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glowingbadger · 3 years ago

Note

You may have a little Lorenz Prompt as promised. As a treat. Here goes~

Lorenz taking thorough notes to surprise his s/o (is it the blog owner? the reader? some random character? It doesn't matter~!) with the most lovely, romantic date imaginable based around everything they like. He wouldn't put in this much effort to TRULY impress someone, but you're worth every step and more.

Enjoy where this takes your thoughts~!

(and pls don't eat it, Tumblr)

Y'know what, I've had a shitty day and I just finished writing some darker content- so I am going to ~indulge~. Normally I try to make my Reader character as broadly relatable as possible, but today we're going with MY preferences and interests because I WANT A NICE DATE WITH LORENZ GODDAMNIT

Lorenz (FE3H) x GN Reader - perfect date

Fluff - SFW

Today simply has to be flawless- the Gloucester heir will not accept any less. Not when it comes to you. Of course, Lorenz holds himself to high standards in all things, but the thought of providing anything less than perfection for you is one that pains him to even consider. Especially now that he'd finally gotten the courage- or, rather, found the right and proper time to ask you to spend the day with him.

You approach him at the Monastery gates not long after noon that day, and find your pace slowing as you eye him before he's noticed you. Without his usual elegant set of armor, you can appreciate the way constant marching and training has toned his slender frame- and appreciate it, you most certainly do. Though he soon turns to face you, and your eyes dart back up from a rather ignoble place to meet his instead.

"You're as radiant as ever, I see," he says with a warm smile. He offers you an arm and you take it, replying with a grin,

"You've already got me for the day, Lorenz, there's no need for flattery."

"'Flattery' implies a measure of falsehood," he says with confidence, leading you towards town, "and I could never bring myself to lie to one so lovely."

As your time together proceeds, you can't help but feel that, some way, somehow, Lorenz has some kind of psychic insight into your preferences. Everywhere you turn, whatever your heart could desire is immediately available and set before you with hardly any negotiation at play. At the first flower stall you find, Lorenz takes a moment to exchange words with the owner while you admire the sprawling array of colorful blooms; and by the time he's returned, he's holding a woven crown of delicate little white flowers. With an admiring smile, he carefully places it on your head, a hand trailing down a lock of your hair as he pulls away to observe you.

With a shy grin, you perform an exaggerated curtsy, prompting Lorenz to laugh fondly and take you by the hand. He twirls you slowly under his arm, watching you all the while, then says,

"They suit you every bit as wonderfully as I'd thought."

"They're my favorites," you reply.

"I know- erm, that is- I know of a superb bakery down the block this way," Lorenz seems a bit red in the face, but you chalk that up to nerves.

He's not wrong though- this bakery is something else. The selection and quality of ingredients is on an entirely new level compared to the Monastery's dining hall, and you find yourself overwhelmed even reading down the list of items posted to the wall. By your third pass over the full range of options, the words are starting to dance in your eyes- but a warm touch at your arm shakes your focus. Lorenz leans close to be heard over the rapidly growing crowd at the bakery's counter,

"Might I make a recommendation?" you nod, and he goes on, "I happen to have it on good authority that there's an item not included on this menu that you may like. It incorporates three different treatments of Brigid cocoa, if that is of any interest to you."

Your eyes light up and you can practically feel the rich sweetness across your tongue already.

"That sounds incredible," you reply, enraptured by the very thought. When you start to ask how he'd heard of such a thing, Lorenz has already turned to speak to the worker taking orders, and your words drown among the crowd of customers. The speed at which he acquires this mythical pastry only fills your mind with more questions. How did he manage to purchase an off-menu item so quickly? Wouldn't the cost of something requiring those many luxurious imported ingredients be astronomical?

But then, Lorenz returns to your side and guides you out of the crowded shop, and the sight of the delectable chocolatey treat in his hands dashes all other thoughts from your mind. He hands it to you wrapped in a handkerchief, and you can't help but immediately plunge in for a bite.

"Mmmm-!" you wear an expression of pure bliss as your mouth fills with sweet, savory chocolate, "Oh- Lorenz, it's so good!"

When you glance up at him, he's watching you with a strangely heavy expression. Once more, his fair complexion is painted a light red. You tilt your head curiously, and he seems to resurface from whatever thoughts had taken him for the moment.

"Here- you should try some," you break off a piece and hold it up to him.

"Are- are you certain? I had intended for you to enjoy it to your heart's content," he stammers out, evidently still a bit flushed.

"I want you to get to have some too. Please?" You hate to resort to puppy eyes with him, but it's hard to argue with the results. He leans forward and accepts the piece of pastry from your hand. You don't shy away from him in the slightest, and so a brief brush of his lower lip along the tip of your finger simply can't be avoided. Lorenz does his best to move past this without acknowledgement, and you two enjoy your treat together as you take in the bustle of the town around you.

The day continues in kind, with Lorenz apparently having painstakingly arranged every element of this date from start to finish. At a local seller of antiques and luxury goods, he secures permission to view and explore rare and dazzling paintings from around the world. Here, he's rather uncharacteristically reserved. Wandering the storage area like your own personal art museum, he watches you with evident warmth as you exclaim at the rich and varied pigments, the innovative expressions of human form, and so on.

After this, he brings you to a tavern at the far end of town, where he's reserved the second floor exclusively for you two to enjoy a quiet, intimate meal together. By this point, you've finally gotten around to considering just how much gold must have gone into this singular date.

"Lorenz," you say cautiously, "are you sure it's okay to go through all of this and spend so much just for-"

He raises a hand to cut you off, then replies,

"I assure you that it is," he takes your hand in his, holding it warmly from across your private table, "wealth has no value that we ourselves do not assign to it, and I have chosen to spend it on your pleasure. I can think of no greater use for a bit of coin."

The rest of the early evening is filled with pleasant chat and the occasional subtle sweet-talk. As you discuss everything you've seen and experienced that day, Lorenz engages you with surprisingly astute comments and observations. He's always at his best when he feels permitted to simply talk with you, as one person to another, free of the pressures and expectations of his birthright that he shoulders without a thought.

The sun is steadily lowering behind the hills and walls of the surrounding town by the time you make your way back together. As you walk hand in hand watching the Monastery gates rise ahead of you, Lorenz clears his throat abruptly and says,

"If I may steal you away for just a little while longer, there was... actually someone I thought you'd like to meet."

"Oh? What an honor," you say with a smile, "Do I get any hints?"

Lorenz gives a good-natured chuckle and says,

"Only that I think you'll get along splendidly."

And of all places throughout Garreg Mach's grounds, you begin to recognize that he is leading you towards the stables. You've met Lorenz's horse before- a lovely mare with a calm and agreeable temperment. If not her, then...

"Eloise?" Lorenz calls out in a gentle voice, "Eloise, come say hello- Ellie? Come now, don't tell me you've chosen tonight to become bashful..." at his call, a svelte black cat with delicate little white paws comes trotting out to meet you. Your heart positively aches and melts at the sight of her eagerly approaching Lorenz with clear comfort and familiarity.

"Lorenz, you... have a cat?" You say with obvious disbelief.

"She's one of the Monastery's strays, to be clear," he says, "She helps with the mice in the stables. Evidently, she had become quite fond of my preferred horse- and so eventually became fond of me as well."

Fond seems an understatement- she very clearly adores him. With a chorus of happy little mews, she circles his legs and rubs against him until he crouches down to offer her his hand. As he does, a shred of parchment flutters from his pocket onto the ground. Eloise targets it like a seasoned warrior and pounces at it with gusto. With a laugh, you kneel down to retrieve whatever this paper she's captured might be.

"Now Eloise, none of that- you must behave genteel-like with guests."

As he firmly lectures the cat, you glance at the paper in your hand. Nearly every inch of it is covered in an elegant, curling script that you imagine must belong to Lorenz. It looks like a... list of some kind. As your eyes scan down the page, you begin to recognize a pattern. Your favorite flowers, favorite desserts, favorite types of books and places around town- plus, to the side, the word "cats?" underlined several times. For a moment, you simply cover your mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. Then, you come to kneel beside Lorenz as he's failing to convince his feline friend to stop swatting at his hair.

"So- you've been taking very thorough notes lately." you say, nudging his arm playfully. He turns to face you with an immediate look of panic. Lavender eyes widen and glance down to the parchment in your hand, then back to you. He visibly deflates and says,

"Goddess- you must find me such a fool-"

You press your lips firmly to his before he can say another word. With a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your kiss. His lips are wonderfully soft, and the subtle scent of his cologne surrounds your senses as you tilt your head to seal your lips to his more firmly. You're not certain how long you remain like this, but only the dull ache of kneeling on the dirt and the incessant sound of Eloise bapping her paw against the paper in your hand bring you back to your surroundings. When you part from him, you brush aside the silky curtain of his hair to run your hand along his face, and say,

"I had a wonderful time today, Lorenz- and it means the world to me that you put so much thought into this. But next time, you don't have to study so hard, okay?"

For a moment, he seems speechless. Then, he gives a shy chuckle.

"You have bested me yet again, it would seem. How can I ever hope to become a man worthy of you when you are ever more lovely with each passing day?"

Eloise gives an insistent chirp and rubs once more against his leg, evidently tired of distractions from the attention she feels she's owed. Your smile widens, and you scratch her ear fondly.

"I think there's at least two of us who like you just as you are, Lorenz."

#no one's gonna read this why is it so long #fe3h #feh #lorenz hellman gloucester #lorenz x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #fluff #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fluff

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

The Spider's Bride Part 5

Pairing: spider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, forced marriage, smut, breeding.

Words: 1835.

Summary: Whoever your stepmother sold you to, he wasn’t as honorable as she claimed.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

_____________

That night was the new beginning. Despite Bucky refusing to do anything except kissing you, you spent several hours talking and getting to know each other like lovers would, finally. You ceased to be afraid of him, the only one who had truly cared about you and ready to smother you with love and constant attention. In one week you tried watching Bucky regaining his true form, and, though it wasn't easy, you didn't feel repulsed or frightened to death. He was just different. Slowly, you came to terms with it.

The more open-minded you became, the easier it was to accept the reality you lived in now. You were lucky to have Bucky's sisters always encouraging you to get to know the world around you better: you could talk to them about things you were too embarrassed to ask your betrothed, and they had never even once refused you. At one point you started going out to the town, Bucky always close to you to protect you from anything you deemed scary. Though you were an outsider, someone who didn't even belong to the same kind as them, you were treated with respect and provided with support you needed so much. You even made a few friends, two female arachnids and a couple of elderly dark elves.

Then the day of the wedding had come. By this time you got accustomed to Bucky's spider form so much that being around many of his relatives - dear Lord, since he lived alone you could never guess he had such a big family - wasn't frightening at all. More than that, you really enjoyed being carried by your beloved on his spider-like body because the fancy wedding dress heavily embroidered with pearls and silver threads made it nearly impossible to move for you. Funny, just months ago you couldn't force yourself to look at those eight long legs with claws on the ends.

"Bucky, on your right!" Before the vicious lamia attacked the two of you, you had casted a barrier, protecting Bucky from a strong snake tail ready to strike.

Snapping out of his thoughts, your husband let out a strong silver rope that wrapped itself around creature's tail while Bucky charmed the monster, making it fall to the ground with a loud thud. You exhaled loudly above his ear, rubbing his chest and clinging closer to him.

"Dear, it's not the time to space out just yet." You said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "I don't want the kids to worry about their careless dad getting injured."

His cheeks grew warm at the mention of your kids, beautiful boy and girl you had given him a few years ago. There was nothing else that could bring Bucky more joy than watching you and them playing in the evening, his house filled with cheerful laugh and loud voices. He had never known he could ever give someone as much love as he gave his family, but Bucky didn't know someone could love him so strongly in return either. He had never felt happier in his entire life.

He adored graceful forms you had granted your children, their bodies looking even more human than his sisters', but when he talked about that, you always interrupted him saying that he doesn't look less beautiful to you just because he has more hair and his body is darker than theirs. It was unfair, you said and kept kissing him until he melted from your touch. One day you had to give him a big lecture upon judging the others based on their looks. Bucky couldn't possibly teach his own children they were better than others purely because they looked more crab-like rather than spider-like!

He smiled at you, eyeing him with concern. You were the best mother to their kids he could ever wish for.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

"Are you worrying about the children again?" You asked gently, knowing they were perfectly alright with Arabella and Miria. "Daddy?"

Oh, you loved watching him getting as red as tomato. What a little minx! You knew perfectly he got aroused when you called him that.

"Let's get out of here." He left a glowing charmed mark on the ground, showing where the lamia laid and surrounding it with a barrier. "I think we've done enough."

"If you refer to patrolling the forest, then yes." You smirked, and he felt warmth spreading in his chest as he remembered how eager you had been when he made love to you in whatever form. "You know, if not those damn creatures, I'd prefer riding on your back naked. It feels so good when I touch your lower body with my bare skin."

"Dear, I will fuck you against the tree right here if you don't stop." He growled, getting frustrated he couldn't touch you properly while you gigled in his long dark hair.

Bucky hurried further into the woods to the territory you two had already checked and cleared from any Hydra's monsters. Oh Lord, he desperately wanted to see you naked with your breasts and hips fully on display in front of him, calling him daddy when he fingered you, listening to your mewls and moans. It didn't help that you were already massaging his lower body, exactly the mound that covered his painfully hard cock.

"It's not even the mating season yet, but you're so eager." You laughed a little, and Bucky bit his lips.

"Look who's talking. I can feel you growing hot down there, little one."

You squeezed your thighs around his torso and started murming something that made him want to throw you to the ground and get on top of you immediately. Slowly stripping him of his leather jacket, you took off your own once your husband stopped, finding the right spot, and then you quickly slip off your pants.

"Come here, naughty girl." Bucky growled, helping you to come down and then lifting you up with his strong hands so you could lean to him. "You're too eager today. What happened?"

"I wanna mate, Gods, I wanna mate with you so bad." Your breath grew hotter as you felt his mound opening and his long, already leaking with precum cock touching your thigh. "Please. Today... isn't my safe day."

"Shit." He moaned, his instincts getting the better of him in an instant when you said you were ovulating. Damn it, he couldn't resist sliding inside your wet pussy, bottoming you out in one thrust. As you let out a hiss of pain and pleasure - he was damn big, and sometimes it wasn't easy to take him all - Bucky claimed your mouth with his, his grip on your body growing stronger. "You want me to knock you up again, honey? You want me to fill you with my seed? Because I fucking will."

You couldn't even answer him when Bucky rutted himself into you, drawing mewls and gasps from you as he fucked your relentlessly against the tree just as he promised, pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. His mouth was on your neck, leaving little spots on your gentle skin, marking you his, claiming you just like the first time. Huh, you knew you needed to talk to him about having more kids when he wasn't aroused so much as your body was barely prepared for such intense session - he kept thrusting even after you cummed on top of his cock, screaming his name.

"Bucky, p-please, ah-"

"Little minx. You wanna grow heavy with my brood again, and you didn't tell me?" His dangerously low voice made your pussy throb around him, and you tried to find purchase in his shoulders, gripping them tighter. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ahh, I'm s... s-sorry, daddy. I wanted t-to surprise you... ahh!" He inched you closer, holding your soft body against his, your lovely breasts pressing into Bucky's chest as he bottomed you out again, drawing a fucking scream from you.

Carefully sliding his hands down your body, he took you by the hips, and you crossed your legs behind his lower back, your toes curling. Your back arched of its own accord when you felt the coil starting to build up in your belly again, and you moaned louder, throwing your head back. The next second Bucky attached his lips to your neck, groaning at how tightly your walls were clenching him. The thought of you getting pregnant again made him burn with desire to fill you up to the brim.

"I'm gonna mate you till I'm sure I knocked you up." He whispered hotly in your ear, rolling his hips the way it made you see stars.

You were screaming his name as he picked up the pace, practucally pushing you into the tree, leaving a pair of scratches on your back, but you didn't care. The only one on your mind was the man who kissed and sucked and bit down on your skin, fucking you until you nearly passed out. As you squeezed him tighter, cumming again, you felt him finally stilling and releasing his hot sticky seed into your unprotected womb.

"I love you." He exhaled, his eyelashes trembling as he kissed you, grasping your ass as he filled you to the brim with his cum.

"I love you too." You muttered, touching his face with your lips. Mating with your lovely monster felt so fucking good.

