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witchsickness · 2 years

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in a field, he finds him.

sprawled atop the hood of his battered, flame-licked escape car that used to mean escape in but ended up meaning escape out of. arms his pillow, the sky his star-strewn blanket. steve’s been inside his room. as far as sleeping arrangements go, anything would be an improvement.

he unmounts the bike—dustin’s, borrowed unasked so the kid wouldn’t have any means of late-night monster-themed excursions—and lets it drop to the rain-damp ground with a muffled thud. the only warning hargrove’s entitled to, after the vanishing act steve’s just ruined. he makes sure steve knows the warning was redundant, the fucker, stretching on the metal to mask the scooting-over-to-the left, blinking, after his spine’s done breaking, at the empty space next to him, like, how did that get here?

steve, who would very much like to tell him, chokes on nothing when hargrove goes on to blink at him, and the whole world scratches to a halt. ‘been looking all over for you.’

hargrove hums, low and rumbling, a motor coming alive. something coming alive, anyway. to the sky, ‘impossible to get lost in this place,’ he says, which falls in line to what steve’s come to recognize as his childhood-nurtured evasiveness, and then smiles sardonically. ‘who was askin’?’

but for his fingers, the erratic beat they’re drumming on the hood, he’s the picture of nonchalance. the poster boy of making a mockery out of death. that’s his tell, though, the crack in his mask of stillness. steve’s getting better at seeing it for what it is now, and seeing it for what it was before, even, back when a father was still in the picture.

he climbs on the hood of a car that’s somehow still a friend to him, even after the attempted murder. ‘max sent me looking. said you’d been off all day.’

‘fuck’s that mean?’

steve smushes his cheek against skin-warm metal so that his eyes, at least, can trace the outline of hargrove’s face, the slopes and slides of him. the spatter of freckles he can’t see, but are there all the same. ‘you drove your car in the middle of a field,’ he points out, ‘someone’s bound to have a fit about that.’

‘oh, learn how to have fun, will ya? the hicks’ll see the lines and think it’s aliens. it’ll make the front page.’

he sounds wispy, the way people trying to hide a smile do. something short of a year ago, billy hargrove landed a punch that had steve weeping blood out of his nostrils like breathing was going out of style. back then, it was easier to trace breathlessness back to a fist in the face, a basketball foul that had him getting acquainted with the parquet and the wind knocked out of him. now, he traces his philtrum and comes up bloodless, and thinks, oh, must be his smile this time.

so steve—well, he fixes his eyes to the trees instead, where nothing’s dangerous and nothing’s eating his heart, one smile at a time. ‘what’s up with you today, anyway?’

next to him, hargrove rubs his thighs, like he always does when conjuring up a lie. steve’s dying to make some genie-related joke about it, but that would mean giving away his card. ‘fucking unbelievable,’ he whines, eventually, ‘nothing’s up, for fuck’s sake. can’t a guy look at the sky without getting the hounds called on him?’

he sounds honest enough. content, too, but in a wafer-thin, unnerving, there’s-more-to-it way, that willows out into a huff at steve’s unconvinced silence. ‘jesus, it’s just a nice day, alright?’

night, steve thinks, with the air of someone obligated to needle, two hours to halloween. ‘the spirit of the season’s getting to you, is that it? all the mom-chaperones knocking on your door to dig into your pockets for candy?’

they brave the small earthquake of hargrove’s shiver together, at that, he gritting out, ‘don’t give a fuck about halloween,’ meaning something entirely different, without ever rubbing his thighs. mark that one as a truth, and they’re now at a tie.

‘what’s so special about today, then?’

‘have you heard the one about the cat getting killed?’

steve ignores the joke, and that’s about as far as his ignoring powers extend, where hargrove’s concerned. ‘so. not about halloween. i’m guessing it’s not about the day, either? since wednesdays are a weekly event. which makes it about the date, then. the 30th.’

hargrove huffs, and puffs, and mumbles, ‘fuck right off, harrington,’ accepting steve’s nail-on-the-head triumph. ‘maybe it’s my birthday or some shit.’

the night’s there to take advantage of, so steve hides a smile in it. ‘your birthday’s in march.’

‘why the fuck do you know that?’

steve pokes him in the ribs, in an obligatory, pal-innocent way. to make sure he’s still there, too. ‘well, funny thing about dying, you get a headstone thrown in the deal.’

‘oh,’ hargrove breathes, ‘right. i keep forgetting.’

it’s too distracting, almost, laughing under the stars. almost.

‘what is, then?’ steve asks, dog-in-bone stubborn. ‘that makes the 30th so special.’

for a beat, a heartbeat, a few heartbeats he can spare, hargrove’s silent. then, ‘do you remember—a year ago,’ he says, around the hangnail he’s gnawing at, ‘first day of school.’

a year ago, in this town, meaning a lifetime and a couple of dodged deaths ago, but steve—boy, does he remember. an unanswered i love you, followed by a blast of noise, here i am, rock you, that. yes, now, a year and a lifetime and a few dodged deaths later, he can see how it might’ve been an answer of its own.

‘first time i saw you,’ hargrove says. ‘october 30th.’

he’s holding himself death-still and breath-drained, and steve thinks, no more of that, and says, ‘you know what i love about halloween?’

‘you’re telling me anyway, aren’t you?’

‘i’m telling you anyway,’ steve informs him, spider-walking his fingers until they’re woven with hargrove’s. it takes a bit of muscle-twisting manoeuvring, like that, but he manages to lift himself, on his elbow, over hargrove’s face, so that he can see it when he scrunches up his nose, tickled by steve’s hair. so that he can laugh about it. ‘anything can happen.’

hargrove—smells like candy corn, like maybe that’s his favorite thing about halloween, too. anything can happen. he parts his lips like someone planning to speak, which isn’t something steve is interested in, at this particular moment.

when steve kisses him, he tastes like candy corn, too.

#harringrove #harringroveweek #steve harrington #billy hargrove #my stuff #billy one-sidedly celebrating their anniversary while steve is trying to get over a requited crush is so funny to me #like years later someone will ask when they got together and let me tell you. someone (steve) is sleeping on the couch that night

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teenageread · 2 years

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Review: Layla

Synopsis:

When Leeds meets Layla, he’s convinced he’ll spend the rest of his life with her—until an unexpected attack leaves Layla fighting for her life. After weeks in the hospital, Layla recovers physically, but the emotional and mental scarring has altered the woman Leeds fell in love with. In order to put their relationship back on track, Leeds whisks Layla away to the bed-and-breakfast where they first met. Once they arrive, Layla’s behavior takes a bizarre turn. And that’s just one of many inexplicable occurrences.

Feeling distant from Layla, Leeds soon finds solace in Willow—another guest of the B&B with whom he forms a connection through their shared concerns. As his curiosity for Willow grows, his decision to help her find answers puts him in direct conflict with Layla’s well-being. Leeds soon realizes he has to make a choice because he can’t help both of them. But if he makes the wrong choice, it could be detrimental for all of them.

Plot:

Leeds wants to be a musician, but currently hates his life of playing bass guitar for this awful wedding band. He was dying inside at this bed-and-breakfast wedding when one of the bridesmaids started dancing to their music. This dancing was horrific, and Leeds could not take his eyes off of her the entire set. Meeting up by the pool, the horrible dancer was Layla, sister to the bride, and the love of Leeds’s life. Staying at the B&B 3 extra days after the wedding, he convinces Layla to visit him in Nashville instead of her heading back to her parents in Chicago. For 8 months Layla and Leeds lived in harmony, that was until Sable entered their lives. Nicknamed Unstable Sable, she was Leeds’s ex-girlfriend who was obsessed with him. When Sable got wind of Layla and Leed, she went nuts and tried to kill Layla. Surviving, but barely, Layla has PTSD, anxiety, depression, and more; completely changing her from the girl Leeds fell in love with. Desperate to get her back, Leeds takes her on a vacation back to the B&B they fell in love at. Yet something is strange, now on the market for sale, the B&B has a haunting element to it. As the spirit in the walls tries to talk to Leeds, Leeds learns more about this world than he ever wanted and finds a deadly way to bring his Layla back to before the incident.

Thoughts:

Colleen Hoover tries their hand at adding a little spook in their normal romance writing. Taking only from the perspective of Leeds, we watch him fall in love, and then out of love with Layla. See the Layla he loved from the B&B and those fast-forwarded eight months in Nashville died the night Sable tried to kill her. Thus Layla is currently not the fun-loving girl Leeds originally met. This Layla is moody, social media obsessed, eating little, and sleeping lots. I really wish Hoover gave us more time with the old Layla so we could understand how different Layla was acting. For items like Layla eats a lot less now, was not as big of a trigger Hoover wanted it to be, because she did not express how early on Layla did not care what she ate. Still, Layla is a sympathetic character, one Hoover makes you feel bad for throughout the novel. Leeds is a decent guy, honestly a standard male with no incredibly redeeming qualities, although he did take a downturn near the end where he exploits Layla to the ghost. Yes, I told you Hoover got spooky and in the themes of paranormal, we have a ghost or spirit in the B&B. I loved this element, as it became the main plot driver and introduced us to a third character to focus on. Hoover worked hard to build a connection between Leeds and the ghost and added to the paranormal element by making the ghost confused as to how they became a ghost and ended up at the B&B. With a shocking climax, Hoover works hard to make it spooky, and dramatic, and leave you on the edge of your seat. Some parts were iffy, like the majority of the B&B days could have been cut out, and Leeds's relationship with Layla could have been filled out more, similar to how Hoover worked hard to build Leeds and the ghost connection. Yet this is the spooky season, and I am proud of Hoover for getting out of their comfort zone, and honestly, even without the Hoover name attached to the novel, it is still a decent story with a shocking ending that leaves you questioning the entire story.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

#Layla #Colleen Hoover #book review

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xjoonchildx · 3 years

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snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope smut #jhope x reader #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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vrisrezis · 2 years

Note

Hi! 😃 Can I request a fluffy headcanon about Eda, Luz, King, Hooty, Amity, Willow and Gus try and get Hunter (TOH) and shy!female!human! reader together? 💕 Like they've been dancing around each other for a while and Eda, Luz, King, Hooty, Amity, Willow & Gus are fed up with the obvious pining and plan out a mission to get them together? 😂 I live for flustered Hunter! 💘 Please?? ~🌻

This is adorable ‼️ after the new ep I am just .. in love with Willow and hunter friendship

Eda is dying on the inside, this is like Luz and amity all over again. King and Hooty, are in agreement. Their approach, is very obvious. Hooty would totally be the type to get you two locked in a closet, Eda and King probably would push you two into eachother on purpose, and put you in embarrassing situations.

Luz would likely tag along with their plans, and realize maybe she needed more help. And who better than some friends on the inside, like Willow and Gus! They both see it first hand, much more often. Even Amity sees it, and she can’t help but find it cute. Annoying, but cute! The four kids often get you two alone together, even sending you fake love letters to make Hunter jealous, to make him confess. Then they tried doing it with him, making you jealous. To make you confess. Didn’t work either. Even Lilith hears about the gossip, but she finds it rather amusing.

I can imagine Skara and Viney being dragged in and actually telling him that he needs to say something lol, cause it’s driving them crazy.

#toh x reader #the owl house x reader #hunter x reader #toh hunter x reader #the owl house hunter x reader

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collecting-stories · 3 years

Text

Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #collecting stories imagine #you are ok series

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Fine Furry Friends

Summary: How the Reid family grew by a few paws. (This is a stand-alone one-shot of my completed ‘Rebuilding Family’ series)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: pure fluff, brief mention of pet death (doesn’t actually happen)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: i imagine season 15 spencer but this is the only gif with him and an animal

Masterlist

Spencer was doing dishes when he heard you pull into the driveway. He looked up to see you rushing so much that you almost hit the trash can with your car.

You practically leapt out of the car, grabbing your purse but managing to spill the contents all over the driveway. After a few futile moments of trying to collect the things, you gave up, running inside with only your phone.

“Spencer!” you yelled.

“In here, love,” he called back, wiping his hands on the dish towel.

He heard the quick clicking of your heels as you sped walk into the kitchen. You were on the verge of tears as you unlocked your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked.

You silently showed him a picture of an old black cat with gray streaks of hair as your lip quivered.

“I know I used to ‘mind-read’ for a living but I’m going to need a little more than this,” Spencer spoke.

“They’re going to kill her, Spence,” you cried.

“Who is her? The cat? And who is they?” Spencer patiently questioned his distraught wife.

“This is the last day to adopt Ms. Whiskers or the shelter is going to put her down,” you wept, “She’s perfectly healthy but no one wants her because she’s old.”

“Y/N, we’ve already got 3 young children, do we really need a cat in the mix?” Spencer sighed.

“Cats practically take care of themselves,” you explained through sobs, “Unless you’re saying you don’t want her too because she’s old. What is wrong with you, Spencer? Are you going to throw me to the curb when I’m old with gray hair too?”

“No, no, how could you even think that, love?” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

He knew you didn’t really mean that but you were just very worked up about this.

“I just saw it on instagram today and I really don’t want this cat to die,” you sobbed into his chest.

“A cat is dying?” Jo stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

You wiped your eyes, pulling away from Spencer’s chest, “At a shelter, yes,” you decided it was better to just tell her the truth.

“But why?” Jo began to form tears in her eyes as well.

“Sometimes there is no longer room at the shelter for all the animals so they have to let a few of them go,” you knelt down to her level.

“But I don’t want the cat to die,” Jo, not even having seen the picture of the cat yet, was already attached.

“It may be out of our control, sweetheart. I don’t know if it’s possible to-” you tried to console your crying child.

“Nope,” Spencer grabbed his keys, “Everyone load up, we’re going to save a cat.”

Jo wiped her tears away, “Really, Daddy? Do we get to keep them?”

