pure of heart or happily-ever-afters. ❞ ❝ a life without liquor’s like loving without licking. ❞ ❝ my certainty i walk the right path grows strong as iron, firm as steel. ❞ ❝ few make me feel awkward, but in your presence, i feel anxiety, discomfort. ❞ ❝ some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows. ❞ ❝ some men cannot admit defeat. some keep fighting from beyond the grave. ❞ ❝ stare into their eyes, feast on their terror. then go in for the kill. ❞ ❝ forget not that you are a person right and honorable, devoted to doing good. ❞ ❝ ash shall fertilize the soil. by spring, the valley shall bloom once more. ❞ ❝ there’s lots of wraiths here. i hear them whispering every night. ❞ ❝ no one has the courage to face this threat! yet we must kill them, or sooner or later we will all die. ❞ ❝ you are a step away from losing your head. speak the truth and you might yet keep it. ❞ ❝ you carry within you the weight of a terrible tragedy. you are a good person, but lost. which is why you come across as grim. ❞ ❝ if i understand you correctly, you would rather help a monster than kill it? ❞ ❝ discouraged after a mere eight attempts? ❞ ❝ easier to pat someone on the back and hope things will work out than it is to face the truth. ❞ ❝ know that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks? ❞ ❝ my, you’ve grown beautiful. ❞ ❝ my swords a promise --- if i reach for it, heads will roll. ❞ ❝ one condition: no one dies. that clear? ❞ ❝ patience happens to be my weakness. so dispense with the dramatic pauses and talk. ❞ ❝ you proved today you can take care of yourself. ❞ ❝ you under the delusion you’ll complete your tasks, live happily ever after? ❞ ❝ i will not sit and twiddle my thumbs. i'm sick of waiting, sick of hiding! ❞ ❝ glad you know who i am. haven’t introduced yourself, though. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen a great deal --- cruelty, cynicism, greed. ❞ ❝ you tempt fate, because at heart you are unhappy. ❞ ❝ we had our chance, but...let it go. ❞ ❝ come now, you didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you? ❞ ❝ promise me one thing --- you’ll stop risking your life for others. ❞ ❝ instead of dwelling on the future, i’d rather live in the moment. ❞ ❝ i adore love stories. especially the ones that end happily ever after. ❞ ❝ we are drops of rain that together make a ferocious storm. ❞ ❝ the path to freedom is paved in blood, not ink. ❞ ❝ we’ll get our happy ending. one day. ❞ ❝ i’ll never forget what you did for me...and what we had together. ❞ ❝ don’t meddle in other people’s lives. ❞ ❝ i don’t get attached to places. just people. ❞ ❝ it’s dangerous, there are risks involved. understand that, don’t you? ❞ ❝ and here i hoped someone would finally take pity on me. ❞ ❝ seen a lot of dead in my time, but that must’ve been hard. ❞ ❝ air is strange...like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day... ❞ ❝ wouldn’t carry a sword if i didn’t know how to use it. ❞ ❝ take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so... ❞ ❝ i was attacked --- had to defend myself. ❞ ❝ guards have never stopped me, you know that. ❞ ❝ treating the ill and wounded...it’s my calling. ❞ ❝ you think it’s enchanted? ❞ ❝ there are times when a woman should simply not explain her decision. ❞ ❝ won’t find too many comforts, but try to feel at home. ❞ ❝ i was looking for you...sometimes i thought you were just a step away. other times, i felt like i was going around in circles. ❞ ❝ i’ll remember you. always with a smile. ❞ ❝ i’d rather you not make anymore trouble --- for yourself, or us both. ❞ ❝ got the stench of corpes on you. ❞ ❝ you stood to gain --- that is why you saved me. ❞ ❝ sages invariably have hidden agendas. altruism is simply not part of their constitution. ❞ ❝ the gods have abandoned us. the mighty of this earth care not for our fate. ❞ ❝ is that admiration i hear in your voice? ❞ ❝ i started off heading in the opposite direction, but then turned around. ❞ ❝ i’m fed up. i won’t have others deciding for me behind my back. ❞ ❝ where’d you get this idea? what’s gotten into you? ❞ ❝ i don't expect you to commit now. think it over, what you've heard, what you feel. ❞ ❝ head torn clear off...takes incredible strength. ❞ ❝ desperate fathers have been known to do a lot to find their daughters. ❞ ❝ you cannot kill me. you know this... ❞ ❝ "i give you my heart”? what kind of spell is that? ❞ ❝ i’d go anywhere with you. ❞ ❝ why? because i am a woman? in a frock, rather than plate? i can take care of myself, i assure you. ❞ ❝ everything we discussed here, hope you’ll keep it to yourself. counting on it, in fact. ❞ ❝ trusted you once. won’t make that mistake again. ❞ ❝ shut up. i’ve heard enough of your bullshit. draw your weapon, let’s get this over with. ❞ ❝ exaggerating for effect, right? ❞ ❝ well, well...when cornered, you can bite. ��❞ ❝ you cannot win...even if you kill me. ❞ ❝ you know i’m good at accomplishing the impossible. ❞ ❝ it’s nothing, really. you’d have done the same for me. ❞ ❝ you are not ready. you do not control your powers. ❞ ❝ you’re a tool in their hands, even if you don’t see it. ❞ ❝ i’d do anything for you, i would. you know that well. ❞ ❝ this is a land where the fantastic is normal, and the impossible occurs daily... ❞ ❝ know when a legend becomes a prophecy? when it gain believers. ❞ ❝ i thought you’d become a stranger to me. that i’d look at you and not feel a thing. but it’s not like that at all. nothing’s changed. ❞ ❝ to be honest, i just wanted to go on a walk with you. ❞ ❝ what i really want is to be with you, to...to be together and... ❞ ❝ this is not the kind of offer one refuses. ❞ ❝ despair devours you like maggots devour a corpse. ❞ ❝ before long every soul will kneel before you. ❞ ❝ i run into dilemmas all the time. situations where it's hard to judge, hard to know what's right, make a decision. this is not one of them. you disgust me. and deserve to die. ❞ ❝ you know me. i’m rare to praise, but when i do, it’s sincere. ❞ ❝ i'm not a thug for hire. ❞ ❝ i like being on adventures, sleeping under the stars, waking up with dew on my face. ❞ ❝ the dream's within reach now. i’m not about to let it go. ❞ ❝ unlike you, killing gives me no pleasure. ❞ ❝ can't speak for the world you inhabit, but in mine, nothing is ever black and white. ❞ ❝ you cannot possibly imagine how much i detest this place. ❞ ❝ stones you’ve got. but i didn’t think you’d have the stomach for a massacre. ❞ ❝ the dead man --- looked like a monster attacked him recently. ❞ ❝ finish all your business before you die. bid loved ones farewell. write your will. apologize to those you’ve wronged. otherwise, you’ll never truly leave this world. ❞ ❝ i've had nothing but nightmares lately. pretty horrible. ❞ ❝ i was wandering through the forest, breathing deep the air, and then i heard a strange sound, unsettling. ❞ ❝ had a few nice dreams. for example, in one we sat around a fire, drinking good wine, and all around people danced and laughed. ❞ ❝ they’re all dead! mountains of corpses. yet here i stand alone. all alone. ❞ ❝ this isn’t a game. men have died. ❞ ❝ if you wanna listen, listen, if not --- i'd rather you spared me your wit and throw me out now. ❞ ❝ you fed me, cared for me, had my wounds looked after. we're even now. ❞ ❝ you’ll return, you shall. our fates are bound. ❞ ❝ i’ve nothing left. not a fucking thing. ❞ ❝ i don’t question your abilities. i simply don’t trust you. ❞ ❝ what foolish things men sometimes do. ❞ ❝ dare harm me, and against you will rise all the powers of nature. ❞ ❝ did you destroy the evil powers? have you brought peace to my domain? ❞ ❝ well, perhaps i shall tell you about it one day. one day, but not today.. ❞ ❝ times like these, you never know what tomorrow will bring. ❞ ❝ you worry too much. what will be, will be. ❞ ❝ have you gone completely mad? we must leave here at once! ❞ ❝ time eats away at memories, distorts them. sometimes we only remember the good... sometimes only the bad. ❞ ❝ you don’t need magic to strip men of their humanity. i’ve seen plenty of examples. ❞ ❝ if i’m to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose at all. ❞ ❝ see what i’ve got on my back? wolves fear it. kings do, too. ❞ ❝ i missed those awkward compliments of yours. ❞ ❝ sometimes i think it’s all too lovely to be true…that something’s bound to happen, another war or some other horror. ❞ ❝ took you a while. did you run into trouble? ❞ ❝ i just travel a lot. and i don't always happen upon such good and civil company. ❞ ❝ what can you know about saving the world, silly? ❞ ❝ done my share of fighting. wouldn't carry a sword if i didn't know to use it. ❞ ❝ all right, perhaps i wasn’t completely honest. ❞ ❝ ever thought this day would come? me and you...peace and quiet...bees buzzing, birds chirping. ❞ ❝ i detect a shadow of impatience in your face. ❞ ❝ took me a long time to find you. wasn't an easy road to travel. ❞ ❝ wipe that frown off your face, or i might think you don’t like me anymore. ❞ ❝ always believed attack was the best defense. ❞ ❝ once it’s all over, if we survive ... i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me. ❞ ❝ naturally, you suspect me of the worst. i don’t deserve that. ❞ ❝ we can fight another time, in another place, where the walls have no ears. ❞ ❝ once i was free...i shall be free once more. ❞ ❝ believe me...a tavern, mulled wine, our boots drying by the fire --- i’d like nothing better. ❞ ❝ prove it. kiss me. ❞ ❝ the prophecies do not lie...you cannot survive this struggle. ❞ ❝ i know you better than you think. ❞ ❝ you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules. ❞ ❝ what’s happened? it’s so quiet, all of a sudden. ❞ ❝ thank you, for coming with me. ❞ ❝ i cannot do everything for you. use your head. ❞ ❝ i'm angry and tired. had to kill a lot of people along the way. ❞ ❝ we’ve come a long way, and i’d be damned if we’ve come to fail. ❞ ❝ i sense your pain. i see your fear. ❞ ❝ how’s this for an answer: kiss my ass. ❞ ❝ how many have you already killed? how many more might you still? ❞ ❝ i'm quite alive and extraordinarily well. better than i've ever been in this rotten life of mine. ❞ ❝ i like it when you smile. come here. everything will be all right. ❞ ❝ ugh. don’t fall in love with me. ❞ ❝ i don’t like you. in fact, i feel like slapping you. ❞ ❝ i'm too old to play the blushing bride...unless you ask nicely. ❞ ❝ that bit of my life --- forgotten it already. ❞ ❝ the world doesn’t need a hero. it needs a professional. ❞ ❝ next time you wonder why i’m so bitter...well, there's your answer. ❞ ❝ nothing wrong with having a drink in good company. ❞ ❝ i want you behind those rocks. and keep your mouth shut. ❞ ❝ nice of you to worry...but i've made my decision, and i won't change it. ❞ ❝ this is my story, not yours. you must let me finish telling it. ❞ ❝ after all that toil, i believe we deserve a bit of a rest. ❞ ❝ i was afraid you were dead. ❞ ❝ we’ve all some stain on our conscience. ❞ ❝ leaving the castle walls means certain death. ❞ ❝ right good jest. had us a laugh. now fuck off. ❞ ❝ i’ve heard about you. you bring trouble, or thus far have, always. ❞ ❝ ah, you’ve struck a raw nerve. memories of a time long past to which i’d rather not return now. ❞ ❝ we meet again. and it seems you need my help. again. ❞ ❝ got a relative i can talk to? someone - how do i say this - a smidgen less irritating? ❞ ❝ miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. hit it, you owe me twenty. ❞ ❝ oh. serious talk coming. ❞ ❝ i feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow. ❞ ❝ romantic? thought we came here as friends. ❞ ❝ you’re hiding something. and that’s one thing i can’t stand. ❞ ❝ tell me, how do you do it? always manage to pull yourself together, focus, no matter what’s happening? ❞ ❝ i go wherever i please, whenever i please. ❞ ❝ uh oh. i know that look. ❞ ❝ sounds tempting. so tempting i don’t think i can refuse. ❞ ❝ so, what do you say to a moonlight ride on horseback...and dinner? ❞ ❝ perhaps...perhaps you’d stay just a bit longer? ❞ ❝ how are you feeling? sleep well? ❞ ❝ such a gloomy subject to broach... simply shouldn’t have. ❞