You couldn't possibly imagine the depth of Bucky's gratitude for giving him a chance, for letting him love you, but he couldn't imagine how much you would grow to care about him either. Even after those years you two spent together, sometimes he was afraid you'd still flinch when he came to drop a kiss on your cheek or rub your back. However, the only thing you did was encouraging Bucky to continue, and then things often moved to your bedroom. The only reason why you didn't give him more children was because bearing an arachnid wasn't easy, and Bucky wanted to take care of your health, not destroy your gentle human body with constant pregnancies. But today... today you made him the happiest man in the world again.

Carefully lifting you up from his cock, Bucky took you in his arms like a bride, watching you breathing tiredly. He felt like he could explode from all the love gathered inside him.

"Oh, don't tell me I need to dress now." You pouted, and he chuckled, casting a spell - the very next second your body was fully dressed in your clothes again. Though you could feel his cum dripping out on your panties, it didn't bother you now. "You know, you have to teach me this thing if we will keep patrolling the forest."

Bucky got red when you winked at him and then laughed out loud, starting to walk back to the cave hidden deep into the woods.

THE END

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @ladyacrasia @iheartsebastianstan @what-is-your-wish @princessofdarkwinter @mandiiblanche @live—deliciously @heeeyitskay

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #yandere #winter soldier

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krypticss · 4 years ago

Text

CROSSING PATHS — Sihtric. PART 2

NOTE: back on my bullshit!! There’s only a few mentions of the first part, so if you wanna read just this and not the first part, that’s alright. Let me know what you think of it :)

PART 1

WORDS: 1,425

WARNINGS: death, blood, etc. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3!

The king was dead. Wessex grieved, and the Danes marched.

Your folk cheered and ravished on how they would slay saxons. Bets were made on who would have the most kills, and jokes over who would be the first to fall. On any other day, you would be laughing along and joining them with a heart burning with anticipation.

But not today. Today you walked in silence as your mind wandered elsewhere. To that night in Winchester. Your interaction looped back in your head and brought back other memories from your past. Your past alongside Kjartan, which you had done your best to forget. However, no matter how much you tried there was little you remembered of him before that night.

You marched towards an army, but your gut said you were marching towards him. Sihtric. You would meet in battle. If you did you had no reason to hesitate before killing him. Yet, you didn’t want to. It peaked your curiosity.

Wessex attacked in the woodlands, before the Danes could reach the open field. In a matter of seconds, the fight broke out. The road became a blunder of silver armor and wooden shields. Blood and bones. You fought for your life and the life of your people, and you were good at it.

Until your sword broke. The advantage you held of being ruthless, Saxons had of better equipment. Your weapon was not strong enough. You were on the dirt and a tall warrior hovered above you. Today was the day you’d meet your gods, after all.

A sword slashed through his back and out his stomach. Droplets of blood stained your skin and the man fell to the ground. A familiar face stared back at you, his chest heaved with pants while he pulled his blade out of the dead body.

“That’s one of ours, you fool!” One of his companions screamed from his stance a few yards away.

“Sorry,” Sihtric wiped the blood off his face. He gave you a warning gaze, “It won’t happen again.”

Whether it was directed to you or his friend, you didn’t know. But you wouldn’t take any chances. You grabbed the sword from the dead’s hands and stood up. Your head bobbed in a curt nod. You couldn’t bring yourself to say thank you.

Sihtric returned to the fight and you were left on the sidelines to look at the chaos that unfolded. Danes piled up on top of Saxons. You were losing. You had already lost. Few of your own kept fighting strong, but it no longer mattered. You ran to them and shouted.

“Fall back!”

You slashed a man’s throat, pushed another, you fought through your exhaustion to help those that remained. Soon, there was not one soul left to fight. Except you.

A body pressed against your back and a blade touched your throat. “Enough,” He whispered in your ear. Your leaders had either fled to fight another day, or had long bled out on the floor. But you didn’t see them.

Your grip was tight on the handle of your sword, “So our paths cross once again.” You taunted.

“Drop your sword.”

“I wish to go to Valhalla,” You hissed, “or have you forgotten how death works, Sihtric?”

“You will not die today,” reassured Sihtric, “if you drop your sword.”

Your weapon fell by your feet. You took in a deep breath, “Why?”

“Because I say so,” He smirked, “Finan! Tie her up, she is coming with us.”

The man, the one who had yelled at him for saving you, stared, baffled, “Why?”

Sihtric ignored him, and Finan walked closer to you with a piece of rope he got from one of the horses, as he approached you, Sihtric holstered his dagger. You felt the heat of his body push away as he left.

“Why?” Finan asked you. His Irish accent was thickly laced in his words. You shrugged.

To your despise and discomfort, you were dragged back to Winchester by your enemies. The walk was long and you were not granted a horse. Other than a few looks from some of the men, you were treated fairly well. For a prisoner.

Once you reached their town, a warm welcome waited for you. They praised their new king and rejoiced in their victory. You were taken to the stables by Sihtric, and waited patiently for him to take care of his horse and Uhtred’s. Your hands were tied, so you weren’t of much assistance. He was quiet as he did his work. Everyone else had already gone to the tavern or brothel to celebrate. You could hear the cheers from where you stood. A constant reminder of your loss.

“Why am I here?” You asked once the silence became to loud for you.

Sihtric finished tying his horse to the wood before he answered, “Where would you rather be?”

“Home.”

“And where is that?” You clenched your jaw. There was no denying, you had no home. He pressed further, “With Cnut? Haesten?”

“What is your point?”

Finally, he turned and gave you his full attention, “Why do you serve men who are driven by nothing but their own greed? We are Danes, but that does not mean we must follow them.”

You laughed, “Are you suggesting that I follow the Daneslayer?”

“Uhtred is an honorable man. He is different.”

“I will not turn against my people.”

“Your people left you to die on the battlefield today,” He spat. You pretended the words didn’t hurt as much as they did. He took a deep breath, and moved closer, “I believe you are smarter than that. And I believe we keep meeting each other for a reason. If you wish to return to Cnut, I will not stop you. But I hope you will consider my offer.”

To prove his point, he cut you lose. You rubbed your sore wrists with relief, “What does your lord think of this?”

“Uhtred trusts my judgement,” Sihtric gave you a soft smile. He moved so he was out of your way. You saw a clear path right before you, yet you were conflicted.

“You put too much faith on your beliefs,” You warned.

Sihtric only shrugged and leaned against the stable wall. Truth was, he knew you better than you knew him. He had watched you closely many times. Your face and body had crossed his mind more times than he could remember. Finan had warned him the same you had. You are not thinking with your head, he said. Call him a fool, but his faith was strong on his gods and his gut, and they both told him this was the right thing to do.

“Perhaps,” Sihtric pushed away from the wall and started walking towards the tavern where his friends waited for him. The image was fairly similar to the end of your last encounter, and you found your heart tightening in your chest.

“Sihtric,” You called out, he turned to you in one motion.

You closed the distance between the two of you with a few steps and swallowed dry. You mustered up the courage to say the words you needed to say.

“Thank you.”

You softly stroked his cheek, and on the tip of your toes, placed a gentle kiss on his lips as a gesture of your gratitude. Each pounding heartbeat inside his chest echoed in his ears. As you pulled away, his eyes remained closed for a long moment. His posture was even more rigid than it had been in battle. To Sihtric, fighting was natural. Who he was, down to the core, a warrior. This was new. The way heat rose from his chest down to his stomach, how his entire body burned with anticipation.

He pulled you closer by the waist and locked his lips on yours with a burning kiss. Your hands roamed up his neck, fingers tangled on his hair. This was more than a simple display of gratitude. The kiss was filled with desire, and yearning. It was a bargain. Stay.

His nails sank into your corset, bringing you closer, you leaned onto him. Sihtric forced himself to pull away as he heaved for more air.

“Will you stay?” He asked.

You did not have a proper answer.

“I will stay the night,” You stated, conflicted.

Those beautiful eyes stared into yours. Sihtric nodded. As much as he desired, you couldn’t be forced to join him. If he could have you for one night only, he would make his peace with that. He had waited for you for a long time, he was willing to wait a little more.

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom imagine #sihtric #sihtric imagine #sihtric x reader #tlk #tlk s3

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ready-to-rally · 4 years ago

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Overwatch Possible New Hero Teaser: Toshiro Yagami

Letter translation below

Haikei, Toshiro, beloved husband:

The cherry blossoms are in glorious bloom after a gentle winter, soft clouds of pink against the green trees on the hillside. The season returns me to the winter day when the Hashimoto took you away from us, when snowflakes fell as the petals do now.

Strange that we are so close, yet we can visit you only when our current “masters” wish it. I hope they value your work enough to bring us together soon. Our daughter appreciated your recent gift, though I pray the blades you forge for the Hashimoto aren’t nearly so sharp, that what you craft for them is only equal to their sordid selves.

The forge of Yamagami Blades remains locked up tight, and since we last saw you in the autumn, we have moved into the upper level. It helps us feel close to you in many ways. In other ways, I feel your absence even more keenly. The musical hammering of the hot tamahagane, the song of the steel, is missing from this place. So is your own voice, your singing to the sword as you brushed it with yakibatsuchi, and the crackle of the fire when the blade hit the forge and the hiss as it cooled in the water. Sometimes I think I hear you there, yet it is always only the wind.

But I will not linger here. For as winter leads to spring, let me write a letter of lightness—a warm breeze bearing drifting blossoms. Perhaps it will grant us both a little peace, even as I turn my blade to keep the peace here from shattering altogether.

Many things remain unchanged, of course, in these eight years since your last trip home. You will doubtless be pleased to hear that Ichiko refuses to change the family recipe at Gozan Ramen, and the black garlic oil is as delicious as ever. It was crowded today, as many have come to celebrate the cherry blossoms. Yui’s dog, Mochi, is getting on in years, but his likeness still spins on the sign of the pottery school. Most of our favorite places are kept alive thanks to the tourists who delight in visiting quaint old towns such as ours. They eat ice cream from the cat café and burn their yen at the arcade or the new shopping mall you have yet to behold. Then, happy with their souvenirs, these day visitors skitter back onto the train before nightfall, when the lanterns flicker to life and the Hashimoto pound on closed shop doors, taking their “share” of what is earned by the labor of others and funneling it up to their betters through the aptly named Tora no Sumika.

Shimada Castle still sits high in its place of glory, overlooking our city like a stalwart stone temple awaiting a benevolent deity. You and I know well enough, we two who make and wield the sword, that while their castle was indeed strong stone, the Shimada were no gods, but people—and criminals at that. But the Shimada understood that honor and loyalty forge the strongest bond between ruler and ruled.

Lately, the Shimada have consumed my idle thoughts. They asked much of those who followed them, but they inspired us to give it. And in return, the Shimada clan led with integrity and treated us with respect. As you know, my mother and hers before her were honored to tend the fox shrine far from the clamor of town. But when it was clear my soul longed for the sword and I excelled at kenjutsu, the Shimada chose me over all others as their swordmaster. They knew that Kanezaka was not just the seat of their power, it was their home . . . and ours, too.

But where the Shimada gave, the Hashimoto take. After all, when one has many homes, one has none—and the Hashimoto clan claws at nearly every city in this nation. We are nothing special to them; one day they will drink us dry and move on, leaving us empty and broken. Even now, some twelve years on, I see the mark they have left on our city.

I regret that, even though the old part of Kanezaka appears outwardly unchanged, it has suffered under the cruel hand of the Hashimoto. Our view of the motherly mountain now encompasses the jut and arrogance of skyscrapers and neon, not the warm comfort of wood and wind and stone as it once did.

I stand, as Kanezaka itself does, between the old ways of the mountain and the Shimada and the new, sharp, hard ways of the city and the Hashimoto. We both know that the Hashimoto have you in their “care” not only for your skills, but also to keep me in my place—to ensure that I do not falter in their charge to keep peace in this city, among these people whom I respect so much. I will obey our current masters, for to do anything else will put both you and our friends here at risk.

I had hoped that over time the Hashimoto would grow lazy. That they would see we are an honest people whom they need not oppress.

Not even the most faithful dog could take such a beating without biting back—and the people of Kanezaka are great of heart. We are being worn down. The demands upon the populace are increasing, and tempers are rising. Missed payments are met with more vicious abuses. And now someone has given the Hashimoto further reason for anger.

Over the last few months, shipments of Hashimoto contraband have gone missing. Their men have been badly beaten or robbed when returning from their rounds. Perhaps most boldly of all, messages painted in bright, conspicuous colors have started to appear, though they are quickly painted over.

These fools are not so subtly throwing in-nen at the Hashimoto, and their acts are received as well as you would expect. These vigilantes think to rise strong against a tide of violence. Instead they strike fast—and hide faster—while the good people of Kanezaka take their penance. And so my job—to keep our own people, our friends, in submission—has become both more delicate and more vital with each passing day. There are moments when I can scarce believe the world in which I walk now: You, making beautiful work for undeserving pigs. I, who trained the scions of Sojiro Shimada, forced to turn my swordmaster’s blade against my own. The children of this town, growing to adulthood with only the brutal, thoughtless Hashimoto to determine what is good or bad . . . our daughter among them. It is dangerous in this city now.

I will walk through Kanezaka today not simply to imagine you walking beside me or to greet our neighbors. I have made an offering to take to the Tetsuzan Shrine of my ancestors: A bowl coated with brilliant blue-green yuyaku from the pottery school, into which Ichiko has ladled a splash of dashi. A rice ball from our neighbor. From Kenta, a piece of red bean mochi—our daughter’s favorite. To all this I have added a generous pour of sake. I may have poured a small cup for myself as well.

I will ask the fox spirit for strength to continue this fight and for wisdom for myself and for all of us. Then, after sunset, I will take the sword that you gave me so long ago at our yuino and patrol the streets of this place that both fills my heart and breaks it. I will find these self-appointed “guardians,” who, if not deterred from this path, may be the spark of a misguided and deadly fire that will consume us all.

May you and I both be as your blades are: strong and sharp. Obey the Hashimoto, as I must, and give them the outward show of respect, even if you cannot give true respect a home in your heart.

I will close on the lighter note that I promised and say that I know if you were here you would remind me, “The kitsune can change your luck with a flick of even one of her tails.” May she flick all nine of them and send some much-needed good fortune our way.

Kashiko—

#overwatch #new hero #shimada clan #genji shimada #hanzo shimada #toshiro yagami

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satan-chillin · 3 years ago

Text

Hereafter (3/7)

Wei Wuxian is sent off of Cloud Recesses, bade by his fathers to “have fun and make friends” which, now that he thinks about it, sounds like a gross oversimplification of what the next six months away from home will entail.

If he happens to form unlikely connections, start a matchmaking, and gets unwittingly involved in the presently strained political state of the cultivation world, those are just par for the course.

Chasing after one of the famed Twin Jades of Lan, however, is an added bonus.

(Or, WWX was sent to Gusu by his fathers Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu)

Part 2 of Spirited Away Series. Part 1 here.

Also available in Ao3. Hereafter Chapter 1, 2

❆❆❆

The scowl Jiang Wanyin was throwing at him was really uncalled for.

“Is that face supposed to be anger on my behalf or...”

Jiang Wanyin scoffed. “You wish. You’re obviously in the wrong here.”

Wei Wuxian was tempted to smack him if his back wasn’t aching (and itching) as hell. He rolled his eyes. “Throw me in the ditch, will you. At least Nie-xiong thinks—ow!”

“Don’t move much,” came Nie Huaisang’s warning from the other side before dabbing a wet cloth at his back. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure they were both wincing. “And, well, you were guilty for taking the sacred Lan forehead ribbon, Wei-xiong.”

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “In my defense, I didn’t know it’s that important. Are those ribbons made from special silk or something?”

“It has always been part of their tradition,” Jiang Wanyin said, crossing his arms unrepentantly. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else outside their sect, we respect that as their guests.”

Chastised, Wei Wuxian pouted but did not retort. He understood Jiang Wanyin’s point, and he could imagine a-die’s disapproval that he might have taken it a little too far. Wei Wuxian let the matter go. “Fine, that’s on me, but I didn’t start the fighting!”

He was certain that he had planned to get some air the previous evening to lull his bones to sleep. He’d been delighted, in fact, when Lan Zhan had pulled up short, though he seemed to have gotten it in his head that Wei Wuxian was due for a punishment and not even the fun kind. All that for sleeping late as if Lan Zhan hadn’t been doing the very same thing, and pointing it out broke a bit of that surface calm that had Wei Wuxian defending himself the next moment (or trying not to get hauled, really).