“We can keep them until we find a nice owner, how about that?” Spencer offered.

You and Jo nodded enthusiastically with puffy red eyes.

Despite Spencer’s deal, no posters were ever hung, no texts were ever typed, no social media posts were ever made. As soon as you got home, that cat had already found its owners and it was the Reids.

That’s how you ended up with pet number one who had been renamed to Willow after Jo’s favorite Taylor Swift song.

She was later renamed again to simply “Kitty” because Willow was a bit of a mouthful for the twins.

“Spencer…” you wrapped your arms around him as he was folding laundry, “You know how you are just the best husband ever and I love you so much.”

“What did you do?” he chuckled, amused.

“I can’t just remind my husband how much I love him?” you pouted.

“You can and you already do but this,” he motioned to your excessive sappiness, “this is weird.”

“Christmas is coming up and I think I know the perfect gift for the kids,” you grinned.

Spencer leaned back against the washing machine with his arms crossed, “I’m listening.”

“A puppy!” you exclaimed.

Spencer turned back around, “I’m no longer listening.”

“You know how much they adore Kitty and as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t know how many more years that cat has left in her. I think they could benefit from another pet,” you explained.

“Puppies are a load of work, it’s essentially another child. They need to be potty-trained, fed, washed, and exercised. I already have to vacuum all of Kitty’s hair and change her litter box,” Spencer replied.

“I’ll make Jo promise to help out more and give her daily pet chores,” you pulled out an index card, “I did my own research and did you know dogs can lead to a lower level of stress, a better immune system including a decreased risk of developing asthma, AND they’re adorable.”

Spencer sighed, knowing he could never say no to his wife even if he tried, “Where would this so-called puppy even come from?

“The Fitzgerald’s 2 doors down have a pregnant golden retriever who has about a month left in her pregnancy.”

“Fine,” Spencer relented.

You jumped up and down in glee.

“I swear to god though, Y/N,” he warned, “I’m not picking up any pee or poop in the house. That’s somebody else’s job, I’ll leave it there.”

“You won’t,” you promised, “I’ll even let you name the puppy for being such a good sport,” you kissed him.

And that was how Spock, named after one of Spencer’s favorite Star Trek characters, became pet number 2 in the Reid household.

It was a few days after Christmas and true to your word, you and Jo had taken complete care of the puppy, cleaning its messes, taking it outside, and feeding it.

Spencer had tended to avoid the puppy just because everyone else was all over him so he didn’t feel obligated to give it more affection. After all, it was really just to make his family happy.

Spencer was the first to wake like usual, it was starting to flurry outside in the wintry air. He made his cup of coffee and perused the bookshelf for a good book to reread. He sank himself down on the couch, patting his lap for Kitty to settle herself in.

After about 20 minutes, Spencer heard whining at the front door. He glanced up from his book to see Spock gazing at the doorknob intently.

You and Jo wouldn’t be up for another half an hour or so but it was time for the twins to wake up.

“One sec, Spock,” Spencer stood from the couch, patting his head as he passed by the door.

Spock dutifully followed him up the stairs on his paws that were too big for his little body, tripping occasionally.

Ophelia and Ollie had just begun to stir in the morning light.

“Good morning, my little love bugs,” Spencer bent down to kiss them both, “We are going to go on a little morning walk with doggy before breakfast.”

“I wuv doggy,” Ophelia cooed.

“I know you do, love bug. Sometimes a little too much, remember what we said about gentle pets,” Spencer reminded her.

“Kitty come too?” Ollie babbled.

“Kitty stays inside all the time. But, Doggy likes to be both inside and outside,” Spencer explained.

He picked Ophelia up and set her down on the floor to slowly make her way downstairs on her own. He lifted Ollie onto his hip because although he could walk, he didn’t love to as much as his sister and Spencer was more than happy to carry one of his little love bugs in his arms forever.

Spencer started to work on getting Ollie all bundled up in his jacket, boots, snow pants, and pom-pom hat before doing the same to Ophelia.

Spencer clipped Spock’s leash to his collar and stepped into the cool air with a toddler on his hip and a puppy and another toddler on his heels.

“I hold,” Ophelia pointed to the leash.

“You can hold too but Daddy is going to keep holding so Doggy doesn’t pull you too hard,” he replied.

Ollie, suddenly feeling left out, squirmed to get down and held on to the leash as well.

One of the older ladies on the street was shoveling her steps as they passed by on the sidewalk.

“Well, isn't this just the cutest little scene for a Sunday morning?” she smiled.

“Good morning, Mrs. Peterson,” Spencer greeted, “Do you need any help shoveling?”

“You’re very kind but no thank you, dear. You’ve already got your hands full. Bill should be up later to help me,” she waved as they continued their walk down to the end of the road.

They stopped at the snow bank where the plow had pushed all the snow, creating a massive pile. The twins frolicked happily, creating little snow sculptures and forts.

Spencer, whose attire was flannel pajama pants, a thick cardigan, and fuzzy moccasins, opted to stay on the sidewalk with Spock where the snow was less abundant.

Spock brushed up against his pant leg.

“Your paws getting cold, buddy?” Spencer asked, scooping him up into his arms for the first time.

Spock curled up into his arms just like the twins did when they were newborns. Spencer loved it, just the feeling of someone or something depending on him for affection. Maybe he could get used to this whole dog dad thing.

Eventually, the twins got hungry so they headed back towards the house. Spencer could smell the baking muffins as soon as he opened the front door.

“Blueberry?” he asked hopefully, setting down Spock and unclipping him from the leash.

“Yes, sorry you had to take Spock out this morning. I can set an alarm to take him next time,” you spoke.

“It’s okay, I actually didn’t mind,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Daddy, can you start a fire please?” Jo asked from where she was sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Of course, Princess. Do you want to help?”

Jo nodded, hopping off the stool and starting to stack logs in the fire. Spencer crumpled up some old newspaper into balls, tossing them into the fire as well before striking a match and lighting it.

The oven timer went off for the muffins just in time and you plated them. Everyone took a seat on the couch to enjoy their delicious breakfast in front of the cozy fire.

Spock wandered over, hopping into Spencer’s lap next to Ollie. Next thing you know, Ophelia was throwing a fit because there was no room for her. Kitty looked confused as to why her normal spot was filled.

“We've been taking care of Spock this whole time and you take him on one walk and suddenly he clings to you. Unbelievable,” you smiled

“It’s called the ‘Reid Effect’,” Spencer stated with a grin, “Animals and children love me.”

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @ssacalumsg0lden @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @mggs-sidehoe @rexit-mo @hufflepuffhaze @thisismynerdyself @xoxospencerreid @wifeyprentiss @reidsbookclub @spencersrose @pinkdiamond1016 @muffin-cup

one-shot only taglist: @strawberryspence @fbivestreid

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #cm fic #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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willowedwisteria · 3 years

Text

~A Long-Awaited Return~

Summary -> Wisti's back in business!

Note -> I'm back! I've returned! WOOOOO!!! If you don't know what this little piece is, it's practically a hangout event!

You take a sip of your tea while sitting at the table. Memories of Wisteria happily telling you tales and answering your questions, causing you to feel a bit… homesick, if that’s the right word.

Her seat is empty and dust has built up on top of her stool made of stone. You place your hand on Wisteria’s seat, well the seat that she used to sit at, and it felt cool to the touch, causing shivers to run up your spine and the weight of hopelessness starts to weigh even more on your back.

You don’t know much about Wisteria’s return. You’re sure that Wisteria will come back. She said so herself. She told you, no, everyone that her return will be soon.

You can’t remember Wisteria’s stories, the tales she would recite to you as you slowly sip the tea she boiled for you. When you try to scour your mind for any memory or recollection of Wisteria’s tales, you just… can’t. Everything’s gone, you can only remember her name.

You place both of your hands on the table, pushing yourself out of your seat, leaving the imaginary space you had with them to listen to her rambling. You sigh and think assume that she’s late, coming to the conclusion that you should wait another day.

However, the sound of a liquid being poured into your cup stopped you. A more noticeable detail was the familiar voice cheerfully calling out to you.

“Leaving so soon? I haven’t even started, darling.”

Those words rang in your ear, calling you darling. You turn around to see Wisteria, no, Willow carefully tilting her wrist to pour freshly brewed tea into your cup and into your own.

“How has everyone been doing? Have you all been taking care of yourself properly?”

You smiled and returned to place yourself on your seat next to Wisteria, ready to catch her up and update her on everything that’s happened, even playfully chiding her to stay safe on the internet.

“I missed you all, it feels way better to be back. However, I wasn’t expecting people to actually be waiting for me to return after so long. I’m sure many people would have already moved on.”

You jest that she did make you wait for too long. She laughs in reply and asks you to take a sip of the tea she just made. According to Wisteria, it’s a new brew that she’s been dying to know your opinion on.

You press the cup against your lips as the liquid inside descends down your throat. It’s a surprising contrast to the brews that Wisteria has cooked up before.

Your last tea was bitter, it twisted your gut and you felt sick drinking any more of it. The taste reminded you of the everlasting loneliness that you feel in your heart, sitting by yourself under the shade of the tree.

Unlike your last tea, the lingering taste on your tongue felt… comfortable? Reassuring? It felt somewhat nostalgic. You couldn’t piece it together or find the right words to describe it.

“It tastes like home, right?”

Wisteria’s sudden question took you aback, it was unexpected. You could partially agree with her, but you weren’t sure if that was it.

“I always felt at home here, now that I’ve returned, I don’t really want to leave.”

Wisteria places herself on the seat next to you, the seat that she would always reserve for herself, taking a small sip of the tea and relieving that raspiness stuck in her voice.

"Don't you agree, oh dear reader?"

#Wisteriahangouts

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Beyond The Darkness

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Angst, Relationship Struggles, Self-doubt, Insecurities, Swearing

Genre: Angst with Fluff Ending, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Y/N finally expresses their worries, reluctance and suspicions regarding their relationship with Corpse who is more than surprised to be hearing such confession, thinking their relationship couldn’t be more perfect. Well, perfect on the surface.

Requested by @cinnamonbun332 Hi darling! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! You asked for some heartbreaking and then heart-healing and I hope I delivered properly. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

I didn’t choose to be insecure, I never wanted to be so anxious and self-conscious. No one can blame that on me for it’s something I’d get rid of within the blink of an eye if it were that easy. I didn’t choose to fall in love with Corpse either, it just happened. I was taken by storm by the feelings he awoke in me. It was terrifying and made me become a whole different person around him. I was torn between wanting him by my side at all times and never wanting to see him again for the purpose of those feelings dying down. That being said, I can’t be blamed for that either.

However, I can be blamed for one thing: accepting his offer for a date. I didn’t have to. I probably shouldn’t have accepted it just as much as he shouldn’t have brought it up. But, alas, I couldn’t help myself. That storm of emotions, that stirring lava within the volcano I was at the time was dying to seep out to the surface so it wouldn’t burn me from the inside out. Him asking me out on a date was practically the vessel for me to finally have a chance at expressing myself and how I feel and that’s something I’ve never been able to do properly or openly.

But with Corpse it has always been so easy.

Or...it was so easy.

It was easy until I started overthinking everything. Every interaction between us, between him and his friends. Between our two separate worlds.

I now have a hard time seeing us as a union, like we’re living together on the same planet of understanding and companionship. No, we’re more alike two planets in orbits near one another that are close but not close enough. Never destined to touch. Where I once saw light, I now see nothing. Almost as if I flipped the switch to my happiness myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if I did, it wouldn’t be my first time. I have a way of always finding a way to kill my happiness, put an end to my bliss. The key to doing so is what I already mentioned: overthinking, underestimating, undermining, over-worrying. In short: allowing my mind to torture me.

Sadly, it’s also forcing me to torture others.

At the moment, I’m spending day four back into my apartment, having come back with the excuse that I needed to get some piping fixed in the kitchen and needed to watch over the plumbers as they worked. I think Corpse bought that only halfway but if he didn’t believe me, he didn’t show it and I’m grateful for it. Or at least I think I am. Obviously, there was a part of me which screamed ‘See, he doesn’t care!’ at me when all he said in response to my announcement was ‘Oh, ok’. Of course, I didn’t pay that voice much mind then, but it’s starting to creep back in now and I really don’t know what to distract myself with to avoid hearing it. It’s not like I can internally deafen myself to stop it from eating away at me slowly but intently and with a scary determination that even I myself don’t have. Sadly, the pessimistic side of me does.

Truth be told, I wasn’t planning on staying home alone for four days straight, thinking I wouldn’t be able to make it that long without Corpse, thinking my loneliness would kill me. But, now that I am indeed alone, for some reason, I don’t feel really lonely, if at all. It’s refreshing and new, like a new but old perspective. Basically one I’ve missed for quite some time now without knowing that I did. Who knew going back to my empty apartment would be the cure to my messy head. Well, not a direct cure, but I have managed to map out at least a small portion of what’s going on up there, mend some of the damage I’ve done to myself.

Why do you always do that?

There’s that voice again, and some audacity it has! I’m not doing anything to myself! That voice is!

Saying that in court would easily land you in a mental facility, you know.

Fucking touché.

I think the reason why this is happening to me at the moment is because it’s been exactly four days since I last contacted Corpse. Or since he last contacted me. See what I’m going for here? See how toxic my mindset can be? Yeah, even I can hardly believe it sometimes. Like, how can something so dark be part of me - someone who used to be so cheerful and bubbly growing up. My nickname used to be ‘sunflower’ for a reason, but I might as well be a wilted willow now.

And who do you have to blame for that?

Will you fucking shut it!!!

As I’m in the midst of yet another self-argument, I near the doorbell ring, scaring me to the point I almost fall off my desk chair. I only then become aware of the blank MS Word document staring back at me. Throwing myself into work hasn’t been able to help me today. Instead of it distracting me from my struggles, it’s the other way around and I can’t fucking stand it.

