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peachesofteal · 4 months

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Simple Math / Part 5

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.

“Ye’re off yer head.”

“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins.

“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.

“Only if you win."

“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way.

“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.”

Your phone is ringing.

In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.

“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”

“I know it’s your day off, but-“

“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.

“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“

“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”

“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.

The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.

OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.

The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.

It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.

You were wrong.

You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.

Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.

Shredded panties.

The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.

Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.

Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.

You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.

Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now?

He’s really going to kill you this time.

You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.

You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.

She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.

So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.

Get it together. Get yourself together.

You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.

Deep breath. You can do this.

You still have your sanctuary.

You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.

Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.

The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.

Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.

You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath.

Still…

Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse-

The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.

“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.

“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.

“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.

“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.

“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.

“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.

“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.

“Okay.”

“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny?

“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”

“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”

“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.

In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.

By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-

Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-

No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him.

The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…

Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.

You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.

It wasn’t him. You’re safe.

Deep breath. You can do this.

Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.

“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear.

You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.

Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”

You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner.

You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.

“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.

You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.

“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words.

“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.

“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.

“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.

“Um…”

“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.

“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”

You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.

The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly.

“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”

“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.

“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”

“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.

“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”

Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”

“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”

“Your captain?”

“Aye.”

“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.

“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.

“What… what kind of task force?”

“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?

“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”

“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.

“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.

“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.

“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.

“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.

His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.

This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it.

“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.

“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.

“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.

“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.

“Of course.”

“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.

“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“

“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?

“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.

“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.

“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.

“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“

“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily.

"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.

“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.

“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek.

“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”

“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.

“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.

“A hotel?” You swallow.

“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.

“Is everything alright? Earlier-“

“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.

But nothing is normal with them.

He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.

“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“

“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.

“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling.

“Good night, bunny.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost

1K notes · View notes

ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

three stupid words | shameless ; l.gallagher

A/N ; I, uh... I dunno where this came from and more importantly, I do not know where this is going, if it's meant to be a one off thing with a fem!reader or there will be more in the future. But hey, it's here and I thought, ahhh.. why not.. i'll wake up and choose violence in the form of angst today. So here we fuckin go.

( By all means, if you guys want more to this pls... Encourage me and my fuckery. )

Pairing ; Lip Gallagher x Best Friend ! Fem reader.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; This is set around the time that Karen was pregnant had Lip believing he was the father but the father turned out to be some other kid and they broke up. If I were to continue this, a lot of Lip's stuff on the show would arguably change. And I dunno that this would actually follow a lot of the canon plot or anything. So.. yeah.

Tag List ; There is nobody on my Shameless tag list. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Shameless, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Angst. Friends to nothing to lovers. Alcohol + creepy asshole scenario mentioned, Kissing. Three stupid words. This one is tame.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

“And furthermore, Phillip,” you’ve got your hand on your hip, your chest is heaving and your nostrils are flared. All that’s missing is your hands gesturing wildly or the way you always seem to wind up invading each other’s personal space whenever you butt heads. It’s been like this since you were both around 6 and 7.

From the kitchen doorway, Fiona tries not to double over.

Lip takes a long sip from the bottle of beer he’s confiscated from Frank’s stash in the fridge. He’s calm. Smirking a little. “What, princess?”

Your nostrils flare just a little more. You step closer. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me.” Lip smirks. Stepping closer to you. Vee, who has just wandered in and is observing this whole thing, nudges Fiona. “One day they’re gonna tie up and Lip’s going to kiss her to shut her up.”

Fiona laughs. “Nah. They’ll storm off like always. But she’s not wrong. She came by to check on him in the first place but naturally, he’s being a little bitch.”

“Not because of Karen.” Vee’s only half joking and at the mention of Karen’s name, Fiona rolls her eyes. Then she nods to you. “All she’s doing is telling my brother the truth.”

The two of them turn their attention back to the scene unfolding in front of them. By now, Lip’s back is against the door of the fridge and you’re listing off every single flaw Karen Jackson has one by one. You end with a breathy, “She’s a lying, cheating, selfish little slut, okay? I’m sorry you’re hurt, I really am. But we all tried to tell you there was a huge fucking chance the kid wasn’t even yours.”

To Fiona’s surprise, Lip hasn’t stormed off yet. And he seems to be taking it in. Staying calm. He takes a sip of the beer and drags the back of his hand over his mouth. “You about done, princess?”

You throw up your hands because you assume that nothing you’ve just said, not a damn word of it, has gotten through to the guy. “Yeah. I’m done. You accept the love you think you deserve, idiot. Think about it.”

Fiona and Vee share a puzzled look until something clicks for Vee and she gapes and promptly nudges Fiona. As she explains what she thinks you meant by the last comment you made before storming out the door of the Gallagher house, Fiona glances across the room at Lip. When she stops and really thinks about it, she’s not wrong. All the signs have always been there, Lip’s just been too blind to notice them.

Lip swings at the kitchen wall and then aggressively grabs his cigarettes and lighter before storming out to sit on the back stoop.

You stopped to take a few deep breaths, glancing back at the Gallagher house as you drag a hand through your hair. Your friends are right. Mandy was right. Maybe it’s just time to let the past -and your almost lifelong friendship with Lip Gallagher, go. Your next deep breath is shaky. You’re unsettled by what you’ve just realized. But you stand taller as if that’ll help somehow. As if it’ll make it easier to do what you’re about to try.

– ( almost three weeks later ; a block party in the South Side )

You haven’t spoken to Lip Gallagher in almost a whole month. It hasn’t been easy, especially given that Lip seems to linger, to pop up anywhere you happen to be. You weren’t planning to come out all day because of the block party going on in the streets down below, but Mandy Malkovich showed up with Ian Gallagher in tow and the two of them practically dragged you out of the house.

Now you’re out, wandering through the crowd. You’ve got a Seagram’s wine cooler in one hand and a bag of cotton candy you’re grazing on every so often in the other. You spot Lip up ahead and you immediately turn with every intention to walk away but when you turn, you find yourself body to body with an asshole named Henry who likes to pop up and corner you and every single time, it makes things uncomfortable ™ but Henry doesn’t seem to care.

You’ve got a bet going with Mandy about the jerk, he’s definitely in line to be the first incarnation of Ted Bundy or Richard Ramirez, there’s just something empty in his eyes that spooks you way too much. You gulp as Henry immediately pins you so that you don’t really have much of an escape, with your back against one of the local food trucks and his hips. As he opens his mouth to say something to you, the sour stench of beer and vomit makes you cringe hard and you roll your head away instinctively. You’re raising your knee when out of nowhere, something smashes against the back of Henry’s head and Henry slumps over.

Lip is standing there with the neck to the bottle he’s just broken over Henry’s head and he extends his leg, nudging the toe of falling apart Converses into Henry’s side and he does it hard. Then he leans down. “What’d I tell y’, huh? Leave her alone you fuckin fuck. I told y’ this was gonna happen next time you pulled your bullshit.”

You’ve done literally everything a girl can do to avoid Lip Gallagher at this point, even going as far as to find a whole new tutor and getting your schedule changed around at school just so you don’t go down any of the hallways Lip does.

That’s how serious you are about avoiding the guy. There’s no other choice but to avoid him because if you don’t, you’re going to lose your damn mind pining away while Lip chases whatever girl he’s putting up on a pedestal for the next few years til you can hopefully leave South Side behind.

You haven’t seen Lip in almost a month and somehow, seeing him right now has the exact effect you were afraid it would. Everything you feel comes rushing back all over again and there’s a tug at your heart, that empty space he occupied is gnawing at you now under the intent stare of glazed over baby blue eyes.

“I,uh.. Thank you.” you manage to get the words out and then you do the only thing you can in this situation. You bolt. You don’t run but you speedwalk away as fast as you can, putting a big chunk of drunken party goers between yourself and Lip.

Once you’re down by the corner store, you lean against the brick storefront and rest the back of your head against it as you take a few deep breaths and you fight like hell to keep from caving into the urge to go back to him and just… Pretend like nothing is wrong and your heart doesn’t break every single time he gets mixed up with a Karen or one of those preppy princess-y types he’s always oogling in the halls, the ones who only use him for his cock and then they’re done.

Because you can’t keep living like this.

And you’re so close, you’re almost free of the chokehold Lip Gallagher has on your heart.

– or you like to tell yourself you are. Deep down you know the truth and you know that you’ll probably never be free of it.

He’s shouting your name and somehow, he’s gotten both his brothers in on it too.

Ian knows you too well. So you’re not surprised when Ian finds you hiding out in the alley between the corner store and some old store with boarded up windows, smoking a cigarette as you finish off the Seagrams wine cooler you swiped from your mom’s fridge.

“Just talk to him. C’mon..”

“Ian, I can’t.”

“But you can, though! This whole thing is driving him crazy, alright? I almost can’t live with the miserable prick lately.”

You bite your lip and take a deep breath. “Talkin’s not gonna do anything, Ian. Not when I’m the one with the problem. Look.. I love him. I can’t just sit here and watch him keep chasing the little princesses or the Karens and getting fucked over because it kind of physically hurts. He deserves better, I just.. I can’t deal with him until he finally realizes it.”

You don’t realize what you’ve just done until you hear the sound of glass shattering at the top of the alley. Your head snaps up and you find a very stunned Lip Gallagher standing there with his mouth open almost comically.

Ian goes to leave and you stand because this is not how you wanted things to come out. You’re in fight or flight mode, leaning heavier to flight. You never wanted anything you just admitted to Ian to come out of your mouth at all and yet, now it has. You know you need to run, to get the hell out of this.

Because let’s face it, Running is so much easier than standing here and dealing with the aftermath and the awkwardness you think you know will be coming.

“Ian, take a walk, buddy.” Lip fixes his gaze on his brother. Ian nods and the two share a look.

You go to leave with Ian but Lip’s arm shoots out, hand resting against the brick wall close to him for purchase. Forming a barrier so you can’t escape. “Where th’ hell do you think you’re goin, huh?”

“I-I..” you stammer around your words and finally shut your mouth because nothing is coming.

For at least two or three minutes too long the air is heavy, filled with what you just confessed and a thousand other things unsaid that you’re a little too afraid to admit. You go to duck beneath his arm again but he refuses to budge. You glance up at him. “Lip, don’t.”

