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wosoamazing · 2 months

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Nursery & Sickness

Summary: You don't want to go to nursery. You also get sick from Nursery, making your Mum sick too. Based off this request.

Warnings: Sickness (Vomiting)

A/N: I was kind of stumped on what to write so of course I turned it into a sickfic - I hope that is okay. I promise I am trying to write things other than sickfics, some of your requests are definitely helping with that.

You didn't want to go to Nursery, you wanted to go to training as you always did, but you didn't understand why you couldn’t. Once you realised your Mum was leading you in the direction of your nursery you planted your feet firmly on the ground, refusing to walk, she just picked you up, not budging at your actions.

As she placed you down in your room, you started to cry, you didn't want to leave her side. “I’ve got to go to training Bubba, so you’re going to spend the day here, and I’ll be back to pick you up as soon as training is over”

“No, I come training with you”

“But Bubba you can’t, it's better for you to go to Nursery, and you can still come to games, I promise I will be back to pick you up.”

“No go,” you sobbed.

“I have to, what if we read a book together before I go?” You sadly nodded your head and went over to pick a book, while you Mum sat crossed legged on the floor. You chose a book and walked over to her, before walking backwards into her lap and sitting down, she read you the book and you calmed down, enough so that she didn’t feel guilty to leave you.

When she came back to pick you up, you had a huge grin on your face and you were in the middle of a painting activity, you didn't want to leave. So she helped you finish your painting before you both went home, in the car you told her about your amazing day. She was relieved that you had enjoyed, so much so that you asked when you were getting to go back

_____

Leah expected you to be sad and upset the first time she took you to Nursery, but what she didn’t expect was that you would have a new illness every week, the experienced nursery parents told her that this was normal, and would happen for roughly 2 or 3 months than you would just get like the seasonal flu, and if you moved Nurseries it would happen all over again, Leah took a mental note of that and promised herself she would not move you to a different Nursery. Heaps of the more experienced parents told her that this would happen for the first 2 or 3 months than you would be fine, so she just had to get through it.

_____

Today was game day, which you were excited for, it meant you didn’t have to go to Nursery, however you felt funny, your head kind of hurt and your tummy felt icky, but you didn’t tell your Mum, you didn’t want her to make you stay home.

You slept in the car on the way to the game, which wasn’t a rare occurrence, considering it was a late game. When you were offered your snacks to eat before the game started you shook your head, which your Mum found odd as it was an offer you would always jump at. You fell asleep very quickly into the first half and slept the whole way through the game. Only waking up when Katie turned on the TV to see the men play as she waited for Caitlin to finish getting ready. The loud noise of the fans cheering through the TV radiated through your head and you started crying.

“What’s wrong Bubba?” Your Mum asked, snapping her fingers in Katie’s direction, who quickly turned down the volume.

“Icky,” you cried out.

“Oh Bubba, do you feel sick?” she asked as she felt your forehead, which was quite warm. You nodded in reply.

“Okay, well I’ll just get our stuff all packed up and then we can go okay, I love you,” she said, placing a kiss on your forehead. She was walking around the locker room, gathering all your things when the sound of liquid spilling onto the floor echoed around the locker room. She quickly spun around to see you covered in vomit, with a puddle of vomit in front of you. She quickly moved over to you and moved you out of the way of your puddle of vomit, tears started to roll down your cheeks, as she went to look over to Katie to ask something, but Katie had already left the room and there is no one else in the room, they all have already left or the ones that remain are in the showers.

Your Mum takes off your Shirt and Shorts, and uses a wet wipe to wipe your hands and face, before she starts getting you changed into your spare clothes. As she is smoothing down your hair that was messed up by your shirt, you gag, she looks around the room panicked trying to figure out what she can grab, when she sees Katie walk in who quickly chucks her a sick bowl. She places the sick bowl under your chin just in time as you start throwing up again. Caitlin, Steph, Lia and Kim have all now finished their showers and walk into the room, to see the absolute scene in front of them. Your Mum is kneeling beside you rubbing your back as you throw up into the sick bowl she is holding for you, there is a puddle of vomit nearby and a bag with your vomit cover clothes in it, sitting near you, that has yet to be tied up.

“Do you need any help Leah?” Kim asks.

“No, no it’s all good, you guys just go, have a good night,” Leah responds, they all quickly gather their things and head out, except for one, who is rushing around behind your Mum, gathering all your belongings. She has finished packing all three of your bags and walks over to where the bag with your dirty clothes sits, your Mum jumps slightly not realising there was still someone in the room with her, she looks up to find it is Lia, her heart melting slightly at the kindness of her best friend.

“Lia, you really didn't need to stay behind,” she looks behind her, “Or pack up any of our stuff.”

“Don’t be silly Leah, I’ll just take these things out to the car and then I’ll come back for you and Y/N/N, and before you say you are fine to drive home, we drove here together.” Your Mum’s face cringed, she had totally forgotten that.

When Lia came back in you were sitting in your Mum’s lap, as she held you close, rocking you backwards and forwards.

“Le,” Lia said softly, your Mum looked up, “I’m ready when you are.” Your Mum got up and headed to the car, you threw up a lot more that night. The worst being when you had just gotten home, you were in your Mum’s arms, meaning it was all over you and her.

____

It had been a day since you last threw up, but you still felt icky so you were sleeping in your Mum’s bed, between her and Lia. Lia had insisted she stayed to help look after you.

“Fuck, Lia, can you hand me a sick bowl?” Your Mum asked.

“Yeah, but why, Y/N/N is asleep. Or have your Mum senses started tingling,” Lia joked as she handed the sick bowl to your Mum, who lent her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, taking some deep breaths, Lia quickly clicked on to what was happening. She carefully and gently picked you up and quickly walked to your room, knowing Leah would be more comfortable if you weren’t there, she placed you on your bed before returning to the room. She climbed into the bed and sat next to your Mum, placing her hand on your Mum’s thigh, gently reassuring her, knowing that your Mum wouldn't want much physical touch currently. They remained like that for a few minutes before your Mum’s upper body jerked forward and she lost the contents of her stomach into the sick bowl, Lia rubbed her back whilst she softly spoke reassuring words to her.

____

You awoke in your bed feeling much better, but you wanted your Mum so you decided to toddle off down the hall and into her room, you saw her with Lia in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as Lia rubbed her back, you walked into the bathroom.

“Mummy?” You questioned, slightly worried.

“Mummy is sick, I think she got your sick. Are you feeling better?" you nodded your head, "Thats good," Lia said before she moved her free hand to your Mums shoulder and gently squeezed it, your Mum shook her head slightly and Lia murmured a quiet 'okay' before she turned her gaze back to you. "Why don’t you go out to the living room and I’ll join you in a sec,” you nodded and toddled off.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader #leah williamson x reader

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giddyfatherchris · 2 months

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I can't sleep

pairing: bang chan x reader

type: not requested

warnings: none, pure fluff baby

word count: 1k

requests: open for stray kids and bts

a/n: i thought of this when i had an insomnia episode for a few weeks and it always helped make me feel better, i hope it does the same for any night owl out there xxx

summary: the reader cannot find sleep, but instead finds comfort in the arms of her sweet sweet sweet partner

You awoke for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Eyes wide open, a little hot, and completely lucid. You stared at the ceiling, praying you would fall back asleep, but nothing.

Lately, you felt like a broken record. Almost every night, you would have the weirdest dreams and wake up every hour, struggling to get back to sleep. You would either end up on the couch reading a book or stay in bed trying every trick to reach a peaceful slumber once more.

Some nights, Chan was right by your side, and you cursed him for being asleep while you weren't. Of course, you immediately chased the thought from your brain every time. You knew how much sleep evaded him. The rare nights he could get were a blessing, and you would be a horrible person if you ever were mad at him for recuperating all his missing hours.

You checked your phone, hoping the time on your device would be decent enough for you to get up. You let out a growl of disappointment when you saw the numbers 3, 1, and 0 flash on the screen. You couldn’t help a spasm of frustration only to stop the motion dead in your tracks. You winced, praying you didn’t wake Chan up. After a few seconds of statuesque immobility, you realized your Aussie boyfriend was not in bed. You patted the blankets, searching for his muscular frame, but found nothing. You sat up and noticed the door ajar with a feeble light filtering through the crack.

You got out of bed, not before wrapping yourself properly like a burrito, and went out. Unsurprisingly, you found Chan in his office, gaze focused on the screen before his eyes. His hair was disheveled beneath the hood of his sweater. He wore his favorite pair of sweatpants and looked cozy as all hell. It seemed you weren’t the only one sleep eluded tonight.

You observed him for a few seconds, admired his handsome features, and marveled at his concentration. You felt your heart flutter with love for the man before you, gently humming to some mysterious song only he knew about. You shuffled to him, attracting his attention.

"Oh, hey baby. I didn’t know you were awake." he smiled at you like you were the best thing in the world, and you felt a herd of butterflies take control of your stomach but pouted at the mention of your insomnia.

"I think I caught your illness," you whined with your lower lip deep set in a pout. "I can't sleep well lately." He looked at your moody expression with a small smile illuminating his bare face. God, you were cute.

"Poor baby," he cooed, "I'm sorry to hear that." He opened his arms, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You did so happily, sitting on his thighs and facing him like a koala. He stroked your back and held you tight.

"I'm sorry for saying I caught your illness. I feel so guilty telling you I can't sleep knowing you've been dealing with insomnia your whole life. I sound like a bratty kid, I'm sorry," you mumbled on his clothed shoulder.

He pulled back enough to meet your face. "Hey, I never said anything like that and didn't even think it. I get how frustrating it can be. As you said, I can't even remember a time when I didn't have insomnia. I'm so used to it that I don't really care anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't show you compassion for going through something similar. Okay? So I don't want to hear anything more about feeling guilty."

You nodded shyly before letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"My beautiful angel", he whispered while kissing the side of your head, just above your ear. You nuzzled in the crook of his neck, took a deep breath, and inhaled his familiar scent, appreciating the calming effect it always had on you.

You finally looked at his screen, wondering what he was working on. As usual, when Chan couldn’t sleep he used that time to work. He figured at a young age that if he couldn't use the late hours of the night to rest, he might as well put that free time to good use. He quickly explained the new song he was working on, inspiration striking in the dead of the night. You nodded appreciatively before settling your forehead on his chest.

You stayed like that for a little while, hoping sleep would find you, as it sometimes happened when you were cuddling with Chan, but nothing. Not the faintest sign of sleepiness.

"You really can’t sleep, uh?" he asked when you wiggled on his lap for the third time. He also hoped the cuddles would have lulled you to sleep as it usually did, and wondered if he had lost some of his effect on you.

You sighed deeply, "I don't know what's happening to me."

He sat back in his chair, hands on your thighs, to face you. He gently lifted his hands to cup your cheeks. You leaned into the touch and almost started purring like a kitten when he stroked the side of your face.

"I think it’s time we use the big guns," he suggested magnanimously.

He carried you to the couch and gently laid you down before disappearing. You heard him rummaging in the kitchen for a little while before he returned with two steaming cups of tea.

"First, a little chamomile tea. It helps to relax and fall asleep." He smiled before handing you the cup. "Careful, it's very hot."

He disappeared again and reappeared with more blankets, his Wolfchan plush you loved, and his laptop in one hand.

"What are we doing?" you stared curiously at him, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the remote.

"Now, we put on one of your favorite movies, and you just relax. I have to finish this tiny thing for work, and then we can cuddle. Does that sound good?"

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you looked at your oh-so-caring boyfriend. You grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. You loved the way his lips just seemed to fit perfectly with yours. Once you pulled back, he seemed a little dazed but stared at you adoringly.

"Woah, what did I do to deserve that?" he whispered, gaze still going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

"Oh, not much. Just being the best boyfriend on earth."

He smiled shyly and kissed your forehead before putting the movie on play.

You cuddled into his side, lightly playing with his free hand. You watched the first movie, sipping on your comforting cup of tea while he worked. Once done, you watched another together until sleep finally graced the both of you with its peaceful embrace.

#ilya writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenario #christopher bang

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maidragoste · 5 months

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was your meme w the daemon au about the oneshot where she married him to avoid marrying viserys? because i would LOVE to know how people reacted when daemon (i assume it would be daemon) sends a message to viserys - 🩵

Hi Anon 💖, sorry for the delay in responding but I was actually writing something totally different but I saw your question and Viserys' reaction came to mind so I started writing haha

btw, I thought this would be shorter

I hope you enjoy it 🥰🥰💖💖

I recommend people read "The Decision" first to better understand this

At first, when barely an hour had passed since you had disappeared on the back of your dragon, your family had not worried, thinking that perhaps you had lost track of time while flying. It wouldn't be the first time that happens. But then it got dark and you still didn't show up. The worst thing was that Viserys wanted to dine with you in his chambers. Corlys excused your absence by sending your maid to tell the King that you were feeling ill. Rhaenys was furious with her husband for not telling Viserys that you were missing, if the king asked for it then everyone would look for you but Corlys didn't seem to care about your safety, he seemed more worried that Viserys would think that you had escaped to avoid marrying him. Of course, your father couldn't hide your absence for long. Somehow Otto Hightower had found out about your disappearance and reported it to the king.