Just like I’m beginning not to be able to stand myself. How Corpse and my friends do it, I have no idea. Well, they have it easy I guess, they don’t have to hear all the shit that happens in this beehive on my shoulders.

I lazily saunter over to open the door, not even thinking about looking through the peephole prior to turning the doorknob and swinging it open. That’s a mistake, considering that the mess I am is now face to face with Corpse. Let’s be honest, I’m past the point of stressing over how I look in front of him, we’ve been dating for almost a year now after all. However, this look on me right now is beyond disturbing. One that would leave him questioning if I need help or if I’m doing alright. The answer to both of those questions is no, by the way. Yes, to both.

“Corpse?“ I croak out, fighting my way out of the cloud of confusion surrounding me.

“Y/N?“ He replies, mimicking me though his confusion isn’t as much confusion as it is concern. Gotta say - rightfully so.

I shake my head as if awakening from a fever dream, basically hitting the ground head-first, “Um...yeah, uh, come in!” I finally manage to say, forcing my feet to step aside to allow him inside.

He nods and takes a step beyond the doorstep, cautious as though I’ve rigged the place with traps. I mean, ok, I’m weird, but not that weird. I’m not a complete psycho. At least not yet. Give me a few more months by myself. Or weeks.

“I haven’t been here in so long...“ he mumbles, sounding almost as if he’s talking to himself. Before I could say anything, he wanders off into the kitchen, “Where are the plumbers?“

“What plumbers?“ I blurt out, unable to contain the widening of my eyes when I realize what I’ve said.

You. Fucking. Idiot!!!

“The ones you came here to monitor...?“ His answer sounds more like a question as well, both of us just staring at each other as we await what idiocy will leave my brain and come out of my mouth next.

The silence lasts for a few seconds before he breaks it by speaking up again, “There are no plumbers, are there?”

“No, not today! I mean- not right now.“ I resist the urge to smack my forehead with the palm of my hand in embarrassment. “They’ll come back...later! They were here up until an hour ago.“

Real smooth, Y/N. This is why you never play Among Us

Corpse looks around, even taking a peek over my shoulder before making a mock-confused expression as he shrugs his shoulders, “Your kitchen looks pretty tidy for being a place of such complex fixes happening.“

I let out a hysterical gust of laughter, squeezing my thumb so hard I might rip it off my hand, “Yeah, you know me, I like my living space tidy.”

He nods slowly, “Yeah, I know you. I know you’re not.“

The air gets caught in my throat when he eyes meet mine when he says that. I feel redness creeping up my neck, spreading across my cheeks and climbing up to my forehead and ears.

Oh you’d so be ejected right now

“Y/N, what’s really going on here? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong? If so, please just tell me. This silent treatment and avoiding is killing me. If I didn’t come here I would’ve gone insane. You would’ve found my walls with writings on them...“ He stops talking abruptly, letting out a soundless sigh as though his soul left his body, his gaze softening with sadness, “That is, of course, if you were even planning to come back. Ever...“

“Of course I was!“ I exclaim, feeling my chest tighten at the hurt I see in his eyes, “I just...I needed time. I still do.“

“Time away from what?“ He asks, desperate to hear the answer no matter how much it could hurt him.

I honestly don’t know what to tell him. I have no idea what I’m running from. I don’t even know if I’m running, hiding, contemplating, I have no idea what I’m doing. Is he the problem? Am I? Are we the problem? Our relationship as a whole?

“I don’t need time from anything, Corpse. I just...I need some time with myself. With my own thoughts. I’m really torn, have been for quite some time now. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know if I’m doing is the right thing. I don’t know if we are the right thing. I-...“ I buffer for a second, feeling the words start getting more and more tripped up as they climb up my throat. Eventually, they end up getting caught in an invisible net which doesn’t allow them to make it to my mouth, let alone leave it. Now at a loss for words, I let out a sigh of defeat, feeling my eyes welling up with tears, “I don’t know anything, damn it! I’m a mess. Why do you tolerate me? I’m no good to myself let alone to someone else!“

I don’t know where this outburst came from, but I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t relieving. I feel like a popped balloon, letting out what’s been straining me from the inside for a long time now. Lord knows how Corpse took it, I can’t bring myself to look up at him, but all I know is that I finally did something I can officially deem right.

Suddenly, I feel the familiar touch of Corpse’s hands on my shoulders, pulling my chest flush against his, his arms wrapping around me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. His lips plans a kiss a the top of my head before he rests his chin there, holding me tightly.

“Why haven’t you told me any of this?“ He whispers, his voice emotional to the point of almost making me regret saying all that.

Almost...

“I didn’t want to worry you.“ I let out a half-hearted chuckle, “And I didn’t want you finding out what kind of nut-job you’re dating.“

He scoffs, “Even if you were a nut-job, Y/N - which, by the way, you’re not - I wouldn’t mind. I’m a nut-job for you. Utterly and completely crazy for you, babe. I’m always here for you, always there for you to talk to me, tell me all that’s going on in that busy head of yours. All you have to do is talk, and all I’ll do is listen.”

I sniff briefly, “Now you’re making me regret not saying it earlier.”

“Then I’m doing the right thing.“ He mutters, his tone suggesting I take the wheel of the conversation and say all I’ve been keeping within me until now.

“You see, I tend to enjoy certain things a lot. Get attached to people super quickly and easily. And then, after a certain period of time, I find myself rethinking and overthinking everything about that thing or person to the point I’m not even sure I like it - or them - anymore. At least not to the same degree as previously. I slowly start become unsure of everything around me, even my own thoughts and feelings. It’s almost like where I used to see light, there’s now darkness. Worst part is, I’m the one who put that light out for myself. I always do it to myself and then hate myself for it. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t escape - killing my joy and blaming and despising myself for it.“ I sigh, nuzzling my face into his chest, “I just wish this curse avoided our relationship. You’re too good to me, I love you too much to lose you, Corpse.“

I feel his arms tighten their hold on me even more, pulling me even closer despite it not being possible. “Y/N, you can’t lose me. Not over that, not over anything. We all have our demons, you just gotta remember to hold onto me tighter than those demons are holding onto you. You gotta let me help you when you realize you can’t help yourself.” He gently pulls away from me, his hands now coming up to cup my cheeks as he gazes into my eyes, “You gotta learn to see beyond the darkness you surround yourself with. Beyond the darkness, that’s where I’m waiting for you. I’m always gonna be there. I’m a very patient guy, you know.”

I can’t help but laugh, suddenly feeling the bubbly giggles escaping from my chest, pressed out of me by the massive wave of relief that’s washed over my sore insides. Sore from the holding back and now even more so from letting go. But damn does it feel good.

“Looks like I don’t need a plumber but an electrician to fix this light I keep turning off.“ I say, pushing up on my toes to only barely touch my forehead to his. Luckily, he sees what I’m trying to do, so he leans down. “I need him to make it un-turn-off-able.“

Corpse smiles, humming approvingly, “I can help you with that. Starting with...“ and with that he tilts his head, his lips colliding with mine.

I gotta say: damn have I missed this feeling.

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

23 with hurt Obi-Wan and a comforter of your choosing, please!

Hi Willow!! Thanks so much for the prompt and sorry it took so long! From these prompts // prompts now closed

TW: panic attacks/anxiety

Here ya go!

---

One thing that makes Obi-Wan Kenobi the most utterly infuriating Master in the Jedi Order is that he so often does not mean what he says and he does not say what he means.

It took some time for Anakin to grow accustomed to Obi-Wan’s softening or, oftentimes, denial of his own feelings and emotions. But over the years, Anakin learned that when Obi-Wan starts rubbing at his eyes every few minutes, it means he is tired. He learned that when Obi-Wan says “I’m just tired” it means that he is sad. When he says “I’m fine,” it means he is anything but.

And when he says “I’m a little frustrated,” it means he is one snide comment away from dragging Anakin’s sorry ass to Coruscant’s highest tower and pushing him clean off the balcony.

So when Obi-Wan says “something isn’t right,” and his voice lacks the unwavering strength he always places at the forefront, Anakin can’t help but feel that the sky is about to fall from its rightful place in the heavens.

Unused to this level of candor coming from his former Master, Anakin clutches the commlink in his hand so tight he is only a few pounds of pressure away from crushing it in his grasp.

“What do you mean something isn’t right? Are you hurt?”

“Anakin, I– I can’t breathe.”

His voice is feathery. Unsure.

Anakin’s alarm spikes and he takes off towards Obi-Wan’s quarters.

“Master, I’m on my way,” Anakin says, the thundering of his footsteps adding audible truth to his reassurances.

Anakin hears Obi-Wan’s shuddering breaths crackling over his comm and quickens his pace.

“Hey, just stay with me, Master. Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” Obi-Wan says.

“Yes, you can. I’m almost there,” Anakin repeats.

Despite the rapid beat of his heart, Anakin’s hands are steady as he punches in the code to Obi-Wan’s quarters.

Anakin feels him before he sees him. The thick haze of anxiety threatens to suffocate the room, and Anakin can feel the ghosts of pain in his own chest.

“Master?” he calls out, sharp eyes scanning the room for Obi-Wan. He finds him, but the state he finds him in is unusual, to say the least.

Anakin kneels beside where Obi-Wan sits, huddled in the corner of his kitchen. He’s not looking at Anakin. He’s not looking at anything. His eyes are fixed on nothing but the opposite wall, even when Anakin positions himself in front of his unending gaze.

“Master?” he says softly, searching for a hidden wound or injury. “Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head no.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Feel like I’m dying,” Obi-Wan whispers, and all at once the phantom pain in Anakin’s chest makes sense and he realizes that while Obi-Wan is not hurt in the traditional sense of the word, he is still hurting.

“It feels that way,” Anakin says softly. “It feels that way, but you aren’t, I promise.”

“I know, I know,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin can see the logical side of his former Master fighting to break through the very primal, but very real fear and panic he is feeling.

“Just breathe alright? Breathe with me and you’ll be okay.”

Obi-Wan nods and obeys, following Anakin’s breathing pattern.

The world around them is quiet, save the white noise of speeder traffic outside the windows. Ragged breaths turn even and steady. Dilated eyes sharpen. The phantom pain in Anakin’s chest lessens, but tendrils of dread still wrap their inky claws around his lungs.

It will have to do for now.

Anakin stands up and locates a glass. He fills it with cool water and hands it to Obi-Wan.

“Drink this. Slowly,” Anakin says, kneeling beside Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan nods and takes small sips from the offered glass. His breathing evens and his eyes clear up.

“Feeling better?”

“I don’t think I’m going to die anymore if that is what you’re asking,” Obi-Wan says dryly. He scrubs at his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Master, it’s the middle of the night,” Anakin says. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Obi-Wan looks away and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “You didn’t need to come here over a stupid dream. It was nothing… just–”

“Stop,” Anakin says. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Obi-Wan says innocently as if he does not know exactly what he is doing.

“Pretending,” Anakin says. “You’re always pretending you’re okay. Like you don’t need anyone. Like you don’t need…” He stops himself before he can finish his sentence, because, in truth, Anakin doesn’t actually know if Obi-Wan needs him as much as Anakin does. He’s not sure he wants to find out this way. “Just stop pretending,” he finally whispers, resigned.

Obi-Wan stutters and Anakin can’t help but think what an ironic thing it is for the fabled Negotiator to be at a loss for words.

“I’m not pretending,” he finally says.

“Then you are lying to yourself,” Anakin says. “The war affects you as much as it affects everyone else. You’ve got too much pride to admit it.”

Obi-Wan rests his forehead on his knees and Anakin starts to think that maybe he’s being too harsh too soon after Obi-Wan’s panic attack, but the words inside of him are like a tightly coiled snake and he can’t stop them from unleashing their venom.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says finally. “Of course it affects me. Tonight’s episode is pretty damning evidence against me.” He blinks quickly and Anakin sees that he is blinking back tears. “It affects me, though I cannot afford to let it.”

“Is it so wrong for it to affect you?”

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says sharply. “It is.”

“Why?”

“Too many people depend on me – depend on us – to stay strong in the fight. I make the wrong call? Men die. I slip up? Systems fall. We have everything to lose, Anakin. And I don’t want to be the one who loses it.”

Panic of his own lances through Anakin’s chest. How many times had a bad call of his led to the deaths of his men? Civilians?

Too many.

They haunted him at night just as they haunt Obi-Wan now.

Obi-Wan sighs. “Forgive me, Anakin. I did not mean to burden you with this.” Obi-Wan clambers to his feet and extends a hand down to Anakin who accepts it. “As you said, it’s the middle of the night. You should go to bed.”

“I can stay.”

“No. I can sense how tired you are. Go back to your quarters. You deserve your rest.”

Anakin wants to argue, but he finds he lacks the energy.

“Alright. Are you sure you’re okay?” Anakin asks wearily.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan says.

But Anakin knows better than that.

#tw panic attack #tw anxiety #my writing #thanks for the prompt!#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #willow tag #q #prompts now closed

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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imagine-that · 3 years

Text

The L word

Pairing: Spike x Reader, sort of Spike x Buffy

Warnings: none really, kinda angsty ig??

AN: takes place in 4x09, also I’m in love with spike and proud of it

“Summers what did you do with my boyfriend?” You yell as you make your way to the living room of Giles’s home.

She looks up with an eyebrow raised, clearly un phased by your anger.

“Aren’t you supposed to only come out in the dark?” She asks boredly.

You groan, anger seething through you.

“Slayer, I mean it. Where is he?” You ask again, looking her dead in the eyes.

She sighs, standing up and walking over to you.

“He’s not here. Why would he come over here at all? We all want him dead, remember?” She explains again with a sigh.

