#fall home decor bargains
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I see the way you look at her.
Pairings: Peeta Mellark X Reader
Warnings: Y/N uses she/her pronouns, talk of cheating, talk of murder and death.
Author’s Note: Y/N is kind of a dick in this but that’s so slay purr for her
Summary: Peeta returns to District 12 after the 74th Annual Hunger Games to a girlfriend who wants nothing to do with him.
The air in District 12 was thick with tension as the Reaping day unfolded, casting a shadow over the usually quiet town. The nervous energy in the square was palpable, each child from from age 12 to 18 lined up as though they were being put to death by firing squad. In a strange way, they were. Dressed in their finest garments, the kind that they would be proud to have on television, yet praying that their names were never called.
Y/N’s name was in the bowl 20 times this year. 15 as tesserae, for the grain and oil her family so dearly needed to survive, and the rest for the age she’d turned earlier that year. There were boys with twice as many in the other bowl. Her neighbour, Gale, at 18 years old, had his name in 42.
Yet, with only 5 slips of paper, Peeta Mellark was called. His eyes bore into hers as tears threatened to fall. She watched him hug Effie Trinket, clad in her Capitol Extravagance. Katniss Everdeen, the girl she’d played with since youth, stood with him.
Truthfully, she’d moved on from the shock that her lover was going to die quite quickly. He certainly was more likeable than the rest of the tributes, But there was not enough money in the entirety of District 12 to provide the sponsorships he would need to stay alive. Peeta was strong in build, but would never be able to hurt someone, let alone to the point of murder.
She sat with a group of girls in the square, watching Caesar Flickerman on the large screen.
"Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember.” Peeta says, “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping."
Furrowed brow, she listened intently to his words. Who else would he be talking about, if not his own girlfriend? If not herself.
“She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.
“I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta.
Alice Walker, one of the girls who sat with Y/N, turns to look. “Thought you an’ him were going steady?”
“We are.” She replies—confusion as to why he was talking about her as though she were someone else.
She turns back to face the screen. Eyes trained on Peeta, looking the same as ever - only cleaner and in nicer clothes. He still wore the silver ring she’d bargained for at the market. His 15th birthday gift - She had put her name in the reaping another time to afford it.
“So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?"
“I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning...won’t help in my case," says Peeta.
“Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.
"Because...because...she came here with me.”
From the moment of Peeta’s admission, she secretly hoped that he’d die in the games. As much as she wanted him to come back alive so that she could kill him herself, she also wanted nothing more than to see him suffer.
Everything she’d done for him. Everything she’d been put through for him. All for him to be in love with Katniss Everdeen. She stopped watching the games after that.
That didn’t mean she didn’t hear all about District 12’s star-crossed lovers and how they won the Hunger Games by means of their love. She stayed far away from the train station, and its once-dull platform, now adorned with makeshift decorations crafted from whatever materials the citizens could salvage. She stayed far away from his family’s bakery, and his shiny new home in Victor’s Village. She stayed far away from any place where the boy could find her. But, that did not mean that he did not try.
Katniss once spoke to her in the woods, explaining that it was all a rouse for the Capitol. Y/N only believed it because Gale had told her the same thing before. Katniss pleaded with her to speak to Peeta and allow him to explain. If not for her own sake, then for his. “I can’t even look at him Y/N. But he shouldn’t be alone right now”
She wondered how a victor of The Hunger Games could be so desperate for company.
It took a lot of her pride to walk to Victor’s Village that night. The air was crisp, and the stars overhead seemed to bear witness to the storm of emotions raging within her. Unable to quell the turmoil in her heart, she found herself standing outside Peeta’s home.
It was the first time that she’d seen him. A glimpse through the front window into the warmly lit kitchen. He was baking again, decorating a cake, much like he would have been before the games. Except now, he was thinner, his eyes more sunken, hands shaking as they pressed fruit into icing.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the door. Knocking gently, the sound echoed through the quiet night.
"Y/N," Peeta said, his voice soft with a hint of regret. "I didn't expect you."
She met his gaze, searching for answers. "We should talk."
He nodded, stepping aside to let her in. The air inside was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, a familiar comfort that felt oddly out of place given the current circumstances.
They settled in the living room. The fire roared, illuminating the large room in an orange glow. The walls of the ground floor were taller than the height of her entire house. And one of the multiple sofa suites was bigger than the bed her brother slept on. There was more luxury in a singular room than in any 5 buildings in the seam.
She sat, conscious of the room she was taking up. It felt like she would be whipped for even being near. Peeta sat more comfortably, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. The girl took a deep breath, ”How are you?”
“Where have you been?” Peeta interrupts, “I’ve been looking for you since I returned.”
“Can you blame me?”
Peeta hesitates a moment. “No.” He admits, hands wringing together, “It was for show, Y/N. For the cameras and the Capitol.”
A curt nod. Her expression remained stoic as she processed Peeta's words. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, the crackling fire doing little to dispel the cold atmosphere that had settled between them.
"For show," she repeated, her voice flat. "So, all of it—the love, the sacrifice, the pain—it was all just a performance?"
Peeta looked pained, his eyes desperately searching for understanding in hers. "Yes, entirely. Katniss and I, we played along to survive. It was the only way."
“It was not the only way.”
“I never wanted it to be like this.”
“You could’ve fought. You could have-”
“I couldn’t kill her. And I couldn’t watch her die.” Peeta interrupts.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “But you could lead the careers right to her.” She deadpans, “And you did do that, by the way”
His shoulders slumped, guilt written across his face. "I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted us both to make it out alive. But they wanted a love story, and we had to give it to them."
“You don't get it, Peeta. You don't get what it's like to watch the person you love be in love with someone else, pretend or not.” Y/N shook her head, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "It was so embarrassing to hear about your 'epic love story' broadcast to the entire nation. Have people question me every single day about what happened between us.”
Peeta scoffs, standing up from his seat and pacing to the far corner of the living room. His hand rubbing his face, he forces out a laugh at her words.
“You had some uncomfortable questions forced your way, Y/N” He starts, “I was reaped for The Hunger Games. They are not the same.”
The room falls silent, save for the roar of the fire and the gentle hum of the lights.
“I did what I did, not to stay alive.”Peeta admits, “I couldn’t care less if I died in there, My family wouldn’t either-”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. But that’s not my point.” He breathes, “I needed to stay alive so that I could come back to you.”
Y/N remained seated, her eyes fixed on Peeta as he spoke. He turned to face her, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I needed to survive, not for the Capitol, not for the cameras, but for us. I wanted to come back to District 12, to you.”
She couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice, but the wounds ran deep. Having spent the latter half of the last 5 months hating his guts, she couldn’t forgive him easily. Hearing that he’d done it for her only made her feelings more scrambled.
"Love is more than a performance, Peeta. It's more than a show for the Capitol.”
He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I thought we had a better chance of making it out together than I ever would have alone.”
“But now you’re in it for life. After your victory tour, do you seriously just expect that you’ll be able to just ‘break up’? People who have suffered together like the pair of you have, don’t just call it quits.”
“We’ll figure it out, I just need time.”
Y/N leans back in her chair, eyes still trained on the broken boy before her. She tears them away to try and stop the tears that threaten to fall. “I saw the way you looked at her.” She admits. “I understand that you went through a lot together, but- But, you never looked at me like that.”
Peeta's eyes, full of remorse, met hers. He reached out, as if to touch her hand, but hesitated, fingers hovering in the air.
"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "But in that arena, survival seemed like the only option. It was never about choosing her over you."
He lowered his hand. "I know I messed up. I can't change the past, but I want to make things right, Y/N. I want a chance to prove that I can be the person you need."
She shook her head, a mixture of frustration and sadness in her eyes. “I think you need time to figure it out by yourself, Peeta”
"Give me time," he pleaded. "But give me time to figure it out with you.”
The room hung heavy with silence, the fire that danced in the hearth was slowly dying. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, as Y/N distanced herself from him, each footstep on the plush carpet seemed to amplify the quiet.
“I should go,” she says.
“Please don’t.” He begs.
Y/N hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob. She wanted to turn around, to look into Peeta's eyes and find a glimmer of the person she had once loved. Yet, the fear of more disappointment held her back.
"I need time, Peeta," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, “We both need time. Alone.”
Peeta remained silent, watching her silhouette against the doorway, his expression a portrait of heartache. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but he didn’t.
“If you love someone, let them go.” He whispers, allowing her to open the door and walk down the snow-covered stairs. The hinges closed with a soft thud, and Peeta was left alone.
#applcrumbl#writing#the hunger games#peeta mellark#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark imagine#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta mellark angst#angst#peeta mellark smut
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Garrick and maybe some Christmas time fluff or a little more
Also xaden x rider idea. Their dragons are bonded mates but not super major to the idea of story. Riders allowed to each have one pet if they choose. Reader has a black cat that loves to chase xadens shadows
Christmas lights
"Be ready at six", that's all Garrick had told you as you two passed through one another in the hall. The past couple of weeks had been so extreme. Constant running around. Barely no time for one another. But it was for a good cause. At least you kept on telling that to yourself. Just some days it got harder and harder to believe it. Yes, the revolution was coming around nicely but it had practically made you forget what having a boyfriend felt like.
You had slipped from one of the meetings you were meant to attend to shower, try to at least look somewhat presentable. That turned just into you washing some of the tiredness away from your face. Yet when it came to getting ready all you managed to do was throw your hair up and pull on one of Garrick's hoodies over your body. Now that the weather was finally reaching below zero, you needed these extra layers.
"You ready?", your boyfriend's voice made you jump slightly as you turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. "How long have you been here?", you asked, rubbing a hand over your face. "Ever since you decided to have a staring competition with our dresser", he chuckled slightly, pushing away from the frame, "If you just want to lay in bed, you let me know". Yet something in his tone made it obvious clear that he had plans already made. And you too hadn't done anything together in so long... "I can do anything but training right now", you muttered, letting out a satisfied huff as Garrick pulled you into his embrace, his warmth instantly flowing through your body. "No training, no dragon riding, love", Garrick muttered against the crown of your head before kissing it tenderly.
You had forgotten how much you enjoyed the crisp coldness at this time of the year. And within minutes of walking, you already felt more like yourself. Your head felt lighter and having Garrick right by your side without doubt was the biggest plus. But then you had halted. Right as the lower city streets came into view.
"No", you muttered, pulling at Garrick's hand. "Yes, baby, yes indeed". He had a smug smile on his face, that could only mean one thing. "You knew about this?", you breathed out, stepping further into the light-up street. It's been so long since anyone had decorated for Christmas. A thing here or there at home. But the Riorson house had been bland for years but this... "I saw it yesterday on my way back", Garrick breathed out, "And since you needed a little bit of cheering up", his voice trailed off as he pulled you along.
It wasn't how it usually was back when you were children yet it felt even more special somehow. The lights hung all across the street, with dragon-shaped colorful cutouts. The smell of pancakes and hot chocolate all over. "This is so pretty", you breathed out as you tilted your head up to take in an even more pleasant view. And then you felt it. A cold fluff landing on the tip of your nose. "Did you bargain with someone for snow?", you chuckled, looking at the white cotton clouds falling around. "Yeah, Bodhi is on the rooftop running an ice machine", Garrick chuckled with you following right back.
He had managed to find a less busy corner for you to sit in and even if Garrick wasn't big on affection outside your shared room you were nestled right against his chest, with his jacket wrapped around your sides as you sipped on your hot chocolate. Extra cream and sprinkles became only the best for his girl. He of course had none, besides a couple of sips he stole from your cup because he had to be in shape. Which was bullshit because the guy was practically a walking statue of chiseled muscle.
You felt another kiss on your temple as Garrick snuck his arms around your torso. "Are you having fun?", he muttered quietly as if after to disturb a perfect silence. "More than happy", you muttered, "But then I'm always happy when I'm with you". Reaching up you cupped his cheek lovingly. "I feel shit that we have been slipping apart", he breathed out, making your whole body stiffen. "We haven't been slipping apart. We just...", you halted for a moment, "Well, prioritized everything else over us". No way was this both of your fault so the fact that Garrick was out here carrying the blame for it. "And that shit doesn't sit well with me", he nestled his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. "Happens when you're a part of a revolution", you muttered back, turning as much as you could so you could kiss his head. "We need to set up date nights, then I could tell everyone to fuck off", you chuckled at his words, "Xaden and Bodhi would pay to see that". Garrick snickered slightly even if he tried to hide it, "Should mind their business these two", but then within a heartbeat added, "I do owe it to Xaden because he's covering my shift for me now".
You twirled back almost immediately, "You switched duties to go here... with me...", you shouldn't have sounded so surprised. Garrick had already made you his priority but... it had been so long and... "My baby deserved to be the first to experience Christmas joy", he cupped your face lovingly, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. "Plus, he owns me. He has needs when it comes to Violet", "Spare me from the details, love", you breathed out covering his mouth with your palm.
#garrick#garrick tavis#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis x you#garrick tavis imagine#garrick tavis fourth wing#garrick tavis iron flame#garrick iron flame x reader#garrick fourth wing x readee#fourth wing imagine#fourth wing x reader#iron flame x reader#iron flame imagine
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Me & You & Everyone We Know | 12 | S.R
Not my gif
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Chapter Summary - Spencer and Maeve get into a heated argument moments before Daisy’s birthday party in which Spencer is finally forced to face his real feelings over his ex. You overhear more than you bargained for.
A/N - I don’t know if it was ever stated how old the Simmons kids were, if it was I certainly wasn’t paying attention. This was a guess.
Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.
Warnings - swearing, drinking, talk of cheating, arguing, confessed feelings, overheard conversations, tears, drunk Spencer, vomit, mommy JJ to the rescue.
WC - 5.8k
Chapter 12 - Let it Hurt
Seven forty two in the morning,
Eight seconds before it all sinks in.
Put your best face on for the world,
Fake another smile and just pretend.
But you're just puttin' off the pain,
Nothing's ever really gonna change.
Spencer arrived at Rossi’s early and spent the entire morning slaving over decorations and readying the house for the onslaught of teenagers due to descend upon Rossi’s pristine mansion this afternoon.
He was exhausted before the party even started.
He hung banners and streamers from almost every inch of the ceiling. He set up a large table that took up most of his yard with food and paper plates.
Rossi restocked his fridge with soda bottles from the garage and beers and wine for the adults.
Spencer wrapped a ridiculous amount of presents, the divorced parent guilt making him spend an exuberant amount of money on his eldest daughter.
JJ arrived a few hours before the party and rewrapped them all as she told him they looked like the dog had done it.
They had around a half hour to spare once the house was set up. Rossi had retreated to his study to recoup before his house was flooded with teens.
Spencer and JJ sat in his backyard, JJ indulging in a glass of wine while he had one small scotch just to take the edge off.
He could see her staring at the side of his face while he sipped from the tumbler and eventually he sighed and turned to look at her.
“What?”
“You’re nervous.” She had that knowing glint in her eye.
“You becoming a profiler was the worst thing that ever happened to me, do you know that?” His words caused her to laugh.
“And now you’re deflecting.” She smugly sipped her wine.
“My ex-wife and her boyfriend are going to be here today. My ex-wife who I haven’t spent more than a few minutes with since she moved out of our home. Of course I’m nervous. I’m kinda glad we decided to do it here actually, I couldn’t imagine her spending that much time in my house. The house she destroyed with her betrayal.” He finished his scotch but it didn’t help the way he’d hoped.
“Has it ever occurred to you to move?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, regarding him curiously.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.” He confessed with another sigh. “I thought painting would help. I thought about asking Morgan to help me just gut the place. But changing the facade isn’t going to erase the memories that house holds.”
“A fresh start would be good for you all. Especially with your blossoming new relationship.” JJ wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, leaning over and nudging his shoulder with her own.
“I don’t know about that.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s going to last with Y/N.”
“But she’s coming to the party? She’s going to meet your kids?”
“Yeah that might have been an error in judgement.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t want it to end, it’s not like I actively want this to fall apart.”
“So why do you think it's going to?” She frowned at him.
“I’ve done the family thing. I don’t want to do it again.” He sighed deeply. “I told her I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want anymore kids but that wasn’t true. Jennifer, I don’t want more kids. Not now, not ever. I love Daisy and Lily with all my heart but I don’t want anymore. I don’t want to get married again, I don’t want any of it. I am crazy about her and I would happily spend the rest of my life with her. But marriage and more kids aren’t in my future. But they are in hers.”
“Shit,” she sipped her wine. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” He groaned, reaching across and grabbing her glass from her hand.
She let him take it and watched him down the entire glass in one.
“You don’t like white wine.” She rolled her eyes.
“I do not.” He pulled a face as he swallowed. “That was disgusting.”
“You’ve gotta talk to her, you know? Probably before she meets your daughters.”
“That’s gonna be kinda hard don’t you think? What am I meant to do just wait by the door for her to arrive and turn her away? God I’ve fucked up, I need another drink.” He pushed himself up and JJ was quick to do the same.
Before he could pass her towards the kitchen she grabbed his arm.
“That is not a good idea.” She tugged him back. “You’re about to host a birthday party for your daughter, do you really want to be drunk for that?”
“Yes?” He pulled a face with a shrug.
“Trust me when I say you don’t.” She chuckled. “Maybe once the party is over and the kids have gone back to Maeve’s, but not right now.”
He heaved a large sigh which told her he conceded even if he wasn’t happy about it.
“Will you get drunk with me after the party?” He asked a little meekly.
“Sounds like a date.” She smiled at him. “I’m sure we can even get the others on board.”
“That would be good, I need that.” He nodded just as the doorbell rang.
He checked his watch and frowned as he still had fifteen minutes until people were supposed to show up.
“Why are people always early?” He grumbled, heading to the back door but once again JJ stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
When he turned back to her she was proffering a packet of mints his way with a small smile.
“You don’t want Maeve or the kids smelling wine on your breath.” She deposited one in his hand.
He nodded his thanks and popped the mint in his mouth as he continued through the back door and towards the front.
When he opened the door she was smiling at him over a cake which was at least four times the size of his head.
“You’re early.” He grumbled, stepping aside to let his ex in Rossi’s house.
“I wanted to see what you’d done before the party kicked off.” Maeve followed him inside.
“Didn’t trust me to throw my own kid a birthday party?” He huffed as they headed to the kitchen where JJ was fussing over some food in the oven.
“Can we not do this today?” Maeve sighed as she set the cake on the counter.
“Do what?”
“The passive aggressiveness. Can you just take one day off from hating me so we can celebrate our daughter's birthday?”
Spencer was going to argue, Maeve knew it and JJ knew it too. JJ came around the kitchen island and stood between the two of them.
“Where is the birthday girl?” JJ intervened before Spencer could say anything. “Spence, take the cake out to the yard.”
Spencer huffed like a child, JJ half expected him to stamp his foot. But he did as he was told and picked up the cake, retreating back outside.
“Bobby took the girls for ice cream. They're going to head over in a bit. She actually believes we aren’t doing anything for her on her birthday.” Maeve giggled. JJ did not.
JJ not so secretly harboured a lot of ill will towards Maeve for the pain she’d caused her best friend. She didn’t try to hide it, didn’t try to pretend to like her.
Even if Spencer wouldn’t admit how much Maeve’s infidelity had hurt him JJ could see right through him. And so she didn’t try to make a habit of hiding her disdain towards the other woman.
“Ok.” She replied, heading back towards the oven to put another batch of party food inside.
Maeve looked around uncomfortably, half wishing she’d come with Bobby and the girls and not on her own. Perhaps this whole party had been a terrible idea.
Nonetheless she found herself gravitating towards the yard where Spencer was straightening place settings that didn’t need straightening just to avoid going back in the house and talking to her.
He heard her step out onto the deck but refused to look up, instead kept focused on the table.
“The place looks great, Daisy is really going to love it.” She didn’t dare come closer, staying firmly on the decking.
“Glad you approve.” He scoffed.
“Spencer,” Maeve sighed. “Is it too much to ask for you to be civil for one day?”
His eyes suddenly snapped up at her, his movements halting.
“Was it too much to ask my wife not to cheat on me?” He bit back.
“I don’t know what else I can say for you to see how sorry I am. I tried to fix things, you’re the one who kicked me out. You’re the one who didn’t want to work on things.”
“What was there to work on?” He raised his voice. “You were fucking another man behind my back for three years, Maeve! You really think we could have come back from that?”
“I hurt you, I get it. And I am sorry for that, but at some point you have to get over it, Spencer!”