❝ such a gloomy subject to broach...i simply shouldn’t have --- not during our romantic dinner. ❞ ❝ got it. a bit of blackmail --- just your style. ❞ ❝ it’s the crack of dawn. where do you wanna go? ❞ ❝ shut up before you wake someone. last thing we need is a crowd. ❞ ❝ watch what you say. the trees have ears. ❞ ❝ no bow at hand, no spear. my sword was all i had. ❞ ❝ never expected you’d take such an interest in my private life. ❞ ❝ i’m special. always was the rare beauty. ❞ ❝ damn. been ages since we last saw each other. ❞ ❝ some charming orchards nearby. in bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses. ❞ ❝ you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules. ❞ ❝ man spends his whole life learning. ❞ ❝ if only i was as skilled with my words as i am with my blade. ❞ ❝ i wished to know what was going on in that head of yours. i thought perhaps i could help. ❞ ❝ i can tell something’s bothering you. ❞ ❝ dangerous times. each thinks five times before sticking their neck out. and i can’t blame them. ❞ ❝ now i care not in the slightest how you think or feel. ❞ ❝ i no longer know if i still hate you. ❞ ❝ i see how you look at me, and i see you wither. ❞ ❝ one last bit of advice --- find a new tavern. everyone here knows you. ❞ ❝ you won. no point bothering with ‘what ifs’. ❞ ❝ it’s time i took fate into my own hands. lived life anew...and truly, this time. ❞ ❝ ahh, 'cause you thought you'd killed me that time. surprise, sur-fucking-prise. ❞ ❝ who...who’s that? gods, i’m hallucinating. ❞ ❝ it’s no exaggeration to say i’ve never met a warrior like you in my life. you’re lithe as an eel and strong as a bear. ❞ ❝ i’ve a heart again, yet all it feels is grief, sadness and defeat. my life is a ruin. ❞ ❝ sought only to protect myself. in doing so, i put you in harm’s way. forgive me. ❞ ❝ there’s a charming grove nearby where kisses taste sweeter than anywhere else in the world. ❞ ❝ you’ve handled tougher situations. you’ll figure this one out. ❞ ❝ who you are and why you’ve come matter little. for you’ll not leave this place alive. ❞ ❝ i’m not panicking. just trying to be realistic. ❞ ❝ hahahahaha...i can’t believe you fell for that! ❞ ❝ i was actually going to recite an anthem praising your glory, but if you’re not in the mood... ❞ ❝ lying didn’t always come so easily to you. ❞ ❝ everyone wants to rule. i can do that better than any monarch. ❞ ❝ tell me what you want already, and make it quick. ❞ ❝ what a mess we made of it all...if i’d only known then how it would end... ❞ ❝ seems a faded dream now, but there were a time where i was happy. ❞ ❝ why’d you leave me? you claimed you loved me. ❞ ❝ never liked boats. not one bit. ❞ ❝ you must be mad. i’ve no intention to make things easier for you. ❞ ❝ i don’t wish to look at your face any longer than i must. ❞ ❝ please, no. i can’t stand spells. ❞ ❝ we agreed not to keep any secrets from one another. we promised. ❞ ❝ that i like! a man who boldly dares, damn the risks! ❞ ❝ i thought you bowed before no man. ❞ ❝ smile a bit wider. ...you were meant to smile, not bare your teeth. ❞ ❝ is that blood? have you hurt yourself? ❞ ❝ no reason to trouble the guards. i’ll go willingly. ❞ ❝ look at me. promise you’ll stay out of it. ❞ ❝ the minute we’re in trouble, you make me responsible for getting us out. ❞ ❝ they say they don’t fear the wrath of the gods. and you, do you fear it? ❞ ❝ i’ll let that pass. i know grief eats at your heart. ❞ ❝ we all lie sometimes. but lying to yourself is running away, whereas there’s really nowhere to run. ❞ ❝ don’t need your sympathy, just your help. ❞ ❝ your loss -- it must hurt, bad. but there wasn't anything we could do. ❞ ❝ i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me. ❞ ❝ i trust you have an explanation for this. a very good one. ❞ ❝ lot of bitterness in you. ❞ ❝ i assure you, you’re excellent at covering your tracks --- though not terribly subtle. but i’m even better at uncovering them. ❞ ❝ glad to see you happy...but i don’t think what we did was right. ❞ ❝ i look at you, and...and feel like i am exactly where i am supposed to be. at long last. ❞ ❝ i’m no coward. i'll not run this time. ❞ ❝ yes, i know you’ve trained with swords. but you’re still shit with them. ❞ ❝ how many innocents have you cut down? ❞ ❝ problem is, you’re not ordinary. you were born to greatness. ❞ ❝ not too late to surrender. ❞ ❝ men turn honest when they feel a blade at their throat. ❞ ❝ i'm not gonna drink. why dull my senses when i’m in such pleasant company? ❞ ❝ it’s bound to come in handy, and each time it does, you’ll think of me. ❞ ❝ lie still or you will bleed to death. ❞ ❝ your life is yours, exclusively. you choose who you are. ❞ ❝ for a minute there, was almost sure you’d leave me to die. ❞ ❝ there is never a second opportunity to make a first impression. ❞ ❝ it’s all because of that secretiveness of yours. ❞ ❝ plead the gods spare us, for without their favor we shall most certainly perish. ❞ ❝ i must say -- seen a lot, but nothing like this, never. ❞ ❝ you don’t look like you can get home on your own. i’ll walk you. ❞ ❝ all’s in the past, never to be restored. ❞ ❝ you know full well i never hold a grudge. i forgive you. ❞ ❝ the good gods sent you to me. ❞ ❝ and the guilt, the responsibility of all this, lies with me. ❞ ❝ you’ve only been here five minutes, and you’ve already managed to offend me twice. ❞ ❝ you will certainly fetch me a higher bounty alive. ❞ ❝ what's wrong with my beard? always thought it added to my dignity. ❞ ❝ if i’m to die today, i wish to look smashing for the occasion. ❞ ❝ i was stupid. stupidity costs a lot. ❞ ❝ even your humblest requests seem like threats. ❞ ❝ your motives do not interest me. only results. ❞ ❝ and you laughed, oh, how sweetly, how brightly you laughed! ❞ ❝ you don’t know how it is. to see someone you love die. because of you, for you. ❞ ❝ to have a scapegoat --- that’s the key. ❞ ❝ no need to fear me. ❞ ❝ sorry, but -- your life story? just not interested. ❞ ❝ with you...it was love at first sight. ❞ ❝ gotta understand. you don’t betray people like me. ❞ ❝ i struggled long to find a place where i’d feel safe, needed. until i finally arrived here. ❞ ❝ just don’t faint on me. ❞ ❝ could never be there for you everyday. but i’m happy to see you always. and today, i’m all yours. ❞ ❝ what others think...your image...that’s all you care about. ❞ ❝ in these foul times one must be wary, even of their friends. ❞ ❝ come on, don’t get angry - it’s not good for you.. ❞ ❝ so, apart from the sword play, you know potions and all that? ❞ ❝ i actually envy your sense of wonder --- common in children, and morons. ❞ ❝ a lot of misfortune for a small village. ❞ ❝ who are you? do you seek to hurt me as well? ❞ ❝ the hand that feeds can also strike its wayward wards. ❞ ❝ shh. eat now. we’ll speak once you’ve rested. ❞ ❝ brother has turned against brother, the land is soaked in blood. evil reigns stronger than ever before. ❞ ❝ good looking and clever. where’ve you been hiding? ❞ ❝ doesn’t bother you, having monsters for neighbours? ❞ ❝ stay here --- no matter what happens. ❞ ❝ i never told you this, but i’ve always felt it: i love you. ❞ ❝ listen to me this once -- don't take matters into your own hands. ❞ ❝ love these moments. the air before a battle -- nothing smells as sweet. ❞ ❝ they tried to get in through the main gate. i’m afraid they could succeed next time. ❞ ❝ too many claim you’re evil. ❞ ❝ why are