“I don’t know! Where is he? I haven’t seen him in days. I thought... I thought maybe he’d come here to take something but I just... I don’t know!” You whine, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“He probably ran off to hunt some sorority girls or something.” She responds with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, looking back at her with daggers of a stare. “You’re cruel, you know that? You think I don’t believe that he’d jump some whores bones behind my back? Or go back to Drusilla in a heartbeat? Not that the two are any different...” You mutter with a bitter tone. “But I do. I fear that every damn day I’m with him but that doesn’t stop me from staying with him always, which brings me back to my initial question: where is he?” You repeat, looking to her desperately.

“I don’t know. I tend not to keep tabs on the non threatening enemies.” She responds.

You huff a sigh, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “Fine I’ll just find him myself.” You mutter, storming out the door and into the warmth of the setting sun.

You walk your way home, laying defeatedly in your bed, patting at the side where Spike would usually be.

After a lot of worrisome hours, you finally fall into a less than peaceful sleep.

———————————————————————————

The next day is spent wandering around, hunting for Spike. You’re restless and you know you probably look crazed, wandering around the town of Sunnydale in your sweats and tank top, your hair a frizzy mess and your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

You wander mindlessly towards Buffy and Willow’s dorm, stopping outside as you see her familiar curly head of hair. Your breath hitches as you see the familiar white head of hair suddenly appear next to her, racing across the lawn, not caring in the slightest how he ended up there. Just that he was there was enough.

You notice the conversation the two of them had started since he appeared but don’t care, jumping onto his back, your arms wrapped securely around him as you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck desperately.

He lets out a grunt in surprise, chuckling a bit as you place a kiss on his cheek, ignoring the rest of whatever crazy conversation he’d started with Buffy.

“Hello pet.” He hums, smirking as he helps you off his back, pulling you into his side.

“I was so worried.” You whisper as he breaths in the scent of your hair.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He responds, nipping at your ear playfully and making you giggle.

Buffy rolls her eyes, moving to push you out of the way. You whimper as she shoves you to the ground, watching as Spike fills with anger, going forward and punching her in the nose, only to cry out in pain and hold his head.

Buffy punches back, making him wince.

“As touching as this moment was, I have business with you.” She growls, grabbing Spike and tying him up easily.

You try to protest but every time she manages to fight you off, threatening to knock you out the next time you tried anything.

You trail after them, not wanting to lose his whereabouts again no matter what it took.

You follow her all the way into Giles’s house again, watching in horror as she tosses him to the ground.

Spike lets out a grunt. “Hey! Watch it!” He growls, glaring up at her.

“One more word out of you, and I swear...” She threatens, pointing at him with a dangerous look in her eye.

“Back off Buffy!” You warn but she gives you the same look, somehow making you back down.

You feel weak and helpless but she manages to scare you. You can’t put your finger on why, more than likely the aggression but she’s a force to be reckoned with and you know you fighting her would only end in your death.

Spike rolls his eyes again, looking bored.

“Swear, what? You're not gonna do anything to me. You don't got the stones.” He says with a small grin, making you feel slightly better yourself.

Buffy scoffs, looking at him in disbelief. “Oh, I got the stones. I got a whole bunch of .. stones.” She responds defensively.

Spike laughs, grinning to her tauntingly. “Yeah? You're all talk.” He challenges fearlessly, his tone almost bored. You giggle a bit yourself, glad he’s not completely miserable.

“GILES! I accidentally killed Spike. That's okay, right?” Buffy shouts, glaring daggers in his direction.

“Lay another hand on him and I’ll kill you myself!” You threaten, jumping in front of your boyfriend quickly.

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. He on the other hand, looks at you, a look of pride strong in his eyes, making you grin and blush a bit.

“Uh um just a minute...” Giles calls back, sounding confused.

The two bicker back and forth while you wait, uttering threat after threat.

She grabs him, shoving him into a chair harshly. You glare in protest, making your way to her to stop her rough movements but Spike makes eye contact with you, tilting his head in a way that tells you not to try anything.

He sneers at her with anger in his face. “I get this spell reversed, they'll be finding your body for weeks.” He growls, making your face twist in confusion.

“Spell?” You ask, ignoring the heat of the moment.

“Long story babe. You’ll hear all about it when we blow this popsicle stand.” He says with a smirk, glancing at Buffy menacingly.

“Oh please, make a move. I’m dying for a good slay.” Buffy glowers back, stepping closer to him angrily.

Suddenly, the tension dissipates between them and Buffy is untying him, as he stands he allows her the seat, barely giving you a second glance.

“Spike?” You ask, confused.

He ignores you, getting down on his knees.

“Giles!” You cry out in alarm, watching with wide eyes at the scene before you.

As Giles enters the room, you watch the moment continue, frozen in your spot against your better judgement.

“If the two of you could just remain civil long enough for-“ He starts but then he gets a picture of what’s happening.

“It’s just so sudden!” Buffy says with a small, gleeful smile. “I don’t know what to say.” She adds.

“Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth.” Spike urges, smiling at her with her hand held in his.

You feel tears brimming your eyes, blurring your vision slightly.

“But- but I thought I made you the happiest man on earth...” You mumble, looking to him longingly. Again, he’s too enthralled with Buffy to give you the time of day.

“Oh Spike! Of course it’s a yes!” Buffy squeals, embracing him in her arms.

A second later, their lips are pressed together, moving in sync and you feel your heart shatter inside your chest.

The feeling of emptiness sinks in as you feel the tears running down your face.

Finally, spike looks at you, a frown taking over his face.

“Oh y/n, it’s nothing personal. I did love you but Buffy and I are just meant to be. We’ve got so much history, it’s only right that something comes from it.” He explains, Buffy draped over his lap.

He reaches to give your hand a sympathetic squeeze but you jerk away, cradling your hand defensively as more tears form.

“D-do not touch me.” You growl, backing away from them and hiccuping between sobs.

“Come anywhere near me again and I’ll stake you myself.” You whisper, looking to him in a haunted daze.

The happy couple quickly gets too involved in each other to care, shrugging and distracting themselves with wedding details as you back out the door, your mind whirling with the memory of seeing them together like that.

You always doubted yourself, knowing Spike could probably find someone much better than you. But you’d never dreamed that of all the women he could get with, the one he’d want would be Buffy the slayer. He’d always hated her and her friends with a passion so strong, you never imagined that passion would go into something other than hatred.

You make your way back to your place like a zombie, your head too heavy with sorrow to think of anything else.

You let your tears roll down your face as you enter, grabbing your things as quickly as possible and shoving them all into a duffel bag, ignoring anything you see that belongs to Spike. You sniffle as you make a small accidental glance at the Polaroid you’d taken of the two of you together not long ago.

It usually made you laugh when you looked at it, seeing as it was you kissing the air considering the whole no pictures thing. Spike had hated taking it but you’d insisted and when you laughed at it you always saw a small, hesitant grin come to his face.

You collapse to the floor in tears, clutching the picture to you desperately. You longed for his touch, the cool fingertips that would send goosebumps over your entire body and warmth all at the same time.

You sit there feeling useless for what feels like hours, the ripe vision of Spike and Buffy sucking face fresh in your mind, taunting you.

Composing yourself, you rise to your feet, dragging yourself back outside.

“I will not let him unravel me like this.” You promise yourself, taking a deep breath.

You pull a hoodie on over your tank top, walking out into the cool night air and off towards the graveyard, needing to clear your head. For some reason the graveyard was oddly calming to you in a sense, the constant quiet and sense of aloneness comforting for you.

Suddenly, you see the scoobies fighting demons out of a crypt. You roll your eyes, turning to walk away but letting out a sigh as you decide to be a bigger person and help.

You run over, grabbing one of Buffy’s weapons and throwing your anger at her and Spike into fighting off one of the demons in front of you. You stab it, making it shrivel to the ground and die. You feel oddly liberated and refreshed, which makes you go after another, then another, then another. Next thing you know, you’ve killed all the demons in sight.

“Woah! Can someone say rage, party of one?” Xander jokes. No one laughs and you remain sulking, crossing your arms and ignoring the couple kissing in the corner.

The gang continues fighting demons as they come. You’re having fun for a while but then you watch as Spike gets attacked by one of them and you jump, surprised by what’s happened.

“Spike!” Buffy and you shout at the same time, both running to him. But Buffy’s faster, grabbing him in her hands and making you feel green with envy.

A second later you’re absolutely seething, watching her kiss him in a moment of worry and passion again. You bite your lip, trying to prevent yourself from saying or doing anything.

A few moments and many excruciating kisses later, a bolt of lightning crashes across the sky. You don’t think anything of it at first, but then Spike and Buffy jump apart as though they couldn’t possibly be anywhere near each other ever again.

“Oh ugh.” Buffy groans, looking at Spike as if he had bit her.

“Oh bloody hell!” Spike cries, his lips curling up in a show of absolute disgust.

The both of them wipe their lips, rubbing at their tongues like they’re on fire. Spike gags and Buffy pretends to tremble in disgust.

“Spike lips! Lips of Spike!” She bellows, shuddering.

“I happen to think you’d be lucky to kiss those lips.” You murmur hoarsely with a sad smile. Spike looks to you in shock, clearly knowing what all had happened.

“Y/n baby...” He says but you turn away, starting to walk away while rubbing your arms for warmth.

“Go away.” You sigh, making your way out of the graveyard quickly.

“Y/n!” He calls after you, running to catch up.

“I don’t want to talk to you Spike.” You say weakly, not even convincing yourself that it’s true.

He runs a little faster and gets in front of you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders to keep you where you are.

“C’mon pet... I would never do that to you, you know that.” He promises. You sigh, looking at him for the first time in the past few days.

“That’s just the thing Spike; I don’t know that. You still pine after Drusilla so I know you’d leave me for her in the blink of an eye. You still chase around college girls, even if you can’t feed off them. And now you’ve gone for Buffy. The slayer. The girl you’ve hated since day one.” You ramble, needing to get everything out in the open. “I’ve always been here for you but you will always put them first Spike and that kills me, it breaks me. But I live with it because I love you. But even with that, I’ve had enough of this whole focus on what you want all the time. It’s... I can’t do it anymore Spike. I’m tired, I’m so tired.” You cry, tears flowing out of you like a river once again.

Spike holds you in his arms, rubbing a hand over your back unsurely. “There there...” he says hesitantly, clearly unsure what to do in this situation.

With his minimal efforts of help, you recompose yourself and dab your eyes, waiting for him to start talking.

“Listen to me alright? That thing with the slayer was not real. Drusilla hates me and I want nothing to do with her either. The sorority girls? Just entertaining and good to take out my aggressions. You’re nothing like any of them. You’re better. You’re better because you’re you and you’re mine and because I love you damn it!” He exclaims, his tone one of desperation and desire as he’s meeting your eyes through his entire speech.

Your eyes open wider as you look up at him, sucking in your bottom lip.

“Y-you love me?” You ask quietly with a soft smile.

He nods, smirking and taking in a sigh. “Yes, I bloody love you with every piece of me.” He promises, running his hand over your hip while the other cups your face.

You stay stunned for a second. He’d never said the L word with you before. It was implied, it was shown through actions and gestures but never actually spoken. The words being directed at you from his lips though, that was the sweetest sound you could ever hear.

“I love you too Spike.” You say with a smile, closing the tense gap between you with an electrifying kiss. You both feel it all through your bodies, the connection binding itself once and for all.

He growls into your lips, making you smile.

“That slayer had nothing on you pet.” He promises, holding you close to him in an almost possessive way.

“Really?” You murmur doubtfully.

“Without a doubt.” He confirms roughly, digging his fingers into your hair.

You let out a moan and without hesitation, he hoists you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. The two of you stay glued to each others lips as he carries you back to the cavern you live in where he shows you just how much he loves you and only you.

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whitleyschn33 · 3 years

Text

Not Everything Can Be Wiped Away With A Hug

Or why I’m not happy with Weiss and Whitley’s reconciliation.

Whitley and Weiss haven’t had a great relationship. From the first time we see him, the two are shown to not be comfortable with each other. Weiss’ tone when they meet is one of dismissiveness and wariness, even if the conversation ends on a technically hopeful note. As the show goes on, every interaction the two have is riddled with tension. Weiss accuses him of wanting her loss of status, Whitley gets angry and bites back. Whitley stops by her room to ask if she wants anything and twist the knife, Weiss asks if he’s jealous and slams the door in his face. When Weiss comes back at the party, she does everything she can to brush him off, clearly annoyed, while Whitley talks about what he’s been up to since she’s been gone. Weiss laughs when Whitley gets splashed with wine, Whitley storms off in a huff. Then Weiss comes back during the... siege(? I don’t know what to call this failed attempted at a Fall), commanders the house, shoves a weapon in Whitley’s face, sends him to his room like he’s a child, and then doesn’t acknowledge him again until he calls Klein. At which point she hugs him and all tensions disappears from their relationship.

See what’s missing here? We have point A of massive hostility between the two with both parties having grievances with the other and point B of both parties having found a balance in their relationship. What’s missing is a strong connection between those two points. What’s missing is the meat of the actual arc, something between set up and pay off, and that’s ultimately the problem with their reconciliation. It wasn’t worked for, at least on Weiss’s end. There was no effort for any of their grievances to be addressed, talked about, and worked through. There was no point where they took the grievances that had been brought up and had the characters discuss or react to them in any meaningful way. It just fell into their laps - or rather, it fell mostly into Weiss’s lap. That’s the short version, anyway. Let’s discuss the long version.

In Volume 7, Weiss and Whitley’s relationship is tense, Weiss clearly annoyed and dismissive of her brother for being a snot towards her, and Whitley angry that Weiss ignores him and abandoned him to their neglectful/abusive parents. In episode 7, though, Willow flat out tells Weiss why Whitley acts the way he does to her. Willow gives us Whitley’s motivations - that he’s hurt and resentful towards Weiss. This is the set up for a reconciliation; Weiss has been given insight into Whitley’s point of view (had it literally shoved in her face), and has the chance to contemplate it so as to be able to find common ground later.