“You didn’t hurt me.” He rolled his eyes. “You hurt Daisy. You hurt Lily. You didn’t hurt me.”
The raised voices caught JJ’s attention. She sighed to herself as she set the oven timer, rounded the island once more and headed for the back door ready to break this up before the kids arrived.
She got halfway across the kitchen when she heard a tentative knock at the front door. She glanced back towards it before looking back at Spencer and Maeve.
Hopefully they could refrain from murdering each other while she answered the door.
With any luck it would be Will and the boys and hopefully Henry and Michael could cheer up their uncle Spencer.
She padded through the house towards the door as another gentle knock sounded. She unlocked it and opened it to see a slightly frightened young woman on the front porch.
You rolled your lip between your teeth as you took in the stunning blonde opening David Rossi’s front door.
Oh jeez, is that his ex? He never mentioned her being so pretty, you mentally cringed.
She smiled a beautiful and heart stopping smile at you as she held the door open.
“You must be Y/N?” She beamed, stepping aside. “Come in, please. Spence is in the backyard.”
Your stomach was coiling into knots as you entered the house, feeling sick about this whole situation. Your hands shook at your sides.
“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” Her bright blue eyes sparkled and you felt utterly intimidated.
“You…you have?”
“Of course! Spencer can’t stop talking about you.” She laughed. “I’m JJ by the way.”
You felt the lead weight in your chest loosen, like you could breathe freely again.
JJ, she’s JJ. His friend from the BAU, not his ex-wife. Thank god.
“JJ! Sorry yes, Spencer has told me about you too. I’m sorry I thought you were his ex and it threw me a little.” You laughed too. “It’s so nice to…”
You trailed off when the sound of a woman yelling filtered through the house from the backyard. You and JJ exchanged a look as the shouting continued.
“Uh, that’s his ex.” JJ sighed. “Excuse me, I should see what’s going on.”
You watched JJ flee towards the back of the house and without really meaning to you followed her. Through the large open back doors you could see Spencer and his ex-wife in mid standoff.
His back was rigid, his face was bright red, the vein in his forehead pushing wildly and he had his hands clenched into fists.
Maeve didn’t look any more composed than he did, steam practically coming out of her ears.
“I swear to god, Spencer, you are such a child sometimes!” Maeve yelled, throwing her arms in the air.
“I’m a child? I’m a child?” He spat.
You and JJ stayed in the kitchen, JJ not wanting to get in the middle of this but also not wanting things to get any worse.
“Yes! You act like you’re fine and that my affair meant nothing to you but then you can’t be civil towards me for even a second. If it really meant so little to you then why do you have to behave like this?”
“Fine,” he snapped like a frayed cord. “You hurt me, is that what you want to hear?”
“I didn’t say that.” Maeve sighed loudly. “I just wish you would-”
“I would what? You wish I would, what? You hurt me, ok? You really fucking hurt me.” He cut her off, the pain she’d caused evident in his voice to all three of you.
Your stomach tightened again, not wanting to be privy to this conversation and clearly neither did JJ.
Maeve looked away from him, somewhere across the garden and her shoulders slumped.
“I…I’m sorry Spencer.” She lowered her voice.
“It’s too late for that. I loved what we had, I loved you! And you hurt me more than I ever thought it possible to be hurt. Are you happy now?” He shook his head angrily. “I wanted to pretend that you didn’t cut me up inside with what you did because it was easier to deal with. I act like I only care that you hurt the girls because if I have to dwell on the fact the love of my life was cheating on me for three years I may never make it out of bed in the morning!
Goddamnit Maeve, you fucking broke me. You broke me, ok? I will never be the same because of what you did to me. So I’m passive aggressive towards you because if I’m not I might just break down every time I have to look at you. You broke me. You broke my heart.”
As he said that you felt your own heart breaking. In your peripheral vision you saw JJ looking at you but you were staring right at the side of Spencer’s face.
And when his first tear escaped, so did your own.
“Y/N, I-”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You cut JJ off. “I should go.”
You turned on your heels away from the back door the second Spencer glanced away from Maeve. He saw JJ staring at him in disbelief first and then he saw the back of your retreating head.
“Y/N?” He wiped his eyes. “Y/N!”
He started after you and you quickened your pace through the house, desperate to get out of here before having him confront you.
But of course he caught up with you, just before you reached the front door you felt his hand around your wrist.
When he tugged you back to face him it was impossible to hide the fact you were crying.
“Y/N I…I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” He rolled his lip between his teeth guiltily.
“But I did hear it.” You sniffed. “I’m never going to be her am I?”
“It’s not like that.” He shook his head. “My feelings towards her are complicated. This whole thing is complicated.”
“Let me uncomplicate it then Spencer. I’m taking myself out of this equation. I’m walking away.” You wiped your eyes on the back of your hand.
“Please don’t do that. Let’s just talk about this, please?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. We want different things and you have very unresolved feelings for your ex. There is nothing left to say, Spencer. We don’t have the same idea of the future and maybe that’s because you can’t see yourself being with anyone but Maeve and I get it, you were together a long time. I just wish you’d been honest with me from the start. I wish I hadn’t had to witness the love of my life telling another woman she was his.” You turned away from him again to the door and threw it open.
“Y/N, just wait please I can…” he trailed off seeing a gaggle of teenagers skulking up Rossi’s driveway towards the house.
With everything going on he had almost forgotten about the party.
It allowed you to make a break, weaving between the kids on the driveway and Spencer couldn’t stop you.
He plastered on a smile and welcomed Daisy’s school friends to Rossi’s home whilst watching you disappear.
And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
***
He watched Daisy and the beautiful, bright smile on her face from the kitchen window, arms folded across his chest and just trying to drink it all in.
The teens had the run of Rossi’s backyard, the adults relegated to the house to allow them some freedom. Music blared from a series of smart speakers which Spencer had no idea how they worked.
But the kids seemed to enjoy it.
Daisy was sitting on the edge of the pool, a blonde girl sitting by her side as they chatted and the smile that encompassed his daughter's face told him that girl was Meredith aka the most popular girl at Daisy’s school.
He tried to ignore the way his blood froze in his veins due to the fact his fourteen year old little girl was wearing a bathing suit with teenage boys in the vicinity.
Her cast had been removed a few days ago, just in time for the party. He was glad she’d healed but also kind of wished she’d had it in a little longer and then at least she might not have been able to swim and therefore wouldn’t be in a damn bathing suit.
It only really occurred to him as he watched her how grown up she had become. In his mind's eye she was still a little girl, the same little girl who loved ponies and came running to her dad when she was hurt.
Lily still did, still looked at him like he hung the moon. But it wouldn’t be long before she was a teenager too and pushing her dad away.
He still remembered the day Daisy was born as though it could have only been yesterday and now she was turning fourteen. She’d be going off to college in the blink of an eye, moving out and forging her own life. And surely it wouldn’t be all that long before Lily was doing the same.
He’d been a father for so long now he didn’t know what he would do with himself when they grew up and he became obsolete. Who was Spencer Reid without his girls?
He continued watching his eldest daughter, partly because he wanted to feel included in her life and partly because he was avoiding Maeve like the plague.
He felt a presence enter the kitchen and he prayed that it wasn’t his ex. His company sidled up next to him and he glanced at them, breathing a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Maeve.
“Is it too much to ask to keep them young forever?” Spencer spoke wistfully, looking back at his daughter.
“Tell me about it,” Matt chuckled dryly. “My eldest is twelve now and I just can’t comprehend how that happened.”
“I swear it was just yesterday I was bringing her home from the hospital.”
“Yeah I know that feeling.” Matt patted Spencer’s shoulder. “Just be grateful for the time you still have with Lily before she becomes a teenager too.”
The tone in Matt’s voice was almost pitiful and Spencer turned away from the window to look at him.
“You spoke to JJ.” He frowned at the older man.
“She might have mentioned an altercation.” Matt shrugged. “I assume that’s why you’re avoiding Maeve more than usual.”
“My daughter's birthday was not the place I imagined my repressed feelings coming to the surface.” He sighed. “Not that I imagined them ever doing so.”
“And in front of your girlfriend too. That’s rough.” Matt offered him a sympathetic smile.
“I’m almost positive she’s not going to be my girlfriend after today.”
“Oh man, I’m sure you’ll-”
“Dad!” Daisy’s slightly frustrated voice cut Matt off.
Spencer spun around to face his daughter who was now in the kitchen, hands on her hips and glaring at her father.
“What is it, pumpkin?”
Daisy’s cheeks flushed pink and she glanced to her side where the blonde girl was standing, giggling under her breath.
“Gross, don’t call me that.” Daisy rolled her eyes.
Spencer pouted, her harsh tone hitting him straight in the chest. He’d called both of his girls pumpkin since they were babies and Daisy had never minded before.
“Uh…what’s up, Daisy?” He tried again.
“Can you change the music? My friends don’t want to listen to this old man stuff.” She huffed in such a sassy way Spencer wasn’t even sure he recognised this girl as his daughter.
He frowned, tuning his ears into the music and noting a Frank Sinatra classic was playing through the speakers.
It was a great song, but probably not to a fourteen year old.
“I’ll sort it.” Matt spoke with a smile.
“Thanks uncle Matt.” Daisy smiled at him before the two girls turned and started back towards the yard.
Spencer watched the blonde link her arm through Daisy’s as they walked.
“Your uncle is so hot.” Meredith’s voice carried towards them.
Spencer grimaced and Matt chuckled. Spencer shot him a look.
“What?” Matt shrugged. “I can’t help it.”
As the two girls headed into the yard, Meredith’s voice met their ears again.
“Your dads kinda creepy though. He’s been watching us through the window for ages.”
“I know right.” Daisy replied.
Spencer slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead and grumbled under his breath.
“This is the worst goddamn day of my life.” Spencer groaned.
Matt laughed again and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“No one ever said raising a teenager was easy.”
“No kidding.” Spencer mumbled, following on Matt’s heels as he went to change the music.
***
Two hours passed and the teens had well and truly taken over Rossi’s yard. The older man spent most of the day in the armchair in the corner of the grand living room sipping scotch and trying to pretend the kids weren’t going to destroy his house.
Spencer kept himself out of the kitchen, not wanting his daughter or her friends to see him as creepy as Meredith had so kindly labelled him.
Instead every fifteen minutes he sent another member of the BAU to the kitchen for something innocuous so they could subtly check on the teens.
Maeve kept her distant but he still caught her looking his way every so often. He tried to ignore her the best he could, knowing no good could come of talking to her.
Lily flitted about the room, dividing her time between her parents and all her aunts and uncles as Daisy had strictly told her mother that Lily was not allowed anywhere near her party.
He excused himself from the room after a while and headed upstairs to make a call. He knew you wouldn’t answer but it didn’t stop him trying.
As expected he got your voicemail and left a long rambling message about how sorry he was for what you’d overheard and how he wanted to explain. He begged you to call him back but wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t.
When he was about to head back downstairs, he saw her heading his way and he honestly wanted to throw himself over the railing and straight into Rossi’s marbled floor below.
Anything was better than talking to her.
“Daisy wants her cake and I knew you wouldn’t want to miss it.” Maeve had her hands in the pockets of her summer dress and she shrugged her shoulders.
“Ok, thanks. I was just coming.” He nodded.
“No sarcastic response? No passive aggressive comment?” Maeve frowned.
Spencer sighed loudly, shaking his head.
“I’m so tired, Maeve.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “I am exhausted with it all. I can’t keep fighting all the time.”
Her frown deepened. She was fairly sceptical, and with good reason. For the last year all Spencer had wanted to do was fight, he almost seemed to enjoy it.
“You don’t want to fight?”
“I don’t have the energy to fight.” He shrugged. “We’re never going to be friends or anything like that, but I’m not fighting anymore. It takes too much out of me. You’re the mother of my children, you’re always going to be a part of my life whether I like it or not.”
“I appreciate that.” Maeve softened, smiling gently.
“It’s not for your benefit.” He scoffed.
“Well that was short lived.” Maeve rolled her eyes, turning away from him and heading towards the staircase.
“I’m trying.” He called after her, stopping her in her tracks. “I’m not saying it’s going to change overnight but I am trying.”
She didn’t turn back to him, but she nodded her head as she started down the stairs.
***
“This has honestly been the worst day ever.” Spencer slurred slightly, waving his glass around and spilling some of the contents over his shirt sleeve.
“Should we cut him off?” Luke whispered to Penelope who was sitting on his left.
The party had been over hours ago and all the children had since left, leaving Spencer and his old BAU team to drink in Rossi’s trashed yard.
Daisy had a wonderful birthday and that was the most important thing to Spencer. The second most important thing was the fact he had royally messed things up with you.
The moment he’d seen Daisy and Lily off with their mother he’d poured himself a giant glass of scotch in lieu of going home alone. Taco was at the kennel for the night so he had no need to go home.
At this point he was well over half way through the bottle.
“I think he needs this.” Garcia shrugged sadly.
“I fucked up with Y/N. She’s never going to talk to me again! What the fuck was I thinking?” He groaned loudly, splashing more alcohol down himself as he gesticulated.
“It was probably time you finally faced your feelings over your divorce, kid.” Rossi sipped his drink. “Divorce is hard, it’s a shit thing to go through. Trust me, I would know.”
“You know what’s dumb though? Really fucking dumb considering I’m supposed to be a genius?” He paused to sip his drink. “I honestly didn’t think I was in love with Maeve. Not until she told me she’d cheated. And it felt like my whole fucking world crumbled around me.”
At least he had stopped crying. For at least an hour he’d sobbed and JJ, Garcia, Emily and Tara took turns holding him while he wept.
They would all take him angrily ranting over crying any day.
“Have you considered seeing a therapist?” Tara threw out the question on everyone’s lips.
“What would I do that for?” He frowned, trying to focus on her but his eyes were misty from the alcohol.
“Clearly you have a lot of unresolved issues.” Tara replied and that was putting it nicely. “I think talking to a therapist will really help.”
“No, not gonna happen.” He was scrambling to get out of the lawn chair and failing miserably.
JJ rolled her eyes and got up, wrapping her arm around his waist and helping him to his feet.
“Where are you trying to go?” She asked, keeping an arm around him in case he fell over.
“I…I don’t know.” He pouted.
“May I suggest bed?” Emily piped up. “Sleep it off Reid.”
“Yeah I’ve got plenty of room.” Rossi waved a hand in the general direction of the house.
“Hmm good idea.” He nodded, leaning his weight against JJ. Seconds later he pulled away, his face drained of colour. “Oh fuck…gonna puke.”
Maybe it was her mothering instinct but JJ jumped into action and managed to speedily help Spencer inside to the kitchen sink, just in time for him to violently spill his guts.
The sounds emanating from him echoed around the room and into the yard. JJ stroked his back soothingly while he vomited profusely.
“I think that’s my cue to leave.” Matt downed his drink and stood up.
The rest of the team silently agreed, finishing their own drinks and meandering into the house.
Rossi saw them off, Matt and Tara who had only indulged in one drink each got in their cars while Garcia, Luke and Emily shared a cab toward their own homes.
Spencer spent a long time being sick in the sink before he finally stood back and JJ handed him a glass of water. He leant against the counter and sipped it slowly.
Rossi had taken his leave to bed, not much wanting to clean up after Spencer.
“I’m sorry. You really don’t have to look after me.” He grumbled.
“But I’m gonna do it anyway.” She smiled at him. “Let me help you upstairs. I think I’ll stay the night too. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you like this.”
She thought he might argue but he honestly didn’t have the strength to. Instead he heaved a sigh and nodded.
He finished the water and JJ aided him to one of Rossi’s guest rooms with an arm around his waist. He flopped to the bed fully dressed and on top of the covers.
He was asleep within seconds.
JJ quietly retreated from the room and made her way to the other guest bedroom whilst sending Will a text to let him know she wouldn’t be home.
She got into bed, her heart aching for her best friend. She’d never seen him like this before, not even in the aftermath of Maeve’s affair.
She’d always known it would come bubbling to the surface one day, pain needed to be felt one way or another. But now he’d unlocked that particular box she feared he may never come back from it.
The beast had been unleashed and if Spencer didn’t find a healthy way to cope with his demons, she knew it would ultimately be his demise.
***
When Spencer finally surfaced around midday he looked about as bad as JJ expected him to. He still wore yesterday's clothes, now wrinkled from being slept in.
She’d spent the morning helping Rossi clean his house of the mess from the party and both of them were sipping coffee at the kitchen island when Spencer emerged.
“Morning, how are you feeling?” JJ asked.
He went straight to the sink, poured a glass of water and downed it in one before he could speak.
“Like I drank an entire brewery, screamed at my ex-wife and destroyed my relationship.” He croaked. “Pretty impressive for one night.”
“I know this isn’t what you’re gonna want to hear but you’ve been bottling up your feelings for Maeve for over a year, it was bound to come out.” Rossi shrugged.
Spencer grumbled a little, padding to the chair on the other side of the counter and slumping into it.
“You know I sometimes still picture her at the house.” He sighed deeply. “Like I close my eyes and I can sense her you know? Hear her in the kitchen when I come home from work, hear her reading to the girls, taking a shower or whatever. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night because I swear I can smell her shampoo on the pillow.”
JJ reached across the counter and placed her hand on top of his as his eyes glazed over with tears. She didn’t talk and so he continued.
“I did love her, I still do. I don’t want to be with her anymore, not after what she did. But I miss her. I miss the life we used to have. But it makes me feel so stupid admitting as much when she made me feel like our life together meant nothing.” He dislodged his hand from under JJ’s and raked his fingers through his knotted hair. “I really messed up with Y/N. There’s no coming back from this.”
“You’ll figure it out. You’re a genius after all.” She smiled softly at him. “You ok to drive home?”
“Yeah I’ll be fine. Thanks for letting me throw the party here Dave and for letting me crash.”
“No problem, kid. Get home safe.”
JJ and Spencer got to their feet and said their goodbyes to Rossi. They headed to their cars but before they went their separate ways he threw his arms around her.
He held her for a long few minutes, trying to communicate without the use of words just how much her friendship meant to him.
Eventually he let go and they got into their respective cars.
Spencer drove out and collected Taco from the kennel before making the pilgrimage out to his home in the suburbs.
Once he got home he forced himself to shower and change even though his head was pounding from last night's alcohol. Something had to give. He couldn’t keep living like this.
His alcohol use was becoming unhealthy and it was a slippery slope into addiction, as he knew all too well.
After he was dressed he collected every single bottle of alcohol in his house and without a second thought he poured it all down the drain. Out of sight, out of mind.
He fed Taco and let him play in the yard while he sat in his office with a large mug of coffee. He switched on his computer and started Googling realtors in the area.
He knew he’d never be able to move on whilst living in this house. He didn’t want to go far, didn’t want to pull his girls out of their school and away from their friends but he couldn’t stay in this place any longer.
He sent off some emails enquiring about having his home valued and specifications of what he was looking for in a new house.
He knew he needed to go out but he was purposefully putting it off, finding anything to distract himself from what he needed to do.
He even sat and watched Taco roam the yard for at least half an hour, just to avoid the inevitable.
But he needed to do this. He needed to face this.
Eventually, several hours after he arrived home, he forced his feet in his shoes and grabbed his car keys. Hopefully Taco wouldn’t cause too much of a nuisance while he was gone.
He jumped in his car and started his journey into DC, knowing full well that nothing he could say would make this better.
It was time to face the music.
@andiebeaword @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @angelicasworld
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem! reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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(starter for @alicesought )
All he could hear was the ringing in his ears and the lingering of Jonathans voice calling out his name. Now, Jervis was smart, extremely so, but even he had lapses in his judgement when it came to his actions.
Dealing with highly unstable but technologically advanced devices that may have been heisted from a lex corporation vehicle that tried to route its way through Gotham...that was one of those lapses.
No matter his roommates insistence to pass this off to some poor schmuck he refused to listen. Besides, they had gotten it secured and in their grasps, why would they simply throw that opportunity away?
Luckily for Jervis, he got what he wanted! But, got more than he bargained for as with the right amount of tinkering the distinct sharp featured steel cube activated. Now, he would love to remember what happened after that but all he truly remembered was a quick but striking blinding light and a jolt of electricity...
And a fall...
One that seemed to go on further than he had even processed.
He must of hit his head hard from how it felt when he awoke again but this wasn't the main priority... As far as he knew he wasn't in the right place. Not only from the messy interior but just the overall lack of recognition of any of the decor.
"Ooookay okay easy-- steady.." He told himself as he stumbled to his feet, leaning onto the wall. This place looked...occupied enough, so context clues point to he wasn't alone.
