#like i told my friend that you could replace the setting with a haunted house or a deep sea cult and fundamentally you would have the same | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochinek0 · 1 year

Text

Agreste-Wayne 18

Paris was understandably in shock over Gabriel's former model and her behavior. There had been some fans who had been saddened to see her replaced. Her fandom quickly began to diminish when others began to link the blog to her fan sites. It was worse when the creator of the blog, Adrien Agreste, and Marinette Wayne tore into her on television. Their sadness and faith had turned to rage and hatred. They ripped her posters off the walls, deleted fan pages, they unfavorited and unsubscribed. They realized they had stood up for someone that had hurt the Gabriel brand. Almost immediately, Juleka's fans began to grow in numbers.

Not soon after the broadcast, Lila began to feel the weight of what she had done. Karma had finally come back to haunt her. People recognized her from her years as being a Gabriel model. Suddenly, her once peaceful job had become a war zone. The customers she served either asked for another table or would ignore her until they were ready to speak to her. People began to leave STALKER ALERT as a tip on her receipts, instead of money. It was becoming harder for her to save up. Her boss merely laughed off her concerns when she said she was being harassed by the customers. He said it was her own fault. She complained she wanted it to stop or she would quit.

"Then quit." he stated, "I'm not going to fire you. You're bringing in more customers. They all want to see the model that fell from grace; the model who was really a devil in disguise."

To make matters worse, her mother had called her, screaming about the fact that she had become a joke at work.

"Everyone at work is asking why I haven't had you institutionalized! They are calling me an unfit mother and my job is being called into question! Why did you lie to me? What did I ever do to you to make you think you had to lie so much to get attention? From here on out, don't call me! You're twenty-five years old; you're an adult. You can handle your own problems!"

Lila couldn't stand it anymore. She could hear the whispers behind her back. She couldn't help but wonder if this what she had put Marinette through during school. She went into a beauty supply store and bought hair dye. Lila bleached her hair and looked at the money she had saved up. She had 5000 euros.

'Adrien doesn't want you. He told everyone on TV how he hated you. He wants to put a restraining order on us. He told everyone we were a liar! No one trusts us. No one wants to help us. Not Mama, not the people at the café, not even your friends.'

Before she could change her mind, she looked up housing in Italy and put a down payment on a small studio in Milan for 700 a month. She would have no privacy, but it was better then being in Paris. She deleted everything she had on Gotham and set up a one way ticket for Milan in three days. Lila braided her hair and cut her hair under the hair tie; her hair was now shoulder length. She looked at the mirror and shut her eyes, feeling the tears run down her cheeks. She grabbed the midnight black dye and soaked her hair.

Lila looked in the mirror and whispered, "It will be okay. We can change our name in Italy and it will be like none of this ever happened."

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @thepaceperson

AGRESTE-WAYNE TAG LIST: @danielslilangel @pawsitivelymiraculous @crystalangelluna @tomanyfandomsonmymind @sassakitty @ichigorose @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#daminette #mochinek0 #dc x mlb #lila rossi #lila salt #lila gets exposed #adrien agreste

69 notes · View notes

cittykatsstuff · 2 years

Text

First Time Writing Angst

He looked into her eyes. Cold. Lifeless. Numb. “Okay, come on let’s sober you up,” Steve said. His voice broke and a lump formed in his throat. His eyes stung from the tears he was fighting back.

“No!” She resisted. “No, no, no! Let me go!” Her words were all slurred and messy. Steve couldn’t get any more words out as he pulled her with all his might to the bathroom. He picked her up, set her in the bathtub, and turned on a cold shower. “What the hell!” She screamed.

“It’s for your own good.” Steve’s voice remained calm even though his eyes were filled with tears. He stood up, walked into her room, and grabbed her a change of clothes. “Here, get changed while I make you some dinner.” She didn’t speak. Her eyes met his for only a second before she looked away. Steve swallowed hard before leaving her in the bathroom. About ten minutes later Steve re-entered her bedroom with some scrambled eggs and a piece of toast that was perfectly cut into triangles. “Hey, I couldn’t find much to cook so I’m sorry It’s kinda breakfasty.” He stifled a small laugh before setting the plate on her desk. Steve raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened, and she walked out, stumbling a little. “Whoa, I’ve got you,” Steve said wrapping her arm around his shoulders. He carefully set her back on her bed before handing her the food he had made. She held the plate and stared at it without moving. After a couple of minutes, Steve sat next to her. “You need to eat something. It’s obvious you haven’t eaten much since the accident.” Despite his desperation, Steve’s voice remained calm. She put the plate down in front of her and she continued to just stare at it. The desperation started to become clear in his voice now, “Pease eat. You’re killing yourself!”

“That’s the point!” She finally blurted out still refusing to look at him. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“What?” Steve’s voice was almost completely silent. “Look I-I know it’s been hard and I can’t even imagine…”

Suddenly her voice filled the entire house, “I see Eddie everywhere, in everything I do, everything I touch. He haunts me constantly. All I hear is his voice echoing through my mind! It’s like he’s punishing me for never telling him that I was in love with him!” She paused for a second, “I never told him.” Her voice shrunk to a whisper as she finally looked up at Steve. The cold lifeless eyes that once inhabited her body now were replaced with immense pain and tears.

Steve pulled her close. “He knew.”

“What?”

“He knew that you loved him,” Steve whispered. No matter how hard she tried no words would come out. All she could do was cry. “And he loved you too.” After a while, she pulled away from Steve and picked up her plate. She stared at it for another minute before picking up her fork and finally eating. Steve smiled a little. Once again the room was silent.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered fighting back tears again.

“For what?” She said softly.

“I’m supposed to be your best friend and I let you down.” He said still trying to hold back tears. She tried to interject but he just kept rambling. “ I wasn’t there for you when Eddie died. I was so focused on Dustin. Make sure Dustin is okay. Remember to check on Dustin, How can I help Dustin? I kept telling myself you were okay, you are strong. To tell you the truth I think I was just scared. Scared to find out you were hurting. Scared to see you in pain. I abandoned you when you needed me the most. How can you even look at me?”

She finally locked eyes with him again only to see tears streaming down his face. She pulled him close, “It’s okay Steve, I forgive you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Steve sobbed, “You’re still half drunk.”

“But I’m thinking clearer than I have since Eddie died.” She responded.

“I’m going to make it up to you.” Steve said wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you and everything will be okay again.” She hugged Steve again. “No resisting? No, I can take care of myself speech?” Steve questioned.

“Not this time Harrington.” She smiled.

“I’ll come to check on you after work okay?” Steve smiled softly.

“Okay.” She replied. Steve kissed her forehead and walked out of her room.

“I’m so proud of you my love.” A familiar voice said. Her head shot up to see Eddie standing in the doorway. Tears flooded her eyes.

“I love you Eds.” She sobbed.

“I love you too princess,” Eddie smirked. She stood up and reached for him as he faded into dust. She sighed and smiled slightly as her tears rolled down her face. “I miss you.”

#stranger things #writing #stranger things s4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson #steve harrington #fanfic

7 notes · View notes

soupbabe · 3 years

Note

Could I get the Bucci gang and Diavolo with a ghost sibling? (like the one you did with Dio and the Crusaders) I really appreciate your writing and you've inspired me to try to write my own reader stories sometime!

Ghost Sibling HCs: Bucci Gang Edition! (+ Diavolo)

Oh my god that's so nice of you to say!! I think it's so cool that I actually inspired someone!! Ily so much anon!! <3 My only impression of Diavolo just has been his fight w Bruno, so I just wiki'd everything for him. So I apologise if he's not entirely in character!! Also, I genuinely had nothing for Abbacchio so he's not in this one. I really hope you don't mind

Warnings!: Goes into how reader died, Spoilers for Part 5, and Mentions of abuse from Giorno's part! Please stay safe !

Bruno Bucciarati

You were an older sibling of Bruno and you also stuck around with your father when the divorce came along

You commonly worked along with your father and ended up getting murdered when the gangsters infiltrated the boat

While your father was able to survive, you died at the scene. Your soul set to haunt the surrounding dock

Although it was tricky trying to see you due to the lingering fear of potential gangsters, Bruno always managed to find a way to visit you

It was hard for the younger Bucciarati, he cared about you as much as he did his father

Almost every visit was paired with a somber undertone, no matter how normal you tried to make it

But you were proud of Bruno and the man he's become today and you two still keep in touch

I do believe that as he gets older, he'd look at this place with a bit more fondness. Replacing the tragic memory of you and your father with all the times you tried to be there for him

When he became Capo, Bruno made certain to keep tabs on the small fishing village, making sure your resting place is in pristine condition

He's well aware that you might not get to pass on and he just wants to do what can to get you the best

Giorno Giovanna

You were Giorno's older step-sibling, having there be a 5-8 year age difference between the two of you

You were well aware of your father's abuse and did what you could to protect your little brother

Of course, your father didn't take too kindly to your behavior and it only made your punishments worse

One night, your father took out most of his anger onto you and it ended up killing you

Your soul latched onto Giorno, wanting to keep on protecting him even in death

You were there for him through everything and you were happy that he was able to find better family through the gang

And even in the gang, you were able to find your own peace in a way

(mostly) everyone welcomed you with open arms and it was a nice change of pace from talking to only Giorno for the past 10 or so years

Pannacotta Fugo

You were an older sibling, praised by your parents and used as an example for Fugo to follow

He never really resented you because of it though. You were helpful when he had the toughest lessons and treated him with the care that your parents never gave

I can imagine Fugo accidentally killing you during one of his rages, you got too close and he lashed out at you

As if he wasn't freaked out and panicked over your murder, seeing your ghost wasn't any better

He ignored any note of your presence, leaving it up to some hallucination rather than a ghost of all things

It took him a while to actually accept the fact that you're still with him and it was really awkward for a while

It made his guilt about the situation worse tbh, like it's been too long that he can't really apologize for what he did to you

And I don't imagine you being too happy either. Spending your eternity with your murderer and have him deny your existence for a couple of months does hurt

It's just one of those cases where your relationship couldn't be repaired after death, leaving you both to spend each other's company with an awkward weight on each other's shoulders

Both of you were never well taught in emotions so trying to cope with something as strange as this is not likely.

Narancia Ghirga

You were Narancia's twin sibling

you were just as loyal as him so you didn't bat an eye when he proposed that you both take Polpo's test

It's not like he would do it without you anyways, you two were a package deal

What he didn't take in account was you not surviving the stand arrow

It really did break Narancia seeing you dead and then seeing your ghost, looking like nothing happened

I feel like you haunting him furthers his denial of your actual death. That it doesn't actually matter since you're still next to him and able to laugh like nothing happened

It would be a combination of you and Bucciarati to help him with his grief, but he was still joyful to have you around

Even though you couldn't interact much with the physical world, he still invited you to his math lessons with Fugo and treated you as a valid member of the gang

Guido Mista

You were Mista's younger sibling that haunted his apartment

He'll admit that it was a bit freaky dealing with you at first, but he managed to adapt to it pretty quickly

He was able to live his usual carefree lifestyle, the added money from being apart of Passione was used for making the house a bit more comfortable

He felt bad that you couldn't leave and tried to make it more bearable

Plus he did it as an apology for all the times you cleaned up the pigsty that is his room

He also enjoyed that you were also free home security

He's made a couple of enemies in his time and having someone who can't be injured through typical means was helpful

He always enjoyed the occasional stories you told of the intruder's terrified faces at the fact that their guns and knives had no effect on you

But even if you were already dead, he'd ask for the faces of the idiots who disrespected and tried to kill to you.

Just because you're dead doesn't change the fact that you were still his family and he needed to teach those losers a lesson when you can't do it yourself.

Diavolo

Oh my god I'm so sorry for you

Listen, this man was not above attempted murder of his own daughter to hide his identity. You would've been one of his first targets

When he'd see that you never actually died, he would use whatever he had in his arsenal to get rid of you

But of course nothing worked, having to come to terms that you were a ghost

I don't think this could make his paranoia worse because technically you are gone and you can't go outside without him/Doppio, it's just a great inconvenience

He usually acts like you don't exist, yelling at you if you were to interact with the mafia boss

To Doppio you were only known to be a close friend of the boss and nothing else

He would happily chat with you, blissfully unaware that he was talking to a corpse

I think being anywhere near Diavolo in this state is a fate worst than death

Being around such a dark and negative energy already isn't good for the living, imagine how the dead feels

Plus not to mention the rough period of occasional murder attempts, all in new ways for Diavolo to get you gone for once and for all

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #golden wind #golden wind x reader #platonic x reader #platonic headcanons #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccerati #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno giovanna #pannacotta fugo x reader #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #narancia ghirga x reader #guido mista x reader #guido mista #diavolo x reader #jjba diavolo

177 notes · View notes

scrabble--drabbles · 3 years

Text

Soulmark Au - First Words

Pairing: Diluc x gn!reader

Contents/Warnings: Fluff, sfw, reader has a word written on their wrist, reader is not from Monstadt

Word Count: ~1.3k

A/N: I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs! This is my take on the Soulmark- First Words trope. Idk what the "classic" trope is, but 'Setting' explains how it works in this drabble!

Setting: All setting/lore is the same as in game. Only addition is that adults, once all parties are of age, will receive the first words they will hear their soulmate speak on their wrist. Once heard, the words will gently pulse, signifying that they have been spoken.

Background: When the word "No" appeared on your wrist, you thought it a sick joke. Fortunate friends received sentences or information about their pairing, but you? You received no-thing.

Unaccustomed to the stone streets of Monstadt, you rubbernecked around the city, often pausing to admire the architecture or flora before moving on to the next interesting thing. Between your behavior and attire it was clear you were an outsider, garnering you light attention from passerbys. Specifically the attention of a more elaborately dressed man.

Introducing himself as Kaeya, Calvary Captain of the Knight of Favonious, he offered to introduce you to the city. How a captain had that kind of time was beyond you, but he seemed friendly and without ill intent so you accepted. That is how you now found yourself escorted toward a tavern, the Angel's Share, with a freshly borrowed Travel Guide in hand. He had a way with words, convincing you to leave the calm library in exchange for a social hangout, but he assured you the tavern would be just as quiet this time of day leaving you to trust his position before accepting.