Plot stuff happens, and the two are separated as Weiss deals with all that until Weiss needs a place to lay low. Armed with new information on Whitley’s disposition, Weiss...

Whitley: Oh, you’ve picked a fine time to--

Weiss interrupts by pointing Myrtenaster at him, and he looks at the blade in fright.

Weiss: Not. Another. Word. We’re coming in.

Whitley steps aside and groans as Ruby’s group walks into the manor.

...threatens him after saying 7 words. Not even words of “you can’t come in” or anything to suggest he won’t let them in but, “oh great, this is a wonderful~ time to drop by”, venting frustration. Weiss doesn’t try anything else before shoving a weapon in his face (the face of an unarmed, defenseless, civilian minor that physically can’t stop her from coming in anyway) and forcing her way inside.

Whitley: Things are already bad enough after what you did to father, now you want us to harbor fugitives too? Our family has a reputation.

He crosses his arms in annoyance. Blake, having set Nora down on the floor, looks at him.

Blake: That’s what you’re worried about? Your reputation?

Whitley: I’m just saying that we’ve already lost all the house staff, and Mother locked herself in her room.

Weiss: Maybe you haven’t figured out what’s going on, Whitley, but we’re busy trying to save Atlas.

Whitley continues to vent his frustration. Jacques, Whitley’s only source of familial attention, has been taken away by Weiss (”what you did to Father”), the staff has all vacated the estate (most likely a combination of their employer being carted away in the back of a military truck and then all hell breaking loose in Mantle and Atlas airspace), and Willow, the only other human being in the mansion, has locked herself in her room for several hours, up to almost 24 hours (I’m honestly lost on the timeline of this volume with how much it flip-flops between night and day, and I can’t be bothered to rewatch these episodes).

Whitley has been left completely and utterly alone, and Weiss comes back not for him, but to use his resources to hide herself and her friends, all of which are wanted by the military. I don’t know what Atlesian policy is, but harboring fugitives is a crime punishable with prison sentences in the US, dependent on what the fugitive is charged with. She’s forcing him to risk being arrested and imprisoned for her crimes, after destroying his family’s reputation with Jacques’ arrest and causing everyone to vacate the manor and leaving him utterly alone (the way he follows up Blake’s response with “I’m just saying we’ve already lost all the house staff” makes me think he’s tying those two things together. With Jacques’s arrest, their reputation is falling, and everyone’s jumping ship, starting with the house staff. Any other family allies the Schnees might have legally and politically are likely to follow suit to save their own skin (ah, societal politics of the rich). Harboring fugitives and Whitley and possibly Willow arrested as well? The Schnees are sunk, dead in the water. They’re not getting out of that, they’ll be left to the dogs.). And how does Weiss respond?

Weiss: Maybe you haven’t figured out what’s going on, Whitley, but we’re busy trying to save Atlas.

How in the absolute hell is he supposed to come to this conclusion? No, really, tell me. He knows two things: one, he knows there’s some kind of Grimm threat in the heatless Mantle and hovering around Atlas based on the news - maybe; we don’t know how much the news has reported about how bad it is outside of that one Mantle broadcast and how much Whitley has kept up with the news (he seems the type to absorb in as much information as possible, but he may not have been watching every waking second) - and two, he knows his sister and her friends have pissed off the military and are marked as fugitives. There is no way for him to know that the group of fugitives are doing anything to help Atlas, especially when he has no way to know what’s going on and what Weiss+co are up to. Weiss’ comment does nothing but imply that he’s too wrapped up in his own stuff to see the big picture, when he doesn’t have the knowledge that there’s even a big picture to look at. Rather than trying to reach out and reason with Whitley, Weiss snaps at him and treats him like he’s being self absorbed and shallow. His life is falling apart, he’s been left behind again by staff and his mother, and Weiss doesn’t just not respond to it, she gets mad at him for it. It’s Ruby that has to step up and tell him that they just need a place for their friend to heal and then they’ll leave (which turns out to be a bold-faced lie, but that’s another post).

Whitley relents then, and asks what they want him to do. Weiss then tells him to “go to his room”. Let’s set this up - we don’t know how old Whitley is, but we can guess based on Weiss’s age. Weiss is 19, and Whitley is likely 2 to 3 years younger, as he seems a bit older than Oscar but most likely more than a year younger than Weiss. That makes Whitley at least 16 years old, possibly 17. Whitley is either just a year younger or the same age as Ruby, the girl Weiss is blindly following as a leader. Whitley is not a child. A minor, probably, but not a child (I consider “child” to be 12 and under, and minor to be 13 - 16/17 (depending on what the age of maturity is in Remnant, which I’ve always considered to be 17 based on Beacon admission ages) btw to clarify). Yet, Weiss tells the boy that she has no legal or emotional authority over that’s about the same age as her leader to go to his room, treating him like he’s a petulant child. She doesn’t want to have to deal with him, so she shunts him aside - makes it clear that she’s not going to break his isolation, she wants him out of her way. Alone.

The relationship between Weiss and Whitley was already tense and hostile, but this pushes that to the next level. Before, it was hurt feelings and snipping - valid hurt feelings on both sides - but this has escalated it. Physical threats of violence, forcing him into committing a possible felony, and then dismissing him like he’s a child shows a lack of respect for Whitley, and is the exact opposite of working towards reconciliation. I wouldn’t be surprised if Whitley’s anger and resentment towards his sister grew after this; that would be my reaction.

“But wait!” You might be thinking. “That’s not really fair to Weiss - she’s worried about Nora who’s possibly dying and about being followed by Atlas’ military. She just wants to get under cover as fast as possible and then get to helping Nora! She’s stressed and tense, it makes sense that she’d be brusque to Whitley; we shouldn’t judge her so harshly.” To which I say - character is the choices you make under pressure, not when everything is just fine. Weiss resorting to the threat of violence immediately against someone she knows is no threat when faced with a tense situation where some diplomacy and respect would go a long way, it’s not a good look for who she is as a person. But alright, let’s play that game. Weiss is too worried about Nora to deal with Whitley at the moment. She gets Nora to bed, starts treating her as best she can, and then...

Nothing. Weiss doesn’t speak to Whitley again until he calls Klein for Nora, presumably a day later (once again, I’m not entirely sure. They arrive at what I believe is sunset, Amity happening that night, then the sun rising or setting in Midnight (?) and in War it’s night again as Klein arrives, so I think that this has to be the next night but it’s extremely difficult to tell and causes a crap ton of plot holes, thanks a lot CRWBY (I might skim through each episode to put together just how broken the timeline is)). That’s 24 hours where Weiss didn’t decide to ask Ruby or Blake (who I would have thought would be the one to have the most first aid knowledge of the three with her militia group experience) to watch over Nora for a few minutes while she seeks out Whitley to talk to him. 24 hours where she didn’t choose to apologize for threatening him, or go to talk to him about what’s going on, or follow up on Willow’s request, or ask if their mother is even alive still if she’s been locked up drinking for over a day, probably 2 (again, the timeline is fucked up). That’s not “I’m rushing and being harsher than I normally would out of concern for my friend”, that’s “I don’t regret or care about how I’ve treated my brother; I don’t see any reason to reach out to him” (And as side note - if Weiss had gone to see Whitley earlier, letting him know just how bad of shape Nora was in, Whitley might have called Klein earlier. By talking to her brother, Weiss could have gotten Nora the help she needed sooner, but she didn’t).

This is the next conversation Weiss and Whitley have after she threatens him and sends him to his room. I know I spent far too long breaking it down, but that was just one incident, the only one between between Willow telling Weiss to not forget Whitley and their hug.

Weiss: You called Klein?

Whitley: That girl needs a doctor. (turns away from Weiss) I didn’t do it for you.

Weiss: I know. That’s why it means so much to me.

Whitely gasps as Weiss steps forward to hug him. After some hesitation, he sighs and embraces her back. Weiss gasps when she and the others hear an explosion from outside.

That’s it. That’s their reconciliation. After this point, Whitley shows no anger towards Weiss or brings up his issues with her, so we’re meant to think that this is it, the Weiss-Whitley reconciliation is over.

Now, on Weiss’s side, I could see this putting Whitley in her good graces (maybe). Weiss’ grievances with Whitley boil down to hurt feelings over him being a snot about her loss of inheritance and being annoying. Whitley was being a jerk about it when he came around in V4E9 to twist the knife, but we know why he did that (he was pushing his own situation in Weiss’s face, a “see how you like it, being stuck here alone like I was” type thing), Weiss does get an explanation for it later from Willow, and at the end of the day, that’s all he did. He didn’t betray her, act against her, try and get her in trouble with Jacques - he didn’t do anything to her. Gloating at the role reversal is petty, yes, but it’s not like Weiss doesn’t attempt to fire right back, and it’s not like she wasn’t plenty rude to him when accusing him of wanting it to happen. Weiss mentions “you never liked me” in V4E7, but we never get anything more specific than that, and implies that he was just bitter and snippy with her like he is in V4E9. Theoretically he could have been an absolute terror before, but since we’re never shown any of this or given any examples, it’s difficult to factor in anything Whitley may have done before V4 as a piece of Weiss’ attitude towards him. Point is, since I’m starting to ramble, is that ultimately Whitley hasn’t done anything but hurt Weiss’s feelings, and him calling a doctor for Nora purely because Nora needs one feels like it might be enough to put Whitley in Weiss’ good graces, even if it raises some uncomfortable implications - that Weiss only extends her love and affection when Whitley does something she likes and can revoke it if he does something she doesn’t (like make a light joke).

On Whitley’s end, though, this scene is an absolute mess of an ending. At the end of Volume 7, Whitley is angry and resentful towards Weiss (and Winter) for abandoning him to abusive and neglectful parents, and then arresting Jacques, taking away his only source of attention and dealing a huge blow to their family’s status. In Volume 8, Weiss comes back, threatens him physically, dismisses his concerns, treats him like a child by sending him to his room, and leaves him alone again until he does something she likes. At no point does Weiss do anything that would make his attitude towards her shift to the better; in fact, she does things that should only further alienate him. Why is Whitley no longer mad at her? Because she gave him a hug? That doesn’t change that she still (from his point of view) abandoned him without a second thought, blamed him for things he didn’t do, threatened him with a weapon, forced him to harbor them, and then talked down to him and pushed him aside when she didn’t want to deal with him - abandoning him again. Weiss has done nothing to make Whitley any less resentful. She hasn’t acknowledged how she’s hurt him, they haven’t discussed why he was so hurt by her leaving, there’s been no attempt for the rift between them to be mended. Weiss just hugs him, and somehow that makes everything better. I didn’t realize that Whitley was so completely starved for affection that a hug makes him forget everything leading up to it - a hug that he initially backed away from.

He has his hands raised defensively, he starts backing away, and his expression is completely shocked. His posture is completely stiff, his arms falling to his side and hands clenching into fists. He’s clearly not comfortable with this initially, before giving in with a sigh and hugging Weiss back - giving in and giving Weiss what she wants.

Weiss is happy with him now, so Whitley can’t be upset. Weiss gives her approval, Whitley has been useful to her, so Whitley is “redeemed” in the eyes of the characters and the audience. What Whitley wants, what Whitley feels, what motivates Whitley? They don’t matter now that Weiss cares about him again. They aren’t discussed, they don’t continue to effect how Whitley acts and views Weiss, Weiss has forgiven him, so Whitley isn’t allowed to still be pissed with Weiss. Weiss didn’t have to do anything to reconcile with her brother, she doesn’t have to be humbled or acknowledge her own role in this dysfunctional relationship. She got to treat him with violence and like a child, and then hug him and act like everything is forgiven when by all reasonable logic, Whitley should be pushing her away, repeating that he didn’t do this for her and to back off.

Weiss didn’t work for this; Weiss didn’t earn this. Whitley’s own emotions and motivations were stripped away to let her get her brother on her side without her having to confront her own mistakes, because RWBY refuses to let its main girls make mistakes.

This isn’t the first time this has happened in RWBY, far from it. This isn’t even the only example of this happening with Whitley. Next episode and a few later, they do the exact same thing with Whitley and Willow! Whitley starts episode 8 rightfully pissed at his mother; she’s left him completely alone for two days straight to drink in her room, being less than useless, straight up neglectful. This anger carries on when she tries to call him, him turning to the door as the Hound approaches with anger. During the Hound attack, Willow grabs onto him, and he lets him. That makes sense, both of them were extremely frightened by this Grimm unlike anything they’d ever seen. What doesn’t make sense is that in episodes 11 and 12, Willow is still hanging onto him. I haven’t watched episode 11 for personal reasons (RWBY’s pissed me off), but I’ve seen the screenshots.

Willow’s holding onto him like she’s showing him off with pride. It’s a cute image - but why is Whitley allowing it? Why is Whitley not pulling away? Whitley was rightfully angry at his mother for neglecting him, for leaving him emotionally and mentally, right up until the Hound attack. Now, I know what you’re thinking; Willow saved his life. They killed the Hound together. Something like that, it can being people together. I agree - and I would even buy that being the spark for Whitley giving his mother another chance if there had been any kind of scene or even conversation on screen where we get to see this transition from rightfully anger at a drunk neglectful mother to a son giving a proud mother another chance at being his mother. It would have been incredibly easy to slip in, too! Like, and I’m just spitballing here -

Willow after the Hound is killed: Are you alright, Whitley?

Whitley: Oh, so you suddenly care. That’s nice to know.

Willow: I have always cared -

Whitley: Then you haven’t ever shown it! Whitley gets visibly angry. You’ve done nothing but leave me alone in this house with him while you drown yourself in your wine. You haven’t cared about me since I was 7 years old! Stop acting like you’re my mother! Whitley starts walking off.