The next day the entire council was gathered and the king's fury at having been kept secret from the disappearance of his fiancée was evident. Rhaenyra listened worriedly as her father asked Lord Velaryon for explanations. She feared that you had made a drastic decision to run away, her heart ached just thinking that you had left without saying goodbye first.

Corlys didn't even have the chance to excuse himself and make up some story about actually knowing your whereabouts when a maester interrupted the room. The Grand Master was already about to scold him when the youngest reported that a letter had arrived with the seal of House Targaryen. Viserys instantly ordered the parchment to be given to him, knowing that it must be a letter from his brother.

Everyone watched in silence as the king's face became redder and redder as he read the parchment. “Daemon took her as his second wife,” he announced as he twisted the letter into a bun in annoyance.

Rhaenyra felt her heart skip a beat and had to hold onto the table to keep from losing her balance. You were supposed to run away or find a way to break off the engagement, not get married. The worst thing is that you married her uncle. It was unfair that he could have you but she couldn't. If only she had been brave enough to tell you how she felt but she was a coward and she settled for your friendship. She settled for pretending that you were hers every time the two of you walked hand in hand through the hallways or when she exchanged her rings with yours as if it were some declaration of love.

“Poor Lady Y/n, Prince Daemon surely took advantage of her,” said the king's hand with mock regret. Corlys was not blind like Viserys so he could see how Otto Hightower was forcing himself not to smile. He should be the only attempt with this situation, now with you out of the way he could push his daughter Alicent again so that she could get the king's attention and thus make her queen.

“You can annul their marriage,” said the princess, drawing everyone's attention to the obvious desperation and pain in her voice. Years later, different versions of the reason for Rhaenyra's despair circulated in history books. Some would say it was because she was in love with her uncle. Others would say that you were actually the owner of her affections.

“The king can no longer marry Lady Y/n. Not now that Prince Daemon…”Lyonel Strong trailed off, trying to think of a not-so-shocking word to finish with.

“He ruined her,” Otto continued.

“You're talking about my daughter, watch your mouth!” Corlys demanded furiously, hitting his palm against the table. Lyonel had wanted to avoid exactly this.

Rhaenyra also glared at the king's hand. She hated that he had used that word to describe you but I can't help but think that maybe it was better that the lords thought that of you because then they wouldn't want to marry you. Her father would annul your marriage, you would come home to her and she would never have to worry about someone else trying to steal you from her.

“They married under Valyrian customs. It may not be valid in the eyes of faith but in my eyes, it is” declared the king. Besides, he wasn't going to annul your marriage and then marry you. It would be humiliating. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a wife who didn't love him. You had made it more than clear in the letter. He couldn't be mad at you, not when you had apologized for not telling him how you really felt sooner, had told him that you appreciated him but couldn't imagine loving him the way you love his brother, and that you thought he deserved a wife who truly loved him. Still, he was furious with his brother because he had taken advantage of you, it didn't matter that in the letter you said that Daemon didn't force you into anything and that it was your decision to marry, Viserys was sure that Daemon didn't love you, that he had only taken you as a wife to annoy him, as revenge for making Rhaenyra his heir.

“I am very sorry for my daughter's actions, your Grace,” Corlys apologized almost through his teeth. He was furious with Viserys for being so weak. Another man would have instantly annulled the marriage and gone to find his bride but he was not surprised by the king's attitude considering that he had been more interested in planning the wedding than in putting an action plan for the situation that was occurring on the Stepstones

He was so furious with you too. If before Viserys was not interested in the Stepstones, now with you breaking your engagement even less so. He couldn't believe you did this to him. He thought he raised you better. You could have made the Velaryons go down in history by giving the king a son but you ruined everything.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

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hells-wasabii · 2 months

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So I came down with Covid yesterday :(

I was seeing if you were open to do one with Alastor and a sick reader? I don’t do requests often, this is so new to me💕❤️

Hi! I hope you’re feeling better by the time you read this! Covid isn’t fun at ALL, but I hope you enjoy the read!

Character: Alastor

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Alastor x sick!reader, Fluff)

Alastor as a caretaker would honestly be a sight to behold. And he’s surprisingly good at it? Then again whenever his mother would fall ill he was right there to nurse her back to health, so he’s got a little bit of experience in that department.

Speaking of his mother, he would go out of his way to cook something for you, more specifically soups and the like that she would make for him when he was sick. Something full of nutrients to help you get back on your feet. When he would get sick as a child he had his mother to rely on, and now, you would have him. You were his partner after all. He couldn’t just leave you in such a state.

He would personally oversee that you’re well taken care of. Whether it be fresh linens for your bed or water to drink should you wake up thirsty. Whatever you needed, he would have it to you just as quickly as he could. It was odd seeing him so… nurturing, but then again the radio demon did have a habit of showing you sides of him that the rest of hell would never see.

You were sick, there was no doubt about that. You had been for nearly two days now. The first day hadn’t been that bad, at least at first. You didn’t even know it was possible to get sick in hell, and yet here you were, laid up in bed recovering from one of the worst fevers you’d ever experienced. It made you wonder if hell had some sort of super-flu or something of the like

It had quickly escalated to the point that it felt as if you could feel your bones. The second day you had spent much of asleep, a fact that had been a small relief on your aching body. That is until the fitful fever dreams came along. Oddly enough you found yourself trying to solve puzzles as a means to break the fever. It never worked.

The only thing that really kept you grounded when you were conscious had been the chills that left your muscles aching. Of course, you knew that sickness couldn’t kill you in hell, especially not a sinner, but by god did it feel like you were dying.

Everything had been a haze up until a couple of hours ago.

You had already decided by that point that the only thing worse than actually being in hell was being sick as hell in hell. But you did count yourself lucky, you did have one hell of a caretaker, after all. Groggily you opened your eyes to look over at the demon reading in the plush armchair in the corner of your room. You’re not sure how exactly he knew that you were awake, but the radio demon lifted his gaze to meet yours not even moments later. You noticed his smile softened just a bit before he spoke.

“Glad to see you’re awake, darling.” The radio demon said gently, sliding a bookmark between the pages of his book and setting it down on the seat of the chair as he got up. “Give me a moment to fetch you something to eat, I imagine you’re quite famished. I’ve prepared a soup I know you’re just going to love, my mother's recipe!”

The soft lull of a radio playing music from your bedside table met your ears. You thought you could recognize that song, you were sure it was one you had heard Alastor humming before. It brought a smile to your lips. You decided that you quite liked that song, as well.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor

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cheapshrimpysheep · 9 months

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Taking Care of You - Younger Demon Brothers

This is the continuation of Taking Care of You - Older Demon Brothers

SUMMARY: What would a week with them taking care of you be like when you are sick? They taking turns to each take care of you for an entire day.

CHARACTERS: Younger Demon Brothers (Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader, Kissing, Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 980 words per character. A total of 3.950 words. (in this part)

COMMENTS: This was supposed to be shorter. So much so that this was supposed to be a post with all 7 demon brothers. But I think I got too inspired and ended up writing a lot, so I decided to separate it into two parts: the first with the 3 older brothers and the second with the 4 younger brothers.

I hope you enjoy ;)

CONTEXT: This is the continuation of Taking Care of You - Older Demon Brothers

This happens in the original time line, not in the Nightbringer one. So, you live with the Brothers in the House of Lamentation.

You got too sick to go to RAD. You need to rest in your room. Fortunately, it's a human exclusive illness, which means it doesn't affect demons whatsoever. So they can take care of you without any problems. The doctor said you would have to rest for a week, so everyone will take turns taking care of you for a day.

Shortly after midnight you receive a message from Satan: “Today it's my turn to take care of you. If you need anything, even if it's in the middle of the night, just let me know. I'll stay with you all night if you need me.”

You take this chance to ask him if sleeping with you counts, and he responds to you with, "Of course. I'll bring a new book I bought that I think you'll like. I can read it to you if you want.”

A few minutes later Satan knocks on your door and you let him in. To your surprise, not only does he bring a book with him, he also has a cup of tea. He sits on the bed next to you. “I've been reading about your illness and found this tea that can help you sleep better and soothe any aches and pains you may have. Do you want to try it?”

You sit on the bed and accept the tea. Maybe it's not the kind of flavour you like the most, but after drinking it you feel more relaxed. You say that to him and he gives you a sweet smile, glad that he could help you a little.

He shows you the book he brought, it’s a book of trivia. Some Devildom fun facts you can learn while listening to Satan's voice reading them to you in a voice you can fall asleep to.

You give him space to lie in bed with you, and he pulls his arm away so you can lay your head on his chest. He'll use one hand (and if necessary a little magic) to hold the book and turn the pages, while stroking your head with the other. You wish you could have cherished that moment longer, but being there with him was so comfortable, his hand so tender and his voice so soft, you fell asleep in no time.

When you wake up, you see him still by your side, but reading a book that wasn't that trivia one. When he feels you move and realizes you're awake, he places a bookmark you gift him in the book, closes it and sets it down. “Good morning” he says in a whisper and kisses your forehead “Did you sleep well?” You show him that you did, either in words or in murmurs as you smile at him.

You two snuggle for a bit. “Don't you want breakfast?” he asks you. You say yes, but that it’s very good to be with him like that. He chuckles “Don't worry, I can stay like this with you all day if you want. “But we should eat something. Especially you.” you agree in a murmur, he gives you one more kiss on the forehead and gets up from the bed.

He returns with a tray and the two of you sit at the table in your room. Cat face pancakes! With eyes, nose, mouth and whiskers drawn in chocolate. You tell him how cute they look and kiss him on the cheek. He kisses you on the cheek back and offers to feed you the pancake. You accept if he lets you feed him back.

He won't leave your room if he doesn't have to. If you're awake, he'll chat with you, read books with you, and watch a movie if you want. If you feel able to walk around the house, he can lead you to the Common Room where the fireplace is lit, to snuggle and cuddle with you. And he will try to attract some cats for you two to pet outside. Big chances he'll take a picture of you playing with the cats. Two of the things he loves most together!

If you need to rest and take a nap, he will stay in your room with you, sitting in a chair reading a book, right next to you. And if you let him, he will hold your hand in the meantime. Maybe he'll even ask you if you want to lay your head in his lap. And he can pet your head while you sleep. As he would do with a cat?... Maybe...

At lunch, he’ll cook for you whatever you want. And even if you want something he doesn't know how to cook yet or something complex, he won't deny your request. He will do everything possible to cook the dish you ask for. Even if he has to read and reread every cookbook he can find. Part of that is because he wants to be able to make you happy. The other part is a mixture of pride and stubbornness.

At dinner, it’s his and Asmo’s turn to swap sits at the table with the twins. And that’s okay. He already spent a whole day with you, he can give up that place by your side this time. Lucifer is on the opposite side of you and Mammon and Levi are at your feet.

At night, and before his turn ends, he returns to your room. He sits next to you on the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. You tell him you feel fine, still a little sick, but fine. “I hope it was as pleasant for you to spend the day with me as it was for me to spend it with you.” You tell him it was, and he should make those cat pancakes more often. “For you, of course. But don't tell my brothers about them. I don't want to make those pancakes for anyone else, much less for them.”

“I also wanted to ask you if you would like me to read you some more from that book to help you fall asleep better.” You accept the offer, but this time he can't sleep with you because his turn is running out. So you ask if you can thank him for taking care of you that day, before you fall asleep and he leaves.

“As if I would deny such a request.” he says with a smile. You sit on the bed and kiss his lips. You feel his hands land on your face, as if he's asking you to let the kiss last a little longer.

After you break away from the kiss, you lie back down. He caress your cheek and starts reading that trivia book in that soft voice that makes you fall asleep in no time.

You wake up with a message from Asmo. It’s 00:24am. “Hi hon~ It's your darling's turn to take care of you~! If you're awake, what some company~?” You reply that now you are awake. “*shocked emoji* Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry! Please let me redeem myself. Let me treat you. I have wonderful things to help you sleep and even improve your skin. Please~?” You surrender and tell him he can come to your room.

He knocks at your door, you let him in and he walks in slowly, as if already apologizing. “Hi hon...” he speaks in his softest, cutest voice. “Sowwy~” he goes to your bed and sits next to you “I didn't want to wake you up, but I wanted so much to enjoy these twenty-four hours with you. I brought some of my skincare products. Will you let me take care of your pretty face? It's very relaxing.”

You accept his offer and settle in bed. He didn't want to make you get up to wash your face, so he used a spell he usually uses when he's feeling a little lazy. Allow him to do all your skincare in bed. He massages your face with such gentleness and care that it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again.

When you wake up, you see Asmo sleeping next to you with an eye masks. You know he doesn't like to have his beauty sleep interrupted, but it was time to wake up and you guys need to eat breakfast. So you try to wake him up as sweetly as you can.

You whisper his name in that voice of yours that you know he loves so much. And if that's not enough, you start kissing his cheeks as well. He smiles and takes off his eye mask. He looks at you and then proceeds to attack you with kisses. As if he was thanking you for the best wake-up anyone could give him.

“Good morning~” He says, hugging you on the bed. “How do you feel, hon?”

“Loved” is what you answer him with a smile.

“Awww, you're so cute!” he kisses you again “I'm glad, but do you feel well?” You say yes, still a little sick, but fine. And hungry. “Ha ha, you sounded like Beel now. But I'm also getting hungry. I'll prepare breakfast for us.” he kisses you one more time and get out of bed.