you so eager to help strangers? sit your ass down or there’ll be misfortune. ❞ ❝ you'd never have managed without me, would you? come, now, admit it. ❞ ❝ for those who remain, death should never take precedence over life. ❞ ❝ thanks for coming. thanks for risking your life for me. ❞ ❝ don’t force me to speak of it. no more, please. ❞ ❝ when doubt plagues your mind, follow your instincts. should they steer you wrong and land you in muck, you'll land at peace with yourself. and that's most important. ❞ ❝ just know that i know you're here. one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable...i'll be the first to learn it. ❞ ❝ i do not know you. i’ve done you no harm. ❞ ❝ try not to panic...just doesn’t suit you. ❞ ❝ we’ve come a long way, and i’ll be damned if we’ve come to fail. ❞ ❝ had i known what would happen here, i'd never have come. ❞ ❝ i can say i’ve seen it all now. ❞ ❝ these scars have long yearned for your tender caress. ❞ ❝ i don’t fall victim to curses. i cast them. ❞ ❝ come outside. we can hold hands and stare at the sky. ❞ ❝ we’ll work well together --- i can see that already. ❞ ❝ from the first moment i set eyes upon you that fateful evening, my heart has only beaten for you. ❞ ❝ i trust you as much as you trust me --- not at all. ❞ ❝ you’ve gone all red in the face just for talking about it. ❞ ❝ wake up. it’s just a dream. wake up! ❞ ❝ i still don’t believe everything that happened. ❞ ❝ i never miss twice. ❞ ❝ bit too old to believe in bedtime stories, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ you humans have...unusual tastes. ❞ ❝ didn’t think it worthwhile to tell me, warn me of your plans? ❞ ❝ i think you will not attack one unarmed. ❞ ❝ the deeper i get into this, the more i gotta wonder...why’re you even helping me? ❞ ❝ to live in peace, we first must kill. ❞ ❝ at times fate muddles our path, and life turns toilsome, hard to bear. ❞ ❝ i fight for whoever’s paying the best. or whoever’s easier to rob. ❞ ❝ do not let my beauty distract your aim. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen what is to come, i know destruction approaches. ❞ ❝ the war awoke an ancient power. an evil one that feeds on bloodshed. ❞ ❝ guess you’re no stranger to fury, either. ❞ ❝ think i’m gonna fall for that? no chance, you’re wrong. ❞ ❝ gotta admit --- you do pretty well with a sword. ❞ ❝ you dare tell me to calm down?! you?! ❞ ❝ let's say i go about my business, and when there's coin to be earned, i don't readily turn it down. ❞ ❝ i wish to know the truth...be it sweet, be it painful, i wish to know. ❞ ❝ men, the polite ones at least, would call me a monster. ❞ ❝ even i grow ill at the sight of you. ❞ ❝ i’m going on a walk. or is that not allowed either? because i could break my leg? ❞ ❝ plan’s crazier than it is sane...but there’s an irrestistible charm to it. ❞ ❝ unbelievable! you said something romantic! you! ❞ ❝ we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim. ❞ ❝ if anything should happen to you... ❞ ❝ there’s not been a dark cloud yet that didn’t have a silver lining. ❞ ❝ those are some fresh lookin’ scars you’ve got there. ❞ ❝ no. no more about the battle. just hold me. and say something nice. ❞ ❝ stay. this is the only home we’ve ever had. ❞ ❝ you’re so charming when you try to be funny. ❞ ❝ not proud of it...yet i considered all the options and found none better. ❞ ❝ i look far different from when you last saw me. ❞ ❝ i admire your optimism. wish i shared it. ❞ ❝ and...try not to draw any attention to yourself. ❞ ❝ nightmares haunt our nights and days. folk sleepwalk from their homes, never to return. ❞ ❝ forgive me. it couldn’t be avoided. i truly am sorry. ❞ ❝ well i’ve departed, escaped, been forced to flee so many times…yet i always returned. you ought to be used to it by now. ❞ ❝ the human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the sea. ❞ ❝ you think you’ve won. you are wrong. i can’t die. ❞ ❝ you’re something more. something more. ❞ ❝ barely nicked me, i’ll be fine. ❞ ❝ it’s just that i felt...stifled, in your shadow. i’d have suffocated had i stayed. ❞ ❝ come, don’t just stand there. i want a hug. ❞ ❝ it’s lovely here! i could stay forever. ❞ ❝ do what you will, but leave me out of this. ❞ ❝ we should end this discussion -- before i say something i'll regret. ❞ ❝ you all right? you’re as pale as death. ❞ ❝ let’s get back to the hut. i’ll protect you along the way. ❞ ❝ not to keen on talking about it, are you? ❞ ❝ it’s better to die than to live in the knowledge that you’ve done something that needs forgiveness. ❞ ❝ i was afraid you were dead. ❞ ❝ at times one must use reason, rather than blades. ❞ ❝ need some peace. gotta prepare. ❞ ❝ i suspected it might not be the best idea, but i was desperate, had no choice. ❞ ❝ so tell me how it happened. step by step. ❞ ❝ it was a bit of a lark, a jest. i meant to bring it all back, i swear. ❞ ❝ if i wanted to kill you, you'd be long dead by now. ❞ ❝ that is precisely one of the reasons why i abhor your world. your senseless brutality. ❞ ❝ i won’t let them take you, you know that? ❞ ❝ magic...childish hocus-pocus. it’s just not interesting. what i find fascinating are true tales of true human lives. ❞ ❝ save your praise for others. i couldn’t give a shit. ❞ ❝ well, well, i am impressed. doubted you still had it in you, frankly. ❞ ❝ i like you. don’t make me hurt you. ❞ ❝ you know very little can hurt you being immortal, so you take wild risks, chase extreme sensations. there comes a point you’ve done it all, and all seems boring and monotonous. ❞ ❝ with you i finally feel...harmony. a calm. feel like things are the way they're supposed to be. ❞ ❝ i'm afraid the dishwater’s as good as it gets in this establishment. ❞ ❝ sorry to take so long, but i had to deal with the guards. ❞ ❝ i’d never miss a chance to spend a pleasant evening with you. ❞ ❝ you know too much. yet one more reason why you must die. ❞ ❝ or perhaps you seek to trick me. ❞ ❝ if you acknowledge any gods...start praying, now. ❞ ❝ it’s very simple. you either deceived me...or not. ❞ ❝ i am known neither for my sense of humor nor for my patience. ❞ ❝ naturally, it would be easier with your help, but...you irritate me. ❞ ❝ love questions like that. am i holding up? what, my dick? ❞ ❝ we never hunt in these woods. not even if it means the whole village starves. ❞ ❝ we’re only ever the ones to know the truth about ourselves. ❞ ❝ you’re insolent because you believe i cannot afford to hurt you. and you’re right. ❞ ❝ i detest graveyards, especially wandering them alone. ❞ ❝ you know too much. you impede me too often. and i find your arrogance an annoyance. ❞ ❝ i know it’s wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right? ❞ ❝ i don’t know that i’ll make for engaging company. in truth, i rarely talk to men. ❞ ❝ you know...had a dream about you recently. ❞ ❝ i thought i could at least count on you to treat me seriously. ❞ ❝ don’t ask questions you know the answers to. it makes you look stupid. ❞ ❝ you’re nosy. starting to piss me off, you know? ❞ ❝ what did i do to deserve this? have i given you cause to doubt my intentions? ❞ ❝ don’t fret about me. i always get by somehow, right? ❞ ❝ i wanted to go with you --- that was my idea. ❞ ❝ i shan’t stray a step from your side. ❞ ❝ if that’s what it takes to save the world, it’s better to let that world die. ❞ ❝ what’s that supposed to mean? that a threat? ❞ ❝ i’m offering a great and true adventure, an