Willow: Whitley - ! Willow reaches out for Whitley and stops him I - she deflates - You’re right. I have been a horrible mother. I’ve left you alone, all this time, and if I had been even slightly more drunk tonight, you might have been killed. ...I might have lost you for good, and it would have been my own fault. I’m sorry...

Whitley: He pauses, and falls silent.

Willow: ...Please. I almost lost you tonight, and I don’t want to lose you to something I can fix. Is there anything I can do? Can I... Can I get a chance?

Whitley: .....he turns back to Willow, taking a deep breath, and looks up at her. ...One chance. You can’t - You can’t fix all of this, but... Whitley looks away ...I’ve wanted you back for 9 years. I don’t want to lose you either if I might get you back.

Willow: Willow looks surprised, before giving him a weak smile and pulling him into a hug. Thank you, Whitley. And I am so, so proud of you.

Whitley: Whitley stiffens with surprise, looking at his mother with shock, but returns the shaky smile and hugs her back.

One minute for this conversation, and I would be completely on board with Whitley and Willow seeming to reconcile as well. The same goes with Weiss, except a longer conversation.

If Weiss and Whitley had had even one talk where they both admit their faults and failings, apologize to each other, and agree to try again, I would be all on board with this Schnee family reconciliation. As it is now, though, with how it’s been written in the show, neither Weiss nor Willow have had to work to repair their relationships with Whitley; Whitley’s anger has just been wiped away. They set up the potential for reconciliation between Weiss and Whitley, between Willow and Whitley, acknowledging why Whitley is angry with both of them, but rather than have any of the characters take that knowledge and use it to reach out to Whitley, the writers skip all of that and let the characters treat Whitley however they want until they end up reconciled with one act. A single summon is treated like it makes up for years of neglect. A single hug because Whitley was useful to Weiss is treated like it makes up for abandonment, disrespect, and threats of violence. They don’t, and the lack of respect the writers’ have for the emotions of a male abuse victim sickens me.

#rwby #rwby8 #whitley schnee #weiss schnee #willow schnee #man this got long

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years

Note

How would the main ten react to seeing their SO eat Carolin Reapers, or just in general food thats spicer then Satans asshole. I can imagine some would just be like "You masohist, why dont you go and lick lava?" and whom would have a little more respect of their SO but never let them cook anything were they say "Its not that spicy" because for them its nothing but for the skeles its hell on their tongue. Hope ya have a great day/night :D

Sans: he tries a pepper once. Just once. Sans will never trust anything you eat ever again

Papyrus: he can handle some spicy so papyrus doesn’t mind making dinner with the hot stuff every now and then. Nothing crazy though. Habaneros are about as far as he can go.

Star: he absolutely hates admitting defeat, so star will push through the pain each time he sees you eating some. He’s a good actor too so you have no idea he hates spice and is dying inside when you offer him some of your snacks. But he never refuses. You can’t find out

Honey: he also tries one of the peppers and finds that it isn’t too bad. But honey prefers sweet things so he won’t take you up on sharing very often. Honey winds up enjoying making sweets with a hint of spice. For some strange reason star never seems to steal those..

Red: he knows his limits and red isn’t interested in dusting any sooner than he needs too. Red won’t even kiss you if he knows you’ve just finished eating something spicy lol. Every time he sees a pepper, he winces in empathetic pain

Edge: back when fell undyne first started training him, she would have edge eat super spicy food so that he could control his expressions better. He HATES spice. If you ever cook, edge will always do a sniff check first and doesn’t care if that looks rude. His saftey is at risk here

Mal: he has a somewhat decent tolerance to spice due to living with cash. Plus mal enjoys the look of fear on others faces when you bite into a ghost pepper like an apple.

Cash: twinsies!! Cash also adores spicy!! You both share snacks and recipes all the time. Although after getting so used to having someone with the same tolerance, it gets really hard to tell when your food is too strong for the average man

Oak: please don’t offer him peppers. Like sans, oak was not made for the spicy life. But he’ll never turn down free food. He will cry and keep eating. So just don’t be cruel

Willow: he’s less tolerant to spicy than papyrus is, and willow has no problem refusing food as long as he knows someone is going to eat it. If you make him a spicy gift though, he will choke it down. Nobody can stop him

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #horrortale

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loganisanobody · 3 years

Text

Anxiety

I gasped, waking up suddenly on a cold, flat surface. I squinted at the light above me, glaring its cold fluorescence down into my face. I tried to move, but I found my wrists, ankles, and neck strapped down. My heartbeat and breathing only got faster.

I looked around, but there wasn’t much to look at. Besides the bright light above me, the room was dim, and besides me and the table, there was nothing else in the room. The walls were brick— large, white brick that had obviously had multiple coats of paint over the years. The floor and ceiling were concrete, the former littered with drag and paint marks and other wear and tear. There was a single door to my left, metal but under multiple coats of paint like the wall.

I turned back to struggling against my restraints, or at least the four that wouldn’t choke me.

My rattling must have alerted my kidnapper, because the door clicked, and I looked up to see it open, a smiling man walking inside.

“Ah, you’re awake!” He said, walking over to me.

I shrank away from him, tugging at my restraints still even as I stared at him.

He put on a dramatic pout. “Oh, no ‘good morning’ for me? Dear, dear. Someone should teach you more manners.” He shrugged and smiled. “Or, they should have. It doesn’t matter now.”

My heart skipped a beat. “W-what do you mean?”

His smile widened. “What I mean is it doesn’t matter. Your life doesn’t matter anymore. From this point on, you’re dead, or tainted.” He giggled.

At this point he looked down and dug into his lab coat pocket, pulling out a syringe.

His face slackened, looking more serious as he held the syringe up and started flicking it. I began to pull at my restraints in earnest, but then he took one hand and slammed my head down against the table, holding it there, though I was too dazed to fight back as he stuck the syringe in the crook of my neck, emptying its contents into my bloodstream.

By the time I had recovered, he had tossed the syringe aside with the sound of breaking glass and had started to undo my restraints.

I had enough presence of mind to lay still just long enough for him to undo all the restraints, then pushed him back and rolled off the other side of the table, scrambling for the door.

It was locked.

I heard laughter, and I spun, pressing my back against the door as the man stood on the other side of the room.

“Let me go!”

He laughed again. “Are you sure you want that?”

I hesitated. “W-what?”

“Are? You? Sure? You? Want? That?” he enunciated, stepping around the table.

I pushed my back painfully against the metal of the door, staring at him. “Y-yes. Let me go.”

He chuckled. “You don’t sound sure. You sound like what I just gave you is working. But alas, you don’t know what that means. And there we have the crux of the situation, don’t we? You don’t know what I just gave you. You don’t know what it will do to you, what it will make you do.”

My blood was rushing in my ears, and I was starting to feel lightheaded. He had stopped at the head of the table, or he would surely have made it to me by now.

“I… I don’t care. Just let me go.”

“You don’t? Not even about your boyfriend?”

Logan.

What if whatever he gave me makes me hurt Logan? Or kill him?

Suddenly my mind was filled with gruesome images of Logan hurt, dead, dying.

And the man smiled as if he knew exactly what I was seeing.

“You don’t want to hurt him, do you?”

“What did you do to me?!”

The man threw back his head and laughed.

Suddenly I couldn’t take it, the sound of his laughter. It was grating against every atom of my being.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Suddenly I was on the floor, curled up with my knees to my chest, my hands over my ears, my eyes squeezed shut. The light was too bright, the laughter too loud, my own clothes rough against my skin. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. Images of Logan in a pool of blood kept flashing into my mind.

And then, finally, it all faded away…

*****

Dragging myself into consciousness was like dragging myself through mud. No. Syrup. Molasses. Tar.

My head was pounding and every inch of my body ached.

I groaned and moved to adjust my limbs to try to alleviate some pain. In doing so, I noticed the solidness beneath me.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, and as I took in my surroundings, memories rushed back, stealing my breath.

I was laying on concrete, and before me was a white brick wall. Slowly, I sat up, looking around. There was no table, no broken glass. Just a few holes in the wall, and a door, and me.

I stood quickly and rushed to the door, rattling the doorknob in an attempt to open it, but it was locked, and the metal was solid.

I pounded against the door. “Let me out!” I cried. “Help! Somebody, please!”

I listened for some sort of response.

But the one I got was definitely not the one I wanted.

A soft hissing sounded from somewhere around me, and I spun, trying to find the source. Was he trying to poison me now? Gas me to death?

But then there was movement from the base of the wall, and I looked to see a snake slither its way out of one of the holes I had seen before.

I screamed.

And then they were pouring out of every hole, every shape and size and color, some dropping from holes in the ceiling I hadn’t noticed. I pressed myself against the door, watching in horror as they quickly filled the floor, sliding over each other and around my feet.

I didn’t dare move or scream again for fear of attracting their attention, but my breathing was growing quicker and quicker, and my blood was roaring in my ears.

And then the door opened, pushing me forward. I screamed as I fell into the snakes, covering my face as they hissed and swarmed around me.

But then someone was grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.

“Hey! Hey! Are you all right!” I finally heard, and I peeked out from behind my hands. It was bright, and I flinched, but I looked again and saw the blue uniform and the concerned face of a police officer.

I pulled my hands down further and looked around. I was outside, in what seemed to be the downtown of some city.

Then I saw the snakes again as they spilled out of the building, and I screamed.

“Hey, hey.” The police officer grabbed me and pulled my gaze up so I couldn’t see the snakes anymore. “It’s okay. They can’t hurt you, okay? We’re going to get you home. Can you tell us where home is?”

I couldn’t think, could barely process what he was saying. My breathing was still fast and shallow, and my heartbeat quick and loud.

“Home?” they said again, recapturing my attention.

“Home?” I repeated. “Um… yeah… it’s 1249 Willow Way… out in Camden?”

“Okay, we can find that. Now let’s get you in the car, okay? Over here…”

*****

I was on the couch at Logan’s apartment, trying to pay attention to the movie he had put on for us to watch.

But, of course, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I reached over, grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. “Logan?”

“Yes, Starlight?”

I flinched, ignoring his worried expression.

I got up so I could pace.

“I… I’m sorry but I… I can’t… I can’t keep waiting. I know it’s going to come eventually but you always said you admired how I’d go down fighting, so… here’s me going down fighting.” I took a deep breath. “I love you, Logan. But you know that. And it doesn’t matter, if you don’t love me, but I do. I love you so much. A-and I can contribute to this relationship, still. I-I mean… I know I don’t have a job right now, but if you would let me, I promise I could find one and I would work any job so we would never have to worry about food or rent or doctors’ appointments… A-and! I-I can make my hours whatever you want so I’m always home when you want me to be. And you can always pick the movie, or dinner, or-or…”

“Starlight…”

I shook my head. “And any time you want… you know… it. We can do it. It’s… fine.”

“Virgil, no.”

“I just want to make you happy, Logan! And I understand! I understand that the only thing that will make you happy is me leaving, but I can’t! I… I…”

“Virgil—”

“No! How am I supposed to make sure you stay happy if I leave?! How am I supposed to make sure the next guy doesn’t mess up, too? How do I make sure he doesn’t mess up worse? At least I can contribute! At least I don’t hurt you, right?”

Logan was standing now, reaching out for me, but I was backing up, nearly at the opposite wall.

“Oh, who am I kidding. Now that I say all this, it sounds so stupid. Why would anyone want to keep me? He was right. I’m just… tainted.”

There was a silence.

“Who.”

I looked up, realizing as my sight of Logan was blurry that I had started crying. “W-what?”

“Who told you that you were ‘tainted’?”

I slapped a hand over my mouth, realizing my mistake. Over the past few weeks, I had of course had to tell Logan about the snakes, but I had managed to not tell him about the man and his mysterious drug.

“No, no. Tell me,” Logan said, softly but sternly, reaching up and gently pulling my hand away.

Tears filled my eyes again. He took my hand, still in his, and slowly led me back over to the couch.

We sat in silence for a moment as I gathered myself.

“H-he… he was my kidnapper, I guess… I don’t know… I never saw who actually did the kidnapping. But he was there when I… woke up…”

I paused, but Logan didn’t push. He simply sat and rubbed a thumb over my knuckles soothingly.

“H-he said… He… He said…” I let out a sob, and Logan jumped to pull me into his arms, my head tucked into his chest. “He said my life didn’t matter anymore,” I choked out into his shirt. “That I would be dead or tainted.”

“Oh, Starlight…”

I let out another sob at the pet name.

“Is he the one that put you in with the snakes?” I shrugged. “Probably? But…”

“But?”

“He also… He also drugged me…”

Logan pulled back, looking at me with wide eyes. “He did what?”

I shrank back.

“No, no, Starlight. I’m not mad at you. I’m appalled at him. How dare he?” Logan gathered me in his arms again, holding me tighter than before. “What drug?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

Logan was silent, but he held me so tight it was starting to hurt. Somehow, I didn’t mind.

“I was so scared, Lo…” I whispered.

“I know, Virge. I know.” Logan laid a kiss in my hair, then rested his head on mine. “I know.”

#ts virgil #ts logan #analogical #human au #tw kidnapping #tw snakes #tw drugs #tw syringes

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hakutaichou · 3 years

Text

[CN] Main Story: Chapter 37 (Gavin Route)

⚠️ SPOILER AHEAD ⚠️

🚨 Warning: This post contains REALLY BIG spoiler from main story which some of them have not been released in JP, TW, Global, nor ASEAN servers. 🚨

A/N: “All Love Interest ANGST Route” takes place between Chapter 37-4 and Chapter 37-5.

Before read, please prepare a tissue and your HEART!!!

- Part 1 -

Northern Suburbs, temporary base for STF.

Days of natural disasters have raised the disaster prevention alert of Loveland City by several levels.

In order to deal with the doomsday, all countries in the world have established doomsday rescue operations headquarters, and jointly formulated a number of rescue policies.

