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hyogonokitsune · 3 years

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faint -- suna rintarou x reader

here’s a continuation of this, and part 3 is here

back at it again with the suna smut, this time with some slight choking 🥴

the song suna plays in this fic is snow in gothenburg by kasbo, idk I just imagine that’s the type of music he listens to dsdskjfs I actually have a playlist full of suna-vibe songs that I listen to when I write this shit

2000 words

“I can’t believe I actually put in the effort to pirate this.”

“Shush, we’re not even halfway through, give it a chance,” you said, prodding Suna in the side with your elbow.

“Alright, fine, you little optimist,” he replied. He was trying to sound annoyed, but you could hear the faint smile in his voice.

To be fair, the movie was pretty terrible so far. You had been interested in seeing it for a while, so when Suna had told you at practice earlier that day that he had downloaded it you were excited to watch it with him. Disappointment had already set in, but you weren’t one to quit something once you had started. You were determined to suffer through it until the end, even if that meant making Suna suffer alongside you.

Besides, focusing your attention on trying to find a redeeming quality in the movie was distracting you from the fact that this was the first time you had been alone with Suna since you lost your virginity to him. You tried to keep your eyes on the laptop screen in front of you, ignoring how close he was. Understandably, you were a little nervous around him after seeing him, and being seen by him, in such an intimate way. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little frustrating that he seemed completely unfazed by it. He was treating you the same as he always had in class, at practice, and now with just the two of you in his room together, sitting side by side on the floor in the dark. He was the same cool, collected Suna.

He reached up then to scratch at his cheek, the back of his hand brushing up against your arm as he lifted it. The brief contact reminded you of how he had touched you last week, and you could feel your face heating up at the memory; you were grateful that the lights were off in his room.

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you pick a movie for us again,” he said when the credits finally rolled, snapping his laptop shut and standing up to return it to his desk.

“That’s fair,” you sighed, stretching your arms out in front of you. “That was two hours I’m never getting back.”

“Every hour of your life is an hour you’re not getting back.”

“Oh, Suna, your wit continues to astound me,” you said, eyes rolling as he sniggered. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Wait.”

You had been about to stand up, but you paused when he spoke, looking up at him in surprise at his almost forceful tone of voice.

“I heard this song the other day, I thought you might like it,” he explained, scrolling through his phone to find it. It started playing through the speaker on his desk.

“Oh, I do like this.” You shifted to lie flat on your back, looking up at the dark ceiling. Suna said nothing, only smiling at you before moving to mirror your position, his feet pointing in the opposite direction, head coming to rest next to your own.

Your eyes were closed, body relaxed. The only things you were aware of in that moment were the music and the sound of Suna’s soft breathing. It felt nice to just lie there, completely at ease, all of your other senses shut off.

When the song ended you opened your eyes and turned your head to face him, only to find that he was already looking at you. Has he been watching me this whole time? It didn’t even matter if he had been, because the way he was looking at you now made your breath catch in your throat. His gaze held such tenderness that you found yourself leaning towards him before you were aware of what you were doing. You kissed him, and without hesitation he returned it, pressing his mouth against yours earnestly.

“Rintarou,” you breathed, and in an instant you were both sitting up, lips seeking each other out hungrily, hands tearing off clothing with urgency.

It was chilly in the room, but Suna’s hands were hot as they roamed over your body. You wanted to feel him, have him touch you everywhere. It was never enough.

His lips traced a line from your mouth to your ear, teeth nibbling at it lightly and sending a shiver through your body. He shifted, intending to lay you back down on the floor, but you placed your hands on his shoulders to stop him.

“Rin,” you said in a husky voice, “can I try being on top?”

Suna grinned, both at your request and the blush rising up your face. He kissed you once before laying down, his fingers running lazy circles over the top of your thigh. Exhaling shakily, you crawled on top of him, hands on his stomach to steady yourself. You reached down to guide his cock towards your entrance, but your hand was trembling slightly out of nervousness.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he said softly, the smile on his face almost painfully gentle as one of his hands wrapped around your own to help you. He dragged the head of his cock between the folds of your pussy, gathering up the wetness there before pressing it into you. With a sigh, you sank down onto him, taking all of him inside you in one go.

“God,” he groaned, eyes closing and head tipping back. “God, you feel so good…”

It was different with you on top; it felt like his cock was deeper in you than before, reaching a place that was already bringing you close to the edge. You moved your hips back, almost gasping at the sensation against your clit. Your movements were making Suna’s chest rise and fall heavily; the sight of him coming undone emboldened you. You grinded your hips against him, gradually increasing the speed, each moan that you were able to draw out of him tightening the knot in your stomach.

“Rin,” you panted, grasping desperately at his chest.

His hands grabbed your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “What is it, baby?” He bucked his hips up into you, making you gasp. “You gonna cum for me already?”

“Sh-shut up,” you told him. It was embarrassing how close you were after such a short time. Suna was snapping his hips into you harder now, fingertips digging into you insistently; you could feel the bruises starting to form.

“You’re such a needy little girl,” he smirked, “I barely even have to touch you to have you creaming all over my cock.”

Your face was flushed from his words, and you were more than a little frustrated at how right he was. You had been thinking about him all week, and all it took was one kiss for your pussy to be dripping between your legs. “Shut up,” you repeated, breathing hard as you continued to grind against him, trying to focus on the sensation on your clit.

“I can feel how close you are, baby.” That smirk was still on his face. “Is it that easy for me to make you—”

“I said, shut up, Rin.” Without thinking, your hand reached out and wrapped around his neck. His eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment, but then he tilted his head back, exposing his throat for you, silently asking you to apply more pressure. Your fingers pressed into the sides of his neck, where his pulse was beating fast, limiting the blood flow to his head. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made your hips work against him even faster.

You were hurtling towards an orgasm quicker than you thought was possible. The friction against your clit, the way his thick cock stretched you out, the sight of him beneath you panting and moaning from what you were doing to him; it was all becoming too much.

“Rin, I’m s-so close,” you breathed, barely above a whisper.

“Me too.” His voice was as low as yours, his face flushed from your hand around his throat and the feeling of you riding him. “Please don’t stop.”

“I want you to cum with me, baby,” you told him. Suna moaned at your words, and the sound of it sent you over the edge.

Your pussy clenched hard around his cock as you kept grinding against him, panting hard and legs trembling. You wanted to shut your eyes against the pleasure, but you kept your gaze trained on Suna’s face.

“Oh god, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming… fuck,” he groaned. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, feel his warm cum filling your pussy. You released your hold on his neck, but your hips continued to grind into his.

The look on his face was so beautiful. His eyes were shut tight, brows drawn together under a sheen of sweat, his mouth hanging open as a string of curses and moans flew past his lips. His hands were gripping you almost painfully hard, the muscles in his arms and torso tensing as ecstasy washed over him.

“God, baby, stop stop stop, please stop!” he begged as the overstimulation became too much for him. You stilled immediately, leaning down instead to press soft kisses into his neck.

“Was I any good?” you purred into his ear.

“Yes,” he managed weakly, struggling to catch his breath. “You were amazing.”

You pulled away to look at him; his cheeks were glowing, strands of dark hair sticking to his damp forehead. You gently brushed them away, and the soft smile that he gave you made your heart melt. Suna sat up, pressing into your chest as he kissed you. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and he used the other to push himself off the floor, his cock still inside you as he lifted you up.

“Rintarou!” you cried out, more than a little shocked at how easily he was able to carry you.

“Shh,” he hushed, setting you down on his bed. He laid down beside you and pulled the covers over your bodies. “Just lay with me for a bit.”

You stretched an arm out over him, wiggling closer to rest your cheek on his chest. His heart was pounding against your ear, still pumping hard from his high.

“Kind of embarrassing how fast we both finished, huh?” he asked with a self-deprecating laugh.

“A little bit,” you giggled in turn, tracing tiny patterns into his skin with your fingertip.

The two of you lay in silence in his dark room, the only sound coming from the heater that had finally turned on beneath the window. It was late, and although you didn’t have class the next day, you really should have been home a while ago.

“Rin, I should go,” you said, but you made no move to sit up.

“It’s already so late, you should just stay the night,” he mumbled, careful to keep his tone casual, but the way his arm wrapped around you to hug you closer to his body betrayed him.

You didn’t want to leave, either. It was warm under the covers, Suna’s body heat seeping into you, his scent surrounding you; the darkness of the room and the aftereffects of sex were making you sleepy. Laying on his firm chest with his arm around your body, you realized that there wasn’t any place else you’d rather be in that moment. It would be worth finding an excuse to explain why you were out all night the next day, and dealing with any ramifications then, if it meant you didn’t have to leave him now.

You snuggled closer to him, arm tightening around his side. “You’re lucky I’m tired,” you murmured into his skin.

“Mm hmm,” he hummed. His hand moved up to bury itself in your hair, long fingers winding their way through your locks. If you had lifted your face to look at him then, you would have seen the faint smile on his lips.

➣ masterlist

#suna #suna rintarou #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #niakasi writing

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Three

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Smut, NonCon, Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Cruel!Bucky, Injuries, Violence, TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON CONSENSUAL SEX, fluff??? Maybe?? Can you call it that????

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I'm making soup right now!!!! It won’t be done until maybe eleven thirty (It’s ten thirty rn) and I work at 4 tomorrow morning so RIP me. Um... I hope to post the next part of In a Heartbeat soon (Tonight or tomorrow) but we’ll see. I hope you guys are all having a lovely evening and I love you all very much!!

Spoiler(ish) A/n 2: So this chapter is very dark BUT the next chapter will not be as dark so you have that to look forward to.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

PART ONE

PART TWO

~*~

“No breakfast again this morning, Your Majesty?” You shake your head at your guard, turning your back to her and motioning for her to tie up your corset.

She starts tying, apologizing every now and again when you inhale sharply at the tightness.

“Natalia, I would appreciate it if my name were not one you said to the king. With every mention of me, he becomes more agitated. He is entitled to do whatever it is that he pleases to me, for I belong to him now. I fear you getting involved in any way will only make matters worse for me.”

She wonders what James might've done when he last saw you to have you saying this, but she knows better than to ask.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I ask you forgive me for speaking so plainly without permission.”

It’s been weeks since the king left, and the Kingdom has started growing cold with the coming winter.

“Today, if you will allow it, I would like to take you to the stables. You have been here for well over a month and have yet to meet your horse.” You cock your head to the side. You didn’t even know you had a horse here.

“I have a horse?” She nods, draping a cloak over your shoulders. “You have whatever you want here. This is your home. Your kingdom. Anything you wish for will be brought to you. All you need do is ask.”

“I suppose you’re correct. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have not felt very welcomed in my new home.” She nods, opening the door for you and walking you down the hall.

“I know it has been said many times, but the King is simply under a fair amount of stress. He knows not how his words affect you. You mustn’t think you are the cause of his anger. He is wrong to take it out on you. I know it isn’t my place, but before Steven was taken, the two kings were greatly looking forward to meeting you and marrying you. However, without his husband, I fear James has become a shell of a man.”

You hum, her words making sense when you think back to the way the King treated you and some of the things he said.

“It’s comical. The King fears I am trying to replace his husband when I have not even spoken his name. I have not said a word about King Steven and yet His Majesty treats me as if I am the one who lost him in the first place.” You stop in your tracks, horror filling you at what you’ve said.

“I am too bold, for I know not what I am saying. Please forgive me, Natalia. I did not mean anything by it.” She smiles gently at you.

“You do not need to be afraid of speaking freely in front of me. I will not breathe a word of it to the King. What is said in my presence stays with me and only me.” You smile gratefully at her but say nothing more, not knowing how much you can trust the woman beside you.

~*~

The days go by in blurs of grey. You rarely leave your chambers unless coaxed by Nat or Wanda, and even then it is only for brief moments.

Your appetite has shrunk and you hardly sleep more than a few hours a night, something both women are starting to become worried about.

Natalia was asked to take care of you, and she feels horrid for doing such a terrible job. But she isn’t sure what else she can do.

“We should hear from the King soon. It’s been nearly two months since his departure,” Wanda says from beside the bathtub. You’re laying in the warm water, eyes closed in a pathetic attempt at ignoring the world around yourself.

Something about what she says clicks in your mind and you peel your eyes open.

“How long did you say?” You ask, voice scratchy from lack of use.

“It’s been nearly two months since he left.” She repeats, smiling gently at you. You nod, teeth grinding together as butterflies fill your belly.

“Wanda, could you fetch the doctor? I am feeling unwell.” She nods, jumping up from her spot and hurrying to the door. While she’s gone you climb out of the bathtub and quickly dry off, heart in your throat as you get dressed.

You’re pulling on a plain beige dress when Wanda re-enters the room, a doctor following close behind.

“Your Majesty.” He bows then stands back up quickly, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose.

“Please excuse us, Wanda.” She nods, disappointment in her eyes, but leaves nonetheless.

You wait until you’re sure she’s away from the door before speaking.

“I have not bled since arriving here,” you say bluntly, wanting to know now if what you think is actually true.

He raises his eyebrows and nods, licking his lips.

“When was your last bleed before arriving?” You take a deep breath, trying hard to remember. “Probably about a week... maybe two before I arrived.” He nods, pulling a small notepad out of his jacket and jotting something down.

“The days add up. I would not be surprised if you were with child. I’d like to do a few inspections, just to be sure, but I am fairly confident that you are.” He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and puts the earpieces in his ears.

He presses the flat part against your chest, listening intently before nodding and jotting a few more things down.

When he crouches down and presses the flat part to your lower belly you feel like you may throw up.

It’s dead silent in the room, you holding your breath, and him listening carefully.

A smile breaks out across his face and he stands up.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. I can hear two healthy heartbeats.”

You’re going to faint.

He must see you start to sway because he grabs your arms and hurries you to your bed, laying you down.

“I’ll send for Lady Wanda. Have her bring some water.” You nod, clenching your jaw as you try to fight both tears and dizziness.

You’re pregnant.

You’re going to have a baby.

You dread having to tell the King.

~*~

Two weeks after finding out the news and you’ve told no one. The Doctor, (Doctor Banner as you found out later) is the only other person who knows and you’ve sworn him to secrecy.

Two weeks after finding out you’re carrying the future of Acadia and that is news you’ve kept to yourself. Who can you tell? Your husband still hasn’t sent word, and there’s been no sign of him.

You sit in your chambers, picking at a piece of bread more than eating it.

“Majesty, you’ve lost weight. You need to eat, please,” Wanda begs. You look over at her then back down to your almost untouched plate of food.

After a moment of staring at the food you sigh, one hand coming to your stomach.

“Wanda, where do your loyalties lie?” She furrows her brows in confusion at your question.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean, your Majesty.” You sigh and look at her. “Could you keep a secret from the King if I requested you to do as such?” She nods without hesitation. “You are my queen and I am your lady. You are my top priority, before the kings.” You nod, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your stomach.

“I’m with child,” you tell her, eyes focused on the pristine walls.

She takes a sharp breath in, hurrying to your side and looking into your eyes.

“Is this confirmed?” You nod, placing a hand on your tiny bump.

“I have not told his majesty yet, because I have no way of contacting him. I can only hope that after he is made aware of my pregnancy... I hope he is kinder.” She nods, smiling gently at you.

“I’m sure he will be. He and King Steven spoke so fondly of having children. Of having you. When they come back I am positive King James will make up for all he has done to you. Now, you must eat. I will not leave this spot until you eat half of what is here. If not for your sake then for that of your child.” You purse your lips then nod, picking up a scrap of bread and bringing it to your lips.

She smiles encouragingly, watching with warmth in her eyes as you eat the food on your plate.

~*~

You’re falling into light sleep when there’s a sudden commotion outside of your chambers.

“He’s returned?” A muffled voice asks.

James.

You bolt upright, stumbling out of your bed and rushing over to your window. Sure enough, the group of riders is back. But one is missing from the King’s horse.

“He was unsuccessful. We could not find Steve. He... he is not taking it well.” That’s Samuel's voice.

You open your door, smiling at Nat and Sam.

“He is back?” You ask. Sam nods then scratches the nape of his neck.

“He is... not in good spirits right now, Your Majesty. It would be unwise to see him until he has calmed down.”

You take a deep breath, Wanda’s words ringing in your head. He needs to know this. If only to spare yourself some pain.

“I need to speak to him and I need to do so now. This has waited long enough. I do not care if he is not in good spirits. I have waited far too long to tell him.” The two nod and Sam points you in the direction of where the King is.

Your heart is racing in your ears and you hold your stomach, beyond nervous for the King’s reaction.

When you get to the throne room you find the door open, the King having his back to you.

“Your Majesty?” You call, only becoming more nervous when you see the way his shoulders tighten at the sound of your voice.

“I asked to be left alone,” he growls, his voice low and full of anger. You take a deep breath and nod, stepping into the throne room.

“I realize that, Your Majesty, and I apologize for intruding, but I mist speak with you.” He chuckles, turning around slowly to look at you.

He’s dirty and there’s dried blood on the side of his face. His eyes are red and blood-shot and you realize that he must’ve been crying.

“What could you possibly have to say that would lead you to believe it is important enough for me to hear?” Your mouth drops open in shock and he scoffs.

“You waste my time, you stupid girl. I want nothing of you, do you not understand that?!”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, I understand that plenty. You think I do not know of your resentment but I do. I am not here by my own free will, might I remind you. I am not the one who chose to come here. If my memory serves me correctly, it was you and King Steven who chose me.”

You hardly register what happens next. One moment you’re standing up facing the king, the next you’re on the ground, cheek stinging and the taste of blood in your mouth while the sound of a slap rings in your ears.

“You will not speak to your King in that manner! It is a privilege to be here, and it is time you realized that. You were chosen, yes. Chosen to bear the children of the great Kings of the West. However, that does not make you irreplaceable! You can easily be beheaded and another woman brought in your place.” He eyes you for a moment, his anger and sorrow consuming him.

“It seems my words are not enough to remind you what you are meant for. Perhaps my cock will do a better job?” You shake your head, scrambling back, but it’s too late. He’s already on top of you, shoving your legs apart and pushing your skirts up past your hips.

“No! Your Majesty, please! I-I’m sorry! Please, don’t!” He smacks you again, successfully silencing your pleads for him to stop. Tears leak from your eyes and you feel whatever fight you had left in you be drained.

Your mind goes blank and it’s as if all your senses have been turned off.

You can’t feel anything. Not his hands on your hips, nor his manhood tearing you apart. You can’t hear his angry grunts or the choked sobs he’s trying so desperately to contain.

You simply lie beneath him, tears trailing down your cheeks and eyes focused on a stain on the wall across from where you are.

Hot tears splatter against your face, adding to your own, and somewhere through your hazy mind you realize he’s crying. Why he could possibly be crying when he’s the one causing pain is beyond you, but you don’t care anymore. Not about him, nor his husband, nor his kingdom. The heir you carry... you’re hardly sure if you care about it anymore either.

When he’s finished he doesn’t look at you. He can’t. He can’t face what he’s done. Instead, he fixes your skirts, gets up, and leaves you on the floor.

You have no strength left inside of you. Your body is stuck on the ground, tears still flowing down your cheeks and dripping into a puddle on the floor.

Alone on the floor you lie, not sure for how long. Minutes, hours, days. You have no idea. You hardly hear the feet running to you, nor do you process the hands pulling you into a seated position, fingers on your neck checking for a pulse.

A woman’s voice shouting for the doctor while strong arms pick you up.

You’re carried through the halls, each one looking so much like the last, and then you’re on your bed again.

There are people speaking, voices all muffled together that you can’t hear and you wish would go away.

And then you’re jolted back to reality by a spray of cold water.

You gasp, arms coming around your body and hugging yourself as shivers wrack your frame.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” Doctor Banner says, his eyes moving from your face down to your stomach.

“Everyone out. I need to inspect the Queen in privacy.” You don’t look to see who else is in the room. You don’t care.

You keep your gaze locked forward, trembling as the cold water seeps into your bones.

“It was the only method I could think of to pull you from your shock, Your Majesty. I do hope you’ll forgive me.” You don’t reply and the Doctor sighs.