Jervis didn't know if he wanted that to be true or not in his current state. A quick pat down of of himself made him realize that he did have his cards on hand...but that's it.
"At least I have that in case..." he whispered to himself. Jervis breathed in then sighed as he prepared himself to do a very stupid thing.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
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A Normal Christmas (Riff Lorton x OC) *Christmas Special* 🎄
Summary: Riff has never had a ‘normal’ Christmastime, so his girlfriend takes him around to finally get a Christmas tree.
“Wait. What?” I ask in a deadpan tone.
“You hoid me,” Riff replies from the couch. “Never had a tree.”
I blink, my jaw still dragging on the floor. It’s currently December 23, and every time I’ve visited Riff this month I keep waiting for him to get a tree for his apartment. And there’s still no tree! I got so anxious I finally just flat-out asked him why he hadn’t got one yet, only to find out he had no clue why he needed a Christmas tree.
“How are you so calm about this? How have you never had a tree?” I ask with wide eyes.
Riff lets out a deep sigh and shuffles over to the kitchen. “I donno. It’s just…” He scratches his head. “My family’s never really done Christmas.”
I scrunch my nose. “Never done Christmas? How does that even happen-? Oh.” My face falls and realization washes over me.
Riff chuckles. “Grow’n up with little spare change can’t really buy Christmas. After my dad died I just sorta forgot about it. I know it’s supposed to be all grand and exciting, but to me Christmas is just like any odda holiday.”
“Oh my God. Riff, I’m so sorry.” I walk over and take his hand. “I’m sorry Christmas isn’t as special for you. It’s a time-a year that’s supposed to be with family and friends, good food and decorations…” An idea pops into my head and I start dragging him to the door.
“Wait- Wha-? Holly, whaddya doing?” Riff tries to ask.
“All this mope’n around stops now.” I open the door and grab my coat. “Tonight I’m gonna take you to get a Christmas tree.”
The handsome Jet chuckles and tries to wave it off. “That’s real sweet-a ya, Holy. But you don’t gotta-”
“Yes I do!” I stop to face him when we reach the stairwell. “Riff, you’ve never had a real Christmas your whole life. I wanna make it up to you because I luv you. Please?”
Riff goes to argue, but when he sees my pleading eyes he shuts his mouth and rethinks. Instead of answering, Riff wraps me into a tight hug.
“Gee, doll. I donno how to thank you.”
I smile. “You can thank me by helping me carry the tree home. Now let’s go!”
The nearest tree lot is only a few blocks away, and as soon as we enter the gate Riff is already confused.
“So they chop the trees down, drive them here and just… leave them out?”
I nod as I look over a nice and sturdy spruce. “Yeah. Since folks in the city don’t got nearby woods, it’s easier to bring them here. Whaddya think-a this one?”
Riff takes a good look at the pinetree I’m presenting that’s almost as tall as me. “Is it supposed to be small?”
My smile falters by a fraction. “Well… not really. But the bigger the tree the bigger the price. I can only afford a table topper tree.”
The Jet scrunches his face. “A table topper tree? What the heck does that mean?”
“It’s a tree that rich folks put on their dining tables for decoration.”
Riff’s jaw drops. “You mean that whole tree goes on a flip’n table? Jeez, this tradition is weird.”
“Do you mind the small one?” I ask in an uneasy tone.
“I think it’s poifect, Holly.” Riff gets a grateful smile on his face. “Now let me hold up my end-a the bargain and carry it home.”
“Let’s hurry!” I start to shiver. “I hoid there’s supposed to be snow tonight.”
Back at Riff’s apartment we find a spot for the tree by the window. Since it’s small we only have to use cinder blocks to keep in place. Once we’ve finished, Riff gets an odd look.
“Looks good, right?”
I smirk and start pull’n out the box I brought from home. “We ain’t done yet, Lorton. We gotta decorate it.”
“With wha-? Oh my God. How much did you bring?”
I let out a carefree laugh as I set out strings of popcorn, a few cheap ornaments, some tinsel, and an old angel.
“A few things from home. I made the angel when I was a kid. And-” I skip over and hand the angel to Riff. “You get to put it on the top!”
Riff gently takes the angel as if I’d just given him a hundred dollars.
“Holly, this… this is the greatest gift ever. Thank you!”
I let out a laugh. “Riff, I’ll admit your gratefulness and enthusiasm is appreciated, but it’s just an angel.”
He gawks at me and sets the angel down, then cups my face in his hands.
“Holly, this ain’t just an angel. It’s you give’n me a real Christmas that’s so special. I don’t even know what gift to get you to say thank-you.”
I wrap my arms around his head and press a kiss on his cheek. “You already did, Riff. You gave up rumbles, you made peace with the Jets. Just the assurance of know’n you’ll come home in one piece is a gift in itself.”
We each lean in to hug, a few seconds go by, and Riff stays silent. After a while I feel him starting to shake and move away to see tears streaming down his worn face.
“I- You- This… I donno what to say, Holly.” He looks to me as a lost sheep who found its shepherd.
I use my thumb to wipe away his tears. “A simple Merry Christmas is plenty enough. Just remember to be the grateful man I know you are, especially around this holy season.”
Riff chokes down more tears and whispers: “Merry Christmas, Holly. I luv you.”
“I know. I luv you too, Jet boy. Now let’s finish decorating this tree before you eat all the popcorn!” I hold up a finger before Riff can argue. “Don’t think I can’t see you snacking on it behind my back! It ain’t for eating, it’s for decoration.”
Riff rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. Do I still get to eat the cookies you brought over?”
My grin widens. “Yes! I’ll go get them, be right back!” I dash into the kitchen and retrieve a red tin from the counter, then turn around to find that Riff has followed behind me and is waiting with a puppy-eyed expression.
“Can I have a cookie, please?”
The scene almost makes me burst out laugh’n. “The once vicious, fearless Jet leader is begging me for a cookie? Wow, times have changed!”
Riff shows mock offense and tackles me in a hug. “They’re your Christmas cookies, and the best ones I’s ever tasted. Now will ya let me have one or will I have to use other methods to get one?” He starts tickl’n my sides and I go into spasms of laughter.
“Riff Lorton- stop- Stop it! Here here- take it!” I cackle as I shove over the cookie tin. Riff removes the lid and his eyes light up at the sight-a the bright-frosted cookies. “There. Happy now-? Oh!” Before I finish, Riff shoves a cookie into my mouth and then takes one for himself.
“Oh my God,” he mumbles as his eyes roll back in pleasure. “This is without a doubt the best thing you’s ever baked, Holly.”
After I’ve chewed and swallowed my cookie I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, Riff. Now that you’s had your sugar high can we finish decorating?”
Instead of answering, Riff sweeps me up and carries me back to the tree. “‘Course we can, doll. Just curious- whadda we do once it’s decorated?”
“You put gifts under it and open them on Christmas morning,” I explain as I resume hanging ornaments.
“Oh. Alright.” I feel Riff come up behind me and outta nowhere he rolls me beneath the branches. “There! You’re my gift, Holly!”
I blink. His pun is sweet, but the thought-a be’n Riff’s Christmas gift is even sweeter.
“You’re my gift too, Riff.” I take his hand and bring him closer to join me under the beautiful but humble tree. “Merry Christmas, Jet boy.”
Riff pecks my lips and gives me a genuine smile. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
#riff wss x reader#riff x reader#riff wss#riff lorton#riff west side story#west side story#riff west side story x reader#west side story 2021#wss 2021#west side story x reader#christmas time#christmas lights#christmas tree#christmas traditions#mike faist
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AAAAHHH
Ive been waiting for your inbox to open back up EEE
Going back to what i previously requested could you write a fict where the reader absolutely loves halloween and fall so they go fall shopping, get seasonal drinks (maybe even halloween costumes 👀) and its basically just smitten Matt who loves when the reader is passionate about something and he just loves the excited energy thats all around him 😙
ALSO IM SO GLAD YOUR FEELING BETTER HOPE ALL IS WELL ❤️❤️
hii!! I didn’t want to turn you down, so I gave you a few thoughts and ideas as a compromise, hope that’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
—
fall girl
matt murdock x f!reader
word count: 520
✧.┊ MASTERLIST
— he looks forward to autumn for the whole year bc he knows how happy the season makes you !!
— the first week of autumn, he books off work (I know that may not canonically be correct, but for the sake of this just go with it. also he doesn't go on patrol, so he can have more time with you, shush it's fiction, it's okay)
— so during the first week, you both do a bunch of shopping to get ready for the season ahead!! stopping past all the 'bargain' shops to fill your baskets: wreaths, pumpkins, warm-tone throws, anything and everything you want. matt obvs can't see, so he's easy, adding whatever you want to the basket to make your shared home to your liking
— (if you could, you'd start in july!! but matt persuades you to at least wait until the end of august)
— you kinda splurge a lot, getting some, albeit unnecessary items. things no one ever needs!! maybe some pumpkin cookie cutters, orange garlands, or just things that will never be used. stuff that lies around in a cabinet all year round until found again in easter
— after you shop, you get a little pick-me-up from a coffee store. revitalise yourselves a bit before the next stop. while you enjoy your drinks, you chat, talk about where everything will go when you get home, talking excitedly !! almost gushing as you peek at your items through the bag handles
— matt loves to hear you talk:(( he loves hearing your heart beat just that bit faster when you talk about things you enjoy, and it makes his feel warm to be able to listen to you- that he's special enough to enjoy your interests !!
— he loves the way your breathing quickens and how you need to take more breaths and pauses as you're talking so much and so fast. HE JUST LOVES IT !!
— when you get home, you're both very tired, so you save the decorating until tomorrow. but you throw the blankets and pillow covers in the wash so that they're ready for the next day
— you each take a shower and change into comfy pjs. you both sit on the couch as you eat your soup (you were too tired to make some, so you bought a premade one and heated it up while matt was washing- so it would be ready at the same time as him) you both dip some fresh buttered bread (you picked it up from a bakery on the way back home)
— to wind down for the night, you and matt snuggle on the sofa as you watch a comforting autumn/ halloween movie. he listens to it and imagines or falls asleep to your steady heartbeat and breathing <3
— next day, you decorate. but he has to take away your debit/credit/bank card, to stop you from ordering MORE stuff online. it's no use, bc you know all the details by heart
— a few days later, more stuff arrives and matt answers the door, turning back at you with an amused smile. you smile back, shrugging. "there was a sale."
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
matt taglist: @hailey-murdock @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim @queerponcho @selfryed @simplyreflected
#request#i’m an autumn girlie so bad it hurts#matt murdock#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock drabble#matt murdock one shot#matt murdock x fem!reader#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock#daredevil
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may i pls request 12 + 63 for robin 🥺
i honestly do not remember what prompt list this was from YIKES but hi nika thank u for sending a robin req, ur a real one <3
12) “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” and 63) “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
robin buckley x fem!reader. love confessions and kisses :-) ft. wingman steve (king)
****
One thing about snow in Hawkins is it never falls halfway.
Your parents are away for the weekend and don't know about the two feet of snow that hit last night. You've been content ignoring said snow and staying curled up in the house. You study, watch movies, and make hot chocolate. A whole pot of it, in fact. Snow days are great when you don't have to dig out the car.
You hear a scraping sound outside, like plastic on pavement. You turn off the stove and open the curtain.
It's Robin. She climbs the hill your neighborhood sits upon. She drags a large, green shovel behind her.
She's also nowhere near appropriately dressed for a Hawkins winter. Clad in only a windbreaker and a hat, you know Robin has to be freezing.
You pull on your heavy duty winter coat and scarf and head outside.
"Robin!" you call and start to unravel your scarf.
She looks up. You wonder how she walked all the way here from her house.
"Oh!" She pushes a couple strands of hair out of her face as you approach, cheeks flushed with cold. "H-hey, Y/N."
You stop in front of her, arms crossed.
"What are you wearing?"
She looks down, then at you.
"A... sweater?"
"Exactly! A sweater. It's below freezing. Here, take my jacket. Or my coat. Which do you want? I'll give you my coat first. Should fit you—it's loose on me."
You shrug out of your coat and manhandle her arms through the sleeves. Then you take off your scarf. Robin catches your arm, eyes wide.
"Y/N, it's really okay. I've been shoveling all day, I barely feel the cold anymore."
"Well, that's not a good sign, Robs. Let me put the scarf, come on."
She obediently bows her head so you can wrap the scarf around her neck. Plumes of foggy breath mingle in the air between you. Robin's eyes are a little half-lidded when you're done.
"Thanks," she whispers.
You beam. "You're welcome. Come have some hot chocolate."
"Are you sure? I–I mean, I don't wanna interrupt anything. You're probably having dinner, right?"
You shake your head.
"It's still early. My parents are out for the weekend. You're not interrupting anything. And God, all that shoveling? You must be exhausted."
You take her bare hand in your gloved one and frown.
"Remind me to get you some gloves," you say, and lead her inside.
Robin lets you pull her in. You nudge her into a chair at the kitchen table.
"So," you say. "Marshmallows? Whipped cream?"
"Oh. Um, yes, please. Thank you."
You pour two cups and swirl whipped cream in both. Then you decorate with too many mini marshmallows. You serve the dessert drinks. Robin immediately goes for hers and cream smears on her nose and lips.
She sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes.
"Do I have something on my face?"
You grin and get a paper towel. Robin stares at you, lips slightly parted as you carefully wipe her face. You fold and toss the paper towel. Robin swallows.
"Th-thanks," she says.
"Sure thing," you reply, feeling a little warm. "Are you cold?"
"No, I'm okay. Your coat is really warm."
"Isn't it? I got it on sale at Sears. I could get you one too if you'd like. I'm a fiend for bargains."
Robin snorts.
"What!" you say. "I am!"
"Nothing, nothing. You're just really nice."
"Robin Buckley, you smooth talker. I do believe Steve is rubbing off on you."
She rolls her eyes. "God, I hope not. We were supposed to shovel together and then three streets before your neighborhood, he said he had to go home. I didn't take the ride; I've been making good money."
"But your fingers are like Otter Pops," you fret, taking her hands in yours.
Robin's cheeks are red again. You stand to feel her forehead.
"You're all flushed, Robs. Do you feel sick? I can make some tea. I also have a box of Hothands."
"N-no," she squeaks, blinking up at you. "I'm okay, really."
"Well, we can call Steve, if you like. I'm sure he'd be willing to pick you up—"
"No!"
Your brows raise. Robin shifts in her seat.
"Um, what I mean is, he's probably busy, you know? Like super busy. He had to drop everything and go so, like, it's not a big deal."
"It's not a big deal that he ditched you?" you ask. "But you guys are best friends. Why would he do that? And right before you had to climb the hill to my house?"
Robin twists her ring around her pointer finger.
"Yeah, weird. But you know, Steve has his whims. He's a... whimsical guy."
You squint. "Did he say why he ditched?"
"Uh, no, no. But like I said, it doesn't really matter."
"Well, you can stay as long as you want. I'd drive you myself but my parents have the car."
"That's okay." Robin smiles. "I like drinking hot chocolate with you."
"I have cookies! Oh my gosh, let me get those out. You'll love these. I made them yesterday."
You flit about the kitchen, getting out plates and the tin of sugar cookies. Robin takes off your and her winterwear, draping them over the chair. Then she unzips her windbreaker, revealing a smart red sweater with snowflakes printed on it and a lace collar.
"That's pretty," you say and take the plates of cookies over.
"Oh, this?" She pushes a loose curl behind her ear. That's when you notice the sparkly red barrettes.
"Those are too!" you gush. "You got all dressed up for shoveling snow?"
"Um... kinda."
You hum. "It's so unlike what you normally wear, Robs. Do you have a date or something?"
"No," she says weakly. "No date."
"Well, any girl would be lucky to have you," you say.
She perks up. "Really?"
"Of course!"
You know Robin's been pining for that Vickie girl in school. And you're okay with that. Robin doesn't even know you're an option, after all. You can't blame her for pursuing other people.
Robin takes a bite of cookie.
"Shit," she says. "These are amazing."
You grin. "I'm glad you like them. I'll give you some to take."
She chews for a bit, then suddenly sets down the cookie.
"Hey," Robin says. "Can I... can I tell you something?"
"Always."
"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, just... please promise me that if you don't feel the same you won't... we won't stop being friends."
You tilt your head. "Feel the same? Robs, what are you—"
"Please?" she begs. "Please promise me."
"I promise, Robs. We literally fought a DnD monster last year. Nothing could make us stop being friends. Cross my heart and hope to die."
Robin chews her lip hard. She fidgets with her collar.
"Nancy helped me pick this sweater out," she says. "This morning."
"Nancy? Uh, okay... what does that have to—"
"Steve didn't ditch me," she blurts.
You shake your head. "I don't understand."
"I wore this sweater for you."
"For me?"
"I like you, Y/N," she says quietly. "I really, really like you. I didn't choose to shovel this neighborhood by accident. And I'm so nervous around you so Steve suggested I find an excuse to see you and then it snowed and I thought, maybe I can shovel your driveway and I'll finally have a real conversation and stop chickening out! But–but then you gave me your coat and brought me hot chocolate and oh my God, you're like the sweetest girl ever and I really, really like you and—"
"Robin."
She stops, eyes wide. You crouch so you're level with her chair.
"Sorry," she whispers.
You shake your head.
"Sorry for what?" you ask with a smile.
And you kiss her.
Robin makes a surprised noise but she doesn't pull away. Her fingers are cold on your cheek so you cover them with your hands to warm her up. She tastes like hot chocolate and icing. Her lips are chapped and you know her habit of picking at them, so you take care not to tug too hard with your teeth.
She hums, soft and low, and you understand. It feels like you fit.
"Do Steve and Nancy like sugar cookies?" you ask when you pull away.
Robin's brows furrow. "Steve definitely does. Why?"
"Well, I feel like they should get a treat for the parts they played."
Robin grins slyly. "Do I get a treat? I feel like I played a huge part in this, too."
You bite your lip through a smile and tug Robin forward by the collar of her sweater. She catches herself on your arms, blush high on her cheeks.
"Of course you do, Robs. You get all the treats you want."
#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x y/n#robin buckley imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#inbox#blurb#this has been in my drafts for three freaking months 🙈#justice for my girl#LESBIANS!
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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 12. Richie Jerimovich
PROMPT is from here and I’m using: “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”
A/N: it’s canon in my head that when richie is ready to find a new love interest that they will be plus sized idk that’s just what my brain tells me. This reader is also plus sized and could be a potential love interest but this falls in line of somewhat platonic?
WARNINGS: language, triggering matters such as ED, plus-sized reader, + some childhood verbal bullying.
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊
Halloween or fall season wasn’t really Raquel’s joy. She was more of a Christmas girlie by all means but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t attempt some fall things. Take right now for example: she had her hands deep into the guts of a pumpkin, the stench of the vegetable almost made her gag and it happens every year where she’s reminded that she prefers dealing with squash much more. Yet here she was, scooping out the insides and allowing the stringiness to get caught underneath her tortoise nails; zoning out after browsing dreadful Facebook.
Raquel’s tunnel daze is dragged away after harsh kicks are sent right to her door. She’s blinking rapidly as she comes to terms that the sound is coming from outside and not from her head. The 5’10 woman pulls her hands from the pumpkin, ready to move over to the sink to rinse her hands quickly but settles for wiping them on her half apron, then jogs over to the door.
“Who is it?” Raquel questions, disliking that she doesn’t have a peephole but is aware that she could lean over her couch to peer out the window.
The reply is instant but muffled, “your best dream come true! C’mon it’s me, open up!”
Raquel smiles at this, “sorry. I don’t know anyone by, ‘c’mon it’s me!’ Maybe you have the wrong house?”
“The same house that I’ve been over a jillion times before?! I don’t think so sweetheart.”
“If you been here before, how come you don’t have a key?” Raquel continues to play along.
Richie huffs, “I can barely keep up with my own keys so we both know giving me another would probably be a lost cause.”
Raquel unlocks the door soon after and welcomes the fresh 62 degree weather of the early afternoon in before her friend. “Richard, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
In richie fashion, he barges into the condo, kicks squeaking against wood laminate floors as he enters, holding a plastic bag up in the air for the dark haired woman to see. Closing the door behind him, Raquel spins on her fuzzy socks to follow richie right to the eighty-eight square feet modern kitchen.
“Those stools still haven’t come in?” Richie states the obvious as he eyes the outside of the bare counter.