Being the local, he easily guided you through the streets, conversation flowing effortlessly through his lips even if you chose to keep your own shut. "Don't tell the owner," he leaned slightly towards you, lowering his voice as he continued, "but the Angel's Share is the best tavern in Monstadt."

In the short time you'd known the man he danced around all things personal. Unsure if he was somehow baiting you on, you hesitantly tested the waters, "If you like their business, you should tell them." Glancing over to him for how our words landed, a flash of something... complicated crossed his face with your query. You could almost read an internal journey warring behind his blanked expression, but just as quickly as he faltered he recovered.

"Well now," He began, facade now revived with a playful grin, "a captain shouldn't play favorites." Winking in your direction, or what you presumed was a wink due to his eyepatch, he pulled away from you. There certainly was more the captain kept hidden away, but with how the city walls began to curve the tavern must be close so you paused any response.

Curiosity kept you quiet as you examined each structure, trying to pick out the Angel's Share instead of prying at your companion. Buildings kept passing by as you scanned for any clues, it wasn't until you nearly reached the last one that you cursed yourself for not noticing sooner, tables and sign neatly out front. But with your destination now discovered, it was time to resume the conversation.

"You said 'don't tell the owner,'" quoting his words back, unsatisfied with his earlier dismissal. "Oh did I?" Kaeya hummed towards you, indifference in his tone but his eye told a different story. The playful twinkle bore into you, silently daring you to press further to see how far you would go. As the captain reached out to the tavern door, holding it open for you to enter first, you accepted his dare and passed through the threshold. Glancing back towards him, mouth ajar and ready to quip back, his attention quickly curved around you towards the tavern interior.

Credit where due the captain had been right, excluding the closing hinges, the only sound inside were your own steps and rustling. For the "best tavern" you were surprised to see no other patrons inside before finally following his eye to reach the subject that diverted his attention. You missed whatever greeting Kaeya called out, focused instead on the man behind the counter and his deepening scowl with each new word the other spoke. Flaming hair swayed as he reflexively began preparing whatever drink had been requested, seemingly using the beverage as a distraction while Kaeya kept speaking.

The longer you observed him, the more questions you gained. Knowing Monstadt housed another tavern, why would Kaeya insist on visiting the one where his presence was met with displeasure? And why did the man serving him glare at each sentence, but soften whenever the other looked away? No answers came and perhaps you'd never receive them, but any current chance of learning was soon lost as Kaeya drew you from your thoughts, "Pardon my manners, (Y/N), would you like something to drink?"

Flicking your eyes back towards him, worried you had been caught staring, a surprised puff of air left your lips, prefacing the gentle "No," that shortly followed after. In truth the breeze had been nice and cool leaving you satisfied for now. With the quiet inside you had no plans to leave soon, giving time to request a beverage later if you grew thirsty, but for now whatever answers watching the two of them would give was your priority.

You returned your eyes to the bar to see if you needed to repeat your answer, expecting a brief acknowledgment or clarification. Instead crimson eyes gawked at yours as the bartender froze, pulling back the pouring bottle for a split second before returning to his ministrations. Declining a drink shouldn't be that odd you thought, but Kaeya once again caught your eye and distracted you as his head eagerly whipped around towards the other man.

Seconds trudged by as the two locked eyes, only the instinctive preparation of Kaeya's drink marked the slow passage of time. Completely unable to read the captain's expressions now that he faced away from you, you relied solely on the other as the two held a conversation through looks alone.

Though neither of them bore an electric vision, the room sparked with sudden tension. Each cock of Kaeya's head was quickly met with a leer in return from the redhead, him eventually raising his brows with stern annoyance. As the scowl returned to the bartender's features he capped the bottle, placing it behind the counter and huffing towards the captain in front of him. It wasn't until the drink clanked against the counter top, droplets leaving the glass due to the force, that the silence finally broke.

"No."

Time moved quickly for you as the bartender spat towards the other. At first nothing changed, your eyes still affixed on the two interacting, but as red eyes locked with yours once more, the gentle pulse of your wrist pulled at you. Lifting any fabric covering the patch of skin, you stared down at the common, useless word, that haunted your life. As the sensation died down and pieces fell together, you gawked at your wrist, missing how the two men had both turned to look at you.

Unfazed with the sharp tone thrown his way, the captain stated "You both had 'No', didn't you?" even though its answer was clear. Flicking your eyes up to meet the captain's frosted one, you instinctively nodded in response, clearing any doubt to what just passed. It wasn't until the captain's eye closed and a smile began to spread across his lips with a chuckle that you looked away. A knot formed inside you as you met deep crimson once more, nervous that somehow you had misunderstood the situation.

Silky laughter filled the room as the captain downed the fresh drink in front of him. Had you been in his shoes you too might have found humor in the situation, the likelihood of sharing the same word, and it being such an annoyingly overused one were slim. Neither of you joined in with his cheer however, instead you stared blankly, processing the predicament neither of you have prepared for.

Drink finished, Kaeya immediately bid farewell, claiming a forgotten meeting he must attend but felt confident with the new guide to replace him. You doubted any truth to the excuse, but were too stunned to snap back before his escape out the door. After a muttered apology for lying, you and your new companion carried along with pleasantries, you forced to provide most of the content. Through the conversation, your mind continued to add questions to the growing mysteries from your first visit to the City of Wind. Maybe one day you would get answers to them all, but for now you received his name, Diluc, and that would be enough.

#scrabble+drabbles #diluc x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc #diluc sfw #soulmate au #diluc x gn!reader #and just in case i wanna be clear #no this doesn't involve kae/////luc at all it's just brotherly care #do i think this is perfect? no #am i still posting it anyway and never looking at it again? absolutely #kaeye would 100% know diluc's word so everyone new he takes to the tavern and asks them a yes or no question #under the guise of being annoying but also he just wants to see his brother happy even if they're tense atm #but anytime diluc sees kaeya and someone new enter the tavern he just d e e p s i g h

225 notes · View notes

lovelyspencers · 3 years

Text

Both Sides Like Chanel

“I see both sides like chanel,

see on both sides like chanel.”

Synopsis: Spencer and fem!Reader have been dating for a while now and there is something that Spencer hasn’t trusted anyone else with that he wants to share with her

Content Warning: mentions of drug addiction, allusions to sex, brief mention of internalized homophobia

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure how tumblr works yet but it is my mission to do something about the lack of bi!Spencer representation

Compared to his colleagues and friends, Spencer was a fairly private person. He liked to keep things to himself because his life centered around repetitious disappointments. So, he was content that his private life was not set on a stage, his misery displayed for everyone to see.

But then he fell in love with you the minute you walked into the bullpen and bumped into him, leaving your belongings all scattered on the marble floor. Spencer was never one for touch but when he took your hand to sweep you off the ground, butterflies filled his stomach like the air on a humid summer’s day.

After a few years of friendship, his adoration for you grew as easily as ivy on an abandoned house and it was on New Year’s Day that the team celebrated in Rossi’s mansion that his slightly intoxicated self decided that he was not able to hold it in any longer.

You had sneaked off to Rossi’s backyard after Garcia had gotten a bit of too affectionate and randomly started kissing everyone.

Both of you were slightly buzzed, your head laid in his lap as he explained the constellations to you. He wished that the sky above you was the only thing that filled his mind, but when he looked at you with your skin slightly flustered from the alcohol and your lips pursed as in deep thought, all that he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you.

It wasn’t the first time, the thought floated around in his mind. It had been so crucial in fact that the thought of your lips softly pressed on his played in his head like a film reel every night, unable to give him the sweet escape of sleep.

So, when the blank sky was filled with multicolored fireworks, the moonlight illuminated the complexion of your face and cheers erupted from the silence surrounding you without a second thought, he leaned in to kiss you.

You tasted like champagne and the strawberry lipstick you obsessively put on whenever you got anxious and to Spencer, he felt as if he had found the missing puzzle piece he’d been seeking for all his life.

And then like they always did, his thoughts began rushing through his mind like cars during rush hour and he instantly pulled back.

You were gonna hate him and then he would lose the only person he trusted with all his being and maybe you’d tell Penelope and everyone would laugh at him for believing that someone as amazing as you would ever-

But before his poisonous thoughts got the best of him, you grabbed the sides of his face and connected your lips with his again, filling the entirety of his body with pure bliss.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you to do that.” Your voice vibrated against his lips and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face in the process.

The two of you could have kissed for only seconds or even hours because as he finally experienced what it felt like to be utterly yours, none of the things surrounding you mattered to him in the slightest.

All that mattered was that his biggest dream of your heart belonging to him entirely finally came true and he had no intention to ever let it go.

But even the most perfect moments couldn’t last forever and in this case, it was disturbed in the figment of the people the two of you considered family.

At first, you both didn't notice the footsteps on the grass, too caught up in trying to pour every stolen glance and hidden adoration in the simplicity of a kiss.

It wasn’t until cheers filled the silence around you that you hesitantly broke apart and were greeted with the sight of the team who all had smirks plastered on their faces.

To his delight, you didn’t entirely pull away from him like he thought you would instead you got off his lap to lazily wrap your arms around his torso. Subconsciously he pressed a kiss to your temple erupting even more amusement from the people watching you.

“About damn time.” Emily was the first to break out of her trance. Soon, congratulations were shared and the team tried to discreetly exchange money since they seemed to have some kind of bet going on. Even Hotch had a rare smile on his face and it was without a doubt the most beautiful start in the new year he could have ever wished for.

“I love you,” you muttered as you hid your face in his chest, and though there was no way the team could have heard what you told him, the smile on his face told them everything they needed to know.

“I love you too.”

He wished more than anything else that your love story could have ended that way and you lived happily ever after but this wasn’t a movie and the truth was that relationships were work. Work he was more than willing to put effort in but work nonetheless.

You loved each other dearly but you weren’t perfect and neither was he. Most of your fights revolved around his fear of vulnerability and even though he spent years building a wall around his heart so no one could ever shatter it again, he loved you far more than his self preservation so he tried his hardest.

And there was one particular thing, he always wanted to tell you or anyone who he felt earned his trust.

Throughout his life, his trust had been broken many times. So without even realizing it, there was a barrier between the two of you that prevented him from loving you to the fullest and he hated it.

But unlike Derek who immediately spread his problems around like it was just some gossip printed on the sixth page or JJ who kept Emily’s well-being to herself despite him coming to cry to her for months, you never betrayed his trust.

Even more so, you didn’t have that look of pity in your eyes that was equally as painful as daggers in his chest when he told you about his drug addiction or the schizophrenia of his mother.

You were easily the person on earth that he trusted the most but that didn’t mean that there weren’t some things that he still kept to himself.

But as he said, he wanted to change that and if one person was deserving of his honesty and vulnerability it was you.

Spencer had told you about his father leaving, the horrors he had to face that still haunted him in his dreams, his kidnapping from Tobias Hankel, and the cruelty of a childhood as a child prodigy.

While what he wanted to tell you wasn’t nearly as heavy it still felt like dead weight continuing to weigh him down.

Every time, he came close to telling you the truth, he got scared like a child in the dark and switched topics to something that didn’t matter at all.

Spencer also knew that you were aware that something was off. Before you started dating ten months ago, you had been best friends for years so he can positively say that you know him better than anybody else.

But today he had a plan.

You had been wanting to watch ‘Love, Simon’ with him for weeks and he had tried to avoid it for obvious reason but today he’d watch it with you and maybe then he’d gain the courage to talk to you.

He was aware of how illogical his fears were, after all, you had always been open about your bisexuality and had seen you beat up homophobes on various occasions (while Hotch hated it, it was on the long list of things that Spencer loved about you).

But he feared that maybe you wouldn’t want to be with someone who liked men and women or maybe that just didn’t fit with the type of man you were looking for or maybe-

Nope, he wasn’t doing this to himself. You were the kindest, most open hearted and loving person he knew and he had told you far more break up worthy thing than his sexuality.

When he had told you about his past drug addiction, you pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and kissed the fainting scars there and helped him get rid of the small stack of Dilaudid that he had kept hidden in his closet without any sign of judgment.

When he had told you about his mother, you pulled his head on your lap and started playing with his hair until the tears on his face dried and pinky promised him that you would stay with him even if he inhabited his mother’s illness because there was nothing that you would ever let drive a wedge between the two of you.

When he had told you about his childhood and confided in you for the relentless bullying he had to endure after you had found an invitation to a high school reunion in his mailbox, you had peppered him with kisses the entire night and showered him with compliments and love.

Not to mention that you convinced him to go to the high school reunion where everyone seemed equally as impressed by the beauty that his girlfriend possessed and the nature of his job. And every time, you sensed that he was uncomfortable you held his hand and wordlessly pulled him away, because you simply understood him like that.

The first night you slept over, he was more anxious over you sleeping next to him than the actual act of having sex with you (which said a lot because in a moment of desperation he had even asked Derek for sex advice) because he knew that the nightmares would jolt him awake again.

But it was so easy to be with you and when he pulled your body into his and showed you just how much he loved you in the most intimate act there was, all worries (and crappy advice that Derek had given him) left his mind and were quickly replaced by pure bliss and escasty.

And when he woke up shaking because some monsters don’t stay hidden in the dark, you were right there to comfort him until he was able to safely fall asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist.

Spencer was jolted back to reality when there was a knock on his door and he immediately wrapped you in a bone crushing hug before pouring all his worries and love into a kiss.

“We literally saw each other at work today. Did you really miss me that much already?” Your laughter that had become Spencer’s favorite sound ever since the first time he heard it filled the room, and he had to fight the urge to drop his plans and just worship you and your body for the entirety of the evening instead.

No, he was a man on a mission and he had repressed this conversation for way too long.

“I always miss you.”

And it was true, embarrassingly so. When you were on a case, Hotch decided against giving the two of you a shared hotel room, and every time, he had to fall asleep without your body heat next to him he felt as if there was some part of himself missing.

You gave him a peck on the cheek before you intertwined your fingers with Spencer’s and lead him to his couch where you rather ungracefully plumped down.

He joined you and your head immediately landed on his lap as a silent invitation for him to play with your hair which he happily obliged to.