When he returns, he brings out a tray with two plates of rainbow waffles and whipped cream hearts. “(Y/N)! Look! Didn't they look so beautiful? I made them! Am I not so beautifully talented?” The waffles really were beautiful and you tell him so. Before you eat, he asks you to take a picture with them together.

It doesn't matter if you are sick, Asmo can still make you beautiful. He'll give you a spa day at home. He'll even take you to his bathroom for a better experience. He'll use his scented candles, fill the bathtub with bubbles (you can get in in a bathing suit), put on relaxing music, and give you all the spa treatments he knows.

If you fall asleep, no problem. He probably fell asleep in the middle of all this relaxation too.

At lunch, if you feel able to walk around the house, he will take you with him to make lunch together and he will teach you how to make more beautiful dishes. And, of course, take pictures with them.

And since you feel better and the two of you are having fun cooking all those beautiful dishes, you ask Asmo if he would like to make them for dinner for all to see. “That's a great idea!” he says excitedly “We can show them the beautiful things we can do together. But, are you sure you feel well enough to do it?” You say yes, at least for now. “If you start to feel too tired just let me know, I can finish the dishes. Don't try too hard okay? You're still sick after all.”

You two surprise the others with your dinner. Everyone else starts asking about you, if you haven't tried too hard. But you assure them that you are fine and that when you feel tired, Asmo finished the dinner. They also compliment your appearance and especially your skin.

You felt able to eat in the Dining Room, so that's where everyone had dinner. No need for Mammon and Levi eat at your feet. Although Asmo started to use it to tease them and say that maybe they liking to be at your feet, say something. Mammon protests and Levi turns red as a tomato.

Before his day is over, he returns to your room. “Hi hon~ How are you? Feeling better?” You tell him that you are feeling better than you did at the start of the week, but that you’re still not fully healed. You still feel a little jaded. “This means that next week you will be healed, right?” he had a hopeful smile on his face.

You ask him if he misses you at RAD. “Of course I do! It feels like ages waiting for you to get well again. Nobody loves me like you do.” He was making puppy dog eyes at you, a mix of pity and sadness.

You tell him that. for missing you so much and taking such good care of you, he deserves a thank you kiss. His smile lights up his face and he hugs you, both of you sitting on the bed. You start by kissing his cheek, before he sulks a little, impatiently. And then you kiss his lips. It isn’t a lustful kiss, but a loving kiss, showing how much he misses you.

He is sad to have to part from kissing you, but his turn is ending. He gives you a bunch of goodnight kisses before he leaves, almost at midnight. He wanted to be with you as long as possible.

You fell asleep shortly after Asmo left your room. But you woke up a few minutes later, hungry. At that moment, you receive a message from Beel: “I came into the kitchen to get some midnight snacks. Do you want some? If you're awake.” You say yes, that you had just woken up hungry. “Okay, I'll get some more things and go to your room.”

He knocks at the door and you let him in. “I didn't wake you up did I?” he asks you, with a bunch of snacks in his arms “You know, with the message?” You say no, that in fact he even sent the right message at the right time. “I'm glad.” he smiles like a happy Shiba inu “I brought all your favourite snacks. I didn't know which one you wanted.”

With only 10% of what he brought, you were full. Beel ate the rest of the 90% of the snacks.

“Today is my day to take care of you.” he remembers “Is there anything else you need?” You take advantage of his question to ask him if he would like to sleep with you. You would sleep much better with him. He blushes a little. “I always sleep better with you by my side too. I'll just text Belphie to let him know I'm sleeping in your room. He might be worried if he can't find me anywhere.”

He texts his twin and then joins you in bed. However, the bed is a little small for the two of you. You take the liberty of snuggling up to him and resting your head on his chest. He smiles at you, he wanted to snuggle with you too. He puts his arms around you “Goodnight (Y/N)” and feeling protected by him you fall asleep in his arms.

You wake up with Beel's soft lower voice whispering your name. You open your eyes slowly and look at him, slightly sleepy, but you feel like you slept well, and enough. “Good morning” he whispers to you with a cute smile on his face. And before you could say good morning back to him, you heard a snort. His belly.

“Sorry. I'm hungry.” he apologizes, both with his words and his expression. You ask why he hasn't gone for breakfast yet if he was already hungry. “I wanted to have breakfast together with you. And I didn't want you to wake up without me by your side. You're very cute when you're sleeping, you know?”

You smile flattered and thank him for being so thoughtful of you. You tell him that he can go get breakfast for the two of you now, but remind him not to overdo your part. Despite it being Saturday, the other brothers are not at home, because they had to take care of some RAD related things at Diavolo's request.

He returns with two towers of pancakes, one in each hand, and pancake syrup in his coat pocket. He had a huge smile on his face, he loves to eat with you. “I overdid your part, didn't I?” he asks, seeing your surprised face. You say maybe, but surely they must be delicious and he can eat whatever you can't.

Unfortunately, you woke up a little nauseous from your illness, so you ate less than usual, which alarmed Beel a little. “Are the pancakes not good? Did I put too much sugar?” You tell him that he doesn't need to worry, that the pancakes are great and that you would like to eat more, but you can't at the moment because you're nauseous. “I can make more when you feel better if you want. I don't mind.” You ask if he's sure. “Of course. It’ll be hard to resist the urge to eat them right there. But it's to make you happy, so I'll do my best.” You thank him with a passionate kiss on the cheek, which makes him smile even wider. He will gladly feed you if you want.

If at any time during the day you need to get some sleep, he will respect that and not leave your room in case you need something when you wake up.

Fortunately, you feel physically better and he suggests that the two of you take a short walk around the garden to get some air, since you haven't left the house in a week. You will walk hand in hand. If you feel cold, he will give you his coat or hug you. And if you feel tired, even just a little, he will carry you back to your room if you let him.

If at lunch you want his pancakes, he'll make them, if not, he'll make whatever you feel like eating. And at dinner, the usual, since you can already eat with them at the dining room table. And at night, before his day is over, he comes back to your room.

“Your appetite returned at lunch and dinner. I'm glad.” he tells you with his cute smile “How are you feeling?” You tell him that the walk in the garden did you a lot of good, and you thank him for the idea and for taking the walk with you. His smile only grows when hearing that he helped you like that. “I'm glad you're feeling better now. I've been miss you so much.” You tell him that you felt the same way and that you were very happy to spend that day with him, only him.

“Me too. I love Belphie, and spending time with you two, but I like spending time with you like this more.” he sits with you on the bed and hugs you. You take advantage of this to cup his face and kiss him. His kiss is sweet and tender.

He'll stay there with you, holding you, until his twin brother knocks on the door shortly after midnight.

Belphie knocks on your bedroom door and Beel opens it. They talk for a while before Beel bids you both good night and leaves to go to their room.

“You're going to let me sleep with you right?” Belphie says, with that cute little brother smile he uses to get what he wants. “It's been a week since I've only seen you at dinner. And today is already my day to take care of you. So...”

You lie down, giving Belphie space to lie down next to you. As he does and hugs you like you're his favourite pillow, which you probably are. “I've been dreaming about you.” he whispers, sleepy and close to your neck “Which only makes it sadder to wake up without you with me. You really are mean doing that to me, you know?” And in an instant he falls asleep in your arms. And you in his.

When you wake up, he's still fast asleep and clinging to you. You try to wake him up, whispering his name, poking him... But he just complains in sleepy moans. “Belphie, I'm starting to get hungry.” you tell him, what makes him answer: “Then wake me up with a good morning kiss.”

You kiss his forehead, but apparently that's not enough. Then you start kissing his cheek several times until you suddenly stop. He complains lazily and you tell him you can continue after he brings breakfast. “Mmmm... Fine...” And he kisses your cheek before getting up and, somewhat reluctantly, leave your room.

Whatever was the matter at RAD, the others had to go to the Demon Lord's Castle that Sunday to finish things off. And because of that, you're alone with Belphie.

He comes back with a basic breakfast, like toast, but they taste pretty good. Even if you already feel healed, remember that we are talking about the Avatar of Sloth. So, if it's up to him, the two of you will spend all day in bed or on the sofa in the living room, just chilling and cuddling, sleeping or watching something. Or at least, that's how you spend your morning.

At lunch, knowing that you already feel practically healed, he will convince you to cook with him. Especially since cooking alone for two people is a lot more work and doing anything with you is better. At some point while you are cooking he will hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder. But if you still don't feel well enough to cook, don't worry, he'll cook everything if he sees you're still not well.

Since you haven't left the House of Lamentation for a week, he asks if you'd like to spend the afternoon in the garden, under the stars (Since in the Devildoom it was always night). The weather was even nice. You agree, and Belphie gets you a picnic blanket to lie outside. In the middle of the afternoon, if you're hungry, he'll go into the house to get you two some snacks, but only after you convince him with a few kisses.

When the others arrive home, they get worried for not finding you or Belphie anywhere, until Beel decides to look in the garden and finds you two. The others start complaining about Belphie taking you outside, because if you were still sick it could be worst for you. But you explain that you already felt better and that getting some air after spending so much time in bed was doing you a lot of good. Lucifer even praises Belphie for the idea, until Belphie said that Beel had already taken a walk with you the day before which extended Lucifer's praise to him as well.

Dinner felt like the usual with the brothers, but you could tell by their good mood that everyone was very happy that it was the last day you need to stay home and rest. Everything will be back to normal the next day. Even though the next day was a Monday, they were happy.

Like the others, Belphie came to your room before his day of taking care of you was over. “Hi how are you? Completely healed, right?” he asks, and you nod “Great. So where is my compensation?” His compensation? “Yes. I was away from you for a week, I think I deserve an apology for the emotional damage. Oh! And I still took care of you all day today, you even made me wake up in the morning to bring you breakfast, I deserve a reward for that too, don't you think?”

You smile and sigh, gesturing for him to sit on the bed with you. You hug him and start kissing him on the cheek before getting to his lips. He hugs you tighter and leans over to make you lie down on the bed, as he lays down next to you.

After the kiss he continues lying down and hugging you. “You're not going to sleep here again tonight, are you?” you ask him

“Why? Don't tell me you want me to go away?” he says with sad puppy dog eyes. He knows perfectly well that your answer is no. You sigh, and snuggle into him. He gives you a few kisses on your cheek and around your neck, lazy, loving kisses, until you both fall asleep.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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naturesapphic · 30 days

Note

Can you please do alcina having to punish her bratty little but Like her little was very overstimulated please and it's a comfort ending!! THANK YOUUUU

Punishment

Mommy!lady dimitrescu x fem!little!reader

Warnings: spanking, hurt/comfort, soft mommy alcina

“No no no! I don wan baf!” You shouted as you stomped your feet down harshly. You’ve been acting bratty all day and alcina just had about enough of your attitude. She doesn’t understand why you’ve been acting like this but she needs to know why. “Come on princess. Be mommy’s good girl and take a bath. It won’t be long princess I promise.” She said softly as to help you calm down from your tantrum, but that didn’t seem to work. You got one of your rubber duckies and threw one at her chest.

Alcina was surprised at your actions and she didn’t want to be the bad guy but something must be done about your behavior. “That’s it little one.” She snarled and stood up and grabbed you by the arm, leading you to the bedroom the both of you shared. “Over my lap. Now.” She demanded and you shook your head no. “N-no please mommy! I-I’ll be a good girl please!” You begged her and she felt her heart break but you needed to be taught a lesson. “Don’t make me count to three.” She warned and you whimpered as you walked over to her and she bent you over her knee and started spanking you.

She spanked you ten times and made you count each of them. By the end of it you were crying and trying to get off her lap. She laid you on your stomach and went to get a cold washcloth to put on your reddened cheeks. “I’m sorry I had to punish you draga but you have been a very bratty girl today and I had to teach you a lesson. Now please tell mommy what’s going on. Mommy can’t help you if she doesn’t know what’s making you feel this way.” She said softly as she caressed your butt gently in a non sexual way. You couldn’t exactly explain why you were so ill today but you felt like this all day and you didn’t want to be a bratty girl but you just couldn’t help it.

“N-Nu feel good…u-up heres…”. You try to explain to your mommy and she’s trying to understand you. “Do you feel sad or mad?” She asked you and you said both. She thought for a moment more and said “do you feel irritated and feels like nothing is going right?”. You nodded your head and Alcina understood what was going on. You were overstimulated. That’s why you were irritated and restless today. “I understand now baby. It’s okay. Mommy is here. Why don’t we give you a bath right quick and put on our matching pjs on and I can read you some of your favorite books. How about that my little bat?” She asked you and you gently nodded, wanting to do those things and you wanted to be your mommy’s good girl again.

“Good girl.” Alcina said as she put you in the bath and let you play for a while before getting you out and drying you with your favorite fluffy towel. She put you in a little bat onesie and alcina put on her big bat onesie. You giggled happily and hugged her legs indicating that you wanted her to pick you up. She lifted you up in her strong arms and went back into the bedroom and went over to y’all’s book shelf’s to let you pick out your favorite books. Once you selected them, she laid you down on the bed and she got in next to you, letting you lay on top of her breast as she read to you until you fell into a deep sleep. She kissed your forehead gently and covered the both of you up. “Sleep well my little bat. Mommy loves you and she always will.”

A/n: I hope @yourcoolistjennifertillyfan enjoys this and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!