The ruckus and noise that followed resulted in… this.

He hadn’t been disciplined this bad since a-die had him running twenty laps around the manor. He was also sure that the only one suffering was him; Lan Zhan being a Lan was definitely used to this, though he would have to have been unruly himself to develop a thick skin to withstand the strikes.

Wei Wuxian was hard-pressed not to think too much of a porcelain back lined with red—er, not in present company, at least.

“What’s that expression for?” Jiang Wanyin asked haltingly.

“Heh. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That better not be another trouble in your mind. Look, carrying you back once is enough. I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”

“Speak for yourself. Nie-xiong can carry me.”

“Ah.” NIe Huaisang chuckled nervously. “I’m not exactly as strong as Wanyin to do it often, Wei-xiong.”

“See?”

“Pft. You’re just jealous you’re not the one being tended right now.”

“What’s that supposed to—A-jie!”

Wei Wuxian found enough energy to turn around towards the ajar door and found a young woman entering with a tray of food that smelled delectable. Jiang Wanyin closed the door behind her and helped her down to where he previously sat.

“Good morning, Young Master Wei. I apologize for barging in like this, but I heard what happened from A-Cheng and thought to bring some soup over,” she said kindly. “It’s a shame that we haven’t been introduced before. My name is Jiang Yanli.”

Wei Wuxian hid a grimace as he sat up and pulled his thin robe over. It wouldn’t do to appear indecent in front of a young lady. He bowed as low as he could. “It’s an honor to meet Maiden Jiang, even if this one is unfit for the company of a maiden.”

He knew he liked Maiden Jiang when she returned his smile brightly, waving off his apology before serving him a bowl of what she called lotus soup. “I’m guessing the three of you haven’t had the morning meal,” she addressed the three of them. “I made enough for us.”

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t exaggerating when he had called his elder sister good-natured, and it was clear why he loved and admired her greatly. She reminded Wei Wuxian of shijie Xiaolian, in fact, with both their caring and motherly nature. She closely treated Nie Huaisang like another younger brother, and based on how concerned she was over Wei Wuxian’s back and empathetic of his situation, she was probably considering him as a new addition.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind, to be honest, but Jiang Wanyin probably would.

“Don’t spoil him much, A-jie,” he reminded her once she began peeling lotus seeds for Wei Wuxian. “He can move his hands.”

“I don’t mind,” Jiang Yanli told him gently. “A friend of A-Cheng is my friend too. Besides, this is the first time I’ve met the person you speak highly of.”

Wei Wuxian snickered at the sudden red on Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. “Aiya, Jiang-xiong, you never told me,” he couldn’t resist teasing. He inclined his head. “You know, I never quite figured out why you seemed opposed to me spending time with Nie-xiong before, but I think I know now why.”

“If the next thing that will come out of your mouth is another nonsense you can forget it,” Jiang Wanyin replied shortly before offering to clean up and marching out with the dirty dishes. Nie Huaisang excused himself, muttering about fetching another basin of warm water but following Jiang Wanyin’s direction.

Maiden Jiang smiled impishly after them, eyes alight with something like a secret only she was privy of. Once left alone with her, Wei Wuxian stood, not without difficulty, and set about making a pot of tea for her. She looked startled and was about to protest about not needing to be served but thought better of it once she considered their new distance where she now sat across from him. If it was even possible, her ever-present smile softened. She thanked him, both for the cup of tea and his thoughtfulness.

“A-Cheng can be prickly to most,” she began conversationally, “but he’s a good person who finds it hard to express himself. Before, he only had A-Sang who was determined not to be shaken off. I’m glad he has you now too.”

Wei Wuxian grinned toothily then sighed, feigning disappointment. “To be fair, Maiden Jiang, when he told me about you, I thought he wasn’t actually picturing his sister,” he mock-whispered. “Now, though, I understand that you racked up all the patience and left him a sour grape.”

Her clear tinkling laugh was infectious. “I suppose that makes him more suitable for our colors,” she jested. “But you haven’t seen A-Cheng with his dogs, Young Master Wei. He loves them dearly, and they’re his first friends. They must be missing him as much as he misses them.”

“Ah, dogs,” Wei Wuxian repeated weakly. They must be as nice as Maiden Jiang, and Jiang Wanyin, thought of them, but he couldn’t help but repress a shudder. “Are they… cute?” he asked lamely.

“They are. Energetic and very cuddly too.” Maiden Jiang—bless her soul—did not point out the abrupt awkwardness. “I love them as well, but I find that I’m partial to cats. A-sang once brought one with him from Qinghe when he visited us.”

Cats were alright, he thought. There had been a female tabby that his shixiong liked to feed and had shown Wei Wuxian her kittens when he was a child. It had been one of his early memories in the manor, and he told as much to Maiden Jiang who happily listened about his childhood at Four Seasons. It was likely that she knew as much as her brother, though she made no mention of it, telling him instead about her days as a little girl in Lotus Pier and how she had taken up culinary, learning from the head of the kitchen who had been like a grandmother to her.

“Young Master Wei,” she said, “I’d prefer it if you call me Yanli.”

“Only if you call me A-Xian.”

“Very well… A-Xian.”

❆❆❆

Although he was a little better, Wei Wuxian was embarrassingly waddling come afternoon. To make matters worse, he had the misfortune to come across some sniggering peers who followed a haughty-looking young master who barely spared Wei Wuxian a glance before walking the path without pause.

Unexpectedly, though, Jiang Wanyin took a minute to properly greet the young master who merely acknowledged it with a curt nod. Rude.

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. Jiang Wanyin simply muttered, “Prancing peacock.”

“You know him?”

“Who doesn’t?” He rolled his eyes. “Right. That’s Jin Zixuan.”

“I gathered as much,” came the dry reply. Wei Wuxian had made it his mission to memorize as many names as he was able, and he had started with the names of the heirs of the major sects. “I never thought you knew him personally since I’ve never seen him with you or Nie-xiong. I guess you sect heirs have an inner circle.”

“Would’ve been better if we only knew each other in passing,” Jiang Wanyin huffed. Annoyed, he supplied, “He’s A-jie’s betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at the direction where Jin Zixuan and his lackeys disappeared to. “Huh.”

He had only met Yanli earlier, but already he felt a protectiveness toward her; such a lovely and kind person better be treasured by her future spouse.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted once he caught sight of white from his periphery. He noticed Zewu-jun approaching, smiling. “Young Master Wei, Young Master Jiang.”

He could only return the greeting in embarrassment. He hoped that smile wasn’t a dig at his state; after all, he did commit what must have been comparable to a crime to his younger brother.

Gods, that sounded dirty.

Lan Xichen, blissfully unaware of what was going on inside Wei Wuxian’s head, said, ”I honestly did not expect to see you moving about today, but I’m glad to see you well enough to walk.” As if sensing Wei Wuxian wanting to say that it hurt all over, he added, sounding apologetic. “Uncle is strict, but his punishment is worse than necessary. It can take you a week and a half to completely heal.”

Wei Wuxian internally winced. While he wasn’t overly enthusiastic with the lectures—oh, he loved learning, and, truly, that was the only thing motivating him to wake up early and tolerate Lan Qiren’s droning voice—he really didn’t need the dent on his studies.

“I’ll let you know of a place that will help you heal faster so you won’t fall behind in your schooling,” Lan Xichen said. “Nonetheless, I’m pleased to see that Young Master Wei is being taken care of by his friends.”

“It’s kind of Nie-xiong to tend my wounds,” Wei Wuxian said happily. “Young Master Jiang might be getting a little fed up, but I admire his patience, and because of him I get to know Maiden Jiang and her cooking.” He nodded sagely, completely aware of Jiang Wanyin’s growing embarrassment. “I also believe that he’s waiting for me to heal to beat my ass for getting spoiled by his sister and Nie-xiong.”

It was funny how Jiang Wanyin struggled between wanting to throttle him and smack his back and debating whether it was worth it to do either or both in front of the esteemed Zewu-jun.

❆❆❆

The place Lan Xichen mentioned was a stream by the backhills, easy to miss with the light mist that surrounded it. A cold soak could be what he needed.

Wei Wuxian ambled by the bank, untying his belt but stopped when he caught movement in the water. He squinted.

It was Lan Zhan. Naked from waist up.

“What are you doing here?”

He was also murderously glaring at him.

“Zewu-jun told me about this place.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, his eyes admittedly lingering at the expanse of skin that seemed to go on indefinitely… and where angry red marks marred his back. As someone who was inflicted with the same punishment, Wei Wuxian knew it was as bad as it felt.

He reached for his sleeve, taking out a small pouch. “Believe me when I say I didn’t know—” He fell silent. He wasn’t planning to return it this soon; later, maybe, after his bath. “I shouldn’t have snatched your ribbon. I’m sorry.”

A flurry of pale cloth completely hid Lan Zhan’s torso from his sight, though he still refused to turn in Wei Wuxian’s direction. He sighed, removing the fan from his waist and propping his sword by a rock. Hesitantly, Wei Wuxian dipped his toe on the water, shivering at the frigid contact.

His soaked robes weighed him down as he trudged further into the cold water, slowing at the progressively slippery smooth stones under his bare feet. He bit his lip, grateful that Lan Zhan’s back was on him or else he’d see how utterly ungraceful he was just to reach him.

“Here,” he said awkwardly, extending the pouch. Lan Zhan determinedly ignored him, though there was an unmistakable pinking at the tip of his ears. Not knowing what to make of it, Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and clarified, “I have your ribbon inside.” He frowned suddenly, feeling an odd shift in the water. “Wait. Lan Zhan, do you feel that?”

As soon as the words left him, a strong current took him by his ankles, dragging him underwater, and Wei Wuxian knew no more.

#fanfic #fanfiction #shl fanfic #cql #chen qing ling #mdzs #untamed fic #crossover #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #the untamed #word of honor #wwx gets adopted by wenzhou

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dc41896 · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Family

Hey guys! So this imagine was meant to be put out for Thanksgiving but as we see that didn’t happen lol. So although it’s a little late, I hope you guys like it and i also hope that for those who celebrate it, that you had a great Thanksgiving!! (PS: I wasn’t trying to follow a certain timeline so if things seem like they don’t make sense in that area, my bad I just pieced things together. Also his niece and nephew don’t have names because I didn’t know their names and didn’t want to give them fake ones because it of course wouldn’t be right so I just left it as is.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black Reader

Warnings: None (I feel like y'all already know it’s gonna be fluff lol)

Word Count: 2,461

“There. Everything looks good,” you thought as you looked at all the covered food on the table. You and Chris were hosting Thanksgiving dinner at his place with both of your immediate families coming over and needless to say, you were a bit nervous. Not only was this was the first time you guys were in charge of Thanksgiving, this was also the first time both of your families would be in the same area and you hoped everything would turn out perfect.

Dressed in your slightly oversized burgundy sweater with dark jeans and thigh high black boots, you make your way into the living room to see your boyfriend currently getting cookies out of the jar on the counter. “Hey don’t eat all of them, save some for the kids,” you jokingly scold placing the top back on. “Plus if you eat too much you won’t want any dinner.”

“Sorry mom,” he laughs as he kisses your cheek. “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, as do you Mr. Evans in your adorable old man sweater,” you smile brushing crumbs off the dark navy blue piece of clothing. “Thank you Ms. Y/L/N even though you just said I have on an old man sweater when we both know there’s nothing old about me,” he counters with a wink.

“Uh huh yea we’ll see when you’re passed out on the couch later with the game watching you,” you smirk as he lets out his signature boisterous laugh. “Ok that’s only happened once and you were right there beside me passed out so what does that make you then?,” Chris asks with arms crossed in front of his chest, mocking your smirk.

Before you could answer, you both hear the rattling of the doorknob followed by a couple knocks. “Chris and Y/N?! It’s us!,” yells his mom, Lisa, as she makes her way down the hall along with his other family members.

“Hey! Happy Thanksgiving everyone!,” you greet meeting them halfway. As you all exchange hugs and ‘Happy Thanksgiving’s’, you hear the doorbell ring signaling your parents and grandma had arrived, which also meant dinner could officially begin.

“I got it,” Chris says before lightly jogging to the front door. “Can we eat now Y/N? I’m hungry and skipped breakfast to eat as much as I can,” asked his nephew, an excited smile spread across his face.

“Yes of course you can! I finished heating up everything a few minutes ago so go ahead and fix your plates,” you answer leading everyone to the table. “Oh my gosh Y/N everything looks so good! I love how you’ve decorated,” Carly, his sister gushed, one child on her hip and the other close beside her.

“Thanks! Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks,” you reply with a small laugh. “As long as Chris didn’t make anything, we already know it’ll taste amazing,” adds Scott as he walks by making you and the rest of his family laugh.

“Hey I heard that!,” interrupts Chris walking in the dining room with your family. “There’s nothing wrong with my cooking.”

“No none at all if we’re talking about pizza rolls, popcorn, or anything premade that you just have to heat up,” interjected his other sister, Shanna, making the kids laugh and Chris roll his eyes.

“Don’t worry sweetie everyone starts out rough with cooking,” your grandma, Diane, reassures gently patting Chris on the arm. “At least you didn’t make the oven catch on fire.”

“Grandma! Lets not bring up my cooking misfortunes,” you respond with a laugh. “No grandma I think that’s a perfect topic of discussion!,” he counters with a smirk wrapping an arm around your grandmother’s shoulders as he leads her to her seat.

Seeing both families talking and enjoying themselves, as well as the food, made a nostalgic feeling come over you, and you were instantly reminded of your family coming together for the holidays to spend time together doing everything from watching Christmas movies to play board games. With everything that came with your career as a singer, it had been a couple years since you had a proper holiday season with your family. Of course you had Chris to spend them with since he wasn’t able to go home either, and both of you loved spending that time together, but you both agreed that finally being able to see your families and spend time with them was something you both dearly missed.

Noticing your unusual silence, Chris grabs your hand resting on the table and lightly kisses your knuckles bringing you out of your temporary trance. “Hey, you ok love?,” he asks with a whisper so only you could hear him.

“Yea I’m fine, just really happy and blessed right now to see everyone and get to spend this time together,” you answer with a soft smile. You tried to hold them back, but you couldn’t stop the tears from escaping your eyes and now your separate conversation had caught the attention of everyone in the room.

“Don’t cry Y/N! Here you can play with my doll to feel better,” his niece offers hurriedly walking up to you with her American Girl doll and making you smile as more tears flowed and, more than likely, ruined your makeup.

“What’s wrong sweetie? Do you need to go outside?,” asked your mom, Mary, as she rubbed your back, something she always did ever since you were a small child to make you feel better.

“I’m fine I promise. These are happy tears,” you answered using one of the many napkins handed to you by everyone at the table to try to clean up your face. “I was just telling Chris how I’m so happy to have all of you guys here and get to spend time with everyone. The past couple years we couldn’t really travel to visit anyone because of work and schedules so it really warms my heart to finally have everyone together.”

“Aww and we’re happy to be here with you guys! While you missed us you know we all missed you too,” Lisa responds reaching across the table to hold both yours and Chris’ hand.

“I know, I’m just super emotional today and I’m sorry for crying everyone. I didn’t mean to switch the mood,” you answer with a small laugh followed by everyone shaking their heads and saying “no” to reassure you that you didn’t do anything wrong.

“The holidays is especially time for family and to spend time together, which brings joy as well as other not so pleasant emotions at times,” your dad, Theo, speaks making everyone laugh. “Don’t feel bad for crying honey, we know yall love us and we love yall too.”

“And speaking of family,” Chris starts as he turns to look in your eyes and take your hands in his. “I want to thank you for making this amazing dinner for my family and yours as well as decorating and basically doing everything that we all know I can’t and would definitely struggle with if I tried to do it myself.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see Scott get up from the table with his phone in hand, but thought nothing of it since you were so focused on Chris and what he was saying.

“And I also want to thank you for bringing my family, from my mom down to the kids, into your heart and treating them as your own from the first day. I feel like a lot of people wait until things are official to do that, but you didn’t and showed me, and them, how big of a heart you truly have and I love you for that,” he continues, eyes red from the few tears that fell while he was talking, which you wiped away with your thumbs. “With that said, I wanted to ask you Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N if you would do me the honor of marrying me, and not only making me the happiest man in the world, but also officially becoming an Evans and being part of this crazy family?”