Raquel sighs, “they’re now apparently on back order but it took me to contact them in order to get that information.”
“Shit,” Richie comments, “told you just to cancel the order, get your money back, and we can go down to TJMAXX to get a way better steal than what you probably paid for two of those chairs.”
It’s funny how richie used to give Raquel crap for her weekend errands and now he didn’t mind attending when he could.
Raquel leans her elbows against the counter with a smirk, “that maybe true but I wanted quality over bargaining.”
Don’t take this the wrong way, she had plenty of decor pieces that she just purchased from that exact store but she wanted something a little more upscale since she didn’t exactly have the space in this condo to make a formal dining area. A friend suggested getting a round table to place towards the path of the walkway from the entrance but Raquel decided against that since she didn’t want the second bedroom to be blocked whenever company exited.
Although it was only Raquel and her gray hairless Sphynx, Archibald. Majority of the time Raquel was traveling to other events and her friends’ home and rarely had gatherings at her place. Perhaps it had to do with her own trust issues after facing a break-in last year at her old apartment prior but Raquel was fine with forming a shell around herself.
It was necessary yet that shell came down a bit whenever Richie was around.
“Ah, Suit yourself!” Richie pulls out the items he’s brought with him, “anyway! I brought over some goods for your Sunday dinner.”
Raquel quirks up a brow, “you did?”
“Oh please, don’t look so shocked.” Richie peers over at the woman who grins at him, “it’s nothing big just some shit I got on my evening with Chef Terry, Garrett, and Jessica.”
Raquel sat up some, reaching to move the empty bag to the side now to eye the objects near by. She picks up a jar first and nods, “mint-jelly? Let me guess, some if not all of these things are things you tried but ended up hating.”
Richie rolls his eyes, knowing he’s been caught. “Whatever! I asked Syd what the purpose of that shit was after Chef Terry recommended it and Syd said it pairs well with certain meats and I know lamb is actually one of your favorites so I thought of you.”
Raquel bares her teeth into her bottom lip as she cracks the jar open, sniffing at the sweet but tart aroma and shrugs, “well thanks for thinking of me, rich. I’ll definitely try this out next time I make lamb.”
She steps towards him to peck him on the cheek and Richie fans her away as she goes back to look at the other objects.
“What’re we having tonight then if it’s not your best dish?!” Richie starts swinging his hands back and forth, then scrunched his nose up after noticing the pumpkin, “please don’t tell me it’s that bullshit over there?”
Raquel glances at the pumpkin and laughs to herself, “no. That’s solely for decor purposes only.”
“Oh thank fuck, I thought you were gonna tell me you’re obsessed with all things pumpkin now and then I was gonna have to cancel your ass.” Richie wiped the faux sweat from his brow as he turns, arms hunched behind him as if he’s ready to launch himself up onto the counter.
Raquel sends him a warning glance and Richie scoffs, choosing to pick the charcoal gray sectional in the adjacent living room instead.
“You could never cancel me, Richard.” Raquel informs as she places the new items into their designated spots before turning back to wash her hands, “you love me too much.”
Richard tilts his head before reaching for the remote, “yeah I do, so don’t you forget it.”
Raquel sends him a soft smile which Richard holds dear to his heart with his wide blues, before flicking the tv on, making himself right at home.
And it’s just like any other typical Sunday, with Richie coming over to watch some game Raquel didn’t care about but would still be near, either doing her “grandma activity,” which was cross-stitching or commenting here and there (while cooking) after finding out which team they should be rooting for. When commercial breaks start, Raquel is just finishing up the last pumpkin she’s been working on to place on the outside of her front door.
She waves at a neighbor, Antanios who lives on the top floor and lived here the longest with his teenage grandson (after his mother passed), who’s sitting on the shared patio set reading the newspaper.
“Looks nice, Azizi. Can’t wait to see what you do for Christmas.” The elderly man comments with a wink, playfully glancing upwards towards the second floor, where your other neighbor, Clarise—who was in her mid-fifties; who Raquel playfully called her auntie—liked to battle her with the outdoor decor whenever Christmas came around.
Thankfully Raquel found peace in this neighborhood and with solid neighbors. Although she was youngest here—not counting Antanios’ grandson Elias, she found a sense of belonging here like she never did before.
Raquel smiles at the man, “and I can’t wait for your review.”
Antanios dips his head, turning his attention back to the newspaper. He was always the one to settle the score and was always fair, which was humorous in a way considering he was a retired district attorney. It was only right in Raquel and Clarise’s eyes to have Antanios tell it to them straight.
“Tell Richard I said hello.” Antanios said, keeping his eyes on his paper.
He was a quiet but observant man who noticed it all. However it was no secret that Richie was one of the main ones that always kept coming around to visit the tenant on the last floor.
“Hey Antanios!” Richie yelled from the couch before Raquel closed the door, but not without seeing the man smirking to himself.
“Uh hello! I was just about to have a conversation with my favorite person at this place.” Richie frowned as Raquel laughed at him.
“I’ll save him the trouble,” Raquel stated as she went back into the kitchen, “and Archibald and I definitely take offense to that.”
Richie doesn’t flinch as the mentioned cat jumps onto the arm of the chair by his head, arms making room for the gray cat to make themself comfortable right on his chest.
Richie scratches the animal, “Why? Antanios is my guy! I have real conversations with that man when I crash here and you fall asleep on me! It’s like you always think he’s not listening but he’s got wisdom like he’s fucking buddha or something.”
Raquel nods at that but can’t help but to snort, “is this your way of telling me I should get you a Buddha necklace for Christmas this year since you found your calling and all that?”
Richie thinks about this, “I mean shit, I’d wear it but don’t think I’m gonna be out here bald like this uncooked cat here.”
“Don’t talk about my baby like that.” Raquel warns.
Archibald meows and Richie laughs, “he knows it’s all love but he’s definitely given me a few heart attacks sneaking up on me during the night.”
Richie’s never had a pet before in his life so he really didn’t know what he was missing. Now he has Raquel in his life and Eva’s been over a few times before which sparked her interest in getting a hamster or bunny. Tiffany was against it because she felt that would be more work for her but richie just wanted to make his little girl happy and believed if you taught Eva how to tend to it, she would do a good job. She just had to find her footing is all and Richie felt there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Which is exactly why he was setting some money aside to get whichever one Eva chose.
“Bacon and spinach stuffed chicken or honey glazed salmon,” Raquel clapped to get Richie’s attention after he dived back into the game.
Richie took his time answering, “huh? Uh, the chicken.”
It’s Raquel’s turn to hum at him but soon another commercial comes on, making Richie annoyed as he jumps to his feet. When he faces Raquel he notices that she’s got her attention on her phone while still holding the packages of meat.
“Fucking commercials are killing me!” Richie hisses as he makes his way into the kitchen to raid the fridge for a beverage.
He cracks open the soda and sips from it, then plucks the salmon from Raquel’s hand to place back into the fridge. Which was always fully stocked despite the fact that she was constantly traveling every other weekend being a web designer. It wasn’t unusual for Raquel to get quiet on Richie but the zoning out was what become concerning, especially when he snapped his fingers in front of her face to not receive any answers.
It wasn’t until he yanked up her phone to bring it to his attention. Richie looks at the photo of some lady named: Brooke Weisel-Heeni who has her hand resting on a very large baby bump in a wedding dress followed by a large sized wedding ring and another set of hands covering her’s. Richie didn’t have time to read the caption before Raquel snatched the phone back to place face down.
“You never told me how dinner went with the michelin crew? Any progress with Jess?” Raquel says, suddenly back down to earth as she moves to search the kitchen to cut open the package of chicken.
Richie blinks, “we can get into that later. Who’s this Brooke lady that you were cyber stalking?”
“If I wanted to stalk somebody, she would be my last choice.” Raquel retorts making Richie quirk up his brows.
Richie silently thinks to himself on how to approach this. Clearly there was something touchy about this Brooke person and he didn’t like how Raquel was moving about it either.
“Okay…then…how do you know her?”
Raquel shrugs her shoulders, “we went to middle and high school together and remained friends—Facebook friends.”
Richie sips from the can, “just Facebook official, I get it. So…was there beef I need to know about? Do I gotta hate the lady too?”
That earns a crooked smile from Raquel.
“I’m thirty-three years old! What am I doing being still hung up about how she treated me back then?! Especially since I considered her a friend in middle school. Yes, kids can be some motherfuckers but I mean people can change and you grow right? But I don’t like that I’m feeling a way seeing this hard launch of a wedding and pregnancy.” Raquel starts to vent but Richie feels he’s still missing out on the context.
One thing about Raquel is that she only lets, “motherfucker,” slip out is when she’s highly frustrated about something. So richie knew this was serious business.
“Hey, I’m not judgin’,” Richie raises his hands, “I’ve got, I think two assholes that neither Mikey and I were cool with back in the day on my page but that other assclown? Griffin Georgiou?! Yeah! He tried to add me, ripped him a new one and blocked him immediately after he kept trying to go back and forth wit me.”
Raquel sighed with her head thrown back, making Richie nudge her with the back of his hand, “if you wanna talk about it, lay it on me. If you don’t, then we move on but I’ll lock in that this Brooke lady is on my shit list.”
It’s the fact that she’s getting choked up talking about this, that doesn’t sit right with Richie. However he knows boundaries and realizes not to push them when they came to Raquel. So he eyes her as she’s on autopilot, getting ready to prepare the Sunday dish. It’s silent besides the football game on the tv and he moves beside her, watching her and picking up on what he can do to help prepare dinner.
“…what’s on the agenda for Halloween?” Richie changes the subject, “I hope you got the good shit for the little rascals and also for me because I’m definitely coming over later to eat your stash!” Richie tells the friend beside him as he works on cleaning the spinach.
Raquel lifts her shoulders, “I uh—haven’t thought much about it? Probably get off work just to head over to the bar or go to the bar after work and come home to have a chill night in or give to the kids.”
“Sounds good to me,” Richie replies, “let me know if you decide to give candy because Eva and I will definitely roll through.”
Raquel let’s a small smile greet her lips. She was glad that richie was making the effort to be a better parent to his child and attempting not to create the same disruptive pattern his parents had him in. Eva’s a bright girl, a little on the shy side but as soon as Raquel brought out a mini water color kit that she had stored away for traveling purposes, Eva seemed to lighten up.
“Aw! Let me guess? She’s going as Taylor Swift?”
“BOOM! You got it!”
“Which era?”
“The fact that you know that’s a thing when you’re not a swiftie is impressive.” Richie comments, making Raquel roll her eyes.
Richie laughs a little, “Eva’s doing the lover era. Lots of colors, which I’m not surprised considering I have a little artist on my hands. Tiff’s going for—I think she said evermore.”
Raquel nods, a smile twitching on her lips as if she knows much about either, “and what’re you going for?”
“Do I go with fearless or 1989? But make it manly since I got to keep my street cred high,” Richie puffs out his chest which makes Raquel pull a mocking face, “and risk the chance of scaring my child with adding horror elements to that theme while potentially pissing her mother off? Or do I not dress up for trick or treating?” Richie rambles, which means he’s given this some thought.
Raquel speaks, “I don’t know…isn’t one of the points of trick or treating supposed to be getting dressed up? I’ve never been.”
Richie almost drops the bowl of cream cheese, spinach, mozzarella, and spices mixture that the chicken is supposed to be stuffed with, “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”
Raquel glances over her shoulder hearing the oven beep, signaling that the oven was set at the right temperature. “It wasn’t something that was encouraged for me. I didn’t really get to celebrate Halloween like the other kids or even my older brother, who was the popular kid.”
“Why?”
“A combination of things: Brooke, my Bulimic mother, my weight.”
Richie deeply exhaled.
“Sixth grade. I was always heavier than everyone else, always at the doctor to make sure I didn’t have any medical conditions that contributed to it but my pediatrician always reassured that it’s just baby fat and that it would fluctuate once I grew, story of my life!” Raquel humorlessly laughed, “as if my father didn’t come from that same body type. I was never overweight but the minute you’re not petite or shaped like a pencil in anyone else’s eyes, you’re fat and disgusting. Anyways the short story? Brooke and I were friends in middle school, she was having a Halloween party after going trick or treating. She said she forgot to give me an invitation and was about to give it to me in class but the other girls that she already invited said they wouldn’t want a piggy to eat all of their candy if I came. Know what Brooke did? Laughed right with them and kept my invitation in her backpack. I cried about it for the rest of the day and when I got home to tell my mom about it she said to me, ‘well if you wore clothes that actually fit then maybe they wouldn’t say those things to you.’”
Richie clenched his eyes shut, “that’s so fucked up and I’m sorry those turds made you feel that way! You know none of that negative bullshit is true then or now? They’re the ones who missed out on having a good person in their lives. Screw ‘em!”
Raquel rolls the tension from her shoulders, “Thanks for saying that. It’s something I’m always working on and loving this body that’s been given to me. And this isn’t some pity thing I’m trying to throw out there because I love who I am. It’s just seeing her face after all this time—I’m hardly on Facebook—pop back up on my feed caught me completely off guard.”
“Trust me, I get it.” Richie reassures, “…did she ever apologize?”
“Yup when we were both in our second year of college. Two Ohioan girls in New York, me in NYU and her at Brown University. She felt the need to update me about her college experience in the DM by the way, I never asked. I feel like she only apologized because of my friend Tommy though. He’s…unhinged. But I left her on read too which didn’t make me feel any better…but enough of my childhood trauma! Tell me about Michelin.” Raquel used the back of her hand to wipe at her damp eyes.
Richie ignores this and questions, “you wanna go trick or treating with me and Eva?”
“Huh?”
“You’re going!” Richie decides for Raquel who frowns.
“I can’t do that,” Raquel quickly shakes her head, “don’t know if you noticed but I’m grown now.”
Richie scoffs after eyeing Raquel’s profile, “oh I’ve noticed sweetheart…but Isn’t that what they say about adulthood, that you’re supposed to heal your inner child or whatever?”
“Where’s Richie and what have you done with him?” Raquel scanned the room with a hand above her brow.
Richie elbows her as they both share a laugh.
After awhile Raquel claims, “I don’t even have a costume or idea.”
“I mean…you could always join the era’s tour.” Richie kept a straight face as he peered over at Raquel who scrunched up her nose, “C’mon Rocky! Be one of us! There’s even friendship bracelets.”
“No, thank you.”
Richie began to move in a body roll as he screams, “'Cause we nеver go out of style, we nеver go out of style!”
Raquel widens her eyes in horror, “Oh god, what are you doing? Stop that and please sing anything else!”
“Okay.” Richie thinks to himself before belting, “Cause when you're, fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them!”
Raquel flinches as Richie’s voice booms off the walls of her condo, “I think we found which era you should really be. You felt that in your soul didn’t you?”
Richie clears his throat, “yeah, I think so but I don’t want anymore of your haterade when we come scoop you up. I’ve been growing out my hair too so maybe fearless is the best era to go with after all.”
“Did Jessica convince you to dye it blond too?” Raquel teased, peeking at Richie’s hair that did look a bit fuller compared it’s usual buzzed cut—now that he pointed it out.
Richie frowns over at Raquel, “damn you’re being nosy about Jessica!”
“Hey no need to get defensive,” Raquel smirked, “I’m just trying to see if you picked up on any vibes.”
Richie sucked his teeth, “I’m picking up on you scrambling around from choosing a damn costume!”
“I really don’t want to impose on you and Eva’s quality time.”
“What?! That kid loves you. Not as much as her old man but she likes you because she knows you and I are great together—the best of friends!”
“Don’t tell Fak that, he might get jealous.”
Richie scoffs, ready to toss a spinach stem her way, “as long as you don’t tell this Tommy person that.”
Raquel snorts, “believe me, Tommy does not give a damn who I keep around as long as they don’t mess with me or his business.”
It was apparent to Richie that Raquel only casually mentioned this Tommy person from time to time and he’s met her other friend, co-workers, and even her arrogant older brother but Tommy seemed to be this sort of invisible force that Richie never had the chance to meet.
Richie could live with that as long as he didn’t bring any trouble to Raquel’s door.
She already had Richie right by her side for some good trouble whenever she needed him and it had to be vice versa on Raquel’s end too right?
Well…a decade of friendship regardless of their age gap solidified that as Richie tossed a wrist over Raquel’s shoulder to place a kiss to her temple which she leaned into.
Her own personal safety net, which was never too far from her reach.
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚
Read my final 2023 fall prompt here.
#the bear#the bear season 2#the bear s2#the bear fx#the bear hulu#richie jerimovich#richard jerimovich#Richie jerimovich x reader#queued#fall prompts#ebon moss bachrach
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Because it hurts
“They’re people?” “They were, until they had all their humanity taken away… All emotions removed.” “Why no emotions?” “Because it hurts.”
She thinks about that sometimes over the years. After everything. After the walls have sealed them universes apart. After she sees the Doctor one last time but only to say goodbye, to tell her that this is the end, that she can never come back. After everyone moves on and carves a space for themselves in this new world that had left a gap just for them.
She thinks about the Doctor stood before a cyberman’s head as he told her, “An old friend of mine. Well, enemy.” She thinks about the way he couldn’t distinguish between the two for a moment. She thinks about the way he’d spilt about old monsters and the world he’d burned to destroy them. She thinks about Sarah-Jane, an old friend he’d never been able to speak of.
She thinks she understands some of that now. She wonders if he keeps silent about her the way he did Sarah-Jane. Thinks she’d understand that too. She thinks about Sarah-Jane telling her the Doctor had been called home by the Timelords, how she’d never seen him again. She thinks about the way the Doctor never talks about them; talks about the beautiful planet, the trees, the grass and the two suns it used to orbit.
She thinks about the Doctor screaming at the Nestene, trying to bargain with it even after it’s shown itself to be hostile. She thinks about the Doctor and how his pity for the Gelth had made him blind to their intents. She thinks about the way he wears his scars and if she’s one of them now, or if he keeps her hidden away with his memories of people. She wonders if he still lets his pain and his anger fuel his need to save another planet, another people. She wonders if it still burns a hole through his hand the way there’s a burning in the back of her mind.
She thinks she understands him in a way she never could before as she fights to prove him wrong. Words and numbers falling from her lips in a way that reminds her of Jack, remind her of him. Things come to her easier these days, things she’d never understood before when they’d gotten lost in techno babble back before. Before she’d gotten stuck. Before Jack had stayed behind to fix the Earth. Before they’d left him alone, despite their best intentions.
Things slot into place for her now in a way that she doesn’t understand how but comes from the golden, burning place in the back of her mind that she knows shouldn’t exist. Should be locked behind fortified doors. Shouldn’t still be glittering, but hollow and cold. Shouldn’t leak secrets of the universe into her ears. Should leave her clueless and frustrated, grasping at dead ends in a way that’s expected of a girl off a council estate that never finished her A levels. A girl that had followed a stranger to the stars and picked up a few more along the way because she hadn’t understood then; but she’d seen the same lonely shadow in him that she’d felt in herself.
But she understands things now that she shouldn’t. She understands dimensional travel. Understands the cracks in the walls and the scars in the void that never completely heal if you press just right. Understands the physics and theory better than anyone of her time period should, let alone her. Understands why monsters are easier to face than the ones you’ve lost. Understands why there had been locked doors on the TARDIS in the same way she can’t bring herself to decorate the blank room she’s found herself occupying.
And she wonders if the fire ever burns out for the Doctor in the way the universe feels a little too heavy for her sometimes. She wonders if he sees her in the way she hears his words in her mouth. And the shadows she’d seen him seem heavier in her own eyes these days. She thinks about her mum’s words on that fateful day.
“You even look like him.” “How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah.” “You've changed so much.” “For the better.”
She thinks about how it had filled her with pride at the time. She thinks about how she’d thought she was fitting into this new world that he’d shown her. How she’d become more than just another nineteen-year-old girl from the Estates. She thinks about how she doesn’t bother to fit into this world. How she doesn’t try to force this world to make space for her where there is none. She thinks about how that sentiment has become even more true in his absence. She does look like him. From the way she carries herself to the way she carries her scars and her secrets, lets them make her someone else.
She thinks about the worlds she’s seen dying as the stars blink out of existence across reality as she fights her way back to him. She thinks about the way she’s let every single one of them harden her when she couldn’t save everyone. She thinks about the nonchalant way the Doctor had spoken of the empty Earth before the sun had swallowed it whole. She thinks she understands how he’d focused on the survival of the species of the planet living amongst the stars instead of fixating on the planet he couldn’t save. She thinks about the lone survivor of a planet with its twin suns and the little blue box that remains its planet’s only reminders of its existence after the universe moved on.