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pensat-i-fet · 9 months

Text

Shared insecurities (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**So I recently got a request to write about the reader being slightly insecure because of being flat chested and that would lead us to some fluff. As a fellow flat-chested gal, I found the idea pretty good. So I hope you like it as well ❤️**

Word count: 2240

Masterlist

Wattpad

"I'm going shopping!"

"Can I come?"

"I'm going with Rachel, sorry".

Rúben pouts, making me laugh.

"Are you buying clothes for our holidays?"

"Of course, everything I have looks terrible all of a sudden so I need to fix that".

"Buy something sexy", he winks and I shake my head.

Something sexy…sure, one actually has to feel sexy in order to look sexy. And I can't say that's the case for me right now. But I try to forget all that when I meet Rachel to go on our shopping trip.

"Hear me out. I know we're not going to travel together but how cute would it be if we both had this matching set? We could be twins on different sides of the world".

I laugh and pick up the clothes she's showing me. Rachel and I have similar taste, so it's not surprising to me I actually really like this set. What we don't have in common is our body shape.

"I don't know, Rach. This top would look great on you but what do I do wearing this?"

"You look hot. That's what you do", she shrugs.

"How?", I say, pointing to my chest.

"What are you even talking about? You wear tops like this all the time even if you don't have much to show. At least you don't have to deal with all I have to show", she says, pointing at her own chest.

"But people like what you have to show. They look at me and wonder if I went through puberty yet".

I leave the top back where it was and move to see other clothes. Of course, Rachel follows me, frowning.

"Has Rúben made a comment about it?"

"About what?"

"About your boobs being small".

"No", I sigh. He's never made me feel like my body isn't good enough or pointed out any flaws. I'm good at doing that myself. I don’t need his help.

"Then where is this coming from?"

"I don't know. Of course I've been insecure about being so flat-chested in the past. But I thought I had made my peace with it. And now all of a sudden it's back. I see all these women with their tiny tops looking so good. Or all the bikini photos on Instagram and…well, then look at myself and it's pretty underwhelming".

"Don't compare yourself to others, please. You're perfect the way you are. And just so you know, it's very uncomfortable sometimes to have bigger boobs like mine. I so wish I had yours many times".

"You don't have to say that to make me feel better but I appreciate it".

"I mean it", and I've known her long enough to know she's saying the truth.

But still, whenever I pick another top or bikini, Rúben's words come back to my mind. "Buy something sexy". Because surely he wants me to be sexy. For him. And yet this is what he gets.

For our holidays, we go to a small Greek island. Tourism here isn't as bad and so we can relax better.

"Take that off", I hear Rúben say and open my eyes to look at him.

"Take what off?"

"The shirt", he says and I can see he's got a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

"I'm good. I already put cream on my legs, don't worry".

"How can you be good? It's almost 40 degrees and you're wearing a shirt".

"I'm fine", I tell him, even though it's really hot and I'm not fine at all.

"Is everything ok? Are you ill or something?"

"No, Rúben. Just stop pestering me, ok? I want to sunbathe in peace".

"With a shirt on".

I close my eyes and turn my head to the side so he can't see the little tears in my eyes. Why do I always have to be so emotional?

But, of course, he can read me like an open book and he moves around the sunbed to look at my face and try to find the answers I won't give him.

"Why are you crying? Did something happen when I was out?"

"No".

"Well, you're scaring me then".

"I don't want to wear a bikini".

His frown is even deeper now. "Not what I expected to hear. But why don't you? I mean, we're sunbathing…is it because of the news that people have been filming women at the beach without their consent? We're in a private area, that shouldn't happen".

"As if anyone would want to take photos of me in a bikini", I mutter.

"I do", he laughs, not understanding what I'm saying.

But instead of telling him, I just get up and go back to the room, closing the door before he can get inside. And I know he'll get the message that I need a second to be alone.

Ten minutes later, the door opens and he finds me staring at myself in the mirror.

"Tell me what's wrong, please. I can't help you if I don't know".

"How can you like this?"

"Like what?"

"This", I say, pointing at my chest. "Your boobs are bigger than mine, Rúben".

"So? What's the problem?".

"Well, you want me to be sexy. I want to be sexy too. And this…this is anything but sexy".

"Why do I find you sexy then?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to be treated like a child, Rúben. I have eyes. And I know what men like. You want someone like Rachel. And I want to look like her too. I'm not blaming you".

"If I wanted to be with someone like Rachel, I would be with someone like her. I don't. I'm with you. And I've been for a while. Don't you think that if your body was a problem, I would have noticed already?"

I put the shirt back on, ignoring him, and go back to bed. But soon, he's lying down next to me.

"It's ok to be insecure sometimes but don't doubt me, please. We've always been honest with each other".

"This is different".

"How?"

"This isn't something I can change. It's not ugly clothes or like that time I thought getting highlights on my hair was a good idea".

"And who says you have to change it?"

"I do. I'm usually confident but we all want to fit it. To fit the standard of what people find attractive".

"And you think you don't already", he says, shaking his head. "That insecurity has gotten to your head but once it's gone, you'll see how wrong you were".

"You don't get it".

Rúben sits up and I follow his movements with my eyes.

"I do. Do you think I just go to the gym to be strong? I want to look good. I want to fit in that stupid idea of what attractive is too. But that's not where the insecurity ends", I sit up to listen to him and he continues. "When I miss a header I think maybe it's because I'm not as tall as other players but I can't change my height so I work extra hard on my jumps. When I'm too slow I wonder if it's because all the muscle I have somehow slows me down. But if I don't have the muscle, I lose strength for the one-on-ones with other players. And the list goes on. You know how I feel after a bad match".

"Yes, you're pretty unbearable", I joke.

"And you put up with me and tell me what a great player I am and the insecurities disappear. So let me do the same for you".

"I don't know if you can right now. The idea is too stuck in my head".

He gets up and offers a hand so I do the same. Then he walks me to the mirror and moves to stay behind me.

"Let's take this off", he says, trying to remove my shirt but I try to stop him. "Let me".

I lift my arms and he takes the shirt off. I look at the bikini again and feel the need to cover myself. But he holds my arms when he notices.

"This is what you think is ugly, then?"

"I don't know if ugly is the word. But not good enough".

He then moves to my side and I look at him frowning.

"You're right. My boobs are bigger than yours".

"What?", I say, choking on a laugh.

"Maybe I should wear a bikini too".

"Rúben, stop".

"No no, let me try".

In a move I didn't expect, he removes my bikini top and tries to put it on his body but…he's bigger, in general. So it obviously doesn't fit.

I look at him, biting my lip so I don't laugh.

"Are you done being a clown?"

"No, because I made you laugh. And I also got your top off, which is another win for me. Because I like what I see. A lot".

"Thank you", I tell him, putting my arms around his shoulders and kissing him. "Should I just stay like this all day? You can wear my bikini if you want to".

"But I don't want tan lines", he whines jokingly.

I end up putting my top on again because he's right about the people taking photos of others. And because insecurities don't disappear after a couple of nice words, no matter how much they helped. But I leave the shirt in our room. Baby steps.

When I get bored of just lying down there, I pick up my phone and go on Instagram. Rachel has posted photos from her own holidays and I like the post before seeing all the photos. But then, I look at them.

"Look how great she looks in a bikini", I tell Rúben. "This is what I meant".

"I don't think many boyfriends get told to look at other women's boobs by their own girlfriends, you know?"

"Stop joking. You know I'm right".

"She looks good, yeah. And so do you. Send her a photo of you in that bikini".

"What?"

"It's Rachel", he says as if that explains everything. "She doesn't lie to you. Don't ask for her opinion on how you look. Just send the photo".

He's right so I find a photo we took earlier, as part of Rúben's plan to make me feel better. And I send it to my best friend.

It doesn't take her long to respond and I laugh.

"What did she say?"

"Stop sending me photos of you looking hot while I'm here with my boyfriend".

"Hot? Good word choice".

"I get the point, Rúben".

"I mean, gorgeous would have done too. Maybe even fucking gorgeous if we want to make sure you really get it".

I roll my eyes while he continues reciting all the adjectives he could use to describe me. But I love hearing him say all of that.

After a very lazy day, we shower and get ready to go out for dinner and a drink. I pick one of the summer dresses I bought on my shopping trip with Rachel. The neckline is pretty low but it's not as if I have much to cover so it works well for me.

"No bra. Naughty!", says Rúben when he sees me putting the dress on.

"I can't wear a bra with this dress".

"And that's why summer dresses are my favourites".

"Of course they are. Let's go eat. I'm starving".

The place is packed with people but we find a couple of seats at the bar and sit there while we wait for a table to be available.

We are just chatting, sipping on our drinks when a woman walks towards me.

"Sorry to bother you. Could you help me fix my top? My friends aren't here and I don't want to ask a man, you know".

I look at her, surprised by the request.

"Sure, what's the issue?"

She turns so I can see the back and points at the straps there. "Is it done the right way? Because it's hurting me".

"No. One of them is twisted. Let me undo this quickly so it's done right. The skin is a bit red too. Hold the front of the top well so it doesn't move".

"Thank you. God! I hate my boobs!"

Rúben lets out a little laugh at her words. "Sorry".

"Don't be. I know you don't get it but these can be so annoying sometimes. So many tops don't fit me or wearing them can hurt like it happened right now".

"Done", I say and she turns to look at me.

"Thank you", she says, giving me a quick hug and looking down at my chest. "See? Look at that gorgeous dress you're wearing. You get to make it look good. I'd have to spend the night trying to keep these two in place", she laughs.

"And I would love to be able to fill my tops with something other than air", I laugh too.

"We're never happy with what we got, are we?"

I shake my head and she says goodbye to us before leaving to go find her friends.

"You do look great in that dress", says Rúben, wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me closer to him.

"And I don't have to worry about keeping anything in place".

"Plus the whole not wearing a bra thing…".

"Oh my God, Rúben. Grow up!"

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias x yn #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader

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fatuismooches · 4 months

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SMOOOOCHES!!! hello sweetheart!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

I hope you’ve been well since the last time I came on here!! (little update on my test results: everything came back clean except a few things came back indecisive but nothing to worry about! Chronic illness doesn’t seem to be getting any worse as of right now.) but asides from that here’s a little drabble as I was re-reading a few of my earlier drabbles from last year!

We know fragile!reader despises examinations and having to endure the painful injections every few weeks when Dottore batches up a new medicine. However, what if it backfires completely? Causing fragile!reader to be in an even weaker condition, barely able to move and clinging onto Dottore as tightly as they can. Perhaps running a fever, feeling miserable as they feel as if though their whole body is being pricked by thousands of needles as they shake from their fever. Dottore would try his best to not let his emotions show, but deep down he’s panicking and trying to figure out how he can cancel out the current “medicine” running through their body. To say Dottore feels guilt is an understatement, he knows that any medicine that they take can easily backfire quickly, but he never would’ve thought the symptoms would be so severe. :( once their condition stabilizes I like to think Dottore keeps them close for at least a few days, just to make sure everything is fine. Even if it means they’ll be all clingy to him, he’d rather they be safe and alive rather than induced in a coma once again.

A bit of fluff: I like to think Zandy definitely also tries to cheer you up after the whole ordeal. He’s not sure why you weren’t visiting or reading books to him anymore, other than that “you were busy with Dottore”, is what you had told him. But even the little baby knows you look more weaker (even if it’s been a few days, your condition had still worsened anyways). So perhaps he tries to draw you adorable silly drawings, and also show you his “safe” experiments. (Lest he get a scolding from Zandik or the clones again…)

‘m giving you so many chu chus n cuddles like always smooches hehe gonna make your cheeks all rosy pinky! <33 I hope you have a lovely day n spend it with a smile like always!

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ౨ৎ

HELLO MY DEAR 🎐 ANON!! Ahh I'm so glad your results were okay! I'm so happy for you and for getting through all of this! *hugs you* And I LOVE this brainrot! ❤️ I've always brainrotted about this idea hehe because angst of Dottore failing... teehee.

Dottore, being the skilled scholar he is, never fails to concoct new medications and treatments for you in hopes of creating something that sticks, along with the actual cure. These meds always go through a few rounds of testing, on his experiments of course (as you said before) but sometimes there is only so little that can be done. After all, your body is very different from the average person's. So, there have been times when the things he's given you didn't agree with your body very well, but they were never anything drastic. However, that was until this instance.

Dottore is a confident man. He's smart, he plans ten steps ahead, and things always go exactly as he orchestrated or predicted them to. So that's why he expected nothing different to be with this batch, maybe you'd have a few minor side effects that he'd note and so on, but he expected you to be fine, to then whine about how all of this was so much work, and he'd only hum at your complains to which you'd pout at. In the beginning, you seemed fine. Looked fine, your vitals were fine. But in a matter of minutes, when you got off the operating table, all of that changed, as dizziness and blurriness.

You tried to wave off Dottore's concern, observing your worsened state immediately, but your resistance was futile as your knees buckled, though your husband caught you before you could fall. Your skin was on fire, sapping away your strength as you couldn't even bring your hand up to stop your hacking and coughing. You try to speak but everything hurts far too much for you to muster your words, and you can barely process the muffled voices, footsteps against the floor, and hands running over your body (he must have called a few segments in too.) You pass out soon after, unable to see the blank look on Dottore's face, how his hands don't shake, how he is unfaltering and flawless in his steady work to counteract what he put in his body. Unable to see what only you can see - what he's really feeling underneath everything.