The last issue of "Miracle Finder" is to record the scenes of these soldiers fighting against disasters in the doomsday.

The car stopped at the base station gate, and I got out of the car with camera crew.

In the empty wilderness, several special officers in white uniforms patrolled the surrounding area.

According to the forecast, a tornado is about to hit Loveland City, and the STF troops will be here to stop the crisis.

Minor: Brother, where did your commander go?

STF Officer : Commander is very busy, and has no time to see you.

Minor: Hey, we are...

MC: Hello, we have made an appointment for an interview, can you let us in?

The officer looked suspiciously at the press card hanging around my neck.

STF Officer: You are waiting here, I will confirm it.

Eli: She doesn't need to make an appointment.

STF Officer: Captain Eli!

Eli walked leisurely with his hands in his pockets, and nodded at me.

Eli: MC, long time no see.

He looked at the serious-faced officer again.

Eli: Do you know who she is?

The officer looked at me and then at Eli, with a suddenly realized expression.

STF Officer: Eh, she is Commander's...

I slapped awkwardly, blocked the officer's unfinished words first.

MC: If it is not convenient, let's go back first.

Eli: There is nothing inconvenient. By the way, do you need me to help you call Gavin?

MC: No need! I don't want to interfere with your actions.

Eli: Then don't bother, you are free.

Eli: However, according to forecasts, there will be less than five minutes before the tornado enters the area of the city.

Eli: You'd better shoot near here, don't get close to the edges of those wind barriers.

MC: I understand!

Eli's remarks made everyone start scrambling to set up shooting equipment.

The wind became louder and louder, and a large funnel-shaped cloud soon appeared on the horizon, so gloomy that almost covered the entire sky.

Minor: I heard that the central wind speed of a tornado can reach 200 meters per second, which means that it will blow us away with people and machines in five minutes...

Willow: Close your crow's mouth.

Minor: Hey, I haven't finished speaking yet. With Bro Gavin, there is nothing to worry about.

The film crew quickly set up the machine, ready to start filming the entire process of STF team repelling the tornado.

After a while, the circular wind barrier erected all around shook violently, the surrounding trees were rustling.

A thick black shadow appeared at the end of the horizon, hurriedly approaching here.

The tornado is coming.

Photographer: Producer, the wind and sand are too big, it is difficult for us to get close to shooting!

MC: Let me find a way.

I thought for a while and took out the portable DV machine from my bag.

Just now Eli has divided the safety range for us. As long as we do not exceed that range for shooting, there should be no problem.

The violent wind that came in on the verge of blowing in the gap made the gap bigger, many of the team members who were in the front were injured.

STF Officer: The wind is too strong, we can't approach from the inner wall!

Anxious shouts from the STF members came from afar, and everyone present couldn't help but grab their hearts.

A calm and cold voice came from the communicator.

Gavin: I will go.

It's Gavin.

I resisted the urge to scream, my eyes and the camera stared at the distant sky unblinkingly.

The shifted wind barrier was quickly pushed back to its original position by another strong wind, and returned to the array.

The wind weakened, the tornado gradually deviated from its path.

Everyone waited nervously, and a few minutes later, the shadow of the tornado disappeared without a trace on the horizon.

Photographer: Amazing!!

MC: Gavin, you are so handsome!

Several injured officers were quickly taken away by the resident doctor, and I nervously searched for Gavin on the court.

From a distance, I saw a familiar figure approaching me.

My eyes lit up, and I ran towards him without hesitation.

MC: Are you okay? Isn't it hurt?

A look of helplessness passed across Gavin's face, he stretched out his hand, help me straighten my hair.

MC: What you looked like just now...

"Gavin, you are so handsome!"

At some point, my hand accidentally pressed the play button of the video just recorded, and the sigh was recorded verbatim into the screen.

MC: …When editing, this sentence will be deleted.

A smile finally appeared on his stern face.

Gavin: Wait here, I’ll come to you later.

- Part 2 -

STF Officer A: When Commander was still tasked as B-7, we have heard his rumors.

STF Officer A: Whether it is natural or man-made disasters these days, we can survive it, thanks to his judgment and decision-making.

STF Officer B: Yes, everyone was injured in the last rescue. Thanks to Commander, the situation was stabilized and the casualties were avoided.

STF Officer B: …But after returning, he formulated more stringent training plan.

MC: I see...

MC: Is there any moment when Commander makes you feel particularly tender?

The young officer in front of me "umm" for seven full seconds, and finally shook his head.

STF Officer A: More like medical insurance, count it?

Gavin: You seem to be very free.

Gavin stood behind us at some point, his voice cold.

STF Officer A: Commander!

The two STF members who were still babbling a while ago immediately stood up, saluted to Gavin together.

MC: .....

I turned around with a guilty conscience and looked at Gavin in front of me. When I looked down, I noticed that his wrist under his cuff was wrapped in gauze several times.

He just left temporarily, so he should simply treat the wound.

The crowd scattered like birds and beasts, soon only I and Gavin were left.

Gavin: What happened just now?

MC: Well... I just want to interview STF's recent work routine.

Gavin: I'm not asking about that. Your actions just now were dangerous.

MC: I said hello to Eli, and confirmed that I was in the safe zone!

I vowed to raise my hand, swear in my ear. Gavin's serious expression finally eased a little.

Looking at Gavin, I remembered all the rumors I had heard from the officers, their respectful and scared look, I couldn't help but laugh.

Gavin: What are you laughing at?

MC: Nothing, I was thinking about the last issue of "Miracle Finder", would you like to give a personal interview as Commander...

MC: But I'm just kidding, if it bother you, forget it.

Gavin: It's not bother.

His gaze moved down, and he scanned the line of drafted titles on the open page of the notebook in my hand.

Gavin: "The Commander's outside and inside". Do you want to know the outside, or the inside?

I smiled awkwardly, and the corners of Gavin's lips raised slightly.

Minor: Bro Gavin! Are you OK!

A noisy voice came from behind, Gavin glanced back and frowned quickly.

I don't know when Minor ran over, but he was dragged out by Willow before he finished speaking.

After both of them left, the surrounding area became quiet again.

Gavin: It's too noisy here. Let's change place.

I nodded and walked out of the base with Gavin.

***

A whistling wind came from the sinkhole in the distance, and a shallow layer of rain accumulated on the ground, reflecting the clear night sky and a little bit of starlight.

I followed the arched ridge all the way forward and photographed the traces of the tornado, asking Gavin one after another.

MC: I listened to Eli...

MC: NW put all its forces into establishing an airtight underground base, and didn't join your joint rescue...

Gavin: They aren't upside down.

Gavin: As long as that day doesn't come, STF won't give up protecting everyone here.

His tone is very flat, but it makes people feel extremely reliable.

I thought about it, and re-adjusted the DV mode, aiming at Gavin.

MC: Next, I will start an official interview.

Gavin: …Why do you want to give me an interview.

MC: Because you are the Commander of STF, what you say is the most convincing.

This interview is a temporary motive. I was not prepared for the question, so I just asked what I thought.

MC: The first question: What is the most important thing for the commander at the moment?

Gavin: Protect everyone's safety, and prevent disasters from happening.

MC: The second question: The commander felt that in this situation, for every citizens, what is the most important thing?

Gavin: This is varies from person to another.

…This minimalist way of answering questions, it's really Gavin's style.

MC: The third question...

Suddenly, the flapping sound of bird wings interrupted my question, and large swarms of pigeons started to start from deep in the woods.

MC: That is...

Gavin raised his head, looking solemnly at the flock of white pigeons in the sky.

Gavin: The abnormal weather in the past few days has caused the magnetic field in the vicinity to be disordered, and the return route of the pigeons has also been affected.

In the deep night, the pigeon flock wandered anxiously over the woods, flapping its wings constantly, as if calling for the return of their companions.

However, after the tornado struck, many birds were injured or died, and white feathers were scattered everywhere on the ground.

Several faint calls came from the bushes not far away.

Gavin and I approached and found two injured pigeons

One of them was badly injured, and dying; the other was still struggling.

MC: Will they die?

Gavin didn't speak, and rescued the two pigeons from the strange orange bushes, with a little blood stained on their messy wings.

It seemed to be frightened, its body trembling, and the warning sound of "cooing" as soon as we approached.

MC: Great, it seems okay!

Gavin: Be careful, don't get hurt by them.

Gavin: This is a wild pigeon that has not been domesticated, and is very wary of humans.

Gavin avoided the beak pecked by the pigeon, picked it up and checked it.

Gavin: No injuries.

The pigeon struggled to escape from his palm.

MC: Do they continue to fly forward?

Gavin made a soft "Mm" sound.

Gavin untwisted the withered grass entangled in its ankles, and another small gust of wind rolled up in his palms, drying its wet wings.

Gavin: If the wings are not wet, the flight home can be easier.

Its eyes rolled steadily, as if understanding the intention of Gavin, obediently gave up the struggle.

Perhaps after waiting too long, the group hovering in the sky gradually moved away, flying behind the invisible gray sky.

MC: Can this pigeon find its friends?

Gavin: Difficult.

MC: I see...

Gavin seemed to notice my loss, and changed his words.

Gavin: But it is not impossible.

Gavin: The migration of pigeon, is actually a story about commitment.

MC: Committed?

Gavin: Fulfill their promise to go back.

Gavin: No matter how far you fly, you will definitely arrive where you want to fly as scheduled.

The pigeon in his palm seemed to sense Gavin's words and tried to wave its wings again.

The small gust of wind gradually increased, escorting this child to the sky.

Soon, it struggling to flap its wings forward, disappearing into the night sky and the end of the stars.

MC: In fact, whether it is them or the wind, they all know their direction.

MC: Even if it takes a long time to walk, even if it will go away, it will not stop.

MC: Is that right?

Gavin didn't speak, but gently held my hand.

At this time, a few STF members came towards us, saluted to Gavin, and solemnly reported the situation of the other bases.

Gavin's face was always calm, as if no matter what kind of danger he encountered, he would not have the slightest panic.

MC: Is there another task?

I couldn't help but whisper to Eli, who was beside me, and he nodded.

Eli: I heard that there was a violent conflict in the city, and the situation is not very optimistic. They have to come to support tonight.

MC: I see... thank you very much.

Eli: Don't worry, Gavin will stay in Loveland City to lead. He is the backbone of all of us.

I'm a little embarrassed to be guessed by Eli.

Eli: But we have to rush to deal with a flood tonight. The disaster is dangerous, so you can't follow.

MC: I know, you guys must come back safely.

The bonfire ignited at the distant base dispelled the darkness, and the constantly rising tongue of fire brightened the night sky red, and occasionally there were a few crisp clashes of wine glasses and laughter.

This temporary celebration and happiness seem extremely precious on such a night.

I involuntarily rubbed my palms tightly, and some hope that the "moment" in that prophecy would come soon.

No matter where I go or what I experience, it would be great if I could reverse the ending.

After the officers reported, Eli stepped forward and said something to Gavin, patted him on the shoulder, and suddenly looked at me again.

Eli: I'll leave first, and meet again later, the young couple get along well.

Eli left after speaking, waved goodbye to me before leaving.

There was a brief silence all around, only cheers from afar broke the silence between us.

MC: Are you leaving now?

Gavin: Mm, we will leave in two hours.

I stepped forward, took his hand gently, and sat down on a rock.

The wind in the wilderness is blowing on the long stretch of grass in the distance, and there is a green smell in the darkness that fluctuates with the night.

MC: Then you need a good rest now.

MC: I wonder if Mr. Commander, who has been busy all day, is willing to agree to my request.

Gavin: Can I take a rest?

I was stunned by him, after a few seconds, I didn't expect Gavin was directly rest on my knee.

Gavin: Thank you for coming.

MC: ...You're welcome.

I opened my mouth again, trying to remedy my stupid answer, but Gavin had already closed my eyes.

For a long time, long and even breathing sounded from my knees.

This land is shrouded in night and cold, but my heart is very bright and warm at this moment.

I gently stroked his finally showing tired eyebrows, my heart soft.

MC: Thank you for the hard work, Gavin.

I hope you can also have a good dream.

- Part 3 -

In the vast expanse of the universe, a swarm of comets quickly fell to the blue planet.

Cities, forests, mountains, rivers and oceans were all engulfed by heat waves and tongues of fire, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

It seems that I am the only one left in the whole world, and the stars gradually shrink, hitting my heart like a burning bullet hitting the bullseye---

I woke up from the nightmare and took a deep breath.

Gavin: Woke up?

MC: I'm sorry... I fell asleep too.

I raised my head, met Gavin's worried eyes.

Gavin: Had a nightmare?

MC: Not a manifest dream, but a sweet dream.

MC: I dreamt that we became super cosmic warriors, saving the world from the brink of destruction.

I cheered up, and made a joke pretending to be relaxed.

Gavin: It seems that dream should be kept longer, it is best not to wake up.

He sighed, and gathered the jacket over me again.

There are footsteps approaching behind him.

When Gavin got up, the officer came over and whispered something to Gavin.

I was stunned, and quickly reacted: He is going to the next temporary base to command the mission.

MC: Are you leaving soon?

Gavin: There are still ten minutes left.

MC: Then I have one last question to interview you.

I turned around, fixedly looked at Gavin.

MC: Before the end, what is your wish?

Gavin: ...My wish?

MC: This is the question I want to ask you, so you can answer me alone.

MC: I have interviewed many people these days, and heard many people’s wishes, but I haven't had a chance to ask your wishes.

MC: I want to know what Gavin's wish is.

Gavin's expression was a little surprised, and he didn't speak for a long time.

Perhaps, this question is too vain and slow, he never put his wishes on unrealistic things.

???: Look, there are meteors!

The cheers of the crowd came from far behind, and Gavin and I raised our heads together.

The sky was passing by a meteor, dragging a bright trail, from loneliness to grandeur.