She thinks about all the people they hadn’t been able to save. About how every single one of them had burned deep inside of her, fueling a resolution to do better next time. She thinks about how the first few fires had burned her before she learned how to put up the appropriate armour up. She thinks about the Doctor and his own armour. She wonders what taught him to put walls up between himself and the fires.
But mostly she thinks about the ways the years slip by her unnoticed, despite her mortality and the way she feels as though she’s never getting any closer to what feels just out of reach. And she wonders if it’s the same for him. She wonders if his immortality weighs on him the way her humanity weighs on her. She thinks she understands now the adamant way he’d spoken of humanity and how it hurts, the way there’d been no room for argument. The conviction in his words as a man burned too many times.
#Ace writes#doctor who#doctor who drabble#DW drabble#Rose Tyler#Rose Tyler drabble#procrastination drabbles#this is unedited#dimension hopping rose#my favourite girlie is back <3#rise of the cybermen my beloved#i havent written anything in forever and my dw inspo has been particularly absent so were taking the win#did i bash this out in one sitting immediately after seeing that gif set? yes. absolutely. thanks to the op for returning my inspo from war#im a lil scared to post this actually ive done a quick passover but i havent posted anything in forever#im supposed to be working on my lab portfolio but instead im here
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OMG EVIL FOLIO… please don’t stop…
For you and for the Stockholm Syndrome anon.
pt. 1 here
Okay yes because Evil Folio's basement apartment really was meant to be an apartment at first. When he bought the house, it was unfinished - just a whole floor of bare concrete, dust, and rubble - with a sad looking laundry space in the corner. He wouldn't even want to use it for storage in the state it was in, but it was affordable and the rest of the house suited him well enough, and he does love himself a home improvement project to work on when he's off tour.
But then he meets you.
He surprises himself when the first thought of it creeps into his mind. He'd always thought himself a pretty traditional guy in terms of sex and dating: meet pretty girl, court her like a 50s romance with flowers and dates and kindness, fall in love, live out a normal and comfortingly boring relationship. He'd never felt the urge to perform funny stuff in the bedroom, was a staunch advocate for mutual respect at every step of the relationship. But he can sense you're not fully on board with his advances, can feel the metaphorical feet kicking at his chest when his gestures toe the wrong line of friendship, can basically see a thought bubble thinking friend zone above your head; he knows he can never have you, and it breaks him just a bit, because you're what he sees when he pictures the perfect girl to spend the rest of his life with.
And then he takes you down there to show off the finished space, ready to be decorated, and sees you stood there all pretty in his house with only the door at his back to escape. He breaks.
You're unable to accept what Folio's done at first. It's just a prank, maybe something the two of you had joked about the night before. Any recollection of last night is in the wind - along with any context to what this means - with the wax you'd smoked. You always have been a bit of a lightweight with weed, and Folio has always been a stoner. When he comes downstairs a few minutes later, or maybe a few hours - you can't tell the time of day with those damn artificial sunlight panels you'd helped choose - and makes no move to assist.
It's not funny anymore, you try to tell him. He doesn't laugh. He only smiles a smile that twists his face something inhuman, shards of glass glinting in his eyes as he cocks his head, examining you, predator to prey. He does not speak.
The velocity with which you jolt between anger and bargaining gives you whiplash. You can't believe he's done this. It's been days and all he does is silently bring you food. When he looks at you, it's like he's looking through you, or perhaps at you but not at you; it's like he doesn't see you as human. You trusted him! when you trust hardly anyone. He was your best friend! He knew you were taking time off for yourself, that nobody would be searching for you - he planned this! All this time you were sleepwalking in sacrifice of your safety. But then the door rattles and his steps bound down the stairs and you drop to your knees, begging, pleading for release.
What do you want? I'll do anything, I'll stay in the house, just take this chain off! you plead.
He smiles that toothless, insensate smile again. It's so warm in the face of loneliness. I know you better than that. It's the only words he's spoken in a week.
He comes twice a day. You've learned to count that, now.
You contemplate breaking your ankle to free yourself of the cuff, and as much as you try, you only succeed in spraining it. You're craven to hurt yourself too much, even in crisis, even if it would save you.
It is a bleak resignation. What follows is perhaps worse. Or better. You can't decide; decisions take mental space that is currently preoccupied with how to live less.
If your best friend sees no more worth in you than to keep you chained like an animal, perhaps you are one. Perhaps if he's keeping you hidden from the world, then maybe you aren't deserving of the sunlight, aren't deserving of the freedom if he thinks you're only wasting it. You hadn't missed how he used to look at you like you're some prism reflected off a diamond in sunset. If, despite having the highest regard for you of anyone in your life, he thinks you're only worthy of imprisonment, then perhaps he's right. Perhaps you won't be missed.
It's all you think about for weeks, counting the faintly visible brush strokes on the wall across from you. Painting high together really was a bad decision - the wall needs to be repainted.
You don't cry for weeks, until you do: uncontrollable, hysterically heaving sobs that choke you with the effort before they can even be released.
The pressure in your ears must've distracted you because he's suddenly there, standing helplessly with a box of tissues. The couch dips beside you and through the glaze of salt-irritated eyes, you catch his arms outstretched towards you. You fall into his lap; he always was hesitant to touch first.
He wipes the snot from your face as you lie there, fingers brushing through your hair and smoothing it down, just like he always has done. Just like your Folio always did.
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pumpkins
Halloween just wouldn't be Halloween without large pumpkins grimacing and grinning at us from steps and railings, glowing from within with a ghastly light as the night falls thick around the neighborhood. The pumpkin jack o' lantern has become almost synonymous with Halloween, from the grinning pumpkin head worn by Ichabod Crane's Headless Horseman to Pillsbury's ready to bake tubes of colored pumpkin faced cookie dough. The pumpkin isn't just for jack o' lanterns either! The second the weather gets the first sharp bite of autumn to it out comes the pumpkin spice everything! Pumpkin coffee, pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie - its not even just for food. Pumpkin candles and tiny decorative pumpkins everywhere! If there is one overwhelming symbol of autumn, at least in most of the Western world, surely it must be the pumpkin. In fact, the pumpkin is so overwhelmingly 'autumn' themed that both Halloween and US Thanksgiving claim it as a vital part of the party.
So would it surprise you to learn that the pumpkin we recognize these days is a North American plant and its autumnal rein of power is fairly new?
Would it surprise you to learn that the jack o' lantern once looked very different than it does today?
(not if you spend time in certain circles of tumblr but we're going to dip in anyway)
Once upon a time, so the Irish story goes, there was a very lazy man called Stingy Jack. If he had only been lazy, this story would be shorter but he was also desperately clever. There are quite a few versions of the story but the basic of it follows a familiar route. Man has done something that either puts him in a spot of trouble with his neighbors or else is just feeling so lazy that he can't even fulfill one of his wants. Either way, the Devil sees an opportunity and shows up, offering to help Jack with his problem. Jack, like most folklore heroes, agrees. The Devil then turns himself into a silver coin, or climbs an apple tree or something of the kind, fulfilling his part of the bargain. Jack, however, has the power of God and anime crosses on his side and proceeds to use them to trap the Devil in his shapeshifted form or up a tree. Jack keeps him there until the Devil agrees to never bother Jack again. The Devil agrees, life goes on for Jack as per normal and one day he dies. He's been a shifty, stingy Jack so Heaven won't take him but now, pride still bruised or promise still in place, neither will Hell. All Jack gets from behind the closed fiery gates is a single thrown coal and the order to 'get lost'. And so, rejected by the afterlife yet still very much dead, Jack must wander the Earth forever, the single glowing coal the only light to guide him where he's put it in a carved vegetable to help light his way. Traditionally, people put out jack o' lanterns each Halloween or Samhain or All Saints/Soul's Day to both ward off evil spirits and to help guide the friendly dead, like wandering Jack, home.
Thing was, this story is older than the European discovery of the New World. Jack and his will o' wisp lantern, and the subsequent 'lanterns' left out by others later on, was a carved turnip.
Yep. That would scare me away too if I saw it left outside someone's house. Anyway, the carved turnip, or other useful tuber, stayed the go-to vegetable when it came to carved jack o' lanterns lighting up the late October nights until the mid 1800s when the Irish Famine drove many to immigrate to the United States. Traditions are adaptable and who would bother with a turnip when there were great, round, bright and easily hollowed out pumpkins right there? In no time at all, the idea of pumpkin jack o' lanterns had spread across the US and bam! A new king of autumnal vegetables was born.
Except the pumpkin is a fruit. A berry in fact.
Yeah, I had to wiki that one too.
The jack o' lantern isn't the only superstition around pumpkins.
In Appalachian tradition, if a cow eats pumpkin seeds it will stop giving milk. Pumpkin seeds are also used to get rid of tape worms in a process that involves fasting, milk and castor oil.
Pumpkins should always be planted on Good Friday for the best results.
Pumpkins are seen as signs of fertility, prosperity and abundance.
and finally, eating a pumpkin stalk will make you foolish (because eating it in the first place wasn't already proof)
#folklore#superstition#cottagecore#halloween#pumpkin#jack o lantern#pumpkin spice#happy halloween#stingy jack
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You're the worst-Part ten
Happy New Year you lovely lot! Sorry for the delay, I have had technical issues whilst writing this chapter so had to post it today rather than yesterday. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings; smut, mutual pining and angst
Billy x Fem reader/ enemies to lovers
December 31st 1991
New years eve came around quicker than Camille had expected. She had managed to get her allocated flight on the twenty-eighth and made it back home. Billy had been true to his word, he hadn't been around Mariah's house since that awkward morning they had shared, and Mariah had been busy taking down Christmas decorations and spring cleaning so hadn't been out of the house much. It appeared that Billy was either avoiding her, or he had gotten someone else to mess around with. She had replayed the phone call and wondered who the female voice was, but after a while she figured it was pointless since she wouldn't get an answer.
She was back in the harsh cold of New York, glad to be home and back to familiar territory. However, a part of her really missed having someone to talk too and coming back to an empty apartment had only emphasized just how lonely she felt.
That's why she was practically bouncing when she met up with Mariah and Danny at JFK airport, on the morning of New years Eve. Her grin was wide as she threw her arms around her best friend, the two girls falling into animated chatter as they hailed a taxi back to her apartment. A plan set in motion for the night ahead, they would have some drinks and get ready at hers and then try to get into a bar.
"Girl, you look amazing" Mariah had squealed handing her a drink. "And this apartment is insane" she gushed.
Camille giggled. "You've seen it before" she stated.
Mariah winked. "I know, but I always forget
how nice it is plus the views" she added.
"Thanks, and you look gorgeous too" Camille complimented back.
"I think you'll get alot of male attention" Mariah suggested taking a sip of her champagne.
Camille blanched slightly. She didn't want any other male attention, males just messed with her head, or in Billy's case her sexual desires.
"I don't want any" Camille replied flatly.
Mariah sighed. "Did you not see Billy before you left?" She asked gently.
Camille shook her head. "Nope" she stated before waving her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter anyways we will have a
good night" she smiled.
Mariah clicked her glasses. "Cheers to that hon" she replied just as her buzzer rang.
Camille rushed towards it placing her drink down and answering it. "Its the taxi!" She hollered over her shoulder, telling the driver she would be straight down.
Mariah widened her eyes downing her drink. "Danny, are you ready? Taxis here" she hollered.
Danny appeared in the door way. "Been ready for ages" he replied.
Mariah rolled her eyes, rushing over to grab his hand. "Come on" she urged as Camille grabbed her purse.
The trio exited the apartment, Camille ensuring it was locked before taking the elevator to the ground floor. The taxi awaiting to take them to a small bar called "Figs" located just outside Times Square.
The bar was rowdy and packed as they squeezed through the crowds gathering to celebrate their night. Mariah spotted a small booth at the back, telling Danny to order some drinks as they rushed to reserve the seats.
"Gosh, it's crazy" Mariah gushed as the girls sat down.
"Won't Danny need some help?" Camille asked.
Mariah waved her hand. "He'll be fine" she dismissed leaning forward. "So, do you see
any cute guys?" She asked.
Camille sighed. "I don't know and nor do I care" she stated. "The last thing I need is a guy complicating anything" she stated.
"Come on, it could just be sex" Mariah stated.
"Yeah, well look where 'just sex' got me last time" she stated mimicking quotations with her fingers.
Mariah bit her lip. "Yeah, well it's hard because you know Billy" she stated. "Whereas a random guy you wouldn't even need to get his number" she bargained.
"No, I'm good Mariah" Camille dismissed.
"Sorry hon, I just hate seeing you glum" Mariah apologised.
"It's okay, I know you're looking out for me" Camille replied just as Danny bustled over setting the drinks down.
"There you go ladies'" he stated ad the girls thanked him. He sat down before pulling out his pager and furrowing his brow.
"Why do you keep checking that?" Mariah enquired curious.
Danny sighed. "I haven't heard from Billy" he stated.
"And? He's a big boy" Mariah stated. "Are you guys in some secret relationship I don't know about?" She joked.
Danny rolled his eyes. "No, the dude likes girls" he dismissed.
Camille took a sip of her drink, yes he was a big boy her mind wondered with dirty thoughts. Her heart tried not to pang at the plural meaning to his words.
"When we fly he checks in with me" Danny replied.
Mariah furrowed her brow. "Why would he know we flew?" She enquired.
"Because I kind of told him our plans" Danny stated sheepish.
Mariah narrowed her eyes. "What the hell? Why would you do that?" She asked.
"He was talking about going to a party, he asked if we wanted to go and I told him we couldn't" Danny stated.
Mariah huffed. "Couldn't you make an excuse?" She asked.
Danny waved her off. "Relax, this is Billy who never leaves California" he stated. "He's hardly gonna follow us out here" he added.
"Room for two more?" A familiar voice sounded that filled Camille with dread
The trio spun around in their seats, Camille's mouth gaping open as she took in the sight of Billy standing in the bar, his arm around a petite blonde. What the fuck was he doing here.
"Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?" Danny grinned reaching out to slap his
hand.
Billy shrugged. "Fancied a change this new year, and this one said she's always wanted to see the ball drop" he stated giving his dates arm a squeeze. The girl giggling as she fluttered her eyelashes at him, however Billy didn't pay her any attention his eyes slowly fluttering towards Camille who looked away and down at the table.
"Are you kidding me?" Mariah hissed. "You've never left California since you came back and now suddenly you want to come to New York" she fired at him.
Billy rose a brow at her bristly tone. "Like I said, this one wanted to see the ball drop" he repeated. "Who am I to deny?" He asked smirking as Camille finally looked up.
"Bullshit" Mariah scoffed.
"Babe".Danny muttered.
"Don't babe me, your full of shit Billy" she fired at him. "Since when did you make such an effort? Like I said you've never been out of California and now you wanna come here, after Danny stupidly told you our plans for new years" she accused.
"Mariah" Camille warned quietly not liking the sudden tension in the room. Plus, she didn't want his date to feel awkward.
Billy scoffed. "You don't own New York" he fired back. "I can go wherever I wanna go and if I want to treat a beautiful girl to a good time then why the fuck can't i" he threw back.
Camille baulked at that comment, it was like she hadn't been worth anything. It was just sex.
"Well be my guest, I won't ruin your new years eve" Mariah stated giving Camille a tap on her arm. "Come on, we'll go back and have a few drinks at yours" Mariah stared.
"Babe, don't go" Danny pleaded.
"Its fine, just meet us there before midnight" Mariah stated as she hopped off the bar stool. Camille followed suit her eyes remained in front of her, not sparing Billy a glance even when she felt him burning a hole in the side of her head.
The ride back to her apartment was silent,
Mariah sharing a concerned glance every so often as Camille mentally reeled from seeing Billy in the flesh again. It was like he was just trying to hurt her in purpose.
"How about we go to another bar instead? It's only 10.30" Mariah suggested.
"Won't Danny wonder where we are?" Camille enquired.
"He can meet us at yours, we'll be back before midnight" she assured them telling the taxi to take them to a bar.
"Okay" Camille stated looking out the window at the New York streets, her mind wandering to what plans Billy had for the evening. Maybe, he had a hotel somewhere she thought then shook her head, it didn't matter she didn't care.
O'Malleys was a packed Irish bar located in downtown New York, the girls had to squeeze through growing crowd to get to the bar both ordering Sex on the beach before squeezing themselves into a booth.
"I cannot believe him" Mariah grumbled sipping her cocktail.
Camille shrugged. "Maybe he did want to do something different" she stated.
Mariah rolled her eyes. "Yeah right, he's so transparent it's unbelievable" she stared.
Camille furrowed her brow, a slither of hope flitted through her stomach. "What do you mean?" She enquired sipping her cocktail.
Mariah huffed. "Its obvious he came here
to see you, but he won't ever just admit it" she stated.
Camille felt butterflies tingling in her stomach. "Don't be silly" she dismissed with q wave of her hand.
Mariah raises a brow. "Hon, Danny literally told him yesterday about our plans" she states. "This is Billy who only left California against his will when he was a teenager, he used to harp on about going back to California and he is the same guy who doesn't believe in New years" she finished.
Camille widened her eyes. "So, he doesn't do anything for new years?" She enquired her eyes flitting to her glass, her finger glazing the rim.
Mariah shrugged. "We sometimes have drinks at ours and he shows up, but my point is he wouldn't come here if me or Danny suggested" she stated with a small smirk. "The boys infatuated" she nodded to Camille.
Camille felt the swarm of butterflies growing bigger, swarming her stomach. "It was only sex" she repeated his earlier statement.
"Sure and I'm the Pope" Mariah quipped.
Camille flitted her eyes to the table. "It doesn't matter anyways, he brought a date with him" she replied. "Which we were pretty rude too" Camille winced feeling bad for the mystery girl.
Mariah rolled her eyes. "She must know
what she's getting into, he is just doing that to make you feel bad" Mariah stated.
Camille's ears perked up. "He said that?" She enquired off handed, trying to to make herself sound desperate.
"No, but I can just tell" Mariah stated taking a gulp of her drink.
Camille groaned. "Why do guys play stupid games?" She asked.
Mariah shrugged, her eyes furrowing as her pager beeped. "Ugh great, Danny wants to know where we are" she groaned.
"And that's a bad thing?" Camille enquired.
"Well you know he will bring Billy along, he won't leave his best friend stranded in a
city he doesn't know" she replied.
"Oh" Camille stated. "I suppose you have to tell him" she stated taking a gulp of her drink. Lord knows she needed some Dutch courage right about now.
Mariah flashed her a sympathetic look. "I know but I'm pissed off, we had plans and Danny has opened his mouth and ruined them" she swore. "Like he has to know Billy being here will make you uncomfortable" she finished a sour look on her face.
Camille sighed. "I mean its a tad awkward, but you can't leave Danny on his own not on New Years" she suggested giving Mariah a weak smile when she clocked her facial expression. "I'll be okay I'm.a.big.girl" she reassured her reaching over to grab her hand. "Plus, I got myself into this mess
you guys shouldn't have to suffer, I'll be civil and play nice" she promised.
Mariah sighed. "Billy better play nice or else my foot is going so far up his ass" she swore typing back before pausing. "Are you sure? I don't mind going back to yours plus Billy is an adult, he can find his way around" she dismissed.
Camille wanted to say no, but she couldn't hide forever. Sooner or later she would need to face him. "Its fine, tell them where we are" Camille urged a lump forming in her throat. God, she needed another drink she thought. "I'll get us another" she stated nodding to the empty glasses.
Camille hopped off her stool, fighting her way through the crowded bar. She signed as she waited patiently in line before finally
getting her drinks cradling them in each hand as she tried not to spill them. She had just put them down on the table when an arm slinked around Mariah.
"Baby" a drunk Danny slurred as he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
Mariah grimaced. "How much have you had?" She asked wiping her face.
"A skinful" Camille heard Billy state.
Her head moved in his direction, noting he was standing at the end of the table with his arm slinked around his date. The girl snuggled up to him with a smile on her face, her eyes fluttering up at him. Billy clocked Camille's movements flashing her a smarmy grin as his eyes fluttered to hers. Camille looked away, her drink
suddenly becoming interesting as she took a gulp.
"God, I hope you make it to midnight we've got plans" Mariah stared annoyed.
"M' sorry baby, don't wanna make you mad" Danny stated with a hiccup making Camille giggle.
"OH, where are you going?" The girl spoke up for the first time.