Kneeling down on one knee, he pulls out a sparkling pear shaped diamond ring with smaller diamonds surrounding the centerpiece and around the band. You didn’t try to stop the tears from coming this time as you stuck out your hand while nodding your head.

“Yes! Of course I will!,” you excitedly answer as everyone around you clapped and cheered while he slid the dazzling piece of jewelry on your finger. Although you knew he was really supposed to be the only one on the ground at that moment, you couldn’t help yourself from kneeling down in front of him to kiss his lips.

“Way to make me bawl my eyes out after I just got myself together Evans,” you joke as he lets out a laugh, wiping away your tears. “I’m sorry love, but to make you feel better, you look just as beautiful as you always do future Evans,” he replies before kissing your lips again.

“Show us the ring Y/N!,” Shanna squealed, bouncing a little in her seat from excitement. Getting up from the floor, you reach your hand over the table to show everyone the immaculate ring shining against your skin. Now having time to really look at it, you realized that it looked very familiar, but couldn’t quite place where you previously saw it.

That is, until you looked at your grandmother, which caused your other hand to cover your mouth as more tears cascaded down your face and left your future in-laws slightly confused.

“Y/N made that look because she just realized that her engagement ring is a ring that her grandfather bought me a long time ago. She used to always look at it as a little girl and I would catch her playing dress up and wearing it sometimes so I promised her that when the time came, she could have it,” Diane answered blinking back a few tears of her own.

“With her permission, I had it updated with the smaller diamonds and made sure she liked the final product too,” Chris adds hugging you and kissing your forehead as your remaining tears stained his sweater. “What’s next are you surprising me with a puppy?!,” you ask causing everyone around to laugh.

“I don’t think Dodger would appreciate another dog taking away our attention. Would you boy?,” Chris answers bending down to pet the currently hyper dog seeing the emotions of everyone around.

“Ok I think this calls for a toast!,” announces Scott holding up his wine glass, followed by everyone else doing the same. “To Chris and Y/N, may there be many more holiday dinners just like this one filled with plenty of laughs and family.”

______

After everything from dinner was cleaned up and everyone was full, the talking moved from the table to the living room where the football game between the Patriots and the Cowboys was brightly displayed on the flat screen television. Of course Chris and his family were for the Patriots, whereas you and your family were for the Cowboys since that was your hometown team. Everyday leading up to this moment, Chris would tease you about how he’d be sure to let you cry on his shoulder once New England beat your beloved Cowboys.

However, he was pretty silent right now since Dallas was ahead by a touchdown. “Need some tissue love? You’re looking like you’re about to cry,” you tease pinching his cheek. “Here you can lean on my shoulder if you need to cry.”

“Very funny, but there’s plenty of time left in the game and I know we’re gonna come back,” he answers with a smirk. “Aww look at that, first lovers spat as an engaged couple! And to think Chris said all this was gonna happen when he first saw you Y/N,” Carly smiled, momentarily taking a break from playing with the kids.

“Wait you said we would get married when you first saw me? When did you first see me?,” you ask turning to look at your fiancé. “Hold up you didn’t tell her about your crush?! Oh this is good,” Scott shouts sitting up from the other side of the couch.

“I guess today is also completely embarrass Chris day,” Chris groans covering his face with his hands as he lays his head in your lap making you laugh.

“Okay so Chris had been a fan of yours since he saw your Grammy performance of Knew Better with Cardi B, and always wanted to meet you but wanted it to be natural and refused to let his team get in contact with yours. So fast forward to D23 where he was there for Marvel of course and he found out you were also there for your song for Forever Wonderland, and let me tell you he became a nervous wreck!,” he explains.

“Really?! You should’ve came up to me, I promise I probably would’ve been nervous too,” you answer playing with his hair.

“I was with him and tried to get him to go up to you, but he was all like ‘No she has enough going on, I’ll do it later’ and as you see it never happened. Then came the Oscars where your song was nominated and you were sitting down the same row as us, and I told lover boy that then was the best chance he would have in a while so he had to go for it,” Scott continues, ignoring Chris’ arm swatting at him to stop talking.

“So I’m expecting him to be like ‘No’ and all shy right, but he sits up a little straighter in his seat and tells me that I’m right and he has to get it done because he’s not missing out on his wife again. I was like ‘You’re wife? Since when?’ and he goes ‘Since Knew Better’ with the biggest smile and brightest eyes I have ever seen on him, and that is the story of how our dear Christopher Robert Evans knew he was gonna marry you Y/N,” he finishes with a smile as he nudges Chris’ shoulder.

Looking down, you notice his face and ears are as red as Rudolph’s nose, which make you softly giggle. “Babe that’s so sweet! In fact you want to know something? When I had to go up and perform and I saw you in the audience, something inside told me that you’d be in my life somehow.”

“And look at us now,” Chris responds as he turns to look up at you, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Yea look at us now,” you repeat with a smile.

Taglist: @felicity-x0 @melinda-january @honeychicana @themyscxiras @crushed-pink-petals @lady-olive-oil @fumbling-fanfics @lovelymari4 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @nina-sj @itshinothey @wildfirecracker��

If anybody else wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and doesn’t see their name, or only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, just let me know! :)

#chris evans #chrisxblackreader #chrisxreader #chrisxwoc

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khoicesbyk · 4 years ago

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My Two First Loves.

Homecoming Part 1: The Big Game.

A/N: I’ve read a multitude of books. And this one is becoming one that I thoroughly enjoy. So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. Contains suggestive content and strong language. You know? The usual from me. 😁 | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Characters: Isaiah Harris (LI) and Kailah Price (MC) | All Characters: names (except MC) are property of Pixelberry. | All Characters are 18+.| Current Word Count: 2,195 words.

It was warm late August day and Isaiah Harris was shocked. He just stood there staring at Kailah Price like she had lost her mind.

“Run this by me again; you want me to do WHAT?!”, he asks her wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “You heard me, Isaiah. You should run for Homecoming King. Since I’m running Homecoming Queen; you should run too.”, she told him.

“I’m sorry. Have you met me?! I’m not a Homecoming King, Kailah!”, he told her. She rolled her eyes at him; before she said, “you won’t know what you are until you try, Isaiah. You might even like it!”

He shook his head and said to her, “you’re insane! Utterly insane! What in the hell makes you think anybody would ever vote for me?”

“You mean besides your charm and good looks? You’ll be running with me! Especially since Jaylen is running with Brandi.”, she told him.

“Of course golden boy is running! Because why the fuck not?”, he sneered.

Even though he groaned and grimaced at thought of it; he couldn’t tell her no and as he started to think it over; he realized that he did like the idea of running with her and sticking it to Jaylen. “Alright fine! I’ll do it. I’ll run with you.”, he told her.

“Perfect! You won’t regret it! I promise you!”, she said as she threw her arms around his neck in a quick hug.

“I’m starting to regret it already.”, he teased her.

“Come on; let’s get to class before Mrs. Hartman chews my ass out again.”, he said to her as they walked to class.

He enjoyed her and her company; even though he’d never admit it out loud. She was the only friend he had that year. For the past 3 years or so; life hadn’t exactly been fair to him. Stints in juvie hardened him to the world. Losing his dad sophomore year; sent him into a tailspin that not even he thought he’d get out of. He was considered a lone wolf. And that was the way he liked it.

Until he met her that one fateful day. Until she smiled at him. Until he saw those pretty brown eyes of hers. Kailah Price was like a breath of fresh air to him. Her smile could light up a room. But; at this moment it lit up his whole life. He always felt alone in a cold world; until she came along and changed that. He felt relaxed around her. He didn’t have to hide or keep his lone wolf act. She didn’t judge him. She let him be him.

After weeks of her campaigning for the both of them and him just smiling and nodding while she campaigned; it was Homecoming weekend. But before the dance and the announcement of who would be King and Queen; it was time for the Homecoming game against Parkvale High!

“You ready for the game, today?”, Kailah asked him. “I guess so.”, he shrugged. Although he wanted to be QB; Isaiah had to settle for being on defense. Why? Because that position was taken by Jaylen. The one he called “golden boy”.

“You’ll do great, Isaiah. I have faith in you.”, she tells him trying to comfort him. He gave her a small half smile and said, “thanks Kailah. You’re the only person on this planet that ever does. I better get to practice before I don’t even get a chance to warm the bench. I’ll see you later.”

And with that he was gone. There was something about him that mesmerized her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was; but she knew it was something. He was fascinating to her. Whenever they hung out or were near each other; her heart skipped a few beats. Whenever he kinda smiled at her; the heat in her body went up 12 degrees.

The only person that made her feel like that is Jaylen Jennings. But; she couldn’t have him. Why? Because he’s dating her best friend Brandi Lawrence. She’s secretly madly in love with Jaylen and has been since they were in kindergarten. And now that he’s all grown up and sexy her love for him has grown tenfold.

And he’s quite the catch. At 6’1 and chocolate he was everything she wanted a man to be. Driven, intelligent, athletic, focused and any other positive adjective that she could think of. He was destined to follow in his dad’s footsteps; by eventually joining The Marines.

He was perfect! But! He was hers. Hers being Brandi’s. Even though Kailah wanted him more than she wanted air; he was taken. And there was nothing her broken heart could do about it.

Enter Isaiah Harris. This oh so dark and mysterious yet; sexy as all get out young man. His bright smile (when she actually got him to smile) as well as smoldering brown eyes mesmerized her. Like Jaylen; Isaiah was tall too. 6’4 to be exact. Also like Jaylen; Isaiah was chocolate too.

According to what he told her; he has tattoos. But; he only shows the ones that he got in honor of his grandmother and his dad. A rose wrapped in a scroll on the inside of his left forearm for her. And a sword wrapped in a scroll on the inside of his right forearm for him.

He’s the bad boy she always dreamed about; but never thought would’ve existed in real life.

And now; it was time for the big game; and she was happy to see that Jaylen was starting. But; she was internally cheering for Isaiah. She wanted him to win so badly. After a tough practice; she wanted him to have a victory. And thankfully for her; he was about to get one.

As the game wound down to the final 2 minutes; Eastridge and Parkvale were tied 21-21 with Parkvale having the ball on the 5 yard line. It was up to Eastridge’s defense to make a stop and/or score.

And they got it, when Isaiah was able to not only force a fumble but; he returned it for the game winning touchdown. While the defense, most of the offense and the school celebrated Isaiah and his accomplishment. Jaylen, Coach Pierce and the remaining members of the offense looked on completely unimpressed.

Kailah was just as ecstatic about Isaiah winning the game. She couldn’t wait to tell him, how proud she was of him. While Brandi and the rest of the Cheer Squad also looked on. They were just as unimpressed by Isaiah as Jaylen and the others were. When he jogged over to her; he saw the excitement and adoration in her eyes.

“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! You did it! You’re all sweaty and completely smelly! But! You! Did! It! I’m so damn proud of you Isaiah!”, she exclaimed as she hugged him.

That hug took his breath away. No one had ever told him that they were proud of him. Not until she said it.

“It was just a touchdown Kailah. It was really nothing special!”, he replied trying to play it off.

“What do you mean it was nothing?! That touchdown gave the school the biggest win of the season! All thanks to you!”, she said while beaming with pride at him.

“You don’t give up on people do you?”, he asked with a chuckle. “Nope! Not even a little bit! Come on! The coach is waiting.”, she told him before they walked to where the rest of the team and the cheer squad were gathered around the coach. She thought the coach would congratulate him on winning the game but; that was not to be.

“Great win team! All of you did really well out there. But! Only one of you gets the game winning ball. And that person is…Jaylen!”, Coach Pierce said with pride. “Without your leadership and drive; we would’ve never gotten this far! Congrats my boy! You earned this game ball!”

When Jaylen accepted the ball; Brandi threw her arms around him and said, “I’m so proud of you baby! I knew you would do it! That’s why you’re the star of the team!” It was like a slap in the face to Isaiah.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”, he said. A mix of anger, disgust and disappointment written on his face.

“You got a problem with my decision Harris?!”, the coach snapped at him.

He scoffed at him and says, “yeah I got a problem! A big fucking problem! I bust my ass to get the touchdown that wins the game and I don’t get so much as a thank you!”

Kailah watches as the coach gets all up in his face and he yells at him, “I’m not about to waste my time thanking someone who doesn’t even deserve to be on the team! You scored one measly touchdown and you think you’re an NFL star! You’re lucky I even let you play tonight!” Isaiah was livid and had every right to be.

“You know what?! Fuck this shit! I’m fucking gone!”, he said before storming off towards the locker room.

Kailah was both heartbroken and furious; not only with coach but with everyone else as well. Especially Jaylen and Brandi.

When she turned to go after him; Brandi called out to her, “Kai don’t even bother going after him! He’s just mad that my baby right here; is a better player than he’ll ever be.” She wanted to slap Brandi for saying something so cruel. But instead she decided to focus on Isaiah as she ran after him.

“Isaiah! Isaiah wait up! Wait for me!”, she called out to him just before he made to the tunnel.

When he turned around; she saw the anger, the frustration and especially the heartbreak blazing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”, she told him.

“Apparently what I deserve doesn’t fucking matter! Because I’m not golden boy over there! I don’t even know why I bothered getting on the field in the first place. Nothing I fucking do is good enough! No matter what it is!”, he sneered.

She could hear the pain in his voice. He was hurt.

“You’re wrong. What you do does matter. Because it matters to me. You earned that game ball! Fair and square! You won that game! And it’s not fair that you got treated that way!”, she said to him with tears of fury starting to blur her eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that? You’re the only person that cares about me or how I feel.”, he told her as his voice faintly cracked.

“Look I’m gonna go; before I break something.”, he told her.

“Will I see you tomorrow night?”, she asked.

“Maybe. Because I’m not sure that I want to celebrate anything. Not after what just happened.”, he said to her before disappearing into the tunnel. She shook her head, angrily wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

That’s when Jaylen jogged up to her. “There you are! We’re going to Finn’s to celebrate. You coming?”

“No. I’m not in the mood to celebrate. I’m just gonna go home.”, she said to him. Jaylen knew something was wrong.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”, he asked to her.

“You wanna know what’s wrong? Everything I just watched is what’s wrong! The way y’all were acting is what’s wrong!”, she snapped at him.

“That whole thing with the game ball? That’s why you’re upset?” He asks.

“Yes! If you must know. That’s exactly why I’m upset! Isaiah earned that ball! Fair and square! He won the game Jay! Not you! And instead of you telling coach that; you took that moment from him! And if isn’t bad enough; all of you stood there and let coach tear into him for protesting!”, she replies before turning away from him; to take a deep breath to calm her shaking from anger.

“Kai I don’t make the decisions! If that’s what coach decides; that what he’s decides. You know this.”, he tries to explain to her.

“That’s bullshit and you know it Jay! If that was any other player you would’ve made sure; that coach Pierce gave them that ball! No questions asked! But because it was Isaiah; you decided not to do that!”, she said to him. At this point; she even more upset than she was before.

“Kai—“, was all he managed to get out before she cut him off, “and another thing; the only other reason why you got that ball; is because Coach is extremely close to your dad! And we both know how your dad feels about Isaiah!”

Jaylen was stunned. He had never seen Kailah so upset before. Much less upset at him. “Look, I’m gonna go. Enjoy celebrating at Finn’s with everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”, she says to him before she walks off.

Although Jaylen was her whole heart; she couldn’t stop thinking about Isaiah. She wanted to hold him but she wasn’t sure that she’d ever be able to. Not after that night.

@txemrn @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations

Stay tuned for Part 2!

😘

#choices #choices fanfiction #pixelberry #choices stories you play #fanfic #khoicesbyk #my first two loves #choices mftl #mftl #pb mftl

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omgitsaddyc · 4 years ago

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35 for serenade pls my lovely... coz I'm feeling daddy AF >:)

HEY ELIZA this got really long and I’m not sorry. Turns out I really like writing these two very lovely ladies!!

Without further ado, here is Serenade and “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Cobblestone was nothing but lovely in the spring, and that was exactly why everyone had gathered to celebrate the turn of the equinox in El’s humble hometown. Him and Erik had settled in last fall, and now that the village was properly rebuilt, they were more than capable of handling the influx of tourists to not only see where the Luminary grew up, but also the colorful spring festival that they held every year at the turn of the season.