experience like no other, the fate of only the chosen few. ❞ ❝ that’s like choosing between pestilence and the plague. ❞ ❝ what’s it matter? i only ever thought of you. ❞ ❝ did you know you’ve gained twenty-seven new scars since we’ve last saw each other? ❞ ❝ i need to know the details if you want me to get my hands dirty. ❞ ❝ don’t know you. go away. ❞ ❝ ever vigilant, even in your sleep. quite vampire-like, in fact. ❞ ❝ gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast. ❞ ❝ we share a cause, then. just like the old days. ❞ ❝ ever considered becoming a burglar? skill like that’d come in awful handy. ❞ ❝ there’s never been a frown that couldn’t be turned upside down. ❞ ❝ honesty's an attribute of the truly brave --- and thus the privilege of the very few. ❞ ❝ you do not have a monopoly in altruism, my friend. ❞ ❝ great love demands great sacrifices. ❞ ❝ i believe it wise at times to share one’s secrets, unburden oneself to those one can trust. ❞ ❝ it would be nice from time to time if you could sit back and enjoy life, instead of going around solving everyone’s problems. ❞ ❝ we shall dance until the break of dawn! ❞ ❝ a man could lose his head for a lass like you. ❞ ❝ don’t have to come if you don’t want. wait here. ❞ ❝ never seen this side of you. ❞ ❝ i’m to kiss the ground you walk on, is that it? but you just did your duty. ❞ ❝ the day you give me a smile...that moment, that’s what i’m waiting for. ❞ ❝ i need a soul intelligent and clever, an individual who fears no dare. someone like you. ❞ ❝ if i was you i’d catch some shut-eye, not go on flapping my tongue. ❞ ❝ the plan is simple...which does not mean it will be easy to execute. ❞ ❝ sometimes you really get on my nerves, you know. ❞ ❝ you shall not turn on me, use what i say against me? you shall not tell anyone? ❞ ❝ gave you a chance. should’ve taken it. ❞ ❝ always better to do a bit more and even gain nothing by it, than to do too little and face regret. ❞ ❝ it’s lovely out here. the birds singing, the bees buzzing...blissful, really. ❞ ❝ what a lovely dress. the color suits you exquisitely. ❞ ❝ pretty fantastic tale. hard as hell to believe. ❞ ❝ it’s time you discovered my romantic side. ❞ ❝ you gotta understand the whole world doesn’t revolve around you. ❞ ❝ can you not see i am out of my mind with worry? ❞ ❝ every rose has its thorn, and there are no happy endings. ❞ ❝ pretty quick to reject help. why is that? ❞ ❝ don’t need to like each other. just gotta do our jobs. ❞ ❝ frankly, if i can do something for you, i'll do it, willingly. ❞ ❝ you were hired you kill me, were you not? ❞ ❝ what’s it like, going toe to toe with a monster? knowing you’ve only two options --- to kill or be killed? ❞ ❝ this place --- there’s evil here. death hangs in the air. ❞ ❝ intellect counts as much as strength. ❞ ❝ i run back inside, hasp the doors, and then i hear it --- someone whispering my name. ❞ ❝ you know i like you. unlike the rest of this lot, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. ❞ ❝ if you love somebody, set them free. ❞ ❝ if you hate me so deeply, why don’t you tell me to my face? ❞ ❝ i’m afraid you’d not realize which way the wind was blowing if you pissed straight into it. ❞ ❝ that was courageous. i'd never expect it from you. ❞ ❝ i am not easily impressed, but i must admit you have succeeded, my dear. ❞ ❝ kill me if you must. i’ve nothing to live for anyway. ❞ ❝ aren’t you an extraordinary beauty. ❞ ❝ never suspected you believed such things. ❞ ❝ wait...you want to go with me? out of the question. ❞ ❝ used to it. not the first time i’ve been hunted. ❞ ❝ enough of this hesitation, this fretting, these feelings of guilt! ❞ ❝ strange working with you. strange, but great. ❞ ❝ give me a moment. i must don something more appropiate and concealing. ❞ ❝ killing comes as naturally to me as blowing my nose. ❞ ❝ ...... another tale of a life compromised and ultimately claimed by greed and ambition. ❞ ❝ in the future, though, remember this --- i can look after myself ❞ ❝ you'd really worry about me if i went on alone? ❞ ❝ you have many merits. you merely hide them from the world very diligently. ❞ ❝ is it true virtue always trumps villainy? ❞ ❝ watch my movements. i’m spry as a cat and sly as a fox. ❞ ❝ ah, if only this could last forever. ❞ ❝ few i can rely on like i can on you. kinda hoping you think the same of me. ❞ ❝ you are angry at the whole world. you feel inferior, feel pain, though you mask this with confidence, arrogance, even. ❞ ❝ there exist worries for which there quite simply is no other medicine. ❞ ❝ your bones look thin, your breathing’s wheezy. afraid one punch might kill you. ❞ ❝ to love is to build a house of cards, or play a game of chess, but one word or ill-thought move and you must start it all afresh. ❞ ❝ i’m doing what i ever wanted to do, being who i wanted to be. i believe that’s one definition of happiness. ❞ ❝ you’ve not an ounce of refinement in you, have you? ❞ ❝ pain rules the body, but fear is born in the heart. ❞ ❝ either i get burned, or i’ll burn all else down. no other options. ❞ ❝ should you decide your sword is the sole solution, i shall not stand in your way. ❞ ❝ c’mon, come closer. ❞ ❝ would you prefer i treated you like the lying manipulater you are? ❞ ❝ i regret nothing. one lives but once. ❞ ❝ i just hope this tale has a happy ending. for me, for you. for everyone. ❞ ❝ just gonna go our seperate ways? no parting words? ❞ ❝ you still stand to be quite useful to me. ❞ ❝ i suppose you wanted to frighten me...alas, you didn’t in the least. after all, i’m a monster too, am i not? ❞ ❝ i trust no one. learned that long ago. ❞ ❝ it cannot be! you actually have a sense of humor. ❞ ❝ didn’t ask for a lecture on probability. need a simple answer --- yes or no. ❞ ❝ another word, and i shall spill even more blood. yours. ❞ ❝ you feel resentment, i understand, but we shall work through all the unfortunate matters of the past. ❞ ❝ stop playing dumb. i know everything...your plan. ❞ ❝ honestly can’t see what all those dames see in you --- you’re a stick in the mud. ❞ ❝ not showy, lovely location...perfect for romantic getaways. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re not upset i came like this, without warning... ❞ ❝ i’m still a long way from mastering anything. but i am trying. ❞ ❝ now i know how you do it. just annoy your opponents to death. ❞ ❝ word on the street is there’s a hefty bounty on your head. ❞ ❝ for a few days now i’ve been having dizzy spells. ❞ ❝ i’ve always had a way with ostensibly dangerous types. ❞ ❝ wound doesn’t look good. patch that up quick if i were you, before it starts festering. ❞ ❝ always seemed to me you were a very complicated creature, by nature. not one to resort to such simple methods like drinking your worries away. ❞ ❝ may i be honest? yes, i’m nervous. i really would prefer to just run off. ❞ ❝ father always said a wise man learns from others’ mistakes, so here i am, learning from his. ❞ ❝ ever since that horrid night...everything has changed. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid? gut feeling queasy? ❞ ❝ used to bother me, all your secrets...now i know if you have something to tell me, you’ll tell me. ❞ ❝ i so don’t feel like going anywhere. sit here a while longer? ❞ ❝ there’s something i’d like to know...how can you be so damned calm? ❞ ❝ my knees quake like a carnival rattle. ❞ ❝ honestly didn’t think this’d work. doubted anything would happen. ❞