Camille shifted her eyes to the girl. "Ermm..were going back to my place to watch the ball drop" she stated awkwardly.
"Wow that sounds exciting" she spoke up with glee.
Camille nodded, making awkward eye contact with Mariah before looking back at her. "You guys can come if you want" she cringed at herself before yelping when she felt Mariah kick her foot, a stern look on her face.
"Aww, ain't you so sweet" Billy cooed sarcasm lacing his tone, a smirk adorning his face as he looked at Camille.
Camille narrowed her eyes at his tone. "Just trying to be kind" she fired back at him.
Billy raised a brow. "Sure you are" he threw back at her.
Camille rolled her eyes. "Don't come then, see if I care" she stated flippantly.
Billy smirked. "There she is ladies and gents, feisty as ever" he replied taking a swig of his beer.
"Billy" Mariah warned, cradling a drunken Danny whose head was on her shoulder.
"What?" He spat back.
Camille cut in. "Well your date can come then" she stated giving the girl a smile. "Sorry I didn't catch your name" she stated polite.
The girl perked up. "Tammy" the girl answered. "I've always wanted to see the ball drop" she stared.
Camille smiled. "Well, great then you can come along with or without this brute" she stated flashing Billy a sickly sweet grin as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Excuse me, gotta go to the bathroom" she stated slipping off the bar.
"We can have one more then we better get going, it's after eleven" Mariah stated.
"Yeah, that's fine" Camille threw over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the crowd. She was surprised there wasn't a long queue for the toilets, and that there were only three single cubed toilets for such a big pub. She waited in line feeling proud of how she had dealt with Billy, judging by the look he flashed her she had won whatever stupid game he decided to play.
"Bet your pretty proud of yourself" Billy gritted in her ear.
Camille turned her head to see him
standing with a passive look on his face, his arms folded as he waited in line behind her.
"What are you even doing here?" She asked him.
Billy shrugged, a passive look on his face. But she could tell by how dark his eyes had gotten that he was annoyed. "Told you, wanted to treat my date" he replied.
Camille scoffed. "Yeah right, the guy who never leaves California wanted to come all the way out here" she stated rolling her eyes before turning around. She gasped slightly when she felt him tug on her arm bringing her round to face him.
"What are you insinuating?" He asked, his deep blues boring into hers.
Camille shrugged his arm off. "Did you come here to ruin my fun? Did I piss you off that much?" She accused.
Billy narrowed his eyes. "The fuck would I I that for? You really think so much of yourself don't you princess" he sneered.
A door unlocking had her wrenching her arm out of his grip. "This conversation is over" she stated pointedly before going to enter the cubicle.
"Like hell it is" Billy muttered before entering behind her, shutting the door and locking it for good measure.
"What the hell are you doing? I need to pee" Camille stated furiously as she glared at Billy.
Billy stood by the door. "I ain't finished plus it's not like I haven't seen your pussy before" he stated crudely.
Camille scrunched her nose up. "You're being gross!" She accused.
Billy let out a deep chuckle, slinking off the door and walking towards her. His hand brushing her hip as he cornered her against the wall. "Wasn't so disgusting when I buried my cock inside of you" he whispered hotly his other hand landing on tje wall beside her head, blocking a form of exit.
Camille felt ashamed at the wetness that pooled in her knickers, she hated the effect his filthy words had on her. "Yeah it wasn't, until you acted like a Jackass the next day"
she spat at him.
Billy flashed her a dangerous smirk, his eyes roaming her chest which was heaving up and down. Her breasts moving in sync giving him a view of her cleavage. "Yeah, and you couldn't wait to get out like a bat outta hell" he stated his voice taking on a low timbre, which made Camille clench her legs.
"Thought you would be used to that by now" she threw back.
Billy shook his head. "Yeah well, maybe I got sick of repeating old patterns" he stated. "Or maybe I wanted another round before tossing you out" he added with a nasty smirk.
Camille pushed at his chest. "You're
fucking impossible" she swore.
Billy gave her a devilish grin. "Well it ain't impossible to make you come undone" he stated trailing her exposed collarbone making her flush.
"I'm sure Tammy wonders where you are" Camille replied weakly, her head spinning at this confusing interaction.
Billy scoffed. "What she don't know won't hurt her" he replied.
Camille glowered. "I'm sure you say that about all the girls" she spat at him pushing at his chest. "But I'm not one of them, so if you could leave so I could pee in peace" she stated.
Billy smirked, his hand coming to cup her
jaw. "Or I could fuck you right here, show ya how much I've missed ya" he stated lowly his voice sending shivers down her spine.
"You're such a misogynist" Camille spat at him as she gripped onto his jacker, her legs feeling weak at the dirty thoughts that fluttered through her head. "There's a line so please just go" she begged weakly.
Billy shrugged. "Guess we'll have to make it quick" he muttered before flitting his hands to her hips, pulling her against him and crashing their lips together.
Camille let out a moan as she fell into the kiss, her hands threading through his curls as he picked her up and placed her on the sink. Her legs wrapped around his waist as they lost themselves in a heated kiss of
tongues meshing together.
Billy pulled his lips away, sucking on her bottom lip before moving to her exposed neck peppering kisses along her jawline. "Missed these damn lips" he muttered into her neck as Camille groaned her head flitting back against the mirror. "Missed you so fucking much" he stated sucking on the exposed skin.
"Billy" Camille moaned, her eyes opening as she came to her senses. "Billy" she called pushing at his chest.
He reluctantly moved his lips away. "What baby?" He panted his lips red and swollen.
"Tammy! What about Tammy?" She asked.
Billy flashed her a grin. "I'll let you in on a
little secret" he stated cupping her jaw. "She asked to come with me to make her ex jealous, wants us to take a picture so she can show him" he stated.
"OH, and you agreed?" Camille panted.
Billy nodded. "In a way, just wanted to come here because life got boring without your fiesty ass" he stated giving her a grin.
Camille felt her heart flutter, opening her mouth to agree, she had missed their back and forth arguing and the sex. A bang on the door interrupted the pair, her words dying on her tongue.
"I better go, you gotta use the loo anyways" Billy stated reaching down to land a quick kiss on her neck. "I'll see you later" he crooned sending her a quick wink before exiting the cubicle, the protests of other people dying off in the background when he shut the door. Fuck, things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
……………………………………………………..
Camille adjusted herself before finishing up and exiting the cubicle, she gave the annoyed patrons an apologetic look before pushing passed them and back towards her table.
"Finally, you need to down this and then we have to go it's 11.30" Mariah cried shoving a shot into her hands.
Camille gripped it clumsily almost dropping it, before downing the shot her eyes flitting towards Billy who flashed her a flirty grin.
"So, we all heading back to yours?" Billy
asked looking over at Camille.
Camille nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, we can split a taxi" she suggested.
Mariah flashed her a knowing look. "Billy, will you help me with him?" She asked nodding towards Danny who was laying on jer shoulder.
Billy chuckled. "I got him" he stated grunting as he lifted Danny up, slinging his arm over his shoulder.
Mariah looker over at Camille. "What happened?" She asked.
Camille groaned. "I'll tell you later" she whispered nodding over to Tammy who was following behind Billy.
Mariah nodded. "You naughty girl" she winked as they made their way outside into the cool New York Air.
Flagging down a taxi proved to be a challenge. Eventually Billy managed to flag one down, the driver taking one look at Danny and shaking his head.
"I ain't taking him" he replied gruffly. "Only got room for two anyways" he stated nodding to the two vacant seats in the back.
"You two go, I'll find another taxi" Billy suggested nodding at the yellow cab.
"Are you sure? What about Tammy?" Camille added nodding towards the young girl who was hiding shyly behind Billy.
Billy sighed. "We'll find another taxi, you two just get home" he urged.
Camille nodded reeling off her address to Billy, before entering the cab the other seat occupied by another couple who spoke to them throughout the taxi ride. Camille hoped they would all get back safely to her apartment, her mind worrying over the possibility of things going wrong.
They bid a happy new year to the couple as the taxi pulled up to her apartment, it was 11.45 Camille noted as they exited the cab and into the building thankful they only had to go up one floor as they bundled into the lift.
"God, they better make it" Mariah muttered.
"I hope so too" Camille replied as they got
out of the lift, walking towards her apartment door.
"So, what happened?" She asked.
Camille sighed. "I need a drink" she stated opening her apartment door and going straight for the bottle of wine on the counter.
Mariah shut the door behind her. "Tell me I'm literally dying" she begged dramatic as ever.
"We kissed in the bathroom" Camille confessed.
"OH MY GOD" Mariah squealed. "I told you he had come to see you!" Mariah clapped in delight then paused. "What about Tammy?" She asked.
"That'd what I said!" Camille stated. "He said apparently Tammy wants to get back at her ex, the plan is to take a picture so he sees" Camille explained taking a gulp of jer wine.
"And Billy went along with it?" Mariah asked.
Camille nodded. "He said life got boring without my feistiness" she stated.
Mariah squealed. "He has it so bad!!!" She exclaimed pouring herself a glass of wine.
Camille rolled her eyes, though she could feel the butterflies swarming in her stomach at the repeat of his confession. The buzzer went off signaling someone was trying to get in, she shared a look with Mariah before answering the call.
"Hello" she slurred slightly.
"Its me" Billy grunted on the other end. "Mind opening up before I drop this dickwad on his head" he grunted.
Camille chuckled before buzzing them up. "Think Danny is in trouble" she grinned at Mariah who rolled her eyes.
"Yeah he will be when I stick my foot up his ass" she grumbled.
Camille giggled before a knock sounded on her door. She walked over to open it, holding back a giggle at the sight of Danny slumped over Billy's shoulders an annoyed look on the blondes face as he entered the apartment. She furrowed her brows in
confusion when Tammy didn't appear.
Billy sighed putting Danny on the couch. "You got any glasses?" He asked Camille.
"Top cupboard" she replied shutting the door.
Billy went over to get a glass, his shirt riding up slightly exposing a slither of tanned skin. Camille tried to hide the blush that crept onto her face, or the way his muscular hand gripped the glass as he filled it with water.
"Where's Tammy?" Mariah blurted as he turned the tap off.
Billy turned to the pair giving them a lazy shrug. "Funny enough, she bumped into her ex who got her tickets for the ball drop
so we mutually decided to part ways" he replied sending Camille a slight grin which Mariah clocked.
Billy moved from the sink and walked towards Danny holding a glass out for him. "Drink this" he commanded.
"I love you dude" Danny slurred taking the glass and downing the water.
"Yeah yeah" Billy dismissed before going back to fill it up. "Drink more" he commanded before looking over at the girls. "What time is it?" He asked.
Mariah looked at her watch. "11.55" she stated. "Oh my god position's!" She squeaked moving away from the counter top.
"Well see better in my room" Camille suggested.
Billy smirked at that. "Lead the way" he stated. "Come on dickhead" he stated to Danny who was a bit more sober, standing up on wobbly feet as Mariah linked arms with him and chastising him.
The foursome stood by the apartment window. Mariah holding on to Danny and marveling at how much of times square could be seen from her huge window.
"You got a nice view from here" Billy stated lowly as the clock flashed counting down till midnight. 4 minutes to go.
"Yeah, it's not bad for what I could afford" she agreed flashing him a smile. 3 minutes to go.
Billy nodded his hand brushing hers slightly, fingers reaching out to lightly graze hers. Camille shivered at the slight contact.
"OH MY GOD! 2 minutes to go" Mariah squealed as Danny flashed her a lazy smile.
"I love you baby" Danny stated gleefully.
"I love you too but y9u better be sober enough yo kiss me at midnight" she warned.
Camille blanched slightly at that remark, wishing she could have someone to kiss her mind reeling back yo earlier on.
"One more minute!" Mariah cried out.
Camille took another gulp of her wine, willing away her thoughts as Billy grazed her finger tips once more sensing electric bolts through her.
"You okay?" He whispered lowly.
Camille nodded. "Yeah, you?" She asked.
"Always, but even more now" he replied as the countdown to midnight began. Mariah and Camille chanted along with the crowd.
"Five" Camille counted gasping slightly when when felt a pair or fingers thread through her hand. She looked down noting the tanned fingers sitting nicely between hers a ring shining in the moonlight. She looked up to see Billy looking out the window with a slight smirk on his face.
"Four…three..two" the crowd chanted outside as the roars started to get louder.
"ONE" Mariah practically screamed grabbing Danny's face and giving him a kiss.
Camille stood awkwardly clutching the remnants of her wine in her hand, anticipation bubbling in her veins if she should make the first move. She risked a glance at Billy who was still looking out the window, Mariah had settled on dauntless shoulder watching the crowd go wild.
"Happy New year" she stated with a small smile.
Billy turned to her, giving her hand a squeeze. "You too" he replied.
Camille held her glass up lamely. "I'm gonna refill" she stated reluctantly loosing her hand from his warm calloused one, turning on her heel and walking back into the kitchen. A sigh leaving her lips as she filled her glass back up and took another gulp. Why the hell didn't she just kiss him she thought.
"You okay?" She heard Billy ask from behind her.
She turned around seeing him leaning against the counter opposite her, brows furrowed a concerned look on his face.
"Yeah, just feel overwhelmed not how I thought I'd end my year" she stated.
"How'd you mean?" He enquired
straightening up.
Camille sighed taking another gulp. "Well, I started the year kissing my boyfriend of three years not knowing he was cheating on me the whole time". she confessed feeling slightly stupid as she wiped a tear away.
She heard Billy shift on his feet, his boots stopping infront of her heels his hand reaching up to brush the aide of her jaw. His blue eyes stared into hers. "His loss is another man's gain" he stated shifting closer, so his breath cascaded along her face. "Now you get to end it kissing a different guy instead" he muttered his eyes flickered down to her lips, his head shifting closer as their lips connected softly.
The kiss quickly turned heated, Camille threading her fingers through Billy's locks. Tongues meshing against one another, a moan slipping past her lips as his hands landed on her waist, squeezing and palming her ass.
Footsteps shuffling into the room interrupted the pair, as they broke away with Billy coming to stand beside her.
Mariah's head popped around the corner. "Wow, that atmosphere is insane" she gushed.
Camille smiled. "You got your kiss then?" She enquired.
Mariah nodded. "Yep, and looks like someone else did too" she smirked.
"Mariah" Camille warned, her cheeks reddening as Billy let out a laugh.
Mariah smiled. "I'm going to go now anyways, need to get this idiot home" she stated nodding towards Danny who was splayed against the window. "Mind helping me?" She asked Billy.
Billy nodded. "Sure" he replied.
"Don't you need to call a taxi? You can wait up here" Camille suggested.
"I already called one whilst you were in here" she smirked. "But I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast" she stated.
Camille smiled. "See you then" she replied reaching out to give her a hug which Mariah returned. The sound of her apartment buzzer interrupted them as Camille went to answer it. "Taxi is here" she called over her shoulder.
"Come on dickhead" Billy stated draping Danny across his shoulder.
"Where are you staying? Wanna share a cab?" Mariah offered.
"Well, I had a hotel room got a last minute deal with Tammy for two single beds but she's probably off with her guy" he stated.
"You can stay here" Camille offered. She figured she owed him for helping her out. "I can have the couch" she offered.
"If you're sure" Billy replied. "I mean you ain't have the couch" he stated.
"We can sort it out" Camille shrugged.
"I'll see you in a bit" Billy winked moving towards her door, Mariah just in front of him as they exited.
Camille busied herself with getting pillows and blankets out of the linen closet. Chugging the last of her wine as the door opened. Billy entered the apartment, letting out a groan that had wetness pooling in her knickers.
"Danny is fucking heavy" he swore stretching his arms above his head, his limbs popping a slither of skin exposing itself .Camille looked away, cheeks reddened.
Camille flittered her eyes away from the exposed slither of skin. ‘’Do you want to stay? No pressure’’ she added.
Billy smiled. ‘’Sure, if you don’t mind’’ he stated.
‘’Course not’’ Camille added.
‘’You going to bed?’’ Billy asked nodding toward the blankets.
‘’I’m actually not tired’’ she replied. ‘’I was going to have another drink and people watch’’ she replied feeling slightly lame.
‘’Sound good’’ Billy agreed.
‘’There is beer in the fridge if you don’t want wine’’ she offered.
‘’Thanks’’ Billy stated walking over to the fridge.
Camille set her blanket on the rug in the view of Times Square, watching the copious amounts of people still celebrating the New Year.
‘’I reckon that chick wants to be more than friends’’ Billy stated plopping himself down beside her, taking a gulp of his beer.
Camille furrowed her brows in concentration, looking down at the younger girl who was hanging off every word the male in front of her was saying with an animated smile on her face. ‘’That woman seems to be getting broken up with’’ she pointed sadly to another lady, tears streaming down her face.
‘’Ouch’’ Billy stated noting the guy in front of her looked awkward.
‘’Gosh, that is horrid shall we invite her up here instead?’’ Camille asked solemnly.
Billy tusked. ‘’Why? So we can have a threesome?’’ he joked.
Camille scrunched her nose up. ‘’that’s a gross thought’’ she admitted.
Billy laughed. ‘’I don’t do things like that’’ he stated turning his head to her.
Camille met his stare. ‘’Do what?’’ she asked.
‘’Threesomes’’ he answered. ‘’I take care of my girl, don’t like to share her’’ he added pointedly staring her down.
Camille felt the butterflies sore in her stomach. ‘’I don’t do them either’’ she replied dumbly.
Billy grinned. ‘’Good girl’’ he praised.
Camille bit her lip, his praise having an effect on her before reaching up to toy with the necklace splayed against his chest. ‘’I can be a bad girl too’’ she whispered moving closer to him.
‘’Really?’’ Billy smirked his eyes roaming her body.
Camille nodded, reaching out to touch his shoulder whilst swinging her leg over his effectively straddling him. ‘’Want me to show you?’’ she asked sultry.
‘’Fuck, baby’’ Billy swore lowly his hands reaching to grip her hips.
Camille felt the wetness pool in her lacy underwear, reaching out to slowly unbutton Billy’s blue shirt leaving a trail of kisses on his exposed chest as he shrugged it off his shoulders. She bit her lip at the golden abs on display for her viewing pleasure only.
Billy reached forward sucking on the exposed column on her neck, drawing out a long moan from Camille as he fiddled with the zip on the her lacy top, flinging the garment off her.
Billy reached out taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud sending electric bolts through her body.
‘’Fuck’’ Camille moaned gripping his hair, her head lolling back. ‘’Wait’’ she called tapping on his shoulder.
Billy looked up, her nipple falling out of from between his plump lips. ‘’What?’’ he asked.
‘’Lay down’’ Camille ordered pushing at his shoulders.
‘’Really?’’ Billy grinned.
‘’Really’ she confirmed watching as he lay back.
Camille fiddled with his belt, unzipping his jeans pulling them down along with his boxers. Her mouth watered as his thick cock slapped against his exposed abdomen, her hands gripping the base as she licked a fat stripe down his shaft.
‘’Fuck’’ Billy grunted.
Camille took his entire length in her mouth, his cock hitting the back of her throat as she bobbed up and down his length.
‘’Oh, fuck baby’’ Billy groaned reaching out to thread his hand in her hair. ‘’Take me so well’’ he grunted bucking his hips.
Camille fluttered her eyelashes at him, pausing to suck on the tip whilst pre cum coated her tongue. Billy bucked his hips again as she sucked on his balls, before wrapping her lips around him. One of her hands reached down to push her knickers to the side, moaning as she plunged her fingers inside herself.
‘’Oh baby, that’s fucking hot you playing with yourself whilst sucking me off’’ Billy praised breathless. ‘’I’m gonna cum soon’’ he grunted bucking hips once more.
Camille moaned as he thrusted into her, spurting out hot thick cum into her mouth as she came on her fingers. His dick popped out of her mouth, as she stood up and shut the curtains whilst removing her skirt and knickers leaving her totally exposed.
‘’Get the fuck over here’’ Billy commanded his eyes roaming her naked body as he shrugged off his jeans and boxers.
Camille straddled him, the tip of his cock laying against her ass as he pulled her into a feverish kiss. She pulled away lining him up with her entrance, groaning when she sank onto him and he bottomed out.
‘’You going to take this cock?’’ Billy asked.
‘’Y-yes’’ Camille stuttered as she began a slow pace, groaning as she rocked against him. He felt so deep, like he was inside her stomach.
Billy landed a slap on her ass. ‘’Gonna ride me baby?’’ he asked bucking his hips up.
‘’Fucking yes!’’ Camille squealed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rocked herself on his cock at a fast pace.