Shop fronts, porches, and gardens alike were bursting with gradients of yellows, blues, purples, and pinks, and the air smelled so sweet Serena wondered if there was something more than just the flowers contributing to it.

She was correct in her guessing when she came across the bakery. Gemma popped her head up from beneath the counter, flour smudged on her cheek.

“Oh, Ms. Serena! It’s so nice to see all of you back in town. You just missed Ms.-” She stopped, remembering that Jade had specifically asked to only be referred to by her first name. She may have been the crown princess of Heliodor, but around her friends she didn’t want to be anything more than how they’d all come to know her.

“You just missed Jade. She headed off towards the river, I think she was lookin’ for you!”

Serena’s cheeks colored the slightest bit. Jade was looking for her? Whatever for? She took another deep breath, savoring the heavenly smell from the bakery before thanking Gemma and bidding her farewell until the festivities were due to start later that afternoon.

She made her way down to the river, only getting mildly lost once from a wrong turn. Cobblestone was small, but the winding paths were still a little confusing to Serena. If El and Erik’s home wasn’t on top of a hill, she worried she’d have trouble finding it as easily as she usually did.

Gemma had been correct. Jade sat at the edge of the stream, a pastry in hand. She turned at the sound of Serena’s approaching footsteps, and the sweet smile she gave her set the butterflies in her chest aflutter.

She’s so strikingly gorgeous.

Serena’s eyes widened when she realized she’d totally missed what Jade had said to her.

“I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

Jade brought her free hand up to her mouth to hide her giggle. Was everything this woman did charming?

“No worries. Care to join me? I picked up your favorite.”

Serena sat beside her, careful to leave more than enough room between them. She took the slice of lemon cake and bowed her head shyly.

“Thank you so very much.”

She knew if her sister were nearby she’d make fun of how proper and shy she was acting. Jade was her friend! They’d traveled the world together with Eleven and the rest of their friends. There was no need for such formalities no matter how flustered she made her.

Jade sensed this, and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright? You look a little warm. The sun is a bit hotter than I’d expected today.”

What happened next was straight out of one of the dreams Serena swore she’d never tell anyone about. Jade unbuttoned her frilly blouse and untucked it from her long skirt. She pulled it over her head and tossed it to the ground as if it wasn’t finery. Next came her stockings (heeled boots already discarded by the shore before Serena arrived), and her hands stopped at the clasp on her skirt when she looked up at Serena with a grin unbefitting for a princess.

“What? It isn’t anything you haven’t seen before. How many streams have we bathed in while on the road?”

She wasn’t wrong. They’d made plenty of rivers and lakes their own personal bathing grounds while traveling, and Serena had seen more than her fair share of Jade’s perfect figure over the years because of it. She swallowed the lump of cake in her mouth and tried her best to avert her eyes as Jade waded into the water clad in only her undergarments.

Serena watched her float around in the water as she finished her treat, and looked back down to her lap again when Jade reemerged, water dripping from her skin in seemingly slow motion.

Soft laughter, then softer, wet hands held Serena’s face and tilted her chin upwards and into the view of a literal goddess.

“Don’t be shy, Serena. Why don’t you join me?”

Serena glanced around. They were alone, everyone else bustling around the village to prepare for the afternoon’s festival. They wouldn’t be bothered all the way down here. Jade had returned to the water and began to splash towards where Serena still sat, contemplating.

She slowly stood and moved her hair out of the way, reaching for the clasp at the nape of her neck. She looked back over to where Jade was waiting, her eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

“You heard me the first time, didn’t you? Take. It. Off.”

There weren’t many times that authoritative tone didn’t get Jade exactly what she wanted, and the same held true now. Serena slid the dress from her shoulders and loosened the sash at her waist to let it fall to the ground in a heap. She hurried to the water’s edge and waded in, looking behind her to make sure they were still alone.

Tanned arms found their way around Serena’s neck as they floated just inches apart.

“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Serena reflexively brushed a wet piece of Jade’s hair out of her face and behind her ear, and the look it earned her caught her breath in her throat.

“Could I kiss you?”

Serena blinked hard. She’d imagined that. Got water in her ear. There was no inconceivable way that she had heard what Jade had just said correctly.

“C-come again?” Her face shaded, and she contemplated just dunking her head under the water until Jade would have to rescue her.

When Jade gently held Serena’s chin in her hand, she realized she hadn’t misheard, and that her whole world was about to come crashing down.

She answered with a stroke of bravery, closing the distance herself. Somehow her lips were even softer than her skin, and although the contact was brief, it was still more than enough to set all of Serena’s nerves alight. Her hand grazed Jade’s cheek as she pulled back, and she couldn’t stop herself from babbling out the first thing that came to her mind.

“Goddess above, you’re lovely.”

A gentle laugh in reply. “I could say the same about you. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

Serena stifled a nervous giggle. “I’m afraid I don’t, but I’ve also wanted to for quite an embarrassingly long time.” She suddenly felt lighter, her hidden feelings finally out in the open after countless months of wishing and hoping.

And she never imagined they’d be returned.

Jade gave her one of her dazzling smiles and began to pull Serena back towards the shore. “Why don’t we go dry off before they come looking for us?”

The sun gently warmed their skin as they laid out in the grass, hands linked. It was quiet save for the birds chirping away in the trees until Jade found the courage to speak up.

“I’m not sure how long you planned on staying in the area, but I’d love to show you the castle gardens when you have the time. And perhaps a spear lesson, if you’re up for it.”

Serena turned to face her, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I planned on leaving at the end of the week, but I believe Arboria can manage another week without me.” Her chest shook with a gentle laugh.

“That sounds lovely, I’d be honored to join you.”

#Serenade #prompts #hi I love them I need to write moreeeee

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badchoicesposts · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 18

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar), Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season. Some of the dialogue was taken directly from Book 1 of The Royal Romance but was changed a bit to fit my fic.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @indiacater, @alexintheskyy, @jared2612

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

It was freezing out. December was in full swing and as the snow fell softly outside, Ali was glad to be in the safety of Drake and Liam’s apartment, trapped on the couch within a blanket burrito of her own making. Winter was her favorite season and there was nothing she loved more than being cuddled up under warm blankets while there was a slight chill in the air of the apartment. Drake had been scarce recently, and Ali had suspicions that he was seeing someone even if he refused to confirm it. Liam, however, was due back home from work any second, and she was eagerly awaiting his return.

As she was reaching for the remote to change the channel, the door opened and the man who was plaguing her thoughts walked in bundled up in a long, black, wool coat, and burgundy scarf in attempts to block out the cold, New York air. There was a slight sprinkling of snow covering his clothing, and as he saw Ali curled up on the couch, he was filled with both envy of her warmth and amusement at her ridiculous appearance. He quickly shrugged off his coat, pulled the blankets off of her and dropped down on top of her small frame. She jumped at the intrusion and hastily reached over his back to throw the blankets back over them.

“What are you doing?” she half-screamed, her body now shivering along with his.

“I was cold,” he said with a chuckle, resting his head on her chest.

Ali smiled down at him and relaxed as she felt the material of his suit jacket under her fingers. She loved the playful side of her boyfriend that not many got to see. However, not seconds later, she jumped again as Liam pushed her shirt up, gripping onto the warm skin of her sides with his cold hands.

“Your hands are freezing!” she said.

She squirmed underneath him in attempts to get away from him, but the weight of his body on top of hers kept her firmly in place.

“Stop touching me with your disgustingly cold fingers,” she whined, still trying to push him away.

“But, you’re so warm,” he spoke into the soft material of her shirt.

By now his hands were beginning to warm up, and although she wanted to be petty and continue to complain about his actions, her heart softened as he closed his eyes and attempted to wrap his arms around her. Ali moved her own hands up from his back and began to run her fingers gently through Liam’s blond hair, causing his body to melt closer into her.

“You’re so lucky that I love you,” she teased.