#roleplay starters #roleplay meme #long post for ts /

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kieraelieson · 3 years

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Logic Still Needs Comfort

A fic for @im-a-creepy-cookie as a part of @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I did your touch-starved Logan prompt!

Warnings: detailed sensory issues, joking mention of death

Logan disliked being touched.

It had been known for years. They all knew it. Surprise hugs or claps on the shoulder startled him unpleasantly and even made him upset sometimes. Touching his hand to get his attention made him jump and frown. He himself had compared the experience to having a bug or an animal suddenly landing on him.

And so Roman and Patton learned not to touch him aside from the occasional celebratory high-five. Which was fine. Everyone was fine, and happy.

And then came Virgil. And accepting anxiety as a valuable part of Thomas. Which changed things.

••^*^••

“Hey, um… L?”

Logan turned to see Virgil fidgeting but staring at him with an intent look. “Yes?”

“So, um, well you know I told you how Remus is practically a leech, and there wasn’t any getting away from it, but I’m not saying Patton isn’t great! But just Roman is… Roman, and just, but Patton really is great but I kinda don’t want to get turned into a teddy bear, and you’re all calm, and I’m, well, I’m sort of missing the calm and….” Virgil looked down and huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Oh, this is gonna come out awkward any way I say it. Can I sit next to you? I just wanna play on my phone and maybe stick my legs over your lap or something.”

Logan cocked his head to the side just slightly. “You wish to stick your legs over my lap while sitting next to me? That seems like it would involve terrible posture.”

Virgil gave a little breath of a laugh. “Any way I sit involves bad posture.”

“Actually, occasionally when you sit you replicate what is sometimes called the ‘primal squat’ which is reported to be excellent for your posture.”

Virgil gave him a lopsided grin. “Ok, you got me there. Maybe. But anyway, would you mind? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I’ll head back to my room.”

Logan considered it carefully. It was true that he did not enjoy touch. But this seemed as if it would be relatively calm, and would not require much, if any, reciprocation on his part. “I do not ‘mind’,” he said, utilizing Virgil’s turn of phrase.

He was currently standing, reading a book he had taken from the bookshelf he was standing in front of, and had not yet decided whether to stay with this book or choose another. He quickly pulled out the other two he’d been considering, and tucked all three books under his arm before seating himself on a couch.

It was a pleasant place, the memory library. Calm and quiet, with almost a heaviness to the air that Logan found enjoyable in a way. It was also rather dim, however, at least in this area, where the memories were older, and Logan found it necessary to summon a side table with a lamp on it so that he would have suitable light for reading.

He’d momentarily forgotten about Virgil until the couch cushion dipped beside him. Virgil pulled off his shoes and glanced at Logan.

“You really don’t mind? I mean, I know it’s kind of invasive to your space. You don’t have to say yes.”

Logan nodded. “I am not opposed.”

Virgil very tentatively put one foot up on Logan’s lap, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Logan felt again that sudden unpleasant ‘something touching me’ feeling, but it passed surprisingly quickly, and by the time Virgil had fully settled himself, laying on his back with his knees up over Logan’s lap and his feet on the other side of Logan, the feeling was gone entirely.

Logan propped his book against Virgil’s knees and began to read.

He was a little surprised, when Patton called for dinner, to find that they had been there for close to two hours, and that the unpleasant feeling had never returned. Instead he was feeling warm, and comfortable, more than he had in quite a while. He attributed this to the couch. And perhaps the warmth was a slight raising of Thomas’s core temperature, due to stress at having Anxiety so close to the old memories. Perhaps they ought to have sat down somewhere a little further away.

Regardless, he was about to comment, as they got up, at how pleasant the experience had been. Except that as soon as they both stood up, he found he was suddenly and extremely unpleasantly cold. This alarmed him, and he left without discussing anything with Virgil, concerned that the warmth and sudden cold was a sign of sickness, perhaps only his own but perhaps a symptom that Thomas was sick as well.

He went straight to the miniature control center he’d set up in one corner of his room, pulling up all of Thomas’s vital signs as well as a recording of where he’d gone that day. But everything was normal.

The cold seemed to be fading somewhat, though it was leaving a concerning ache behind. And it seemed to be concentrated on his thighs and forearms, of all places.

Logan looked through his list of sicknesses, sensible and nonsensical, that he had somehow contracted over his life, and found nothing similar. Still, this must be a sickness of some kind. Most likely a nonsensical one, as he hadn’t noted similar symptoms before. Perhaps he would discover some absurd idiom Thomas had latched onto that was causing him to experience physical repercussions. Something similar to ‘brain freeze’ perhaps.

A soft knock at his door caught Logan’s attention.

“Yes?”

“Logan?” Patton’s voice asked. “Are you alright? Virgil told me what happened. He didn’t realize how much you don’t like being touched, and I think he’d like to apologize, but he’s really worried that you’re upset with him.”

“What—“ Logan had left rather abruptly, and without expressing to Virgil that he’d enjoyed their encounter. It was very possible, with Virgil’s anxiety, that he had misinterpreted Logan’s abrupt departure. “Ah. I see.” He waved a hand to open his door. “I am not in the least upset at Virgil. There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, good.” Patton said, concern all over his face. “But you should probably tell Virgil that, and there’s some dinner saved for you yet.”

Logan nodded, the ache in his forearms and thighs rather distracting. “Thank you, Patton.” And then it hit him. If it really were an odd turn of phrase Thomas had attached to, Patton would certainly know it. “Have you happened to notice any interesting phrases recently?”

Patton frowned in confusion, indicating that Logan had changed the subject too rapidly for Patton to keep up. But then he grinned a little. “So today, I saw a baguette in a cage at the zoo!”

And then it was Logan’s turn to be confused for a moment, before he realized. “Ah, I didn’t mean a joke-“

“It was bread in captivity!” Patton smiled brightly, nearly laughing at his own joke.

“Yes, thank you, Patton,” Logan said, allowing the tiniest bit of an amused smile to show.

Even that slight encouragement made Patton beam. “Well, I told Roman that I would watch Disney with him tonight, so I’ll have to go, but don’t forget to talk with Virgil before you eat, and don’t forget to eat either!”

“I won’t forget,” Logan promised, a softer smile showing.

But as soon as Patton left he clapped a hand over his mouth. Why was he so… easily swayed? He prided himself on keeping a straight face, and yet now he’d smiled at Patton’s pun! What was wrong with him?

And now, with Patton leaving the room, it was as if the heat had been sapped. He was again very uncomfortable, aching and cold and he didn’t understand why. Was he perhaps experiencing some strange and extreme form of separation anxiety? It had set in both times as another side had left, though in different ways. But he didn’t feel anxious.

It was all incredibly strange.

But it seemed that Virgil was under a rather upsetting misconception. It could wait. He would speak with Virgil first and then look into this strange sickness further.

Logan crossed the hallway to knock on Virgil’s door.

The door opened almost immediately, Virgil looking as though he’d been waiting on someone to knock, and that Logan had not been the one he’d been expecting, based on the wide eyes and generally startled appearance.

“L, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known, I wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable—“

“Virgil, I assure you, I was perfectly comfortable. I would have expressed discomfort if I needed to.”

Virgil blinked, and the deep black of his eyeshadow faded somewhat. “You aren’t mad?”

“Not at all. I enjoyed the calm company you provided. I left abruptly upon discovering symptoms that indicate possible sickness.”

“Oh.” Virgil was silent a moment, gaze flickering away from Logan as he processed. “Wait, sick? Who’s sick?”

“I may be, though it is odd, and perhaps not a sickness at all.”

“Well, what is it? What’s going on? Are you ok? Is it contagious?”

“I do not know. I am experiencing a strange cold, and aching.”

Virgil’s eyebrows creased in concern. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Logan nodded seriously. “That is why I left, trying to discover what it could be.”

Virgil nodded in an encouraging, ‘go on’ kind of way.

“I haven’t found anything yet, but Patton informed me of the misunderstanding between us and reminded me to eat dinner. I intend to do more research afterwards.”

Virgil nodded. “I could rubber duck for you, if you want. Maybe I could help a bit.”

Logan stared, trying to remember what the phrase was meant to convey before revealing his confusion. He was certain he had it on a flash card somewhere, but he’d left them in his room.

Virgil rather obviously quashed an amused smile. “You tell me what happened, and then we see if we can figure it out together. Repeating the details can help you connect them better sometimes.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem useful. Thank you.”

Virgil gave him a lopsided grin, pulling up his hood and closing his door behind himself. “So when did you first notice the symptoms?”

Logan explained his symptoms and research to Virgil as they went downstairs and sat down at the table.

“And I still have very little of an idea of why,” Logan admitted. “I believe it possible that it’s another of those idioms that we sometimes experience physically.”

Virgil nodded very slowly. “I actually… might have an idea. I have an experiment I’d like to try, but if I explain it fully it’ll bias you and it probably won’t work.”

“Go ahead,” Logan said, opening the Tupperware container of spaghetti. “What is your experiment?”

Virgil reached one hand across the table. “While you’re eating, give me one hand.”

Logan considered, reaching out to hold Virgil’s hand. “Does this have something to do with checking pulse? You would be able to do that more easily with my wrist than my hand.”