‘’Leave those marks baby’’ Billy grunted, his balls slapping against her bare ass as he gripped her hips. ‘’Missed these fucking pussy and those damn lips’’ he praised.
Camille groaned. ‘’S-so good’’ she babbled.
‘’No other man can fuck you like me’’ Billy bragged. ‘’Can he?’’ he asked fucking into her at a relentless pace. Camille responded with a moan. ‘’Use your words’’ he commanded giving her a sharp slap on her ass that had her clenching around him.
‘’N-no man can f-fuck me like t-this’’ she babbled feeling the coil in her abdomen snapping.
‘’You gonna cum?’’ Billy asked, sitting up so he was deeper inside. His pants becoming heavy, his chest coated in sweat.
‘’Yes, fucking yes’’ Camille screamed as her orgasm rippled through her.
Billy moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he rutted his hips into her. ‘’Shit, I’m gonna blow’’ he warned as he let out a groan before shooting cum inside of her.
Camille panted, her legs cramping up slightly as she collapsed against him. ‘’I need to get off’’ she panted.
Billy let go of her hips, letting her roll off him and onto the soft blanket. ‘’Wow’’ she panted.
Billy collapsed beside her. ‘’Yeah, wow’’ he panted. ‘C’mere’’ he gestured patting his bare chest.
Camille obliged, not wanting to mess up like last time before scooting over to him, laying her head against his bare chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily.
‘’You know when I said I was scared of clowns?’’ Billy blurted, his arm coming to rest over her waist.
‘’Yeah’’ Camille answered slightly confused.
‘’I was also scared of my old man’’ Billy confessed quietly, that she almost didn’t hear him. ‘’Fucker used to beat me senseless, thought it taught me respect and responsibility’’ he scoffed.
Camille swallowed. "I'm sorry, he was wrong to do that" she stated feeling her eyes pricking, the memories of her own turbulent childhood coming back.
Billy nodded. "Was always told I was a pussy because I didn't fight back, I could have taken him down" he sighed. "But I could never bring myself too, he was my Dad even if he was an asshole" he finished. ‘’Ain’t spoke to the fucker in five years’’ he added.
Camille sighed, her fingers striking against his cheek. "My mom used to take me to festivals, get high and leave me with strange men" she confessed.
Billy grazed her jaw, tilting it so their eyes met. "You serious?" He asked.
"Yeah" Camille replied. "She also said I wasn't pretty, even tried to cut my hair off to make me look like a boy" she replied sadly tears pooling in her eyes.
"Hey" Billy stated wiping away a tear. "She was wrong, your god damn sexy even when you’re driving me insane" he replied.
The butterflies swirled again at the compliment; Not being used to receiving them from anyone in her life. "Thank you" she replied shyly before flashing him a smirk. "I'd compliment you but we know your ego doesn't need it" she winked.
Billy chuckled. "I know I'm good by the fact
I make you scream so loud" he fired back.
Camille burst into laughter. "Typical" she rolled her eyes breathing as their laughter died down.
"I didn't wash my sheets after that morning" Billy blurted. "For days after cos they smelt like you" he groaned.
Camille’s heart soared. "Really?" She asked.
"Yep" Billy replied with a sigh. "You got me all fucked up sweetheart" he confessed.
"Me too, I don't know what's happening to me" she replied her eyes slowly closing as he rubbed the soft spot behind her ear. She didn't hear his reply, slowly falling asleep with his confession on her mind.
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@shieldagentnatasharomanoff cont. [x]
One of those days it is.
One of those days that oftentimes end in some sort of bloodshed, simply because some demonic entities from different dimensions do not want to bargain with him. Some listen, then attack him, while others do not even have enough patience to give him a second to breathe after having stepped into their hell of a dimension.
Stephen had known that this thing, the one he'd just faced, wouldn't be easy on him. He'd expected it to happen, really, had prepared himself for the inevitable to come around - knowing that there was no way around a fight, not if he wanted earth to stay safe and free from a demonic onslaught - and yet, shit had hit the fan in the most worst ways he could have imagined to begin with.
In the end, he'd somehow managed to contain the beast to its own home, prevented it from breaking free and make its way straight toward their home planet. The result of having done that, however, is currently coloring his blue robes into shades of black, accompanied by the bright red that decorates his face, his hands, his everything, really. The poor Cloak around his shoulders is tattered, thankfully yet intact enough to continue existing - and when Stephen conjures a portal to escape from those tentacles, stumbling into another one's living room, said Cloak falls off of him before dragging itself along the floor toward the couch as well.
It is precisely then that he looses consciousness for a moment - the world going dark around him - but he comes back almost immediately so, when he feels someone catching him---
The sorcerer himself lands on the piece of furniture with a huff, a groan, a gasp - he coughs, his own hand pressing down onto his side, his front, as much as he can reach, really, while he blinks, trying to get his vision to work for him.
His bright eyes - one bloodshot - meet hers, Natasha's, and, despite the excruciating pain he's in, he offers her a somewhat lopsided, bloody smirk, accompanied by what can probably be taken as an apologetic expression.
"---Shit, sorry for... this.", he starts, needing to take a breath in between words. His gaze wanders a bit, unfocused, before he squeezes his eyes shut briefly and shudders, another groan escaping him.
"...For bleeding all over... your home. Fuck. I just ... needed to---"
Needed to get away from the seventh dimension. The literal hell of... hell.
Eyes opening again, Strange's gaze catches the sight of his cloak dragging itself close to him, to his shoe, and he immediately tries to reach out for his garment with his other hand, something pained appearing in his irises at witnessing his friend being in the state it's in.
"---Fuck, fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm gonna - shit - gonna fix you, promise. Fuck --- hurts."
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Six days. The battle for Lucifer's life and home took six days. The palace sustained heavy damage, his kingdom in shambles, but still stood. Blood of red, black, and gold decorated the rubble. Who had emerged the winner of this bloodbath?
Lucifer.
Broken wings, gaping wounds, bruises, scratches, lacking an eye, and a weak arm. But he stood. He survived them all. He won this war.
Through the debris, Hell's King limped, his body trembling in agony, but he refused to fall. He had somewhere to be.
He had someone to see.
--- and those six days had been hellish. AGONIZING. What good was a knight, if not stationed at his liege's side, protecting him? The princess' life was just as important, indeed, and every hour that passed that their hiding spot was not stumbled upon by their adversaries was a blessing, but such did not mean Alastor was HAPPY.
Not when reports from the palace were becoming fewer and fewer in number as the days went on, and Alastor was beginning to think they were better off JOINING the fight. What good was hiding when there may be no kingdom, or KING, to return to? When young Charlie was near inconsolable being away from her father, and just as desperate to do what she could to help him, much like her protector? Alastor swore, were he not keeping a constant eye on her, she'd have darted off without hesitation and been at the palace before he even had time to blink.
On day six, when the messenger returns with what Alastor hopes is FAVORABLE news, he cautiously tucks young Charlie close and hums a gentle tune. One he'd realized helped her sleep better, like a lullaby, of sorts, during the night when she would wail and sob for Lucifer.
" His Majesty has triumphed. We may all return home now! " Even the messenger could scarcely believe it, his voice TREMBLING as the reality finally sets upon him that he hadn't been one of the MANY casualties amidst this horrifically difficult battle. " And what of the king? " Alastor is quick to inquire, hoping for the best but, ever the pessimistic one, expecting the worst. " Alive, yet... gravely injured. "
Gravely injured... gravely... injured.
Cursed gods, Alastor's legs can't carry him fast enough. He daren't let Charlie out of his sight, even NOW, and carries her securely in his arms as he hastens down the pathway towards the palace, because he knows, he KNOWS Lucifer will want to set EYES on her and ensure she is okay. That Alastor had kept up his end of the bargain, no matter how hard it had been to ignore that call to arms. Seeing Lucifer -- the condition he's in -- somewhat makes him wish he hadn't. That he'd BETRAYED his king's orders and rushed into battle alongside him. It's a wonder he's still standing... the blasted IDIOT.
" Why are you UP? Have you lost your mind!? We are to come to YOU, " Alastor hisses, gently setting Charlie down and urging her to stand back; Lucifer, though alive, is covered in all manner of injuries and blood, both that of his own and of others. Charlie needn't be dirtied and tainted by the consequences of war, even though her eyes have beheld it many times before.
The broadcaster turned royal knight carefully snakes his arms 'round the ailing king, cradling him close and waiting for Lucifer to sink into him... to lean on Alastor after several days of the entire kingdom leaning on him. " Go on, collapse... I know you want to. I know your body screams for you to do so... " The stubborn, reckless idiot... but, Alastor supposes it's that stubbornness, AND that persistence, that has lead their kingdom to victory. Now, its king needed to rest, and Alastor would NOT take no for an answer. " I kept my end of the bargain... you did not. I told you not to get hurt, yet here you barely stand, one little papercut away from death. You remember when I threatened your life the first time we met? Now would be an opportune moment to act on that, wouldn't you say? "
He may be cracking jokes, ill timed and in ill taste, considering their surroundings and the state of the king, but it's all a façade. In truth, Alastor's body trembles as he holds Lucifer close, his fingers, too, struggling to find calm as he threads them through messy, golden locks. He's scared... BEYOND that... but he would sooner ask for a ticket to heaven than admit it.
" I suppose I will let you live... if only because I already agreed to marry you. You've pretty much done all the work for me, in paving my way to the throne... what a generous king. " His voice lowers as he brings Lucifer, ever so gently, closer to his body, simply so he may whisper into his ear a string of words only the king may be made privy to. " Never ask me to do that again... never. I am not leaving your side for that long no matter how much you may demand it. Understand? We fight TOGETHER or not at all. "
@the-nexus ;;
#thenexus#[ oh alastor is BIG MAD but he's also BIG RELIEVED.#LULU DON'T YOU EVER. EEEEEVER. ASK THAT OF HIM AGAIN.#THOSE 6 DAYS WERE THE WORST OF HIS LIFE AND I'M SURE THEY WERE FOR YOU TOO. >:C#NO MORE. DO NOT SEPARATE. ]#✦ radio demon . ( ♥ lucifer . thenexus )#✦ radio demon . ( answered ask )#✦ radio demon . ( verse . royal knight au )
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Three Swords (Part 1)
Part 1 - Mark of the Beast
Pairing: Niquesh (Male Beast God) x Gender Neutral Reader
Summary: The call for war means that the revival of the Old Gods falls upon you. You face the mountains and climb into the skies to find a God to help you prevent the fall of your people, but you get more than you bargained for when you discover the God may not be all that he seems.
Warnings: Blood, Minor Violence
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There was peace in the Forgotten Mountains, one which was rare to find in the old cities you had traversed to see the Queen in. The Queen had summoned you as a guardian of the outer villages of the kingdom, only you had the forbidden knowledge of the ancient mountains. It was traditional knowledge, well guarded by your people to prevent trespass into the mountains where the gods slept. The common folk of the cities called them the Forbidden Mountains, but your people knew them as the God Mountains. Only those blessed with the knowledge of how to navigate the magical waters of the river could even hope to enter. The entire environment was a trap of ancient deities. All of it was designed to entrap mortal minds and bend them to the will of the ancient gods. It was foolish being so far in the holy air, but there was such peace in the undisturbed greenery. The animals here were larger and more ferocious than the mainland, but they were fickle and nervous, terrified of you as you lead your mount through the low branches.
Frisk snorted unhappily as you led him through the trees. This was his home originally. Your trial of becoming such keeper of the paths demanded you first have a mount from the land of the gods. Untouched and untamed beasts were creatures of great value, but your trial of taming one of them was hard. The elk had been the only creature to dare to venture near. Frisk was twice as large as a normal Elk, yet there was unnaturalness to him. A third, forward pointing eye, which turned him from prey to predator and a colour of pure copper fur. His antlers were pointed, and the ends were vicious, made for a killing charge. He snorted again, watchful black eyes turning at the surroundings, observing everything that shifted around the two of you as your light leather armour squeaked. You adjusted the large wolf pelt over your shoulders as you soothed Frisk by the nose, holding him steady as you looked around the great oak in front of you and stepped around the base to see the moss-covered steps which lead to the shrine.
Frisk chewed his teeth as you mounted once more, the trees taller and less overgrown now.
“Not far now, Frisk.” You told the Elk as you walked him forward with a gentle press of your heels. He snorted in minor protest but started up the steps, the third eye pointing forwards, unblinking as he leaned forwards and dragged some leaves from a leaned silver birch to chew on the way.
“I hate it here too, but if I get the God’s to listen, we may just get to stop the invasion before it starts.” You told the Elk, although he truly couldn’t understand the words “And I truly want to part in a war against those machines. We can stop all the death now by pleading with them...I hope.” You chewed your cheek as you reached down to Frisk’s side and pulled free a spear, the metal crafted with a pattern of interlocked ivy all the way down the shaft. The spear head was sharp, made for throwing or fighting close quarters, curved for a slashing motion from a mount. Your speciality. You would need it if the rumours about the ancient creatures that guarded this place were true. You gripped it tightly as Frisk jumped up over a broken white stone step.
The shrine was up over one hundred white stone steps. Every five was decorated with an arch of old wood. The colour was once golden. The wood decorated with golden leaf and cared for when the rains fell. Now there was no one left to look after these resting places for the gods. They were all ruins, ancient and overgrown. You looked at the bells hanging from the final archway as Frisk stopped dead, refusing the step over the last step and onto the old stone of the circular platform. You took a deep breath and adjusted the visor of your helmet before you jumped from the back of the beast and fastened the cloth mask over the bottom of your face. With a heave, you jumped from Frisk and stepped onto the shrine.
Silence. The birds went quiet as you looked up through the ivy to see the statues around the platform. In the centre of the circle of stone sat a statue of a man, the marble hanging with plants , pierced with three Swords. One pierced his stomach, another his heart and the final one was slid through his mouth and out the back of his head, holding him in a permanent scream. You shuddered as you turned and looked at each of the statues around the circle. Beasts. They were ancient beasts all poised in cries, peering at the centre statue. The man in the centre appeared to be looking at all of them at once due to his lack of pupils. This was the shrine you had been taught about. You stood to attention before coming to your knees before the statue, resting on the small stone piece at the base of the statue of the man. Carefully you reached out and pushed aside the moss which covered the name plaque at the base. You pulled a cloth from your waist and your water skin to clean the rest of the dirt away from the stone, leaving his name clear on the bottom.
‘Niquesh. Beast of the Holy realm. Slayer of Men.’
There was silence still. It was almost deafening and you bowed your head before the plaque before you placed your satchel down and brought out your items of offering. A piece of cured meat. A pelt of fine wolf fur. An incense burner, which you lit, letting the sage cleanse the air as you placed the final offering an a stack. The golden coins clicked as you positioned them to the right. Frisk snorted behind you as you laid the offerings out, but you bowed your head and clasped your hands before your nose.
“Niquesh, beast of the holy realm and slayer of men, hear me. See my offering before you and listen to my words and my plea.” You begged to the stone before you took the spear at your side and laid the metal over the God’s feet. It balanced and you peered up at the statues soulless eyes before you bowed low again, “I need your help to prevent something terrible. I apologise for your temples negligence, but you are not my god. I am the path guardian...and I seek help however you choose to give it to me.”
Silence. Deafening silence was your only reply as you raised your head and looked at the swords. Frisk chewed quietly behind you. Nothing. Usually, the God’s gave a sign but Niquesh was silent as you leaned to take your spear back. You tutted softly in disappointment before you laid your hand against the spear point and drew it across the metal.
Frisk startled at the smell of blood. You hissed at the pain before you laid your hand on the base of the statue. Blood stained the mossy stone, dripping down your clenched fist. There was still quiet in the shrine, until the blood dripped down over the God’s exposed feet, over his toes and into the centre between his legs. A groan sounded, and you jumped as the statue seemed to echo inside. A noise rumbled from top to base, sounding like the statue itself was a hollow vessel. The blood soaked into the stone, leaking red stains in its wake before it continued to channel into the centre of the statue. You looked upwards as the stone eyes turned to look at you, the gaze evident even with the lack of pupils. The statue groaned again before a great harrowing scream emanated from it. The noise echoed up and down, growing in volume, making Frisk dance and snort by the bells. The bells jingled with the noise before the statues fingers twitched by its sides. A gasp left you as Frisk bucked and hollered behind you. The screams echoed before the statue raised its hands and its open mouth twitched around the sword embedded through the back of its neck. The scream sounded again as the statue twitched and moaned. You rushed to grip the sword in its guts and wrapped your bloodied hands around the handles tightly.
“Please help me.” A voice begged inside the statue.
You looked up as blood poured from the statue’s eyes. A blink and the tears were gone. The blood on your palms made it hard but as your blood dripped down the blade it made it easier to pull the sword. The first blade slid free with a great heave of your strength, and you watched as back gunk oozed over the stone wound, drenching the moss pitch black. You climbed on the statue and reached for the one in the statues heart. Blood slicked the way again as the screams shook your arms and made your fingers numb. You heaved it free and dropped it with numb fingers before you jumped for the one in his mouth. The statues fingers inched upwards, forming a step for you as it continued to howl and wail, the sounds gurgling with the ooze running down the stone. The ooze burned the cut on your palm as you stood on the man’s hands and gripped the final blade. A moan rang and rang as you slid the wet blade free, blood running over the flat as you tore it free of the stone and stepped down. Your legs wobbled and you were sent toppling to the floor in a pile of dust, blood and slime. Agony laced up your legs as your knees landed against the stone with two thumps. The bones in your legs rattled as you took the fall less gracefully than you would have liked.
The screaming had stopped.
With wide eyes you looked up at statue. It was gone. The base was left, covered in moss, as though there had never been a statue of a man planted on top of it. You reached out to touch where you were sure the man’s feet had been planted, but it was covered in dirt and ivy. Your mouth hung open as you looked around. The gold, meat and skin were still sat next to you, untouched, but the incense had long since burned out. The birds were silent again. You looked back at Frisk. His jaw was moving, his mouth foaming with unease as his wild eyes peered behind you. With a gulp, you steeled your nerves and dared to look over behind you. A pair of burning gold eyes looked back at you from behind the trees. A growl rumbled the floor. There was a sudden flash as the beast moved through the trees, rapidly, faster than you could truly follow, but instincts kicked in, and you you rolled, grabbing your spear as you came to stand. With a rush you bolted for Frisk and leaped for the saddle as claws raked past you. Frisk brayed violently as you tore the reigns free and made him spin around, antlers lowered as he stomped. The beast curled around the stone base of the statue as the beasts looking into the centre glowed with the same golden light. It was some kind of monster, you were sure, as you looked at its mishmash of limbs and teeth.
A great maw opened, filled with venom, fangs and a second set of canines like a tiger. The monster itself was a mash of lean toned muscle and fur but the antlers of a great elk paired with the horns of a ram. The back legs were scaled, rough like a monitor and it’s tail was long and armoured. A scorpion tail quivered before it slammed onto the stone. The beast turned its three sets of golden eyes onto you. A pair of goat, a pair of tiger and a set of snake eyes looked back at you, turning before it bellowed again at you. You set your spear in Frisk’s antlers and dared to bow your head low.
“I’ll kill you.” The monster told you as it swung its great head and bared its teeth, pointed tongue curling with poisonous saliva.
“Niquesh. Beast of the Holy realm. I come for help.” You told him.
The monster roared at you in protest of the name, shaking its head before it charged across the stone. Frisk was faster and you turned the elk before bolting through the gates of the shrine, dancing over the logs and dirt as the angered God behind you tore through the trees.
“I’ll eat you!” Niquesh roared as you launched Frisk into a run, the elk running as fast as he could through the trees, hopping tree stumps and logs with grace as you directed him to the left, behind cover, through the bushes and into another flat race across the terrain around the shrine. Niquesh followed, paws thumping behind you as he slammed through the undergrowth and tore open trees, sending bark flying into the air. Frisk brayed in upset as you tugged the reigns sharply, turning him abruptly back on your path. Niquesh howled as he slid, stopping in time to watch you fly past, spear outstretched, slicing open his leg as you tore back through the undergrowth.
The God howled and you watched closely as he turned, jaws oozing black slime and his back end pouring with black and gold smog. There was something stuck underneath the beast’s ribs. You caught a glimpse of the iron ball bleeding black pus over the God’s hide. Frisk snorted as you turned him again racing around the other length of the shrine as Niquesh followed you blindly, claws churning the dirt as he roared again.