You tell him not to but deep down, you don’t mean it because you’re faced with losing him and now that you’re actually looking him in the eyes, you’re a little frantic. You don’t want it to happen.

But damn it, you can’t bite your tongue anymore, either.

“You’re avoidin me and I’m fucking tired of it, princess.” his eyes get a little stormy, they always do when he’s angry or upset, you know him like the back of your hand.

You place a hand palm flat against the front of his tee shirt when he steps closer just to keep a little space between the two of you because this is hard enough already and the closer he gets to you, the harder it’s going to be.

Blue eyes settle on the way your hand rests against his chest. Right over his heart.

But he doesn’t keep trying to get closer and invade your personal space. He takes a few shaky breaths instead. “What you said t’ Ian… Any of it true?”

You gulp.

“All of it.” you answer quietly, eyes trained on the word Fuck screenprinted on his shirt. You don’t dare make eye contact.

But Lip hates it when you won’t look at him, especially right now when he needs you to the most. All he wants to do is figure out why you’ve practically disappeared off the face of the Earth for the better part of three weeks because it bothers him because now he’s come to realize that he loves you and that seeing you around or hanging out -even when you wind up arguing, that was one of few things that kept him from clawing the walls.

So he grips your jaw and makes you look up at him. “I love you.”

You blink. This shocked haze settles over you and you’re barely listening to anything else he says because you’re still trying to process the first thing he says to you. Meanwhile, Lip has gotten desperate and this is what leads to him stepping up to you. Pushing you against the wall you’re both standing close to with his hips pinning yours flat as rough hands shakily skim your sides before squeezing your hips.

Your noses smash when he leans down and in towards you to kiss you and you pull away a little, holding your nose. Lip surveys your nose critically while muttering apologies over and over but then the words die away. And he’s focused again, he’s leaning in again with only one thought on his mind.

His mouth bumps yours clumsy and lazy and you’re about to pull back but you just…Can’t. Your mouth falls open ,welcoming the intrusion of his tongue as it drags over your teeth and massages yours and you feel yourself starting to come out of the daze just in time to realize what’s happening. His hand catches in your hair and he pulls your mouth in deeper, rough and thin fingers twisting and tugging at soft strands as he all but melts into you. You start to kiss back, you try to take dominance in the way your mouths meet but he’s quicker and he wants control more. You wind up wrapped around his body with your arms around his neck as your fingers rake his scalp and tug at curly hair before coming to a stop against the back of his neck. He shivers when you rub against him and melt into him just a little more and for a second or two, he nearly forgets to breathe.

The kiss finally breaks. His hand raises and it catches against the side of your face, his thumb dragging your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I just.. I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? Like..” you look down, you’re toying with the end of your shirt sleeve as it hangs over your finger because there’s a loose thread, “Even if you couldn’t… Love me… I couldn’t just sit back and keep quiet when you’re always letting yourself get hurt.”

“But I do love y’.” he answers quietly. He’s grabbing your face again, his forehead against yours with the warmth and the smell of cigarettes, beer and the fried pickles he ate earlier lingering on his breath, “I mean that. I always had, just..” he hesitates. Swallows hard. “You’re too fuckin good for me, princess.”

“Lip, don’t…” you take a deep breath. “Stop saying that!”

“It’s true.” he shrugs.

“It’s lies.” you pout up at him.

“Agree to disagree?” he questions and you both laugh quietly.

“C’mon. Let’s go lay under th’ tracks and watch the trains go over.” he mumbles with a laugh and then he takes off at a run with you and you’re clinging to him, laughing. Smiling.

Because maybe everybody’s wrong.

Maybe sometimes, there are reasonably happy endings. Maybe, you think to yourself, this can be one of them.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher oneshot #lip gallagher x best friend!fem reader #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher x reader

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tapioca-puddingg · 5 months

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Master Eraqus Ain't Shit

So I decided to wake up and choose violence today.

"Oh brother, this guy stinks!"

In Dark Road, we see that Eraqus has always had the same black and white mentality. He’s always believed that only light should exist, and that darkness should be destroyed. Even Xehanort, who was the same age as him, could understand that there needs to be a balance between light and darkness.

And even well into his old age, Eraqus never changed his mindset.

This line of thinking was so pervasive that it stopped him from making Terra a keyblade master. If Terra had never visibly manifested his darkness, it’s possible that both him and Aqua could’ve been made keyblade masters. Not that I’m blaming Terra or anything, I’m just sayin.

Xehanort told Terra in Radiant Garden that he could study under Eraqus for years, and yet he would never make him a master. I think he’s 100% right.

Both Terra and Aqua would end up internalizing this mindset in different ways:

Since he was on the receiving end of the darkness slander, Terra developed a deep insecurity. And some of the villains, especially Xehanort, were able to take advantage of him partially as a result of this insecurity and partially due to his own naivety. His journey was all about finding out how to control it, but bc he wasn’t properly mentored on how to do so, he failed.

Aqua took on this mentality along with Eraqus’s self-righteousness. She was about to prematurely attack or possibly even kill Lady Tremaine, Anastasia, and Drizella if she hadn’t been stopped by Fairy Godmother. And later on, I feel like this mentality contributed to her thinking differently of Terra. But then again, there was a lot of miscommunication between the three of them. And that miscommunication caused a rift in their friendship.

And with Ventus, when Eraqus learned that Xehanort was planning on using him to form the X-blade, his immediate response was to kill him. Albeit, with some remorse.

Like sir, that’s your friend. You decided to let him back into your life after he wrote that sorry ass apology letter to you. You invited him back into your home. That means he manipulated you too. If he’s the one that’s putting your kids in danger, you need to go after him, not Ventus.

Imagine for a second if Terra had arrived too late (or didn’t arrive at all) and Eraqus succeeded in killing Ventus. The amount of emotional damage that would’ve done to him and Aqua is unfathomable. He put both Ven and Terra in so much danger. Yes, in the end, he realized the atrocity that he almost committed, but it was too little too late. He was lucky that the best-case-scenario happened. Well, I guess the best-case-scenario would have been for all of them to survive and jump Xehanort, but it's better that the kids survived.

As a follow up to that, imagine if Terra lost the fight and was killed. Eraqus is a master keyblader after all, so he's no slouch in battle. He whooped my ass many times when I played it recently. But anyways, that could’ve been two bodies on Eraqus’ hands. He is so unfit to be a mentor to anyone.

SPOILERS for Dark Road: now given what Eraqus and Xehanort went thru in DR, it makes sense as to why he would have such an extreme response to darkness. The fact that darkness is what killed their classmates, and the fact that Xehanort had to put down Baldur himself when he got corrupted. That moment would change the both of them forever. And any child would be deeply traumatized in seeing their friends get murdered on by one. But it doesn’t excuse what he attempted to do. Again, he put the lives of two of his three students in danger.

As a rewrite for this scene, maybe he could’ve contacted Aqua and told her to come home immediately once he realized what was happening. Maybe go to Yen Sid’s tower and link up with Mickey, Donald and Goofy, and the six of them plan a coordinated jumping on Xehanort. Sometimes ppl need to be jumped, you know? Like “Hey, Xehanort has gone off the deep end. He nearly used Ven to try to form the X-blade. We need to stop him before he tries this again.”

EDIT: I did really enjoy the reunion scene in KH3. It was nice that the Wayfinder trio at least got to see him one last time.

And in his character file, Terra feels immense guilt and wants Eraqus's forgiveness. I can only imagine the amount of guilt one would feel after an experience like that. There was no way he could predict the consequence of being Xehanort's pawn for 10 years.

But as a childhood trauma survivor, I know as much as the next survivor that you don't owe your parents/parental figures forgiveness. They owe you. Eraqus should've been the one asking for Terra's forgiveness, not the other way around.

I think bc he's presented as one of the "good guys" some folks may have been quick to overlook some of his actions.

But then again, if he did everything perfectly, this wouldn’t be as interesting to talk about.

TDLR: Eraqus fucked around and found out

Thanks for coming to my TED talk

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sungbeam · 8 months

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requests, the third round

a/n: yk,, i always say im not good with requests, but sometimes, i really do just need a whole system reboot and to look at other people's ideas 💀 so this is me trying 🤸‍♀️

NOW OPEN FROM TODAY, SEPT. 5TH TO FRIDAY, SEPT. 8TH !! NOW CLOSED

some ground rules:

✶ remember that i am Not Good At Requests. if i don't end up getting to yours/give up on them, then i'm sorry. if u want a guaranteed fic, u prob shouldn't come to my inbox :')

✶ this is my mainly sfw blog; pls keep all requests pg-13, suggestive at the most. here's a sample of how far i'm willing to go for the sake of readers on this blog.

✶ i'm very much willing to write about death, grief, violence, and blood, to an extent. pls do not send a request romanticizing toxic and/or abusive relationships, bc i will delete it.

✶ i write fem reader at default, but i am very much open to gn reader too. just be sure to specify!

✶ would i write a love triangle? a love square? a love octagon??? (yes, i'm bringing this back) if u want it, and i have the energy for it, lmk LMAO

✶ ONCE YOU HAVE SENT IN A REQUEST, i will update this post below the cut with requests i've received so far. pls check there for if i've seen your ask :]

how to request:

send a prompt(s)/au/song inspo/etc + genre(s) + desired idol boyo(s)!!

— i'll write for anyone from the EIGHT groups i have a masterlist for LOL (prob an emphasis on tbz but maybe this'll get me back to ncity, who knows)

— some prompt ideas: dialogue. question starters. fluff. hozier for vibes. from a villain. werewolf by night quotes.

request queue!