Under this bright and grand light, everything becomes small and quiet.

MC: Beautiful...

The falling trajectory of the meteor is long and narrow in the night sky.

The ubiquitous light illuminates the mountains and valleys in the distance, the river at the end of the horizon, and the city.

It also illuminates every face looking up on the earth.

Gavin suddenly grabbed my hand, his voice was very soft.

Gavin: When I was seventeen, I did have a wish.

Suddenly a large swarm of snow-white flew across the sky.

The flying dove in the dark night fluttered its wings and dropped a large piece of white feathers, drowning his voice.

I looked up in a different place, saw his star-lit eyes, and wanted to ask him what it was.

He looked at me with a deep retention and sadness. I always felt, that there were many emotions that I didn't understand.

In a second of distraction, I almost blurted out if he knew that I was going to leave.

But I didn't have the courage to speak up to verify this conjecture.

I grabbed his hand and tried to make a smile.

MC: I used to see meteors and could only think of wishing. I didn't expect that one day the meteors would actually destroy the world.

Gavin: Are you scared?

I shook my head.

MC: In fact, as long as I'm by your side, I'm not afraid at all.

Gavin lowered his head and put the kiss on our folded hands.

Gavin: I promise you.

Gavin: I won't leave you, until the last moment.

I heard his heartbeat on his chest, closed my eyes, and silently made a vow to the meteor.

May the world never end.

May he always be by my side.

- Part 4 -

The news broadcast the arrival time of the X1917 comet cluster, as expected, without any change.

As a commander, Gavin became more and more busy, and the occasional time together became exceptionally short.

Today, the STF is holding a major meeting.

Those present were all commanders from various countries' combat headquarters participating in this joint doomsday rescue.

After the meeting, I put down the interview draft and couldn't help but look at the meeting room.

Gavin came out last, and he was talking to a foreign man with a high nose and deep eyes.

The man seemed to notice me waiting on the side, he turned to me, his face stretched.

Foreign Commander: Eh, you are the producer. I have watched your show, Miracle Finder, which is great.

He gave me a thumbs up.

MC: ...Thank you!

I can't fully understand their small talk. I can only vaguely hear the commander's admiration and gratitude to Gavin.

After the conversation, he saluted to Gavin, and then left with his men.

I couldn't wait to walk to Gavin, wanting to open my mouth, but hesitated again.

The news specially told him today, perhaps compared with the important news he comes into contact with every day, is nothing at all.

Gavin: What's wrong?

MC: Gavin, I have good news for you.

MC: After the previous program was broadcast, some citizens contacted us and wanted to send you a loving lunch, medical supplies, and...

I counted the enthusiastic letters I received these days with my fingers. He listened carefully, his lips curled up unconsciously.

Gavin: STF doesn't need these for the time being, but it can be sent to disaster areas with more dangerous conditions.

Gavin: You can figure it out. I'll give you some addresses later.

MC: Okay!

Gavin's gaze flickered slightly, as if he had to say something, the communicator on his waist ticked.

Gavin: ...Wait for me.

MC: It's okay, go ahead.

I cheered up and bid farewell to Gavin, but the loss of separation was still unstoppable in my heart.

I let out a sigh of relief and began to think about how to arrange these supplies.

This time we are, fighting side by side with all mankind.

***

The last day of the countdown.

The days of waiting regretfully finally arrived, but it seemed to be no different from usual.

MC: How is the situation today?

STF Officer A: There were no casualties, and damaged communications and traffic are slowly recovering.

STF Officer B: That's right, Commander was not injured, so Sister-In-Law, don't worry.

MC: ...Okay.

While chatting, I looked around for Gavin's figures.

Soon, a figure dangled from behind the door of the headquarters.

Gavin, who had changed his uniform, walked towards me, the cuffs of the gray jacket were slightly rolled up, revealing a strong wrist.

At the moment when my eyes were facing each other, Gavin had already walked to me, and I was stunned for a second.

I raised my head and looked at him, as if I had guessed something in my heart.

Gavin: Come?

MC: You, there are no tasks today?

Gavin: I took half a day off.

MC: Eh....?

Gavin: I'll accompany you out for a walk.

Behind him, the whistle and the confession sounded one after another, Gavin faintly swept back, and the group of people suddenly made noise again.

MC: Is it really okay? I think it’s good to stay here...

Gavin took my hand and walked out. I turned around a little hesitantly, afraid that he would waste too much time.

Unexpectedly, Eli also waved at me and made a "rest assured" mouth shape.

Gavin: Leave them alone.

MC: I don't know why, but now I always have a feeling of occupying major public resources.

The corners of Gavin's mouth twitched slightly, and he looked at me helplessly, sighed.

Gavin: Can't the Commander go on a date after get off work.

He stood still in front of me, a little serious in his amber eyes.

Gavin: What stands in front of you now, it's Gavin that belongs to you only.

***

There was no one on the street, and the few shadows of trees stretched to the end of the empty road.

We unknowingly walked to the vicinity of Loveland High School and ate the last bowl of noodles at the still-open Lynn's Kitchen.

A live interview of STF to fight off the tornado is being broadcast on TV, and the boss exclaims while watching.

Boss: Did you really repel the tornado?

Gavin: Some news likes to exaggerate, you don't have to believe it.

MC: Gavin, this was taken by me.

Gavin: …Hmm, it was repelled.

Boss: Add more beef for you. Do you want other side dishes?

MC: I want it!

Gavin: Are you sure you can eat it?

MC: I'm able to eat it!

Gavin put down his chopsticks, looked at the side dishes on the table and the pile of beef in the bowl, he expressed doubts to me with his eyes.

MC: Is this a new flavor of noodles? It seems that I have never eaten it before.

Boss: Did little girl eat it? I updated the recipe of the soup. How does it taste?

MC: Super invincible and delicious!

Boss: That's good.

Boss: There are too many things that have been missed in a lifetime, and it's not worth beating.

Boss: However, it is still a pity that more people haven't tasted this bowl of noodles.

Boss: Thank you for finishing it.

***

MC: I'm so full...!

Gavin: You ate all the side dishes the boss gave.

MC: Because I don’t want to be a starving ghost...

Gavin: Nonsense.

Gavin gently knocked on my forehead, his eyes turned to the school gate across the road, his expression suddenly softened.

Gavin: You saved a cat here.

MC: You have beaten a few people here.

Gavin laughed.

Unexpectedly the school door closed tightly. Gavin noticed the loss on my face and patted my shoulder lightly.

Gavin: Do you want to go elsewhere?

MC: What a pity... I still want to go back and have a look.

MC: Wait, I get it!

***

Gavin: Are you sure you want to do this?

MC: No one, is afraid of anything!

With Gavin's help, I finally climbed the outer wall of the back door of the school.

MC: I wanted to do this a long time ago.

I clapped my hands, turned my head, Gavin was still standing under the wall, looking at me with a little speechless and a little funny.

MC: It doesn't matter, there is no one in the security room and no one in the school building. Come up soon.

Gavin touched his lips, with an expression of defeat by me.

He easily climbed up the wall and sat down beside me.

Gavin: Ready?

He seemed to see my hesitation and looked at me holding back a smile.

Gavin: I will count down for you?

This is the end of the matter, regret is useless. I took a deep breath and slowly released the fingers that were holding behind me.

Gavin: Three, two---

Before "One" hasn’t shouted out, I subconsciously let go of my hand because of tension, and my falling body was quickly surrounded by a gust of wind.

The violent heartbeat hit the tympanic membrane, and we landed safely on the ground.

MC: I didn't seem to have eaten so much just now.

Gavin: Can't walk anymore?

MC: ...I'm afraid you won't be able to hold it.

Gavin: Hold tight.

As if to verify this sentence, his hand pierced my knees and hugged me to the direction of the school building.

MC: But like this...!!

Gavin gently raised the corners of her lips.

Gavin: No one, is afraid of anything.

***

We came to Gavin's classroom.

The classroom door was not locked. I turned on the light, saw that the writing on the blackboard had not been cleaned.

MC: Gavin, which table is yours?

Gavin was a little surprised. He looked around and pointed to the back of the classroom by the window.

Gavin: There.

MC: Is this one?

I walked to the back of the classroom and stared curiously at the graffiti on this table.

MC: "Early" was carved upside down on the table,... I can't tell that you are quite easy to learn.

Gavin: …It’s the back one.

I followed Gavin's gaze and looked back. A desk was in the corner next to the wall.

MC: But after so many years, It must have changed many seats, and the table may not be this one.

I took the opportunity to sit down in the seat where Gavin had been, and looked around.

MC: Um... the vision from the blackboard is not very good.

MC: But the ventilation is good, it should be comfortable to sleep here in the afternoon.

I don't know if it was because of listening to my serious comments, there was a sporadic smile on his lips.

Gavin: Why are you talking about that suddenly?

MC: I told you before, we organized ordinary citizens and Evolver to build a wishing wall.

MC: I thought I would see a lot of fanciful and weird wishes, but after seeing it, I realized that this was not the case.

MC: "I want to eat hot pot for the last time", "Reunion with my family", "I want to reconcile with the lover who broke up"...

MC: That’s why I realized, everyone’s strongest wish is, actually a regret that has not been realized.

MC: That's why...

I want to make up for these regrets.

We left the classroom, and walked down the stairs. The sound of different footsteps echoed in the dim staircase.

Gavin: Are you scared?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: I remember many horror legends circulated in schools.

He slowed down as he spoke, always keeping a step away from me in front of him.

I hesitated for a moment and wanted to tell Gavin that I was not afraid.

In other words, I'm more afraid that the road under my feet will be finished soon than I'm afraid of these stories.

I hope the stairs below my feet can be longer, preferably without end.

MC: .....Gavin.

I stood on the edge of the steps, turned my head, and could not help calling his name.

A repressed impulse, drove me to do something.

He stood on a step lower than me, stopped, and looked at me with some doubts.

The few rays of light that leaked out of the window fell between us, cutting light and dark apart.

This light is like a crease, and I stand in front of him now, as if witnessing the folding of the years that have separated us.

Gavin: I know what you want to say.

His voice was lightened for an instant, with a sure smile.

The next second, he bent down, clasped my chin, and kissed me.

- Part 5-

The dim lights on both sides of the road passed through the dense leaves, scattered on the ground.

The library didn’t open, Gavin and I were strolling around the empty campus.

There seemed to be a warm touch remaining on the lips, I looked away pretending to be calm, always embarrassed to meet Gavin's gaze.

The bell rang in the distance, and the ginkgo leaves rustled down.

For a time, none of us spoke.

The meteors in the sky are getting denser, and my heart is beating faster and faster.

An uneasy premonition told me, that moment was approaching.

MC: Although shooting stars can be seen every day, it seems that many wishes are too late.

I pretended to smile with ease, breaking the deadlock between us. Gavin seemed to perceive something, and his amber-colored eyes looked at me.

Gavin: MC, You haven't finished what you just said.

Gavin: You keep asking about my wishes, what about yours?

MC: My wish...

My voice couldn't help but stop.

The ginkgo leaves on the branches are crumbling, and some are knocking on the windows of the school building behind them.

These leaves rustle on the branches in summer, and they creak when they fall in autumn. Every leaf makes a nice sound, but I have never noticed it.

I suddenly knew what my wish was.

I want to walk slowly at the school gate before the class bell rings.

I want to look up in the library and take a good look at the teenager sleeping opposite me.

I want to catch the wind at the age of seventeen, and say goodbye to him before the ginkgo leaves fall.

I looked up at Gavin, suddenly I wanted to cry.

MC: What if my wish will never come true?

Gavin was taken aback, for a long time, he rubbed the top of my head.

Gavin: Then go ahead.

Gavin: The wish that may not be reached now, but if you come back one day, it's already by your side.

I took a deep breath and grabbed his hand.

MC: Gavin, I am going to do something very important now.

MC: I kept busying myself a few days ago, thinking that if I didn't think about it, I wouldn't be sad until that time.

MC: But now I want to thank you, you gave me the courage to face it.

I felt like crying, but still managed to squeeze a smile.

MC: I'm leaving.

Gavin was silent, he gently stretched out his hand and stroked my face.

Gavin: I seem to be very bad at saying goodbye, and I have never been able to say goodbye to you every time.

Gavin didn't ask why or where I was going. He seemed to have known about this a long time ago.

Just hugged my arm hard and hot, as if to hold something at the last moment.

MC: This time it's my turn to say goodbye to you.

MC: We have experienced so many things, so this time is nothing.

I feel my body is getting lighter and lighter, and my limbs are gradually losing consciousness.

Perhaps that moment has come, my mind is getting harder and harder to concentrate, only vaguely seeing deeper and deeper sadness in my eyes.

MC: You told me...

MC: Regardless of the wind, the pigeon has its own direction, and I think I should do the same.

MC: But I am a person who has no sense of direction. I may go the wrong way and it will take a long time to get back to you...

Tears still fell unconvincingly, I sucked my mouth and wanted to speak again, but Gavin interrupted my words firmly.

Gavin: It doesn't matter if you go the wrong way.

Gavin: It doesn't matter if you come late.

Gavin: When I was seventeen, you let me know the direction of the wind.

Gavin: So it’s the same for you, just walk in your direction, no matter where you lead...

Gavin: My wish, is to meet you.

The white light was like a trickle, slowly seeping from the girl's body, illuminating the whole night.

MC: When the time comes, please correct my direction.

Feathers fluttered slowly from the girl's body.

The sky seemed to show a gleam of light, and the wine fell on the white feathers piled up under the girl's feet.

Gavin stood there quietly for a long time, his eyes always on the place where the girl disappeared.

He looked at the feathers scattered on the ground and the ginkgo that was blown away by the wind, his lips moved slightly and his hands slowly dropped.

The clear and distant "ding dong" echoed in the empty campus---

The bell rang after class.

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