“I know.”

~~~

Ali pulled her covers up to her chin and stared out the window in her room from her spot on the bed. The sun had risen a few hours ago, and she knew that she should be getting ready for the second day of the Apple Blossom Festival, but she couldn’t seem to find the courage to get out of bed. Last night had been good. It was fun, and she genuinely enjoyed herself. But, for some reason, she broke down in tears as soon as her head hit the pillow. She was exhausted and scared, and having to come home to an empty room after being surrounded by people all day made her feel isolated.

A loud knock startled her, but instead of answering the door, she sunk further into her pillows and pulled her blankets tighter around her body. The knocking persisted, and when she still didn’t respond, the door opened.

“Why are you still in bed?” Bertrand asked, as he and Maxwell walked into the room.

Ali didn’t have a good answer for this. She didn’t know how to explain to them that she didn’t feel like she was strong enough to get out of bed. She didn’t know how to tell them that she felt like she was falling apart; that she knew someone was literally out to get her while she was pregnant with the future heir to the throne, and it was mentally exhausting. All she wanted in that moment was Liam. She wanted to run into his arms and have him tell her that everything was going to be okay, but she knew that once he found out about her pregnancy all hell would break loose. He couldn’t be strong for her right now. She needed to be strong for herself.

“I’m getting up now,” she said instead, throwing the blankets off of her body.

“The best dressed lady today will be crowned Apple Queen. The title itself is mostly just for show, but it is important in terms of impressing the people and gaining their favor,” Bertrand said, urging her to move faster.

He shoved a garment bag into her hand that she hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“What’s this?” she asked, placing it down onto the bed so she could unzip it.

“I was able to procure a historically accurate rendition of a Cordonian peasant’s best gown from the country’s most prestigious stage production company,” he said.

Ali pulled the blue and white dress off of the hanger and went into the bathroom to change. Bertrand wore a satisfied smile on his face when she emerged.

“You are guaranteed to become Apple Queen in this dress,” he said, as Ali fiddled with her hair.

“Are you ready?” Bertrand asked, giving her a once over, his eyes lingering on her face.

She nodded in response, and the three of them made their way out to the orchard.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but make sure not to pout in front of the cameras,” Bertrand whispered, looking back down at her face again.

The fact that Bertrand was still being his usual, pushy self was reassuring. It made her feel normal on the outside, even when her mind was bustling with chaos.

The air was buzzing with excitement when they stepped into the orchard, but Ali couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. The thought that someone was watching her was unsettling.

“Ready to show off your baking skills?” Hana asked, cheerfully.

Lizzie groaned from beside her. The dark-haired woman was wearing large sunglasses and was obviously hungover from drinking too much the previous night.

“Yeah, I am actually,” Ali said happily.

If there was one thing she was happy about, it was that her love for baking was finally being put to use. Although, it didn’t slip her mind that it was kind of ridiculous to be baking in the middle of the orchard.

“Good, because right now you need to focus on impressing the queen. Let everything else fall away and make House Beaumont proud,” Bertrand said from his spot next to her.

He and Maxwell excused themselves, and Madeleine sidled up next to her.

“Lady Alison, it’s so good to see you. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to join us in the festivities today,” she said in a sweet tone that Ali recognized as anything but nice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. You’ve just been looking a little… sick lately,” the other woman commented with a smirk.

“Have I?” Ali asked, wondering if Madeleine actually knew something or if she was just trying to intimidate her again.

“Yes, and I noticed that you left the festival quite early yesterday evening. I have to admit I’m beginning to wonder if the pressure of the season is starting to get to you.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I feel just fine, Madeleine,” Ali said, ending the conversation.

The pie baking competition was easy. She spent most of it taking orders from Olivia, but she felt no need to fight the duchess on this. Olivia seemed to know what she was doing and arguing would have only slowed the process down. It was the Apple Queen ceremony that had Ali completely flustered. She felt like she was suffocating while she stood with the other ladies as the crowd cheered them on.

“Lady Alison will be this year’s Apple Queen,” Regina said, pulling Ali out of her thoughts.

Ali wiped the surprised look off of her face and smiled at the crowd.

“Wooooo! Go, Ali. Party like it 1299! All hail the Apple Queen from the Big Apple!” Maxwell yelled from somewhere in the crowd.

Ali held back a laugh as she approached Regina for the “coronation”

“Queen Regina, it’s an honor. Thank you all for electing me to represent you as the Apple Queen,” she said, meeting Bertrand’s eyes through the group of people. “I’m happy to accept this esteemed position, and I will treat it with the utmost respect.”

He nodded proudly at her, a genuine smile on his face. She went through the rest of the ceremony with a new surge of confidence. She knew that if Bertrand, the most difficult person to impress, was proud of her, then she had done something right.

“As your final honor, you are entitled to a kiss, my queen,” Liam said, approaching her and kneeling before her.

Ali looked down at him, the adoration in his eyes evident, and her mood came crashing back down. Time seemed to stand still in that moment. The pride that she had been feeling just moments before had been replaced with a feeling of guilt for not telling him about the baby. The seriousness of their situation was once again brought to her attention and hearing him call her “my queen” brought up a negative emotion that she couldn’t quite place. It was a cross between longing and dread. Longing for the day he could officially call her that, but dread at the thought that everything would come crashing down and that day would never come.

She remembered all of the good times they had shared together: the two of them wrapped up in each other’s arms in bed, Liam mocking her for being afraid of a nonexistent ghost, their first “I love you”. Then the bad began to come forward: her crying for him at the airport as he got on a plane back to Cordonia, every night she couldn’t sleep without him the first few months after he left, the press cornering them the morning after the bachelor party and Liam dismissing her. A look of confusion passed over his face at her troubled expression, but she quickly wiped it away and forced on a smile.

“Prince Liam, I humbly accept your offer,” she said,

Liam rose to his feet and kissed her cheek gently, his hand squeezing hers in both a comforting and questioning manner. The crowd began to disperse as the Apple Queen ceremony came to an end, and Regina approached her, a diplomatic smile on her face.

“It’s time I head back to Applewood Manor, but please feel free to enjoy the festival as the reigning Apple Queen. Past queens have been popular at the apple bobbing contest.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The queen walked away, and Ali visibly relaxed.

“There’s our glorious Apple Queen,” Maxwell said happily, pushing past groups of people to get to her.

“I heard you out there. Thanks for cheering me on,” she said, punching his arm playfully.

“Well, somebody had to do it, but I’m actually here to tell you that Liam’s waiting for you in the manor’s conservatory. It’s across the estate.”

“Thanks, Max. I’ll head over there now. Hey, can you meet me later? There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she said.

She had made up her mind. Maxwell had been in her corner since day one, and she needed to tell him. He shot her a confused look, but nodded anyway.

The conservatory was beautiful. As Ali entered it, the smell of flowers and plants overtook her senses, and she stopped to breath it in for a second. It had a calming effect on her. The sun shone through the entire area through a glass ceiling, and it gave her an odd sense of being both outside and inside at the same time. She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe before walking further into the conservatory.

Liam was standing in front of a large fountain in the middle of the conservatory.

“Ali, thank you for meeting me,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in hers.

“You didn’t look fine in the orchard,” he persisted in a low voice.

“Really, I’m okay. It was all just a bit overwhelming.”

“The ceremony?”

Ali nodded in response but didn’t meet his eyes. Liam sighed softly, his concern clearly evident.

“I spoke to Drake,” Liam said, softly.

Ali’s head snapped up. Drake wouldn’t tell him about the baby. There was no way.

“He voiced a concern that the person who tipped off the press about your ‘relationship’ with him may try to hurt you again,” he said.

“And you agree with him?” she asked, quickly recovering.

“I have learned to trust Drake’s instincts. If he believes something is wrong then I know he has reason to.”

“I think it may have been Madeleine.”

“Why do you think that?” Liam asked, shocked.

“She said some things earlier. Maybe she was just being passive aggressive, but they didn’t sit well with me,” she said.

Liam nodded and pursed his lips in concentration.

“I’ll have someone look into it.”

Ali nodded and pointed in the direction of the door. She was trying to get out of their as quickly as possible, her discomfort and paranoia dictating her every move.

“We should probably head back,” she said, already turning to leave.

“Wait!” Liam said, causing her to turn back to him. “Are you sure everything’s okay. You still seem upset.”

Ali sighed. She knew that then would have been the perfect moment to tell him, but as she looked up at him, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“Can you hold me?” she whispered, finally breaking down and needing his arms around her.

Liam looked down at her and pulled her glasses gently off of her face. He placed them into his jacket pocket before pulling her into his arms. Ali buried her face in his chest and willed all of her anxieties away.

“What’s bothering you, my love?” Liam asked, his voice was gentle, soothing.

“I just… have a bad feeling,” she said, moving out of his arms and wiping away a stray tear. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. If there’s something causing this feeling you know you could tell me, right?” he asked, placing his hands on her arms to keep her from turning away from him.

“Of course, I know. There’s just… a lot going on,” she said, nervously fiddling with one of the buttons of his white shirt.

“You mean with the season?” he asked.

She nodded, and reached into his pocket to pull out her glasses.

“We really need to get back out there. Madeleine already noticed that I left the festival early yesterday. I’m sure other people have too,” she said.

Ali reached up and pulled Liam into a gentle kiss. It was slow and soft, and she tried to pour as much of her love into it as possible.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his lips.

“I love you too,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the conservatory.

They parted ways when they made it back to the orchard, and Ali took Regina’s advice and found the apple bobbing contest.

“Hey, are you going to participate?” Lizzie asked, her sunglasses now off as she chewed an apple.

“Yeah, Regina said that it’s pretty popular with Apple Queens, so I figured I might as well give it a shot,” she said, with a smile.

The crowd cheered enthusiastically as a little girl in a peach dress pulled her head from the bucket, a large apple clenched between her teeth.

“Lady Alison, would you like to go next?” the woman in charge of the booth asked.

“Yes, I would love to,” Ali said, tying her hair back.

She saw the press gather around them enthusiastically as she took off her glasses and handed them to Lizzie. Ali took a breath and picked out an apple before placing her head in the large basin. Her teeth closed around the Cordonian Ruby, and she once again fought back a gag as she raised her head, the press snapping pictures the entire time.

“Oh, these really are terrible,” Ali mumbled to Lizzie under her breath as she took her glasses back.

“I quite like them, actually. But, they’re definitely an acquired taste,” she responded as they linked arms and walked away from the booth.

After she decided that she had spent enough time at the festival, Ali left the orchard and made a beeline for her room, ready to lie down.

“You wanted to talk?” Maxwell asked, already waiting by her door for her.

“We should talk in here,” Drake said, opening the door to his room and nodding for them to come in before she had a chance to respond.

When Ali entered the room she was surprised to see both Bastien and Charlie waiting for them there.

“What’s going on?” she asked confused.

“Maxwell mentioned that you wanted to talk to him earlier, and I figured now would be a good time to tell you our plan,” Drake said.

“Why am I here?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, what did you need to talk to me about?” Maxwell piped up.

Ali was beginning to get overwhelmed. She had originally only planned on speaking to Maxwell, now she was standing in a room full of men, and she was being forced to talk about something intimate with them.

“Ali, why don’t you take a seat?” Bastien said, placing his hand on her elbow and leading her to a chair in the corner of the room.

Ali took a seat and looked up to Drake for reassurance. He simply nodded at her, and she took a breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

Maxwell and Charlie simultaneously dropped their jaws, and the former snapped his head back and forth between her and Drake.

“The two of you?” he asked, gesturing wildly between them.

It was Ali’s turn to drop her jaw in shock.

“No!” she said, grabbing the cushion that was behind her and throwing it at him.

It hit him square in the face, and Drake let out an amused chuckle.

“I’m sorry! You just looked over at him before you said it so I assumed,” Maxwell said, trying to defend himself.

“Ew! No! I looked over at him because Drake was the only one that knew. Or at least, I thought he was.”

“Hey!” Drake said, offended, “I know we’re just friends, but I wouldn’t say ‘ew’!”

“Really? You want to have this conversation now?” Ali asked sarcastically.

“I just think “ew” is a bit of an exaggeration,” Drake said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ali rolled her eyes and was going to respond when Maxwell spoke up instead.

“Liam doesn’t know?” he asked.

Ali looked down at her hands and picked at her fingernail. All of the energy she had from bickering with Drake now suddenly gone.

“Wait. What do you mean you thought Drake was the only one that knew?” Charlie asked.

“I got a tip off that someone was trying to sell pictures to the press of Drake buying a pregnancy test, and Ali throwing up after the Regatta,” Bastien began. “We assumed that the person following them that day is the same one who tipped off the press after the Derby. We don’t know for sure that whoever’s doing this is dangerous, but we need to be extra cautious now that she’s carrying the future heir to the throne. Charlie, you’re Ali’s new guard. I need you to stay close to her at all times and look out for anything suspicious.”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie responded, serious again.

“Ali, you need to tell Liam,” Bastien said softly, now turning to her.

She could see the sympathetic look in his eyes as he spoke. His demeanor now calm and reassuring instead of authoritative like it was before.

“I know,” she responded, nervously biting her lip again.

“Why haven’t you told him yet?” Maxwell asked cautiously, afraid of setting her off again.

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do. Constantine already doesn’t want me to become queen. How do you think he’s going to react when he hears that I’m pregnant?” she said, gripping tightly onto the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

She was getting increasingly agitated and uncomfortable at the situation she was currently in. The four men exchanged nervous looks, and this only served to irritate Ali even more.

“Don’t do that! If you have something to say then just say it!” she said angrily.

“You’re right. We don’t know what’s going to happen when everyone finds out, and it most likely won’t be good,” Bastien said, approaching her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But, Liam needs to know. He can help you through this.”

Ali visibly deflated.

“I know. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Look, none of us know what you’re going through, but we just want to help. Get some rest tonight. You can think about talking to him tomorrow,” Drake said, as everyone began walking to the door.

Ali nodded and got up from her chair as well, wishing she could just curl up and sleep through the next nine months.

#the royal romance #trr #the royal heir #trh #liam x mc #the royal romance fic #drake walker #trr fic #liam x mc fanfic #liam x mc fic #my fics #liam #king liam #choices #choices fics #playchoices #playchoices fics

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keeperoftheboys · 5 years ago

Text

Dangerous: Billy Hargrove X Henderson Sister

Story Summary: (Set in Season Two Episode 2). Billy is taken by Noelle Henderson, the smart, confident best friend to Nancy. When he sees her at Tina’s Halloween party that night. He knows he’s in for it.

Warnings: PG 13 (Crying, Mild Cursing, Drinking)

Story Type: One Shot

Requested: Nope :)

To be fair Billy had no idea Noelle Henderson was off limits. All he saw was the pretty girl with the wild hair from his math class walking home from school in tears. For a moment his cold heart warmed and he began to slow his car down next to her.

“Noelle Henderson, I need to chat with you after the bell rings. As for the rest of you, I expect you’ll spend the evening beginning the new chapter homework, and reviewing your test grades.” The bell rang and everybody bolted out of their seats leaving in their wake spare papers and a few pencils rolling across the floor.

“You wanted to speak with me, Mr. Avery?”

“Yes, It’s about your last test grade. There’s a reason I didn’t hand yours back with the rest of the class. You failed.”

“I what?”

“Noelle, It became clear to me that someone cheated off your test. You must know that we have a zero tolerance policy for cheating so you understand that I had to fail you.”

“Mr. Avery, are you kidding me, you do know I would never purposely let someone cheat off of me, right? I’m trying to get into Stanford and USC, I struggle enough in math as it is, it’s my one non-honors class. I can’t fail this test.”

“You also can't let people cheat.”

“I didn’t!”

“There’s nothing I can do. Here’s your test, just know I expected better of you.” Mr. Avery handed me my test, a large’ F’ was scribbled across the top of the page in bright red ink with a frowning face, as if I didn’t already feel bad. I had to leave the room quickly, hot tears welled in my eyes and my cheeks flushed. I quickly stopped at my locker grabbing my books before beginning my walk home. I had never received an ‘F’ before, not even in math but there it was, the page slowly becoming wet from my dramatic tears.

-- “What are you doing?” Max looked over at her brother who had slowed his car down to a near stop, something he hardly ever did, especially after having nearly just ran over the boys.

“Max get in the backseat.”

“No.”

Billy gave the girl a firm look “Max. Do it.” She grunted, tossing her skateboard and her backpack in the backseat before climbing back herself. Noelle was walking slow, something new to Billy. It seemed as if she always walked fast with a purpose, speeding from one class to the next.

“Noelle!” Billy rolled his window down and slowly drove next to her, she ignored him. In the backseat, Max did everything she could to hide her laughter. “Hey, Noelle!”

“What?” Noelle turned to the car, an annoyed glare appearing behind her tears.

“Why is such a pretty face like yours covered in tears? Did a boy to this to you? Was it your friend Steve?”

“Boys have nothing to do with my tears. Besides its none of your business.”

“Come on, get in, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You don’t know where I live.”

“You can tell me.”

“I have two legs for walking, thanks though.”

“Noelle.”

“Billy, how do you even know my name. I’m not exactly your type.”

“And what type is that?”

“Dangerous.” With that Noelle began walking faster.

Billy laughed, “Noelle Henderson, stop being stubborn and get in my damn car.”

~:~

I rolled my eyes and against all better judgment stopped to get into Billy Hargrove’s car. I figured I was having a bad day as it was so why not make it worse? Maybe I was a glutton for punishment.

As soon as I was seated Billy started with the questions. “Now, why are you crying.”

“I’m not.” He reached out to touch my cheek as if to use my tears as evidence, but I quickly slapped his hand away, “Careful, I bite.” That earned a giggle from the girl in the back seat. I turned to her and smiled, “Noelle.” I said sticking my hand out for a shake.

“Max.” She shook my hand.

“So you’ll introduce yourself to her but you won’t give me the time of day?”

“Us girls gotta stick together isn’t that right Max. Besides Billy, I’m in your car now aren't I?”

Billy rolled his eyes before putting his car in gear. “Where do you live?”

I gave him instructions and the car was silent for a moment. “Someone cheated off of me in math class and Mr. Avery gave me an F on the test for it. I’m trying to get into college and I can’t afford a low grade on a test. I need straight A’s and I already struggle in math I just don’t get it. Now someone fucked up my whole 10-year plan and I don’t know what to do. What if I don’t get into Stanford or USC what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to make it?” As I confessed this the tears started again.

Billy gently laughed, “You have a 10-year plan?”

“Yeah I have a fucking 10-year plan, do you think I want to stay in Indiana my whole life? I want to move to California. I want to run my own business, I want to make something of myself. Now I’m in your car crying my eyes out and making myself look like an ass.”

“You’re not making yourself look like an ass.”

We turned down my street and I instructed Billy to stop a few houses away from my own. I gathered my things and slid out of the car, angrily brushing the tears off my face. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You going to that party tonight?”

“Do I look like someone who goes to parties BIlly?”