— if u told me i don't have to use all the prompts, i still put them down just so i have all the ideas in one place ^_^

lee hyunjae x "you feel like home to me" x debut/predebut era — from anon

jung wooyoung x "i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me" x "there’s nothing sweeter than my baby" x fluff, suggestive — from @jaehunnyy

lee hyunjae x e2l x "i don't understand why you have to torment me every second of the day! you were a sweetheart when you left, obviously life happened and now you're a devil! what the fuck, lee jaehyun?!" x "you don't understand how i think of you everyday when we were apart" x "i'm not saying that i'm using you but could you fix me? put me back together?" — from anon

kim sunwoo x e2l x spy au x angst x "working together again, it’s just like old times." x "clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place." x "the only one who gets to kill you, is me." x "enemies make the best lovers, you know. " x "why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood?" — from @shakalakaboomboo

hwang intak or yoon keeho x “it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break.” x hurt/comfort — from anon

eric sohn x bffs2l x "was that your first kiss?" x "you can kiss me, you know." — from @mosviqu

eric sohn x “i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you” x “promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up?” — from @ericlvr

lee sangyeon x spy au x "what are you doing out here by yourself?" x "you gonna be a good girl for me?" x "they're dangerous? well unfortunately, so am i." x suggestive/action — from @winterchimez

choose an idol boy 😋 x actors au x e2l x happy ending by svt — from 🌷 anon

idol boy selection in progress x corpse bride au x horror — from 🌷 anon

lee juyeon(?) x soc/helnik au x "i fell in love with the fire long ago." — from @hqrana

xu minghao x "when i was a child, i heard voices… some would sing and some would scream." x "i’m standing in the ashes of who i used to be." x shang-chi au x angst and/or comfort — from @tranquilpetrichor

jacob bae or ji changmin x hozier's francesca x hurt/comfort, angst x a love that endures — from @zzoguri

ji changmin x new year's day (taylor swift) x fluff, comfort — from anon

jacob bae x band au x secret muse/songwriter au x vancouver by big naughty x busking — from @hongyangi

choi chanhee x e2l x she fell first, but he fell harder trope x banter/teasing — from @richasdiary

lee hyunjae x royalty au x poor girl/servant girl x royalty/prince au — from anon

lee hyunjae x bad boy good girl trope — from anon

kevin moon x older brother's best friend x secret relationship x "good morning, sleeping beauty." x "is that my shirt?" x "you look good like this." x "are you trying to get us in trouble?" x "are you sure this is a good idea?" x fluff, suggestive — from @confuchan

lee juyeon x "we can't keep doing this" x bffs 2 lovers — from anon

choi beomgyu x heartbreak girl by 5sos x angst, uber fluffy ending — from @loveliestfelix

lee jeno x best friends 2 lovers x dress by taylor swift — from anon

eric sohn x hands by flatsound x angst with or without a happy ending — from anon

eric sohn x “is that my shirt?” x fluff/suggestive — from anon

lee hyunjae x "you can hold my hand, if you want." x zombie apocalypse au — from anon

kim sunwoo x sweet nothing by taylor swift — from anon

#the boyz x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #wayv x reader #nct 127 x reader #txt x reader #enhypen x reader #ateez x reader #p1harmony x reader #stray kids x reader #seventeen x reader #part of me feels like imma regret this.... we'll see how i feel tonight and tmr

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cartierdreamx · 1 year

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Hacked into you - 4 (AU)

Hi loves!! Hope you’re well, so sorry for the wait, I’ve been so busy with uni (I’m Australian, which actually shows in the way I write if you guys can see that haha), thank you so much for the support and your interests in the story, again a lot of this story is based off of the game Watchdogs 2, so if anything is confusing, comment down and I can try my best to explain it! Google also might be a better option though hehe. Also, I’d love to know what you guys think of the story so far and if you have any questions, comment down below!! If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when I release a new chapter, comment down below too!!

Anyways, enjoy this chapter, J <3

READ PART 3 PART 2 PART 1

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, mention of weapons

*I plan to write smut in this story and it does have some dark themes like violence involved, the game itself was rated MA15+ where I am from (might be different depending which country you are in) so my fic will be 18+ because I am involving more adult themes, if you do choose to proceed, please keep that in mind*

DIVINITY - 4

If Jenna was a sin, she’d be the indulgence I’d partake in, against the divine law.

Her gaze softened with city lights reflecting in her eyes, I know she’s going to say yes, her eyes tell me everything, her relaxed shoulders wants to welcome me in, and the slight smirk she raises, the world would be safe and small the second her head lays on my chest.

She sighs with sorry eyes.

Fuck. I thought wrong, am I stupid to think that she would stay the night with me, in my arms? Maybe, I read into her actions too much and all of that flirting was just her being friendly, I am new to the team after all. But surely it wasn’t all in my head, that we really have something.

I close my eyes and look down to my hands and let out a soft chuckle,

“Ah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that”.

“No, no, b, it’s okay, I just, I don’t know if it would be the best idea, we both have to go into HQ tomorrow and it’s your first mission, I don’t want to distract you”.

“I understand, Jen, well sleep tight, if you need anything help yourself to anything in the fridge, pantry and the bathroom is the first door right next to the front door”.

“Goodnight y/n”.

“Goodnight”, I smile back at her.

After she leaves the room, so many thoughts race through my head, most of it is the memories of the past day from the start of initiation to now, mainly, it was her, Jenna, every look she gave me, every smile, and the words she spoke to me. “B”, from the second she called me that, it would be engraved on my heart forever. I realise I must get some sleep, in about 5 hours, I have to go into HQ and start my first mission. A mix of adrenaline and nervousness is running through my bloodstream, this is my cue to go to sleep, I take one more look at the city and feelings of sonder arises, I smile and reach for the remote that controls the curtains that drapes over the floor-to-ceiling windows.

*5 HOURS LATER*

The sunlight peaks through my eyelid and the smell of cinnamon greets my senses, it was a delightful smell and the weather looked beautiful, the automatic curtains obviously beat me to waking up. Today is such a beautiful day, it just sucks there are corrupt and evil people out there, butttt it helps knowing we’re trying to take them down. I get out of bed and stretch the rest of my tiredness away, I hop in my bathroom and take a quick shower, when I walk out of my room changed, Jenna is in the kitchen finishing her cooking.

“Well, sleeping beauty finally wakens”.

“Hmm without a kiss though” taking a stab at her.

“You’re not funny”, she scoffs,

“Yeah, but the redness on your face says otherwise” taking another stab at her.

“Yeah, yeah whatever, you’re one strike away from not eating breakfast” now taking a stab at me.

I would be lying to myself if I said she wasn’t the first thing on my mind when I woke up, I just hope I was on hers too. The food looks delicious, waffles with cinnamon undertones, eggs and turkey bacon and apple juice.

“Yuck y/n, apple juice? Just for this act alone, I would kick you out of Dedsec”.

“Oh c’mon, as if you prefer orange juice”.

“No, but I’d drink a gallon of it before I touch apple”.

“You’re actually insane, but the spread looks very nice, very delicious”.

“Thank you, kind lady, don’t get used to it though”. She winks at me.

“Okay stop flirting with me and finish your food”.

“You’re on a thin line, y/n”, she walks up to me and my heart beats fasted than ever before, she’s not taller than me but I’m sitting down on a stool against my island so the power is in her hands, she steps even closer and reaches her arm out behind me which only brings her even closer, now she’s leaning her entire body towards me, I can feel her heat radiating off her skin, the heat I craved last night with me, the only heat that’s better than any blanket that wraps around my body.

“Sorry, I needed the salt” she teases,

“Didn’t season the food, Ms Ortega?”

“Shut up and eat, you need the energy for today, which speaking of, we have an hour till we have to get to HQ, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“That’s my girl” she praises,

“Hmm, not your girl, now go relax and I’ll do the dishes.”

“No-.”

I cut her off “you cooked, I’ll clean, it’s only fair,” from then, she gets up and raises both hands up,

“You got it boss!”

I chuckle at her statement and get started on cleaning, there isn’t much to clean so I just handwash the plates instead of wasting water on the dishwasher, usually I watch something while washing dishes but this time my entertainment comes in a form of Jenna looking out into the city, watching everyone go about their day, the sun kisses her skin, I take a deep breath and splash my face to get her out of my head. No distractions. It doesn’t work, because now she’s running through my mind like a marathon.

“Okay, all done, let’s go before Marcus kills me.”

“I’d let him, to be honest, and plus I run Dedsec not Marcus.”

Dedsec doesn’t work as a hierarchy, that would be hypocritical of them, however it’s an unspoken thing that Marcus leads the SF team, it’s not a bad thing, he’s sweet, and he acts like more of a brother than a leader I’ve heard. The SF team consists of, Marcus, Wrench, Josh, Sitara, Ray also known as Tbone and Jenna, well now me. There was another team member before, Horatio, I heard he was the sweetest and he was very smart, but unfortunately, he got caught by a gang, known as the Tezcas who wanted to hunt down Dedsec members and was unfortunately stabbed to death. He got his justice though when Marcus and the team avenged him. And of course, I cant forget, the Dedsec members/followers in bay area, they provide us with information and help on missions, acting as informants, we wouldn’t be here without them and we’re growing by the minute.

“Okayyyyy Jenna, whatever you say, now let’s go.”

We head towards the garage of the building, on the way saying hi and bye to Alfred at the same time, once we get to the garage, I lead her towards my safeguarded area of the garage where my vehicles rest.

“Holy shit.”

“Like what you see?” I elbow her softly,

“Who the hell are you?”

“Y/n…”

She tsks “you know what I mean, did you steal them?”

“Hey! I worked hard for these thank you very much, by taking down evil, rich people and maybe taking a bit of their money for me.”

“There’s the twist.”

“Oh, don’t start, Dedsec does the same, take from the rich and give to the vulnerable, now my fair lady, pick your poison.”

She walks around the vehicles, with each one she sees her eyes widen even more, she’s in awe, I mean to be fair, I was too.

“This one.”

“Good choice, she’s, my favourite.”

She’s referring to my crimson red motorcycle, the Sayonara. My favourite vehicle to ride, and super-fast too, it took me a bit to get used to the speed.

“What can I say, I’ve got a good eye, and the need, the need for speed.”

“Okay, never say that again if you want to ride with me.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever, anyways, I’ve always wanted to ride one, I see people riding them around the city, always going too fast for their own good.”

“Maybe you’ve seen me.”

“Maybe.”

I pass her a motorcycle jacket that’ll keep her warm and protect her from the speed and drag while riding, along with a helmet for extra protection, the most important protection, might I add.

“Hold on tight.”

As we cruise through the warm yet cooling San Francisco breeze, I can feel Jenna’s grip on my waist get tighter every time I sped up, I decide it’s time to put on a show. I see a clear street, put the bike in the right gear and tell Jenna to hold on. Next thing you know I’m reaching 120km an hour and then I hear the most excruciating noise, sirens, police sirens.