“Lady Wanda, run a hot bath for her. And have someone fetch some of the tea I asked for.” You’re assuming Wanda does as asked because you can hear the water filling up the tub.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Doctor Banner asks. You say nothing.

“Are you hurt?” You shrug.

“Can I examine you?” You nod. He lays you down and presses the stethoscope to your stomach, nodding once then sitting between your legs. He flips your skirts up and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I will need to have a word with his Majesty. He cannot be so rough while you are with child.” You shake your head, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t want me to tell him?” You nod. He sighs but agrees.

“You must rest though, Your Majesty. I can only imagine how much pain you are in.” When you still say nothing he sighs and rises to his feet.

“From what I gathered, all is well with the child. It will take a few days for you to heal properly, and I recommend you eat more and add more meats and cheeses to your diet. You need to gain weight and sleep more. Both you and your child require that. I will inform the chefs of your change in meal schedule. I expect you to follow it this time.” You simply nod and the doctor leaves without another word.

Wanda is at your side before you can fall back into the abyss of numbness, helping you to the bathtub and pulling your soiled dress from your body.

“I’ll have it disposed of. You spend as much time as you’d like in the tub. I sent Nat and Sam to fetch tea and soup for you. No one has seen the King since...” She trails off, a frown on her lips at the way you make no sign of having even heard her.

A knock on the door pulls her from her worries momentarily and she hurries to open it.

Nat comes in, a tray in her hand, and Sam is standing guard at the door, under strict order from the redhead not to let the King anywhere near your chambers.

“How is she?” Nat asks. Wanda shakes her head, sighing heavily. “She hasn’t spoken a word. Not even to Doctor Banner. I fear he may have done damage that cannot be healed.” Nat nods, her eyes on you.

“Your Majesty? I’ve brought you some soup and tea. Doctor Banner has said that you need to eat more.” She sits on the padded vanity stool after tugging it to the bathtub and sets the tray down on the floor beside her.

She picks up the soup and offers you the bowl, at which you simply stare. She sighs and raises a spoonful of it to her mouth, blowing on it gently before offering it to you. You open your mouth and allow her to spoon-feed you the warm soup.

It takes both women to get you out of the tub and into bed, but once you’re in bed you never want to move.

Wanda blows out the few candles you had in your chambers and her and Nat quietly leave.

~*~

“She’s been up for several hours. She lit a fire a few hours ago and has been sitting in front of it ever since,” Nat whispers, looking at the brunette with sad eyes.

“The King has destroyed her spirit,” Wanda whispers back. You sit perfectly poised in front of the fire, your back facing the two women.

“Has she spoken yet?” Wanda asks, to which Nat replies with a sad shake of her head.

Your fingers poke at your stomach, hatred in your heart for the life growing within you.

A plate of fruit and nuts sits in front of you, one you’ve been nibbling at since the early hours of the morning.

You’re not meaning to be silent, you simply have nothing left to say to anyone, no fight in you and nothing left to give. You’re tired and absolutely done with this life that you’re living.

“Nat?” The two watch you carefully for any reaction to the King’s voice.

“You should be beaten for all that you’ve done to her,” Nat says matter-of-factly. The King sighs and you hear his footsteps slow as he approaches your door.

“I came to talk to her. To apologize and explain.” The redhead snorts. “It’s a little bit late for that, Your Majesty. She hasn’t spoken a word since we found her yesterday. I doubt she wants anything to do with you.” You couldn’t care less at this point.

“Please?” The redhead sighs but steps aside, allowing her King access to his wife.

“(Y/n)?” You don’t move, eyes focused on the flames in front of you. He sits himself down beside you, eyes on the side of your face.

You’ve lost weight. Your face is slimmer, less lively than last he saw it. The bags under your eyes have only grown and you look... exhausted.

“May I have a moment alone with her? Please?” The two women exchange glances before slowly nodding.

“We will be just beyond the door if you need anything from us, Your Majesty.” He knows they’re not talking to him. As soon as the door is closed he sighs, shoulders slumping forward.

“I will never be able to apologize for all that I have done to you. You... you have endured far more than you should have and I have treated you unfairly. I have... I have brutalized you and broken you down. I take full responsibility for my actions.”

He sighs heavily before continuing, his voice quiet and broken.

“I miss my husband. And although that is no excuse, it is my explanation. I have never been one to love easily, and loving him... it was hard to accept for the longest time. And then I opened myself up to a love I have never experienced before, only to have him ripped from my grasp.

“We chose you specifically. Your beauty and wit... we knew you would make a wonderful queen. He would talk about you at night, we would discuss what having you would be like. And now every time I look at you I see him and it pains me. Because you are a dream that he and I were meant to share. It is wrong for me to take that out on you and I will never ever be deserving of your forgiveness.”

When you still say nothing he sighs.

“I... I would like for us to be civil, at the very least. And I know you have tried and I have not been open to this before, but I would like to start over if you’ll allow it.”

Even if you didn’t want to be civil with him, his word trumps yours.

“Join me for dinner tonight? I will have the cooks prepare whatever you would like to eat.”

You don’t want to eat a single damn thing. But do you really have a choice?

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loudsuitlover · 4 years

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Bad mom

A/N: Doctor Harry’s Blurb again. I’m doing different things here and now the narrative is going to change. I feel like writing like this now. Hope you feel like reading like this too!

He still holds her close in bed even after eight years of marriage. Who would have thought that he’d be such a cuddler? But then again he couldn’t possibly know for before he wouldn’t want to sleep with anybody else but now, fourteen years later, he gets a shiver if he thinks of not having the shape of her body marked on their mattress.

She was already asleep when he got home and he would chop his own finger off before he woke her up these days so he checked on the kids, silently, just because he missed their chubby hands and the way they would stink his white shirts every time and how Hughie would say daddy and Dylan would always prefer his mum. They were both fast asleep on their matching beds, one on each far wall of the room and their room was a little messy so a small smile crept onto his lips for he reminds Blue telling him kids are just kids, babe, and they are messy and so is your wife, so you gotta get used to it.

Baby Ana’s deep breaths soothe his heart as he watches his youngest baby’s cherry mouth opened buried under thick, pink lips just like her mum’s. Harry thinks she looks so much like Blue when she’s asleep but then she’d open her eyes and they would be a light green, just like his, and he never even dreamt about making someone so gorgeous.

It might look weird from the outside, a man getting home after 16 hours of duty and watching his family sleep one by one but he’s so used to it he doesn’t question it anymore. If he gets home at night, he’d check on his sleeping babies and then he’d undress and get to bed next to his calm.

She’s wearing one of his t-shirts and has her hands under her chin and looks like a little spoon even if the space behind her as remained unoccupied when she fell asleep. He smiles because that’s his spot and he feels his heart fluttering before he finally feels the soft mattress under his heavy lengs and he rests his head on the pillow, inhaling her scent through her soft natural hair and he gently places a hand on her waist, not wanting to disturb her, but in a second her hand find his and she takes them to her chest so he’s fully holding her. He smiles behind her, he’s not sure whether she’s awake or not, so he just presses a kiss against her cotton covered shoulder and let sleep take over him.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for when he hears his youngest whimpering from her nursery but Blue’s already not in bed. Her spot is still warm though. He sinks his head on the pillow and stares at the ceiling only illuminated by the white moonlight coming in through the window and he waits for some minutes but when she doesn’t settle, he gets up and makes his way down the hall and towards his daughter’s nursery.

His wife is holding her and she’s rocking her and whispering sweet nothings but the little one doesn’t stop crying so he notices, his wife is crying too.

“Come on, lovie.” Her voice croaks. “I don’t know what you want...”

Her hand cups her daughter’s cheek as she rocks and shushes her but she wonders why does it seem so hard for them to get along. She’s raised two boys already and even though they were indeed allergic to sleep at some points, she always calmed them down... With Ana though, she doesn’t seem to get it.

“I don’t know what you want...” She repeats. “You’re not sick.” She whispers.

Harry places a hand on her shoulder and she flinches scared.

“Sorry” He whispers.

She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. He won’t say he likes seeing her crying because he doesn’t, he hates it, but he likes that she’s not afraid to do that in front of him. His hand caress her shoulder warmly and she rests her head on his chest as she keeps rocking the fussy little one.

“I’m sorry we woke you.” She whispers. “I just... I can’t settle her, Harry.” She cries too. “I don’t know what she needs, I... It took me forever to put her down last night and now...”

Her husband shushes her. He presses a kiss on her forehead and takes the baby from her and her cries become louder so he tells his wife to go back to bed. She needs to get out of there, she needs to stop watching her baby cry like that because it breaks her heart; it breaks her heart to think she might be in pain or hungry or scared and she can’t help her. Her baby girl doesn’t seem to find calmness on the arms of her own mother so she can’t help but feel like a failure.

She makes her way inside the bathroom and she washes her desperate tears off with warm water before she has a look at herself in the mirror. She looks exhausted and she hasn’t played as much as she’d like with her boys today. She sent Hughie into the playroom earlier, right after dinner, because she just wanted to have a second of quiet and she feels terrible for that. She didn’t really listened to Dylan talking about that book he’s reading either, she pretended she did, but really she was thinking about the groceries she needed to get the following day; and God, she wished she would have listened to him.

She wishes she was better. She knows they deserver better. All of them. The boys, the baby and her husband. She turns to the side so she can have a look at herself in the mirror. She hasn’t worked out in months and her belly hasn’t looked flat in more than a year and her hair is frizzy and her skin is dry and she has the darkest dark eyes she has ever even seen; and she’s a doctor, so that’s saying a lot.

Tomorrow will be another day and she can plan everything again and she can have a schedule. She thinks Harry’s day off is tomorrow too so maybe he can take the children to Gemma’s and she can sign up at the gym or she can wake up at five, yeah, and have a run before the day starts. She doesn’t need time to read either, she probably spends too much time reading anyway, and instead she can actually play with her kids. She feels like she never really plays with them.

She’s tiptoing along the thin line between sleep and reality when the door of their room half-shuts and her husband silently walks in. She doesn’t remember exactly when baby Ana had settled, but she knows it was him who calmed her down. She’s embarrassed but her hazel eyes meet his green ones and he’s giving her a warm smile despite the evident tiresome on his eyes. He’s been at the hospital working for more than 12 hours and she gets home to this...

He leans closer to her and she wonders how he even has the will to do such a thing when she’s disguting and probably smells of milk, for her breasts still leak sometimes, and is the farthest thing from appealing she can think of. But he stills leans in and captures her dry lips with his on an innocent peck. He looks so good, he’s always had, and that two-days stubble look so good and she wants to cry again.

“Go back to sleep, m’love.” He whispers. “Baby’s asleep too.”

Her heart draws in. He put her down, she can’t even manage to calm her down.

“Do you think I’m a bad mum?”

Her hazel eyes bore into his and his heart breaks when he realizes she’s seriously waiting for an answer. So she really doesn’t know? She really thinks he might think that?

“What are you talking about?” He frowns. “Where’s this coming from?”

She turns her body so she’s facing the ceiling instead and her back is resting against the mattress.

“Hughie said he liked daddy’s porridge better this morning” she starts “and I didn’t even know what he meant. I thought we did it the exact same way... And then Dylan was so excited telling me about his book and I didn’t pay attention to him” she sobs “and baby Ana, I think she just doesn’t like me.” She shrugs.

“You’re her Mum.” Harry whispers. “Of course she likes you. She shushes faster with me because she can’t smell the milk but she wouldn’t go a day without you, I know that.” His fingers gather his wife’s tears as he keeps talking. “And Hughie just meant cinnamon because the other day we ran out of honey so I added cinnamon instead and he loved it. I must have forgotten to mentioned it to you. And about Dylan... Dylan tells you every little thing that comes to his mind, it’s normal that sometimes you disconnect, baby.” He chuckles and despite her tears she chuckles along.

“He’s a very smart boy.” She says. “He thinks a lot and he’s pretty imaginative.”

“I wonder who he got that from...” He jokes and she smiles at him.

“I’m sorry.” She confesses. “I’m sorry that you get home to a wife who looks like she doesn’t know where the mirror is and who can’t manage to calm her own freaking baby and who... doesn’t even let you sleep at night with her senseless drama.” She rolls her eyes.

“Hey” his fingers gently grip her chin and he makes her look into his eyes “I love you” he reassures her “like crazy and every hour I’m just counting how much longer until I get to be with you, okay? So don’t think that. Please. I love you, Blue and I’m so fucking glad and lucky for having you and the family we’ve made together. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Not even my muffin top?” She pinches her belly and he chuckles.

“Not even. I think your body is perfect.”

“No, you don’t.” She laughs. “I’m chubby.”

He rolls his eyes before he hovers her and pins her against the mattress. His lips smash against hers in an almost teenage way and she feels that same fire on the pit of her stomach, much like she did fourteen years ago and he feels like a hormoned boy, despite his forty-one years of life and he thinks he’ll always feel vulnerable and desperate for her.

“I thought we were past this, love.” He whispers against her lips. “You’re the sexiest woman on Earth.”

His hand moves down to her ass and he squeezes her flesh making her smile.

“And you say you never lie.”

“That’s right.” He kisses her again. “I don’t.”

“I love you.” She says against her lips.

“I love you too.”

He aligns his hips with hers. His right hand supports his weight on the mattress next to her head while the other squeezes her flesh on her ass and hips. He’s never been able to understand why or how she could ever get insecure and during their time together, it’s true she’s gotten a lot better, but she has still sometimes been insecure about her body and he’s hated every time.

But they understand each other; they’ve had for years and he’s never stopped wanting to be close to her. Ever. His hand moves down to her belly and he slips his fingers under the hem of her sweatpants and her knickers, feeling how wet she is on his fingertips.

“Mhm, baby” He hums against her lips.

“Yeah, embarrasingly wet, I know” she giggles “you’re so hot, H, there’s nothing I can do.”

He laughs against her mouth. Is that what she really thinks? Well, he attracts female’s attention, he’s not an idiot, he notices that; but he’s getting some grey hairs now too and she’s still six years younger, like she’s always been, and she really is the most beautiful woman he knows. He’s seen his coworkers staring at her and her own students whispering about it when she gets a male one in practice. But somehow, she sleeps in his bed every night and she could leave but she doesn’t so she must feel the same way.

His fingers thrust inside her and she arches her back and moans. He keeps kissing her and is amazed at how in these moments, it feels like time haven’t passed. She’s the same Blue and he’s the same Harry but they’ve moved in together, they’ve gotten married, they’ve done surgeries together, they’ve had three kids, they’ve bought a house, he’s been sick and she’s taken care of him; she’s been sick and he’s taken care of her; and he wouldn’t change her or anything they have together for anything in the world.

It’s in these moments too, when Blue doesn’t feel like she has to be better or like she’s not doing enough; she is enough. She’s more than that. She’s what he wants and she’s what she wants too and everything is fine. She’s lucky, she’s so damn lucky for the family she has and for the husband she married and for everything else.

His fingers speed up and she sinks her head on the pillow so his mouth attacks her neck and she moans louder.

“Baby, we’re gonna wake Anie up.”

“Then be quiet.” He whispers on her ear.

She giggles at that and his teeth skim her skin as he grins but his fingers keep moving in and out of her and he’s touching just that place she loves and she needs him so bad. She loves him and she wants him and she so desperately wants to feel him stretching her like every other time he’s had her before.

“Baby” she moans “if we wake her up...”

“We won’t.” He whispers.

“It’s so hard to put her down...”

“Yeah, I know, it really is hard to put this down.”

She giggles again and he chuckles at his own joke but his fingers keep bringing her to the edge and her nipples are getting harder as she bites her bottom lip.

“Do you want me to stop?” He smirks, already knowing the answer.

“No” She gasps “but you should.”

“There’s something down here that doesn’t agree.”

He chuckles as her walls start throbbing around his fingers and her back arches as she feels her mind leaving her body and strong waves pushing all her stress out of her too.

Harry smiles and rests his forehead against hers.

“Better?”

She nods.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She nods again and her hands cup his jaw as she kisses him deeply. He’s a sucker for these kisses, when her tongue pushes inside his mouth and she lets him know how much he means to her.

“But we might wake Anie up...” He grins.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.”

He laughs.

He takes her sweatpants and knickers off and she does the same with his white boxers. His hard lenght springs free and hits her wetness and he circles his hips so she can feel him adding pressure on her. His hands grip her waist and she knows he’s seconds away from thrusting inside her so she takes a deep breath and gets ready to take him and like that his manhood slips inside her inch by inch and she throws her head back and sighs.

He pushes in and out of her slowly and her hands stick to his shoulders and his biceps as she pulls him closer. Her soft fingers tangle on his hair and she pulls from it so his mouth covers hers and he bites on her full bottom lip.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispers and despite the years, he sounds so sexy to her, he always does when he wants to.

“Yes.” She gasps. “But I want more.”

She feels him smiling against her mouth and supporting his weight on her waist, he threads her onto him again harder and faster and her head spins until she’s afraid it might turn molten. She feels her own bowels bouncing inside her and the screams get stuck on her throat as he keeps pushing in and pulling out of her.

“Don’t stop, Harry, don’t stop.”

“Fuck.”

Her low moans mix with his grunts and her hands travel across his skin, almost marking him when he hits the right spot and his hands hold her waist as he pushes inside her. He only feels like this when he’s fucking her and that’s why he’s addicted to her because this is the best feeling in the world, when his heart flutters and he can feel his pulse on his temples and his skin is covered in sweat and goosebumps and he can feel the urge to cum on his spine. He loves her. He loves this woman with everything he has and everything he doesn’t.

“That’s it, love.” She whispers on his earshell. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad. I fucking love you, H.”

“Fuck” he grunts “I love you.”

She holds his shoulders close to her chest and they gasp into each other’s mouths as he keeps pounding inside her. She can feel the weight of overwhelming pleasure falling over her and she can think of nothing other than him and the way he sounds and the way he smells and how he’s touching her inside. Her legs tremble around his hips.

“Come on, baby” He whispers “Cum for me.”

He’s close. He’s so fucking close, he’s not sure he can hold it in anymore. Yet he wants to feel her. He knows she needs this but he needs her just as much.

“Cum with me, baby.”

She does and she feels his hot, sticky cum filling her and a wide smile draws on her face and she sinks her head on the pillow but he pulls from her chin so he can kiss her and he does it deeply and slowly and she can feel it, how much he loves her, and she just loves him back.

They don’t say anything else until they fall asleep tangled up on one another.

The four of them are awake when she wakes up and as she makes her way to the kitchen, she can’t help the little smirk on her face. Harry made sure she could sleep in and that alone warms her heart so walking inside the kitchen and finding her little smurfs sitting on the table helping their daddy make breakfast drives her crazy from love.

Baby Anie jumps on Harry’s hip and stretches her arms out for her and she feels her heart about to explode with love for the little angel. It seems like they’re back to being friends. Harry gives the baby a look before his eyes meet with hers. They smile, sharing the secret of what happened hours ago in their bed, and she mouths a silent thank you and he mouths back love you.

She takes the baby from his hip and pecks his lips swiftly and her boys look up from the pancakes and smile at her.

“Morning, mummy!” Dylan hugs her waist and her fingers caress his dark straight hair as she hugs him close.

“Morning, dear. Morning, Hughie.”

“Morning, mummy!” Hughie grins. “We made pancakes!”

“Yeah, they smell awesome! Thank you, boys!”

“And read, read what we wrote on them!” Dylan cheers.

“Dy wrote it!” Hughie explains with evident proud on his voice and she smiles down at him.

On the pancakes, on wobbly Nutella 5-years-old boy’s handwriting, can be read “Best mummy ever” and a heart and her eyes get teary because she hasn’t been feeling that lately. She gives Harry a look as if saying don’t do this to me in front of the kids but he just grins and shrugs as if he hadn’t orchestrate the whole thing.

“I drawed the heart!” Hughie catches her attention and she smiles at him.

“It’s drew, Hugh” Dylan corrects him “you drew the heart.”

“Yes, I did.” He smiles. “Chopsy mixed the flour.”

He had come up with that nickname for his baby sister on his own and his mum had grown to love it, sometimes calling her Chopsy herself.