“I’ll consume your flesh!” Niquesh hollered as he jumped from a boulder behind you and grazed at Frisk’s tail. Frisk brayed in upset as you ducked low and spurred him under a long column of trees and into the thick leaves and bushes. Thorns tugged as your clothing and armour before you burst through the right and turned Frisk one final time. You faced Niquesh and sprinted, full speed at the monster as his claws curled and he jumped. With a swing of your arms, you put your spear out to the side and ducked as low as you could on Frisk’s back, ducking under the claws before you rotated and swung the end of the spear upwards, smashing the iron ball in a backwards motion.
Niquesh screamed. Your ears rang with the unholy noise and Frisk threw his head, bucking violently as the God threw himself at the floor and kicked at his side, smashing the iron ball in his side. He kicked at it repeatedly until the black pus leaked over his side and the ball popped free, soaring into a tree trunk. It lodged itself in the wood and the God collapsed into the bushes, snout open as it heaved. Niquesh moaned, a sad noise, made of the pained cries of many beasts, and you dared rush close. Frisk snorted and panted as you leaped from his back and approached the beast. Pus leaked down his side before finally, blood poured from the wound. Whatever infection had taken him over seemed to be leaving. His maws opened, and snapped as Niquesh vomited, sending a spray of ooze and pus over the dirt. You looked back at the ball in the tree and tired it out of the wood with the end of your spear. It was an old cannon ball, round and rough. Iron, however, was also lethal to magical creatures. It was a miracle the God had survived with it embedded in his side. You tapped it with your spear before placing it in your satchel and heading back to Niquesh. The beast was silent, breathing wheezily as it laid in the brambles. You tucked your legs under yourself as you sat next to his side, feeling the heat from his stomach as you opened your bag for your medical items. The wound was still pouring with blood, and you set to work wiping it clean and carefully laying a poultice over it when the bleeding stopped. It was a precaution to heal the infection which may have set in.
The God slept throughout your thorough cleansing of his wounds, and the black slime seemed to disappear, seeping into the dirt as you worked. It was all gone as you laid your bed roll out beside the God, looking up at the stars as you tried to clear your head of the mountain air. You dared to light a fire to cook and coaxed Frisk over to a tree so he could eat and rest out of the way of the God. The elk was scared still as he danced by the tree before kneeling and laying in the grass. Silence settled over you as the woodlands went quiet and you listened to the wind in the trees. It was serene. Beautiful. You looked up at the stars as you laid back on your roll and watched the sky. Niquesh breathed next to you, his fur and scales shifting in the dirt as he slept on, unaware of your presence. Carefully, you reached out a hand, and ran your fingers through his fur, watching his belly expand with his laboured breaths. The fur was soft and slick, like a tiger, but you met the scales of his back legs, stroking the rough, textured skin before you rolled onto your side, facing the trees as you closed your eyes, and fell asleep, the crackling fire keeping you warm against the cold chill.
The first rays of sunlight woke you in the morning, and there was the sound of birds above you. Sound had returned to the trees finally, after a long silence, presumably caused by the God that was next to you. The God who’s help you so desperately needed. You turned from the sky and looked over at the sleeping beast, only to find him gone. There was a large imprint in the underbrush where the monster had laid, and bloodstains from your work patching him up. He had vanished. You shot up from your bedroll, throwing aside your blanket as you rushed to find Frisk. The elk was not at the tree you had tied him to. You gasped softly as you looked left and right, for any trace of evidence of either of them. With a rush, you tied your cloak and grabbed your spear, only to find the end of it snapped. The metal had been shattered and the sharp edges were chipped as though someone had taken a hot pick to them. You took it anyway and followed the claw and hoof prints out of the small clearing.
Slowly, the claws turned into toes, and the hooves turned and looped back. You slowed as you looked at the large footprints. It was no beast that had walked this way back to the shrine. It was a man. You looked at the hoof prints first before you rushed onwards, following the trail of human prints towards the thick moss. The green moss erupted with light as you stepped on it, your boots placed in the same place that the man had stepped. The moss lit up in a ring around each of your feet, as though there was power still lingering in the prints of the human’s feet. You turned your posture and held your spear with both hands, lining the tip with where a human’s chest would fall before you stepped, one foot over the other, and onto the stone. A breeze rustled the bells on the gates behind you. Their ominous tinkering made you faulter, but only long enough to hear the pad of feet on stone. The bells swayed once again, and you felt the cool press of a hand against the back of your chest. Claws curled underneath your armour and pressed tight against your skin, daring you to move.
“Scream, human, and I’ll run your blood over the stone.” A gravelly male voice demanded behind you, “Drop your weapon.”
You swallowed, thinking it over before the claws bit into your skin, daring you to turn and face him. You thought better of yourself and dropped the spear. The claws in your back left as they trailed over your shoulder and bells jingled once again. The rustle of cloth made you raise your eyes from the floor. Before you stood a man, draped in the most expensive cloth you had ever seen. The white silk was woven with beautiful black flowers and the stitching was all entirely of gold. Golden threads accentuated the flowers and flowing large sleeves followed him as he moved around you, his bare feet peaking out of the edge of the royal fabric. Your eyes followed his narrow waist before there was a peak of tanned skin, his chest exposed out of the top of the fabric, giving you a clear view of the golden laced gems that hung around his throat. The emerald winked in the morning sunlight, followed by the hanging emeralds in his ears. They blinked, one after another, before the curtain of his white, fur like hair fell over his shoulder, obscuring his pointed ears from your eyes. A grin curled his full lips back before his golden eyes met yours, each ringed with tattoos of glimmering gold, that cascaded in tear drops down the centre of each of his cheeks.
He was beautiful.
Squinting, you watched the strong nose bend and shift, as his cheeks blurred as the features shifted into something handsome, but unrecognisable. It was a beauty that you couldn’t put your finger on. The change of his features was otherworldly, but they shifted into something that was more becoming, more to your liking, as though this form wasn’t real. You watched the God turn and walk, one foot gliding across the floor before the other followed with a flow of silk. He stepped around you, eyeing you with his piercing eyes before he stood in front of you and smiled. His mouth was full of sharp fangs, pointed and dangerous. A thump tightened in your throat.
“Niquesh.” You bowed your head to him as fear made your fingers shake and your palms sweat.
“Human.” The God jeered back at you as he sauntered from your bowed form to the statue in the centre of the shrine.
“I have come to…” You started before you were cut off.
“Come to beg and grovel? I know. That is all you ever come to do.” Niquesh snorted, his nose wrinkling before he threw his hair over his shoulder and dragged his claws over the stone with a harsh sound.
The God ignored you as you opened your mouth, silencing your words as he looked up at the sun in the sky and sighed. You watched him breathe and move, wondering how long it had been since he was truly alive.
“What year is it?” Niquesh asked as he perched himself on the bottom of the stone altar, looking at the old bells around the shrine as you tried to meet his gaze. He avoided your eyes by brushing his hair over his cheeks.
You told him the year hesitantly, “When…How long has it been since you were trapped?”
“Around five hundred years.” Niquesh commented lazily as he watched the clouds again, his animalistic eyes focusing on the bodies of white which were so far away.
“That’s a very long time, divine one.” You told him as you watched him run a hand over his neck and clutch at his side, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Niquesh scoffed, baring his fangs, “I am fine. I’m a God, am I not? I will recover.” he threw his hands to his sides before he stood and eyed you out of the corner of his golden eyes, the centre pupils shifting and changing between shapes of various animals.
“What have you come for then, little human?” Niquesh asked, his voice carrying across the clearing in a booming note of deep tenor, like the thud of hooves on stone.
You bowed, your armour creaking as you dipped as low as you could get, your knee on the floor, “I have come to beg for your help, as you said, divine one.”
“And what help is it that you need? It must be important to break a seal?” Niquesh asked as he stood over you, looking down the perfectly sculpted bend of his nose. The perfection on his face was unnerving, but as you thought that the features blended again and shifted to something less perfect and more human. You took a breath at his gaze, the judgement and intrigue burning in his irises.
“I…” You swallowed and took a deep breath as you met his golden gaze, “There is going to be a war. The people have forgotten the ancients, and they’re bringing machines of mass destruction. Our only hope is to stop it before it starts.”
The God eyed you for a moment before he scoffed, “And why should I help you?” and walked away, heading towards the back of the stone pavilion which you both stood on.
With a start, you watched him disappear. The silk of his robe disappeared between the red pillars of the shrine. He was gone. You jumped up from the floor, grasped your spear from the stones, and followed the path he had walked around the back of the shrine. The tall gate loomed, the wind blowing the bells, jingling them softly as you looked up. You watched them sway before frowning and pushing your hand towards the gate. The air rippled around your wrist before there was a resistance, like the surface of water, and your hand plunged into what was on the other side. You gasped at the cool air on the other side, feeling the area before you took your hand back and examined it. It was unharmed, but your fingers were cool to the touch. With a steadying breath, you rushed to grab your bag, shoving the offerings and dressings you had brought back inside before you clutched your spear, and stepped back towards the gate. Closing your eyes, you pressed forwards. Your face and hands pressed against the cool resistance before you passed through.
The bell’s jingling faded into the background as you stepped through and onto an old wooden flooring. You shuddered as you landed on the flooring, your boots clicking as you dragged the fur around your shoulders closer to your neck. It was impossibly cool inside of the shrine, yet there was a single roaring fire pit in the centre, dancing with new flames. There was no heat coming from it. You stepped further inside and almost tripped over the rugs on the floor, laid over the wood, dusty and moth eaten. The draft brought with it a rush of dust, and you coughed quietly as you stepped around the cold fire and found the steps. Behind the curtains you could see the curl of the Beast’s talons, the shake of fur and hide before Niquesh reached out his palm from between the old silk and smiled between the parting. His fangs glinted as the shadows danced with animals, their heads thrown back as they howled, brayed and galloped across his chest in a magical dance. They disappeared around his back and the God shuddered, drawing his silk robes back over his skin, hiding the fur over his back and chest. They made no sound but danced over Niquesh’s perfect skin.
“You wouldn’t be cold if you had a real fire.” You told Niquesh, swallowing your fear as he bared his fangs at you. He scowled, thick eyebrows pressed low over his eyes before he reared back and laughed, throwing his head back. You jumped at the noise, watching the God laugh. Niquesh held his stomach as he hiccuped and howled.
“Only a human like you could say that to a God!” Niquesh told you, his voice still trembling with laughter. He wiped his eyes before he raised a hand and swiped it through the air. You watched as the shrine shifted and changed a little, leaving you both stood in the hovel it truly was. It was decrepit, the walls bowed and the fire pit full of old ash and soot. It was a dying place, and you realised it looked forgotten. Forgotten like the God’s were now. Niquesh had been locked away so long that there were few who would still know of him. A few others, other than you. You looked at the God and witnessed the shift of his face again before he grimaced and clutched at his chest, where his heart would be if he was human.
“What do I have to do for you then, human?” Niquesh asked as dust settled on the moth-eaten silks of his pillows. He coughed before he leaned back on his elbows and threw his hair back out of his way.
“I need your powers to stop a war.” You told him as you sat on your knees at the base of the raised platform, your spear on the floor and your head bowed.
“Do you know what you’re asking me for?” Niquesh asked as he leaned forwards, grimacing as his claws rubbed at his shoulder and chest.
The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, “What I’m asking for?”
The God snorted at you before he smirked, “You’re asking for a pact. A binding agreement between a God and a Mortal. Until the day you die, we will be bound to one another, mutually gaining from each other.” He told you with a snort through his nose.
“Does a pact mean you’ll help me?” Ypu asked. Fear made your elbows wobble, but you steeled yourself quickly.
“It will mean I help you, yes, but only you.” Niquesh grumbled, “Only your word is binding.” He sniffed, “So if you want to sell me off to that disgusting little queen I have seen you think of, then you will be disappointed. Only your word is binding, and if you want to stop a war...” Niquesh stood and loomed over you, looking down at you with his beautiful golden eyes, “Then you best learn to use your words wisely.”
To stop a war you needed his help, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under the God’s gaze. It was almost like he knew something you didn’t. Gods always knew something no one else did it felt like. You met Niquesh’s eyes slowly before you dared to speak again.
“What’s the catch with this pact?” You asked him, “What do you take from me for it?”
Niquesh’s golden eyes glinted as he smirked down at you. His bare feet thumped softly against the rotting wood as he stepped down from the platform. He offered his hand to help you up, which you accepted. The God hummed as he gripped your hand, tugging you closer so he could get a better look at the back of it. His claws traced your knuckles as he looked at your fingers and the curve of your wrist.
“You become my shaman.” Niquesh stated as he admired the skin of your hand and traced his claws around to your palm and down your wrist.
As his claws graced your forearm, you pulled away, “That is not what I want from this.”
Niquesh hummed, his golden eyes flickering, from Elk, to Tiger to Snake, before he loomed over you a little more. There was magic in his gaze as he took your hand again.
“Then you will not have my help.” The God announced as he tossed your arm back by your side, “Only a pact such as this will give you the power you seek.” Niquesh promised, his words like honey as he draped himself over his rotten pillows, his eyes looking at his temple in disgust.
“Then my saving you holds no weight?” You fumed, anger burning in your cut hands, making the slices throb as you clenched them into fists.
“You saving me is the reason I am offering this deal.” Niquesh boomed from his seat, “I believe you to be worthy of my help and of being my follower, solely, until the day you pass. Is that not honour enough for you?”
You looked between Niquesh’s eyes, “I am wary of accepting deals from forgotten Gods.”
“Then you are smarter than I thought, but no less foolish.” Niquesh smirked, delight painted across his face.
The weight of the choice made your stomach churn, and you remained bowed before the God as you thought.
“What do I have to do for these rights?” You asked quietly.
Niquesh’s smile only got wider as he curled his fingers in the air, “Become my Shaman, and be the one who spreads the word of Niquesh the God of Beasts. That is all.”
“And devote my life to this temple?” You spat at the God, “You would make me bound until I die.”
Niquesh sneered, “That is the price of the power of a God. I do not ask you to remain here, only to serve the temple and spread the word. That is a small price to pay for me to save you is it not?”
“You are asking for my entire life…” You told him, “And…”
The God tilted his head at you, “And you will gain power over me. You can ask for my help, my guidance, and my love if that is what you want. I do not ask for a lot in return.”
“And you promise to help me?” You asked, still cautious as you watched the God pick at his claws.
“I promise, little one, I swear it. I will have to do as you ask when the pact is formed.” He licked his teeth, his tongue tracing the tips of his fangs, “Whatever it is that you ask of me.”
You could feel your heart thumping in your chest as you rose to face the God. There was a smile on his face, like he was satisfied, and he knew what was going to happen. The air shifted as he held out his hand for yours, his claws sharp. With a final deep breath, you put your hand in the God’s and watched his claws curl around your skin. The ends tapped along the back of your hand, gently, before Niquesh hummed and sliced a line down the back of your middle finger, down to the back of your wrist. The blood welled from the cut, and the God watched in interest as it leaked over your fingers. You met his golden gaze as he dipped his head and his tongue pushed from between his teeth. The appendage dragged over the wound, from the tip of your finger to your wrist, and Niquesh hummed as he swallowed and covered the wound with his palm. Pain made you cry out softly, but Niquesh was quick to cover your eyes with his other hand.
“Do not look at the light.” He told you, as golden light flashed behind your eyelids.
The pain died away quickly, leaving you blind before Niquesh removed his hand, and revealed your skin to you. With a gasp, you grabbed at your hand, peering at the shimmering golden tattoo on the back of it. The circle outline contained a centre of teeth, like an open maw, and you looked at the teeth before Niquesh held up his own hand. The palm was decorated with the same maws, glittering a brilliant gold the closer it drew next to your own. You flinched at the sensation as he touched his own tattoo, and swallowed at the implications of what you had just done. The God observed the golden tattoo.
“No follower has ever given me such a mark.” Niquesh hummed as he held it up to the light, admiring the design before he held it back at his side and smiled, “Now I will do what you ask of me.”
There was a moment of silence before you took a step back and watched the God smile down at you. He was happy, but you knew it was not because he would be helping you.
“We cannot stay here, divine one.” You told him as you collected the offerings and placed them upon the altar, lighting a new stick of incense before you gathered your bag and spear.
“I suppose not.” Niquesh offered as he stepped down his stairs and watched you turn back towards the doorway. The air shimmered as you stepped through, away from the God’s gaze. He followed a moment later after collecting a hat and a pair of sandals. Thankfully, they too were not rotten in his absence. He placed them on his feet, and the hat on his head, throwing the veil attached to the wide brim over his face, hiding his face before he stepped through the portal as well. You listened to the bells jingle over head as Niquesh followed you.
“Your mount is not here?” He asked, a smirk painting his lips. You turned, looking at the purple veil over his face before you nodded. Niquesh hummed before he drew his hand under his veil and whistled.
The whistle echoed violently around the trees, bouncing from trunk to trunk and into the air. You looked upwards as the birds startled from their perches and there was a thunder of hooves on the forest floor. A bray sounded back before you watched the great antlers of your elk appear up the steps to the shrine.
“Frisk!” You called to the beast, and it reclined its head in greeting before letting you lay your hands on his fur. You smiled as Niquesh placed his fingers above his third eye and watched as Frisk’s eyes went wide with understanding.
“He likes you a lot.” Niqeush offered as he stroked down Frisk’s nose, “I have never met a beast from here so loyal to his capture.” The God turned to you, “Which means I was right to choose to help you, Shaman.”
“Don’t call me that…” You grumbled before you checked Frisk’s saddle and climbed onto his back, standing tall above the God below you, “Now climb on, we have a long way to travel down the mountain.”
Niquesh peered up at you before he climbed into the saddle behind you, both of you hardly a burden to the great elk. Frisk stood up again and snorted before he started back down the thick mountain paths.
#monster x reader#god x reader#gender neutral reader#monster x gender neutral reader#god x gender neutral reader#monster boyfriend#reader insert#monster love#monster lover#terato#exo#niquesh x reader#my writing#original works
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Missing Heir
Since @decepticonsensual is running a poll regarding Korkie Kryze's parentage and my own answer of him being an actual blood relative is being left in the dust, I thought I'd spin off into my own indulgent little theory.
Meet Noran Kryze. Eldest sibling. Golden Child (despite being a red-head). Heir Apparent. Groomed since childhood to take on the mantle of leadership from his father. Satine lived in his shadow. She looked up to him. Admired him. Was always thrilled with any attention he gave to her.
And then Noran met a local girl. It was your standard "noble falls in love with a peasant" type story, except the "peasant" in this case was Mandalorian. Sure, Serri Rodarch still had pale skin and she didn't wear armor, but she owned several pieces and believed it was important to remember her heritage even if times were changing. She was a teacher who made sure kids learned Mando'a in addition to Basic. Kind but stubborn and always looking out for the best interests of children, regardless of their background.
When all attempts at persuading, bargaining, and threatening Noran to leave Serri for a "better" match failed, Adonai formally disowned him, stripping him of any titles or inheritance and scrubbing his name from the family records.
The fighting was loud and vicious and Satine watched from the shadows. She was appalled at the aggression (Noran and Father never struck each other, but teacups and decorative pieces still got broken) and terrified to see her perfect brother (not her brother any longer) being thrown out onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Satine now found herself in the role of Eldest Child and Heir Apparent. Her father continually reinforced the importance of her learning and pedigree and how vital it was for her to carry on the family legacy. She took it all to heart, determined not to fail the way her not-brother had. If she also internalized a lot of "violence=evil," well, that was all for the good, wasn't it?
As far as she was concerned, the man who was not her brother lived a life of destitution, bitterness, and hate. This was certainly what her father implied had happened and it wasn't something she ever wanted to experience for herself.
Noran's actual life, of course, was actually one of happiness and contentment. He and Sarri might not live in a palace, but they had a nice home with room to grow, and grow it did with the birth of Korkie.
All likely would have remained well except that a terrorist bombing managed to kill Noran and Sarri, leaving Korkie an orphan. Thanks to Noran being a canny SOB he had backup copies proving Korkie's relation to Clan Kryze.
Satine was informed of his existence and circumstances. Her father would have told her that Korkie was nothing to her and not part of the family, but her conscience wouldn't let her ignore him, so she brought him into the palace, changed his surname from Rodarch to Kryze, and formally recognized him as her nephew. His parentage went unacknowledged, leading to a lot of curiosity from those who weren't aware of Noran's existence. Rumors spread, but Satine and her people simply ignored it, carrying on the fine Kalevalan tradition of "what I don't see/hear doesn't exist."
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