“Lose them, b” Jenna instigates but in a flirtatious manner.

“Hold on even tighter.”

After that, I’m swerving, trying to avoid crashes and trying to lose the police, 5 minutes in and now I have about 2 cars trying to catch me.

“They’re getting closerrr.”

“Have some faith, Jen.”

2 minutes later, the police sirens die down as the sounds dilute, from that, I start slowing down, and lucky enough I see the HQ, I ride into the nearby alleyway and park.

“WOOOOOOO” Jenna screams into my ears and jumps on me and gives me a hug as we get off the bike. “FUCK THAT WAS FUN.”

I laugh at her,

“I’m glad you enjoyed the ride.”

“Do you always ride like that?”

I reach for her helmet to help her take it off,

“Depends on what I’m riding,” I wink at her.

She rolls her eyes at me and makes her way towards the building, “you’re so annoying” I hear her say faintly as she continues to walk away.

“YOU LOVE ME” I yell back at her, I run up to her as she’s my way in, the building of the HQ is disguised as a fully functional comic book shop, fully stocked with figurines and games, every nerds and geeks dreams, but in the back, there’s a discrete hidden door, behind the ‘janitor’s closet,’ the HQ, also known as a hackerspace can only be accessed with the code and right now, I don’t know the code. San Francisco is where the main hackerspace is, where we reside, but there’s other ones with other people working away at right now, one in Oakland and one in Silicon Valley, both also very discrete.

As we head in, we bolt directly to the back, making sure we don’t linger too long up top, Jenna punches in the code and the door slides open,

“The code’s 53662, and if you forget it, goodluck.”

I give her a nod, letting her know I understand, as we walk in and walk down the stairs the walls are adorned with graffiti, but not the ones you see in random alleyways but the ones that could be framed in a museum, they all tell a story, they all speak Dedsec.

“Heyyy, there you are fresh meat, thought you pussied out.” Wrench exclaims,

“Me? Never, just got caught in a little action.”

“Oh, we know, it was a lot of fun to watch, gotta do it all with us one day.” Marcus daps me up,

“You guys saw?”

They all stand in front of me and stare deeply into my soul, their left irises light up blue with hints of grey.

Sitara steps forward and hands me a small box,

“This here is your SI also known as smart iris, we in the hackerspace can see what you can, what you hear and also your vitals, don’t worry though, these only turn on when you’re in action, so you can breathe and relax about your private life, what you do in your little penthouse is your business.”

“Little is an understatement,” Jenna chuckles,

“Okay okay, Jenna’s seen it, you guys should come over sometime.”

Wrench’s mask lights up a smiley face, “dude, fuck yeah.”

“I’ll bring the drinks,” a middle-aged white man walks towards me and offers his hand, I accept his shake.

“Woah, you’re Tbone, it’s an honour to be working with you, hell to even be standing in front of you.”

“I like you, kid, and I’m flattered, you’ve got this fire Dedsec needs, and you’re crazy talented, I watched your initiation, pretty impressive things.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, sir is for the CEOs.”

“And, you must be Josh, nice to meet you.”

“Hi y/n, it’s very nice to meet you too.”

“Alright, kid” Marcus walks up to me,

“Are you ready for your first official mission?”

“Very.”

“Okay so, you’ll be running it with me, kind of like my shadow but don’t think less of yourself, we are an equal, the rest of the guys will be back here watching us, doing their own thing, and guiding us through points, that’s also Jenna’s main job, she will let us know of any alerts, cameras and guards we need to neutralize. For your first mission, nothing big, basically you know the rapper, Bobo Dakes?”

“Yeah, I love him, he’s about to release a new album?”

“Yes, he is and we all love him” Jenna continues on, “this big big shot pharmacist, Gene Carcani, also known as the most hated man in America right now, he’s raising the prices of leukaemia medicine so he gets more money, and funny enough, he’s also a big Bobo fan who is offering him millions of dollars to keep the album for himself.”

“What a dickhead, so first he takes advantage of the vulnerable and second he wants to become more selfish by keeping art to himself.”

“And it is your job to take him down, this includes taking every penny he has, we’ll use that money to support cancer foundations.”

“Well, kid, let’s get going.”

I grab my helmet and say bye to the team and grab a weapon, a glock to be specific, something light to get me through, but this is just for precaution, I will only shoot as a last resort, I have other means of neutralizing an enemy, I know martial arts for a reason, and I have my trusty melee weapon. I place my SI in and start heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, b.”

I turn around and see Jenna, she grabs my s/c hand and caress it, her touch is soft and cool, complimenting my warmth.

“Be careful and stay safe, I want you here breathing.”

“Yes ma’am, and plus, don’t worry, you got my back.”

She chuckles.

“I got you.”

@pimpcesskm

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader

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ficbrish · 8 months

Text

Tiny Scene Tuesday

[22Aug2023]

Today's three little words: Theft, Lump, Youth

[Create a short piece (art or fic) that encompasses those 3 words]

Thank you @mallaidhsomo for the prompt!

Any stray Shenkos out there, come join the Big Place Shenko Discord for weekly art/fic prompts! ✨

"Her Father Was Not a Good Man"

[[tw/cw: Implied domestic violence, childhood PTSD, beheading]]

Ever since she learned about the duct rats, they broke her heart. Youths living in the bowels of buildings and space stations. Spilled out from the womb and into filth, surviving on crime and the hope that nothing bad happens when they’re inevitably caught; breadcrumb to breadcrumb.

She also envied their freedom.

Or maybe it was just a different fear that adorned their shoulders. A different kind of monster in the cave.

No, don’t think of him.

His eyes contained a poison that rotted just under her skin since birth. Powerful eyes. Gnashing eyes. They looked so weak falling to the floor, filled with shock and her mother’s scream.

His body took a moment to collapse. His head still had his face on it, his expression.

“One terrible, horrible, disgustingly unhealthy, waste of my life’s work, wake up potion for you, and a nice, normal, healthy water for me.”

Shepard swallowed the lump sitting on the back of her tongue, “It’s coffee, Miranda.”

“I don’t think you can still call it coffee. There’s enough caffeine to give a Krogan a heart attack. In both hearts!”

She took a sip despite Miranda’s glare.

“See? I’m okay. Don’t feel anything different.”

“It doesn’t work that fast!”

“Can you figure out how to make it work that fast?”

“No!” Miranda sat down next to Shepard in a huff.

“You brought me back from the dead.”

“It’s not a question of whether I can. I refuse!”

Shepard wiped away a tear.

“Oh no! No, you don’t. Those big, baby blues aren’t gonna work on me.”

She shook her head and sunk back into the plush couch in Miranda’s room. It made her body remember the hard, Alliance-standard chairs in the SR-1, and her heart took a moment to ache for it.

“If you could change things, would you ever choose to grow up like Mouse?”

It took Miranda a moment, “Wait. Thane’s duct rat?”

Shepard cringed, “Don’t�� Don’t say it like that.”

“What?”

“It just…” she started to laugh, “It sounds really bad coming out of your mouth. Thane’s duct rat?!”

Miranda laughed too, “I did not say it like that!”

“You did! You so did!” When the laughter stopped, she asked, “So would you?”

“Why are you asking this?”

Shepard shrugged her shoulders, looking into her cup of “coffee”.

“I mean… That’s basically what I chose in the end, right? Getting away from my father. Giving up everything.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I mean… come on. You traded one for the other,” she gestured vaguely about the room, “You never actually pulled away.”

“I’m sorry,” Miranda said with unabashed snark, “I guess I didn’t get the memo that we were being a bitch today.”

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s both, Shepard.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Miranda took a sip and threw Shepard’s question back to her as a peace offering, “So… What would you do?”

A chuckle that was more like a huff left her lips, then she answered, “My father or no home at all?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed, “I don’t know.”

Miranda wasn’t sure whether a hug was warranted, so she took a big gulp of her water instead.

Shepard spoke again, “Imagine who we’d be without all that.”

“I really think we’d be too powerful,” she quipped.

“Oh! For sure! I mean us without our shitty fathers?”

“Jacob might’ve been my only ex.”

That broke them into a fit of laughter.

“We were sabotaged by fate, or the goddess, or whatever.”

“Theft, that’s what it is,” Miranda joked darkly.

[Read more snippets on AO3 🥰]

#tiny scene tuesday #mass effect #mass effect 2 #BrishFics #estrella shepard #miranda lawson #big place discord #server games

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scarlett-vixen · 2 years

Note

GOD i crave violence. I CRAVE VIOLENCE SOO BAD. today finished a 5 hour shift at the restaurant and now i have a 45 minute break to eat and change before my 8 hour shift at the haunted woods starts, so i asked my dad to feed my pets and he said no because hE’s bEeN wOrKiNg tOo (he fixed his friend’s air conditioner and got paid three grand for it) (also he’s in bed taking a nap because he doesn’t have anything else to do today)

Beelzebub, 6th born demon brother and Avatar of Gluttony would never do this to me. ANYWAY if it’s not too much trouble can i have some hcs of coming home to beel after a day like mine? i won’t be back on until like 2 AM but yea i need my big boy 🍔

Beloved I’m SO sorry for taking so long to answer this. I know it’s no longer the night that you were upset but I did come up with some hc’s 💖 life got a little busy but I’m good now.

Coming home after a long day

• Beel can always tell when you’re having a rough day at work, the way you text him changes and he knows something is up. He may ask what’s wrong or he may just wait depending on how busy he is at the moment, but he’s never too busy to do something if you ask him.

• If you come home at a normal hour (before dinner) he’ll sit in your room while you change/shower/get ready for dinner and listen to you vent about your day if you feel like it.

• He’ll let you choose what to do for dinner: let him take you out to your favorite restaurant and then come home for a relaxing evening or let him make you dinner at home, the two of you would eat away from the brothers so you can relax without their rowdy dinner conversations.

• Regardless of your decision the night ends in a major cuddle session, maybe watching a movie or just your favorite tv show, he’ll make sure you’re as comfy as possible and rub your back while you lay your head on his chest until you both fall asleep.

• If you come home at an ungodly hour (after midnight) things are a little different. He’ll be sitting in your room waiting on you, he’s already got a bath running with warm water, he’ll help you wash your hair if you let him, he’ll definitely help you dry it (he’s used to taking care of Belphie)

• Once you change into pajamas you’re not allowed to walk anymore, Beel carries you to the kitchen and sets you gently on the counter, he makes a small meal for the two of you to share, both enjoying the stillness of the giant mansion.