“You did such a great job, my lovely.” Her voice almost croaks.

And Dylan, being the oldest of them three, even if he was just five years old, tilted his neck up so he can look into his mum’s eyes. She gives him a smile but he can somehow see it, even if he doesn’t fully understands, he kind of knows so his small hand rests on top of hers.

“You really are.” He whispers. “The best mummy ever.”

Her lip trembles and she has to chuckle so she doesn’t freak the little boy out when she wipes her tears away.

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses his cheeks and his little arm wraps around her shoulder.

Baby Anie’s hand gently slaps her brother and he shuts his eyes when their mum starts laughing.

“I love you.”

Blue kisses her boys’ foreheads and they both start eating while she sets Anie on her high chair. Her husband is moving around the kitchen, setting his and his wife’s forks and their cups of coffee, when she presses her hands on his chest and stops him.

“And you too.” She smiles. “I love you so much.”

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julieloveupstead · 3 years

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"I'm Never Leaving You" - Upstead

Description: A story inspired by the events of the last episode of the season and what might happen in season 9 in Hailey and Jay's lives. I really hope you guys enjoy it.

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CHAPTER 1

- Are you sure you want to be there? - Jay asked for a split second, turning his head away from the road and looking at his girlfriend with worry. Hailey rolled her eyes, hearing the question once again.

- Yeah. I'm sure. - She answered in a hoarse and tired voice, and it required all the strength she had left after all the events that had happened today to sound convincing. Jay just nodded even though he was still worried, but he knew Hailey needed something to keep her thoughts diverted to something else, so he let it go.

Hailey knew that Jay was worried, that he wanted to help her, but she couldn't do anything about it, something inside her had changed after what had happened in that warehouse. She felt like she had reached a wall, like she was finally at her breaking point, and she didn't see how to turn around, how to get out of it and how to get back on track again. She did not know. Furthermore, she turned her gaze away from the window and looked at Jay, who was now driving, and watched him for a moment and though slowly returned her thoughts to the conversation that had taken place less than an hour ago in her-and for the past few weeks-their flat.

Entering the flat, she didn't know how she had managed to get there all right and without causing any accidents. She felt as if everything from breathing to walking was being done by someone else, and she was just watching, and it was only when she saw Jay at home and felt his tender touch on her shoulder that her emotional bubble burst and everything hit her. She could barely bring herself not to start crying in front of Jay. Standing there in the middle of the room, looking into her green eyes full of love and worry, she wanted to tell him everything, but it occurred to her how much she had let him down. And she was convinced that as soon as Jay found out what Hailey had done he would leave her and want nothing to do with her, and she would be left to live with the knowledge that she had once again hurt someone she cared about so much, loved so much. In truth, what she felt for him was unmatched by anything else, not even Garrett and her shared such a deep feeling as she and Jay did. What they have is something completely different, something special, something that could be something lasting. For the first time in her more than twenty years of life, she felt happy, loved and safe, and that's why she was in so much pain about what was happening now. And she was afraid of what would happen to her if Jay, after finding out the truth, slammed the door, and she was forced to be alone with her thoughts and guilt and self-loathing, and it was that fear so terribly paralyzing that she didn't want to tell him, wanted to lie to him, but a little voice in her head kept repeating to her the words Jay had spoken over the years of their partnership and being together:

"We're good. We're always going to be good."

"Hailey, I'd follow you anywhere"

"I'm not going anywhere really, I'm not"

"I love you"

And maybe that determined that she would take the risk and tell him everything after all, but that stupid panicky voice in her head repeating that he was going to leave her was circulating and even getting louder and maybe that caused her to say those words:

"Maybe we should get married"

The first time she said the phrase, she was surprised, and she saw the same thing in Jay's eyes. And so maybe it was too soon, maybe at the wrong time, but somehow she felt that this was what she really wanted to do. She wanted to spend her whole life with him and most of all she wanted to be the first to do something under the influence of impulse, under the influence of selfishness, and she wanted to stop at all costs something that was good in her life.

She didn't have to wait for Jay's answer because she knew he wanted the same thing, but he's too honest, too good to make decisions seeing her in this state, wrecked, barely holding on mentally, in a loop of conflicting emotions. And all he's done is saying that he's here and nothing and no one will bail him out, and he'll be by her side for better or worse without question.

Hailey in his embrace so strong and powerful, where she felt so safe let go of all her barriers and told her everything. Jay never once interrupted her but listened attentively, holding her close, so she knew he was beside her and not going anywhere. When she finished with fearful and weeping eyes she looked at the boy and waited fearfully for his reaction. She had expected everything from silence to an outburst of rage, disappointment and a slamming of the door after he left leaving her, but nothing like that happened. Jay invariably told her that he was there for her, that it wasn't her fault, that it was Voight's fault for taking advantage of her good and pure heart and still said he loved her and that they would work something out together.

She couldn't believe that Jay even after she told him that she had killed a man, that she had let herself be manipulated by their Sergeant, he was still there for her. Just when she thought she couldn't love him anymore she caught herself that she was wrong after all.

Hailey put her head against the glass and closed her eyes, wishing that this day was over and that everything that had happened today was just a bad dream.

- Angel - she heard Jay's warm whisper by her ear. Apparently she was more tired than she thought since she fell asleep. She looked with sleepy eyes at the man crouching on her side of the door, nodded and straightened up, looking around. - We are already outside the hospital - she nodded, recognizing the building. Jay held out his hand, which she accepted, and helped her out of the truck. Jay intertwined their fingers and squeezed hard.

Hailey tried to focus on the feel of Jay's hand in hers and how her body was reacting to it. How her thoughts automatically calmed, how a simple touch could cause something like safety. Hailey had learned from a young age that touch was something associated with pain, not love, and especially not with the notion of safety she felt with her boyfriend. And after what had happened today with Kim and what had happened in that damn warehouse, that was exactly how she felt. Like a confused little girl who was just waiting for the next blow and all she needed right now was to hide and close her eyes and pray that the nightmare would end.

But the closer they got to the building, the more it came to her that she would have to look into the eyes of her friends who would want explanations that she didn't want and couldn't say, and more than anything it terrified her to see the Sergeant. After what he forced her to do today, she didn't feel like looking at him, just thinking about him made her stomach clench, and she felt like throwing up. Suddenly, she let go of Jay's hand and ran to the side to throw up.

- What's wrong? - A worried Jay ran after her. He put his hand on her back drawing reassuring patterns and grabbed her hair to keep it out of her way. He was concerned about her condition, but felt helpless. Likewise, he wanted so much to relieve her, to take this burden off her, but he didn't know how to do it. - I am with you, Angel. It is all right now. I am here. - He repeated in a calm and tender voice, trying to sound confident so as not to show how much it hurt him to see her suffering so much.

- I am sorry - she whispered after a while, he had to strain to hear. Seeing Hailey like that broke his heart into a million little pieces.

- You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. It's okay. I'm here. - He whispered - Maybe you want to go home? - Jay crouched down beside Hailey and continued to make patterns on her back, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of his beloved suffering.

- No, we need to be with Kim, she needs us. - she said in a weak voice. When Hailey looked at him, he saw a new batch of tears running down her cheeks, and he really couldn't do anything to stop his own from flowing anymore.

- Hailey - he wanted to say something else, but Hailey interrupted him.

- Jay, please - she said, he could see she was trying with all her might to stop crying. Everything in him was screaming, he wanted to take her home, embrace her and never let her go and never let her suffer again.

- Good - he agreed, because what else could he do. - Are you ready? - he asked himself and when she nodded they both got up and headed for the building.

Entering the hospital, the first person they noticed was Will, who was waiting for them in the waiting room.

- 'Hey, how's Kim? - Jay spoke up, approaching his brother.

- 'She's still in surgery. Dr. Crockett is doing the best he can. Time will tell. The important thing is that she's fighting. - He said in a tired voice. Jay and Hailey nodded as they processed the doctor's words. Looking at Will, it hadn't escaped the two detectives' notice that he was standing in front of them in his regular clothes instead of a doctor's gown and from what Jay remembered his brother had the night shift today, and he hadn't said anything about schedule changes. Jay sensed that something must have happened, but this was not the time to ask. - Come on, I'll take you to your colleagues - Will moved off and Jay and Hailey followed him - Will Is V... Is Voight sitting there too? - Jay' couldn't help but notice how Hailey's body was holding its breath waiting for his brother's answer. He could also feel her all hurried up and with panic evident on her face, she looked around looking for the Sergeant. To support her, he squeezed her joined hand tighter and drew reassuring glances with his thumb to try and snap her out of her dark thoughts

- No, I don't think so. At least I haven't seen him, and I've been here for a while. - Will walking next to Jay replied with a shake of his head. - 'Are you okay, Hailey? - He asked, worried by the blonde's behavior. The doctor had to admit that he had never seen her like this before, and seeing how after his negative answer she let out a breath and relaxed a little he looked at his younger brother who only shook his head and by the look he knew he wouldn't know more, so he dropped the subject.

Hailey didn't even know how relieved she would feel after hearing that Voight was gone, but some part of her needed proof that the gray-haired man was gone and when she finally saw that in the hallway outside the room where Kim should have been after the surgery, that apart from Kevin, Trudy, some woman who she guessed and remembered from stories and from photos was Kim's sister, and she saw Adam sitting in the furthest possible corner there was no one else. Her body, though, slowly relaxed enough to be able to let go of her boyfriend's hand and approach them to quietly tag along.

Jay had been watching her vigilantly the whole time, he could see how the news that Voight was gone had reassured her and him too. He didn't yet know what she would do when she saw him, and he knew that sooner or later he would come here anyway. He hoped as late as possible, though.

- Hey, is Hailey okay? - asked his brother quietly, standing next to him.

- No - Jay didn't see the point in lying to Will. Jay knew that his older brother also liked Hailey a lot and that he was worried about her. He had been very happy when Will and Hailey had become friends and teasing the two of them about it hadn't been so terrible, and the sight of Hailey laughing when Will told another story from their childhood had been his favorite sound even before he and Hailey had been a couple. Now that they are together, Will is very supportive of him and makes sure he doesn't do stupid things, for which he is grateful. It's nice to know there's someone else besides him who cares about his Angel, and there's no one he trusts more than Will.

- So why don't you two go home? No one's going to get in to see Kim today anyway, and her condition won't change from the way you're here. - suggested the elder.

- No - nodded the brunet. - 'Hailey wants to be here. She needs this. - He explained in a whisper, looking at the girl sitting next to Kevin. She had always seemed small to him and even though he knew that Hailey was able to take care of herself, he felt a special care for her, but now it all had a different meaning. He sat down next to her on the plastic chair and pulled her tightly to him. Hailey snuggled into him, and he kissed the top of her head.

Everyone sat in silence waiting for any news on Kim, Hailey finally managed to fall asleep and Jay couldn't sleep. He kept having the recent events and the sight of Hailey suffering in his mind. He tried to think of ways to help her, but nothing sensible came up, which irritated him even more. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can't help his own girlfriend. How could he not notice how Voight was manipulating Hailey, after all, this was practically happening right in front of his eyes. That trip Hailey took to New York seemed suspicious to him, and he already felt an uncomfortable sense of déjà vue, and he did nothing about it. And that incident a few days ago where Hailey wanting to prove to Voight that our relationship had no bearing on the quality of her operations had entered that house without a warrant and the mere fact that he'd started meddling in their lives was enough to finally set off a clear red light for him. He should have talked to him then, but Hailey didn't want any more problems, so he let it go. And today as he separated them he felt a strange pressure in his chest, as if he felt something bad might have happened, but again he said nothing, did nothing. Now it came to him that what had happened, what his girlfriend, the most wonderful person, the woman of his life had gone through was his fault. He laid his head so that his cheek touched the top of Hailey's head and closed his eyes to stop the tears gathering in his eyes. How could he let this happen.

After some time, a characteristic hoarse voice reached Jay's ears, at which he put his arms around the girl, who was now sitting, or rather sleeping, on his lap. He didn't know what he should do now, but he knew that as soon as he saw Voight he would explode, and besides, he knew that Hailey wasn't ready to face the Sergeant, and besides, he himself wouldn't let that man hurt his Angel again.

- Will - he whispered to his brother sitting across from him. - I think we will go home after all, but I would like to leave without prying eyes. - If Will was surprised by Jay's question, he didn't show it, but just nodded and stood up.

Jay took Hailey in his arms bridal style and followed his brother.

- 'Jay, are you okay? - asked the elder once they were outside Jay's car.

Jay gently placed Hailey in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. He gently closed the door and looked at his brother.

- 'No,' he sighed and returned his gaze to the sleeping Hailey. The sight of the now peaceful girl soothed his shattered nerves, but as soon as he remembered her terrified look, her weeping face, her petite body trembling with terror. And the most shattering situation for him was the terrified look when Hailey was afraid that if he found out what she had done he would leave her and stop loving her, so she wanted to hold him by proposing to him. God, when he first heard her ask if he was going to get married his heart stopped, and he couldn't believe once again that such a wonderful, amazing person chose him out of all men, for every cop's dream job to spend his life with. Ever since he'd been with Hailey, he'd dreamed of nothing but proposing to her and then vowing his eternal love to her. He even already had a place picked out where he wanted to propose to her and get married. That's why he wanted so badly to say yes, but he knew from her face that it wasn't appropriate, that the proposal should be a special memory. And when he heard from Hailey what had happened, he knew he had done the right thing, even though it broke his heart. He closed his eyes as he felt tears come to his eyes again.

- 'What happened, Jay? - he asked as he walked over to his brother Will and put his hand on his brother's back in a caring gesture. - Something bad. - Jay looked at his brother, no longer fighting back tears. - Voight hurt Hailey, and I let it happen. Will, I couldn't see the most obvious signals, I trusted a man, and he hurt my Angel. I let Hailey... - Jay plugged his mouth, silencing the moan of despair that escaped from his throat. - Jay, what the hell are you talking about? - It had been a long time since Will had seen his younger brother in such disarray, which worried him, and knowing that Hailey wasn't in any better shape even more terrified him. What the hell happened out there? He asked himself this question while looking at his crying brother. - 'Never mind, I shouldn't say anything, it's just this thing, you know? - explained Jay quickly, realizing what he had just done. He looked at the redhead and wiped the tears from his cheeks. - Will, you don't have to worry about us. We'll be fine - he said, seeing the worried look in his brother's eyes.

- 'Okay, but if you want to talk then call me, you can both call me whenever you want. - Will offered, not convinced by his young brother's explanation. Jay nodded his thanks for the offer, then walked around the car and got in. A few seconds later, Hailey and Jay drove off.

#upstead #upstead fic #upstead fanfiction #jay halstead #hailey upton

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silvia7272 · 4 years

Text

ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

No one?

Too easy?

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

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anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

It’s not going to be alright

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 2 300 Genre: Angst, fluff, comfort TW: Anxiety attack, sort of Summary: (Y/n) brings Gerard to meet their parents. It doesn’t go as well as expected. Requested by @thegnotecannothurtusanymore a/n: I hope this is what you wanted and that you like it

"Do I look fine?" Gerard still sounds insecure as he stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket lightly while also checking his hair and makeup, turning his head from side to side slowly a few times. He repeatedly runs his fingers through his hair, a sharp sigh escaping his nose.

"Of course, you always do," I say with a smile, standing behind him and observing him through the mirror. "C'mon, you don't need to be so nervous. I don't even care if they don't like or approve you, this is just because they're curious about you." Wrapping my hands around his wrists, I pull his hands away from himself in an attempt of helping Gerard with calming down. He's already perfect.

"But... Still, what if they try to separate us?" To say Gerard is worried is a euphemism.

I push Gerard to sit down on his bed and place my hands on his shoulders. "Listen, they're just my parents, not me. It doesn't matter whether they like you or not. They can't control me the whole time. We can, dunno, run away if we need to, don't worry about it!" I smile in an attempt of cheering him up and it seems to work.

Gerard noticeably relaxes under my touch. He wraps his arms around me and brings me closer, his head against my abdomen.

"It's going to be alright, Gee," I tell him softly as playing with his hair. He nods hesitantly.

We've been together for around a year now and, from hearing so much about me having a boyfriend and never seeing him, my parents decided that I should bring him home for dinner. Gerard almost freaked out because of it at first, something I completely don't judge him for. He was desperate about finding formal clothes for the dinner, but I told him to dress... like himself, just a kinda formal due to the occasion, but not completely. There would be no point for him to dress up in something he is uncomfortable with and to pretend to be someone he isn't just for my parents. If they're going to accept him, they must accept him the way he is and the way I love him.

Not to mention that we wouldn't be able to sustain a lie for too long. It's relatively easy hearing rumors about Gerard – after all, there aren't many other punk kids in the city. Also, if they hypothetically liked him like that and called him over for dinner more often, it would be an even harder thing to maintain. He can't hide all the scars or wounds all the time neither lie about some of them.

"What time is it? Maybe we should get going," Gerard says as he reaches for his phone and checks on it without letting me move away. "Yeah, we should," he answers himself and looks up at me, smiling a bit.

Soon, we are in my car and heading over to my place. I had come over to help him with getting ready and just to make sure he wouldn't mess up with anything because of getting too anxious.

"It's going to be alright," I repeat myself before we leave the car. Gerard does his best to smile in response while nodding. We leave the car and move to the front door, where I reassure him once again by giving his hand a light squeeze then I walk in. "Hey, we've arrived," I call to my parents as Gerard closes the door behind us.

"We're over here in the dining room, dear," my mother's voice comes from the said place.

The table is nicely set, the trays and pans filled with food we usually just eat on Sundays or certain occasions, what makes me smile at the same time I see it. Gerard seems just as pleased, an also appreciative air over his features as he looks at everything, cheeks growing red when his eyes meet mine.

When I look at my parents, however, their reaction isn't in any way pleasing. They look at Gerard like if they were expecting gold, but were just given a cheap copy instead or something completely different.

"Um," Gerard breaks the tense silence, seeming to not really have noticed my parents' reaction. "I'm Gerard, Gerard Way. It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, looking at the two with nervous eyes. Well, now he's noticed it.

"Oh, so you're Gerard." The word sounds bitter coming from my father. He looks away, lips pursed and he doesn't make any effort in hiding his light displeasure. My mother takes the same path, a clearly forced smile decorating her lips as she slowly nods, drowning the room in awkwardness. I hate her for it. I mean, they don't even know Gerard yet.

A sigh escapes my lips as I just pull on Gerard's hand for him to sit down already as I do so myself, concluding my parents won't tell us to do it. Annoying. My parents do the same.

"Okay, so... Gerard," my mother speaks up first while everyone is serving themselves. He hums questioningly, smiling a bit. She continues. "Do you work? Do you do anything besides studying?"

"I actually don't need to work," Gerard replies, pushing his chair closer to the table after taking all the food he wanted. "I draw a lot in my free time and I've been trying to publish a comic."

Approval? No. The same displeasure shows itself on their faces, poorly hidden by fake smiles.

"Oh, that's... interesting," my mother breathes a chuckle, looking down at her food. Her chuckle sounds more of a 'look at how stupid he is' thing. Okay, okay, maybe I'm imagining things, right...? Let me avert my attention away from it.

"Gerard is excellent at drawing." I smile proudly and share a look with Gerard, who seems more relieved with my comment.

My mother makes an unconvinced face, but she doesn't have the opportunity to continue talking because my father speaks up next. "And you're off school soon, right? Have you already applied for any college?" He seems a bit more friendly than my mother, something I believe to be a brief impression due to how he's barely talked until now.

"Yeah, I've been accepted in the school of visual arts in NY," Gerard breathes with a proud air, already concluding how tiring it's all gonna be. In a social battery sense. The two will probably question Gerard until he walks out that door. It's going to be exhausting.

"Arts?" More reproval. My father raises his eyebrows amused after Gerard nods and my mother holds back a sigh, moving to sip on her glass of soda like if she can't handle it all. "That's peculiar, certainly. Something really difficult to get a future in, isn't it?" He says in clear mocking and looks at my mother. Look at this fool; I can practically hear them thinking. I don't know if it makes me angry or sad or both. Honestly, I already predicted things weren't going to turn out well, but this is just terrible.