Virgil shook his head. “Just eat, and when you’re done we’ll see how it goes.”

Logan frowned slightly. “Do you believe this has something to do with how recently I’ve eaten? Or that it could be influenced by the focus needed to do something with only one hand?”

Virgil chuckled. “I’ll explain once you’ve eaten.”

Logan was far too curious to wait patiently, and ate quickly, pushing away a not-quite empty container. “What is it?”

“Are you feeling warm again?”

Logan took a moment to assess, and realized that yes. He was feeling warmer. The ache as well was completely gone. “I am. Is it the food?”

Virgil offered a rather sad smile. “Alright, now let go of my hand and tell me what you feel then.”

Logan let go, and almost immediately the cold rushed back. He frowned. “But why? Why do I suddenly seem to have my physical temperature tied to the proximity of you and the other sides?”

His hand ached, and he held Virgil’s again, relieved, but utterly confused when the unpleasant feelings faded.

“I’ve had something like this,” Virgil said. “But not quite the same as yours, based on what Patton was saying. I think you’re probably touch starved.”

Logan considered this silently.

“But I don’t like being touched.”

Virgil gave his hand a slight squeeze. “You don’t seem to mind this.”

Logan nodded, very slowly. “You’re right. I… I don’t mind this at all.”

“I think we should talk to the others,” Virgil suggested.

Logan nodded slowly. “I suppose so.”

••^*^••

“You’re what?!” Patton practically wailed, throwing himself at Logan in a hug.

Immediately Logan felt like he wanted to crawl out his skin. This was miserable. In no way what he wanted. It didn’t feel right at all. It was like a whole hive of insects were buzzing just below his skin.

He pushed Patton off of him, more roughly than he would have intended. “Get off!”

Patton stopped immediately, staring in confusion and hurt.

Logan couldn’t handle it. He was freezing, and his skin was crawling, and his mind seemed filled with static. It was terrible. He just couldn’t.

He barely understood the words directed at him from the other sides as he sank out.

He locked his door and shuddered, hands repeatedly making and releasing fists. He shuddered again, trying to dislodge the crawling feeling. It didn’t leave.

He’d been right, he didn’t like touch. Not at all.

He got into the shower, running the water hot and scrubbing the disgusting feeling away. It helped warm him up as well, which felt way better. He bundled into his bed, pulling the weighted blanket that had been a gift from Virgil over himself.

A while later, finally calm and comfortable, he conjured a note to stick on the door.

I am not upset, but please leave me alone.

••^*^••

Logan spent the next several days figuratively buried in research. He investigated touch starvation as well as touch aversion, and a host of other possible clues to his situation.

He also gradually became more uncomfortable, holed up in his room.

He came to the conclusion that he did, in fact, have a kind of touch starvation, awakened to a roaring hunger by that pleasant afternoon sitting with Virgil.

But he also certainly had an aversion to being touched in certain ways. And he suspected, looking into it more, that surprise was a large factor, as well as the amount of him that was being touched, and perhaps the way in which he was touched.

He was basing this largely on his own reactions to Virgil’s method of touching, as compared to Patton’s or Roman’s, since he highly doubted that it was something inherent in them that he was averse to.

Finally his findings were all put together into one detailed, though as of yet hypothetical, presentation. Armed with this, and a determination not to touch anyone until he’d presented his findings, he opened the door to his room.

As he’d suspected, there was something attached to his door that made a noise as it was opened, and he was soon nearly mobbed with the other sides. They didn’t touch, or come too near, or say anything, but all came very quickly to stare at him, worry in every gaze.

He raised his folder. “I have a presentation. Please gather in the living room.”

It didn’t take long. Not at all.

Logan opened the folder and set it on top of the tv, so that the images could be seen.

“I believe Virgil was correct in suggesting that I have a degree of touch starvation.” He flipped through a few pages, supporting this statement with both facts and personal experiences.

He paused. This was the part that was likely to hurt feelings. Even he knew it, and he wasn’t usually adept at understanding feelings. But it was necessary.

“However, in satisfying this hunger, I will need to be ‘picky’. I have boundaries outlined in this section, and I need to keep them rigidly. This will mean that I will not be open to surprise touch, and likely not to hugs either. I would like to have support from each of you, support in accordance with what I’m capable of handling.”

“Absolutely, Logan,” Patton said. “I’d really like to be able to help you in the right way.”

Both Roman and Virgil nodded very solemnly and enthusiastically.

Logan smiled, more moved by this expression of support than he’d expected to be. “Thank you, Patton. And thank you two as well. I will be very much in need of your assistance.”

He cleared his throat, more in an attempt to gather himself together than any really obstruction. “I’ve laid out a number of methods of touch that I believe would be helpful to me, and arranged them by likelihood of success, and also divided by which I believe each of you would be more inclined to enjoy yourselves.”

••^*^••

Logan was seated on his bed, organizing and updating his flashcards, when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

“Hey,” Roman said, peeking in rather shyly. “Um, can we try one of those things now? I brought something to do.”

Logan considered, a slight curl of worry in his stomach. “Yes. I believe now would be a good time.”

Roman fully entered the room. “So I can sit behind you, and do my thing, and I won’t bother you while you do yours.”

Logan smiled slightly. “That sounds pleasant.”

Roman grinned, a bit of pride evident in his expression. He sat behind Logan on the bed, facing away from him, and leaned back slightly, so that they were each leaning against the other.

For about thirty seconds, Logan was uncomfortable, but gradually, warmth spread out through his body, and his mind was able to return its focus to his flashcards, and soon he found he was quite comfortable.

“Hey, specs, what do you call a little tiny shovel? Like the ones for kids. Or I guess not for kids, or not all the time.”

“That would be called a trowel, though perhaps a more recognizable, less correct term would be a spade.”

“Thanks!”

Logan could hear the smile in Roman’s voice, and smiled himself. This was genuinely pleasant.

Even after he had finished with his flashcards, Logan didn’t move. He just soaked in the wonderful warmth, answering whatever questions Roman had, and occasionally listening as Roman gushed about a particular sentence or paragraph he was especially proud of writing.

••^*^••

Logan walked beside Patton, enjoying the false nature of the imagination. He was familiar with much of the flora and fauna, even a decent portion of those entirely invented within Thomas’s mind. And Patton seemed to enjoy Logan’s rambling as much as Logan enjoyed the rambling.

A hand bumped gently against his, and Logan hesitated a moment, before linking his pinky finger with Patton’s.

Patton’s smile grew even brighter. “And you were saying the seeds of that tree are special? What kind of special are they?”

Logan smiled proudly, launching into an explanation. Patton swung their hands back and forth gently as they walked, and Logan felt something within him fill up. He felt pleasantly full, as if there was a cup inside him that had been long empty, and was now trickling over the rim, full enough to even spill.

••^*^••

Logan and Virgil laid out on the roof, looking up at the night sky. They were side by side, with Logan’s left leg tangled up with Virgil’s right.

It was calm. And warm. And peaceful.

In a reverse of the usual pattern, Virgil was the one telling the myth, this time of people who had lifted up the sky.

Logan felt himself drifting off, more comfortable than he could remember being in a very long time. He was figuratively floating on soft, warm clouds. Drifting into a summer night. He was safe, and content. Comfortable.

••^*^••

“Patton,” Logan said slowly.

“Hmm?”

“I would like to attempt a hug.”

Patton turned all his attention to Logan. “You sure?”

Logan nodded. “Yes. Just— slowly. And gently.”

Patton nodded solemnly, reaching his arms out.

Logan slowly leaned into the embrace, and Patton gently wrapped his arms around him.

And it wasn’t bad.

Logan hugged Patton, squeezing lightly before letting go. “Thank you.”

Patton’s eyes were all shimmery, and his smile wobbled. “You’re welcome, Logan!”

••^*^••

The door burst open dramatically and Roman ran in, flopping over the arm of the couch and letting out an even more dramatic groan. Then he peeked his eyes open, and moved to just as dramatically flop onto Logan’s lap.

“I fought dragons.” He announced, his voice a whisper as if he were inches away from death.

Logan, for once, was hit with a burst of mischievousness, and patted Roman’s face in an intentionally awkward way. “I will be sure to mention it at your funeral. I’m sure you’ve written an extensive ballad, and I’ll force Virgil to sing it in your honor.”

Roman had a sudden grin before resuming his ‘dying of exhaustion and probably wounds’ act. “Make sure you do,” he croaked out. “And have Patton put flowers in my casket.”

“Of course.”

Roman went limp, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

“Patton!” Logan called. “We’re going to have to put on a funeral.”

“A what?!”

••^*^••

Logan leaned against Virgil’s side, his empty cup of coffee set beside him, as the second movie began to wrap up.

“If they start another movie, you can lay in my lap and go to sleep,” Virgil offered quietly.

Logan, who despite the coffee was beginning to nod, hummed an affirmative.

He was woken up a good deal later by a lack of sound, and found that they’d just finished what might have been the third, but could’ve been the fourth or fifth movie of the night. He was laying on a pillow in Virgil’s lap, and his legs were up in Roman’s lap. And judging by Patton’s smile, pictures had been taken.