You don't wake up until a few days later, to which Dottore spent trying to figure out where he went wrong constructing this medication. If only he had been more careful, if he had run more tests, perhaps this may not have happened. Perhaps he wouldn't be the cause of your even weaker state. But even when you wake up, you just smile at him, assuring him that you're okay. You'd never blame him. Even though this was all this fault. He despises it sometimes, how you're so kind and forgiving. It's a weakness.

Sure, Dottore has a lot of work to be done, and having you around so much serves as a distraction to his work... but he'll let it slide. Just for a bit. At least it is a reminder to him that you're not permanently sleeping again.

Zandy, despite being left out of the loop many times, mostly due to your insistence that he not be burdened with your own troubles, can still sense something is wrong after a while. Yes, he's a child, but he's a rather smart one. And a very attentive one when it comes to his favorite person, you. He can see how much time you spend for "check-ups" with the segments and Prime now, far more than what it used to be... how you always look exhausted but force yourself to perk up and smile around him, assuring him you'll play with him "next time", even though numerous "next times" have passed. Zandy doesn't know the exact details, but that's okay, he can see what you're going through. So obviously he's going to try and make you smile! In the time he's not with you, he spends it doing all the things you like to do too. Drawing you two together of course, in a happy little house in Sumeru where the two of you play outside together all day with no worries! Maybe he even tried baking by himself to surprise you with something yummy (quickly stopped by a segment before he hurt himself or perhaps blew up the lab.) Maybe the child should take up sewing... maybe he can sew a little Puffttore squish ball for you! Oh, but you always told him to stay away from needles... well, it's okay if you don't find out until after the fact, right?

#smooches talks #🎐 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #giving you a million more chu chus!! and cuddles!!#i always luv luv ur brainrots!#only one post for tonight bc im eepy

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lizzieislife94x · 4 months

Text

Professor Maximoff (w.m)

Wanda G!PxFem Reader

legal age gap y/n is 22 and lizzie is lets say 28

Just a little update to keep the book updated requests are open always Also over 10k reads holy shit I didn't think that many would see this 😳 but thank you (the fact this was the 10k read mark originally and then the whole book got removed at 700k reads still hurts my heart lmfao)

Y/ns POV:

"Hey can I have an iced coffee please" I say to the woman serving me "that will be $4 please and ill get your coffee right away" I smile and hand over the money as I wait for my drink after a minute she hands me my drink I smile and say thank you as I head out the store I pull my phone out to check the time and notice I'm later for my first class fuck I have professor Maximoff this morning I've already been later twice this week she's gonna kill me, she is intimidating but I can't help but drool over her every day in class she's fucking perfect and always wears these suits that do things to me I'm snapped out of my thoughts by my phone dinging I quickly look at the screen and see a text from my best friend Natasha.

Nat<3: Dude you better get here ASAP maximoff is looking at your empty seat with an annoyed look, youre gonna be in so much shit get here like now!

Fuck fuck fuck

Me: Shit I had to get coffee I'm on campus ill be there in 5 minutes try and stall for me make up an excuse or something on my way.

I take a few sips of my coffee and throw it in the trash as I run through the halls like a madman towards professor maximoffs class after a 2 minutes of sprinting I pull the door open and bend over trying to get my breath back "I'm...so..sorry I'm late professor " I say panting as I walk towards my desk I hate being in the front she's gonna stare me down "miss l/n this is your 3rd time late this week I'm not impressed you have detention" she says in a cold tone "I'm I'm really sorry my alarm didn't go off" I lie with a whisper looking down at my desk "no excuses y/n you're a grown girl youre big enough to make sure you arrive on time, open your book to page 60 and read ill deal with you later" she hisses as I pull my book out and start reading I can't help but feel sad for some reason as if I've let her down

looks like I'll actually be reading today I can't bare to look at her I don't wanna see the disappointment in her eyes, I continue to read until professor maximoff hands some tests out "pop quiz I hope you guys took in what we learned last week" fuck of course I didn't I was drooling over her I'm in so much shit "Nat you have to help me I can't remember what we where studying last week" I whisper leaning over to Nat "you need to stop having little fantasies about maximoff and start paying attention in class y/n but I'll try my best to help" she whisper shouts at me great Nat is pissed at me maximoff is pissed at me I sigh and grab my pen as I begin to read over the test paper "A, C, C, B, A, A" Nat whisper as I quickly circle the answers half way there I can do this "miss romanoff can you go to room 336 and get the books for next week please" I hear professor maximoff say out loud as I look up at her then at Nat with a pleading look "of course professor" Nat says as she stands up to leave, fuck fuck fuck I'm screwed I just have to guess the last 6 after 15 minutes I put my pen down and sigh as I lean my elbows on the desk and over my face with my hands "miss l/n get your work done no time for breaks" I move my hands slightly and look at her "I'm done professor" I say with an icy tone full of attitude "less of the attitude miss l/n and bring your test over anymore of that and ill give you detention all next week do you understand me" she states blatantly

I walk over to her desk and hand her the test "I understand professor maximoff I'm sorry" I say looking down "go and sit at your desk quietly don't disturb the rest of the class" I nod and walk back to my desk and sit for a bit as the bell rings I go to get up to leave "y/n sit you have detention for the next 2 hours" wait how did she know she's not even looking up she's marking the tests "yeah of course sorry" I say as I sit back down the classroom soon empty "grab a chair and come sit beside me you can help sort this paperwork" I just stand and grab my chair walking to her desk as I sit she looks at me for a minute studying me "what's going on with you why are you late so often, why are you giving attitude in class" she says as she places her hand on mine making me freeze "I uh I um I've not been sleeping great I'm sorry and I snapped because you where being rude and im tired I'm sorry" I say looking down she grips my chin pulling my face up to look at her "you need to start behaving y/n" she says with a tone I haven't heard, I feel my heart pound as a little moan escapes at the action she just did "I fuck..I'll um try professor"

she bites her lip as her thumb gently rubs my chin slowly moving up to pull my bottom lip slightly "you can't be making those cute little sounds y/n or you'll make it harder to keep my cool around you, you have no idea how much I wanna fuck that attitude out of you" I let out another moan feeling the pool form in my panties I don't know what came over me before I know it I'm climbing into her lap straddling her "maybe that's what I need someone to fuck the attitude out of me" I whisper into her ear making her groan I slightly grind into her to get comfortable but feel something hard forming, uh fuck she has a dick the thought alone makes me drip in an instant I'm bent over her desk with my skirt up around my waist "fuck y/n you drive me crazy it's been so hard to keep my cool I can't help but watch you walk around in these little skirts day In day out" she whispers into my ear as my panties are pulled off "fuck professor maximoff I've been so naughty I need you to fuck me hard" I whimper as I hear her pants being unzipped she spreads my legs and moans at the view I can't help but feel a little shy as she stares at me my cunt dripping I quickly cover my mouth and scream as I feel her sink deep inside me "uhhh fuck princess so tight for mommy" I moan and nod looking round "fuck to big mommy I I can't" I breath out as she leans over making me moan at the sudden movements "you can do it kitten shhh you're being so good for mommy I promise it will feel good in a minute" she moans rubbing my shoulders as I feel her thrusting slowly I can't help but moan "so good so good" I whimper as her hands run down my body to my hips as she increases her thrusts "uhhhhh fuck fuck fuckkkk"

I moan louder as she starts to pound into me harder slamming her full length deep inside me hitting my gspot repeatedly "if I ever hear another bit of attitude coming from that pretty mouth I'll fuck it out of you kitten" she moans thrusting harder "well looks...like...I'm gonna have an attitude..every...everyday" I moan out as I feel my orgasm approach "I'm gonna I'm uhhh" I scream as I cum making professor maximoff groan at the sensation she doesn't stop she only gets faster pounding my cunt relentlessly "fuck this pussy is mine do you understand " she moans I lay spread across her desk unable to form words as she pounds me over and over I feel the second orgasm hit me as she groans "fuck kitten your walls are squeezing me so fucking good you're doing amazing give me one more" she moans as she keeps her thrusts going I can't help but whimper and drool all over her desk it feels so fucking good but I swear I'm gonna pass out "gonna...cum mommy...I " my eyes roll as she slams deep inside me cumming deep inside me as I cum all over her cock she leans her body on mine moaning into my ear "fuck kitten I've never came like that before you're such a good girl for mommy" I whimper and nod "only for you mommy" I pant trying to get my breath back as she slides out and I stand up fixing my skirt as I feel my legs shaking "I'm keeping these" she smirks holding up my panties putting them into her pocket making me bite my lip "I can't wait for monday" I smirk as I walk away on shaky legs not saying anything else.

AN: I think I'm going to do a part 2 of this in the next hour of the events of the weekend requests are open haha stay hydrated people word count is 1.6k

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scythesms · 11 months

Text

Reading Rosalyn’s favorite book wasn’t enough to keep her grounded. Edmund’s narration got lost in the internal pain she desperately tried to ignore. Her attention faltered with every turn of a page.

“I’m tired, dear,” Rosalyn spoke softly. Her throat was too sensitive to emit a volume any higher.

Edmund quickly closed the book and rose from his chair. “I’ll leave you to rest.”

“No.”

“Sleep will do you good, Rosalyn.”

“All I do is sleep. Sleep will come. Keep me company until then.”

Edmund sat beside her on the bed. She used as much strength as she could to take his hand. He frowned. “You look unwell.”

“For once, let’s not discuss my dreadful condition,” she pleaded. “Anything else will do.”

Rosalyn was well aware of her state and frustrated with the illness that wouldn’t release her from its shackles - tempting her with proximity to full recovery before pulling her back just when she could fantasize about a future with her family. Days ago, the manor granted her hope. Today, she could barely lift her head.

Her swollen eyes were too heavy to keep open. The soreness of her throat overlapped with its prickliness, triggering painful coughs every so often. Her skin beaded with sweat while she shivered. As much as she wanted to sit up, her shoulders weighed her down and her head pulsed with a constant ache. All considered, she did not need further reminders of how poorly she looked and felt. She was miserable and talking to her husband allowed her a momentary escape.

Edmund watched her eyes dart from him to the ceiling as she shivered, trying to pull herself away from her misery. His hand tightened around hers. “What do you suggest we talk about?”

Rosalyn closed her eyes for a moment, wincing as she swallowed. “I know-” She exhaled. “I know I wasn’t the most welcoming during our introduction… It’s childish, but-” She paused when a shiver passed. “When did you first come to like me?”

Edmund would’ve chuckled at the question if not for the circumstances they were under. Answering her would distract him, as well. “I’ve always liked you, as much as I didn’t want to. I admired your charm and composure - less of your wit, at first. But I don’t think I accepted the fact until that night we danced in the parlor.”

Rosalyn weakly smiled. “I knew it.”

“You did.” He stared down at her with affection. “You’ve always known more than I did… The first time we spoke, you told me my love for you was inevitable. You were so definitive, so frustrating… and right in the end.”

The back of her head sunk deeper into her pillow as the strength that kept her awake wore out. She looked to the ceiling before returning her focus to him. Quieter than moments before, she asked, “Do you?”

“Do I?”

“Love me.”

Edmund sat in bewilderment. Why would she ask such a thing?

Her eyes shut, too tired to fight to keep them open, and as if reading his mind, she whispered, “I want to hear you say it.”

He was quiet for a second, thinking over her request. He wondered if she’d questioned his love for her, before, or if her tiredness simply clouded her judgment. Of course, he loved her. She knew it. He knew she did. The love he felt for her transcended his love for all else and the possibility of her not knowing pained him.

“I love you, Rosalyn. You know I do.”

Edmund sat in wait for a response when he noticed the cease of her shivers and strained breaths, as well as the fall of her limp hand. He reached for her with tears in his eyes. “You have to know I love you.”

As long as he waited for her to respond, she never did.

previous ➺ next

#1914 #Ambroise Legacy #1910s #decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 challenge #black simblr #sims stories #AL #Edmund Ambroise #Rosalyn Ambroise

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wrinkledparchment · 1 year

Text

the absence of everything (iii)

Summary: Based on 1x22 | 2x1 - After your trip to Vegas was rudely interrupted by a suspicious manila envelope being delivered to your hotel room, you and Spencer have to cut your vacation short to go back to Quantico. Although you and Spencer try to resume your professional relationship after sharing a bed, Spencer realizes just how much you mean to him, and can finally put a name on what he feels, once and for all.

Word Count: 6,030 words

Author’s Note: So... I’ve been gone for so long but this series is probably the main thing I still receive praise for in my notes. I’m currently focusing more on writing for HL but I’ve had this in my drafts forever and I decided to feed you guys!! I hope you like it... upon rereading it, some of my favorite fluffy lines I’ve ever written are in here. How did I manage that.

Content Warnings: Your general criminal minds ish, death, stuff like that. Some fluff content for you guys!!

Series Taglist: @liviasaugusta @l0ve-0f-my-life @imsuperawkward @nxstalgicnxbxdy @marciscaspar @april-14-blog @sweetreid @essenceproxima @sammypotato67 @idkanymore-05 @slep-slop @squirrellover1967 @irjuejjsaa @yomama-umbridge @holybatflapexpert @rosignoelle @ladyravenclaw @yours-truly-r @spenciepoo338 @masieofthevalley @throughparisallthroughrome @afuckingshituniverse @ladyravenclaw @irjuejjsaa @danandphilfan6 @yasminwashere @mayempress @kys-things

the abscence of everything: i | ii | . . .