"Like if Gerard would ever fail in anything while he's got so many talents like that," I roll my eyes. My comment goes ignored apart from how Gerard blushes and grins.

"Oh, but I've got a band in case anything goes wrong!" Gerard shrugs in a sudden wave of confidence.

"His band is awesome," I add. Ignored. Hah.

"A band!" A laughter comes from my father and my mother follows suit. They spend a moment laughing, but reality seems to hit them again before the fact Gerard and I remained in silent, both of us observing them in disbelief.

My mother shakes her head in dismissal as covering her mouth for a moment – at least making an effort, what seemed to be too hard to my father. "Erm, that's wonderful! Wonderful," she says.

A sigh escaped my lips at the thought I'll probably pull Gerard out of here myself soon if things continue like that.

Thankfully, some minutes into the dinner, we've got some peace, but all the evil comments and mocking continue right after. Sometimes my parents do apologize. Not genuinely, tho. For real, I feel like it would've been easier if they just got angry and kicked us out as soon as seeing Gerard or something instead of opting for psychological torture. I'm feeling attacked myself.

The dinner being over almost feels like a miracle to me – I quickly stand up from my chair and pull Gerard along with me.

"So, I'll be heading to Gerard's tonight. I'm spending the night at his place, like I promised," I say as giving his hand a light squeeze, running my thumb over his knuckles softly.

He seems really uncomfortable.

"Oh, you are?" My mother sighs, shaking her head to herself. "Okay then, just remember to come home. Love you, dear, see you," she says to me before she takes a good look at Gerard, then walks away to the kitchen with the dirty dishes in hands, not even bothering to tell him a goodbye or anything.

"Goodbye..." I mutter, starting to walk.

"G-Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. (l/n)! Thanks for the food and for receiving me," Gerard calls, the nervousness starting to show when we're about to leave the house. If I were him, I wouldn't even have said anything.

Feeling the cold night air embracing me is extremely relieving. Being away from the two is relieving. I'm still revolted about everything that has happened; it wasn't kind at all. I look at Gerard, worried. "Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah, sugar, don't worry," he reassures me. His words sound empty. I don't question.

Gerard tries to keep the tough posture until when we arrive to his place and we're already in comfortable clothes, lazing around on his bed. He's clearly not fine – you can notice it through how he acts, his glassy eyes, difficulty on keeping his focus... We will talk about it whenever he is ready.

At some point, my phone starts ringing. My mother. I sigh.

"I'll be right back, Gee, my mom's calling." I press a kiss to his cheek then leave the room and the house, heading to the back porch. It will be uncomfortable having anyone else listening to this while Mikey and Donna are also so nice to me.

"(Y/n)," the angry tone comes from the other end of the line as soon as I answer the call. "That boy is terrible. I'm sure you've noticed how we didn't enjoy him any bit. He's stupid, he's just got no future. You deserve something better, my love," her voice softens. "We just let you go over to his place because it would be impolite to not to after everything."

Ah, there it is. The hypocrisy.

"Well, and I'm sure you've noticed that I don't care about what you two think. You liked Gerard and everything I told you about him until you saw him. That's stupid. You guys didn't even allow yourselves to get to know him properly and already got like that." No, I've got no patience to deal with this. I groan to myself as leaning against the railing and observing what I can see of the back garden.

"We know that kind of people, okay? Trust us, you're not gonna-"

I hang up. And set my phone in the do not disturb mode. I'm not listening to bullshit about Gerard while he's so sweet and loving and...

Putting my phone away, I rub my face and try to get rid of the stress before walking back in.

Gerard is startled by me walking into the bedroom suddenly, eyes widening once they land on me while I close the door. It looks like he's been crying; eyes puffy and red, makeup smudged. "(Y/n)," he cries, reaching his arms towards me as I approach, "don't leave me, oh God, I love you so much. Without you I can't-" He interrupts himself with a sob, starting to cry again.

"I'm not going to leave you!" I sit beside him, pulling Gerard for a hug. I wipe his tears away before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I would never, I've told you! Their opinion about you isn't relevant to me! They don't know you like I do! I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."

"Sorry," he sobs against my neck, arms wrapped tightly around me like if I would disappear if he let go. "I wish I was different, damn, I'm sorry."

It's always terrible when Gerard's anxiety attacks, but things seem to be going way worse now and I curse my parents for it. They had literally no reasons to have acted the way they did. Even if they dislike Gerard, everyone must be respected. Seeing Gerard like this hurts.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I rub soft circles into his back as continuing to hold him close, doing it for a few moments in an attempt of getting him to calm down. "Gee, Gerard, listen to me," I say once he's calmed down a bit and take a gentle hold of his face, making him look at me. "All that matters is us and nothing more. I don't care if my parents don't approve of our relationship or if the world does, I just care about us, if we are fine. And, of course, if you are fine. I hated that you needed to go through all of this, I'm so sorry." I press a kiss to his cheek, starting to run my fingers through his hair.

"Don't apologize, it wasn't your fault," Gerard says softly. He is silent for a moment before the tears start again and he buries his face in the crook of my neck again, clutching onto me tightly.

"Let it all out, Gee, it'll help you." I comfort him, pressing kisses to his neck and going back to rubbing his back. "I love you, okay? And that's all that matters."

#fanfiction #fanfic #mcr #my chemical romance #mcr imagine #gerard way #gerard way x reader #x reader #imagine #emo #bands #emocore #angst #fluff #oneshot #mcr x reader #writing #my post

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hockeyboysiguess · 3 years

Text

coney island | e. pettersson

a/n: like many people, i’ve been listening to evermore pretty much exclusively on repeat since it came out. this is the first fully formed fic idea i’ve had from it. it’s very, very angsty, just as a heads up, but i’m proud of it and i hope you appreciate it.

word count: 4,954

wine pairing recommendation: a cold glass of very dry chardonnay.

warnings: swearing, implied smut if you squint, alcohol, a crap ton of angst.

Love was hard. People had told you that, your parents, grandparents, his parents, random jaded old women you swore you would never be like when they saw you holding his hand in the streets of Vancouver. Everyone told you it was harder than it seemed at first glance, the complexities infinitely expanding the deeper into it you fell, never ending, never becoming less complicated, never relenting. All of it fell on deaf ears and you pushed their words out of his head later every single night, utterances of how you and Elias were different as they fell from wine stained lips, breathed out with alcohol tainted breaths and laughter. He breathed them back to you in reply, drunk on you and him and everything you two knew you could be. You weren’t deep into the maze then, still at the outside, where decisions were as simple as right and left.

Turned out that the skeptics were speaking from experience not jealousy like you prayed to each other each night. Now, the maze ran so deep, spidering through every crevice of your life that you were long lost in it, Elias lost in a part that might as well have been infinitely far away from you because you couldn’t find him anymore in it. You stopped wandering deeper ages ago. Instead you found a safe hiding spot in the maze and built a fire to keep yourself warm without him, but you stayed in the maze of your conjoined lives, and so did Elias. Neither of you knew what outside of the maze looked like anymore and the unknown and it’s endless possibilities for terrible things was more terrifying than abhorrent mediocrity, so you both stayed, miles apart in a shared life, with no hope of finding your way back to each other.

Neither of you wanted to push deeper into the maze. You had found a holding pattern, orbiting each other and disappointing each other in even strokes that it was all the worst kind of wash you could have ever imagined. Sometimes, bombs went off in the maze that wouldn’t have been bombs if you had been willingly travelling through it together. The bomb this time was the gift-wrapped suburban dream that showed up in the form of Bo shoving a realtor’s card into Elias’s hand, along with the promise that she could find the home for you and him to build a family together in, since it was time for that. The fact that it was time for that never settled properly, an ill-fitting, both too tight and too loose bandage trying desperately to pull two people who were miles apart together inside of 3,000 square feet as if the physical boundary of shared space would fix the chasm between you. The dream of a life with him in a house like the ones you were looking at was all in shades of gray for you. It was the future, but it felt like the past, like looking at an old movie you had never seen before. Beautiful, but so clearly out of place and out of time. Looking at the houses, each one nicer than the last, the foot of space between you felt as wide as the city. You were looking at houses, places to build a home, that you couldn’t have been able to look at without him, and you were looking without restriction, but you knew it was out of responsibility, an obligation, for the both of you.

You and Elias ran out of time together too long ago, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge it. There was comfortability in each other, even if it was because you both had so much space in your relationship that even this house, the perfect house by every metric other than the fact that it would never be filled with love, couldn’t bring you together long enough to pretend it wasn’t there. You would always be standing at the furthest points of this house from each other, hoping you never had to acknowledge it. The dream was as cold as the pristine countertops and you hated them. You hated the room the realtor said could be a nursery more. It made you sick. Elias grimaced. You two hadn’t related to each other in a long time, but in that moment, you couldn’t have been on the same wavelength more.

You signed the papers the day and the keys felt coldest of all in your hand, but yet, when you and Elias stood in your new living room, he asked the question he was supposed to ask anyway.

“Are you excited?”

The question was a lie as soon as it was formed. He didn’t want to ask if you were excited. He knew you weren’t because he wasn’t. His life was lived in increasingly medium shades of gray, the blue having been drained from the sky over the maze a long time ago. But he was here, and he was asking the question, so you gave the answer the question deserved.

“So excited.” You spoke with such practiced niceties that the only person who knew they were fake was, unfortunately, the person receiving them. “The house is perfect.”

The house was perfect. That wasn’t a lie. It was exactly what you wanted, what Elias wanted, where you always thought you would live together back when the skies were still blue and there was grass under your feet. The skies had been gray for a while and the grass went dormant before that, as it did when winter threatened. With skies this gray, why were you still here? Why did you sign your name for the house? You were comfortable, in every single way of your life other than how your heart sat in your chest, you were comfortable and your goddamn heart, that absolutely useless thing in your chest, still looked at him and saw what it used to be like and blindly thought, if you went a little deeper into the maze, you might just run into him along the way and it would be like old times, like when you prayed your love into each other every single night with hushed words and heavy touches and kisses meant to take your breath away.

You reached out for him and he hesitated for a moment, before settling into your embrace. Your arms around his neck, his hands on your back and his warm breath dancing across your neck, he still felt like he was yours, not like he was so distant he was unreachable.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday,” you mumbled to him.

His chest tensed and he sucked in a quick, pained breath. You apologized for it in the moment as it happened but hadn’t brought it up since. You blamed flights and work and other related responsibilities when it was simply just a broken promise. You could have made it work. You could have figured out how to get home and spend the night with him. It would have meant an early morning after, but no early than the ones he did all the time. You were trying to figure it out, scrolling through airlines, meticulously checking your schedule, finding the flights with awkward connections that would get you to him for the night. Your headache from it all was worsening, so you gave yourself a five minute break from it, scrolling through social media. It was the smallest thing, his teammates getting him dessert at dinner, but the way he laughed, the way he smiled, the way he looked actually happy because of the people around him; he hadn’t looked like that because of you in longer than you even realized. If you were there, he wouldn’t be that happy.

He never told you, but he realized something was nearly hopelessly broken when he’d breathed a sigh of relief when you told him you wouldn’t be able to make it home, that you were going to miss his birthday.

You watched through the carefully curated lens of his drunk friends’ posts from hundreds of miles away and felt like you were as close as you had been to him in a while, watching him be happy from your spot in the maze. You couldn’t even see him really. Only his laughter carried across the expanse between you as if coming from down a hallway from the apartment at the end of the hall you knew was impeccable and the people inside of it were having an amazing party. You just weren’t invited because you lived at the apartment farthest from him instead of with him like you were supposed to.

You ate your single slice of mediocre cake you ordered from room service in his honor at his request.

“Really?”

His voice pulled you back into the present. You nodded into him and his hands pressed you into him in response. The feeling of his hands on you was like old times, back when your relationship felt your piece of heaven on earth that you could share with him. You tilted your head up to look at him and your heart pulled you up onto your toes to kiss him. One of his hands reached up to cup your face and he deepened the kiss, letting you both walk back down the road to a long lost and long missed paradise in the past. His hands were the same as before, his mouth on your skin, pulling moans and tugging your heart closer to his and making you both forget that you couldn’t walk back down that road, a road you both wished you could but couldn’t actually find, the map to it lost in disappointments and missed moments, lost in the wind that carried away the love that was missing. You both pretended it was still there on the bare floor of the house you were supposed to fill together, let the comfortability of the way you felt in each other’s arms artificially bring you closer together for a few moments you wished would stretch over your entire lives again.

As you slid your sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, back over your shoulders and handed him the one he had actually worn, the space was more evident than before. You borrowed the good moments from the dwindling allotment you had been given by the universe at the start of your relationship that had seemed infinite then, maps through new parts of the maze that were limited. You were supposed to have figured out how to explore and draw them together, map forever hand in hand, but you had never been able to draw even one. Each time you borrowed a good moment from the rations, used it up really since it couldn’t be returned, they transformed into memories instead, you both become painfully aware of how few were left now and you felt further apart than before.

“Elias.” You were reaching out across the maze and hoping he still wanted to reach back out. “I miss you.”

You knew he would understand, even though your words didn’t make much sense in reality.

“I miss you too.”

His voice betrayed him, cracking at the end of his sentence. You felt him for the first time in what had to be eons at this point, really felt his hand in your reaching out through the noise. Then you felt his hand reach out and pull you into him again, lips resting on your forehead for a few lingering moments.

“I-” You cleared your throat to try again. “I want us to be us again, Elias.”

“Me too, so much,” he agreed, voice giving way to emotion and cracking again, exposing the honesty of his statement. “I want to fix us.”

“Me too, Elias. Me too.”

And so, you tried. You both desperately tried. You tried to bring him into the center of your world again, tried to find him in the maze and he tried to find you. But as you unpacked boxes with your backs to each other, the distance was the same and all you were doing was shouting across it, wishing it didn’t exist. To shout across it, it had to be acknowledged, but that was part of it, wasn’t it? You had to acknowledge a problem to fix it, and you thought, if you both acknowledged it enough, eventually the uncharted territory between the two of you in your relationship would be to be journeyed and you would find each other again. You kept thinking it and he kept thinking it, because having the right spirit brought people from their deathbeds and maybe it could for your relationship too. You kept looking, shouting across the maze, but he was both right next to you and infinitely far away at the same time.

Elias had a banner sort of year, the kind of year he had been working his entire life to have. Amid the personal mistakes and disappointments, professional success was uncomplicated. You were on his arm, pretending absolutely nothing was wrong and that you were every bit as in love with him as you were the first time you came to this award show years ago. Fake it until you make it. It would get you through tonight and perhaps it just might get you through the maze to him again.

Except instead of crossing the maze to him, you watched it crumble around you that night as you looked up from your seat at the stage, pride swelling in your chest and threatening your breath, bringing tears to your eyes. You were still impossibly proud of him and his accomplishments. Words tumbled from his mouth and you could have sworn you were listening, but now, you couldn’t remember any he said from that podium. You remembered the ones he didn’t say, the options he had in front of him that would have been acceptable. My girlfriend was a fine inclusion. Your name worked. Instead, there was emptiness in his speech, an emptiness that scripted a deep, unending ache in your chest instead of the words it should have been filled with. He said he was grateful for his family, his parents, his brother, then a pause, a pause too long to have been an accident, a pause that gave him enough time to decide to shatter you with a purposefulness you could never forget. There was no “and” after his brother, but the sentence ended anyway, the weight of it finally tipping the scale you had been agonizing over daily for far too long to honestly even think you were happy with him anymore. The scale couldn’t tell a lie. It was simply an itemized summation of everything beautiful and unique and unrelinquishable about him versus the parts of him that you desperately wished were different, the disappointing things.

You tried to deny it for a moment, when he rejoined you and kissed your temple and held your hand, when he felt like he always felt, like he was the place you wanted to be forever.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I totally forgot to say your name and I feel stupid.”

The lie sealed it, the reading on the scale forever burned into your mind. It was fixed now because you were done counting, done weighing it all. You weren’t his centerfold and you never would be, something that was a fact of the worst kind now. Facts were simply facts, not meant to hurt or help, simply meant to present truths objectively. But there was nothing objective in the way people received facts. You were both too polite to leave each other without a real reason to do it, but he hadn’t been in the bed you shared in so long and he wasn’t coming back. The empty pause and the emptiness in your bed felt all too related in that moment.

It was the loudest, most honest emptiness you had ever experienced.

The emptiness carried heavy on your shoulders through each forced photograph, each person whose hand you shook when they congratulated him, each moment you held his hand when he knew that you knew it was a lie. Elias Pettersson didn’t do anything on accident; he didn’t function on whims and wishes. It was calculated, your omittance from the list of people to thank, and he knew he was severing any threads that still tied you together. You looked at him that night, smiling as brightly as you’d seen him do for years, and you couldn’t help by wonder when the days turned to never ending nights, when the sun set on your relationship without the ability to rise again, and when he had disappeared why still being right next to you the entire time.

You hit the front steps of the house you shared that had never become a home and said the words you both had been avoiding for far too long now.

“I’ll start moving out tomorrow.”

Elias just nodded as he loosened his tie because he could say he didn’t understand a lot of things, that he had the same questions you had and many more, but he couldn’t say he didn’t see this as inevitable and neither could you.

“I’m sorry,” he told you as he headed into the guest room to sleep there instead of physically next to you.

His words were genuine, which was somehow the worst fucking part of it all was that he was still a good person, a fucking incredible person, but he wasn’t yours. When you find a great person, and you hold onto them, and you love them back, it’s supposed to work. Instead, it somehow felt doomed from the start and you couldn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered.

He heard you because he was listening for you. He never stopped listening, never stopped trying, but he decided he needed to destroy the maze, correctly so, because neither of you were able to find your way closer, not even a single inch closer from when you said you would both try to fix it. You were both too lost. You were never going to end it without a specific, final straw, so he gave you your reason, even if it broke his soul in two to do. You would have chosen to be miserable with him for the rest of your life and he would have been miserable too. The right thing to do sometimes hurts more than the wrong thing, and Elias Pettersson knew that.

It didn’t mean he cried any less that night.

------

Three months had passed since that night, that night you both had been trying to avoid for more of your relationship than the amount of time you hadn’t known it was coming. You waited on the park bench you shared after your first date, the ever familiar bench by the tree line in the park and the golden clock. The trees seemed to be worse for wear this year and the golden paint on the clock was chipping, two things you found all the more fitting as you waited for Elias. He had a box of things you had forgotten, things from Sweden, things from around the house in Vancouver, bits of you that belonged with you and not him anymore. You saw him as he walked up and your stupid heart, that goddamn still fucking useless thing in your chest, lurched toward him in blind nostalgia without a care for how it would actually make you feel.

“Hi.”

Elias awkwardly set the box onto the bench next to you, hands fidgeting at his side anxiously. You knew he wanted to say something. You didn’t want to know that he was thinking by the movements of his hands, but you still knew, the information instinctually recalled by your brain and you wondered if it would always be there.

“Can I sit? Can we talk?”

The part of you that was working your way through the rubble of the maze wanted to say no, but the part of you that still tried to rebuild pieces of it on your winding journey through the rubble of your relationship as you tried to untangle your life from him wanted you to say yes and today, it was louder.

“What do you want to talk about, Elias?”

He didn’t know what to say. You could see it in the surprise on his face; he hadn’t planned for you to say yes. He had expected a no and didn’t think past that point. He sat down on the edge of the bench with the box in between you acting as a porous barricade, if you could even call it a barricade at all. He was just as perfect as the day you left, soft hair, kind eyes, smile that could stop a car accident before it even happened. It couldn’t stop the trainwreck that was you and him though, no matter how much you wish it could have.

“How are you good?”

“I’m fucking grand,” slid out of your mouth deftly, all too practiced and lazy to be true. “How are you, Elias?”

He just nodded in response, before a soft, “Same,” left his lips.

Elias ran a hand frustratingly through his hair, fingers tugging at the thin blond strands. He let out a tense, shortened breath, eyes closing as if it would help him to will his breath level. His eyes opened slowly, pointed toward the gravel path under his feet.