“Can we watch ‘Love, Simon’ today?”

“Yes! I’ve only been begging you to watch it for years,” you laughed while grabbing the hand that wasn’t massaging your temple and holding it in yours.

He laughed too but it was filled with anxiety and you heard it because of course you did. Others might no be able to make out when he was uncomfortable but you always knew when to press him and when to leave him alone.

“We don’t have to watch that movie if you really don’t want to, babe,” you said as you propped yourself up to sit next to him again, all while never letting go of his hand.

“It’s not that. I just-”

Well, it’s now or never.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurted out, surprising himself with the sudden statement, and when he hesitantly locked eyes with yours there was none of the judgment or disgust he feared.

There was just love and understanding like there always was.

You were just about to say something before he gave you a look that clearly signaled to just let him talk for a bit and you answered the silent request with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“I don’t know, I just used to have this crush on a boy when I was younger and I was confused because I only ever saw heterosexual couples, you know?” You nodded and that reassuring smile on your face never seemed to falter even a little bit, you looked almost proud of him.

“And then I got older and I started liking women too and I was even more confused because like who exactly do I like now?”

Sometimes during meetings in the briefing room or on the jet, you randomly held hands and squeezed them three time as a reminder that you loved each other without having to actually say it and that’s what you did during the brief amount of silence.

“When I was in high school liking boys was always associated with something bad so I just assumed that it was bad and tried my hardest to just suppress it.”

Spencer squeezed your hand three times too and took a deep breath. Seemed that even a genius like him could miscalculate and in this case it was the toll this secret had on him.

“But then I got older and realized that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to the same sex, and so I kind of accepted it even though I still had no idea what my sexuality was. It was just one of those I’ll deal with it later type of things.”

When he looked into your eyes again, you looked at him with so much tenderness that he felt as if his heart might burst out of his chest, even if that was biologically impossible.

“I had a boyfriend when I was in college, his name was Ethan and I loved him but it just didn’t work out. I never told anyone because I was afraid I think?”

He remembered the time of sneaking around and lying to his mother when she spotted a hickey on his neck during one of her visits, the frustration because all he wanted was to show the world the love they shared like every other ordinary couple.

But he also remembered the clandestine meetings, muttered I love you’s that were for no one else to hear and the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

“And then I was confused again because I still liked women too and then I met you and I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you honestly and then I thought that maybe it was just like a non-sexual thing but I am sexually attracted to you, I mean we have sex. I like having sex with you!”

You chuckled but it was not out of malice or disgust it was just there, floating in the air filling his body with a warmth that not even his thickest sweater could provide.

“Baby, breathe. It’s just me.”

You brought his knuckles up to your mouth to press a kiss to each of them and that simple gesture managed to calm Spencer’s nerve immensely.

“You were so open with your sexuality and I guess it just kind of made sense? And I know that some women have problems with men who like men and maybe you’re disgusted with me because I used to be with a man and I’m like not the manliest man and and sometimes I think about painting my nails because it seems kind of fun and-”

The thing about Spencer’s rambling was that he couldn’t stop. He wanted to especially when he saw the annoyance on everyone’s faces but you were always there to listen to him, even if you had no idea what he was talking about but as you felt his anxiety worsen with every word that left his lips, you interrupted him for the first time ever.

“I’m not disgusted at all. I love and accept everything about you and that includes your sexuality. Thank you for being open with me, I know hard that can be with for you. I’m very proud of you.”

You emphasized your statement by pulling him in for a kiss and that was the first time that Spencer noticed that he was crying, but you kissed him with all the tenderness in the world, wordlessly wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“You’re the most perfect man I know. I don’t care if you’re not the most manliest man to me you’re perfect and the love of my life,” you whispered against his lips and Spencer could only reply by deepening the kiss and trying to get you as close to him as humanly possible.

There was no rush or expectations, you were kissing as if you had every time in the world and the kiss was a silent promise that you still loved him no matter what.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Spencer could finally breathe. Silence filled the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. You had placed Spencer’s head on your chest and played with his hair while occasionally peppering him with kisses, only a few reassurances and I love you’s accompanying the stirring DVD player.

“Did you mean what you said about wanting to paint your nails?” you asked after a few minutes passed and Spencer had wrapped his arms around your waist as if you were the anchor to a sinking ship.

Spencer chuckled not even remembering what he said during his ramble. “I guess so. Why?”

The thought did cross his mind from time to time, especially when he saw your impressive collection of various nail polish. He never cared much about other’s perception of his masculinity and Spencer realized that his fair of not being manly enough for you was nothing but utterly stupid.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shyly nodded and a smile filled your face as you took his hand to examine it, probably debating in your head which colour would fit him most.

And as you left the room to search for the most beautiful purple you could find, Spencer sat in the living room, happiness spreading through every fiber of his being because for the first time he knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved.

Both of you weren’t perfect but there were no more secrets left lurking in the shadows and he knew that as long as you wanted him, he’d always be yours.

You were the first person to truly accept and love him. All of him, and he never wanted to lose that.

As he sat in the living room, you sitting on his lap and looked at your fingers as you painted his in a dark shade of purple, he decided that it wouldn’t be long until the most beautiful ring he could find would adorn your ring finger.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #my writing #mgg fic #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabbles #spencer reid one shots #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #bisexual spencer reid

375 notes · View notes

obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts · 3 years

Note

hey i hope you're doing well!! i was wondering if i could request a oneshot that kinda diverges from canon ? so basically mc is given the chance to go back to the human world (permanently) or stay in devildom w the brothers. so everyone literally expects for them to stay bcs they really "happy" with the brothers + the (un)dateables,, but surprise:: theyre fucking ecstatic to go back to the human world !!!! and they re all like "why mc dont u love us 🥺" and mc just goes full rant about every shitty thing that happened to them in devildom: belphie killing them, brothers treating her as lilith's replacement, dangerous shit 😌😌😌😌 tHIS IS SO LONG N SPECIFIC OMG IM SORRY

Oo. Yes. This is it. I remember always choosing the "Yeah fuck you guys I wanna go home," choices lmao. There's so much I personally would say to them if put in that situation. One would be what the fuck.

This takes place after Belphegor kills you, but before you go home. The undatebles aren't really included because none of them really fit in with the scene I'm painting.

Also! To my followers, I'm thinking of opening a patreon? Idk if anyone would use it or not. It's just that I am trying to make money, and since I can't work consistently, this might be my best shot for now. It's just a thought! I won't do it if you guys think it's stupid. Thanks babes 💞

It was an offer from Diavolo that started all this.

After Belphegor had lashed out you'd taken to staying away from any of the brothers. You'd never totally felt safe around the demons. They are demons after all, but you trusted that someone would always be there to protect you. That was what you were told at least. It worked in many circumstances, but not when you needed it most. Not when you actually died.

You were miserable. Everyone could tell just by the way you acted. A frown was on your face the majority of the time, you were always on guard around any demons, and you spent the majority of your nights at purgatory hall for some reason or another.

It hurt them to see you so terrified of their presence. Any little fight they had now flashed like a warning sign in your mind, alerting you to the danger of meddling in demon affairs. You'd leave, and they'd become discouraged, only realizing how empty everything felt with you gone. They try to make it up to you, try to keep away from their natural tendencies to get a bit rowdy, but nothing works. You're still petrified in their presence.

That's when Diavolo asks you if you want to go home. You're not comfortable here, it's written on your sleeve. It's affecting your mental health, and despite how much it hurts to send someone so perfect away, he does suggest you leave. To get some help, reconnect with yourself, and possibly forget they ever existed.

You agree.

It's heartbreaking when they find out. Belphegor blames himself, and so does everyone else. They see his mistake as the catalyst for all your changes in personality, when really it was just the final nail in the coffin. After being forced to participate in a stressful school schedule, to deal with men constantly busting into the room despite the lock, being expected to cook for the avatar of Gluttony at least once a week, and to have to find new hiding spots for your precious items to avoid loosing them to Mammon, it was a lot. You were always up, ready for some crazy new happening, never resting even when your body was on the verge of collapse. Your body couldn't handle it anymore, and after Belphegor, you knew you'd never sleep again

You don't say goodbye to them.

Lucifer acts like it doesn't bother him, and he'll act this way until the day he ceases to exist. It does though. He considered you a friend, possibly more, but seeing as you willingly left the realm, it's clear that he misjudged the situation. Satan doesn't receive the news any better. He's a lot more angry then Lucifer, but deep down they both know the eldest is just better at hiding his feelings. The house is a wreck without these two micromanaging every aspect, but neither ever pleaded with you to stay.

They blame Belphegor, but they also blame themselves for not showing you how much you meant to them. Satan knows he could have done more. He should have. In all the books in his library, why is there not one explaining how to fix such a situation? Lucifer almost thinks the same, but he knows he does not need books. He should have noticed your little set backs from the beginning, without the help of a book.

Mammon doesn't completely understand what happened. He's confused, not knowing what he did to make you despise him so. Levi tries to explain, sometimes through teary eyes and anxious hand movements, yet it still never really sinks in. Part of him believes he could have possibly shown his affections more. The other remaining side can't stop chastising himself for not knowing.

The third eldest feels abandoned, and he doesn't know why. You're just a normie. Just some human who shouldn't mean anything to him, but you do. He hates it. Leviathan wants nothing more to forget you, but how can he when your ghost still haunts these halls?

The only one who seems to be able to move on is Asmodeus, but that's far from the truth. He's good at faking emotions. Sure, he's never really had to fake being happy, but all the improv disappointment and whiney attitudes have prepared him for this. Asmo looks fine. No one really worries about him. They should.

Beelzebub and Belphegor have been at odds ever since you left. They both blame the youngest, and whilst Belphie doesn't usually care about his sibling's opinions, knowing Beelzebub is so angry with him hurts. He can't fix it either. You're not coming back, and Beelzebub will always be angry with him for doing something so selfish.

And Beelzebub is angry. He moves out of their shared bedroom and into your room. For weeks he refuses to even speak to Belphie, and after that he only acknowledges him in passing. It's heartbreaking to watch, but Beelzebub doesn't care. You're gone.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me x mc #obey me angst #obey me luficer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan

349 notes · View notes

alltooreid · 3 years

Note

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

164 notes · View notes

starsfic · 3 years

Text

10 Different Happenings: Bai He

Summary: In different worlds, there are different what-ifs.

Here’s ten what-ifs for Lady Bone Demon’s host, known as Bai He.

(Notes: 2 is from @winterpower98′s Swap AU, 4 is @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal’s Swap AU, 5 is a swap au where Bai He is Sun Wukong’s successor, chosen by the staff, and Xiaotian ends up being LBD’s host, and 8 is a Coraline AU inspired by @fre-dream’s art.)

-_-

Bai He staggered out of the driver’s seat. Pigsy probably wouldn’t be too pissed that she drove the food truck into a wall- all he would really care about was if she and Xiaotian were safe...

Oh. Right. Poison.

She scrambled for the back of the truck, ripping the doors open. Bai He had lost the demon a few streets back and hopefully Xiaotian was feeling better?

But, as she scrambled for the seat she had managed to drape him in, she could see he wasn’t feeling better.

He had gone pale, sweat dripping down clammy skin. When Bai He poked his forehead, she was rewarded with a groan and the fact that he probably had a fever. The wound where the giant scorpion had stung him had started to turn an angry red. Behind her, Bai He heard a small chime before there was a chuckle.

“Wow kid. Nice driving, very impressed.”

“What are you still doing here?” She hadn’t seen Macaque since Xiaotian had told him to fuck off and, after learning his true name from Sun Wukong, Bai He had made sure he followed that command. She whirled around and raised a brow. “And what’s with the outfit?”

Macaque was dressed in a purple kimono that looked much more formal then the past hour had been. “Oh, I was attending a party in Tokyo before I was dragged here.” He said casually, plucking at the fabric. “Very nice city. Less parties I'm banned from.” He took a step closer. “You ever been?”

Bai He had never been to Japan.

Right now, Japan was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

Bai He waited until the door closed.

Her smile dropped. She ignored the low growl Ming gave her as Bai He hopped off the couch and headed for the bathroom. The cat knew better at this point. She locked the door behind her, not bothering to turn on the light, before turning to the sink.

For a moment, Bai He examined her reflection in the mirror. A copy of someone, technically their child, being used and used until the original was bored?

Yeah, she got that.

Then she pushed those thoughts away.

Bai He plugged the sink. Then she turned the cold water knob. Freezing cold water poured out. When it was almost overflowing, she turned the water off. She cupped her hands and splashed her face, not even bothering to pause as white filled the water, nor as the mirror mirrored the sink of water, white swirling in the surface. She formed a neutral expression as white swirled and swirled.

Then an older woman spoke from the mirror, voice filled with what seemed to be a mother’s kindness. “Ah, there you are, sweet girl. Have you any news for me?”

Bai He smiled.

“Yes, my lady.”

She collapsed face-first on the ground and immediately wanted to throw up.

Ringing rolled through her ears. But, slowly, it cleared.

To reveal screaming.

Bai He managed to look back. Red Son’s head was thrown back as he screamed, mist curling around him, eyes glowing blue. Shit. But the Lady Bone Demon was distracted...

She managed to get to her feet.

Before she could run, something grabbed her collar. “Now, now, now...” She craned her neck back.

Red Son grinned down at her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Okay, so I might’ve screwed up.”

Over the phone, Tang chuckled. “I was wondering why Macaque is crying in the back of my shop.”

Bai He yelped, tail reacting and smacking some kind of soap off the counter. She winced at the thud, reaching out and grabbing her tail. She honestly had no idea how Xiaotian did this 24/7. “He’s crying?!”

“Uh, no actually. What happened?”

“I...” Bai He stepped forward, back into the mirror’s view. A face, a purple heart shape over her face, framed by white fur, stared back at her. “...Might’ve fucked up.”

“A way out!”

Bai He was so happy! There was light at the end of the tunnel, leading her to escape from the Spider Queen! She was so ready to put this shrinking adventure behind her! She scrambled to her feet, ready to move-

A sob rolled through the tunnel.

She paused.