• After eating he’ll carry you back to your bed, he puts on some soothing music or maybe turns the tv on for some soft background noise. The two of you curl up in the bed together and he’ll let you tell him all about your day, hanging on every word you say.

• If you don’t feel like talking that’s fine too, the two of you can just lay together while you destress and he holds you close to his chest. He would do anything you ask of him, anything that would help make things easier on you.

• The two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. The next morning he makes you breakfast/lunch just for the two of you, depending on when you wake up❤️

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me beelzebub #the void responds #🍔 anon

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toh-infodumping · 2 years

Text

Added B-Plots and Additional Notes

Notes:

Hunter’s name is Hunter in this AU due it being an actual mission under Belos’s orders. And with the public not knowing his name (most of the scouts don’t even know his name, let alone some of the coven heads) Belos gave him the ok.

He is CONSTANTLY working. He every day involves: him wakes up from only getting 2 hours (if he even gets that), goes to the coven meeting/checking in with Belos, heads to school, does school and most of his homework there, goes back to his castle, becomes the Golden Guard, starts doing his other duties of catching wild witches and Palismen, comes home, finishes homework, studies for a bit, and sleeps if able. Repeat, He manages to squeeze in a meal when he can.

He has a dislike for Lilith as he believes she isn’t suited for being head coven of the Emperor’s Coven but he also never does anything to throw her under the bus. He knows she’ll do that herself.

Also don't like Kikimora. They have a tense relationship.

When kids do try to bully/humiliate/prank Hunter by using magic on him, he retaliates with physical violence. In addition, no one there understands why! “Why don’t you just use your magic like everyone else!?” Which, Hunter will say, “I don’t need too. You make it easy to beat you.” And that’s how he gets the reputation of being known as the kid that CHOOSES to not use his powers.

Hunter enrolled at the beginning or very close to the beginning of the school year. So he’s been in school for a solid month (or however long it's been) before Luz gets there.

He prefers to be alone so he can focus on his assignment; both school’s and Belos’s.

B-Plot - Finding Hunter’s Uncle’s Restaurant

Luz, wanting to make friends with the lonely potions boy, approaches him. “Hello Hunter! You’re always so alone! And rumored to be weird!”

Hunter is caught off guard, “I’m sorry?”

“But you don’t have to be alone any longer! You can join our group! We— can’t change the fact you’re weird but–! We can hang out today! Willow, Gus and I are going-” Luz continues.

Which makes Hunter laugh, “Haha! What?? Noo. No, I don’t need friends. And even if I *did* wanted to hang out after school, I can’t. I have work.”

This causes Willow, Gus, and Luz to question him about this. “You work? What do you work as?” (Hunter looks around and makes up something) “Your uncle runs a restaurant? What’s it called?” (Hunter looks around again and makes something up) - Entire conversation in the photo.

But for the rest of the episode, it’s these three trying to find Trash Lights on Knee Pit that doesn’t exist. Hunter is unaware that they did this.

B-Plot - Tutor Please!

Luz is having difficulty with this potion. She expresses it to her group, which one of then suggests asking Hunter - the protege in potions for help.

Hunter doesn't want to train her. Man, does he NOT want to do this. And when Luz approaches him, he turns her down. However, Luz being Luz, puses and begs.

Causes a cat-mouse chase B-plot episode with Luz chasing after the potions boy for him to be her tutor.

A lot of "Human! The potion isn't hard!" "Well maybe for you! But I'm a little confused so if you can just-" "Read the instructions!! You can read, can't you?? Human's can see!"

It ends with Hunter caving and helping her out with the potions but refusing to open up. Just "Fine." (He puts his books on Luz's desk startling her) "Hunter!" (He sits by her) "I'm going to help you with this and thats it. See this? This means-" and the audio fades.

Hunter really doesn't open up either. He just passes on his knowledge, helps Luz understand and call it good. Luz however, sees this as "Oh so he CAN become my friend. He's just playing hard to get >:3"

#toh #undercover student au #toh hunter #toh luz #just a little thing as my mind continues to rotate the finale and hunter around #minds so full of microwave noises and i just wanna focus on analysis postd

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kjwrites9 · 1 year

Text

The Clinic on Knoxville By: Beth Carr

*A one-woman play, exploring the mental trauma healthcare workers go through after an act of violence* Notes * note stage directions and/or insights from the author.

Hello all! Thank you for inviting me to speak at this year’s National Reproductive Health Conference, this is quite an honor. My name is Dr. Candace Bloom, but my friends call me Candy. I am a board-certified gynecologist and personally certified hoot-and-a-half at parties.

*joke doesn’t land* oof tough crowd, *take a sip of water.*

*joke does land* *sigh* woah my husband warned me that joke would flop, but I knew y’all would have my back. *sip of water*

For the past 14 years, I’ve worked at a small midwestern planned parenthood office. I always tell people, the most important thing you should know about me is that I love my job. I went into this field specifically to help people in crisis, I wanted to be there as a mechanism of support, never shame. So straight out of residency, I knew that working at Planned Parenthood would be the natural fit. Our office was small, and for the most part, things were uneventful. The door to the clinic is on the back side of the building, so patients rarely had to interact with protesters if we even had any. So, I’m sure you’re wondering okay… so why did this lady title this talk “what to do when your job is on fire ” if her clinic is so quiet and perfect. And the truth is it really was quiet - until it wasn’t.

--------------------------------------------------------

So when your job is on fire, your mind kind of goes blank. Well, at first you think holy shit, but other than that it’s kind of quiet in your mind. You’re not sure if you’re angry, or sad, I think it’s just too many emotions at once. It is like if a train hit you but you don’t realize it for the first hour and then all the sudden all the pain comes at once and you –

– are pregnant Miss Wilson. I want you to know you have a couple of options going forward, however, your timeframe is extremely short. —so that is 100% still an option, but it would have to be made by the end of the week just to be safe. —i’m sorry. i know that is so quick. trust and believe if it were up to me…well, a lot of things would be different. —hey hey, no no no. don’t cry. i’m here for you. whatever you choose to do i’m going to support you 1000%. but i can’t make this choice for you. you are the only one who walks in those *looks down and notices her shoes.* very cute sneakers you have on. —you’re very welcome. why don’t you go home and sleep on it and come back and we can talk more in depth about your options. Good *looks at computer* looks like i have a 4:30 tomorrow, does that work for you? excellent. now miss wilson, i’ll let you have the room

if you don’t have any further questions, but just know you are capable of making this choice! you are strong. and i’ll see you tomorrow.

*she leaves the room and goes to a sink. Throws away gloves and washes her hands. Puts a clipboard up in a holder. types on her keyboard for a minute and notices how late it is. maybe yells off stage* - Paula? you still here? —i figured. well i’m heading out for the day. you go home now. the office will be fine until the morning. —i know you’ve got the calls, just make them in the morning. yes i’m sure. have a good night Paula! Another nurse approaches.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey hun! I’m home. Today was good. Couple new cases of chlymidia…but what else is new in this town?? hey thanks for cooking it smells amazing by the way. –no actually. –*laughs* I’m serious. I’m really not doing any work tonight. So we can get crazy. you know. watch some hulu. have a glass of wine. maybe if we are feeling extra crazy we can break out the scrabble. —yes. i am still the party animal you married. aren’t you lucky.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

*phone is buzzing, candace and dan fell asleep on the couch and she is woken up by the ringer*

Dan, honey wake up - we fell asleep on the couch again. – Hold on my phone is blowing up, one second. –hello? –yes, this is she. What? Oh my gosh is everything okay no one was in the building? Right? Please tell me that. Oh thank god. Okay I’m on my way. What do you mean wait? No I can’t just sit here I’m coming up there.

Dan, the office is on fire. They don’t know what happened, but the whole place is burning. i have to get up there. i have to see it for myself.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*she see’s the building and is just flooded with emotion*

*goes back home*

*she has no words to say, but she has to take this horrible sight in all at once. the level of pain cannot be described.

—-———

*She sits on the couch, opens her laptop, and calls the patient.* Hello. Hi is this Miss Wilson? Good. this is Dr. Bloom from planned parenthood. I, I can’t say much right now. IK we told you you could come in today, but you are going to have to find somewhere else to go.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m sorry to be emotional up here. I tried really hard to keep this professional and put together. But I guess really, there is nothing put together or predictable about real life. I know you all know this pain and this fear better than anyone…but every time I think about it, I just can’t help but cry and be mad, because all of this pain was the result of one guy who thought he knew best. And that that vision of best included setting a building on fire. Who is he to block healthcare? To try and harm women? He’s nobody. I’m so sorry for yelling, but i’m just so tired. And every time I close my eyes I can still see that building on fire. Okay, if you haven’t heard anything i’ve said today, that’s fine but please here this. You have to promise me, you will take what I’ve said and you will use it. You will continue to fight for education, for health, and for the people who walk into our clinics. Becasue they deserve better than this. And we do too. We do too.