“I can’t figure out what happened.” His words were broken with months of anxiously pouring over them spilling out with them now. “I keep trying to figure out where we went wrong, what I did, what you did, when it broke in a way we couldn’t fix. I can’t figure it out. There’s so many broken parts that I can’t find the first one.”

You nodded softly in understanding because the same thoughts kept you up at night, woke you in the morning, and kept you in terrible company throughout every single day since you left. You had been looking for the same thing as him, the original fracture point when it all really started to crumble, and you couldn’t find it. You couldn’t find where you had diverged in the maze and began to chart paths that would never lead you back to each other, nor could you understand why it had all happened.

“We used to be so good,” you mumbled in response. It wasn’t directly related to his statement, but at the same time, it was the next logical thought and you knew he would make the leap to yours with you. “Do you miss us?”

Your voice shook, the shaking coming from somewhere deep inside, a part of you that hadn’t settled completely with the idea he was never going to be yours again.

“Do you miss us from the beginning?” you clarified more firmly this time because you didn’t miss being two people who lived together but didn’t.

“Every second of every goddamn day.”

Missing each other was easy, as easy as breathing, but you couldn’t miss him without remembering the gray skies that came with him that smothered out the daylight. You used to parade around the city, bright lights, nights of spinning around each other faster and faster with absolute elation. You knew it had left, that merriment of each other, but you didn’t know why or how.

“I don’t know what happened,” you admitted to him. “I’ve been trying to figure it out too because god, Elias, we were perfect. We were everything we wanted to be, but then, and I think it happened way sooner than either of us wanted to admit, we just weren’t. Out of nowhere, it didn’t feel the same and I couldn’t make it feel the same, but I wished I could’ve. Loving you was my favorite thing to do and I’m so fucking sad I can’t do it anymore and I don’t know why I can’t do the thing that used to be my favorite thing.”

Elias shuffled his feet on the path, gravel crunching under his shoes. He didn’t have to say it. You knew it used to be his favorite thing to do too. He was sitting on the bench, sharing it with you even though doing so hurt, because he was trying to figure it out too.

“Maybe it was because I couldn’t win you that stupid arcade ring on our second date,” Elias offered up as a joke. It was terrible, and you weren’t in the mood for a joke, but it still made you laugh. “That was the first thing I couldn’t do for you.”

The joke soured and died with his second sentence. You both knew it wasn’t true, but it was as true as any other theories you had, because it wasn’t a single event. There was no singular event you could pinpoint where everything had gone wrong. Maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe you spent so much time looking at the walls of the maze immediately surrounding you that you forgot to look down. If you had looked down at the ground beneath your feet in the maze, the foundation of your relationship, maybe you would've seen the edge of the grass followed by a few meager inches of rock, before a cliff face. Maybe you couldn’t find your way back to each other because the maze you were in was built on a flawed foundation because maybe it was never supposed to exist in the first place.

“What if we just were never supposed to be together?”

It was the easiest and hardest answer of all of them, the one you had been avoiding, because saying it forever tainted the time you spent together that was flawless. It forever marred those pristine memories.

“I’ve thought about that a lot, more than anything else actually,” Elias sighed, slumping back onto the bench. “I don’t think that’s it. I kind of wish it was because it meant we were always going to end, but god, I don’t think that’s true. I think we were it. I think we fucking had it right.”

“If we had it right, why aren’t we together? Why don’t I get to love you anymore? We didn’t fuck it up, Elias,” you pushed back.

“I think we did. I think it was just a series of tiny mistakes, but we made them at the same time and never fixed them. I think, so fucking slowly, you stopped being the center of my life and I stopped being yours and then it was done from then on because we couldn’t put each other back because we got just a little too selfish with how we were living and that was it.”

“That was the beginning of the end then,” you said softly, “and the rest of it just played itself out.”

Elias nodded just as softly as you’d spoken, “That’s the best I could come up with, but it could be wrong. All I know is we don’t work anymore and I’ve never felt cheated out of something incredible before I lost you.”

Elias stood up after a moment. Your eyes were dry, tears expelled too many times to have any to shed now. A theoretical answer didn’t provide any closure because really, it just felt like the universe decided you two, for whatever reason, didn’t get to be happy and that was all there was to it. She didn’t write an explanation, just that it had to end. Unexplained pains in reality weren’t followed by something better. People said that, but it was just shit talk to make themselves feel whole again. Besides, looking at him now, you knew there was nothing better for you than him and he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him. He felt it all too. There was nothing else better.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out. “I’m so sorry for what I did, whatever part of it I did that got us here.”

He waited this time, unlike the night you decided to move out. He waited for you to say it because he wanted to look at your face for just a little bit longer, wanted to live in a world where you were still in his life, in more than his memories a little bit longer. Your scattered things now in that box had been keeping you in his present, but as soon as he left, everything about you would be in his past and he wanted to hang onto you for just a little bit longer, for entirely selfish reasons. You wanted it too though, so you waited for far longer than you should to speak.

“I’m sorry too, Elias. I’m sorry for not making you my centerfold.”

Elias nodded softly in understanding, eyes taking you in on the park bench one last time, before turning on his heels and walking back to his car, just as the sun started to set. You thought there couldn’t have been a more beautiful, horrible, closing moment in the universe than this one and you would hate the universe for the rest of your life for making you participate in it.

You could never hate the universe for making you love Elias Pettersson though. It had been the greatest, most horrible pleasure of your life, watching the sun go down on it all, but the days the sun had shone? The sky had been bluer than you had ever thought possible.

You would never forget how blue it had been for the rest of your life.

#elias pettersson #elias pettersson fanfic #elias pettersson writing #elias pettersson imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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rexeipts · 3 years

Text

Monday Morning Rewatch Thoughts

This episode was disappointing. I think the last episode would have served as a better mid-season finale personally. Thoughts below:

Annie

- The plot of, “I wasn’t Ben,” and Annie being motivated to keep Ben in his current school for that reason is amazing. That is the kind of plot I want, and care about, for Annie. I love that they have included Ben’s transition into the story line in a way that it isn’t the main focus and that Ben has other pieces of characterization and other challenges/points of conflict than just his transition, but that they haven’t shied away from it when it makes sense.

- The financial aid lady is a down.ass.bitch. for telling Annie to just go find some guy she’s slept with the put down on the paperwork. I’m sorry, but that was great of her to be like listen here’s a loophole so you can help your kid and I will not ask questions.

- I did not like the Kevin (name?) storyline at first because it just didn’t make sense? And I did not like his characterization at the auction of being the “trashy homeless guy” who eats way too much food and steals dogs. I felt like he had more to him when he told Annie that he doesn’t want to be a favor to her. I think she has more chemistry with him than any other guy we have seen her with (including Greg, sue me) and I’m actually looking forward to a possible storyline of her and him falling in love via being awkward roommates. I am hoping it has a current of don’t judge a book by it’s cover, and that Kevin is someone who is a good person and has an interesting story that brings Annie to some sort of realization about herself.

Ruby/Stan

- I HATED... yes... HATED Beth in the scene where Stan was going over the game plan. She was so damn condescending. Stan was biting his tongue and being as polite as he could be, but she was fucking rude. Point blank. Rude.

- Because of that, I loved the scene where he called Beth out. And he is fucking right. And you know what? He even threw her a bone that she was ignored in her home for so many years. Which is fucking true, and made the conversation SO much more nuanced than just Stan calling her out. It made it sooo much more complex that he mentions her motivations. He has known this woman like a family member to his own family for decades. It makes sense he would see and understand the nuances of why she is doing what she’s doing. I hope it is foreshadowing for something more to come.

- Sarah and Ruby have the best chemistry of any parent/child relationship in my opinion. I love watching them on screen even for just a few moments.

- Ruby’s, “I did it for me,” at the end was remniscient of Beth telling Dean, “I wanted to,”. Yes, thank you. Ruby is not a yes man. She did this shit for her family, for her kids, for herself. As much as I think Beth might try to be in charge and often is, it was a good reminder that Ruby is still in there and still has a backbone. She has called Beth out with stealing the Tesla, with the sex tape, etc. before and I want that energy back.

- Annie and Ruby having a sweet moment together on the bench was great, I love them together. They’re so fun but also so so sweet.

Beth/Dean

- She’s with fricken Dean again this week.

- Beth’s eyebrows and wig are fucking terrible. Someone CHILL with the eyebrow filler.

- Was Rio just watching Dean and Beth? Like hanging out waiting? He was like RIGHT THERE when Dean got up. Was he behind a tree watching Dean with his arm around Beth just boiling?

- Dean being pitied by the guy he was trying to sell product to was great. He has been knocked down so many pegs. But also, it was a waste of fucking screen time.

- Not so easy to get out from under someone’s thumb, huh Deansie? How’s it feel to be a dumb ass yet again? A year’s supply of skin care? Guessing Beth is gonna have to bail him out which is again a waste of screen time and something no one gives a shit about seeing.

- The fact that Dean thinks he was good at selling cars is just... sad.

- Beth being a “bad bitch” and selling purses to the husbands who went to see strippers is completely undermined by her being a doormat for Dean who is a sexist, condescending pig who cheated, lied about cancer, and has not shown a single ounce of respect for her as a woman outside of her ability to raise children and make cookies.

- I do not want to see a storyline of Beth trying to get money to leave and go to Nevada or wherever. I know the show runners have said Beth will realize she can’t escape Rio if they’re in the same town, so that is what this storyline is going to be. Her trying to escape Rio yet again. This has been drawn out long enough now. This episode was so confusing and weird. Like her and Rio got the trust of the SS just so the agents could leave? Their relationship advancement, her making this choice of him or SS, etc. was for... what? The drama of the last episode was because of... what exactly? What was the entire point of the SS storyline if it literally put us no where? I’m asking sincerely if anyone has thoughts.

- I don’t want to see Beth and Dean anymore. I am fucking exhausted of seeing Beth and Dean. I am over it. I spent almost this entire episode on my phone because I was bored. The Beth being sweet to Dean storyline is so so so far past where it made any logical sense to the plot. There has been no advancement or progress. She’s supposed to be in a love triangle? We have seven episodes left and there has been absolutely zero progress in her and Dean’s situation. I will be looking for some fucking conflict in this next episode with Dean seeing Rio otherwise I have little to no hope for the Brio ship going forward.

Rio/Nick

- Rio is the spider that Dave talked about right? That he couldn’t get and so he never went back in the bed?

- Nick is a pathetic pussy, and so is his bodyguard. Mick is the only ‘muscle’ I want on my screen. Thanks.

- The bullet wounds not being there is unacceptable. Not just because it completely minimizes the fact that this man was shot in the chest three times and left to die, but also just from a plot standpoint. Like this was the entire storyline of season 3. Wtf. I understand Dean’s not being there, because that was treated as a minimal storyline. But Beth shooting Rio was the entire basis of season 3′s conflict. It’s bizarre and completely unacceptable.

- I posted a little while back about stereotypes, guessing that Nick was going to push Rio and Beth together by stereotyping them both and not seeing the deeper connection between them. Tooting my own horn because this is exactly what Nick did. Beth is the soccer mom, Rio the “gangster”.

- Nick and Dean are the same force for Rio and Beth, respectively. They’re both oppressors. They both don’t get it, the draw between the two. Beth and Rio both try to minimize their relationship, admitting only to sex and nothing more, to their oppressors. Beth used to want to get out from Dean’s grasp and Rio currently does with Nick. Both Dean and Nick have put this other person in a box, minimized them to nothing more than a stereotype, taken away their choices, taken away their power and control. How Beth does not realize Dean is her oppressor and not Rio is fucking beyond me.

- Nick doesn't have kids, so who was the kid referring to Rio as his uncle? The female cousin’s child? Let’s see more of her and less of Dean please.

- Rio literally couldn’t cope the second Nick brought up Beth. He walked away like a love-struck teenage idiot not wanting to admit that he made a bad decision over a girl. I’m curious about this. I hope we find out more of why Rio did it. Did he do it just to scare Beth into submission because he knew he couldn’t hurt her? Or was there a layer of thinking Lucy was a threat to Beth? Because Lucy was pissed at Beth. Or a layer of trying to feign still having power in front of his boys but not being able to hurt Beth?

- Rio’s voice is so raspy at the end, he’s so tired and beaten down, literally and figuratively. And I cannot catch the meaning behind “sometimes it’s worth it”, to be yourself? He sounded so... just sad and down when he said it. It sounded so vulnerable.

- It is not, I repeat, not a storyline they should go down of thinking it is cool/fun/sexy/empowering/feminist for this “gangbanger” to be in love with the housewife and for her to not reciprocate and then torment him. It’s not.

Promo/Going Forward:

- I think we have seen confirmation that Rio will lie/keep things from Nick. I think Rio gave Beth the plates, and they will be working together going forward. I hope.

- Rio chilling in the backroom of PP with Beth, so chill, so nonchalant, put me in the ground.

- In the below shot, you can see Rio still sitting there with his hand on his chin as Beth talks to Dean. This scene better be LOADED. Go ahead and mention them banging, Dean. That will be fun. But also I want to see Beth try to talk her way out of it. Go ahead and try to tell Dean you didn’t have a choice Elizabeth. Go ahead and try to minimize what this is when Rio is sitting there listening. That will be golden conflict. I want to see Rio realize the dynamic between Beth and Dean, see him see how submissive and pathetic she is when Dean is around, see how Dean belittles her, and then use that against her to pull her out of her shell. I want to see Beth try to minimize her relationship with Rio, see him call her out on that too. Idk. This scene has been four seasons coming so it better not be a disappointment.

#nbc good girls #gg spoilers #beth boland #annie marks #ruby hill #rio #gg season 4

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babiesdreams · 3 years

Note

Hi, can I request an nct (you can do Ot23 or a specific unit, that's up to you!) reaction to you self harming? 👉👈🥺 If you don't want to write it, that's ok, of course ❤️❤️ Thank you!!!

I can. But as I always say, please if you feel represented by this, get help, reach out to someone to talk about this issues and remember that there’s always an option. Feel free to message me and find this blog as your safe zone. Everyone’s welcome in here.

Self harm +18 (Because of the topic, not sexual things involved) Ot23

Warnings: Mentions of blood, self harm, mental issues, angsty stuff.

Taeyong 🌹 : He notices before it’s too late. He knows the process you normally go through before doing it, so when he notices, he quickly stops you. He gets you out of the bathroom and talks to you, calming you down with his words, trying to make sense of his and your messy thoughts. He reminds you how much time you’ve been without doing it and how he’s proud of you.

Taeil 🌕 : His eyes can’t get off your hand, holding a sharp pair of scissors, looking at how blood comes out from your recently cutted skin. Tears fall down his cheeks, as he stays still, unable to move a single muscle. “How... I-” His stutter makes you drop the scissors onto the floor. You start crying along with him, regretting absolutely everything. Taeil’s mind is stuck in a “What did I do wrong?” mindset for a while, thinking he should have done more.

Johnny 🐱 : He screams as soon as he sees you “Stop!” You can basically hear his heart breaking, and that kills you. “I- I-” You try to explain yourself, but there isn’t really an explanation to your habit, so you stutter, not knowing what to say or do. “You don’t need to say anything, I’m here, everything will be alright okay?” He hugs you for a long time and makes sure you never get to that stent again.

Yuta 🐙 : “Why is your... What happened?” He doesn’t quite understand at first, as it’s something he never pictured you to be doing, ever. You have to explain everything to him, calmed down and as racionally as you possibly can, and he’ll be cuddling you for a long while.

Kun 🐻 : “What’s this?” He asks brushing over your recent scars. You can’t hold back your tears while explaining what you were doing. He listens to you patiently, trying to calm you down as much as he can. He comforts you and makees sure you get the help you need.

Doyoung 🐰 : You are the one who tells him. “Why would you...” He tries speak his mind but prefers to keep some things to himself to avoid hurting you. “Just know you can trust in me okay? Everytime you feel like doing it come to me and we’ll talk, just... Don’t ever do it again please”

Ten 🐱 : “What are these bruises babe? Did someone harm you?” You felt ridiculous, how were you gonna explain to him that you were basically beating yourself up? How are you supposed to explain that? “I- um” After you explain him the situation he would get concerned about your behaviours, even if you didn’t think it was that important, it’s still a form of self harm. “You need to get help before this get worse. Even if I’m here, you need a professional”

Jaehyun 🍑 : “We need to talk” His serious tone has you wishing he won’t break up with you or something like that, but when he brings up the topic, you wish you were death, under the ground, just not there. You get how it’s something important to talk about, but it’s also embarrassing to feel exposed like that. “I’m not judging you babe, I’m just worried because you’re not seeing a problem in here”

Winwin 🐥 : He’s sad about it, but he hides it so damn well. He keeps calm and stays serious, in ways you never seen him before, but when you’re not watching he cries rivers. The simple thought of losing you is just too much for him and he can’t hold back tears.

Jungwoo 🐶 : You let the overall fall into the ground, revealing your naked body, along with your scars and cuts. You never felt so exposed in your life, but you were also happy it was him you showed it to. “I’m glad you decided to stop doing it and being so brave to show me baby, just thank you for trusting me”

Lucas 🦁 : Drops the bags he was holding and runs towards you. “What did you- Baby, no- Stop this has to stop. What do you need? Whatever it is I’ll get it for you just don’t please-” He’s so heartbroken. You’re everything for him and seeing you at your lowest just breaks him.

Mark 🐆 : “No hey, hey stop” He says when you start crying out of nowhere. “What happened? Tough day?” You shake your head, not knowing how to bring the conversation up. “I-” You simply say, showu¡ing him your recent cuts, starting to heal. “What’s wrong? Why didn′t you talk to me baby? Were you scared of my reaction?” You simply nod and hug him, letting your feelings explode suddenly. “Just, We’ll get some help for you okay?”

Xiaojun 🦕 : “I know I can seem cold, but don’t you trust me enough for this baby? I wouldn’t even judge you, I just wanna help you. Will you let me?” His words get you feeling even more emotional, as if you were doing something wrong. “I will, trust you Xiaojun, it’s just, I’ve never told anyone before and..” You are not able to finish your sentence before you burst into tears. “I’ts alright sweetie” He says hugging you tightly.

Hendery 🐴 : Asks you a lot about it. “Why did you do it? But when did you get that thought? Can I do something to help?” He’s truly helpless but the way he tries makes you feel better about it. He makes you realize you do need help, and proffessional one, people who will understand it even better than you. And his cuddles just brush the pain away.

Renjun 🦊 : He’s worried about your health in general, as you barely eat, don’t take care of yourself and basically sleep all day long. He’s concious of the risks of this kind of live, and it makes him wonder how far it could go. He basically talks it out with you and helps you get back to your normal self. It’s a tough path but having him besides you makes it better.

Jeno 🐶 : “Okay, first let’s get bandaids, and then we’ll talk okay?” He takes care of your injuries, keeping his calmed nature. “There’s nothing to worry about baby, this will never happen again, because I’m here okay?” You nod, still frowning uncontrollably. “Come here” He says pulling you into a hug. “Calm down okay? calm down” He whispers while drawing patterns on your neck.

Haechan 🐻 : Silence feels the room, as both of your eyes look at each other. The intense exchange is really scary to you. He’s just too broken and the fact that you did it with your own actions, kills you inside. “I can explain-” You say. But the tears falling down the boy’s cheeks stop you from talking anymore. “Never again please” are the only words he’s able to say while you embrace him. “I promise” You whisper in his ear. “Pinky promise?” He asks and you nod, repeating his words. “Pinky promise”

Jaemin 🐰 : You were sleeping on his chest and, in between carresses he finds out some recent scars on your skin. At first he’s terrified, not knowing what to do. But after searching for info on the internet he decides to confront you. He makes a whole plan on how to tell you, gives you different phones from mental health clinics nearby, buys you chocolate and all your favourite snacks and tries to make some positive memories out of it, to give you some hope about your future.