Another sob made her turn. A few more made Bai He head down, wondering who was crying. Eventually, she poked her head behind a rock. Her jaw dropped at the person, curled up on the floor.

“Xiaotian?!”

Her friend looked up, face streaked with tears. He was dressed in odd blue clothing. But, in her relief, she ignored all that.

She had found her missing friend!

“MONKIE KID!”

Bai He ran from the alley. At least her cat had gotten away, but now it was her turn! Behind her, Long Xiaojiao’s screaming had faded... before being replaced by laughing.

Yeah, that wasn’t making her slow down.

There was no chance.

Lady Bone Demon’s power, married to the power drained from the Monkie Kid, was too much.

Bai He bit her lip and stared at the creaky old house in front of them. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow pass in front of one of the windows. Whimpering a little, she gripped her older brother’s arm.

“Bai Heeee,” Xiaotian groaned, kicking his rainboots in the mud, “There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a stupid old house that nobody sane wants to live in.”

This last part was said a bit louder, so that Dadsy could hear. There was a grunt in response.

“It’s haunted! I know it is!” Bai He whispered as their father went to get the keys from the landlady. “We’re gonna die!”

“Don’t worry, Bai He!” Their father called. “Pigsy and I checked and it’s not haunted.” He passed Xiaotian the key. “Why don’t you two start getting set up?” The two groaned before turning attention to their luggage.

The house was something inherited from Dadsy’s grandma or something, set near a mountain. Bai He wasn’t sure why they moved here. But she thought it might’ve been because of Xiaotian’s birth family. Right now, she was trailing her fingers along the wall in what looked like a parlor, which was just as dusty as the rest of the house. Then her fingers hit something weird- an outline. “Hey Xiaotian, look at this!” she called. “Somebody covered up a door or something!”

Xiaotian dropped the books he had been grabbing. The two siblings shared a look. Without another word, Xiaotian set down the hallway. “Dadsy!” he started calling.

Fascinated by the possibility of a secret passage, Bai He didn’t notice the spider watching her. Nor the monkey outside watching.

“Monkey King!”

Sun Wukong looked up at LBD’s former host. “Thanks kid.” he said, reaching out. He paused when he realized that his golden eyes of truth had activated. He froze when he realized what he was looking at.

Bai He was silver as she reached for him.

“Are you okay?”

Chains looped around her wrists, reaching back to a familiar monkey’s silhouette.

10.

“C’mon.”

Bai He blinked at the words. Sandy smiled up at her. “Let’s go home.” he said. She felt tears prick at her eyes before frantically wiping them away.

She took his hand.

#au #my writing #Bai He #WBS's Host #LMK #Lego Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid

33 notes · View notes

kaito-is-baby · 3 years

Text

The 6 stages of grief

Levi Ackerman x fem! Reader

Denial

I had an idea about Levi facing every stage of grief after losing Isabel and Farlan and he takes it out on the reader, one of the few survey corps soldiers that survives that expedition and Levi blames their death on her. She understands what he is going through and tries to help him get to acceptance. I will split this on 6 parts, one per each stage. This one is the second part .

Part 1 - Part 3

Denial

Heavy feets, heavy clothes soacked in blood, heavy eyes and heavy breathing. There was nothing about living that was not heavy and painful to Levi right now

He had lost his siblings on that expedition fighting for a cause they did not even believe in

Why? Why had he lost them?

His mind was empty, the only sounds he could hear were Isabel and Farlan's screams, their skin tearing apart by that titan hands and their bones being crushed between its teeth

Your voice tried to reach to him many times on the way back home but not even once he did pay attention to you

His eyes riveted on the wagon carrying the expedition's deads

His eyes were on what he could imagine were Farlan and Isabel bodies, or what that titan had left of them

His mind was so fixated on the corpses that he could not think, his brain was just silent, repeating the same scene all over again, his friends death and how he couldn't save them

He finally broke once he entered the common showers

On the underground showering with hundred of strangers would be quite intimidating

He remembered the very first time he and Farlan had to shower on the survey corps, they were vulnerable and uncomfortable, on their past life they would have been killed in that situation

He also remembered Isabel told him that you had managed to get the shower closed for 20 minutes just so she did not have to go through that feeling, he knew that the situation was for sure much worse for a girl and even more in Isabel case, she was alone, he and Farlan had each other at least

That little detail made him see you as someone quite likeable, you really helped and cared for Isabel, but it soon went away

As water tainted of red out of blood felt from Levi's body, his mind flew to every single memorie he had had with his now dead comrades, ignoring the fact that they were no longer there

He went to the dinner hall searching for his friends, his mind was not even trying to assimilate what had happened. As stupid as it sounds he did not realise that none of them were going to show up to the hall

You approached him, two different plates with food, you had prepared one for him too

"Here, I thought you would not want to think too much about what to eat or where, want to come to my squad table?" You said in the sweetest tone you could give him

He was not really an enjoyable company and you were not dying for him to eat with you but you understood how he felt, he was lonely now, if he had to think about where to sit he would have to process his siblings-like deaths and you knew he wasn't ready for that, no one was ever ready for that

But his mind was not with you right now, it wasn't on the dinner hall, it was in their old house, that horrible underground house where at least he had them

He did not answer you, heading towards his bedroom with an empty stomach

The moment his body touched the bed thoughts finally started to appear on his head

"Why? Why did I accept that mission. The underground was horrible but at least we were alive."

"Why? Why did I gave up and allowed them to go to that expedition, if I had been more stubborn they both would be alive"

"Why? Why did Erwin let us go with him knowing we were going to kill him, was he trying to get us killed by those monsters? Did he really wish for Isabel and Farlan's death?"

"Why? Why was I not able to save them?"

"Why did this happened? Maybe I deserved it, maybe every single bad thing I had done brought us there"

"But why was I the only one to survive? Isabel deserved life much more than I"

"It is my fault"

Every single one of those question ended up with "It is my fault"

The loud snorts of the idiots he had to share the room with and the knowledge that Farlan's bed was totally empty was not helping him

His mind growing meaner to him, blaming him more and more

Until a slight knock on the door woke him up from this nightmare

Not literally, he couldn't sleep, he had always had hard times sleeping and now? He knew he would never sleep again

With those very heavy feets and heavy eyes that did not abandon him since the loss of his friends he approached the door

And there you were, bothering him again, he was starting to hate you now, you had survived and Isabel and Farlan didn't, who gave you the rights to come and bother him every single time?

"I... thought you would like to have what Isabel left on our room"

His hate disappeared, his sadness disappeared, he could only think about how having Isabel things would bring her back to him

Both of you headed to the kitchen, you wouldn't bother anyone's sleep there

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, I couldn't sleep knowing Isabel was not on the other bed and I went to look at some of her things, I tought you would need it more than me" you were not lying... totally, you did all of that, you felt horrible after losing the girl and you could not sleep but you weren't sorry you woke him up, you knew how this worked he either couldn't sleep or was being haunted by nightmares

A slight grunt was the only answer Levi gave you

"I don't think she had wanted me to look through her things though so I didn't really touched anything, I think that's something she would have liked you to do" your voice barely reaching his ears as he found Isabel belongings

There were not many things, they did not have the money neither the time to buy unnecessary objects. Isabel did had a preferred shampoo she took with her to the survey corps, Levi remembered how he was the one who told her to buy something to clean herself apart from water, a small smile drawing on his lips as the memory crossed his mind

For him you were not there, neither was the kitchen, he was with Isabel trying to explain to her that some water won't make the dirt go away

"Levi, no one can afford the luxury of a clean hair here, don't be mean to the girl, just get her some shampoo"

They couldn't afford to lose their money in insignificant belongings and many of the underground would find shampoo as one of those but not Levi, he needed Isabel to be clean if she was going to live with them

He would give anything to be back there, to have them at his side again

But instead you were the one by his side today

And your voice brough him him back to his cruel and empty reality

"She told me that story about the bird you set free" your hands were holding a small piece of paper with a drawing of that little animal who made Farlan and him meet Isabel "I think I've never known someone who would risk their lives for a bird like she did"

"I did not know Isabel could draw like that"

"I... Isabel saw me sketching some of the new cadets training and once she told me the story about the bird we both thought it would be good to have something to remember that story"

Levi felt how his eyes darkened, he did not like how you were introducing yourself in his grief, you were not one of them, you were not someone Isabel trusted and you were not his friend, he did not want you, or anyone, to fill the void they left. No one could ever replace them

"Maybe I could do one for Isabel and Farlan so you can carry them with you always"

"I don't need anything like that" Levi grunted "and I don't need a new friend either so stop following me around everywhere, there is nothing to pity me about"

With that, Levi left and for the following days his hate towards himself and his blame started landing on to you

Every time he saw your face and your sweet gestures to try and make him survive through the situation it remembered him that it was real

You, your existence, proved that they were gone

He could no longer deny it

And his denial soon became hate and anger towards who he blamed their deaths on

His anger exploded on you and started to avoid you or mistreat you sometimes but deep down he was the one he blamed the most

134 notes · View notes

readiajin · 3 years

Text

To Love Herself

Helloooo acotar fandom. Or just Nessian fandom.

I have gone back and forth loving and hating acosf, but finally pinpointed the breaking point for me. I hated how the story played out after Nesta told Feyre about the baby. There was so much potential with how that whole situation could be handled. Instead Nesta was blamed for everything, with no one else ever taking responsibility.

Because of that I have decided to try my hand at writing a fanfic starting from that point in acosf. Below is what I would call the prologue and the beginning of the first chapter.

I have never posted anything I have written before, so please be kind. I would love feedback on it and if people are curious I will continue it.

Prologue

Nesta didn’t care. Couldn’t think around the roaring. “Have any of them told you, their respected high lady, that the baby in your womb will kill you?”

It broke something in Nesta—broke that rage, that roaring—- seeing those tears begin to fall, the fear crumpling Feyre’s painted-smeared face.

She had gone too far. She… Oh gods.

Amren said, “I think it is best, girl, if you speak to Rhysand about this.”

Nesta couldn’t bear it—the pain and fear and love on Feyre’s face as she caressed her stomach.

Amren growled at Nesta, “I hope you’re content now.”

Nesta didn’t respond. Didn’t know what to say or do with herself. She simply turned on her heel and ran from the apartment.

Nesta ran into the streets, escaping down side alleys, not caring where she went, as long as it was away. Away from Feyre and her pain, the pain Nesta had just so cruelly added to. Away from Amran, the first friend Nesta had once thought she was. Away from the rest of her sister’s new family.

Nesta had thought she was getting better. She had been trying, with Gwyn and Emerie. With Cassian. She had searched for the Dread Trove, to protect Elain. She had initially followed Rhysand’s order not to tell Feyre about the risk of the baby...

But standing in that apartment, Nesta had realized none of it mattered. Not while Feyre cried and Amran looked at her with such hatred and disgust. For all her efforts, Feyre and her Inner Circle would never like Nesta.

As she ran Nesta couldn’t entirely blame them. She didn’t like who she was either. Didn’t like the things she said, or what she did, or how she felt. She didn’t like her powers either, not when they were a manifestation of all the worst things about her. They were all better off without her.

The realization slammed into Nesta. It was not the first time she had thought it. She had lived in her rundown apartment for exactly that reason, to put space between her and her sister’s family. But they had always dragged her back in with parties and dinners, insisting Nesta be there. They only ever resulted in her once again feeling out of place and giving them all more reasons to loathe her. Until finally they had forced her to the House Of Wind

Nesta came to a halt in an ally that opened up to the Sidra and the setting sun. Her red hot anger from earlier was gone, replaced with that numb feeling that she had lived with for so long, the feeling she had been beginning to forget. How quickly it returned.

Feyre’s crumpled face flashed in her mind. Nesta knew they would be coming for her. Feyre deserved to know the truth about her baby, her body. Everyone had the right to the truth. But Rhysand, Amren, and the rest of them didn’t care about that. They only cared how Nesta made Feyre feel, so they would blame her. Including Cassian.

Cassian who she trusted, who she had let in despite knowing better. No one had ever tried as much as he had with her, but in the end he would always choose Feyre and the Inner Circle. He had continued to talk to them about her and keep things from her because of them.

No matter what he was to her, he was also better off without her. She was a burden he had been handling, but today proved it was all pointless. Nothing and nobody could fix her.

Her powers curled in her gut as she stared at the sparking water. She wanted to disappear.

So do it A voice whispered.

Silver flames sparked at the tips of Nesta’s fingers.

Disappear

Nesta hugged her hands to her chest, letting the cold flames sparkle across her body. Amren has been right. Nesta hadn’t had any interest in her powers. But now they were all she had left. They were the only thing that had made her worth anything to the others. But maybe now they were her answer. Nesta closed her eyes and let her leash slip, let the magic decide. Disappear.

“NESTA!” a distant voice shouted.

A voice Nesta knew in her soul.

As the world twisted in flicking silver, Nesta turned and glanced at the sky. Hazel eyes locked onto hers, and Nesta felt his anger and alarm. His horror. All about her. But not anymore. Nesta felt a single tear escape down her cheek as she allowed her magic to consume her, and let go.

•••••

Chapter 1 (1st part)

Do you plan on coming home soon Feyre darling?

Feyre sent a huff of a laugh back at Rhys. Why? Does somebody miss me?

Two somebodies actually. Rhys replied, Nyx wants to show you how he has improved his flying with Uncle Azriel today.

Feyre smiled at the image of her son jumping off couches to fly around the room played in her mind. She currently sat in her studio, working on a painting of Nyx flying with his father. She planned on saving it for his eighth birthday present in a couple months.

Feyre glanced out the window, where the streets were only illuminated by streetlight on the moonless night. She hasn’t realized how late it had become.

I’ll be home soon, I just have to clean up.

Don’t keep me waiting too long, Rhys rumbled back. A shiver went down Feyre’s spin as she cut off the connection with her mate to concentrate on cleaning.

She walked around the room, turning off most of the lights before going to the back to wash her brushes and pallet. As she stood at the sink, she suddenly felt a cold breeze at the back of her neck.

Feyre froze. She raised her head to look at the paint splattered mirror above the sinks. Through the smudged glass she could see a dark cloaked figure standing behind her.