“No. You look like someone who could use one though.”

I scoffed. “Gee, thanks.”

“Come on, if I see you there we can share a drink.”

“Okay Billy,” I rolled my eyes, “If I see you there we’ll share a drink.” With that, he started his Camaro and roared down the street. I had to admit, he was a little bit attractive, especially in that car. I walked the rest of the way to my house and tossed my backpack on the floor in the living room.

“Noelle! Nancy called for you! She wants you to call her back.” My mom was in the kitchen pouring a bag of candy into a large Halloween bowl holding mews at the same time. “She wants you to go to that Tina girl’s party! I think you should too!”

“What? Mom, you can’t be encouraging me to go to a party.”

“Sure honey, go have some fun! Dusty can’t have all the fun on Halloween.”

“Whatever mom.” I laughed leaving her in the kitchen to prep for the trick-or-treaters.

“I got your tire fixed while you were at school, get dressed up, go to that party and have some fun!”

“Alright fine! I’ll go!”

Once in my room, I decided on what to wear. Something different, something fun. I pulled nearly half of my clothes out of my closet before deciding on going with Sandy from the end of Grease, a classic. I pulled on a tight pair of leather pants, a black off-the-shoulder top, red heels and a big blet. Although Dusty and I had a close relationship we only shared our curly hair when it came to looks. I took after my father, standing taller and thinner than my mother and brother, I thought I made a pretty good Sandy and since it was the only costume I could throw together I figured it would have to work.

Dustin and I stopped for dinner together before I dropped him off to go trick-or-treating and made my way to the party. I parked down the block to conceal my car and refresh my lipstick before heading into the lion's den.

The party was loud, and in full swing when I arrived. My main objective was to find Nancy, when I did I regretted it immediately. She was already tipsy.

“Noelle!” You came! And you look hot!”

“I always look hot Nancy.” I laughed, hugging her and Steve. “I was told by several people today that I could ‘use a party’.”

“You can, you’re an uptight bitch.” Steve smirked.

“And you’re a bully.” I playfully bumped Steve’s arm before turning away from the duo. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m going to find a quiet corner to hide in.”

I made my way through the crowd saying hello to a few people and earning a “she actually came to a party from a few others.”

Finally, I found my way to the kitchen where I sat on a counter with a bowl of pretzels and a cup of ‘fuel’.

“Well, well, well. Noelle Henderson actually came to the party.” Billy sauntered up to me clearly buzzing. He stopped at my knees placing his hands on either side of my hips.

“Billy! What a surprise! I thought you’d be completely wasted already” I looked over his attire, taking notice of his bare chest and open jacket. “Nice costume.”

“I should tell you the same thing. Sandy huh? Is that because you're a good girl going bad?”

I rolled my eyes at his flirting. “Sure Billy, but only if you’ll be my Danny.” I hopped off the counter my chest touching his. “So you better shape up.” I winked at him before pushing his chest away. He caught my wrist in his hand smiling devilishly when my cheeks flushed.

“You owe me a drink good girl.”

“It looks like you’ve already had a lot to drink Mr. Keg King, and I’m already drinking.” I wagged my cup in his face, to be truthful I already had a buzz of my own.

“I’m perfectly fine, and you could use a shot.” With that, he grabbed a bottle off the counter and found two clean empty cups. “Here,” he said, pouring me a shot. “Drink up, good girl.”

I groaned taking the cup from him and tapping it against his own. “Cheers.” With that I downed the drink and smiled at Billy wiping my face with the back of my hand as ‘Crazy on You’ came on.

“That’s more like it.”

“So what, are you going to ask me to dance or not?” I was surprised by my own confidence. Billy grabbed my hand and pulled me to the living room where everyone was dancing.

“I thought you weren’t a bad girl?” Billy leaned forward to talk to me, whispering in my ear.

“Good girls can’t dance?”

“Not like that”

I shrugged and turned around slowly shaking my hips with a smirk on my face. “I’m full of surprises Billy.” He caught my hips with his hands and pulled me into him.

“You lied earlier today.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You lied when you said you weren't my type.”

“Oh, and what’s your type?”

“Dangerous.”

#stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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aimforthedogstar · 6 years ago

Note

Prompt for my boo! How about wolfstar accidentally marrying?

My Boo! This one is for you!!! I may have changed the prompt a little but I hope you like it!

Adorned in a black crop top with the ends of sleeves and collar lined with silver glitter, a grayish pair of denim which complimented his eyes, black nail polish and an array of rings adorning his fingers, Sirius Black was found in his kitchen at 4:00 pm on a Saturday evening cooking up a snack for his godson. The five-year-old was sat at the table with an assortment of crayons and plain sheets before him, intently focused on his brand new masterpiece which seemed more like a blob of earthly colors mixed together. The sight of Harry brought a deep sense of warmth in Sirius’ chest.

God, he loved that kid.

Ever since he first laid eyes on Harry, a small bundle nestled in a bluish-white soft cloth wrapped tight around him, Sirius knew he was gone. Which had been very surprising as he had always assumed he’d be someone who would not be comfortable with kids and neither the kids be comfortable with him. He had also decided long ago, he’d never be a father, comparing the shit his parents had dolled out on him, he figured he knew nothing of the responsibility and wouldn’t dare to mess the kid up. But watching Harry grow up, it had unlocked something in him. He’d never said it out loud to anyone, not even Remus, but he figured being part of the journey of watching a kid growing up was a thing of wonder. Especially at this age where Harry was a barrel of curiosity, questioning everything around him and to revisit the world, he knew all his life from a kid’s perspective brought a kind of joy to him that he didn’t know he was missing.

It was also a matter of great excitement in their little self-made family that the journey would blossom again now for another tiny individual with Lily nearly eight months pregnant. With the baby, James and Lily had taken a small vacation for the weekend and Harry was left in the care of Sirius and Remus.

Plating up the sandwich and fixing a glass of milk for Harry and tea for himself, Sirius set the items on the table and sat next to his godson. “Alright, little buck, time to go wash up.”

Harry who had already been trying to reach for the bread dropped his hands and made to go wash his hands. Harry was also at the age where he didn’t need ‘adult assistance’ to do things, he was a big boy now as he liked to remind everyone around him.

After having done so, the boy eagerly dug into his snack.

“Pa’foot, I have a question,” started Harry who had pulled onto Sirius’ left hand and was examining his rings as he ate.

“Hmm, and what’s that love?” responded Sirius.

“Why do you and Moony not wear rings like Mommy and Dad do?” inquired Harry in a genuine curiosity that only a child could be capable of.

“Because,” Sirius said, “Moony and I aren’t married.”

“Why?”

It wasn’t usual that Sirius had to deal with answering the tougher questions, it usually centered around treats and toys.

“Umm, well, Harry. It’s a little complicated to explain,” began Sirius.

“You and Moony love each other like Mommy and Dad do. And they’re married, why not you?” probed Harry further with the same innocent logic that was any young child’s trademark.

It struck Sirius how simple the world was in Harry’s perspective and trying to explain the more confusing aspects of it, that Sirius he himself as an adult failed to understand sometimes, was a lot harder than he thought.

“I do love Moony, Harry. And I want to marry him as well and give him a pretty ring, but I can’t” continued Sirius and his words fell short in his own ears.

“Do people give rings and marry?”

“Yes, people exchange rings in the ceremony.”

Pondering for a moment in deep thought which Sirius found mind-numbingly adorable, Harry jumped off his seat and ran to the grocery bags they had brought in after today’s shopping. Seeming to have found what he was looking for, Harry brought two items held close to his chest and presented it to Sirius with a grand flourish, “You can give Moony this and you can wear the other and you’ll be married!” exclaimed Harry.

Sirius looked closely at the objects dropped onto his palms to find that they were ring pops. Letting out an amused chuckle, Sirius said, “Love, that’s not how it works.”

Harry’s face fell immediately and it crushed Sirius a little. He had seemed so excited and proud a second ago, believing he had solved the issue surrounding the possibility of his marriage to Remus.

Unable to face the disappoint and deciding to play along, Sirius promised, “Okay. When Moony gets home, I’ll give him the ring. And we’ll do a little ceremony as well, what do you say?”

Harry’s brilliant smile was all the motivation Sirius needed.

They cleaned the room a little. The holiday season had just ended so the decorations were easily retrievable. Sirius and Harry even set up a few fairy lights around the living room of the flat. Harry was so excited with everything that Sirius took it a step further, moving the furniture a little out of the way, he and Harry made a fort which sort of resembled a chapel.

With that, Sirius decided to get started on dinner while Harry waited at the front facing window trying to catch sight of Remus coming home.

“He’s here,” screamed Harry as he ran into the kitchen. Grabbing at Sirius’ arms, he tugged, “come on!”

Unable to help the smile stretching his lips, Sirius cheered, “Okay, little buck, let’s do this!”

—–

As Remus made his way into his apartment, the sight that greeted him made him stop short, his coat halfway undone around his shoulders. The living room wasn’t the same as he had left it this morning. The furniture was askew, blankets covering the center which Remus assumed was a fort of some sort. Tiny lights glittered the walls and the house smelled like rose and sandalwood.

Sirius was on one knee at the entrance to the little fort, Harry jumping around him. He ran to Remus, grabbed his hands and dragged him in front of Sirius.

Bemusement coloring his tone, Remus asked, “What is happening?”

Grinning wide, Sirius commented, “My love, we’re getting married. Would you do me the honor of being my spouse by accepting this lovely ring?” With that, he produced a pillow from their couch, upon which sat two pieces of candy. Ring pops to be exact.

A small laugh escaping his lips, Remus shed his coat and scarf entirely and knelt beside Sirius. “What brought this on?”

“Well,” began Sirius, “Harry was wondering why we don’t wear rings as his parents do and when I tried explaining to him why we weren’t married, we somehow got off track and ended up here.”

“Moony, it was all my idea,” beamed Harry who seemed very proud of this.

Now mirroring Sirius’ wide grin, Remus answered, “It was a brilliant idea little one.” Turning his gaze to Sirius, Remus’ heart warmed and his chest felt like it was expanding and constricting all at the same time. Even after all this time, he still found himself caught off guard when Sirius looked him so full of passion, so full of love and devotion like he was at the moment. Even if this was just pretend, something that wouldn’t be a reality for either of them for quite some time or maybe never in their lifetimes, just the idea of fake marrying Sirius to appease their godson brought up a well of happiness and excitement.

Plucking one of the rings of the pillow, Remus vowed, “Well then, shall we, Mr. Black?”

“Yes we shall, Mr.Lupin!” gushed Sirius.

Harry came to stand between them like how an officiant would if this were real. “Put it on!” He urged.

Both laughed aloud at Harry’ enthusiasm. Sirius went first, placing the ring onto Remus’ ring finger, breaking out into chuckles when it wouldn’t budge past his knuckle.

“I never answered you,” began Remus with a somber tone that caused Sirius’ head to snap up at him, once again finding himself fixed by that intent stormy gaze. “I would love the honor of being your spouse for the rest of our lives, Sirius! I promise so with this,” he broke off checking the ring pop intently. Looking back into Sirius’ eyes, “With this bejeweled Cherry flavored ring in hopes that the rest of our lives will be filled with memories as sweet as this candy.” He placed the ring pop on Sirius’ fingers.

Sirius throat burned and his eyes prickled with happy tears. “I love you, Re!” He said as he dragged Remus’ lips onto his own ending the moment with a sweet kiss.

Breaking apart, Remus turned his attention to Harry, “It really was a very good idea, Harry. Thank you for this. Now I can’t wait to eat my ring.”

“No,” Harry protested, “you wear it forever.”

Standing up, Sirius began, “We don’t want ants.” Seeing the scowl on Harry’s face, he continued, “Don’t worry, Harry. One day, you and I will pick out a proper ring for Moony.” But as he said those words, his eyes never left Remus’ and he could see a promise hidden within them and hoped one day they’d get a chance to fulfill it.

#for my boo #💍💍💍#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #harry potter #au #everybodylives!au #my writing #my fic #fic #ficlet #this was fun #thank you for the prompt boo

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devinclaire · 5 years ago

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Cancer New Moon Solar Eclipse Horoscope

All Times Are Pacific Daylight Time

Cancer New Moon Solar Eclipse, Tuesday, July 2nd at 12:16 pm

Happy birthday season to you! This is going to be a big birthday year. No matter what age you’re turning when an Eclipse takes place in the same zodiac season as your birthday, prepare for things to change!

Fast forward to birthday season 2020 for a moment. You’re going to be a completely different person than you are currently. The process begins now. The best thing for you to do at this time is to embrace the change. The Eclipse energy is taking you with it whether you’re ready or not (hint: you’re ready even if you don’t feel like you’re ready).

There’s a very good chance that this change has something to do with the love department as Venus travels into your sign the day after the New Moon Solar Eclipse on Wednesday, July 3rd. You can’t beat the Sun, Moon, North Node, and Venus all in your sign at once. If love is coming into your life it will feel warm and comforting, like a fuzzy blanket that’s cozy yet decadent because it’s trimmed with faux fur (I like to keep it animal friendly with these horoscopes!).

If it’s not romantic love that you seek, still go toward that warm fuzzy feeling. It can still serve you well in matters of business and wealth.

Virgo Waxing Crescent Moon, Saturday, July 6th at 9:49 pm

This is a lovely Moon for planting details. Watch them grow into full functioning concepts by the end of your birthday Moon cycle. The more specific you can get the better.

Don’t be intimidated by the upcoming Mercury Retrograde. Mercury is Virgo’s cardinal planet. The more you honor Virgo with details and plans of how you will reach your desires, the more you appease Mercury and therefore ease the Retrograde energy. Sometimes when you’ve been struggling with something during a direct Mercury, the Mercury Retrograde energy is exactly what you need to find solutions.

Mercury Retrograde officially begins on Sunday, July 7th. Taking place in your House of worth and wealth. This is a prime time to reflect on things you feel obligated to do that don’t bring you joy- your job, family, and love life, perhaps? Things that currently don’t make you feel warm and fuzzy. What are the reasons behind this? What can you do differently to change these situations?

Mercury Retrograde is a great time to try on different versions of your own life and see how they fit. It’s especially opportune for you as your birthday season is a wonderful time for new beginnings.

No matter what your actual birth date during Cancer season make a wish on Monday, July 8th. Uranus blows Venus a kiss from your House of hopes and dreams creating a potent atmosphere for lovely things to happen.

Libra First Quarter Moon, Tuesday, July 9th at 3:55 am

Today the Moon floats through your favorite House of family and things that happen in the kitchen. It’s a nice day to bake yourself a birthday cake, just please don’t stop there, it’s also a day of destiny. The Sun is right next to the Node of Fate. You won’t have this energy again for another 19 years. Use it to your advantage. This has something to do with the reason why you came back to live this lifetime. If there was ever a moment to listen to your soul and walk in that direction, this is it!

Take note that this destiny may involve making a commitment to your partner. Don’t be surprised if you move in with a lover, or there’s a surprise proposal after your dinner date tonight. Congratulations!

However, you may want to keep quiet about it until the last day of the month when Mercury goes direct before you tell too many people. It will be like you’ve been proposed to twice which will satisfy the Retrograde energy.

You may also finally step away from someone who’s been too controlling of your life for too long. Keep in mind they may rear their fangs come Leo season next month, but by then you’ll be rested enough, having released their fangs from your neck, to take on this lion. You’re a gladiator with an exit strategy out of the Colosseum onto to a road of adventure of your own choosing.

Again, love is going deep on Wednesday, July 10th. This may be a night where you decide if you’re in, or you’re out of a torrid love affair. Is there depth to this affair, or is it just fire? This is a good time to do deep soul work either together, or apart, to eventually soulfully come together in August after Mercury Retrograde.

You’re switching to the theme of abundance on Thursday, July 11th. You may be struck with an anger from the way you’ve been treated in the past, and how this wounded your sense of self. You’re sick and tired of being sick and tired, and you’re willing to fight for a sense of self that makes you feel light. This also may come as a flash of money from a business deal, especially if you’ve recently presented to a group on something you enjoy.

Scorpio Waxing Gibbous Moon, Thursday, July 11 at 12:33 pm

Something to keep in mind- while others may see you as floaty and full of fun, you’re actually a person who enjoys deep conversations on the daily. Being that it’s Mercury Retrograde it’s a really good time to have a deep conversation with someone who usually avoids going deep. Perhaps an Aries or Libra you’ve been meaning to talk to?

On Sunday, July 14th you’re being asked to transform in the name of love. It’s tricky, your birthday season is about you, but with the energy in your sign versus the energy in Capricorn you’re finding that the ones you feel closet to make a big difference in who you are as a person. Go toward this new version of you where you incorporate the type of love, family relationships, and best friendships that feel transformative. Let go of the rest.

Capricorn Full Moon Lunar Eclipse, Tuesday, July 16th

A night to let go of those people and things you consider your enemies. While you can’t go out under the light of the Full Moon Lunar Eclipse and slay these people in the streets, you can let them wither in your mind.

Really focus on those who bring you love and joy rather than those who try and steal it away. Vicious attention seekers are so incapable of tending to their own souls their only respite is to nestle in the minds of others as squatters. When you focus your mind on things that bring you joy- friends gathering in a living room recently decorated with crystals, being in the kitchen making dinner for someone you love while they sip a beverage at the counter and tell you about their day, it leaves little to no space for the intruders.

Does this positive thinking sound like hard work? It is! The best things aren’t always easy. This is why you use the power of the Full Moon Lunar Eclipse to release the things that no longer suit you. The Eclipse energy adds an oomph that you don’t want to waste. The Moon is cheering for you to nurture yourself.

Dreams of a faraway place may be coming more into focus on Thursday, July 18th. Plan a trip that you can take at the end of January 2020. It would be an excellent time to go and see family for Chinese New Year, or go to get a deal on tickets as it’s after the December holiday rush and Martin Luther King Jr. weekend.

The next day, Friday, July 19th Mercury who is still Retrograde travels back into your sign. You may start spitting prophecy. Try and write it down for your own use, or speak it to those who you know will contemplate your words and put them into action in their own lives. This is also a good time for reflection for you.

How appropriate that on the last day of your birthday season on Sunday, July 21st, you’re invited to complete a spiritual transformation that’s been developing this entire year and only intensified this past month.

Think of yourself as the butterfly pushing out of the chrysalis. It may be scary to emerge as a new being in the world, but so most definitely worth it. We all want to bask in your beauty.

Pisces Waning Gibbous Moon, Monday, July 22nd at 1:34 am

The waning Moon encourages you to make a final birthday wish.

The Sun then travels away from your sign and into Leo. This isn’t a bad thing, all the inner work you’ve done is finally working as the Sun warms up your House of self-worth and abundance. You’re feeling better about becoming more and more of yourself.

The upcoming Leo New Moon is a great one for beginning a business venture, especially when it has something to do with your passions. If you’ve enjoyed the Mercury Retrograde energy, start it the day after the New Moon. If you’ve been less than thrilled with the Retrograde energy wait for few more days until you feel the energy cool down.

Taurus Last Quarter Moon, Wednesday, July 24th at 6:18 pm

It’s a nice day to cuddle up with a good friend, go out for a low-key birthday tea to spill the tea and get caught up. You’re feeling good about yourself and find that you can connect, get the dish, and still leave the meet-up with your integrity.

You’re expanding in some way in the workplace on Thursday, July 25th. It’s something that’s been overdue for some time now, and it’s finally coming to you during Mercury Retrograde. If you do get a “no” where you wanted a “yes”, try the question again in late September. The energies at play will have brewed for you to get what you desire at that time.

Gemini Waning Crescent Moon, Saturday, July 27th at 7:16 am