“We’re finishing up now,” Patton whispered. “And setting up to sleep out here. Do you want to stay in here or go to your own room?”

Logan yawned. “It will be far better for my posture to go to my own room… but if you were to turn on a sound machine… I would not be opposed to remaining here.”

Soon, something between white noise and rain lulled him back to sleep.

••^*^••

They all found a marked improvement, both in Logan’s mood and even in Thomas’s clarity of mind, as they continued experimenting with touch.

It was discovered that Roman, while not starved, was also touch-hungry, and was practically a giant dog in that he would accept any and all kinds of petting.

And as Logan regulated, he found he was even more ready to give touch than to receive it. Roman flopping onto him after ‘terrible and glorious battles’ became a regular occurrence, often ending with Roman falling asleep, Logan gently scritching at his scalp.

Walks with Patton became something they both greatly enjoyed and looked forward to. Sometimes they could only link pinkies, sometimes holding hands, sometimes even walking arm in arm.

And Virgil was always ready to do something of his own near Logan, a limb draped over him or pressed up against him.

Logan found himself repeatedly thinking back to that one afternoon in the memory library, incredibly grateful that Virgil had asked, and that he had said yes. He could see so much in his life that was better now.

And he was really, truly happy.

#sanders sides #my own work #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #platonic analogical #gift fic

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alltooreid · 3 years

Note

hi !!! first of congrats oh my gosh you deserve all of them and more :)

for the blurb celebration could you do a fluff for promot 30 with the reader having she/her pronouns? it could be like friends to lovers with like constant teasing banter and then theyre like oops i accidentally fell in live with you, ya dork? or whatever you want!

thank you so so much, you’re so sweet!! and i love this request omg!!

Prompt: #30: “i'm sick and tired of your attitude”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Content Warnings: None! (I think, please let me know if I’m missing something!)

***

“There’s my favorite loser!” Y/N said, ruffling her best friend Spencer Reid's hair as she walked past his desk. “So, what are you doing tonight babe?”

When Y/N started at the BAU, Spencer remembered being overwhelmed and nervous whenever she called him babe, until she called Morgan babe for getting her coffee and Garcia babe when she met her for the first time. What really confirmed for him that Y/N would call anything and everything babe is when she told Hotch “Good morning babe,” on pure accident because she was so used to using it in everyday conversation.

Now Y/N was his best friend, and he found her calling him babe kind of annoying and comical, instead of romantic and flirtatious. However, he couldn’t help but blush when she would ruffle or play with his hair. But Spencer had convinced himself that was a completely natural response, that it meant nothing, and that he definitely had no feelings for Y/N.

“Nothing, really. I’ll probably just stay home,” Spencer said. “I just bought a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice that is practically begging to be read.”

She rolled her eyes over-dramatically, Spencer laughed, knowing she didn’t actually mean it and was just trying to mess with him. “Or you could do something way better. Instead of reading an incredibly boring book written in old English, you could come to my apartment and we could watch the movie! It’s really good, I promise even you’ll love it.”

Spencer smirked, “I don’t know, movie night sounds fun and all. . . Maybe I’ll see if Emily wants to watch it with me.”

She laughed, “Oh so now you’re too good for me huh?”

“Maybe I'm just sick and tired of your attitude Y/N,” he said while smiling, they both knew that wasn’t true at all. Spencer found it comforting that Y/N was just as humorous with him as she was with everyone else, sometimes even more so. He often felt that because he was awkward around his coworkers and didn’t always get their sarcasm or jokes that he wasn’t included in the more silly, mundane “water cooler talk.”

Sometimes when he would try to include himself, he would begin to ramble, and by the time he was done most of his friends had walked away. Even more times they would just interrupt him so that he would stop talking. Yet whenever he would attempt to make himself more conversational, everyone seemed to think it was stupid and a useless endeavor.

But with Y/N, Spencer knew she was willing to take the time to make jokes with him and listen to his interests. So when Y/N made fun of him, he knew that it wasn’t out of malice. He felt comfortable exchanging banter with her; he was never scared of annoying her or messing something up.

“I don’t know how much I believe that Reid. . . but if you insist I guess I’ll just have to see if Penelope would like this chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles…. What a shame.”

“Wait! Y/N I still definitely want that.”

“Well I’m sure Penelope does as well, and she likes my attitude,” she said, giggling as she walked away.

Not too long after however, Y/N was back, and surprised Spencer by hugging him from behind and nuzzling her head on his shoulder. “Just kidding dork, I would never do that to you,” she dropped the donut onto his desk, “but! I would consider it if you don’t come watch Pride and Prejudice with me tonight.”

He laughed “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be there.”

“Yes! I knew it! Pride and Prejudice is on! 7 pm, my apartment, and you better bring snacks.”

She squeezed him again, and then went back to her desk, spinning around a couple of times in her chair and smiling.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as well, both at the sight in front of him and his newest realization, one that he had buried deep inside himself ever since Y/N started at the BAU.

He was in love with his best friend.

***

“Spencer! You’re finally here! Did you bring snacks?” Y/N said, practically jumping off her couch as Spencer let himself inside; she had a terrible habit of always leaving her door unlocked when she was home.

“What do you mean finally?” he asked, “I’m ten minutes early?”

“Yeah but I’m starving and I really wanna watch this movie,” she radiated excitement, “Now come sit down and cuddle with me.”

This was one of those things that should have made Spencer realize just how much he loved Y/N. Platonic cuddling was not something Spencer was used to, but when it came to Y/N he looked forward to it. Yet now the realization that it was only platonic on one end made Spencer feel awkward.

“You seem tense babe. What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.

“It’s nothing,” he lied.

“Don’t play that game with me Spencer, you’re my best friend. I love you, I know you better than I know myself, you can tell me anything.”

He sighed, “That’s the problem Y/N, you love me, but I realized today that I don’t just love you, I’m in love with you.”

Y/N’s mouth was wide open, and for a second when he looked at her Spencer thought he had ruined everything.

That was until she fit her mouth to his.

“I realized a week ago, it hit me like a truck. When I went to your apartment after the Oregon case, and you read me to sleep because it had affected me so much. I just remember lying there, eyes half shut, and thinking ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with this man, I want to come home to this every single night’ and that’s when I realized I was in love with you.”

“That’s a cuter story than mine, I realized this morning. Something in me finally said that there was no way best friends felt the way I feel around you.”

Y/N pushed his hair off his forehead and planted a kiss there, “Look at us dork,” she said with her lips still brushing the top of his head, “We accidentally fell in love with each other.”

Spencer smiled and then laughed, “Yeah, I guess we did.”

***

taglist!!: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @spenxerslut @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @laurnrnlds @samuel-de-champagne-problems

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

please reblog and let me know what you think!! :))

or send me direct feedback here!

thank you again for this request! if anyone else would like to send request for my 300 celebration please refer to these guidelines!!

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highfaelucien · 3 years

Note

Hmmm maybe lucien and elain playing with nyx and elain marveling at how good lucien is with children...

@bow-dawn also requested "give us elain watching lucien playing with nyx and that warms her heart enough to have a talk about their mating bond 😭" Everybody wants Lucien with babies because they know he's baby catnip. And I have no idea how children work but an attempt is gonna be made!!!!

send me ship prompts! platonic or otherwise!

Elain's arms were starting to get sore. Even with her being fae now. Arms that had stabbed the King of Hybern were somehow unequal to holding one small Ilyrian baby.

He was a very important baby, to be sure. Since he was her nephew. And the son of the two most powerful people in Prythian's history. Or so everyone kept saying.

Maybe he knew that. He was certainly doing everything in his power to make sure the whole of the Night Court, maybe the whole of Prythian, was aware of him right now, with the racket he was making.

They weren't sure which powers of his parents' the babe would inherit yet, he was too young. But he had an incredibly potent pair of lungs, of that she was sure of.

She'd been holding him for what felt like decades, bouncing him in her arms and trying to soothe him. He had managed to wear through her considerable patience, and she was now bordering on the edge of desperation.

This was her first time babysitting by herself. Feyre and Rhys had trusted her with their son, and she couldn't get him to stop crying! She was a terrible aunt. What kind of mother would she be? Unable to comfort her flesh and blood.

That thought made her stomach plummet. Had she lived out that other life, the one she sometimes saw reflected mockingly back at her in mirrors and pools, and married Greysen...She'd likely already be a mother. Would probably have at least one baby of her own.

She pushed that thought away before she joined Nyx in his crying.

"Cauldron boil me, Feyre!" A voice called from the stairs leading up to the roof where she'd taken Nyx hoping some fresh air might calm him. "What in the name of the Mother are you doing to that hellspawn child to make him scream that way?"

The voice was familiar, but unexpected. But she barely had a moment to process that before the door banged open and she found herself staring at Lucien.

"Oh," they said simultaneously.

Then Lucien, his cheeks changing colour to match his hair, said, looking abashed, "Lady Elain, please forgive me. I, I expected to find Feyre up here."