Slowly, Feyre turned. “Who are you?” She demanded. “It’s not wise to sneak up on a High Lady.”

The figure stood perfectly still. As they stared at each other the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Finally the figure tilted their head to the side slightly. “Well? What do you want?”

An indignant huff came from beneath the cloak before reaching up to pull back their hood.

Feyre’s mind went blank as she took in her sister, whom she hadn’t seen or heard from in over 8 years.

“Hello Feyre.” Was all Nesta said.

Feyre stared at her older sister. Not a day had gone by since that terrible day in Amren’s apartment that Feyre hadn’t thought of Nesta. Not a day she hadn’t wondered, worried. They had searched for her. Had even reached out to the other courts when they became desperate for answers. But there had been no trace of her since Cassian had seen her consumed by silver flames.

Now standing before her, the first thing Feyre noticed was how healthy she looked. Nesta had slowly begun to look better after living in the House and training with Cassian for a few weeks. She had been gaining a little weight and some color back then.

But stepping in to the light cast from lanterns on the back counter, Nesta seemed to glow with health. Her hair was braided in its classic crown, but her face was full and tanned from being in the sun. Her eyes still held the same stormy intensity they always had, but the haunted look she had had was now replaced with a silver gleam.

Although most of her body was covered in a dark cloak, Feyre could see she was wearing fighting leathers— not Illyarian leathers. And peaking out over her right shoulder, was the pommel of a great sword. The Great Sword, the one she had accidentally Made. The sword that, along with the two other Made weapons, had been stolen from where they had been locked in the river house. The same night several priestess disappeared from the Library.

•••••

#nessian #acosf #acotar #sjm #nesta archeron #emerie #gwyneth berdara #valkyrie trio #valkyries #nessian fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #readiajin

79 notes · View notes

firemedicdiaz · 3 years

Text

The Road Will Lead You Home Again

Fandom: 9-1-1. Pairing: Buddie. Word Count: 2201. Genre: fluff. Rating: teen+. Summary: Eddie goes over to Buck’s to pick up Christopher, or how 4x08 should have ended. Warning(s): alcohol mention. Note: Beta’d by @fireladybuckley. AO3 link here.

Buck jumped as his apartment door was thrown open and Eddie rushed in, his expression bordering on unhinged. Buck hadn’t been expecting him for at least another five minutes given the distance between Eddie’s house and his apartment, but it was unsurprising that Eddie had taken speed limits and stop signs as suggestions more than anything considering the fear and restless energy rolling off him in waves.

“Christopher?” Eddie barked, glancing around frantically.

Buck stepped closer, putting a hand on Eddie’s chest to stop him.

“In the bathroom,” Buck explained. “He’s fine.”

He could feel Eddie’s chest heaving under the strain of his emotions and a frantic rush up three flights of stairs. Buck watched Eddie’s face, waited. It took a few moments for his words to sink in, but Eddie finally relaxed a fraction, dropping his shoulders and meeting Buck’s eyes.

“I’m sorry about all this,” Eddie said with a shake of his head, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “We’re going to have a long, hard talk about boundaries when we get home.”

Buck shook his head, dropping his hand as Eddie calmed.

“Not until you’ve slept on it,” Buck said softly. “Christopher is going through some stuff right now and he needs kindness, not a reprimand.”

Buck could feel the tension return to Eddie’s body even though they were no longer touching.

“You think you know how to parent my son better than I do?”

Buck raised his hands in an attempt to diffuse the tension as Eddie went on the defensive.

“I’m not saying that,” Buck said quickly. “I’m just saying that we had a heart-to-heart and that I really think Chris could use some reassurance that this - you dating Ana - doesn’t mean that he’s going to be left behind.”

Eddie almost visibly flinched at Buck’s words, the anger leaving him in a rush, replaced by a sudden chill, an understanding. Eddie cursed quietly and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is that what he said?”

Buck nodded, turning on his heel and making his way into the kitchen. Eddie followed along, leaning on the counter as Buck pulled two beers from the fridge and uncapped them, sliding one across the marble at Eddie.

“Between the shelter in place order and you dating again, he feels like everyone is leaving him,” Buck explained, taking a sip of his beer and regarding Eddie. “He told me that you promised him the two of you would try new things together after the whole skateboarding debacle, but this kind of came out of nowhere.”

Eddie cursed again, the conversation from that day coming back to haunt him. Of course Christopher was upset; bringing someone new into the family was a huge step, and Eddie hadn’t even asked Chris how he felt about it.

“Maybe you do know more about parenting him than I do,” Eddie said with a bitter laugh, his voice hollow.

“Come on, man, you know that’s not it,” Buck assured him, setting down his beer and coming around to Eddie’s side of the counter. He put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and Eddie would be lying if he said Buck’s touch wasn’t exactly what he needed right then. “Christopher came to me because he needed a friend, but he’s going to need his dad to walk him through this new normal.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Eddie lamented.

Buck’s hand stayed in place, its weight grounding Eddie as anxiety gnawed at him. It was terrifying, the realization that Christopher was growing up, understanding more than Eddie was giving him credit for, and Eddie wasn’t sure he was ready to take on some of the big conversations they needed to have. Shannon would have been great at it, and with her by his side it might not have been so dizzying, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to manage on his own.

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” Buck said sagely like he was reading off a motivational poster. “But it’s worthwhile, and you’re not alone. You’ve got Bobby, and Hen, and - and you’ve got me. I may not be a dad, but I was a pretty messed up kid. If nothing else, I can tell you what not to do.”

Eddie’s heart ached at Buck’s attempt at jest. Setting his beer down, he turned slowly to face his best friend, meeting Buck’s eyes. There, under a veil of confidence and conviction, behind the hurt at memories of his own childhood, Eddie saw a shadow of something different, something more. It was gone in a flash, before he could even begin to delve into it, but it made the gears in Eddie’s head turn a bit as he processed what that look might’ve meant.

Clearing his throat before he could get completely waylaid, deciding it was neither the time nor the place to dwell on whatever moment had just transpired, Eddie glanced around the apartment again.

“Christopher’s been in the bathroom a while, I should go check on him.”

“I’ll get him,” Buck interjected. “Make yourself at home.”

Eddie agreed with a nod, watching Buck disappear further into the apartment before making his way to the couch. Christopher’s crutches were propped against the side of it and Eddie relaxed a fraction at the tangible proof that Christopher was there and safe. He rested his elbows on his knees as he sat, dropping his head into his hands and wondering just where he’d screwed up parenting so badly that Christopher didn’t think he could open up and talk to him about what was on his mind.

“If we need to take a break, I’ll understand.”

Eddie smiled and held up a hand.

“Hold on, hold on. He and I can figure this out. In the meantime, I don’t want you going anywhere. Got that?”

Ana’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, not that he’d noticed it at the time. He’d been too busy looking ahead to a future where he wasn’t so cripplingly alone. Of course he had his coworkers and his family. He also had Buck.

Buck, who would drop everything to help out even without Eddie having to ask. Buck, whom Christopher looked at like he’d hung the moon. Buck, who was in his heart and on his mind even when he was miles away.

But he needed someone in the in-between. Someone whose touch could calm him, ground him, who could reassure him that maybe he wasn’t making an absolute mess of parenting, learning, and growing as a person. Someone who could be his heart and his soul. His best friend.

But he already had that too, didn’t he?

“I got it,” Ana’s voice called to him through the cobwebs, returning him to that moment.

“I’ll uh, talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie shook his head, dispelling the unwelcome flashback. His heart beat heavily in his chest at the implications of the memory and he nearly jumped as a weight landed on the couch beside him. Looking over, Eddie found Christopher sitting at his side, his head bowed and looking so much younger and more innocent than Eddie was used to seeing.

Any remaining anger that Eddie felt disappeared as Christopher worried with the hem of his shirt, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Eddie shifted closer, putting an arm around Chris’ shoulders and pulling him close, pressing a kiss into Christopher’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re safe, mijo,” Eddie murmured, holding Christopher tightly enough that the boy squirmed in his grip. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, dad,” Christopher said quietly, keeping his gaze averted. “I won’t do it again.”

“I appreciate that, but I want you to know that I’m not mad at you. I understand.”

Eddie’s compassion piqued Christopher’s interest and he finally looked up, cautiously meeting Eddie’s gaze. Eddie smiled, brushing a few stray curls away from Christopher’s forehead.

“I was wrong, buddy, and I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly. “I should have talked to you before I started dating again. That’s on me. I made a promise to you and I broke it, and now I’m going to make it right, okay?”

“How?” Christopher asked.

“By starting over,” Eddie replied with a courage that he wasn’t sure he could live up to. “By breaking it off with her and by starting again with someone else, but only if that’s okay with you.”

Christopher considered the words for a moment and smiled, nodding as he leaned into Eddie again and wrapped his arms around him. Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and embraced Chris, holding onto him for a long moment. He glanced up as he sensed movement in the periphery of his vision and found Buck watching the two of them from the kitchen.

“Can you start over with Buck?” Christopher asked, and Eddie’s heart nearly stopped as he wondered whether Buck could hear them from his vantage point. Buck’s face gave nothing away, and Eddie operated on the hope that they were out of earshot as he agreed to something he thought he’d have a little more time to process before acting on.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Eddie whispered, holding Christopher just a little tighter to borrow some of the boy’s unbridled courage and enthusiasm. “Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Christopher giggled.

“Yeah! He promised he wasn’t going anywhere.”

Eddie’s heart leapt at the implications of Buck’s promise to Christopher, settling into a quick, erratic drumbeat as he wondered whether Buck’s sentiments would stay the same once Eddie came out and admitted that he’d love nothing more than to have Buck in their lives forever, and not just for evenings and weekends.

“Okay,” Eddie said quietly. “Do you think I should do it now?”

Christopher nodded, giving Eddie a playful shove to get him going. Eddie took a slow, deep, steadying breath and stood, slipping his hands into his pockets to keep himself from fidgeting as he made his way into the kitchen. He could hear the drag of fabric on fabric as Christopher swiveled on the couch and he could feel Chris’ gaze on him as he made his way toward Buck. Buck’s expression was quizzical as Eddie approached and he slid Eddie’s beer in his direction again as though sensing Eddie’s nervousness.

“Good talk?” Buck asked casually.

“Yeah, I think so,” Eddie replied. “We came to an understanding.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, wordlessly encouraging Eddie to go on.

“I’m breaking up with Ana.”

Eddie had expected surprise, disbelief, maybe, but not the warmth and approval that Buck’s expression held.

“You’re a good dad, Eddie. Chris is lucky to have you, and I’m sure you’ll find someone even better for you one day.”

Eddie picked up his beer and averted his gaze as he took a long swig.

“I’ve already got someone better.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie watched Buck tilt his head curiously. He could feel those blue eyes burning a hole straight through him and he took another sip before setting his beer down. The clink of glass on marble was louder than he’d intended as the bottle slipped from his nervous fingers and it didn’t escape Buck’s notice.

“Eddie?”

“I’ve had someone better for a while,” Eddie continued before he could talk himself out of it. “I just hope he’ll have me back.”

Eddie looked over pointedly to meet Buck’s gaze. He watched Buck process, the other man’s expression changing from confusion, to realization, to acceptance, and then to something else. Something that made Eddie weak-kneed as he realized just how desperately he’d wanted to see it in Buck’s eyes for so long.�� For longer than he cared to admit.

Approval.

“You mean… me?”

Buck had to be sure, of course. He had feelings of his own, feelings his tone and the way the words caught in his throat when he’d asked Eddie about his date had nearly belied. He’d never been good at reading people, though, and as much as he knew Eddie inside and out, he found it even harder to read him, and so he’d kept those feelings to himself. To see them being reciprocated was something Buck was both desperate and completely unprepared for.

“Yeah, Buck, I mean you.”

Their gazes stayed locked as Eddie moved around the counter between them, closing in on Buck. Eddie bit his lip, feeling suddenly shy, unsure of himself, and Buck’s heart swelled with love. Buck broke into a soft, easy smile, reaching out to wrap his arms around Eddie as the other man stepped into reach. Eddie sagged into Buck’s embrace, locking his hands around Buck’s waist and holding onto him, breathing him in.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

Eddie pulled back just enough to be able to see Buck’s face. He chuckled softly, inhaling sharply a moment later as Buck tilted his head, pressing his lips to Eddie’s, effectively stealing his breath away. The joy Eddie felt as they connected was so deep and fulfilling that any doubts he had went up in smoke and he smiled into the kiss as Chris’ cheers of celebration filled the air.

#9-1-1 #Buddie #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Christopher Diaz #9-1-1 fanfiction #fanfiction #missing scene

98 notes · View notes

zodiyack · 3 years

Text

In Letters

Requested by @imaginesbymk: Oh gosh hi! Could I request a imagine w/ Eugene Sledge falling in love with y/n and when he returns home he surprises them with flowers and asks y/n out on a date? Hope this was ok!

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, mentions of war

Words: 1,795

Summary: (See Request)

Note: So I got a little carried away and I’m not too proud of the ending, but I tried my best and I hope you liked it :D

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow

Masterlist | Joe Mazzello Masterlist

My dearest Gene,

The nights seem quiet, deafeningly so. The room feels lonesome without your presence. Although it pains me to admit it, it’s not just my chambers that are haunted with such sadness.

I feel goosebumps rise from my skin as I lie in bed, similar to the ones I’d get when you wrapped your arms around me. The hairs on my neck rise just as they did when you whispered in my ear each night, assuring me that nothing could hurt me, for you were there to fend off whatever creatures dwelled in the night. But alas, these are not from you this time. My body reacts in such ways to a frightening feeling, one I almost forgot having never felt it after the first night you snuck into my room, and the nights prior to your descent. With you away, I have no soldier to protect me whilst I rest.

My words, melancholy yet true, shan’t bring you down... I hope. Please do not assume wrongly of my intent; I am indeed very proud of you. So much so that I simply cannot help but worry.

What has my worries, you may ask?

Well, my soldier, it’s you. Whether this letter will actually find your soft hands at all, I know not, however, you told me to have hope, so I will. Before you set this parchment aside and go out to your tasks, I ask one last request.

Take your advice, and have hope. When the nights become too much, think not of the horrors, but of me, of this letter, of the nights back home wherein you protect me like you are now protecting us.