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littlelovelymemes · 3 years

Text

𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 : 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

‘ i’ll find you again , wherever we end up next . ’

‘ the enormity of my desire disgusts me . ’

‘ please , one more kiss in the kitchen before we turn the lights off . ’

‘ i’ve been lost but i’m here now . you’re the only person who has ever been able to find me . ’

‘ almost dead yesterday , maybe dead tomorrow , but alive , gloriously alive , today . ’

‘ you are not broken . ’

‘ you can love and be loved , despite what may feel like the eternally brutal nature of the world . ’

‘ i did violence to my own heart . ’

‘ will i be forgiven for the sins i did not commit , but created ? ’

‘ i would never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn me like the sun . ’

‘ i would rather break the world than lose you . ’

‘ i think you and i have known each other in a few lifetimes . ’

‘ i didn’t know . i had no idea how greedy my heart really was . ’

‘ is that why the idea of losing you torments me so much ? ’

‘ how long have i been without you ? ’

‘ am i foolish for wanting this ? it will end in flames . it always does . ’

‘ sorry about the blood in your mouth . i wish it was mine . ’

‘ if i love you , is that a fact or a weapon ? ’

‘ tell me how all this , and love too , will ruin us . ’

‘ and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be . ’

‘ it cannot be a mistake to have cared . it cannot be an error to have tried . it cannot be incorrect to have loved . ’

‘ finally , i plead guilty of adoring you . ’

‘ a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort . ’

‘ without realizing , i find it in myself that i cannot stop thinking about you . ’

‘ tomorrow , when i wake up , i promise , i will be better . ’

‘ someone has to leave first . this is a very old story . there is no other version of this story . ’

‘ when i imagine myself , i am always leaving . i couldn’t draw my own face if god asked . ’

‘ do we simply stare at what’s horrible and forgive it ? ’

‘ i wanted to let go of the pain even though it was the last thing that felt alive from you . ’

‘ have i endured loneliness with grace ? ’

‘ i’ll be your slaughterhouse , your killing floor , your morgue and final resting , walking around with this bullet inside me ‘cause i couldn’t make you love me and i am tired of pulling your teeth . ’

‘ and then my soul saw you and kind of went , ‘ oh , there you are . i’ve been looking for you . ’ ’

‘ sometimes it feels like someone else is wearing my body . ’

‘ i spent my life arguing how i mattered until it didn’t matter . ’

‘ who knew my haven would be my coffin ? ’

‘ dead is the safest i’ve ever been . ’

‘ i’ve never been so alive . ’

‘ you know what i was gonna tell you before , but didn’t have the nerve ? you got your name written all over me . i got my name written on you , too . ’

‘ you already are something . you always were . and you still have time to be . ’

‘ you know me by heart . it infuriates me that you know me by heart . ’

‘ why am i waiting for you ? hungering and thirsting for you in every cranny of my soul and even in my ribs ? ’

‘ you came with a handful of pain and a smile which broke the ground under my feet as the earthquake does when two people meet . ’

‘ the only good thing is that i’m getting used to suffering . ’

‘ the return to time was not my choice . ’

‘ we are built to live inside each other . this means we are built to ruin . ’

‘ time does not bring relief ; you all have lied . ’

‘ time does not know how to keep our hopes safe . ’

‘ you needed me so much that you had to end me . ’

‘ there are days where i am morbidly in love with you , and this is one of those days . ’

‘ i know no end to desiring you . ’

‘ i fear that i am both too much yet not enough . ’

‘ yes , yes , yes , i do like you . i am afraid to say the stronger word . ’

‘ a heart’s a heavy burden . ’

‘ life , as i see it , is all about farewells rather than reunions . ’

‘ heaven is real and you only had two minutes to prove it to me . ’

‘ it was already love . ’

‘ everyone desires love but also finds it impossible to believe that they deserve it . ’

‘ i’ll love you until i forget how to . ’

‘ i’ll love you until i forget how to and then i’ll fall like my knees aren’t already bruised from doing it and i’ll remember why you’re worth the ache . ’

‘ of course i’ll hurt you . of course you’ll hurt me . of course we’ll hurt each other . but this is the very condition of existence . ’

‘ nothing makes me sadder and nothing makes me happier than you . ’

‘ i love you and i do not want to love you , it is too much and too difficult . ’

‘ grief is just love with no place to go . ’

‘ i felt my life with both my hands to see if it was there . ’

‘ you do this , you do . you take the things you love and you tear them apart . ’

‘ i hope it’s love . i’m trying really hard to make it love . ’

‘ if you touch me again i might burn up in the cold air . ’

‘ i asked you not to leave several times . ’

‘ i’ve only adored you lifetimes ago and here we are . it’s nice to see you again . ’

‘ all time ever does is pass and all i ever do is remember . ’

‘ i feel as though we were never strangers , you and i , not even for a moment . ’

‘ i’d choose you ; in a hundred different lifetimes , in a hundred worlds , in any version of reality , i’d find you and i’d choose you . ’

‘ nothing about this is soft but we pretend . ’

‘ maybe you and i are just a dream . ’

‘ i know you loved me too , you knew me , and it gladdens my heart . ’

‘ i promise i shall never give up and that i’ll die yelling and laughing . ’

‘ i don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision . ’

‘ the world was made so that we could find each other in it . ’

‘ you don’t meet the people you love , you recognize them . ’

‘ i think you and i have known each other a few lifetimes . ’

‘ this body knows fear like a front porch knows welcome -- it is always coming home . ’

‘ i miss you more than i remember you . ’

‘ if i could have done it all again , i would have loved you better . but i could not have loved you more . ’

‘ we could have been happy . i know that , and it is perhaps the hardest thing to know . ’

‘ you want a better story . who wouldn’t ? ’

#ask meme #sentence starters #inbox meme #indie rp #rp ask meme #rp sentence meme #askbox meme #sentence starter meme #rp sentence starters #inbox memes #indie starters #rp inbox meme #starters #starter #meme #rp meme #ask #rp ask

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snowflakeanimelover · 3 years

Note

Hello Kate if is ok can I request a Zeldris X male Reader with prompt 10 also the Reader is Half Demon with Toshiro Hitsugaya powers.

Thank you for the request! This is the very first time I have ever written a Male Reader Drabble, so I apologize if it isn’t that good. If there’s anything I should change or any advice for me about writing male readers, please let me know! Either by pm or just in the comments below😊 I hope you like this!

Zeldris is a man who doesn’t like to show his feelings. Well, he shows them anyways, even if he didn’t want to. He’s the type to get flustered when he shows his feelings, and once flustered, gets angry about it. It’s funny, really. To watch him struggle with his emotions.

How do I know this?

I’m his wing man, I suppose you can call it. After defeating the Demon King, and Zeldris becoming the Demon King himself, he asked me to be by his side.

I was beyond overjoyed with this. Meaning I could be by his side and protect him gave me relief.

When I was reminded Zeldris was going to be Demon King, my first thought was that I wouldn’t be able to protect him from all enemies and threats. I know, I know. Zeldris can easily take care of himself, and I can’t do a lot since I’m half demon. But when someone like me who cares about him, it’s hard to not want to protect him.

Today happened to be one of those days a random enemy decided to wake up with violence, and attack the kingdom.

This enemy was difficult. Must be, since it’s been a few hours since the battle started. The enemy was able to catch me off guard, as he sends a magic source of his towards me. My body flies across the land, landing on the ground roughly.

“Are you alright?” I look up to find Zeldris grabbing my arm, helping pull me up to my feet.

I grunt in pain, clutching my injured arm. With all of the pain, I manage to nod at him. “Yes. I’ll be alright. Are you?” I couldn’t help but to ask.

Zeldris’ eyebrows raise up. “Your asking me if I’m alright? Even though your way more injured than me? (Y/N), your half demon. Maybe it’s best if you stay to the side.”

“What? I’m your wing man! And you being the king, it’s my duty to protect you!”

Zeldris scoffs. Looking annoyed as ever. This isn’t the first time he has looked like that towards me. “You aren’t as strong as me. How many times do I have to tel you that?”

“Then why did you announce me as your wing man?” I was angry for the first time in a long time. If he didn’t choose me as his wing man to protect him, then what? Was he watching over me because I’m half demon? Making sure all of the other demons don’t patronize me?

“Because-“

I couldn’t even listen to what he was saying. A large bright ball was heading our way, and I had to do something. It happened so fast, I wasn’t even sure if it was real. My legs moved on their own, as I push Zeldris as far away as possible. I try to attempt my power. Swinging my sword to freeze the magic ball. But it didn’t seem to work.

First, it was warmth, then pain took over. I don’t even remember what happened. Why is my body farther away from Zeldris? Why do I feel so much pain?

I watch as Zeldris gets up from his spot, anger taking over his emotions. He charged at the enemy with full force. That’s when everything went black, my consciousness leaving me.

————

It was peaceful. That is, until light started to stream through my eyelids, and pain was shooting through my body. I try to open my eyes multiple times. My eyelids finally decided to open, but get blinded right off the bat. It clears, only to find Zeldris staring right at me.

“Zeldris…?” I mumble.

I must have broken Zeldris’ thoughts as he jumps up to my voice. He was on full alert now. “(Y/N)!” He yells my name, standing up from his seat. I look around me. I must be in the castle. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m great, thank you. How are you?” I chuckle.

Zeldris plops himself down onto the chair. I could tell he was very angry. “Right. Sorry. How are you feeling?” I was surprised he wasn’t flustered, asking me that question. Usually he hates to talk about emotional things. Or things that make it sound like he cares.

“I’m in pain, but I’ll be fine. Is the fight over?” I ask him.

He nods. “Yes. Not long after he attacked you, I was able to take him down.”

“I see.” I sigh with relief. A comfortable silence takes the air, until a thought comes to mind. “Zeldris, you never answered my question earlier.” I turn my head slightly to him.

“Question?”

“Yes. Why did you choose me as your wing man?”

Zeldris’ features seem to have calmed, as he seems to be in thought. After a bit of time, he looks me straight in the eyes.

“Because…. You’re so important to me, (Y/N). I couldn’t bare to lose you.” He said it with such seriousness, my face bursted into flames.

Not literally, but it really felt like it. And his small smile didn’t make that feeling any better. “O-oh…” Is all I could say. I was embarrassed. What am I supposed to say to that?

I feel his hand gently grasp mine. “Next time, don’t push me away to take an attack that was meant for me. I promise, I can take it. Unlike you….” He says. Guilt instantly spills in his eyes.

“I wanted to do it. To protect you.” I smile at him. It was his turn now to blush. I chuckle lightly at his expression. “It’s not very often I see you like this.”

“Well make sure it’s stuck in your brain! ‘Cause I’m never gonna show it again!” He yells, frustrated and embarrassed.

“Yeah, sure.” I chuckle even more as he pouts.

#anime #writing #story #reader #drabble #funny #seven deadly sins #zeldris x reader #zeldris #male #male reader #zeldris x male reader #demon king #half demon #Ice powers #request

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

Ok so Ik this has already been done with ej, but I’m a toby simp, and I wanted to ask. Reader finding out toby is cheating on them? Maximum of 1k words, a scenario idk, smth. Ty!

-👾

It's Dangerous, To Love the Sun

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: angst in general, physical and emotional cheating, violence, language]

[AN: I listened to Brooksie - Not Into You slowed + reverbed while writing this, I hope you enjoyed! Also went a lil over,,, the word count because I kinda liked this,,,,,,,,,,,]

You love Toby. Ever since he came into your life, you’ve been happier with him at your side. He makes you smile, he makes your heart sing. You’ve never felt so complete.