"I can tell," Elain said, giving him a little smile, "By the way you were shouting her name."

"Yes, well," Lucien muttered, looking rather flustered.

She found she quite liked that look on him. She always tended to see him as the polished, silver-tongued courtier, always composed and prepared to handle anything.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be up here. I would not have spoken to you that way if I'd known you weren't Feyre," he said, with a bow.

"Why not?" Elain said, cocking her head to one side, "I'm not some delicate flower that can't handle hearing curse words, you know," she told him, almost defiantly, "Amren has taught me many new ones. Cassian showed me how to do it in Illyrian. Rhys can be quite inventive when he's grumpy. And when all that fails, I can always just fall back on the word fuck."

He blinked at her, then grinned broadly, "Shockingly, I don't make a habit of cursing at people that I don't know all that well. Feyre and I are good friends, so she has earned my fragrant cursing at her."

"She's also High Lady of the Night Court," Elain said, raising her eyebrows, "With more power than anyone in Prythian's history has held in a long time."

Lucien waved an idle hand, "I knew her before she became all Made and Rhysandish," he told her, "Once you've seen someone puke faerie wine into a fountain of the mother at the Solstice it's hard to see them as too grand to curse at anymore."

Elain giggled at that, then winced, as that apparently seemed to upset Nyx even more.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at them, "Cursing aside," he said, leaning idly against the wall, "My question about that one still stands - what by the Cauldron have you done to him?"

"Lots of things!" Elain said, her voice snapping a little bit, "I've fed him, and I've changed him, and burped him. I've tried to put him down for a nap. I've tried to rock him, and bounce him, as swoosh him side to side. I've talked to him, and I've sung to him, and I've begged him and he still. Won't. Stop. Crying!"

Lucien smiled slightly, which made her want to smack him, because this was absolutely not funny, and she felt tears of frustration starting in her eyes.

"Feyre and Rhys trusted me to look after him on my own and I can't get him to stop crying! I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she confessed hopelessly.

"May I hold him for a moment?" Lucien asked.

Elain hesitated a moment. But Feyre had let him hold her son before. She had seen tears in his eyes when he'd done so, and it had bridged some connection between them that had never fully healed since the war. She didn't think her sister would protest, as long as she was still here.

And she was so tired. Her arms were so sore, and Nyx was becoming a very heavy and dense weight in her arms. So she nodded gratefully, eagerly pushing the little bundle into Lucien's arms.

Lucien held him with a surprising ease, as if he'd done this thousands of times before. A broad, genuine smile spread across his face as he peered down at him, bouncing him slightly in his arms.

Nyx peered up at him. Elain expected this to trigger an increase in the volume of his howling, but, incredibly, he quieted almost at once, seemingly entranced by Lucien's face, his glinting metal eye.

"There we are," Lucien said, smiling, but raised a finger as Nyx started grumbling again, "Now, now, we won't be having any of that," he told him calmly, "Ah, you have wings, don't you? Let's see then..."

Lucien carried him over to the table, unwrapped his blankets. Before Elain could protest about the cold, he rewrapped him, but gently extended his wings first, and curled them around his little body, securing them in place around him with his blankets.

"You know about babies with wings?" Elain asked, bemused.

Lucien nodded, "Certainly," he said, then seemed to consider, "Not Illyrians, and not Rhys-spawn," Elain giggled against her will, "But I'm hoping the principles are the same."

He scooped him up and bounced him. Nyx actually giggled at him, the little monster.

"How did you do that!?" she demanded, peering down at the baby, who was now lifting his chubby little hands and grabbing, as if trying to catch the glinting eye above him.

Lucien smirked, "I have a known gift," he said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. Elain would have whacked him for that, if he hadn't been holding her baby nephew.

"You, you've been around a lot of babies?" she asked.

Nothing in his history, though admittedly she knew little of it, had implied that babysitting had been a big part of it.

"Oh yes," he said, very seriously, "Fae with troublesome younglings came to me from all over Prythian, every court, lesser and high alike so that I could use my gifts and soothe them."

Elain put her hands on her hips and growled at him, "Don't you bullshit me Lucien," she said, as sternly as she could, poking a finger into his chest.

He snickered, still grinning at her, shifting Nyx slightly in his arms as he started to fuss again, "I have a very big family," he said, shrugging.

"I thought you were the youngest of your brothers," she said, frowning.

Lucien nodded, "True," he confirmed, "But I have lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, and friends," he added, with a flicker of some emotion she couldn't quite read. He took a breath and added, "Regardless, they all felt that, as the Lord's seventh son, I didn't have anything better to do with my time than babysit all of their offspring. I've had a reasonable amount of practice."

"Well you saved me today," Elain said, collapsing into the seat that Rhys always liked to sit and brood in, overlooking the Sidra, "I don't know what I did wrong," she muttered, bracing her chin in her hands and sighing dejectedly.

Lucien cautiously approached, Nyx still cradled in his arms, and sat in the seat next to her, also glancing out over the city. "If it helps," he said, "You did everything right. Sometimes babes are just tricksy little bastards," he said with a shrug,

She frowned, trying to determine if he was patronising her.

"They like to be dramatic and seek for attention," Lucien told her calmly, "Especially when they have Rhysand, Night Discomfort, Death Irritate, the most dramatic bastard to ever spread drama, as their father" he added in a lofty voice that acutally sounded uncannily like Rhys.

Elain stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop herself snorting as she laughed.

"He is very dramatic," she agreed, tickling Nyx's tummy.

Lucien smiled down fondly at the babe, and for all his comments about him being dramatic, there was a tenderness in his face she had never seen before from him.

It made him look younger. His face was still scarred and strange, with that mechanical eye, but there was a gentleness in him she hadn't seen from most fae in her time in Prythian, it made her feel safe and calm.

Nyx started fussing a little again, and Lucien hushed him, and fluttered his fingers in the air above him. Little lights appeared above him, circling like a mobile and flashing different colours.

Elain let out a little gasp of delight watching him, which was echoed by Nyx.

Lucien glanced up at her, a wry smile on his lips as he said, "My magic isn't particularly powerful or impressive, but it's very good for entertaining infants."

"I think it's beautiful," Elain said, quiet, but sincere.

Lucien smiled.

Then he turned his head back to Nyx, tickling him with his free hand while the lights continued to circle, swooping down and booping the child on the nose, causing him to giggle.

Elain felt a sudden pulse of warmth and joy blossom in her chest like a swelling rose, and she let out a little, "Oh!"

Lucien glanced up at her, startled, "Are you alright?"

She put a hand to her chest, without breaking eye contact with him, "I, I fel you," she said quietly.

"I apologise," he said, looking truly sorrowful, "I usually keep better control of myself, but being around you makes that more difficult."

The little river of his joy faded away as he closed off the bond on his end.

"No!" she cried, with a desperation she couldn't quite explain, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm, "No," she repeated, more quietly, "Please don't, don't close down on me."

He raised his eyes, and held her gaze, unwavering, unfaltering. She felt that river again, the joy at holding the babe still there, but also excitement, anxiety, and almost unbearable anticipation. Though she had the sense he was trying to keep her from the worst of it.

"It's good," she whispered, "It feels good. I've, I've had dreams of you," she told him, "So much pain. So much guilt, and sadness, and hopeless need."

He ducked his head, turning away from her, seeming ashamed, "I'm sorry that you-"

"No," she said, quiet but firm, cupping his face in her hand, tracing his scar with her thumb, "No. You don't apologise to me for the things that others have done to you. You never do that," she said, with a fierceness that surprised even her.

"I shouldn't have let that touch you," he said quietly, "I, I don't want anyone to feel that, least of all you."

Elain held his gaze and, for the first time, she tentatively tapped at that string inside her, on her bottom rib, that one that extended beyond her in a way even her newfound Sight did not.

Through it, carefully, she pushed all of the depression, all of the pain, and all of the grief, and hopelessness, and even the darkness that had almost claimed her, caused her to step into it and never return.

He started, and his eyes filled with a thin veil of tears. But not because of the emotions she shared, but the fact that they were twin to his own. The fact that, as he looked into her eyes, he knew that she had felt what he had felt.

"We are the light for so many," she said quietly, "The sun that they grow towards, the thing they reach for in their own darkness, when they need hope, and someone who will always find a smile for them."

Lucien nodded, and picked up that thread she'd left dangling for him, causing one of his orbs to circle close to Nyx. The baby tried to catch it, giggling, and Elain saw that, but also the shadow it cast on his soft skin.

"But where there is light, there is shadow," he murmured, eyes not leaving hers, "That is the quiet burden we bear to be their light."

Elain nodded, and together they looked back down at Nyx, and let the warmth and joy at him flow, tentatively, between their bond.

***

thank you!! I hope you enjoyed!!!

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #Nyx archeron #acofs #acotar series #acotar fic #elucien fic #my fic #mine #answer post tag #fic prompt fill #taryn fills prompts #IM DOING IT OKAY IM DOING IT #IM MAKING MY WAY #THERE'S JUST A LOT #AND I CANT STFU #long post

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