You’re so strong and brave. I find it mandatory that you know that and believe it, not just hear the words and brush it off as a compliment. Eugene Sledge, it is a fact. You hold others up as though you are Atlas and they are the world that you carry upon your shoulders. Even now, you carry a burden and you march forward nonetheless. It amazes me. Inspires me, truly.

To end this letter, I’m unsure. Do I make up some falsehood to fill you with delight? No, no, I cannot do such a thing to you, even if I wanted to. I can try all I want, but anytime a lie is formed on the tip of my tongue whenever I talk to you, it rolls backwards rather than out like I want it to.

What ever are you doing to me, Eugene Sledge?

Y/n

Darling Eugene,

You didn’t have to send me the necklace. You know that, right? Nonetheless... I have yet to take it off since I received it. It smells like you. Before the war. Your scent lulls me to sleep as though you are lying with me once more. I’m too overjoyed to remind myself of the reality. I hope you received my gift. And I hope it gives you the same affects yours does unto me.

I try to cling to the hope that you may return safe and unharmed. Any type of war is never easy, I know that, I really do, and I know you won’t be the same person you were when you left. However, you will always be my Gene. With that being said; I will never turn my back on you the way you wrote, the way you feared I would.

Lest you too lack of sleep more than before, I have included a gift of my own. See to it as...a gift to make things even. It’s only fair, seeing as you sent me an accessory you crafted. If you haven’t seen it yet- open it.

A locket can be seen as a feminine accessory, yes, but in truth, it’s attached to no sex. I do hope you like it. I’ve also debated on sending you one with a photo of us both, but settled on purchasing matching necklaces. One for you, which holds my photo, and one for me, which holds yours. Before you lecture me on spending money on you- I spent it for both my sake and yours.

I’ve read every book you gifted me throughout the years and still, you are not yet in my arms nor beside me in the study. I try to imagine, but it gets harder as time goes on. I miss you.

I hold strong aversion to the time it shall take for your return. Nothing pains me more than the suffering you must be going through, and the suffering I too am experiencing. Though my pain is less than yours, it is still great in its ability to affect me. Life without you is dull, meaningless, gut-wrenching and awfully depressing.

Have you made any friends? Other than “Peaches” and “Snafu”, whomever those men are. Perhaps you can introduce some of them to me when you’re home, I’d love to meet the men who kept you company. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. (Peaches is quite an interesting name though. I mean no ill-will behind my curiosity, but...is “Peaches” his real name?)

In reference to my previous question; I myself haven’t made any new friends. To be completely honest, I rarely leave the house. Whenever I step foot outside...it feels...well...pardon my language, like I’m entering a shit show, stepping into hell itself. I’d rather be in hell than live in a world without you.

Think not of my prior comment. Merely bask in the positive parts of this letter. For me.

All my love,

Y/n

Eugene,

I heard you boys are coming home? I do hope the news is true. I fear I cannot face yet another disappointment, nor much longer without you. As time has gone by, nights spent without you beside me, days awfully bore...your face seems to fade as though it plots to abscond.

Funny. It’s seldom that I think of anything else, and it still rebuffs all my attempts to conjure your image into my brain. Whilst I have photographs to assist in my efforts, I can’t quite see your beauty in full, as though the photo is faceless. I miss your charming features and I loathe myself for having struggled to remember them now, even if it happened against my own wishes.

Albeit my words, which were truthful, I still see you in my dreams. Only, when I wake, your face abates until it’s lost in the nothingness, lightyears away from my grasp.

My sincerest apologies for the briefness of this letter and its majority of sorrowful content. I would write you a thousand joyous letters if only I had the strength to tell you falsities.

Awaiting your return,

Y/n

Each letter he received from her warmed his heart and never failed to put a smile on his face. Despite being in a literal warzone, joy never left his heart. The nights where he couldn’t sleep due to the things he had to see, the things his imagination conjured up, or just due to the lack of Y/n. It was the last one more often than not.

Snafu teased Sledge with each letter he managed to catch a glimpse of. Despite the man’s suggestive teasing, the two in question were only friends, inseparable since childhood. However, he wasn’t completely wrong with his jabs. Eugene felt his heart long for her like hers did him, but his longing wasn’t purely platonic. Since his teen years, he felt an almost magnetic-like pull towards her. Her letters only amplified the harshness of the tug on the invisible rope.

His hands shook as he wrote back to her, the first few lines seeming very unlike himself, but the rest so poetic and beautiful, even Snafu was speechless. The words were there, but they only really flowed onto the paper after he let go of control and wrote from the heart. Honest and sincere, he told her as much as he could.

The only thing he didn’t include ever, was a confession.

It took almost all of his strength to prevent himself from giving in to the urge of being lovesick-fool. But as her letters grew more desolate, as the war became more intense, as his time to write shortened...he couldn’t bring himself to confess. He couldn’t bring himself to push that onto her- a confession during the war, forcing her to live with his last letter being a question he could never fulfill.

...

He underestimated himself in so many ways.

The second he returned home, he bought flowers and rushed to find her, not even caring to make sure he looked his best. It was the first thing on his mind. Despite being ever so tired, his eyelids begging to drop for a little while longer, his feet sore beneath him- he powered through.

His fist rapped against the door, a quiet hiss leaving his mouth through his teeth at the feeling of his skin coming in contact with the hard wood. It creaked open, half of a face, an eye mostly, coming into view slowly before it widened and the door swung open.

“Gene!”

She surged forward, wrapping her arms around him as she leapt into his grasp. The two chuckled for a moment before her feet found the ground again and they stood in silence. Drinking each other in, all they could do was smile.

“Oh!” Eugene exclaimed once he’d returned to reality, holding out his hand to Y/n. “I uh- bought these for you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly, accepting the gift with teary eyes.

“But...not as a friend gift, really.”

“Well of course not, we’re best friends!”

“No, no... I mean it as a step above best friends. I mean them as a gift and a question.” Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head, visibly confused. “I know I just came home- I haven’t even changed my clothes for fucks sake, but I need to ask. I’ve wanted to ask for so long.”

Y/n’s eyes darted around, even more confused than before. “Ask what?”

Eugene cleared his throat, finally meeting her eyes; “Would you be interested in joining me for a meal...or, more specifically, a date? It doesn’t have to be today-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.” Y/n bit her lower lip and giggled. “I would love to. Tonight, after you get some rest, I’ll meet you at your place.” Y/n placed a hand on Eugene’s cheek, smiling at him. Then, her lips replaced her hand. She turned and walked back inside, closing the door with a smile.

The soldier outside, who had faced and won two wars around the same time, stood outside, hand where Y/n’s lips were, and a matching smile upon his lips. He was undoubtedly glad he didn’t confess in letters.

#eugene sledge x reader #eugene sledge #eugene sledge imagine #joe mazzello #joseph mazzello x reader #joseph mazzello imagine #imagine eugene sledge #joseph mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #zodiyack #x reader #reader insert #all readers #imagine #the pacific #the pacific x reader #the pacific imagine #i hope you liked it!

131 notes · View notes

chocolate-parfait · 3 years

Note

can I suggest a headcanon for arthur, theo and comte ( or dazai ) reacting to their selectively mute s/o speaking for the first time? ( maybe even singing? ) you can decide if you want a scenario for one of them and what mc sounds like, wether shes soft spoken or has a mature voice~ whatever you feel comfortable with >:0 👌 — have a nice day ! ♡

I made some research to write this but tell me if anything's inaccurate or wrong! I'll fix it right away

Selectively mute MC - ikevamp headcanons (Arthur, Theo & Comte)

Arthur

Arthur's a bit suspicious when he sees how uncomfortable you seem to be on your first night. No normal person would feel completely at ease, that's for sure, and yet the way your gaze flickers around the room, the way you fidget with your own hands, the look of pure anxiety on your pretty features, they're all blatant red flags for him, though he decides to let you be. It's your first night, after all, for all he knows you could just be terribly shy, right?

He started piecing the signs together after a couple days when your voice was yet to be heard. The only thing they knew was your name, which you wrote on a piece of paper after Vincent's many soft encouragements.

The English writer had tried flirting with you a couple times, but after being met with the same indicators of discomfort as night one, he decided to step back and watch from the sidelines, occasionally helping others translate whatever you were trying to tell them with your body language.

Selective mutism had been diagnosed around 1870 for the first time, and although it was still a relatively new medical condition, he still was a couple decades more experienced when it came to medicine. After realizing that was your case, he moved to inform everyone in the mansion so that they could adjust their behaviors and avoid causing you too much distress.

Eventually Arthur becomes the person you spend most time with in the whole house; you can feel he genuinely cares and, despite the voices you had heard about his incorrigible attitudes and questionable habits, you start appreciating all the efforts he puts into making sure you're always comfortable and understood (his efforts were very much succeeding, by the way).

On one particular night, you decided to bring some coffee to his room, a silent gesture of support in his regards, but once you entered the bedroom, he turned to look you in the eyes and you saw his beautiful blue orbs, usually alight with mischief, now dark and wavering, surrounded by puffy, red skin. He had been crying. Despite all his best efforts to hide it, everyone knew the writer had his own ghosts from the past haunting him, but seeing him so wretched and broken made your heart squeeze in sympathy and pity.

Seeing your worried expression Arthur immediately turned the other way, letting out a self deprecating laugh as he thought this was probably not helping with your case at all. "Ah- D-don't worry about me! I just got some dust in my eyes. Clumsy old me-!" You set down the tray on his desk and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"A-arthur, you can tell me. I'm here for you."

His heart almost flew out of his chest as his wide eyes stared at you in disbelief. He abruptly stood up and had to stop himself from hugging you and twirling you around, grabbing your shoulders instead. "MC, you just spoke right now, didn't you?!". He was so shocked he completely forgot about his troubles and spent minutes fawning over you. He didn't realize he was coming off as too strong until he noticed your voice getting quieter and quieter. He then apologized and took a moment to cool himself off.

From then on, your relationship goes through revolutionary changes as he finally gets to learn more about your past, tastes and personality. Each little detail makes him more and more interested in what had been a complete mystery to everyone for days. As the writer of Sherlock Holmes he certainly couldn't let this one chance fly out of the window now, could he?

If his brain malfunctioned when he heard your voice for the first time, it is pretty accurate to say that he almost passed away for the second time when he heard your laugh! It's the best and most effective antidepressant he's tried in a long time, and the more open you become, the more the look in your eyes starts to brighten up, a worthy rival to the breathtaking smile that graces your lips every now and then.

Your voice is sweet, calm and soft, and Arthur feels as if he's floating on a cloud whenever he hears it. It isn't loud, either, making everything you say seem like the most intimate secret one could whisper to a close friend. On the other hand, your laugh is like the clear and light tinkling of a bell. Each time you let out even the smallest of chuckles his cheeks flush with a rosy blush, earning him stares and teasing remarks from the closest fellow vampire in the room.

Slowly, he starts to see his reactions for what they are: sprouts of a new love. As time passes by, he realizes he wants to hear more and more of your voice. He wants to hear you whimper his name lost in overwhelming pleasure, he wants to hear all the sweet nothings and declarations of love you can offer him, comforting words, even gibberish and dark secrets. Everything that comes out of your mouth is like molten gold to him, and he wants it all to himself.

He starts bragging to others, though it does not take long before you're comfortable enough to grace them with the sound of what Arthur has come to love so much. On one side he's jealous because you've denied him the privilege of being the only one to hear your voice, but at the same time he's also extremely proud of you! You're finally happy and there's no more traces of anxiety and worry in your eyes whenever you're surrounded by the other vampires, and that's one of the most important milestones he's honored have witnessed by your side.

Theo

Let's just say that you and theo start off on the wrong foot. To say that you're frightened of him at first is an understatement, and you very much avoid him for as much as you can. He feels guilt strangling his throat whenever he sees your quivering form running away from him, and after noting that you behaved similarly with everyone and still hadn't uttered a word in days made him worry even more.

Arthur's the one who comes up with a diagnosis, and with that everyone changes their manners and speech to make you feel more at ease. Theo, just like his blue haired friend, is actually pretty good at reading body language so he has no particular struggles when it comes to your needs. Unfortunately, he's not so smooth in regulating his tone and words, which often come out a little to harsh. Vincent often reprimands him for it, and he can't help but feel even worse when he realizes he's probably ruining your whole stay.

He starts distancing himself, and you gradually start sticking by the local angel's side, never leaving him for even a second; his vibes are so pure and soothing that they help you out with your anxiety and symptoms. Needless to say, he's also very understanding and is not at all bothered to speak in your stead. This leads to Vincent being the first one to hear your voice, and he's without doubt elated, but he also wishes for you to be able to socialize with the others, too. Theo in particular.

After days and days of the artist's endless rants on how good his little brother actually is, your image of the gruff man has been replaced by that of a soft hearted puppy. Too bad that this soft puppy looks like a hungry hunt dog more than a small, soft cloud of love.

Ironically enough, what brings you and Theo to a new stage of your basically nonexistent relationship is King. In the dog's presence he lets his guards down and turns into a loving owner of a very good and friendly golden nugget, subsequently becoming more approachable. Besides, everyone knows how helpful animals are in fighting anxiety and social disorders! And on the advice of Arthur, he invites you to his daily walk with his dog, hoping your fear will melt away with time.

He's a stubborn man, and even when such delicate issues come his way, he has no intention of giving up. No matter how much time it'll take him, he believes he's going to convince you he's not that bad as you first thought. Why is he trying so hard though? Well, not only it's something that stems from Vincent's care for you, but it's also something for your own good. If you were to avoid him for a whole month, you'd get nothing out of it, and a constant lingering sense of panic would follow you pretty much anywhere; but living for a whole month in those conditions is a no-no for Theo. He has no intention of uselessly make you suffer like that, and as he reminds himself of that, his willpower strengthens his determination to search for a common ground between you two.

Albeit slowly, you start getting less tense around him, and the fright fades away bit by bit with each walk in the woods with the Dutch art dealer and the excited bundle of golden hair. It's a lengthy process that takes many days, but Theo finally knows his efforts aren't vain when he hears you coo at the golden retriever. "King... you're such a good boy.." You say with with the warmest smile he had ever seen painted on someone's face as you patted his canine friend's head lovingly. In that moment he wished he could frame the scene and hang it up in his room next to his brother's paintings.