The way he looks at you is akin to gazing at a masterpiece. His eyes are so full of love when he gazes at you from across the room, wondering when you’ll finally break away from your conversation with Jeff to be at his side again.

His touch is gentle, never harsh. Toby’s fingers trace up and down your forearms and back, ghosts, whisper-like kisses of physical affection in an attempt to show you what he verbally cannot express. He’s always so warm, so loving, so whole.

He completes you, is what you’re trying to get at.

The two of you like to sit on rooftops late at night because neither Masky nor Hoodie can stand the two of you giggling at odd hours of the day in their presence. Kate’s not around long enough to actually care. When it’s just the two of you sitting up here, quiet, against each other and breathing in the sweet night air, you feel more complete than you’ve ever felt before.

You hum out, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, a dreamy expression on your face as Toby momentarily stops playing with your hair.

“What’s o-o-on your mind, b-baby?” He asks, a brow raised. Toby shifts on the shingles, his arms wrapping around you like an octopus, bringing you closer and closer into his warmth.

You find yourself blanketed in him and relax. “You’re so good to me, y’know that?” You say.

Toby scoffs and rolls his eyes. “O-Other way around,” he corrects.

You tilt your head and shake it slightly, telling him he’s wrong. “You’ve always been so good to me,” you continue, brushing off his attempts to play down your saccharine words.

He knows you’re not fibbing, but at the same time, he refuses to admit to your claims. “I d-d-did what w-was expected o-of me, you know t-that,” he states plainly.

You take in another deep breath before resting your head on his shoulder, melting into him. You pick up his scent: oak and burning winter, before retorting against him again in a voice a hair above a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Toby laughs, his lips pressing to the side of your head. “If y-y-you say so,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your head and eventually your face. He revels in the sound of your laughter as he does so, leaving no inch of you unkissed.

“I know so.”

The two of you fall back into a pleasant silence.

You’ve always viewed Toby like he has power over the sun, because, as far as being a proxy goes? He does. When you were first plucked from your life and called for something ‘greater’, it was Toby who had taken pity on you, trained you, taught you all you needed to know and the ins and outs of this life. He was the one who shielded you from Masky, Hoodie and even Kate at times.

It was by his hand that you survived, and it is still by his hand that you thrive.

It was such a blinding adoration for a man you believed held dominion over the sun that kept you veiled from the truth of what he had been doing behind closed doors, yet could be seen through the windows.

Naturally, you didn’t want to believe it. Who would? The person you love’s heart has fled the place it used to live with you and taken up residence with someone else. That’s not an easy thing to admit, not when you realize that love truly is not all it takes.

Toby doesn’t want to admit it either. It started out as some strange infatuation, a fleeting crush - someone he would forget.

But her eyes? Her darling eyes? One of them the most beautiful shade of peridot he’d ever seen and the other a literal clock? They say the eyes (in her case, eye) are the window to the soul, and she had absolutely snared his. She was beautiful in a way Toby couldn’t describe, beautiful in a way that had him seeing a sky full of stars in the middle of the day, and beautiful in the sense she was timeless.

Toby knows he should be ashamed, that she’s his little secret, that what he has with Natalie can’t be compared with you, but he knows he can’t let you find out lest you go too far you can’t come back.

That blinding sun made you shrug off the bruises that were too keenly placed to be a victim’s sorry attempt at freeing themself. You shrugged off the scent of roses and wine. You shrugged off how his eyes saw past you, no longer at you. You shrugged it all off, choosing to stay blinded than face the truth.

And you would’ve happily lived in that ignorance if Toby didn’t grow cocky and arrogant and so fucking careless.

You’ve never really felt your world crash and burn until today. You've never been burned by the sun until this moment.

You’re looking into the eyes of a man you think owns the sun and see nothing but fear, regret, and pleading. Pleading for what? That you won’t leave him? That you’ll stay with him? You feel tears well in your eyes as you see him laying in your bed with her. The woman who had been naught but a shadow until now.

“R-Reader,” Toby begins, quickly wrestling up in the sheets, watching as your soul leaves your body in the doorway. “B-Baby, it’s n-no-”

You’re at a loss for words, and frankly, you don’t think he even deserves the right to your thoughts at this moment. Instead, you hold your hand up, silencing him, and turn to leave the temp house. You were out doing work for your fucking boss and get rewarded like this? The man you loved in bed with another woman, looking at her like she owned the moon. You take in a sharp breath and then begin to beeline to the front door when Toby finally gets out of the bed, ignoring the cries of confusion pouring from Natalie’s mouth.

Your heart races when you realize Toby is gaining on you. Your vision blurs through your tears.

He’s calling out for you, his stutter even stronger than before, bones popping louder and louder as he gets hit with the weight of what he’s done to you. “Stop! S-Stop fucking m-m-moving!” He hisses, his calloused hand reaching out for your wrist, successfully grabbing you.

You snarl like a caged, wounded animal, flesh burning at the contact. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you sneer as you attempt to rip your wrist from his iron grasp. In your other hand, you already have the car keys ready. You just want to be anywhere but here.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” Toby says, attempting to pull you into a hug.

You struggle against him harder, hissing to be let go. The keys in your free hand are getting threaded in your fingertips. Your tears feel warm and boil your cheeks as they roll down like waterfalls. The harder he grips you, the more you feel you’ve been burned to a point of no return. “God fucking damn it, let me go!” You shout, not even noticing how Natalie has come out of the room to get Toby off of you. She’s quickly gaining in the hallway, confused on if she should step in or not.

Toby tries harder and harder to pull you into his embrace, and that’s when you strike.

You take your car key filled fingers and punch as hard as you can, the teeth of the keys dragging across Toby’s cheek, successfully shocking him into letting you go. You don’t even consider how badly you’ve hurt him and take the opportunity of his shock to flee the temp house, quickly hopping into the car.

“Reader!” Toby shouts, hand on his right cheek, not even caring about the claw marks you’ve left. “B-Baby, let’s t-talk about t-this-”

You start honking the horn to drown his voice out. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a scowl on your face, glare holding nothing but bullets towards Toby and Natalie as she attempts to wrangle him back into the house.

You watch as her arms wrap around his waist - she’s surprisingly gentle for dealing with such a belligerent man - before peeling out of the driveway, hand still honking the horn and practically waking up the neighborhood while you’re at it.

Your mind overloads as you drive, thoughts of the sun getting eclipsed by the other celestial body that overtakes it in full, swallowing it whole. You mutter angrily to yourself, turning on the radio for just noise as you finally get onto the expressway. And you drive. You drive until your head feels clear again, and when it does, you’re finally able to focus on something other than what’s in front of you on the endless stretch of road.

Autumn is making its way in, that much is apparent. Every now and then, specks of orange and red zip past your high beams. It’s cooler, and you swear you’ve passed a few flowering pumpkin patches.

You look to your left, gazing out the window for a moment or so.

The moon is decidedly absent this night.

You sigh as the fires extinguish in your heart, loneliness, sadness and any other emotion draining alongside it leaving a pit in your chest.

The emptiness quickly takes its place, haunting you like the ghost it is.

#ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #x reader #reader insert #ticci toby x y/n #clockwork #natalie ouellette #angst

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darkfinch · 2 years

Note

What if after they take down Moreau, Eliot’s not sure he wants to have been stolen back?

Or, he is. But he’s not sure how to do this now, how to regain the team’s trust, or stand the wariness in their eyes when they look at him.

So once they’re back from San Lorenzo he slips from the bar as they’re celebrating to consider his next move, how to leave without hurting them more than he has already. It’s Parker who comes and finds him—Parker, who showed him more mercy than he could ever deserve by Not Asking, who sat next to him on the plane and stole his pretzels and acted like everything was normal.

‘When we were really angry with you,’ she says without preamble, ‘I couldn’t understand how you’d done all that stuff for us—all the saving us and looking out for us and everything—if you didn’t care. And Nate and Sophie and Hardison said you were faking to make us trust you. But I think they were wrong. I think you meant it.’ She looks at him, hard and pleading. ‘Did you?’

This is his chance, he knows, to say, Yes, I meant it. The first person I almost killed in years without Moreau ordering me to was a fake psychic who made you cry, and I’ve never been as scared as I was when you were trapped in that Steranko. I’ve meant it when I’ve caught you as you jumped from some crazy height and I meant it when I told Sophie how to be in with a chance of surviving a bomb blast and I’ve meant the high fives and the meals cooked and the punches taken and if you let me I’ll prove over and over that I mean it, until my dying day.

But it’s easier to go for the clean break. Eliot takes the coward’s way out, looks her in the eye, and says in the coolest tone he can muster, ‘No. I’m sorry. I was just doing my job.’

Parker regards him for a moment and then…smiles?

‘Okay,’ she says, nodding with relief. ‘Good job you were better at lying to Moreau than to me. We must have stolen you without even realising.’ Her smile widens. ‘Come inside. We’re all waiting for you.’

hi why are we all waking up and choosing violence today huh. why are we doing that. im weeping

this is so good!!!!! he wants to leave but he doesn't want to be gone!! he's play-acted being Their Eliot, he's worn him like a suit, but it's always been with the knowledge that moreau's still holding his leash. and he's never been able to really imagine what it would be like? to have that? being on the team and being Their Eliot for real, without the grift or moreau or the rest of it. he's starting from square one!! and it's terrifying!!!

and he knows he's hurt them, and they don't trust him, and maybe they're keeping him around out of pity or a sense of obligation (or, says the part of his brain that moreau still lives in, they're lulling him into a sense of security before doing—something. getting revenge. handling him. something).

and then parker just. does this. im on the ground im weeping and so is eliot in spirit. this team is so good and this au is going 2 kill me thank u

#PARKER...................................#undercover eliot au #finchtalks

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loousir · 3 years

Text

[Orc] Saviour

Orc Male x Male Reader

Borhul

Warnings: Slight Orc to Human racisim, no violence other than what you see before the cut (3rd paragraph), injured reader, reader is written to be muscular

Masterlist

----------------------------------------------------------------

You were currently leaning against a tree trying to catch your breath as you were holding your wounded side tightly. Three heavy and thundering sets of footsteps got closer and closer until they stopped. You did your best to hold your breath steady and quiet but it failed you.