“It is me. I am his madness. For years he’s been looking for something to put his madness into. And he found me.” – John Fowles, The Collector

. . .

The coffee table in your Vegas hotel room had cluttered manila envelopes, the key and note given to Spencer, and a piece of missing evidence from your father’s murder scene. Rage bubbled in your stomach, so as Spencer called Gideon on the hotel room phone, quickly putting it on speaker, you paced around, unable to stop seeing your dad’s case files and his dead, mutilated body over and over again.

“Gideon, [Name] and I both got a package, I got a key and a note reading ‘She will die unless you save her, Doctor Reid. Call Gideon. He knows.’ She got two binded pieces of paper from a book her father was binding and repairing when he died.”

Gideon finally let out a sigh, “Yeah, I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963 and a head in a box. Everyone on the team got something, but Elle was hit hard. She was framed for murder in Montego Bay, Hotch and Morgan went down to get her released and bring her back to Quantico.”

You walked closer to the phone and stopped chewing on your nails, rage bubbling inside your chest. “Gideon, whoever the hell this was had access to missing evidence from my father’s murder investigation. Meaning, this son of a bitch is the guy who robbed and killed my father. This is personal.”

“Don’t worry, [Name]. We’re going to find him. Get on the closest flight back here and Garcia will tell you where we are, we’re going to get this guy as soon as we can.” Right after he finished, Gideon hung up, leaving you and Spencer to race to get to the airport in time.

You left your rental car at the airport kiosk, signing it out and rushing after Spencer to get on the flight back home. It was all a blur, blended together to create your perfect disaster. You were stressed, overworked, and ill-prepared. This was the case you’d joined for—to find your father’s murderer and lock the bastard up.

You’d searched and searched and searched, and the criminal found you. Just as you’d eased out of work mode, just as something besides work and murder and blood filled your mind, he stole you away. Because of course he did. Because he was looking.

Spencer was a mess, but not for the same reason. You were obviously under duress, but you were so scattered that he felt like he couldn’t do anything. He did his best, carrying your bags for you, getting you iced chai while waiting for boarding. When you did get on the plane, he immediately lifted the armrest between you back, and pulling out Dante’ Inferno, handing his leather-bound copy over to you.

Your fingers ran over the spine of the book, feeling the indents where the title was, the smooth texture everywhere else. Fine craftsmanship, it must’ve been from a passionate, talented individual bookstore owner with a knowledge of binding. It reminded you of yourself, the care and attention devoted in the craft.

“You’ve got a fine copy here, Spence,” you smiled, as much as you could. “My dad would’ve loved it.”

“Do you think you can still bind books well?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’ll never forget.”

He nodded, smiling something bittersweet, “We’ll find your dad’s old book. And you’re going to fix it.” You smiled again, a little more genuine, and flicked open Spencer’s copy of Dante’s Inferno.

“I’ve got supplies in a closet somewhere,” you recalled, voice soft and quiet in case it suddenly broke. You didn’t want to cry, and you shouldn’t, not here, but it was becoming harder to not be vulnerable with Spencer. “I dream about him every night.”

Reid nods, moving his hand to rest on your knee, moving his thumb gently, allowing you to continue. “I’ve been waiting for a lead, since before I was even in the FBI academy. I’ve been waiting for 8 years and now that I’ve finally got it… just when I was happy, too.” You pause for a minute, letting one tear roll down your face but holding the rest in. “I see his body everywhere I go, can’t stop remembering how the blood felt on my hands, how lifeless he looked. I miss him, even after all this time, and now that I’ve finally got a chance to figure out who did it, I don’t want to.”

Spencer pulled you closer, looking out the small window to see the bright blue sky and all the clouds. Your breathing was still erratic, your heart still broken. And he hated how in the moment you needed him most, he couldn’t figure out what to say. “I’m here,” he murmured, over and over again until he was sure you knew what he meant.

. . .

Even though Garcia’s explanation was rushed, you vaguely understood what was happening. She refused to look you in the eye, too, possibly because Gideon had told the team about what you’d found and how it was connected to you personally. It didn’t matter though, because you’d just pulled up to a possible unsub’s apartment.

The alleyway in which all the cars were parked was also crowded by other FBI members, all unguarded, meaning the unsub wasn’t there. The local police, and an extra car were also there, you assumed some sort of medical examiner, and there was probably a body.

You and Reid were authorized to enter after flashing your badges, and neither of you were asked to put on vests. Walking in, the both of you grabbed gloves, Spencer just holding them while you slid them on and followed him over to the crime scene.

It wasn’t overly graphic, compared to other things you’ve seen, but it was traditional to become emotionally numb in the job. No matter what, someone had died here, an ‘unrepentant bad man’ or not. The bed, and with it, the man named Frank Giles, was lying in the center of the room, a sword plunged into his chest and sticking upright.

Elle, Hotch, Morgan and Gideon all stood in the room, Hotch reading something written on the sword out loud to the rest of the team. “To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade til’ the hour be none.”

Spencer stepped closer, watching as Hotch asked Elle to step back. “The bed’s in the middle of the room,” Hotch began, Morgan interrupting for a second, “And maybe the light from here casts a shadow and points to something.”

Derek quickly began explaining his theory, “Well midnight is 00:00 hours in 24-hour time. Would that be none?” Hotch dismissed this quickly, stating that there would be no shadow at midnight, until Reid finally spoke up.

“3pm.” Everyone turned to him first, then you, then back to him. Obviously, Gideon did tell everyone that this was connected to your father’s death. And surprisingly, you looked very calm for someone about to embark on their quite literal personal case, the one you’d joined for. “Hey guys, Garcia told us where to find you.”

Hotch nodded at you, barely acknowledging how personal of a situation this was for you, but quickly dismissed it, listening to Spencer talk about medieval terms for hours of the day, then asking for lighting equipment so he could replicate the 3pm sun.

While people walked in and out with various standing lights, Gideon finally walked up to you. You turned to him, offering a quick nod and smile before quickly dropping it when he mentioned your dad. “You know you can’t let your past affect this case,” he states, and you nod. “It’s obviously personal, and I know this person is targeting you, but you can’t allow yourself to make mistakes because of your past with the unsub.”

Sighing, you agreed with Gideon, instead moving next to the shadow as Reid adjusted it, and you knocked on the wall until you heard a hollow sound, ripping away the wallpaper without need for Hotch’s command. Underneath all the wallpaper was a box, and you immediately grabbed it.

Reid stopped you, “Are we sure it’s safe?”

Hotch quickly dismissed him and allowed you to examine it. You played with the lock for only a few seconds before looking back up at Reid. “Give me the key.” Without hesitation, he handed it over and you shoved it in, and to nobody’s surprise, it fit perfectly. You lifted the lid, and familiar music had began to play, one that Reid had played for you during the classical music quiz.

“Forellenquintett,” you and Reid murmured in unison, the rest of the team looking up at each other before shrugging it off. Reid reached inside to grab the note from the music box, reading it out loud to the rest of the team.

Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.

Elle scoffed, walking off, “Well, that was worth it.”

Gideon ignored her, speaking right afterwards. “The lid. Little tab right under the lock.”

You quickly fiddled with it, revealing a CD and a lock of hair that nearly perfectly matched yours. You hummed under your breath in disapproval and disgust, Derek and Elle working together to put the lock of hair in an evidence back and grab the CD for review.

After heading back to the table room, you and Reid sat next to each other, which was your usual spot. For some reason the team seemed to eye the both of you, suspicious about what had happened in Vegas and why you two were still together when you should’ve left before that.

You carefully watched the TV after someone slid in the CD. A dimly lit desk with cluttered items all around it, and a very large throne behind it. A man wobbled into frame, clearly injured by something, which the team noted.

“I assure you, you’ll all understand in the end why it must be this way. You might even thank me. You know now you’re on a quest; a young girl’s life depends on the successful completion of it. As you can see, she’s quite beautiful . . . and in distress.”

You clenched your fists when you saw the girl come into frame, screaming at the camera, begging for something. You wondered if everyone on the team recognized just how much, even from the little they all saw, how she looked like you.

“Now please listen closely for there is one rule, and this rule must be followed. The one rule is only the members of your team may participate in the quest.” He began to list your names, and displayed pictures of each of you in the video, you and Reid in the same frame taken during one of the previous cases. “A quest must be completed in a proper way, or it isn’t a quest, is it? That’s it. One rule. Simple.

“Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you’ll need to finish the quest. You will find you also need a book which has inspired many an adventure like mine. Believe me when I tell you, I truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure for all of us, but especially [Name].”

With that, the clip was over and all that was left was static. Reid had tensed after he’d mentioned you by name, and it didn’t fly over the heads of any of your coworkers either. The unsub knows you so well, doesn’t he? Pictures of you and Reid together, knowledge of just how to tick you off, and additionally, he knows what happened to your father the last night he was alive and is plunging that knife of knowledge right into your heart and twisting it. Involving all your coworkers in it, making it clear that all of this, it’s all for you.

You were the subject of madness, the main target of all of this. You were the ‘protagonist’, he was the villain, and everyone else—the dead, your coworkers, the girl he’d kidnapped—were all side characters in the story. But Reid, standing right next to you in the picture while everyone else was photographed individually, that said something to you. He knew about whatever was happening between the two of you, so much so that it was terrifying because he probably knew better than either of you.

Suddenly, the team was active. “This guy’s got pictures of us?” Elle exclaims.

Reid fiddled with the pen in his hand, “What do we do now?”

Hotch eyed you, noting how tense you seemed when only just minutes ago, even with a dead body in front of you, you were eerily calm. “The lock of hair’s being analyzed for DNA. There might be something on file.” JJ walked out, vowing to figure out who the girl is. Hotch nodded, “Let’s get the clues up on the board. Maybe we can make some sense of something.”

Elle immediately objected, “Wait, we’re going to play this guy’s game?”

Reid sighed, glancing at you for a few moments, “Do we have a choice?”

Everybody stayed silent, Spencer’s words lingering in the air while Gideon and Hotch went to a different room. You began quietly pinning the clues in the evidence bags to the board, not saying a single word to anybody else in the room. Elle found the soft crumple of the evidence bags relaxing, eyes closing softly until Hotch interrupted her nap and sent Anderson to take her home.

Soon enough, yet another piece of evidence, a list of number sets in a strict pattern, though it may not seem like it without a keen eye. Just as Spencer opened his mouth, you beat him to the punch. “Sets of numbers, page number, line number, word number. It’s a cipher based on a book which he expects us to know.”

Derek stares back at you, Spencer’s mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sure, you were quicker sometimes than he was, but you seemed so rigid, it was odd to them. “Yeah but what book?”

“Well, this ‘quest’ is clearly meant to be personal to you, [Name],” Derek proposed, “Meaning this is a book he expects you to know.” Spencer sighed, walking over to grab the ripped pages the unsub had sent you and examines them, reading the words hoping he’d remember reading this book at some point but he doesn’t.

“Dante’s Inferno?” Reid questioned, even though he obviously knew it wasn’t.

“Both of us would recognize it. Whatever book my dad was fixing that night, it was that book. Specifically, a first edition. Let’s see… that was eight years ago. Do you think memory recall would work?”

Elle and Derek simply stood off to the side while you and Reid debated each other, glancing at each other occasionally. Yet, the body language was the same as it always was, and maybe what had changed was the way Elle and Derek read the situation.

“When you got there, the book was gone; how would you know which one he was supposed to be working on?” Spencer rebutted.

“I was closing, I must’ve—” you stammered, “I must’ve known what book he was working on, I have to!” Soon, you were pacing around the room, muttering things underneath your breath and attempting to retrace your steps from 8 years ago that also occurred across the country.

Derek set his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place and stopping your pacing. “Okay, [Name], calm down, we can always try memory recall, and if not, the clues should be in the evidence—this guy is meticulous, I’m sure he’s accounted for this.”

Suddenly, Gideon walked back into the room, looking at the four of you. Spencer was still staring at the evidence board, Hotch leaning back in his chair, and Derek and you standing in the middle of the room. “[Name], you don’t have to relive that memory if it’s not necessary. How would we proceed if we didn’t have all these clues? What’s the first thing we’d look at?”

“Victimology,” you swallowed, both thankful and displeased that Gideon was looking out for your wellbeing. Everybody was watching you so closely, especially because this was a personal case to you, as if they expected you to break down at any moment.

“And we have a victim, Rebecca Bryant. Hotch and I will follow the mailman lead. Derek, take JJ and find out everything you can about Rebecca. Reid, [Name], stay here and find the book. If anybody can do it, it’s you two.”

Everyone else left the room, Reid and you staying. Sure, Gideon didn’t want you to relive the worst moments of your entire life, but you were so close. So you shut the door to the roundtable room and turned back to Reid. “I want to do memory recall.”

. . .

The chair you were sitting on was soft and sturdy, so you let yourself lean back, and you closed your eyes. You breathed, waiting for Reid to begin. You tried to calm yourself, enough to the point where your anger flooded away and all you could do was think. See your memories in a clear light.