He didn't know whether it was the emotion of hearing your voice for the first time or the implications that told him you weren't that scared of him anymore, but he became hyper aware that his wasn't a normal heartbeat. Unsteady and crazy like that of a lovestruck fool. Was this all it took him to fall head over heels for someone? Or was this a process that had started way before?

It still takes you some time to be fully able to speak complete sentences in his presence, but once you do, he's overcome with one of the greatest feelings of satisfaction he had ever felt in his two lives, and he can definitely agree that everything was worth the wait and the labour.

Just like Arthur, your laugh almost makes him fly through the roof, but what turns him into a formless puddle of mushy feelings and amazement is your singing voice. The first time he hears you intone a medley to him he turns to stone and just stays there, unmoving. He has an eye for finding hidden talents, but oh God was your singing unexpected. His feeling may be out of place here, but he's so, so glad to have your singing all to himself. He finds the act extremely intimate, and for how much he may believe he doesn't deserve it, he cannot deny the positive effects it has on him

Sometimes, when you're talking to him, you can see him turn his face away and smile to himself like an idiot. In those times, he's thinking about how far you two came, and how glad he is to have persisted as much as he did.

Comte

Comte emanates a slightly threatening and imposing aura but it can also be calm and placid, like his voice. First and foremost he's a gentleman, but he sometimes comes off as very intimidating to those who are not used being around such strong presences like his. Luckily, he's a very patient man, and you can feel no judgement nor malice coming from him. He's lived a long, long life, and he knows better than overstepping people's boundaries and making fun of their insecurities.

When with him, you can do things at your own pace! If you don't feel like talking then he's totally okay with it; take your time to find your own way and pace of doing things, he'll gladly help if you ever ask him (with gestures or, once you're closer, with words).

The panic you feel in his presence dissolves gradually; there are no particular events that cause a turning point in your relationship, it just happens. Despite living in such a big mansion, avoiding all life forms is pretty much impossible, so you happen to share some interactions every now and then. Sometimes it's an afternoon tea, others it's just him making small talk as you clean his room (he's either talking to himself or asks answers you can nod to if you feel more comfortable). He immediately makes it clear that he doesn't expect nor want to pressure you in delivering any answer, and if you ever happen to feel too overwhelmed he excuses himself and leaves the room.

One day as you were dusting the shelves in his office, he casually says:"The weather's really nice today." But your head doesn't move in assent, instead he receives a shocking reply despite the ordinariness of the topic. "It really is... T-there's not a cloud in the sky, either." A shocked expression momentarily appears on his features, soon replaced by a wide smile as he hums back in agreement.

He doesn't let it show but he's utterly in love with your voice. It's an addiction but he still wants to give you enough space and time to get comfortable with the idea of speaking around him, so he tries to keep himself in check all the time.

It's when he hears you singing that he can't help but feel greedy, and the rare sight of Comte's blushing cheeks greets you for the first time ever. It's his weak point, use it as you may deem ;)

(okay but jokes aside WHY would you ever want to use it against him, he'd build a pyramid with a butter knife while doing a backflip if you asked him to tbh,, the man is Whipped.)

Everything you do has a meaning and a significance, so he's always taking in even the smallest piece of information you may subconsciously slip his way. Seeing how you trust him enough to lower your guards about him makes him all the more appreciative of the bond you two share. For this reason, if you ever want to try and get over your anxiety, he'll be there to walk with you from the first to the last step of your journey.

His favorite thing is when he's holding you in his arms, nuzzled against his chest while he dozes off to your heavenly humming. It makes him feel like a prince living his happy ever after in a fairytale and he couldn't be more grateful.

#my writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp imagines #ikevamp comte #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #arthur conan doyle #theodorus van gogh #comte de saint germain #answered

254 notes · View notes

sserpente · 4 years

Photo

A/N: Request from @nebulousfishgills and myself. *giggles* Thomas Sharpe is back in time for Halloween season! Also, this is probably one of the cheesiest Imagines I’ve ever written. Be warned and enjoy!

Words: 2329 Warnings: so much fluff

Thomas Sharpe had stepped into your life rather unexpectedly. He had been looking for work in your brother’s mining company and, thanks to his experience, landed a well-paid job soon after. Your brother liked him. He was the true personification of Britishness—polite, considerate, a Gentleman… and he did love his tea.

Every year when the leaves began to grow too heavy on the trees, discolour and fall off, your brother held a feast to thank his employees for their hard work before the mines closed over the winter. You usually helped to prepare and cook and refill empty glasses; and last year you happened to have refilled Thomas’ glass. He had been smitten by you as much as you had been smitten by him and after countless rendezvous where he confided in you about his horrifying past, you now considered yourselves a couple.

It had been almost a year. Autumn was drawing near again and as you drove through a grove in a carriage, able to peacefully take in the beauty of the season, you leaned against Thomas’ strong body. He sighed, his shoulders heaving. In fact, he had been rather quiet for days now.

“Thomas, are you alright?” Looking up at him with a concerned expression on your face, you allowed him to cup your cheek in response.

“Oh, yes. The cold seasons always remind me of home, that is all.“ He confessed, giving you a small smile. A sad smile.

“This is your home now,” you reassured him. “You are beyond welcome here. A new beginning, remember?”

He hummed in response. “A new beginning…”

By the time you arrived at the modest house your brother and you were sharing and you finished cooking dinner for you two, Thomas was still silent. Eerily silent, almost. And it made you worry for him.

Moment after moment passed with only the cutting, chewing and swallowing of food being audible in the cosy kitchen.

“I want to go back to England.” He suddenly stated. You almost dropped your fork.

“You… what? Really?”

“Yes. It is just like you said,” He went on, growing more enthusiastic with a start, “A new beginning. I could start over, restore the house… it does not have to wither away.”

“But… Thomas, I thought you were glad you left this place… that you have so many terrible memories attached to Allerdale Hall. Are you sure you want to be there again?”

Your appetite was all but lost now. Discouraged, you put your fork down and looked him straight in the eye—his beautiful, innocent blue eyes.

“I am. It took me weeks to figure out just why I do not feel complete in this place. I am missing something. I am missing my roots.”

He reached across the table to hold your hand when your eyes filled with tears. “So… you will leave me?”

Thomas shook his head. “No! No, I do not want to leave you. In fact… I meant to ask if you would like to come with me. I do not ask you to leave your home forever. But if I spend my summers here with you, working for your brother and return to England for the winters…”

“Thomas…”

“Please, my love. I want you to be with me. The house is all I have left in my possession and I cannot live at your and your brother’s expenses forever. If I could I would long have purchased us a house here so we can get married and raise our children in our very own home but my savings will not allow it. Instead… if I used them to restore Allerdale Hall…”

Your lips parted. He wanted to marry you. He meant to buy a house where you could raise your children. And he truly seemed to miss his home. Biting your lower lip, you considered his proposal for a moment.

All the work that would come with restoring an entire mansion did not put you off as much as the fact that Allerdale Hall was miles away from your own birthplace. Only if you were with Thomas… did it truly matter where you were? If it meant so much to him… as for you, as long as you could stay with him, it did not matter much to you where you were. It was the change that was scary.

“If this is what you really want…” You finally responded. “…then I will come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree and you nodded.

“I will.” There was no denying your promise, in this very moment, was as significant as a wedding vow.

“Thomas… this house is huge. It’s just the two of us. How will we use all of this space?” Tilting your head back, you took in the gigantic construction towering into the sky.

“We’ll have to have lots of children.” He replied, gently kissing your cheek and hugging you from behind.

There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, letting the cold autumn air come inside, trapping it. It was freezing. Thomas had not exaggerated. The house was in dire need of renovation but together, so you were certain, you would transform this place into an exciting and a cosy living place. A place in which your children could grow up in and, once in adulthood, remember fondly what it had been like.

You worked hard. Your brother knew some good and honest roofers who offered a fair price for the repair of the ceiling, after that Thomas was able to afford two floorers with whom he began figuring out a way to keep the house from sinking into the red clay he had told you about underneath.

Everything had remained just like he had left it, even his clay machine. Only the bodies… the bodies must have been removed by wild animals or a decent human being who found and buried them. Thomas himself could not bring himself to bury both his most recent wife and sister himself—and after everything that happened, the remaining villagers were rather out of sorts with the last survivor of the Sharpe family.

The next couple of weeks you spent cleaning and tidying (and sneezing) and building and sweeping and slowly but surely, Allerdale Hall was turning into a wonderful home. Not once since your arrival had you felt the presence of a tormented ghost—not once had either of you been haunted. It was like, ever since Lucille’s death, the many murdered women in this house had finally been able to move on.

His favourite part of the house was still the attic which had remained untouched for the most part. You had merely replaced the sofa and the desks, added some lovely curtains and a beautiful lustre for his late-night crafting.

You were almost done now. Nearly everything was clean and tidy, new furniture adding an elegant touch to the old house. The only thing still missing was the outer front and the lowest level. Thomas had told you he no longer wanted anything to do with red clay mining, for it reminded him too much of his past with Lucille and the horrible deeds he had been forced to be a part of. Instead, he wanted to keep helping your brother develop new machines for his mines.

“I have an idea.” You said, loosening your tight ponytail after another cleaning orgy in the house. It was only time for lunch and you could not wait to retreat to your new bedroom already. It was Thomas’ old room, re-furnished and cosier than you could have ever imagined. Thomas had spent a fortune on the new king-size bed with the softest mattress you had ever had the pleasure to sleep on.

“You have had many wonderful ideas over the last few weeks, my love.” Thomas said with a smile. “What have you thought of now?”

“We should host a party tomorrow night.”

His lips parted in surprise. “A party? For whom?”

“No one in particular. Us. Our new home. Besides, Halloween is right around the corner. We should ask everyone to dress up and have some fun after all the hard work.” Now there was a chance that the villagers would downright refuse to set foot into this building ever again but you were rather sure that most of them were curious as to what had become of Allerdale Hall as well. Thomas would be able to prove to them he was a good and decent man—and that he had finally found happiness.

“I agree. I do believe we deserve some time off.”

You were busy the next morning, sending out invitations and then buying all the supplies you would need for your Halloween party. Thomas had outdone himself with his outfit—he prepared an all-black suit and black polished shoes along with a cylinder and a dark red bowtie, the latter which fit the dress he had insisted on buying you for tonight perfectly.

Now that the first guests began to arrive in their carriages, all wearing fashionable masks as it was Halloween, admiring what had become of the house so far, Thomas’ nervousness infected you. You had decorated where you could, collecting sycamore leafs and carving pumpkins which were now grinning eerily with candles inside of them. You soon realised, however, that your worries were unnecessary. Thomas conversed like the true Gentleman he was, passionately recalling how much fun it had been to restore the house and that he would have never been able to do any of that without your help. That was when all the attention drifted to you.

Thomas had just disappeared upstairs with an old friend who had been happy enough about his return to show him his renovated workshop when an older man, perhaps in his late fifties, approached you with dismay coating his lips. The rest of his face was unreadable given that he too was wearing a mask.

“So I understand it that you will at some point be marrying the baronet then, my lady?”

“Yes, Sir.” You responded with a polite and content smile. The man shook his head.

“Well, good luck. His last few wives all passed away under rather strange circumstances.”

Tensing up a little, you lifted your chin.

“So I’ve heard and that is very unfortunate. Sir Thomas has my deepest sympathy. And I thank you for your concern but I don’t easily perish.” In fact, the very first thing Thomas and you had done was tossing out the poisoned tea Lucille had been using on his former wives. It was still unsettling sometimes to know he had been involved in murders—but you also knew that Thomas was a good man. He had already lost Edith. He would not lose you.

“You sure don’t, my lady. However, the last remaining woman in Sir Sharpe’s life was his sister Lucille and even her body was never found. I am only trying to help. I run a hotel a few miles west of this atrocious place. I can provide shelter for you, my lady, and hide you from him.”

Shit. You clutched your dress tightly so your hands would not shake as much. “Thank you but that will not be necessary. I love my soon-husband-to-be dearly and if you keep insulting him or his intentions, I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Is there a problem?” Relieved, you let out a breath when you felt Thomas’ arm around your waist and turned around to notice his stern gaze. It was not often you experienced him this cold. The older man blinked, fists clenching a few times.

“No. No problem at all, Sir Sharpe.”

“Good.” With that, he reached for your arm, gently pulling you into the living room. A pianist—another good friend of your brother’s—was filling the hall with warm musical sounds as a couple of guests were dancing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. He was just being… invasive… about your past.”

“I suspected this might happen tonight.”

“Yes…”

You joined the dancers with a sly smile, letting Thomas take the lead and following his elegant movements as you melted into the harmonious music, both your feet gliding across the floor. And when the piece ended and you came to rest in graceful position in his arms… he suddenly went down on one knee and cupped one of your hands with his as you looked up at you like the most blessed man on the planet. Your heart skipped a beat when he spoke your name. All of a sudden, the room went so still one could have heard a needle drop.

“Will you do me the honour and become my wife? Let me be yours as you will be mine and let us fill this house with nothing but love and harmony.” You never realised there were tears swimming in your eyes—not until they rolled down your cheeks and wetted the fabric of the thin crimson mask you were wearing.

“Yes!” You cried out. “Yes!” Thomas smiled. As the party guests started to clap around you with Ah’s and Oh’s, he scooped you up into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

“And tomorrow morning…” He whispered into your ear, “I shall buy you the most beautiful engagement ring that England has to offer.”

“You don’t have to buy me an expensive ring, Thomas. Actually…” Your face lit up. “Now that your workshop is done, would you craft one for me?”

His laugh tore through your heart like a tornado. You were right, of course—a hand-crafted engagement ring would be more personal and precious than anything a jeweller could make.

“Did I tell you that I love you?”

“Many, many times. And I love you too. More than anything.”