"Ah, there ya are, ya littl' pest." A large grey-ish green hand stole you away from your hiding spot. "Why cant you just leave me the fuck alone?" You croaked out as he gripped your shirt tighter. "Cause littl' runts like you, dont belong in an Orc settl'm'nt. All we're doin' is disposin' of the rat in the kitch'n." He snarled out, his nose crinkling up as he spoke. His buddies cut your legs more then they already had been to make sure you didnt run off but in such a way so that you didnt bleed out too quickly.

Your groaning voice of pain was ignored as the main Orc tossed you onto the wet mossy dirt right up against an old tree stump. You looked up to the Orc with a harsh glare before speaking for the final time that night. "You have absolutely no dignity and no right to call yourself an Orc." Your vision went blurry and your eyes closed, breathing heavily as everything faded out.

You sat up with a start as the sun had heat up your wounded cheek, causing it to hurt. Your breath was unsteady, uneven, and incredibly heavy. A strong pounding sensation coarsed through your head as you hunched over and grabbed your chest, trying to calm your breathing. "Shit..."

After a fre minutes, you finally calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. The room was only lit by the light that shone through the large window next to the large plush bed you were currently sitting on. There was minimal decoration in the room but it was garnishing a large war hammer resting on the mantle of the fireplace. You carefully turned your legs out from under the covers to have them hang off the side of the bed.

Only your boxers/briefs were on and you took note how most of your body was bandaged, including the whole of your left cheek. You carefully shuffled off the bed, still using it heavily for support as your feet touched the bear skin rug. You realized it was an Onikuma.

I know who's house this is...

The house belonged to your closest friend, Borhul. He's one of the clan chiefs off-spring and next in line to be chief. His father, Orogakh, had taken a particular shine to you after he had rescued you from a group of "bandits" that had you bound and ready to sell off to some vampire as a blood slave.

Orogakh had been watching them before he noticed your child frame. He said his original intent was to just see if they were going to harm the settlement but just had an urge to rescue you. Once he did, he would return you to a human village but when you said you had no family he decided to take you in.

His teachings formed you into the tall, muscular man that you are today. You decided to stop reminiscing for a moment to continue your shaky trek out to the livingroom.

"He's not here..."

You looked around his lightly decorated cabin before hobbling over to the large couch and sitting down. Your eyes closed momentarily before opening again when the heavy front door creaked open. His lime green eyes instantly locked with yours and he rushed over to you. "You're awake." He seemed shaken, as if he didnt think you'd wake up.

"Uh, yeah." You looked to his eyes again to see them watering as he pulled you gently into a hug. "Gods I was so worried." You hugged back and gently reassured him by rubbing your rather soft hand against his exposed spine. Most Orc's in the settlement walked around wearing only bottoms so him being shirtless was a common sight.

He pulled away and looked to your eyes. "Do you think... I could get the rundown of what happened? I passed out and I really only know up until that point." Borhul pulled away and looked at you, your eyes looking down to his silver rings that fit perfectly over his long, slim tusks.

"After I change your dressings and get you a bath I will." You nodded and mumbled out an 'ok' before he suddenly picked you up bridal style. He was about a foot and a half taller than you, standing at 7'7" but he was still so extremely gentle with you, as if he were to accidentally squeeze too hard he would break a bone.

"I know I'm wounded but I'm not a porcelain doll." You said quietly as he sat you down on his bathrooms toilet. He grunts and kneels down in front of you. "Please no snarky remarks right now." He started to gently unwrap your left calf, slowly traveling up to your thigh. You watched carefully as he revealed still healing, yet well cared for wounds.

"Have you been the one looking after me?" You asked looking to his face. He had started on unwrapping your right leg but paused to look up to you and nod. Your eyes softened as you looked to his again. Without thinking, your hand reached out to his face, gently cupping his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned slightly into your touch. "Sorry for making you worry so much Bora."

He shook his head before continuing to unwrap your wounds. "No, it's not your fault. I just wished I had realized something was up sooner." You smiled as he moved up to your arms, beginning to unwrap those as well. "Its good to know at least one other person cares about me." He looked to your eyes for the third time and gently held your hand in his.

"My family cares about you (Y/n). And so does the settlement. They know how important you are to me and they respect that. I mean we grew up together for gods sake." You gently squeezed his hand but didnt say anything. "I dont think I could lose you that easily." He spoke softly before continuing to unwrap you.

Neither of you spoke as he finished unwrapping you and turning on the water, waiting for it to be warm. Not hot but warm. He looked back over to you and reached up to your face, carefully peeling away the bandage. His calloused thumb softly traced around the cut that would more than likely form into a scar. Your eyes closed and you leaned softly into his hand before he pulled it away.

"Father will be happy to know that you're ok." He spoke as he helped you up. Without thinking, you started to gently shimmy out of your underwear, trying your best to not scrape any wounds with the fabric. Borhul held a blush on his cheeks as he helped you into the tub.

"Here," He hands you a bottle of medicinal soap that he's been using to clean your wounds. "Use this then once done dont stay in too long after. It's not good if they get too much water." You nodded and looked up to him to see he was looking away. "Borhul." He glances over to you and keeps his eyes locked with yours.

"Thank you."

He nods and turned his head away again. "I'm going to let father know that you're awake." You mumbled another small 'ok' as he left you to your own. A moment or two had passed when the bathroom door creaked open and Borhuls hand set something down on the counter before closing again.

Some minutes had passed as you cleaned yourself and the pretty well healed wounds. While you bathed, many questions ran through your head.

How long has it been?

What happened after you passed out?

How were you found, saved even?

You were lost in thought but the sound of the door opening make you look up. "You should hop out and dry off. Father would like to see you." He said quickly before closing the door again. You simply did as told and dried off, slipping on the pair of boxers he had brought you.

"Bora?" You called for him as you carefully hobbled out of the bathroom. Two heads turned to look at your wounded form and the called for orc made his way over to you. "Hold on, lemme..." He gently picks you up again and sets you on his kitchen counter before going to get what you assumed was bandages.

You looked over to see Orogakh staring at you. "Hey pops." He stood up and walked over to you, examining how your wounds have healed. He didnt say anything and simply pulled you into a hug. You hugged him back and looked over his shoulder to see Borhul holding bandages and some clothes that looked like his from when he was younger.

Orogakh stepped away and let his son help you. Neither of you spoke buy just looking at his face you knew exactly what he was thinking, making you smile sweetly at him. Borhul carefully bandaged some wounds that still needed to heal a bit more and slipped a pair of loose pants and a button up shirt. The shirt was a ivory white and the pants were brown. "I mostly covered the deepest wounds but the others are fine to breathe. Just try not to get them dirty." You smiled up to him and nodded. "I dont plan on making them any worse."

You said, looking up to him, still holding that smile on your face. He gently smiled as well before leaning in and hugging you again. "I'm glad you're ok..." He pulled away and turned to his father. "Should we..?" Orogakh nodded and Borhul gently took you off the counter. "Will you be ok with me giving you a ride?" He bent his knees slightly and motioned for you to hop on his back.

"I suppose. You probably wouldn't let me walk anyway." You said with a small laugh before carefully climbing onto his bare back. He adjusted so the both of you were comfortable before following his father out of the house. The instant that the three of you had left, all eyes had looked to not only you, but to Borhul carrying you.

The looks were mixed amongst the Orc camp as the camps' leader was walking along side his son carrying another, who wasn't even an Orc. Even though few looked on with an odd feeling, they were glad that you were ok. Borhul carried you all the way to town square where your three assailants were locked in pillorys. There was a small group of youngn's throwing stones at them and laughing.

"We waited till you woke up so that you could choose their punishment." Borhul gently set you on the pavement and Orogakh shooed the kids away. The three of you stood in front of the three of them, looking down on their pitiful states. The breeze blew gently, ruffling your hair. "I don't want anything bad to happen to them." Borhul scoffed and looked down to you. "Are you serious? They almost killed you (Y/n)."

You sighed and looked up to them. "All I wish is they're branded with both the murders and banishment marks and removed far away from here." He turned you to look at him. "(Y/n) they almost killed you. That's all you want to do?" You nodded. "If I wish death upon them like they did me, then I'm no better than they are. Just because I have all the power doesn't mean I will abuse it." You mumbled the last part as Borhul takes a moment to think before removing his hands from your shoulders and looking to his father.

He nodded and said, "I'll take care of them. Take (Y/n) back and relax." Borhul nodded and gently grabbed your hand. You looked up to him surprised. "What?" You shook your head. "You're just... Holding my hand." He grunts. "So what about it?" You shook your head again and the two of you slowly walked along the cobbled road back to his home.

Once the two of you arrived he pulled you close and sat the both of you on the couch. You ended up sitting super close, like thighs touching close. "Could you tell me what happened?" You asked, looking up to his eyes again. He sighs, some relief evident. "Not much had happened. I'm pretty sure we got there just as you passed out." You nod and rest your head on his shoulder, making his face light up with a blush. "You were out for three days though. The doctor said you should have woken the day after the attack so I was afraid."

There was a moment of comfortable silence before he spoke again. "So um... I... I know this is probably a bad time but... I..." Borhul hesitates heavily on what he's about to say. You look up to his eyes again and he was intensely staring at your face. "It's ok. Take your-mmhp!" He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. You responded after your short shock had passed. A moment passed before the both of you pulled away for air.

"I think I love you." He mumbled out before going in for another kiss which you reciprocated. By the time the two of you pulled away, you found yourself straddling Borhuls thighs and his hands rested on your hips. "Hi." You said with a smile. "Hey." He said with a exceptionally pleased smile. "I just might feel the same way Bora." He smiles and kisses you again. Your hand rested on his chest as you leaned into him.

"Bora?" You said after you both pulled away. He looks up to you with a cute smile on his face. With a smile of your own, you run your fingers through his hair, combing it slightly in the process. He closes his eyes and let's out a small content hum. "Your hair is so wavy. But I guess that's what happens when it's braided all the time." You said as you played with it more. He rests his face on the spot between your neck and your shoulder and slightly pulls you closer.

"I wish we could stay like this forever."

----- 2465 (not proof read) Considering a part 2

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #m4m #mxm

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

--------------

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