“I’m going to try and calm down first, can you guide me?”

Spencer nodded, breathing along with you. “What is your favorite memory?”

You focused in on the word, smiling; favorite. You could hear Spencer’s giddy laugh echoing in your ears, bright city lights clouding your vision. The hood of your black rental car from Vegas reflected them, the smaller model of the Eiffel tower standing tall, neon signs and main strip casino windows. The cool, night breeze in your hair. You could still feel Reid’s lingering presence in the passenger’s seat, the way he looked at you with those doe-y, hazel eyes. His pupils were inflated, shrinking again when he turned away to change the stereo.

You could feel the pain in your toe when you stubbed it on the hotel bedframe, you could feel the newly replaced bedsheets of the hotel against your legs, and you could see Spencer standing over you, smiling so widely when you laughed. The way his warm skin felt against yours, how gentle he was with his arms around you.

You imagined the pool water as he splashed it back at you, the water droplets against his skin and the way he slicked back his wet hair. His laugh and shy smile after you told him he still looked like a rat when he was wet. The understanding look when he listened to your struggles with the BAU, your life story, the interest in your past and your hobbies.

After all the memories you’d made yesterday had flashed through your head in a matter of seconds, you registered what it meant. When you thought of happy, you thought of him. Some of your favorite moments in life were with him, being around him, watching him. Him, him, him. This feeling—it was consuming you, and it felt so delightful. You wanted it to devour you, and you let it.

“Yesterday,” you whispered after a minute of reliving the best day of your life. You didn’t open your eyes, but you could hear Reid shift in his chair and you smiled, assuming he was blushing. Profiler or not, he knew what that meant.

He sighed, “Are you ready to go back?” You nodded. “It was eight years ago. How old were you?”

“I was sixteen, and about to graduate high school.” You still remember how frustrated and overwhelmed you were. The night before you discovered your dad, you had the closing shift along with a massive pile of homework and colleges to apply to. You sat behind the wooden counter, combing through your homework as fast as you could, eager for your father to come and take an overnight shift in working with the books.

“What time was it?”

“It was five minutes until the clock struck 11,” you said, which was the beginning of your father’s shift at the bookstore. You were packing up your homework and college applications back into your bookbag, noting on a stray piece of paper all the leftover homework and applications you had to pour over in the morning. You were so tired, but you wanted to thank your father for taking the shift tonight and letting you rest.

“My father is coming in,” you tell Spencer, reliving the last moment you saw him alive. The door rang, signaling his entrance. His hair and shoulders were wet from the rain outside, something you didn’t remember about the scene until now. He smiled, asking you how your day went.

“Okay, sweetpea,” he had begun, “are you ready to go home?” You nodded to him, but not before helping him with his bags. He looked at you, smiling while you followed him down to the book storage, an icy cold basement.

You watched, setting out his materials for him while he brought out the book, which was partially bound but tattered still, especially the cover, and you had to take a double take, pausing and hearing Reid’s voice. You weren’t listening, but rather going through the evidence in your head.

JJ’s butterfly, Reid’s key, and a lock of hair all on top of a piece of bloodied parchment. You could see the dainty, cursive letters, shocked as to how you’d not remember the cover when you worked at a bookstore. You gasped, nearly crying as you remembered the last thing you’d seen your father doing alive.

You tried to shake it all out of your head, the unsub wanted to get to you. This quest was curated for you and him, a chess game, and you needed to have a level head to win. Sitting straight up, your eyes shot open and you and Reid shared a glance, him smiling proudly. You handled yourself so well.

“The Collector, by John Fawkes,” you stated, rushing over to the board where all the evidence was pinned. You took off the butterfly, the lock of hair, the key and the bloodied paper and set them in front of Reid.

“These are all on the first edition front cover, a bloodied piece of paper as a background, the key, the lock of hair and the butterfly all on top. Not only do they have a personal significance to us, but to the book. I should’ve known sooner,” you berated yourself, explaining quickly before walking off, ready to call the nearest library for their first edition copy of The Collector.

. . .

Reid, Garcia, and you had all stood around, them solving the cipher and writing the message on the board. Elle had been sent home earlier, so you were a team member short, but you were closer than you’d ever been on solving your dad’s murder. So close you could almost imagine him, smiling down at you and telling you that you were doing a good job. That’s all the encouragement you needed.

Hotch had berated Anderson for only dropping Elle off rather than staying at her house, stating that the unsub had all of your personal information. You begged Hotch to let you go to her house and stay, but he said he had needed you too much because of your connection to the case.

Instead, you watched as Reid and Garcia went over the cipher with the librarian. You walked away from the team when Hotch called you. “Yes sir?”

“Elle was shot at her house, I’m at the hospital now, I need you and Reid to keep working on those clues. I’ll update you when she’s out of surgery.”

Your stomach twisted, wondering why in all hell the unsub took Elle. This was your quest, the team were all there to aid you. Why would he hurt Elle instead of you? Instead of your family or someone you were close to? You nearly cried out as you broke into tears—this team, the BAU, is your family. And you’ve brought all of them into danger just by being here.

When you walked back into the room, you’d discovered that Reid had called his mom to be flown into Quantico by the federal agents there, and that you’d be meeting his mom for the first time. She was involved in this case now too, and you wondered if you should stick around after this. If all of this, if Elle’s shooting was your fault.

. . .

You leaned against Reid’s desk as he fiddled with the evidence bag that the poem was in. “Your mom’s safe,” you said, “agents just picked her up and she’s flying over here now. Garcia told me.”

Reid didn’t even dare to meet your gaze, staring at the poem still. “I forgot she always used to read me this poem,” he started. “And I realized that nobody knows things like the fact that JJ collects butterflies except for me. People tell me their secrets all the time, and I think it’s because they know I don’t have anyone to betray them to… except for my mother. I tell her pretty much everything in my letters. Did you know that I write her everyday?”

You smiled, leaning forward, “I did, Reid. And I know that you feel guilty about not seeing her two days ago. That you write all of those letters to make up for the fact that you think you don’t visit her enough.”

He looked up at you, a clear question in his eyes. How do you know?

“Reid, during my memory recall, when you asked what my favorite memory was… I’ve been alive for twenty-four years, and out of any memory—the ones with my best friend, the good days here, my childhood—I chose Las Vegas. Not because of the beautiful city lights, or the fancy car, but because you were there with me, just us.

“I told you about my father not because you don’t have anyone to betray me to, but because I want you to know. Because I trust you whole-heartedly, and if anybody in this world should know me best, it’s you.”

Spencer finally held his eye contact with you, swallowing hard. You let your words hang in the air before putting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing, allowing it to linger there for a few seconds before walking back to Garcia’s lair, wanting to soak up all the information she might have.

You heard the signature ‘beep’ of Garcia hanging up on someone, and shut her door gently before striding over to her desk. “What’s going on so far?”

She didn’t lift up her eyes to look at you, typing furiously on her computer, “I’m searching for Rebecca Bryant’s biological family, turns out she was adopted by the Bryant family and her real last name is Garner.”

Penelope filled you in further on the details, actively working to unseal her adoption papers and find out what happened to the original family; after all, the victimology is the first thing you look at.

Could you consider yourself a victim? He’d been taunting and tormenting you and your entire team, he was most likely the man who had killed your father, or at least knew what happened or was involved somehow. Your father had been murdered prior to Rebecca’s disappearance, and you considered why this man would have been involved with your father’s murder and Rebecca’s disappearance.

Were you actually a target?

You went to sit back at your desk, looking at your old piece of parchment paper with your favorite canto of Dante’s Inferno written in cursive, the fifth, the canto of Francesca. The most famous line written in bold and in the original Italian, “Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,” or “Love, that excempts no beloved from loving in return.”

The bullpen was a shuffle of people, other agents you didn’t interact with that much, that didn’t come with you on cases, and tons of other people rushing around, going through files, making phone calls. Spencer strided over from the small kitchenette to sit at his desk, which was connected to yours, sitting across from you with a small wall of transparent glass in between.

He smiled at you, a warm, small smile that frequently was exchanged between the two of you. Sometime in between your talk at his desk and the hour or so you went without seeing each other, there was a microscopic layer of tension between you, beginning right where your desks separated.

The shuffling of the bullpen dulled the ache of the tension, and so did your eyes slowly closing to rest for just a few minutes as Reid spent his time half-dozing off while reading a printed out version of The Collector. Reid finally broke this silence when your head began to tilt to the side as you fell into a tiny cat nap. He called for you, with no response, so he got out of his chair and poked you in the forearm.

You wiggled a bit in your sleep, shifting around trying to find some semblance of comfort in your uncomfortable office chair. He takes a moment to stare just for a bit at your face. Looking at your eyes gently closed, your face peaceful even in this painful position, his mind fogged with the soft midnight laughter you traded with each other in the Vegas hotel room. He imagined the weight of your head on his chest, your arm laid over his stomach, your face and warm breath against the crook of his neck.

He realized quickly the words that came along with the happy memories made along with you. The constricting yet freeing feeling stuck in his throat and squeezed around his heart, the sort of euphoria you associate with the warm feeling of sun on your skin and driving a convertible along the coast. That beautiful, powerful, devouring feeling of knowing that someone has you. You’re theirs, completely and utterly.

The feeling of pure joy when you stop daydreaming and start remembering memories instead. When the words to describe this feeling escape you because all you can think about is that one, special person who has altered the course of your life forever. When you can no longer write romance because none of the words you put onto a page can do this feeling--this love--justice.

He was in love with you. He felt it in everywhere he looked, everything he did, and every moment he lived.

Spencer took a quick look around the office, and gently prodded at your sleeping form again until you open your eyes just a little, squinting against the bright lights of the bullpen. He held out his hand, which you, in your sleepy, half-awake state, took with no hesitation as he guided you into the conference room and turned off most of the lights.

He showed you to the couch, sitting on the far end, leaving you room to lay down and take the rest of it while the two of you rested and waited for Spencer’s mother to arrive. The crown of your head was just barely touching the side of his thigh, and eventually, moving and wiggling around in your sleep made you lay your head straight in his lap.

He felt the sudden movement and then the weight, and stared down at your side profile, admiring the way the dim lights highlighted your face perfectly. He brushed hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, and he swear he saw a ghost of a smile on your face. He fell asleep, fingers still intertwined and resting in your hair.

Spencer dreamt of city lights and midnight laughter and Vegas hotel rooms. He dreamt of walking up behind you while you made pancakes in the morning and piling kisses all along the side of your neck and face, arms wrapped around your waist and the way your body would be decorated in stripes by the morning sun.

He was woken up by the distribution of weight changing, your head shifting to stare up at him, hair surrounding your face in a pile on his lap. The sleepy smile that graces your face twists his stomach into knots and melts his heart.

You seem to not mind the fact that your head had wound up in his lap, and instead, you muttered a small, sleepy, single word. “Coffee?”

He almost laughed, just stunned by how natural the domesticity and comfortability between you two felt. Like the wall that had built between you--separating your pinkies from intertwining, separating your fates from inexplicably linking--had suddenly vanished. There was a mutual understanding there--you make me feel safe, you make me happy, you are mine.

He slid out from underneath your head, turning around just before he reached the exit to look at you, splayed across the couch comfortably, the dim 5:00 am moonlight gleaming through the windows, and your eyes, shining even brighter back at him with a giant smile on your face.

In the small kitchenette, he tidies himself up as much as possible, fussing with his hair while coffee brewed, and just as he finished pouring the both of you a cup, a group of FBI agents gathered around the entrance with a blonde, tall and pale woman that was Spencer’s mother.

“That’s why you’re so skinny, you know,” Spencer’s mother, Diana Reid stated only a few seconds after walking into the bullpen. Spencer turned his head, setting down the pot of coffee. His mother’s eyes were sunken just a bit, dark circles underneath, worry lines accenting her face. “Too much coffee.”

Her frame was cramped up, shoulders tightened and her body looking even more frail by the minute. Her short pixie cut looked untamed, and Spencer wondered how stressed she had been. He knows that she hates planes, and the government, and basically anything else where somebody might be watching her.

Schizophrenia tends to do that to a person. Even the smartest people get unlucky, get ill in a time where there isn’t much help or refuse it themselves. Spencer lives every day wondering about his mother’s happiness and well-being, but knows she is taken care of in her facility. He writes her everyday, and thinks about his childhood memories, about his father and mother and how he wanted a relationship that was nearly the opposite of that.

They loved each other at one point. Enough to have him and raise him together for a few years, and all he can think about is how much he would love and cherish his wife, his children with her, and how no matter what got in the way, he couldn’t see himself ever letting go.

All these thoughts, worry for his mother, himself, his future, his children float through his head and pass by in a few seconds. The next few seconds consist of you, whether his mother would approve of you and just how much she might adore you for seeing you make her son so happy.

Finally coming back to reality, he nodded at the FBI agents who had brought her here. “Thanks a lot guys, I’ve got her.” Walking forward, he looks at the horrified look on his mother’s face, eyebrows raised and hand coming to cover her mouth, glancing around the FBI bullpen, clearly unnerved by where she was.

Once the FBI agents have disappeared around the corner of the hallway into the bullpen and Spencer takes a few more steps towards her, she lets her hand drop from her face. “You know I’m terrified of flying,” she states, shaking her head for emphasis.

Spencer gives a small, fake smile. “I know mom, I’m sorry.”