Your audience cheered even louder when you kissed once more, hugging so tightly not even a thin piece of parchment would have had any space between you.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe fluff #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe imagine #sir thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe x you #sir thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak #crimson peak imagine #tom hiddleston

320 notes · View notes

downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

High as a Kite

After a stressful case reader unwinds in her own unique way, unfortunately, the BAU is called in on another case. Spencer doesn’t seem too fond of the reader’s stress reliever.

A/N: This is very poorly edited. I just got into a massive fight with a few friends. So now I’m very sad, and just wanna sleep. But fuck them. Like that one vine says, I don’t need friends, they disappoint me. Seriously, FUCK THEM. I still love them doe, i have too, they’re the only friends i have.

Oh also, I wrote this in first person, instead of my usual second person. Let me know if you like it or not! <3

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: (Unprotected)Penetrative Sex, a DASH of angst, drug use, let me know if I missed anything.

“He rarely smoked, but once in a while, like now, when his world had been shaken, his woman nearly killed in front of his eyes, and he’d watched a house consume a man and spit him out, he figured a drag or two were appropriate.”

― Christine Feehan, Safe Harbor

Relaxing after a case was one of my favorite things on the planet. Especially when it ended well, I had been able to watch as the little girl who had been stolen from her family, ran to her parents, her little arms wrapping around their legs. Seeing the love and adoration in the parent's eyes as the wept and held her made me want to have a child of my own.

Spencer and I had been together for a little over a year, but I doubt either of us are ready for children. Our job alone is stressful enough, in fact, it’s how we met. I worked as a technical analyst under Penelope Garcia. I will say my job wasn’t as strenuous as Spencer’s, but it’s not exactly ideal to look at dead bodies all day.

We all have our own peculiar ways of unwinding, Spencer loves to sit and read a few books, Hotch heads home to spend time with Jack, and Emily is always down for a drink. I, on the other hand, would much rather smoke a bowl than read a book. It was my own way of unwinding and allowing my brain to cleanse itself of the horrors of the world.

My pink pipe was packed with weed, a matte black lighter in my hand. The weed burned in the small bowl, crisping to a dark black. My finger released the carb of the pipe a couple of times, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs.

The haunting voice of Lana Del Rey filled the room. Her voice alone is smooth as honey, but listening to her while high is an ethereal experience. I could only imagine what Spencer would do if he could see me now, probably ramble off the statistics of marijuana addiction. But I could definitely say I wasn’t addicted, it was just an easy way to relax.

I took another hit, watching as the smoke tumbled from my lips. My stomach rumbled, causing me to giggle lightly, here come the munchies. Usually, I didn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but when I’m high I can’t get enough sugar.

My hands pulled open the pantry, hips swaying lightly to the music.

Suddenly the music was gone, replaced by an annoying buzzing, “Ugh, you’re fucking kidding.” I groaned. I let the pantry fall shut, making my way over to where my phone sat. I had an inkling who was calling me, but every ounce of my body was praying I was wrong. Unfortunately, I was not, as I had one text from Hotch and a missed call from Spencer.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my hand, Spencer’s name illuminating the phone. Quickly I answered the call, pulling the phone up to my ear. “Hiya Spence.”

“You get the call?” Spencer questioned, his voice cracking slightly, it was obvious he hadn’t used it in a while. He had probably been reading ever since he got home.

I giggled lightly at the sound of Spencer’s voice, taking a moment to admire the perfect way it croaked. “Mhm, can you pick me up?”

There was no immediate response, it was obvious there was something off, Spencer could tell. I never asked him to drive me anywhere, I was always the one driving. Especially due to Spencer’s hatred of automobiles.

“But don’t you usually pick me up?” he questioned.

“Spencer, that last case… I’m literally the definition of exhaustion, can you please, just this once?” I was hoping that with the use of his full first name, he would understand the seriousness of my question. There was no way I was driving to work, with Spencer in the car, while high.

Speaking of, I still had zero idea how I was going to act sober in a room of profilers, granted, I had a lot of practice of acting sober in front of people, just not at work. Unfortunately for me, the best two words to describe myself while high were, giggly and horny. Oh, and hungry, who doesn’t get the munchies?

Spencer sighed on the other end of the line, “Of course, Y/N.” He paused for a moment, a slight hesitation in his voice with his next words. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Oh, totally, the case just got to me, that's all!” My reply was all but convincing, it didn’t help the awkward silence made me giggle, which I quickly stifled with my hand. But to Spencer, I’m sure it sounded like a muffled sob. At least he’d buy it, right?

…

I hopped into the car, looking too giddy to be dealing with another case, “hey.”

Spencer turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his tongue peeking out between his pink lips. “Y/N are you sure you’re okay?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully glaring at Spencer, “yes, now drive, baby.” I reached out, grabbing the gear shift, and shifting the car into drive.

The car rolled slightly before a startled Spencer slammed his foot on the brake, “Y/N what the- my foot wasn’t even on the brake! Do you know how many accidents are caused a year due to pedal error? Sixteen thousand, and that’s just in the U.S.”

I know it was inappropriate, but during the whole lecture he was giving me I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his hands. They were so perfect, long and thick, the number of times that I’ve come undone on those hands is immeasurable. I shifted in my seat before meeting his eyes. Honestly, I hadn’t comprehended a word he said, something about cars?

Spencer shifted the car back into park, turning in his seat to lean towards me. His eyes scanned me up and down, and not in a good way. “You’re acting strange. You’re overly bubbly, especially considering we have another case. You aren’t thinking rationally-”

A gasp left my body once I realized what he was doing, “Spencer Walter Reid, are you profiling me? We agreed not to do that!”

Despite my yelling he kept speaking “and you were too focused on the movement of my hands to retain a single word I told you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“Spencer, what the fuck are you-ow!” A blinding light clouded my vision, causing me to recoil further into my seat.

A scoff left Spencer’s mouth as he turned off the flashlight. “You’re high,” he stated, “what did you take?”

“I’m not-” I quickly stopped my sentence once I saw the glare Spencer was sending me. “Okay, I just smoked a little weed. Seriously, it wasn’t a lot.”

Spencer unlocked his phone, pressing a few buttons before opening the “W-what are you doing?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

“Calling Hotch” Spencer replied, his voice even yet stern. It was somehow scarier than his occasional outburst.

“What? No, Spencer!” I reached over the console, latching my hands onto his phone, before pulling back. Sadly, the phone stayed rooted in his large hands, and with a swift tug, he had the phone back in his grasp.

Spencer glared harsh daggers at me, before looking back down, and continuing to type on the phone. “Y/N, you’ve already pushed me far enough. Sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

I fell back into my seat, pouting and crossing my arms childishly. The faint sound of ringing broke the silence, stopped by the barely audible voice of Hotch over the phone.

“Hotch, Y/N can’t come in, she’s sick. I think she has a fever.” The lie tumbled easily out of his lips.

My head whipped towards him, my eyebrows raised in amusement. “Thanks, I will.” Spencer ended the conversation, this time setting his phone in the cupholder in the console.

I giggled lightly, “what would I do without you to save my ass?”

He didn’t respond, instead putting the car in drive, this time with his foot on the brake. Silence filled the car, Spencer opting to focus on the road, and me fidgeting with the hem of my skirt.

“Spencie, are you mad at me?” I asked, resting an elbow on the console between us.

It was obvious he was frustrated, I would be too, but how was I supposed to know we’d get called in on a case? “Yes, Y/N” he answered, his words punctuated and his jaw clenching, accentuating his razor-sharp jawline.

There was something about angry Spencer that sent shockwaves to my core, leaving me squirming against the leather of the car. Eh, what the hell, might as well go for it, I can just blame it on the cannabis.

My arm reached across the console, my hand landing on the top of Spencer’s thigh. I watched him visibly jump at my touch, he obviously wasn’t expecting it. “Are you sure it’s just anger?”

He sighed loudly, one of his hands leaving the steering wheel to remove my own from his leg.

…

“Please Spencer, just really quick? It’d help you relieve some stress!” I cried as I walked through the door.

Another angry sigh left Spencer’s mouth, he seemed to be doing that a lot. “Y/N, you’re under the influence, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

I almost laughed at his statement, it was perfectly logical of him to think that, and utterly sweet. But he was my boyfriend, my love, I would fuck him in whatever state I’m in. “Spence, I can promise you you’re not taking advantage of me. We’ve had sex countless times, I’d have sex with you even if I was sober, have you seen you?” I paused for a moment before adding onto my sentence, breaking the slight tension with humor, “yourself, not you, that doesn’t sound right.”

Spencer chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes as he reached for his belt. “Hell yes!” I cried as I began to undo the buttons of my blouse, quickly shedding it. I could’ve just left the blouse on, but Spencer was a tits man through and through.

As soon as I heard the clinking of his belt colliding with the floor, I ambushed him, immediately letting my lips find his. The kiss wasn’t rough, nor was it gentle, it was somewhere in between, a perfect balance. I pulled away, biting down lightly on Spencer’s bottom lip.

My hand slipped into his unzipped pants, palming him lightly. It was the most heavenly sight on earth to watch his head fall back, and a low moan tumble from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N”

Nodding my head I giggled, “yes, please fuck Y/N.”

Spencer tilted his head back up, laughing lightly at my comment.

I pulled away from him, grabbing the hem of my skirt and shimmying it up over my hips. Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a look of amusement on his face. “Please” I begged.

“Alright, turn around, over the table,” Spencer commanded, his voice low and demanding.

A giggle passed my lips as I turned around, making my way over to the table. My top half pressed against the table, my body resting against my forearms. I could hear Spencer’s footsteps as he crossed the room, stopping behind me. His large hands wrapped around my hips, pushing my skirt higher up my body. “Do you know how irresponsible it was of you to try and come into work while under the influence?”

His hand left my hip coming back down onto my backside, the impact causing me to cry out. “Spencer!”

His hand raked up my side, grabbing a fist full of my hair. “I-I didn’t have a choice.” I stuttered out as one of his fingers hooked onto my underwear, pulling them to the side.

“You did have a choice, you chose not to inform Hotch, leaving me to save your ass. Do you understand how detrimental the consequences could’ve been if something were to go wrong?” Spencer’s fingers ran through my folds, spreading around my arousal.

“Fuck” I moaned out, using my forearms to push myself back against his hand. “Better hurry this up, Spence, we don’t have long.” Spencer shuffled behind me before I felt the head of his cock brush against my core. “Fine, if you’re so impatient.” He grunted, pulling back on my hair, and pushing his cock into my folds.

He was quick to set a rough pace, pulling out and pushing back in, using the hand in my hair as leverage to pull me back in time with his thrusts. “Yes, Spencer, fuck,” I groaned out.

“You know,” Spencer started, pausing to roughly thrust into me, sending my body forward against the table, the edge digging into my thighs. “If you wanted a stress reliever, you could’ve come to me. Sex releases endorphins and other hormones, the same way exercise does. Particularly, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the “love hormone.”

I moaned against the table, my body beginning to falter as my orgasm approached. “Fuck, Spencer, mhmm, yes.”

With every thrust, I could feel the strain of Spencer yanking my hair back, which would definitely leave a crick in my neck. But I was enjoying myself too much to tell him to stop. I could practically feel Spencer’s anger with every obscene smack of our sweaty skin. It was what I was hoping for, a good fuck, and for Spencer to be able to release his anger before heading back to the BAU.

Surprisingly, Spencer released his vice grip on my hair, easing the tension on my neck, allowing my face to fall forward and my cheek to squish against the table. He planted his forearm beside my head, leaning over me so his chest was pressed against my back. “How good would you feel if I allowed you to come right now?” To add to the pleasure, Spencer’s hand resting on my hip wormed its way around my body, two of his long digits beginning to rub circles around my swollen bud.

A sob racked my body at the added pleasure, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I could feel my legs starting to tremble as I held back my release, almost as if my body knew I couldn’t let go until he gave me permission. “Please, please?” I begged.

“Say it. Promise me you’ll come to me next time you need to relieve stress.” Spencer growled, his voice cracking, signaling he was close too.

The desperate sounds of our moans and the musty smell of sex filled the room, drowning out my senses. I was too lost in the euphoria to reply, instead, I deliriously rutted my hips back as an attempt to feel him deeper.

Spencer let out a groan before burying his head deep in the crook of my neck, moaning out “promise me, Y/N.”

“I promise, fuck, please, Spencer?” The words tumbled almost incoherently out of my lips, barely comprehensible.

Nodding his head against my skin, he placed an open-mouthed kiss to my neck before moaning out “come, come with me Y/N.”

And just like that, I was sent headfirst into a trembling, teeth-clenching orgasm. My back arched, uncomfortably pressing my breasts even further against the table. My vision went white, and my legs threatened to collapse. Spencer had stilled, burying his cock deep in my cunt, lewdly moaning out my name, and a series of various curses. An unfamiliar warmth coursed through my body as he filled me up with his seed. Leaving me to grin like a Cheshire cat, caked in sweat.

The two of us laid against the table, deep pants leaving both our mouths. Spencer pulled out, tucking himself back in his pants. “Thank you” I giggled, pushing myself up from the table, and shuffling my skirt back down my legs.

When I turned around I was met with the sight of a sweaty Spencer, running his hands through his tousled hair. “You look fine, Spence.”

I could tell Spencer was trying his hardest to contain his smile, probably wanting to stay mad at me. But as soon as his eyes met mine, his face broke into a soft smile, my own following suit. I took a step forward, wrapping my arms around his torso, and letting my head rest against his chest. “I love you” I murmured against his shirt.

His arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to him, “I love you too” he replied, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Okay, I have to go,” Spencer said, letting his arms fall back to his side.

I pulled back, unwrapping my arms from his body. “Don’t forget your belt,” I nodded towards his belt that was left discarded on the floor in the midst of our frenzy.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N, remember?” Spencer joked, snatching his belt from the floor, and looping it back through his pants.

Rolling my eyes with a laugh I replied, “that doesn’t mean things can’t slip your mind, Spence.”

“Actually-” he started.

I cut him off by opening the front door, “bye, have fun, I love you!”

Spencer laughed, pecking me on the lips before heading out the door, looking over his shoulder to call out, “we’ll talk more about this later, Y/N. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

“Shit.” I groaned, letting the door fall shut.

Taglist: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @garcias-batcave

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

636 notes · View notes