Yangyang 🐑 : “You said you needed to talk?” He asks scared. You nod at him and try to keep calm as you expose your concerns and alarming recent behaviours. “I just thought you needed to know..” He nods, still processing your words. “You know I’ll be here, no matter what happens, so don’t be ashamed or reserved about your feelings okay? I won’t judge you”

Shotaro 🦦 : You talk to him, why you’ve been hiding your body lately, why you felt so bad, so not you, so ugly and terrible. And even if he gets upset by the words you use to describe yourself, he tries his best to understand your feelings. “I also feel like that sometimes Y/n but this is not the way. Please just don’t ever do it again”

Chenle 🐬 : “Did you burn your hand cooking something?” He asks and you inmediately start sweating. It’s not how people usually see self harm so it was easier to lie about it, but why would you lie to him? So after a long time thinking, you tell him about it, making sure he understands your concerns and why you did it and everything. He tries his best to get your point but recommends you to talk it out with a professional rather than himself.

Sungchan 🦌 : “Okay so you’re not eating, barely do anything, hide yourself from the world and you want me to think you’re fine? I’m not stupid Y/n, you can trust me you know?” You look at him in the eyes and sigh, knowing he’s right. “Okay, but it’s not that important...” He would be hugging you the whole time.

Jisung 🐹 : He’s shaking, scared of what he’s seeing. He can’t belive you did that. He can’t believe he didn’t notice before. He blames himself for hours, there’s no way he did the right thing. He was supposed to be your support and instead he didn’t notice you were harming yourself. “I’m so sorry baby” He would say before hugging you.

——————————————————————

Masterlist –requests open– How to request? Check out your score.

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seokiloquy · 3 years

Text

Word Gets Around - Inarizaki

AU: Gang / Organized Crime

Requested (Hopefully you’ll like it, dear requester)

Tags/Warning: GN! Reader, a little cliche...I’m running out of ideas for gang aus sjdfk, not much plot...just random times with some of the inarizaki boys, I hope you get a kick from it though (it’s a bit different than how I usually write...at least in my opinion)

Word Count: 5.2k +

The most unexpected thing to happen to you was something that you should have expected, which was kind of sad, to be honest.

You tended to stay away from your family’s business: running one of the most powerful gangs in Miyagi prefecture, Shiratorizawa. You made that decision very early on in your life, knowing where the money for your food, house, and clothes came from made you want to vomit.

Your father hadn’t liked your decision but didn’t actively protest it either. However, whenever he tried to talk you into it, you would walk away and then hear him mumble, “They’ll change their mind eventually.”

You always resisted the urge to say, “I doubt it.” But even you wouldn’t provoke him like that. Not directly at least.

Since the pressure to take over the business had started at a young age, younger you thought the only way to combat your predestined fate was to be inherently bad at all of the skills that your father had deemed “worthy”.

He would give you a gun and you would accidentally shoot him in the foot. If he gave you reports and paperwork, you would spill your coffee or tea on them or accidentally place them in the shredder. If he gave you a group of people to manage a job—which you knew would be illegal—you would give them the day off or not show up at all.

Your father would lecture you and yell at you, but you learned to find joy from the look on his face when it turned blue and red from all the yelling. He tried to con you into it further, only bringing you into meetings and making you sit in his office for hours on end to convince you otherwise. It didn’t work. Hearing your father’s plans and account numbers was the most boring and dull thing on the planet.

You were great at being terrible and your father thought that you were terrible. After a while, he stopped trying.

You would spend most of your spare time doing schoolwork or helping your mom with whatever she needed to do that day.

As you helped your mom prepare dinner for that night, one of your father’s lackeys pulled you aside. You frowned. You didn’t recognize him, which was strange because you knew almost everyone who was a part of Shiratorizawa.

“Your father requested to see you,” he said. His face was pinched into an annoyed look. You doubted that he joined Shirtorizawa to be a messenger between parent and child.

“Okay,” you said. “Do you know what it's about?”

He glanced at you for a brief moment and then looked away quickly. He shook his head and then walked away.

Well, he definitely knows something, you thought. You called back to your mom and told her where you were going.

Though you’ve lived here your entire life, your house still amazed you. It was bigger than any house on the block, the floors were white and grey marble, all of the doors were taller and wider than they need to be, and there were more pieces of art littered around than a museum. You didn’t know how they were all acquired, but something in you never asked.

You knocked once on the door to your father’s office and let yourself in.

Your father sat behind his desk like he always would, back straight and arms folded and balanced on the edge of the desk, but there was something different.

A group of people sat around him. An older-looking man sat back in the chair that was across your father’s desk. You could see the edges of his glasses poke out, but he otherwise didn’t look at you. You had, however, caught the attention of the two boys that were standing on either side of the man.

They couldn’t have been much older than you. The taller of the two had dark brown hair, parted directly down the middle with little strings at the front that stood up. He looked at you rather indifferently, giving you a glance over, narrowing his eyes slightly, and then turning back to your father as if he took a mental picture of you for him to dissect later.

The other one had a head of grey hair with black tips on the ends. He looked at you softly, but, still, after a moment turned his attention back to your father.

Dread filled your stomach. You mentally ticked off all of the things your father could have called you up here for. He wasn’t the type of person to yell at you for being a disappointment in front of an audience. Unless he decided to switch things up a bit.

“Am I interrupting? I can come back,” you said, steeling yourself. You clenched your jaw tightly.

“No,” your father said. “Take a seat, (Y/N).”

You walked through the silence and sat in the chair that was opposite to your father and beside the unknown man and boys.

You looked between the two sets of people. “No.”

Your father raised his brow. “Excuse me.”

You shrugged. “Whatever is going here, I disagree, so no to what you’re going to ask me.”

The boy with the brown hair snorted, earning him a jab in the side from the older man sitting in the chair beside you.

Your father sighed. “You don’t really have a choice.”

“I don’t?” you said, questioning the words as they left your mouth.

“You don’t,” he repeated sternly. His voice was low and rough. You recognized his tone as your queue to stop talking. You learned the hard way that if you pushed past that point, it would end badly.

You looked away. “Then why am I here?”

“I can answer that,” the man said. He adjusted his glasses and turned to you. “Your father made a deal with us and lost. So, you will be working for us until his debt is paid off.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?” You looked pointedly towards your father. “Is that true? You traded your own child? So you could what? Avoid whatever they threaten you with? You’re pathetic.”

Your father glared at you, his fists tightening into balls on his desk. “Do not speak to me that way. And you will go with them.”

“No, I won’t,” you said, “and I’m pretty sure that this is illegal.”

“All that we do is illegal, (Y/N).”

“All that you do is illegal,” you spat back.

Your father bolted up from behind his desk and walked over to your side of the table. He excused himself, curtly, to his guests, then grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you outside of his office.

He closed the door and turned to you. “Go along with it.”

“What is your problem,” you said, ignoring the pain in your arm from where his grip held on. “Even though you do shady things all of the time, I thought you’d at least draw the line at giving your kid to someone, which is definitely illegal and out of some wacky-ass fanfiction.”

“Calm down,” your father said. “This is all a part of the plan.”

The plan? You thought. He has officially lost it. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You’re going to go with them,” he said again, “and you’re going to gather intel about them and report back. You’ll be at the heart of Inarizaki. You’ll know everything that they do, plan, and you can come back and tell me everything that they do and plan. You’ll redeem yourself and then be ready to take over.”

You scoffed. “The only thing that I will be doing is getting axe-murdered or worse.”

He ignored you. “You’ll come back after a year and it’ll be like nothing happened. They aren’t going to harm you either. It’s a part of the deal that we made, they just wanted to have someone do grunt work for them and they wanted you because you’re my child.”

Maybe you should axe murder him. When have people in his line of work ever kept promises they made? You’ve seen him make and break more promises than you could keep track of.

“What deal did you make?” You already knew you were fighting a losing battle. “What about mom? You’re insane if you think she’ll forgive you for this.”

“It’s nothing bad,” he said. Lie, you thought. “I made a bad bet—”

“And I’m paying the price.”

“You’re just going to live with them for a bit and your mother is going to think that you’re going abroad. Listen—”

You stopped listening. You couldn’t believe it. You shook in rage and hatred for the person standing in front of you. You always knew that he did awful things to a lot of people, but you never expected that you would make it onto that list.

At least if you were murdered in the middle of the night wherever these Inarizaki people were taking you, you’d be far away from him.

“Fine,” you said. “Let’s lead me to my death.”

“We aren’t going to kill you,” the man in the glasses—Kurosu, you reminded yourself, the leader of Inarizaki—said as he pulled out of your house’s driveway.

You got some time to pack up your things and got to hug and say goodbye to your mom before leaving. Your father had offered you a smile and a knowing look, but you barely cast him a second glance. It probably never occurred to him that you could spill all of Shiratorizawa’s secrets without blinking.

Yes, you did your best to stay away from all of the technical and logistics of Shirstorizawa’s operations, but that was the sole reason that your father had been flimsy and unaware of all of the stuff he said to the members of his gang while you were in the room.

You looked at the rearview mirror, catching the eyes of Kurosu. “And I totally believe you.”

The boy sitting beside you, the one with the dark hair, the one who snorted at your previous comment, laughed.

“Suna,” said Kurosu.

“Yes?” he said.

“Would you like to add something?”

Suna turned to you. “We don’t axe murder people.”

You glared at him. “And I totally believe you too.”

Suna fixed his gaze out the window again. “Kita? Much longer until we’re back home?”

The grey-haired boy shrugged. “10 minutes. Maybe 20 if there’s any more traffic.”

Kita, who was sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and looked at you. His eyes drifted to your arm and then back up to your eyes. “Do you even know what you’ll be doing?”

“Planning my funeral?”

Kurosu sighed and made a left turn. “You will be doing what you did for your father.”

Your eyebrows drew together. “What do you think I did for my father?”

“You were trained to take over Shiratorizawa were you not? Paperwork, running jobs, fieldwork. Sound familiar?”

You caught eyes with the grey hair boy again. You almost felt bad for them. Has your father really made this deal? He told you that you’d be doing grunt work, so it looks like they weren’t the only ones being lied to.

“Unless paperwork includes shredding files; running jobs means getting groceries; and fieldwork means taking the bus to school, then my father really oversold my skills.”

“What do you mean?” Kita asked.

Something rude to say sat at the tip of your tongue. You paused. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know that they made a deal with a lair. But how intelligent could their organization be if they wanted the child of someone else’s gang to help them? How intelligent was your father for sending you over with them?

“I never wanted any part in Shiratorizawa,” you said. “So, I refused to learn everything that came with the job. I never did any of the things you listed and never wanted any part in it.”

As Kurosu pulled up to a red light, he turned to look at you. You felt all three pairs of eyes on you. You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater and looked out the window.

“Congrats,” you said dully, “you’ve hired the most skilless person for the job.”

It wasn’t as if you were expecting a grand entrance with a red and gold carpet, but it did shock you when absolutely no one was standing at the entrance of the Inarizaki house. You could tell that the house was full of people too. There were shoes scattered along the entrance and you could hear quick footsteps and backtracks from the floor above you. At your house, there were always people patrolling and walking through the halls.

They were completely unguarded.

You made a note of that. Even though you were going to tell your father that they were heavily guarded and armed, you never knew when the information you took in would be of use. The unguarded doors meant that they were trying to keep people out, but they weren’t trying to keep you in.

“Excuse me,” Kurosu muttered. He made the first left and disappeared around it. You hoped that he was going to yell at your father. Maybe he would send you back in the process.

Suna had left quietly. You hadn’t noticed he was gone until you turned around and only saw Kita. His expression was unreadable.

So far, you had only met two of the members of Inarizaki and their leader, and you couldn’t tell if they liked you or even accepted your presence in their home.

“Do I get a room?” you asked.

He didn’t answer, only tipping his head to the side slightly.

“Or am I sleeping in a barn or something?”

You took a step further into the building. From the outside, you couldn’t make out the size of the building. One thing that you could discern was that it was definitely bigger than your house. This was a place that was meant to hold a lot of people.

A grand staircase stood at the centre of the main floor—the floor that you were on—and led to a second landing which branched off into opposite directions.

“The second floor is where all of the rooms are,” Kita said. He walked up beside you and pointed to the left, the hallway that Kurosu had disappeared down. “That is where Kurosu’s quarters and office are. It’s not off-limits, but no one really goes there unless they need something or it’s an emergency”—he gestured to the right— “the kitchen and training room are over there. There are smaller hallways that lead elsewhere, but I’m not sure that you’ll be staying here for that long.”

“What makes you say that?”

Kita took a step forward and then turned to face you. “I’m not sure what the deal was exactly. I overheard that picking you, specifically, was just to tick off your father. Kurosu thought that you’d be helpful in something, but since you said that you don’t have any skills for what we could use you for, he might send you back.”

You ignored the fact that you were being spoken of as if you were talked up to be a prized cattle, only for the person who brought you to realize that you couldn’t make milk. Now, you were being sent to the slaughterhouse.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“About what?”

“About this situation,” you said. “Would you have taken someone away from their family as a power move? Made them do something to settle a score?”

Kita paused. And you waited. You didn’t know how long he was going to think for his answer, but you wanted to know and it’s not like you had anything else to do.

“I would like to think that I wouldn’t. I’m sorry that this happened to you, but it’s not something that anyone else but Kurosu and your father had control over. I’m sure you’ll find a way to settle the score.”

You swallowed. Oh, he had no idea what was coming to your father.

“Does your arm hurt?” he asked calmly.

You blinked. “My arm?”

He pointed at your arm that your father had grabbed. Without a word, he carefully held your wrist and pushed up your sleeve. You winced when the bunched up cloth rolled over the spot where your father’s grip was the strongest. The faintest marks of a bruise were starting to form.

Kita dropped your arm and started walking to the right of the staircase. “Stay there.”

What was that? you thought. After a moment, you were sure that he had abandoned you. You only took a couple of steps forwards when he rounded the corner. In his hand was a blue gel pack.

He handed it to you. “Put it on your arm,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Kita nodded and then started up the stairs. “I’ll show you to your room.”

You kept your eyes busy. There was still no security of any kind, no bars on the windows, or cameras everywhere.

He stopped in front of a door. “Can I ask you something?”

The coolness of the gel pack made you shiver. “If I say no, are you still going to ask?”

“Probably.”

You sighed. “Go ahead then.”

“What did your father tell you when he pulled you aside?”

You squeezed the pack between your fingers. Kita’s eyes were marked on you, unwavering. You knew he wasn’t going to leave it alone until you answered.

There was no point in lying, is there? These were the people who you’d be staying with for who knows how long—they said a year, but that could always change and it wasn’t something that you were in control of.

“He told me to spy for him,” you told him.

“Are you going to?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Kita clicked his tongue and then opened the door. “I think you have.”

He took a step back. As you passed him, he leaned down to whisper, “I pity your father.”

Sleep did not find you. At all. Maybe it was because the room Kita showed you was so unfamiliar—and surprisingly well-furnished—that it just made you miss your own room. But your unrested mind brought you back to the fear of being axed murdered.

Your stomach growled. You frowned. Right, you were in the middle of preparing dinner before you were suddenly ripped away from your home, and now that it was in the middle of the night, you were nervous, anxious, and hungry.

You opened the door to your room. The hallway was brightly lit and empty. All of the footsteps you heard on your way up to the room had gone quiet. You turned back into your room and grabbed a candle holding that was placed on one of the mantels.

Their father’s words echoed in their brain. In an unknown place, never go without a weapon.

At least he was good for something, you thought.

Closing the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway. You recognized the familiar landmarks in the hallway that had led to the staircase—a picture frame a few doors down, a vase that stood on the podium at the corner where you had to turn.

Soon enough, you found your way back to the grand staircase. The tall door loomed over you as you placed your hand on the doorknob.

I could leave.

You began to twist it.

You jumped in alarm as a small crash sounded to the left of the hall. You glanced back at the door. It was probably locked and you didn’t have any of your stuff. How far would you have gotten? And even if you got far, where would you go?

Despite your better judgment, you followed the sound. This is how people in horror movies get killed, you thought. This hallway was darker than the one upstairs, but a strong crack of light shone through a door. You raised the candle holder.

Toe-ing the door opened, you straightened your spine and held the holder tighter. As your line of sight got wider, you saw a boy standing behind a long metal table. A backdrop of fridges and cabinets came into view. He had his head down, his rough grey hair fell in front of his forehead and eyes. He focused on something that was in hind hands.

The creaking of the door gave you away. The boy’s head jerked up, dropping what he was working on. His hand cautiously slid over the knife on the table.

His eyes locked onto yours and then travelled to the candle holder in your raised hand. He frowned. “Are you (Y/N)?”

You swallowed. “Maybe.”

The corners of his lips tugged up. “Are you going to hit me with that thing?”

“Maybe,” you repeated.

“Okay,” he said. His eyes lingered on you for another moment before he shrugged and picked up the thing he had dropped.

Were all of the Inarizaki members so...carefree? If you were back at your house, the slightest creak in the floorboards was enough cause to have security roaming around the halls.

You took a step closer. The item that he dropped was rice. You glanced at the table. A bowl of rice was beside him as well as various fillings and dishes. A cutting board that was covered in pieces of cut seaweed was in front of him. His head was back down and his hands were shaping rice into triangles.

“Are you making Onigiri?”

He met your gaze again, his eyes gleaming in a way they hadn’t before as if the topic cheered him up. “I am,” he said. He cocked his head to the side. “The finished ones are over there if you want some.”

He watched you. “Unless you want to beat me to death with a candle holder.”

You glared and tentatively put the holder down. “It would be a waste of a candle holder. It’s probably expensive too.”

“It is,” he said, “it’s also stolen.”

You scrunch your nose. “Pleasant.”

You picked up the Onigiri closest to you. It was still warm. “It’s not...poisoned is it?”

He scoffed and looked at you offendedly. “You can threaten me with a candle holder, but do not insult my food.”

You raised your eyebrows, a small smile finding its way to your mouth. “I’ll take that as a no then.”

The rice melted in your mouth. It tasted so much like your mother’s; if you closed your eyes, you could picture yourself standing back in your kitchen. Your mother would smile at you and then scold you for moulding the rice too harshly.

“A lighter touch, (Y/N),” she would say. “Take your time. No need to rush.”

“Are you okay?” the grey-haired boy asked.

You wiped your tears away hastily and turned to him. “These are really good,” you said, a light tone in your voice. You finished off the Onigiri in silence and then picked up another one. He didn’t pressure any more information out of you. “Do you need any help?”

He glanced at the bowl of rice beside him. Despite the full try of onigiri, there was still quite a bit of rice left. “Do you know how to make them?”

“My mom taught me.”

He regarded you thoughtfully. “There are gloves under the sink,” he said, “or you can just wash your hands. It doesn’t matter.”

Shortly after you washed your hands, you joined him at the table. The first few were done in silence. You focused on the repeated motion.

“I am (Y/N), by the way,” you muttered. “In case you didn’t notice.”

He chuckled. “I’ve noticed.” He paused. “Miya Osamu.”

You nodded. You slowed your pace, not wanting to go back upstairs yet.

“I heard you think that we’re going to axe murder you,” he said. When he saw you look at him, he shrugged. “Word gets around. My brother got a kick out of it.”

You jutted out your chin. “Maybe I should kick your brother.”

Osamu laughed, a sharp, cheerful sound that made you smile. “I would love to see that.” He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “We’re not that bad, you know.”

“I don’t think that you’re all spawns of demons,” you said. “I just think that it would be easier if I could...hate all of you,” you admitted. “It’s obvious that I don’t want to be here, which you probably know. I have zero skills that are helpful to Inarizaki as a whole and if I hate it here then it’ll be easier to go back.”

“To the father who gave you to us like nothing?”

You shrugged. “My mother’s there. The little details don’t matter.”

Osamu smiled. “Okay, but don’t say that you’re skill-less. You know how to make Onigiri and probably a lot more, if you ask me, that’s a solid skill in my book.”

Word gets around.

You thought about it when you parted ways with Osamu and until your eyes closed for the night. The words still lingered in your mind when you woke up.

You washed up and changed clothes.

When you had arrived at Inarizaki house, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours for word to get around. The members either had a way to get a message around or they were all super chatty among each other.

You frowned. Texts messages you dumbass.

“Why. Am. I. So. Stupid,” you muttered, banging your head against the door for each word. But if it was something else, you wanted to know how they did it.

Your door opened and you jumped back.