Spencer glances over his mom’s shoulder, seeing you come out of the roundtable room and begin walking over to where he and his mom were standing. Still obviously upset, his mom continues, “Well then why did you have those fascists arrest me?”

He can hear your footsteps echoing throughout the mostly quiet bullpen, and he tries to calm his mom down before you arrive here, to introduce yourself.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid slow burn best friends to lovers au 20k #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gender neutral!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #bau #bau x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 5 months

Text

Home (Not So) Sweet Home

Chapter Four of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: A trip to jail was not on your list for things to accomplish during the short time you were home in Pigeon Creek. But, like most of the predicaments you find yourself in, it's all thanks to Jake. So much for a half an hour trip into town to get the papers signed and then back to New York soon afterwards. Instead you get a high-speed trip down memory lane as Pigeon Creek, and Jake himself, dredge up ancient history.

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Warnings: Mentioned miscarriage (non-graphic) Please do not read anything between As your belly grew and the bed sheets if this is an uncomfortable topic for you. I have italicized those sections in this to account for this.

Word Count: 2719

A/N: First of all, I'm sorry this chapter is a bit late! I went shopping today because I needed a new coat and I just got back home! This is the chapter where we get to see a little bit more of Jake and Linley's relationship after the seven year separation they've been on. It's nothing short of explosive! All of my thanks to @desert-fern for beta-reading and refining this chapter for me!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

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Well, you ended up in jail. You've never once been able to out-dare Jake in your life and you weren't able to out-dare him today either. When Jake had unplugged the phone and taken it to the bedroom, it had been to call the Sheriff. The Sheriff of Pigeon Creek and you have a contentious relationship, to put it lightly. Too many run-ins with the law for your comfort when you were much younger and more foolish. Of course, just as the sirens show up on the front lawn, you're already booking it for the back door. This is the last thing you need, getting arrested on your first day back in Pigeon Creek. The only person you can call other than Jake is your dad. Fuck! Maybe you ought to leave quietly and come back later?

But to your surprise it isn’t the old Sheriff you tormented as a teen. It's Mickey Garcia, and he walks right in through the back door. You grew up with Mickey. He’s Jake’s best friend and somebody Jake loves like a brother. Hell, Mickey was Jake’s best man at your ill-fated wedding. Really, if Jake believes Mickey would ever arrest you, then he has another think coming, or so you thought.

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t Misdemeanor Mitchell!” There’s a huge grin on his face showcasing the new smile lines around his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

“Mickey?!” You’re wrapped up in your first hug since you got back home and you can’t help the smirk you throw at Jake over Mickey’s shoulder.

“Hot damn, girl, did we miss you around here!” He holds you out at arm length and drinks you in.

“Hey, I think I saw poor, old Fuzz just the other day.” You laugh at his words because you haven’t thought about Fuzz in years. You hope that old cat is doing well, even after all this time. But, it looks like some things will never change, like how Pigeon Creek is never going to forget why you’re so notorious.

“Oh, God, you just had to bring that up, didn’t you?” You can sense Jake’s irritation from where he’s leaning on the wall and it drives your smile even wider.

“I can't believe you're the sheriff!” The last time you saw Mickey he was moving to college on a baseball scholarship.

It doesn’t surprise you at all when his voice takes on a flirtatious tone. “Yep, I get to frisk pretty little things like you all day and get paid for it!”

Jake’s scoff breaks up the convivial atmosphere. “Mickey, can you try and be a little more professional? We got us a prime suspect here! This woman broke into my house!”

You just know the man’s smirking again. Is it so hard to just sign some papers and be done with this whole situation? Now he’s dragging Mickey into this? Why the hell is your ex-husband so impossible to live with?

"Aww, Linley, you know that you can't trespass in other people's houses." He's smiling as he looks between Jake and you.

"I'm not trespassing, Mick. I used my key." You tug it out of your bag as proof, noticing how Jake’s eyes darken at the sight of the spare key he’s never known how to find.

"Honey, I'm sorry, but whether you have a key or not, I'm going to have to escort you out of here." He sounds genuinely sorry for your plight.

Jake, of course, has something smart-alecky to say, like always. "In handcuffs please, Mick."

"Mick, if you can get him to sign these papers, I'll let you run me out of town as fast as you want." You pull the papers out.

“Don’t drag him into this, Linley.” Bullshit. Jake’s the one that dragged Mickey into this. He could have just signed the papers and you’d have left town fifteen minutes after you’d blown in. He wanted to play hardball, hardball is what he’s going to get. You hand the papers to Mick and watch Jake’s expression change even as a smug grin curls your lips.

"Sorry, man. If you're still married, this is her house too. So at most, this is a domestic disturbance. I don’t see anything to arrest anybody for." He turns back to you with a wink. "Unless, that is, Jake hit you. Now, honey, you'll tell me if Jake over there ever hurts you in any way, right? Cause we take that kinda thing seriously now."

Jake's face falls just a little as you glance coolly over his grease streaked face. You’re not sure what he thinks you’re going to say. But the realization feels like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head. He thinks you’re going to lie and say despicable things about him, doesn’t he?

Your voice is soft, softer than it has any right to be."Naw, Mickey. Jake's never hurt me. Not a day in his life."

Jake tries any and every way to get you out of the house. But none of them work until he mentions how Mrs. Garcia's tractor ended up in the pond and how there was an open warrant out for the perpetrator still. That rat bastard.

Now you're sitting in a chair in front of Mickey's desk wearing handcuffs contemplating who you can call to get you out of jail. Mickey's on the phone with his ma, letting her curse you out in Spanish. You don't really have many options. Your dad and Jake are the only two people who'd ever bail you out if you were in trouble. For obvious reasons you can't call Jake. So your dad it is.

You dial the number you've known by heart for most of your life and have barely used for the past seven years and wait. It's only a few minutes before he picks up.

"Hello?" He sounds exhausted, like he does after working a particularly grueling shift at the shop.

"Dad? Surprise, it's Linley!" His voice makes you feel safe.

"Hi, kiddo! This is a surprise! I wasn't expecting to hear from you for a while!" That statement hurts.

"Dad, it's not the call that's the surprise. I'm actually in town." His little intake of breath has tears flooding to your eyes.

"Really? Well, kiddo, you didn't have to call. You can drop by the house anytime you want." After the fight you had before you left, how can he still welcome you home?

"I know, Dad. But that's not why I called. I'm in custody at the Pigeon Creek Police Department."

You can hear his fond smile with every word and it makes your eyes roll. "I should've known you would have already gotten into trouble. I'll be there in fifteen, kiddo. I love you."

You murmur your love back and settle back into the chair to wait. It’s a formality after your dad works through the doors of the Sheriff’s Office to get you out of handcuffs. You may have had to profusely apologize to Mrs. Garcia, but at least you’re not in a jail cell for the night.

Of course, as soon as you’re in your dad’s truck, he lets you have it. Mickey had kindly offered to drop your rental car off, so your bags are in the backseat.

“You just got into town. How in the world did you end up in jail again, huh?” He sounds so relaxed at having rescued his only child from jail. Since this was not an uncommon occurrence in your teenage years, it’s a little shocking that he’s not more worked up about this. After all, you’re twenty-five and an adult. Childish things like getting dragged off to the Sheriff’s office should be behind you.

You shrug as your dad drives you home. The roads are dark, illuminated only by the streetlights spitting out fat pools of golden light. “Jake and his big fat mouth. It’s just a misunderstanding, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you try to fix things with Jake, kiddo?” You sink a little bit deeper into the seat. “I went to all that trouble to pay for that wedding after all.”

“Daddy! That was hardly a wedding! He was hungover, threw up all over my dress and then I had to go to our reception alone, in my puke covered dress while he got to sleep off his hangover. It’s not exactly a wedding I want to remember.” It fills you with disgust to think of the heirloom lace of your Grandmother’s wedding dress getting ruined like that. You’d managed to save it, of course, but it’s something you still haven’t forgotten. That first night should have been the first evidence that you and Jake would never work out. But you were young and stupid and in love. So you disregarded every bit of evidence until something big enough came up that you couldn’t ignore anything anymore.

“He’s a good guy. Just give him another chance!” This is why you fought with your dad before you left. He’s always been fond of the Seresins. He has been since your ma skipped out on you both when you were two years old. His soft spot for Jake is so strong that he never sees anything wrong with a single decision he makes - including throwing up on his baby girl on her wedding day and everything else that went wrong afterwards. He’s never once been willing to see that maybe Jake was a little bit to blame as well. But no, that dubious honor only ever went to you.

“You always side with him, daddy! He’s the son you’ve never had, I know. But I’m your daughter. Your only daughter and you don’t even care to know what I’ve been doing with my life?!” Your breathing is a little ragged. This is why you’ve never come home over the past seven years. Why would you when your dad had something better, someone better than you in the boy you’d lost everything to? The hand that covers yours is warm and jolts you out of the impending spiral your thoughts try to yank you into.

“Alright, sweetheart, tell me what’s going on.” You’re not sure whether he’s just humoring you, but now’s your chance to tell him. How he’ll take the news and whether he’ll be okay with it, you don’t know. But you have to tell him.

“I… met somebody. He’s a catch. He’s in politics, his family is in politics, and I love him.” Your dad doesn’t so much as blink. The radio’s off and you sit in silence, trying to gain control over your fraying emotions.

It’s not until you’re back in the house that you pickup the conversation again.

“He asked me to marry him, daddy. It’s why I needed to talk to Jake. He needs to finally give me that divorce.” Your dad tugs you onto the sofa and takes your hands in his own.

“Are you sure about him, kiddo?” Your dad’s green eyes look deep into your own. A lot of you may be Pete Mitchell, but the one trait of his you never inherited were his eyes. Your eyes are your mama’s, and most of the time you’re glad her eyes are the only part of her you’ve inherited.

“I - I don’t know, Daddy. He makes me happy when I’m with him. He makes me happier than I have been in a long time.” You’re so confused. Coming back to Pigeon Creek was supposed to be easy. You sit with your dad on the overstuffed sofa facing the tv for a long while. The silence is draining, but you can’t force yourself to get up and walk away or break it.

It’s your dad who breaks the tense hush overtaking the living room. “Alright, kiddo. If he makes you happy then that means that he’s automatically got my approval. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. We’ll see what we can do about Jake. But right now, your old man needs to get into bed. It’s been a long day for me, and I’m sure it’s been just as long for you. Why don’t you head to bed?” Your nod is mechanical as you walk into your childhood bedroom and lay down. You’re asleep in minutes, but your sleep is anything but satisfactory.

All of a sudden you're thirteen, fifteen and seventeen again, noticing the changes in your best friend, noticing how all the girls see him in a way only you've ever seen him before. You remember the urge to ensure he loved you as much as you loved him. You still remember his words from the day you and Jake were struck by lightning, "Will you marry me, Linley?"

Ten year old you was an idiot. Jake Seresin, quarterback and All-American heart-throb, wanted you to marry him and you told him no. It's a decision you kick yourself over every now and again, especially when you see Mindy Jefferson making out with Jake behind the bleachers one afternoon. Is it possible to be both jealous and sad at the same time? Because that's what you are.

You spend most of your senior year of high school feeling like that. The night of the last football game of the year is when everything changed. You'd hitched a ride with Jake home, and Pigeon Creek is not the biggest town. You should've guessed something was up when he drove the opposite direction from home. When he kissed you, you'd melted. When he pulled you into the bed of his truck you went willingly. And when he made love to you under the stars, you climaxed with tears in your eyes.

There were tears of a completely different kind in your eyes as you sat in your bathroom with a multitude of drugstore pregnancy tests on the counter in front of you three months later. You had to tell Jake and your dad and his mom. Obviously all of Pigeon Creek knew within an hour. That was why you'd married Jake. For the baby that was half of you and half of him. Other than the aforementioned reception incident, the two of you settled into matrimonial bliss quite easily. Jake gave up his dreams of pro football, deferring college to work at the tire factory. You had taken in mending, sewing, and darning to help.

As your belly grew, so did your happiness. At least until the night you woke up to red streaking your thighs and staining the bed sheets. After you lost your baby, you weren't sure how to be with Jake, not anymore. He tried to be strong for you, be your rock when you were grieving. But it was just putting more stress on your relationship. You weren’t sure you could ever be enough for Jake, not anymore. The fissures in your relationship became suddenly, wholly apparently clear.

So one day, while Jake was at work, you'd left a note on the bedside table along with your wedding ring and gone to see your dad. You told your dad why you were leaving, fought with him when he objected to your decision and bought a bus ticket to New York with everything you owned in a bag. You've never told another soul why you left, though you’re sure most of Pigeon Creek could assume the reason why, especially considering how you’d been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. You're not sure that even Jake knows the real reason why you left. It wasn't the fights or yelling or how Jake wanted you to stay home when you wanted to chase your dreams, either. It was because you couldn't face him after your body had destroyed the one thing you loved more than Jake - the one thing you only had because of Jake.

Ancient history clouds your thoughts when you wake up the next morning. Your head is in a fog of what was. More than ever you're filled with the urge to leave Pigeon Creek, maybe for good. But first you need to make a couple of phone calls, withdraw some change from the bank and go talk to Jake again. Maybe this time you’ll finally walk away with the divorce signed? If only it could be so easy.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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