A golden-yellow head of hair popped out from the crack in the door. The boy widened the door and stood up straight. He had a lazy smirk on his face and looked like Osamu. My brother got a kick out of it.

“Did you knock?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes. “Were you waiting for my knock?”

His lazy smirk grew. “I wait for a lot of things, lunch for one. I’ll walk you?”

You hesitated. All of the people you’ve met have been kind to you, or at least didn’t harm you, but you couldn’t be sure when that would end.

“Unless you’d rather kick me first? Word—”

“—gets around,” you finished. “I know.” You cleared your throat. “I said that your brother could watch when I did.”

He laughed. “I bet he did. Let’s go.”

He—Atsumu, he introduced—walked ahead of you, only glancing back every now and then to make sure you were following. “Were you just lying about not being able to do anything?”

“I know how to make Onigiri and I’m surprisingly good at cutting out paper hearts.”

He rolled his eyes.

You continued, “I can also hold my breath underwater for—”

“You know what I mean,” he cut off.

You grinned. “I know what I’m supposed to do, I’ve just never done any of it.”

Atsumu furrowed his eyes together. “But you know what to do.”

You matched his pace as he descended the stairs. “Is there something that you want in particular or are you just full of fun questions?

Atsumu turned around. You pulled yourself back from nearly crashing into him. He eyed you weirdly. It was reminiscent of his brother’s gaze, but it had a level of confidence and menace that made you feel like you were on the losing side.

If I’m getting axe-murdered by anyone here, it’ll definitely be by this guy, you thought. You pulled your shoulders back.

“Are you usually this straightforward?” he asked.

“Are you usually this vague?”

“I want to know what you know.”

You blinked. “Yeah, I’m not following.”

Atsumu looked around the room. There were loud sounds coming from the kitchen, but otherwise, the main room was empty. He leaned in, smirk gone. You forced yourself not to move away.

“Kurosu doesn’t tell us much in terms of how Inarizaki runs, like he just assumes that he’s going to live forever and won’t pass on any information to any of us. You, out of all odds, probably know more about how to run a gang than any of us.”

“So you want me to tell you what I know?” You shook your head. “That requires the assumption that I actually know what you want.”

“But you do,” a voice said.

You and Atsumu whipped your heads over the banister of the stairs. Kita, Osamu, Suna, and a few other people you didn’t recognize gathered to the side of the stairs.

Kita’s eye’s flashed as he took a step forward. “You can’t tell me that your father didn’t make you sit through meetings and forced information on you. I saw the way you looked around when I was showing you to your room, you were taking in information the way that Kurosu did when we went to your house, the way that we’re all trained to do. Even if you claim that you’re skilless, it doesn’t mean that you are.”

“It could be a partnership,” Atsumu suggested, his eyes back on you. “Kurosu told us this morning that you’re staying until the deal is over. Your father said it was his own fault that Kurosu didn’t verify if you had the skills or not.”

“Sounds like him,” you said. “What an ass.”

Atsumu snickered.

You went around Atsumu to level yourself with the rest of the Inarizaki members. They all had the same gleam in their eye of determination...and something else. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Atsumu footsteps followed behind you and then joined the side of the other members.

You stood away from them. “Are you going to tell Kurosu?”

“No,” Kita said.

“A partnership,” you repeated. “Doesn’t that mean we both benefit from this? Not that I really need or want anything, but there’s got to be something right? Are you going to get me a lifetime supply of ice cream?”

“We can get you that, or at least try, if that’s what you want,” Suna said, his quiet voice took over the room. “A lot can happen in a year. For instance, your father could have an unfortunate accident.”

“You want to kill him?”

Suna shrugged. “It can be arranged is what I’m saying.”

You sighed. “No killing, please.”

“Then what do you want?” Osamu asked.

You could picture yourself clearly. A year from now you would walk into your father’s house and recite all of the things that you’ve learned from Inarizaki. You would stretch the truth until it became paper-thin. You would watch your father fall so slowly, it would be as if he willingly pushed himself off the cliff

You smiled. “I’ve got a thing or two in mind.”

A lot could happen in a year and you would make the most of it.

Tackling these requests slowly because my tiny peanut brain can’t come up with any ideas of how I want stories to go.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed - Kiwi

Posted: 16/05/2021

#inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Halloween

Right after 5x01 with Reid and Hotch both pulling away, Morgan and Emily take matters into their own hands.

“I don’t want to.”

Morgan, who up until that point, had really, truly believed that the worst of his year was behind him closes his eyes with a tired sigh. As if the pig farm hadn’t felt suffocating on its own, now it’s tangled in his mind with Foyet. The pigs, Mason, that poor girl, and Hotch. Because that terrible night hadn’t ended for Hotch as it had for the rest of them. They slept while Hotch lay on his apartment floor, his own blood soaking into his clothes. The hospital hadn’t even washed the dried blood from his hair by the time the team arrived.

Emily had the next day. It had taken Derek and Emily both to do the seemingly mindless task. Hotch had been uncomfortable, dirty and the nurses had given them the leeway to tackle the task together. And they were both very aware of how annoyed he was to have to succumb to their help. Hotch can hardly raise his arms to his waist, he wasn’t going to be washing his one hair. And as the oldest of his own siblings and still leaning heavily into that protective mindset, Morgan would heavily prefer it to be him there. So, bracing Hotch’s side with his own body, Derek had held Hotch upright while Emily gently scrubbed his hair clean of his blood.

The scent thick and acidic but slowly replaced with a smell distinctly hospital-like. The water had browned, the suds too dirty to even help only about halfway through. Standing there, Hotch’s body growing heavier and shaking gently against Morgan’s ribs he could see every bone in his boss’s back. And, too soon, they had to call it quiets. The monitors were picking up, distraught with the pain Hotch had hidden so well. His heart missing beats as Morgan had eased his head back into the pillows.

Emily standing there, white as a ghost, with that bucket of water. Hotch was only half-aware of them and their intentions by then. Watching Morgan behind half-lidded eyes and lips pale and parted as he took a dry rag through his hair. Morgan’s mother had always told him that going out in the cold with wet hair would give you pneumonia and while he had never known anyone to get pneumonia like that he wasn’t going to take any chances. Even if they were in a temperature-controlled hospital room.

And through all of that, Hotch had made it. Slowly, through shrieking monitors and more than one scare, alive. A fucking miracle.

“What do you mean you don’t want to go?” It’s Halloween. For as long as Morgan has known Reid, it’s been his favorite holiday. Hell, everyone knows it’s his favorite holiday. Even Hotch gets a little festive in the name of bringing even the faintest smile to Reid’s face. The idea for today, a party to celebrate Halloween, had been done with Reid specifically in mind. Being cooped up in this apartment isn’t good for him.

Reid who hasn’t actually looked at Morgan since he came in, twirls the frayed ends of his blanket around his finger. “I don’t want to,” he repeats. It’s one thing to mop about in this apartment. Here, no one watches him struggle to move. No one looks too hard, too long at his ill-practiced steps. At the crutches tucked under his scrawny arms. Worse is that if he goes, he can’t take his crutches. He’ll have to the stupid wheelchair in his room. Whos open seat is a crookedly carved leather smile, taunting him.

Morgan shakes his head and keeps at his current project. For the past week (has it been a week? He isn’t certain) he’s done nothing but tidies up every space around him. Having attacked Hotch’s apartment-- tearing up that blood-stained carpet, patching the hole in the wall, fixing a leaky faucet in the guest room, and cleaning out his worryingly empty fridge-- he’s come to Reid’s. The thing is Reid is going to make this process a little harder. There are bits and pieces of Reid in every corner of his apartment. Not self-deprecatingly bare like Hotch’s. Here, he can’t disrupt the way books lie because they all have been sectioned and left where they are with purpose. There is a purpose to his chaos more meaningful than Hotch’s out of sight out of mind.

“Well, you have to go.”

Reid frowns, biting his lip to refrain from whining. Despite having done more by his current twenty-four-years of age than any of them, they still treat him like a child. And while any of them might be forgiven for a bit of childish refusal he won’t be. Well, in all fairness, he is prone to a bit more childish things than they are. Reid had to be forced to go to the doctor’s for a check-up after getting anthrax and all because he had thought they might ask to do blood tests. What had made him go, in the end? Morgan taking Reid himself. It was humiliating but when they draw blood Morgan had offered his hand and Reid had taken it.

Now, Morgan’s just asking for a favor. For Reid to suck it up, just this once. To have fun and be easy. “Hotch is only coming because he’s under the impression this is all for you.” And it is, all for Reid. None of them care about Halloween. Hotch least of all. But the two of them are going to go crazy cooped up on their own.

Of course, that’s only mostly true.

It’s entirely Morgan and Emily’s idea.

“Okay,” Reid sighs, scratching self-conscious at his scalp. “I just…” he shoves the blankets off his legs. “Just need a few minutes.” A shower. He needs a shower and, if he’s granted the time for it, a pity nap.

Morgan hums, head bent to his current task of cleaning Reid’s strangely large collection of mugs lining his counter. “As long as you need,” he mumbles.

Two years ago, if someone sat David Rossi down and told him that on a Saturday in October he’d be celebrating Halloween as a fully grown man... he wouldn’t believe them. Add in the fact that he would be doing this because it’s a twenty-something-year-old genius’s favorite holiday and he’s doing it to lighten the mood of his old prodigy… well, he’d consider himself senile.

He should have stayed retired.

As of the last month, he’s been thinking that a lot. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the little ragtag team Aaron’s created in his absence but they're a little crazy and trouble magnets-- Emily and Reid attempt at a second Waco with Benjamin Cyrus, the bombing in New York, and George Foyet. All within the span of a year. He’s only heard about some of the other things they did before he came back.

These freaking kids are crazy.

“Will you just listen to me,” Dave is multi-tasking. Aside from picking out comfortable clothes for the evening he also has got to swindle Hotch into coming out to the party. “For once in your life, Aaron, just listen to me.” As dramatic as that may sound, it’s kind of fair. Even when they prodigy and mentor, Aaron had a flair for taking Dave’s instructions in one ear and out the other.

“Dave,” comes Aaron’s soft rebuttal. He’s exhausted. Much to his chagrin, three days rest has done nothing to mend the bone-tired ache in his body. Add the depression he can feel settling across his sternum and the way his ribs feel like they’re being pried open… He has no interest in watching his team get drunk at Dave’s house. Call him a buzzkill or a killjoy to heart’s content, that’s not going to change his mind.

Besides, the last thing he needs is to start himself into a bad habit of drinking every time he’s sad. Then what? He starts himself down a road of addiction. He comes to work drunk. Derek tries to say something. Dave is worried. He gets fired. He’s no better than his own father.

Rossi’s voice softens, any of the agitation previously in his voice is gone. “Aaron,” he calls through the speaker. “I’m not asking. Emily’s on her way right now to come to get you.” He sighs under his breath, just tired, not even mad. “You can make that hard for her,” Dave offers, knowing that’s what Hoch is going to be inclined to do. “I think we both know she deserves a break from that, though.”

Hotch feels the defeat pull his shoulders down. He’s been an asshole lately. Logically, he knows it’s a progression of all the emotions he’s feeling and burying. Emily doesn’t hate him for that but he knows she’s starting to feel overwhelmed by it. And given how successful his other attempts at pushing everyone else away has been, he might just owe her a little reprieve. To do this one thing without an entire battle.

“I’ll… I’ll be there.”

Dave smiles on the other side of the line, content with himself. “Thank you, Aaron. I will see you there, kiddo.”

It’s always the smartest people that fall for the simplest tricks.

Unlike Derek, Emily does feel bad about their plan. Logically, she’s very aware of how beneficial it’s going to be. If they don’t invite themselves over, Reid won’t ask anyone to come. Which means that he’s got to be getting his meals some other way. The thing is, if he were getting them delivered by a friend unknown to his team members, there should be something left over. Food in his fridge or trash in his garbage can. But there’s nothing.

Why does love have to be so difficult? How is it that some people understand it and others are stunningly unaware? Somehow wrapping their pretty little heads around this idea that they are undeserving or tricksters for having tricked someone into caring about them. If they didn’t love Reid would they feverishly watch over him? Did he really consider himself that sinister? That malicious? That he could trick profilers into loving him? Let it be clear, there is no trick. They are not so foolish and he not so unlovable.

“Derek, I think we might--”

Reid’s wobbly. He’s not yet mastered the crutches (at all). His practice comes only from the hospital and then his instructions had been brief before he was sent down the hall. A nurse just needing to see he could maneuver them and that they were at the right height. So, as bitter as he is to admit it, Derek’s lightly placed hand on the small of his back is very helpful.

Turning to see Emily, Reid lurches dangerous and Morgan moves quickly to stop him from falling. Just behind them, SUV pulled up onto Rossi’s lawn as close as she could pull it up, Emily is helping Hotch out of the car. Even from here, he can hear the lowered grumbling shared between the two. Despite being unable to see Hotch except for one brief moment, Reid’s glad to at least hear the other man. Him and Emily clipping rough comments back and forth. Bordering on rude but it’s between them and they’ve always let one another slide in these areas.

Vaguely he can piece together that they’re arguing about whether or not Morgan’s help is needed. “--wheelchair, that you made me leave-- I will take you back-- walker-- asshole!” Despite how angrily they nip back and forth, it’s all in what they don’t say. Hotch falls into Emily’s guiding step. Not even breaking from his own comment as her hand comes around his hips and effortlessly supports his weight as they take a step up. Neither taking the blow below the belt to note how Hotch’s words get cut off by a hardly contained whimper of pain or how choked his quick, distressed breathing becomes.

Morgan’s help is needed but Emily is too focused on keeping Hotch’s feet firmly planted on the ground and Hotch too worried about not busting his ass on the ice.

Reid jerks as Dave’s front door is thrown open. One hand on his hip, an apron over his chest, he shakes his head at the sight of the four of them. “I can hear you two arguing like children from in the house!” he shouts. He steps out onto the porch, tucking the towel in his hand into his pants. “Grown adults out here acting like children!” There is an unmistakable David Rossi laced fondness in his tone. That, despite his haste movements and dry frown, is taken as such because they know him. And he knows Hotch and Emily well enough to know this would happen.

“Get yourselves inside,” Rossi’s entire body changes when he sees Morgan and Reid. A simple passing hand down Morgan’s back for encouragement. “There’s root beer in the bottom drawer in the fridge, have Henry get you one!”

Reid smiles, suddenly excited for this afternoon. Root beer is… it’s the keystone of his childhood. There was not a matter he and his mother couldn’t handle with a little root beer. And while he doesn’t indulge himself often with that luxury (still some part of his brain fails to comprehend that he has the money to get it) Dave always has it. Hearing that Henry is here, implying Will and JJ too, he feels himself growing giddy. Pleased. He can’t wait to talk to them. For Will to hit his shoulder with his fist just a little too hard and to rustle his hair. JJ hovering and laughing. Henry. Smiling laughing.

Dave keeps going.

His frowning turning into a small while Hotch’s dark eyes find him, a glint of hope. “Our poor hero,” Dave greets in a half-jab at Hotch. He cups the younger man’s cheek, smiling at him. “I assume Emily has been her cruel and unusual self?” Once again, another jab. It’s a perfect balance. He neither takes Emily’s side (exhausted by Hotch’s antics) nor Hotch’s (exhausted by Emily’s antics).

They both scoff, at both implications.

“Hotch is being an asshole,” Emily grumbles, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. “Per his usual self.”

Hotch turns to Dave and returns, “to answer your question, yes she is.”

Wedged between Dave and Emily, Hotch makes it to the porch. Emily only hits him once. Once. He deserved it.

“Would you two behave?”

They get all of two steps in before JJ puts a stop to it. You see, no one ever listens to Dave. Not once has anyone ever listened to Hotch but JJ. No, to JJ, they always listen. And with a slow final few blows, Hotch and Emily stop bickering.

“Now,” JJ has flour on her chest. An honor which means Rossi has let her within his kitchen. “Go sit,” she points to the living room, stepping aside to let them through. “Behave yourselves or I’m not letting you eat until you hug and tell each other you love one another.” Her grandmother used to force that punishment on JJ and her sister as children. Cruel, she had thought then, but JJ has learned it to be very useful. As they pass, she hears them both grumble something about Hotch’s mostly liquid diet and how Emily doesn’t think that’s very fair. JJ throws her own towel at their heads. It’s well worth the shared smirk of mischief shared between Hotch and Emily.

Little deviants, she thinks with an eye roll. It’s Halloween so she lets it slide.

In the living room, Reid and Hotch are left while the others fight over one another in the kitchen. The clatter is heard through the whole house. Morgan making Garcia laugh, a barking sound that draws a smile from Reid. Joyous. Emily lightly teasing Rossi for what she teases is new greying in his hair. She asks if he’d like her to dye it for him the next time he gets his hair colored. Her triumphant laughter is just as freeing.

“Hotch?”

Beaten by the effort it took to walk all the way to the living room, Hotch had mostly succumbed to his placement on in the lazyboy. A chair, in which, he had never sat once in all the years he’d visited Dave’s. But the recliner is large and he can easily lean to support his side. Keeping an arm wrapped around his aching side. Without opening his eyes, head tilted back he hums. “Yeah?”

Reid’s knee is carefully surrounded by pillows. Even if it’s jostled, it’s fully supported in every direction. He’d been sitting here, watching Hotch’s face steadily grow blank. Masking his pain. He’d wanted to know if Hotch too had been tricked into coming. But then, as Morgan, followed closely by Garcia and the others, step in and Reid finds he doesn’t actually need to know. Hotch came, didn’t he? Left the safety of his dark apartment in favor of their boisterous company. Of little Henry in his Spiderman costume and Garcia and her own elaborate Harry Potter costume.

Derek hands Reid a plate, mostly finger foods a bit of pasta. His plate mirrors Henry’s. While the other’s all eat healthy amounts of pasta. Will sneaks him a napkin, which confuses him, until Will covers his hand over Reid’s and whispers “there are eight Oreos in this napkin”. Sweets, which JJ and Garcia had deprived him until he cleaned his plate. And when JJ caves, Reid’s stomach full of the carrots, crackers, and grapes his plate had primarily had (as well as those Oreos), and brings him a slice of pie and ice cream Will only shakes his head with a smirk.

Hotch manages a few spoonful's of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

“You could eat something else,” Dave ventures, scowling. But Hotch’s body is very displeased and what little solid food he’d managed to eat in the last few days was having a tendency to come right back up. Abdominal trauma, the doctor’s kept informing them, often caused this. They just needed to wait it out.

“He’s got the palate of a toddler,” Emily mumbles but she means it fondly. She punctuates it by throwing a carrot at his head. He doesn’t have the dexterity to swat it out of the air so it hits his head and he just scowls at her.

Reid sides with Hotch. “Chicken noodle soup is the best soup,” he offers in Hotch’s defense. Blushing when Hotch just looks sadly at him, as if broken by the idea that Reid is the only person left to defend him.

“It is,” Garcia tries to add, helpfully. She smiles encouragingly to Hotch but once again he takes them siding with him poorly. If all the sympathy he can garner is from Reid and Garcia, he’s hopeless. He loves them dearly but they effortlessly take his side. “And you leave my boss man alone! If he wants to eat chicken noodle soup then you let him.”

Hotch hums to that, quirking an eyebrow at Garcia, and looking down at Emily. Of all the places for her to sit, she’d chosen the floor. With a whole floor to choose from, she still sat down right at his feet. Resting her back against his shins. Which he didn’t mind but he knew she’d done it just to annoy him.

Henry grows tired of his adult company and with the sun falling, he knows what’s coming. Even at three, he’s aware of what he’s supposed to be doing.

“Go on,” Hotch encourages. He knows they’re only holding back for two reasons: Reid and him. But Henry shouldn’t suffer just because he managed to piss off the one Unsub brave enough to attack him and Reid unfortunate enough to get shot. “We won’t go anywhere. I’ll put on Doctor Who,” he bargains. “Reid won’t go anywhere.” But it’s not really Reid they’re worried about. “I’ll take a nap,” he offers. Which is what his body needs but he’s not so sure he’ll actually commit to that.

“Don’t move.” Emily orders.

“I’ll make sure he stays put,” Reid says, with a nod. But given how stupid they both are, Emily loves the commitment but doesn’t take the offer too seriously. Hotch with a blanket tucked over his legs and Reid happily humming away to the Doctor Who theme song, they’re left to the silence of Dave’s house. The others out taking Henry around the block for some trick or treating.

Hotch does take that nap and Reid contently gets sucked into Doctor Who. Content in ways they both thought were only possible locked away in their own misery.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #will lamontagne #david rossi #henry jareau

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crookswithbooks · 3 years

Text

How To Seduce A Talking Cat

Day Ten - Bean helps Elfo come up with strategies on how to seduce their favorite demon and Elfo himself continues to be awkward and terrible at most everything.

Waking up in a pool of sunlight was usually an enjoyable experience for the demon, but in the wintertime the reflections off the snow were enough that he was practically blinded when he first opened his eyes. Luci slowly uncurled from his position on the windowsill, stretching out his back. What he was not expecting was to be met with the waiting eyes of Elfo, head tilted slightly as he watched him.

Luci stifled a strangled yelp, quickly straightening out. “Okay dude, super creepy.”

“You know you look just like a cat when you sleep,” Elfo told him as the demon hopped off the windowsill. “I half expected you to start purring.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not a cat,” he grumbled, his tail curling in annoyance. “I’m a demon and I’d kill your parents for half a corn chip.”

“But you don’t like corn chips.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it.”

Teasing Elfo was a gamble each time. Sometimes it was as easy as calling him short and sometimes the meaning of his words flew completely over the elf’s head. “You know Elfo, it’s amazing how you’re even less fun in the morning than all the other times of the day. It’s almost impressive in a way.”

“Thank you!”

Luci scampered out the door to go find some drunk scholb to torment, grumbling something about early mornings and annoying elves.

Elfo sighed, flopping back down on the bed. Bean was curled up on her side, having passed out soundly after last night’s shenanigans. Her hair formed a tangled mat around her head and she snored quietly. There had been moments when the sight of her would have set Elfo’s heart aflutter. It still sort of did. Now though, he found his attentions were held by another, more antagonistic force.

“Have you ever been in love?” Elfo asked her distractedly, watching the doorway where Luci’s form had been moments before.

“Mmm… love…” Bean’s murmurings were almost unintelligible, her barely conscious mind slurring her words. “Warm hands… why yes I will join you in your chambers tonight…”

“Like, genuine love,” Elfo continued, oblivious to the fact that Bean was clearly not listening. “Love where you would do anything just to get them to notice you?”

“Do anything…” Bean snorted, pulling her pillow in close so that she was practically straddling the material. “You can do whatever you want to me…”

“But the thing is, the person in question’s not good for you. Like, objectively speaking, just a terrible influence and not a good person to boot. Yet all the same you can’t help falling for their infuriating charms.”

“Boots…” Bean muttered, finding herself more and more awake with every second. “Am I wearing boots in bed?” She kicked them off, groaning as she sat up.

Elfo’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh my goodness. I’m in love with Luci.”

“What?”

Elfo slid off the bed, pressing his hands to the side of his head. “I can’t believe I never realized it before. I just assumed those fluttery feelings in my stomach were hatred, but then I realized they were the same feelings I used to get when I looked at you and I just—”

“Hold up a second,” Bean interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. This was not the kind of news you wanted sprung on you while dealing with a hangover. “You’re in love with Luci? Luci? The demon? My demon? In love?”

“I think so!” Elfo gnawed on his lip anxiously, not interpreting Bean’s distress. “I mean, now that I think about it, the signs are pretty obvious. I love hanging out with him, whenever he makes fun of me I get all hot and bothered, and sometimes when I look at him I find myself thinking he’s… cute? Like, these aren’t friend feelings, are they?”

“How long have you been in love with Luci?” Bean exclaimed, lost and bewildered at the turn the conversation was taking. “How did I miss this? And why Luci? And why you?”

“I don’t know, a couple months now,” Elfo said in answer to her first question. “At least I think so. It’s hard to pin down. I mean, I’ve always sort of felt this way, if I really track it back, but it’s only recently that I started to be fully aware of it.”

“Am I losing my touch?” Bean gasped. “My best friends were in love and I never realized. I can’t believe it.” She grabbed Elfo’s arm, momentarily pulling him out of his funk and forcing him to look at her. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Elfo shrugged uncomfortably, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I don’t know… I was thinking I would just pine endlessly now that I know how I feel and prolong the inevitable rejection.”

“No, no, no!” It was possibly due to the seven beers she had drunk last night, but Bean found herself weirdly invested in this newfound realization of Elfo’s. She had always found it difficult to navigate her own love life so focusing on someone else’s was a welcome distraction. “You have to tell him.”

Elfo snorted, a derisive noise that shot down any possibility of acceptance. “Please. There is no way that he feels the same way. Luci’s a demon. I’m… well, me. It wouldn’t work.”

Bean folded her legs under her, gripping her hands in concentration. “There’s got to be something…” She racked her brain, digging through her hangover for ideas. After a couple minutes of her doing this and Elfo waiting unimpressed, her eyes shot open with excitement. “I got it! Mistletoe!”

“What?” Elfo frowned. “You want me to grow mistletoe?”

“No stupid.” She stood up, pacing back and forth. “You find a way to get both you and Luci under the mistletoe at the same time, and then once you’ve kissed him you can confess your undying love for him. It’ll be perfect. It always works in those books Derek is constantly reading. I only know because sometimes I use the pages to smoke drugs and accidentally catch glimpses of the words.”

“I don’t know…” Elfo said skeptically. “Who’s to say Luci will even follow the rules of mistletoe? He doesn’t seem like the rule-following type.”

Bean waved a hand, dismissing the idea before it could even take form. “He will.”

“How do you know?”

Bean didn’t answer and Elfo reluctantly followed her as she continued to go through several ideas for their plan.

A day later, Elfo sat at the table in the grand hall with a glass of beer and a stomach full of nerves. Operation Luci-Under-The-Mistletoe was ago, or LUTM as Bean has so affectionately named it. Above him was a mistletoe tied to the rafters. The beer had been Bean’s suggestion, the idea being that Luci would be unable to resist the alcohol and would be forced to sit next to him.

He had been waiting there for nearly fifteen minutes before Luci finally wandered back into the castle. He slipped in through the crack in the doorway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Elfo nervously gripping a glass of shoddy beer. “Oh. Elfo. Hey.”

“Luci!” Elfo exclaimed a bit too loudly. Now that he had named his feelings he found it harder to be around the demon without being awkward. Luci raised an eyebrow and he flushed. “Hey there... bud… how’s your day been?”

“Great. Set two children on fire in front of their parents.” Luci crawled onto the bench, far enough away that he wasn’t technically under the mistletoe. “They screamed for a long time. A couple of times the fire went out and I had to re-light it which was troublesome, but such is the sacrifices I make for art.”

“Geez,” Elfo muttered, queasy just at the thought of it. Of all the people he had to fall for, it had to be a demon. “That sounds… terrible.”

“It was,” Luci agreed dreamily.

“Hey,” Elfo said casually, twisting the bottle on the table in what he hoped was an inconspicuous motion. “I was just getting ready to down a couple of cold ones if you wanted to maybe join me?” He threw in the maybe despite himself, nerves getting the best of him.

Luci examined the cracked bottle containing clearly not cold beer. “Yeah… so, as fun as that sounds, I’m actually good. I was getting ready to go get baked and yell at people in the streets, though, if you wanted to come with me?”

“Sure,” Elfo agreed miserably, setting the bottle back down a little too hard on the table. Plan #1 was a bust, which meant it was back to the drawing board for him.

A couple days later and Elfo sat loosely tied to the throne with a mistletoe hung directly above him, waiting for Luci to come back from breakfast. The plan now was that Luci would try to help him out and as soon as he was close enough Elfo would slip the knots and kiss him. Elfo was skeptical about the plan as it required Luci wanting to help anyone, but Bean was confident in this one so he went with it. He twisted against the chair, the hard wood digging into his back uncomfortably.

Luci’s amusement when he finally found him was unending and Elfo almost wanted to die right then and there, mistletoe be damned.

“Wow,” Luci whistled appreciatively, circling him. “Just wow. Who did you say did this to you again?”

“The kids from the village,” Elfo muttered under his breath, repeating the words Bean had instructed him to say. It was all the more embarrassing due to the plausibility of the situation. “Could you possibly help me out of here?”

“And you’re really stuck?” Luci clarified, just standing there and, more importantly, not helping him. “Like, you can’t get out at all?”

“No,” Elfo assured him in what he hoped was a convincing lie.

Luci examined him for a moment longer, clearly deciding the truth of the statement. Finally he shrugged, walking towards the still open door.

“W-Wait!” Elfo cried out in a panic, wanting to rush after him but not wanting to give away the fact that he wasn’t really stuck. “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to help me?”

“It seems like you’re really stuck in there,” Luci said over his shoulder, strolling out the doorway. “Why would I ruin such a perfect oppurtunity?”

Seconds later he was gone and Elfo slumped against the rope, defeated yet again.

His third try was a last-ditch attempt and one that he wasn’t proud of by any definition of the word. Tied to the front of his hat was a sprig of mistletoe, making it impossible for anyone to get close to him without being in range of the plant. It was obvious and mortifying if anyone saw him—which, if Bean’s plan was to work, they would have to. Specifically Luci.

Luci took one look at him and burst into laughter, doubling over in amusement. Elfo blushed furiously, bristling at the reaction. “Oh my god, Elfo, man, this is just so desperate. What lady is ever going to want to kiss you with that on your head?”

Elfo didn’t even bother to come up with a response, ripping the hat off and throwing it to the ground. He stormed off, Luci’s laughter echoing down the halls after him.

Eventually, Elfo was forced to resign himself to the facts. Luci didn’t want to kiss him; that much was obvious. And no amount of tricks, clever ploys, or traditional plants were going to change that. The sooner he allowed himself to accept that, the sooner he could get over the stinging phase of rejection.

He sat curled up in the windowsill of Bean’s room, the place where this whole stupid charade had begun. His knees were pulled up to his chest and in one hand he held a piece of mistletoe, glaring at it with as much hatred as he could muster.

“Stupid plant,” he muttered angrily, crushing it between his fingers. “Stupid Bean, stupid Luci, stupid feelings—”

“Are you talking to yourself again?”

He jumped at the sound of Luci’s voice. He shoved the mistletoe behind him quickly; there was no way he would be able to deal with the embarrassment of Luci catching him holding it.

“No,” he protested, wishing for once that Luci would just go away. As always, Luci ignored his wishes and hopped up on the windowsill opposite him, examining him curiously. “Why are you here? Don’t you have more important things to be doing?”

“Not really. I just finished poisoning the local drinking water, so my schedule’s clear for the next couple hours.” Luci watched him for a moment before his tail snapped out suddenly and snatched the mistletoe from behind Elfo’s back. Elfo gasped, shooting out a hand to retrieve it but it was already too late. Luci smiled, holding up the mistletoe in both their line of sight. “Thinking of kissing someone, huh?”

“I…” Elfo struggled to come up with a convincing story, but between all the plans he and Bean had come up with lately, not to mention his inherently guilty conscious, he found himself all out of lies. “I was, yeah. But they don’t want to kiss me back.”

“How do you know that? Did they tell you?”

“No,” Elfo admitted. “But they don’t have to. They’re super cool and mysterious and I’m… you know.”

“Elfo?”

“Exactly.”

His head drooped in misery. A couple seconds later, however, he felt a soft hand grip his chin and tilt it upwards. He found Luci standing next to him, the mistletoe held squarely over them by his tail. Elfo gaped at the sight, glancing between it and Luci’s face. “But—I thought—”

“I knew what you were trying to do,” Luci admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve known since the beginning. I just thought I shouldn’t give the win to you that easy. And I have to say, it was fun messing with you. Sorry about that. by the way. Bad habits, demon and all that.”

“So then you…” Elfo struggled to deal with the information he was being handed. “You knew that I liked you and you weren’t disgusted?”

“Of course not,” Luci snorted. “Do you know how many things I’ve been with on this planet? You’re hardly the most revolting thing.”

“Thanks,” Elfo said dryly.

“You know what I mean.”

“So you, too…?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Luci snapped, and if Elfo didn’t know better he could have sworn he spotted a faint blush on the demon’s cheeks. He wiggled the mistletoe then, a mischievous look entering his eyes. “Now, I believe I owe you something?”

Kissing Luci was never something Elfo would imagine in even his wildest of dreams, but life, as he quickly found out, was full of surprises. Normally, Elfo was not that fond of surprises, but in this case he decided to make an exception.

#disenchantment #elfo #luci #bean #elfo x luci #twelve days of ficmas #fanfiction

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mas-o-kissed · 4 years

Text

Discovered (Short Hypnosis Story)

A short little hypnosis story that I ended up writing when I couldn’t sleep. I’ve done a lot of writing, but this was my first time attempting to write anything like this. There is some s*exual content, but it’s not very explicit.

WARNING for initial nonconsent, some light humiliation, and forcefulness. Ends nice and happy.

❤️

I was awakened by the sound of my bedroom door opening.

“Hey, you awake yet?”

It was my boyfriend, Ian’s voice. I rubbed my eyes in a daze. “What time is it?”

“Eleven. You’re still asleep? For real?”

I always felt groggy in the morning after listening to hypnosis, but I’d never forgotten to set an alarm. As he approached my bed, the realization dawned on me and I felt a sudden surge of panic.

“Where’s my phone?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious, but before I spotted it, he reached down over the side of my bed, my earbuds still dangling from the headphone jack.

The page with the hypnosis file I had fallen asleep listening to was still open.

“What’s this?” Ian asked with a wry smile, and I snatched the phone from his hand.

“Nothing,” I said, scrambling for a lie that could possibly explain why the words Submissive Fantasy Part 3 were displayed on my screen. I couldn’t think of anything. Instead, I mumbled, “Don’t you knock?”

I felt my cheeks get hot as my stomach turned.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he put a hand on my shoulder and I looked away, ashamed.

I have one vice. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t even like to go to parties. I’d never told anyone. My desire to be controlled through hypnosis was far too embarrassing to share, even with partners I’d had in the past. It was a small, humiliating secret, just for me.

And now I was sure that my boyfriend knew all about it.

“You’re so innocent,” I could hear amusement creeping into his voice and my cheeks grew hot again. “I never would have figured you were into stuff like this.”

“I’m not...” I mumbled, weakly, “I was curious, that’s all. I-I didn’t listen...”

“Leo,” he interrupted my poor excuses, “you’re a terrible liar.”

“I have to get ready,” I started to get up off the bed, but he pulled me back down. I became acutely aware of how much stronger he was than me.

“I get that you’re embarrassed but... you don’t have to be.”

There was no way this was happening. There was a brief moment of silence between us as I searched my brain for something to say that would make him forget this. Instead, he said, “What if I were to pick out the next file for you?”

“W-what?!”

“You heard me,” he said softly. I was certain he was teasing me. I tried to get off the bed again but he held me back, gentle and firm. “I want to pick the next one you listen to. I want to see what it does to you.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him pull my black work tie from where it had been hanging over my headboard.

“I bet you make a really cute face when you go into trance.”

“I don’t,” I muttered. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help but reflexively fight against whatever he said. “I can’t go into t-trance. It doesn’t work on me.”

He laughed as he pushed me down into my back, pinning my arms up above my head.

“Sure it doesn’t. You won’t mind if I satisfy my curiosity then, will you?”

He began wrapping my tie around my wrists. I struggled against him, trying in vain to move away, but there was nothing I could do to stop him from tying my wrists above my head, securely fastening them to the headboard. I was completely helpless.

“Let me go!” I shouted at him, but even as I thrashed on the bed I could feel myself getting turned on by my inability to break free, by his power over me.

“We’re not done yet,” he said, opening up my drawer and pulling out a scarf. I tried to pull my legs away, but as he bound them together I knew it was useless to fight. Even though I’d had partners in the past, I’d always been too shy to ask them to bind me. An overwhelming feeling of submission rose up inside of me. I was utterly humiliated, pathetically tied to my own bed, and what made it all worse was that I liked it.

“There. Safe and secure,” he said, gently running a hand up my body, from my thigh up to my neck. I shivered, suppressing a moan. My sex was already throbbing with arousal. He began brushing his hand softly across my inner thigh, back and forth in methodical motions. Pressing down. Teasing. Getting so close to touching my sensitive sex, but never quite reaching it. It turned me on so much I could barely stand it.

“S-s-stop it,” I stuttered out, as my own hips betrayed me, drawing upwards in search of friction. I whimpered as I tried and failed to stop myself from thrusting upwards. My breath quickened with the jerking motions of my body.

“Awww,” he teased, “look at you, pathetically bucking the air. It took so little to get you like this.” He removed his hand from my thigh, to my relief. I took a sharp breath and looked up at the bindings around my wrists, tugging at them.

He held my chin, forcing me to look up at him as he continued, “So helpless...” He ran his thumb over my lips, “I love seeing you like this.”

He picked up my phone, scrolling through the website. The expression on his face was my only hint as to what he had in store for me, and it revealed very little.

“Please...” I began, resolved to my predicament, “don’t pick something too intense. Please don’t embarrass me more.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he kissed my forehead. Despite myself, I felt so safe under his control, “Don’t be afraid.” He placed an earbud in my ear. “I just want to have some fun with you.” He placed the other earbud in. For a brief moment, I saw the title Silent Servant appear on the phone screen, before he tucked it out of my view. My heartbeat pounded in my chest, quickening as I felt his hand brush my hair off my forehead. “Just relax.”

He hit play.

As the words began through my earbuds, the soothing and familiar voice of the hypnotist flowed into my brain, and my thoughts began to slow. My body went limp. My mind was accustomed to going under for this voice from the many times I’d listened to the files on my own. I didn’t stand a chance. I watched Ian’s face as the voice counted down from ten to zero.

And then my mind went blank.

+++

“Welcome back,” Ian smiled, leaning over me. I blinked and tried to stretch my body, taking a moment to recall that I was bound in place.

“... l... ah...” When I opened my mouth to speak, it felt as though my tongue was thick and heavy. I tried to form words, but all that would come out was incomprehensible gibberish.

“I thought you said you couldn’t be hypnotized,” he mused. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Aa... ah!”

“You can’t speak without permission, hon.”

I grumbled. I felt hot tears of embarrassment welling up in my eyes as he began to untie me. I rubbed my freed wrists, staring daggers as he untied my legs.

“What are you looking at me like that for? It wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t enjoy it.”

I wanted to tell him it was different. That he was taking advantage of a fetish that I couldn’t control. That while some part of me had very much wanted it, had very much enjoyed it, the rational part of me would never have agreed to this. Instead, my mouth said, “Aaa... ah... mmfmm...” as I struggled to wrap my tongue around a word, any word that would get my point across. I could tell he enjoyed my building frustration.

“That file wasn’t just for speech restriction. You should also find yourself completely unable to disobey me,” he said, an evil look flashing in his eye. “You have to tell me the truth.”

I swallowed.

“If you didn’t like this, if you want to forget it ever happened, and for me to apologize for doing this to you, tell me. I’ll remove all the effects of the hypnosis, and I’ll never bring it up again. You’ll be able to speak coherently and tell me exactly this.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued.

“If you enjoy being controlled by me, if you want me to play with your mind as I see fit, say ‘yes, sir.’” He grinned and looked at me, “I think you would make an excellent servant.”

I knew the words that were threatening to escape my lips, and I clasped my hands over my mouth.

“Leo,” he repeated, “tell me the truth.”

“Yes, sir!” I blurted out. There was no denying it anymore. Despite my shame, I wanted this so badly that my feelings of desire threatened to overwhelm every part of me that held back. I looked down, half hiding behind my bedsheets.

“Very good,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “That’s enough for today. You’ve been a very good boy.”

My face flushed, but along with it came a warm sense of comfort as he held me tight.

“A...mmm... ah...”

“I give you permission to speak.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#hypnosis #hypnokink #hypnosis story #my writing

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