You’re feeling extra psychic, and definitely able to hear the thoughts of others today. You notice the duplicity of when they speak and what you know they’re thinking. The Moon floats through your sign and everyone’s feeling chatty. This might be a nice time to listen and get a sense of what’s on everyone’s mind.

Venus also dances toward the fire, entering Leo. If you were feeling abundant during your birthday season, watch out now! This is abundance mixed with passion. If this manifests quickly into your life, be grateful, if this is already your current state be grateful, if you’re hoping to use this energy to manifest hold how grateful you’ll feel for this abundance when it comes in, keep your heart steady and watch all this goodness fall into your lap. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

Keep this feeling fresh by stoking the flames often. Do your upcoming Leo New Moon ritual around this feeling of abundance. With the Retrograde energy it may surprise you in what form it appears to you. Just know that it’s coming.

#Horoscopes #Cancer Season #Solar Eclipse #New Moon Social Club #Cancer

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ghostbustermelanieking · 6 years ago

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praescitum chapter nine

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight

casefile, season 10, season 11. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

note: happy halloween! i actually started posting this story when i did to post this chapter on halloween, since it’s probably the most festive. but since i didn’t get as far in the story as i wanted to by this point, i’m going to kind of slow down my posting a little bit by waiting until i finish a later chapter to post the next one. i’m hoping to still be able to post at least one chapter a week, but idk if i’ll be able to keep up with that lol. those are the hopes!

warning for discussion of death in a (false!) historical context. i included fake historical people/historical battles in a real historical war.

---

nine.

october, 2016

If there's anything that Mulder and Scully are not used to, it's having a third presence on their stake outs. Back in the day, if they were staking out with someone else, said someone probably wasn't very happy about being stuck on a stakeout with them. (They've both heard plenty of “third wheel” gossip over the years, right along with the gossip about them being together long before they actually were.) Luckily, Scully notes, this time, they have what seems like a perfectly nice woman as their company. As much as she relishes the chance to have time alone with Mulder and inexplicably get paid for that time, it's better to share the time with someone who doesn't hate them. And Joy Seers seems like halfway decent company.

She gets takeout for everyone, fighting streets abuzz with Halloween traffic, cars and costumed pedestrians alike. She stops at a gas station and grabs a couple bags of M&M's as an added bonus for Mulder—in honor of the holiday, and because she's guessing they'll be here a while without much paranormal activity to entertain them. (She's still convinced that Ryan Caruthers, and maybe a few friends, are behind the whole thing. It makes much more sense than a diabolical ghost tormenting the entire town.)

Scully picks her way back to the school through streets crowded with pint-sized monsters, ghouls, and pop culture characters. Houses festooned in cobwebs and streamers and plastic skeletons. Kids in costumes holding onto their parent’s hands. At a stoplight near the school, she notices a kid on a bus bench. A familiar-looking kid with an Orioles cap pulled over his face.

She finds Mulder and Joy Seers in the classroom: Mulder setting desks and chairs upright, Joy propping a video camera up on the righted bookshelf. The room has been swept, most of the debris cleared; it looks like an empty skeleton of a room, bare walls and bare floors. “I brought food,” Scully says, sitting the plastic bags of containers on a desk.

“Thanks, Scully.” Mulder grins at her briefly overtop of a graffitied desk. She can tell he's enjoying this. He's probably been waiting for a case like this to fall on Halloween for a while. (“How do we always end up staking out haunted places on holidays, Scully?” he joked earlier, and she rolled her eyes, pointed out that this particular place is not haunted, absolutely not. Not the inn, not the school, not the town. She knows he's remembering their conversation last night, and she's hoping he won't bring it up. She feels silly just thinking about it.)

“Were the roads too bad?” Joy asks politely, squinting as she adjusts the angle of the camera. “I know they can be a little crazy on Halloween, especially in the fancier neighborhoods.”

“Not too bad,” says Scully, sitting at the desk. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing yet,” Mulder says, sitting down at the desk beside Scully and smirking a little at her. She smirks right back.

“I was relying on our security system to prove whether or not there's any paranormal involvement, but it shorted out today,” says Joy with a touch of irony in her voice, climbing down from the chair and smoothing messy curls absently. “Convenient, huh? Principal thinks someone messed with it to cover up the crime, but we couldn't prove it; it just seems like a system malfunction. And he couldn't get anyone in here to fix it. So I'm setting up a camera in here since this has been the primary location of the activity. I'm hoping to catch some proof as to what this is, if anything happens.”

“That seems smart,” Scully offers. “Although it's strange that the security cameras would mess directly after a break-in.”

“It is,” Joy says, crossing her arms, “but the fact is that it was still working last night. Since my window lock was fixed, anyone who broke in would've had to use the halls. And the cameras showed nothing.”

“Someone could've been planning another break-in for tonight,” Scully comments.

“That's true.” Joy shrugs. “But everyone I talk to says it's just an issue with the computer system. We have the shittiest system, I swear. Anyways, we have this camera to catch anything strange that happens, paranormal or B&E's alike.”

Scully looks at Mulder, who shrugs. It does seem convenient to her—too convenient, especially considering Ryan's technical reputation—but she decides to let it go. She says, “Do we have any sort of plan past the camera?”

Mulder shrugs again. “Not really. I think we're just planning to… sit here.” He smirks at her a little, teasing her as he unwrapping the plastic silverware. “You are familiar with the method of a stakeout, aren't you, Scully?”

“Very much so,” she says dryly, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue.

Joy joins them in the clusters of desks, taking her food gratefully and thanking Scully. “I'm hoping that we'll be able to get something out of tonight,” she says, screwing the cap off of a water bottle. “I really am. Ryan's a good kid, and I hate that everyone's been putting the blame on him.”

“You really don't think there’s any possibility Ryan is behind this?” Scully asks, picking at her salad.

Joy shakes her head. “I never have. Aside from the fact that it seems improbable that a kid—albeit a pretty smart kid, but still—could pull this off, Ryan's always seemed like a good kid to me. I'm not close to Annie Caruthers, but she's always spoken highly of him whenever we see each other… And besides that, he's a model student. Aside from a bad attitude, I haven't seen any signs of delinquency from him. I almost can't believe he really set that fire.”

Scully bites her lower lip in consideration. “I think I saw Ryan outside on my way in,” she says carefully. “The intersection a block over.”

“Really?” Mulder asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

Scully nods. “I think,” she says, somewhat uncertainly. “He wears the Orioles cap, right?”

Joy taps her fingers on the desktop absently. “Probably just a coincidence,” she offers.

“It's a small town,” says Mulder helpfully. Scully pokes at a leaf of lettuce silently.

Mulder clears his throat awkwardly. “Have you ever considered that this… activity might be the result of possession of some sort? Some mixture of Ryan Caruthers and the ghost?”

Scully swallows back the urge to scoff.

“You think Ryan's possessed?” Joy asks, almost incredulously. “By the Specter?”

He shrugs. “Possession can sometimes give humans a power they wouldn't normally have. I've seen it before. That would explain how Ryan was able to get in and out of the school without being detected, how he would be able to move those heavy desks.”

Joy Seers looks uncertain, skeptical. “I suppose that could be the case, but I doubt it,” she says. “I've never heard of any possessions in the history of the legend. And I still just don't think Ryan's involved. Besides his prior history with the ghost, of course.”

Scully hmms in response quietly, sticking the fork in her mouth. She hasn't known what to make of this case since they got it a year ago, and she certainly doesn't know what to make of it now. Mulder shrugs, surprisingly nonplussed, as if he doesn't know what to make of this either.

“I guess we just wait now,” Joy says, and it's almost a question, a clarification. “Wait to see what happens next.”

They nod, nearly in unison.

Their forks scrape at the Styrofoam containers in the new quiet. The setting doesn't seem to align with the stunning silence all around them, the echoey hallways and dim classroom. As a child, Scully used to get scared in big empty buildings, especially in the huge church they used to attend in San Diego, all the looming, empty halls and the almost eerie paintings of Christ. She's gotten past that now, of course, but the oddness of being in an empty school has nearly brought it back. Right now, in all this empty and quiet space, with the small sounds in the hall as the sun sinks below the horizon, she can almost understand why people might think this school—even this town—is haunted.

---

It's getting dark now, the familiar October chill in the air. Ryan clenches his chattering teeth, beginning to regret not wearing the skeleton costume from last year. It's dorky as hell, but it's warm, he sweated buckets at last year's party. And it helps with appearances. He's just wearing a hoodie and jeans right now, no costume of any kind.

He got some candy earlier, even with the disapproving looks (either because he's too old to trick-or-treat, or because he set a fire), and so he unwraps a mini Snickers bar now and takes a bite. He's thinking about turning around and going to the party he told Annie he was going to. He should probably go to the damn party. He still has friends somehow, despite everything, and this is not the right way to spend Halloween. It might be spooky, but honestly, Ryan got tired of the horror movie bullshit at about six or seven. (He hates scary movies, scary stories, any of that stuff that makes him think about the empty eyes of the parents he'll never know and ghostly light on his bedroom walls.) He's nearly convinced, gets his bag up off of the bench and is about to walk away when his fingers brush over an envelope sticking out of the top. The letter from his Uncle Jared.

He swallows, sits down so hard his legs hurt. Shakes his head hard until he's good and resigned. He has to do this. He doesn't have a choice.

He rummages in his bag until he finds the stick-on tattoos and the bottle of water. Follows the directions as he applies them to the back of his hands.

---

Scully will admit, once again, that she's really, really not used to sharing stakeouts with other people; some of her favorite memories of working with Mulder are when they were alone on a stakeout. But they've been sitting in the school for several hours, and she has to say, it's a lot better than she expected. Aside from their opinions on ghosts, it turns out that she and Joy Seers have a lot in common. They discuss their college degrees—biology and pre-med are vastly different, but they took similar grueling science classes and can exchange stories about hellish professors—and Joy asks about the cross around Scully's neck, the one similar to her own. “Oh,” says Scully in surprise, reaching down to touch the cross, and the ring that hangs beside it. (Thank God she didn't ask about that; that'd be a fairly awkward conversation for all of them. Mulder doesn't wear his ring that she knows of, which she has no idea how to take, but at least it fields the Oh, are you two married? questions. A little.) “Oh, my mother gave my sister and myself these necklaces the Christmas I was fifteen. I've worn it ever since.”

She leaves out the occasions where she'd given it to her daughter and it was the only part of her They left behind, and when Mulder had worn it through both of their abductions. (She put the ring on the chain beside her cross when she stopped wearing it because it felt stunningly appropriate, that it lie beside something that had meant so much to both of them over the years. Sometimes she felt like she could feel Mulder in her cross as much as she could in the ring.)

Joy smiles a genuine smile. “Oh, that's wonderful,” she says. “Mine was a family heirloom. It was my grandmother's.”

Scully smiles back, a little easier than she might've a few months ago. It's getting easier to remember her mother, and concentrating on the happier memories does help. “It's beautiful,” she offers.

“Thank you—so is yours.”

Mulder stays politely quiet through most of these interactions, but he speaks up sometime in the fourth hour of their vigil. “Ms. Seers—” he starts.

“Call me Joy, please,” Joy says immediately.

“Joy,” Mulder says. “I remember when we met yesterday, you said something about there being more than one way to interpret the Willoughby Specter story.”

“Oh, right.” Joy throws out an absent grin. “That famous touchy spot. Especially around here.”

“I sense that people don't agree with you?” Scully asks, thinking of Robbie O'Connell's and the sheriff's claims that the ghost is angelic. Ryan Caruthers's claims that the ghost is anything but. The disdain she's seen in response to that skepticism. Personally, she can't really tell why the demeanor of the ghost matters, one way or another.

“I don't know if they do or don't. I haven't made any particular claims about the skepticism.” The other woman shrugs. “My husband is a historian, though,” she adds. “He's done some research into the subject, and we've discussed it before. The origins of this ghost aren't quite as black and white as everyone would like to believe.”

Mulder's interest is piqued—more than piqued, Scully can tell. “Would you mind sharing?” he asks.

Joy shakes her head. “The fame of the ghost just so happens to be intertwined with the origin of this town,” she says. “The name Willoughby comes from a Revolutionary War leader, General Samuel Willoughby. He's hailed as a hero, especially around here, considering he led his soldiers to victory in a battle right around this area. The legend got started when Willoughby published a book of his journals and letters during the war. In the journal entry dated the night before the battle, he speaks of seeing a 'specter’ who brought about feelings of foreboding and dread. This convinced him that he was doomed to die on the battlefield the next day, and his soldiers doomed to lose. So he changed his plans.”

“He survived the battle,” Scully says knowingly—she knows how these legends always go. “And he led his men to victory, and people attributed that victory to the Specter. Which is where the legend originates."

Joy nods. “But what most people don't acknowledge is how costly that victory was,” she says. “Over half of Willoughby's soldiers lost their lives, including his brother. As well as several civilians who unfortunately lived in the area and got caught up in the battle. And that's not to mention the British casualties. Personally, that's not my definition of angelic, especially considering the death of his brother.”

Mulder chuckles briefly, rubbing thoughtfully at his mouth. “It's not exactly mine, either.”

“People see what they want to see,” says Joy. “Someone comes to warn them of something bad coming, people want to think they have good intentions. That there's some way to be prepared.”

Scully hardens her face until it is stony, trying not to show her cards. Spreads her fingers out flat on the table and tries to think of anything but that night before her mother died. Mulder is nodding in agreement, and she's glad that he's distracted by this story, that he won't notice and start asking questions again. “So you don't think the ghost has… good intentions?” he asks Joy.

“Does a ghost have intentions?” Joy laughs. (Along the same line Scully has thought on in this case.) “But no, I don't. Personally, my husband and I have discussed it before, and we think that the ghost is demonic.”

“Demonic?” asks Mulder.

“Yeah. My husband has studied a lot of local history, and he found a court record corresponding to a diary entry from the judge in the early settlement that more or less became Willoughby. It speaks of a man who was convicted of the murder of his wife. He was scheduled to hang, but he disappeared from his prison cell the night before, despite two guards being posted outside. The man had been fairly wealthy and prosperous, and he had a fair amount of money stored away in his house, where they'd also found many signs of what they considered witchcraft and devil worship. All the more reason to execute him, they'd said. But after he disappeared, so did the money.” Joy takes a sip of her water bottle. “They found him two months later, dead in the mountains with no clear cause. All of his money on him. A lantern burning beside his body despite the snowstorm raging around him.”

Scully raises her eyebrows in a halfway interested response—it’s an interesting story, even if it sounds false. Mulder says, “And you think that's the Specter?”

“A ghost has to come from somewhere, right? It makes sense to me, especially that lantern detail. The details about his escape and discovery, as well as the trial records, lead me to believe this man had made a deal with the devil, for lack of a better term. And this is more or less his due he has to pay: bringing bad luck to the inhabitants of Willoughby.”

Mulder hmms under his breath. “That's a great theory,” he says. “And it makes a lot of sense, at least in my mind. It would be consistent with Ryan Caruthers's claims.”

“There’s discussion of 'the local devil worshipper’ in local folklore, but it's not as widespread. And since it took place a full century before, no one in the town ever connected the story with the Specter. But I've always thought it made a lot of sense,” says Joy. “And with everything that's happened here at this school, I've got to say, it makes even more sense to me now.”

“What do you think, Scully?” Mulder asks, and his hand is suddenly on her arm. He's noticed how silent she's been.

Scully grits her teeth and shakes off the thoughts of her mother and her cross and that fucking hallucination or dream or whatever she had before her mother passed away. Forces a smile. “I suppose it could be plausible…” she says, “... if ghosts were real.”

Mulder scoffs jokingly. “I can understand your skepticism, Agent Scully,” Joy says kindly. “Even i—”

They're cut off by the sound of distant crashes, somewhere in the building.

Scully's eyes dart to Mulder. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” he says, already standing. “Joy, do you have any idea…”

“I'm really not sure,” she says. “Maybe the cafeteria?”

More crashes, louder this time. “Split up, clear the halls?” Mulder asks, and Scully nods.

“Joy, you stay here, okay?” she says, standing and reaching for her gun, just in case. “Keep an eye out, call us if you need help.”

Thankfully, Joy doesn't argue; she just nods. “Do you really think you need that?” she asks, gesturing to the gun with her chin.

“Hopefully, no,” Scully says. “But it's a good precaution. In case whoever—or whatever—is destroying your classroom is dangerous.”

---

Mulder and Scully split up outside of Joy Seers's classroom; she goes through the west wing, and he goes through the east. The school is stunningly dark, the halls admittedly eerie, and Mulder is inadvertently reminded of the case years ago that he can barely remember the details of outside of the fact that a satanist PTA tried to kill him and Scully in a high school gym shower. He shudders involuntarily; that doesn't seem like a good line of thought after discussing a ghostly devil worshipper.

He's most of the way down the hall when he hears it: the creaking of a door hinge behind him. He whirls around to see the door of an English classroom hanging open in the circle of his flashlight.

Immediately, he sweeps his flashlight up and down the hallway, but it's completely empty.

Mulder swallows roughly, ignoring the chill spreading over him. He starts to turn back around when the door slams closed hard. He jumps, his hand flying to his holster automatically. Still nothing there; no signs of life, or things notably not alive.

“Hello?” he calls out, sweeping his flashlight up and down the hallway, feeling equal parts silly and determined. He's about to make some plea for the ghost to show itself when he hears another slamming sound, almost smaller than the last one. And then another, and another. The lockers lining the hallways are opening and closing, their slams cacophonous and engulfing. Mulder scans the hallway in frantic confusion, looking for any signs of the Specter, not sure if he really wants to see it or not, considering its legacy. But he still finds nothing, invisible hands moving the lockers as they slam, the cabinets shaking and rattling in place as if affected by an earthquake. Fascinated, Mulder stares, not wanting to look away, wanting to call Scully to get in here and see this. But before he can do anything, his flashlight flickers once, twice, and dies in his palm.

The lockers’ motion fades out as Mulder's breathing grows more erratic, maybe even fearful. The hallway seems darker without the flashlight, pitch black. He smacks the flashlight against his palm in an effort to get it working again, to no avail. “Shit,” he mutters, dropping the flashlight to his side and rubbing at his temples with his free hand.

And then from behind, he hears the scritching sound of a lit match. Golden firelight, small but unquestionably the brightest thing in the room, comes to life behind him, reflected on the metal lockers.

His heart in his stomach, Mulder whirls. He sees it almost immediately, it's unmistakable. He can't make out a face, but he doesn’t have to. It matches every description he's ever heard.

The Specter stands at the end of the hall, lantern held up like some kind of lamplighter.

Mulder's breathing is shallow, erratic; where the hell is Scully when stuff like this happens? He's dying to take a picture, but he knows that will likely only cause problems.

Instead, he draws closer, flashlight dead and useless in his hand, heart thudding against his ribs. The Specter doesn't move. He seems to be surveying Mulder, sizing him up, but somehow, Mulder can't allow himself to worry about that. He goes closer and closer, carefully, as if trying to calm a stray dog. “I know what you are,” he calls. “I know what it is you do.”

The Specter seems unaffected by this. He stands still, his face shadowed, his lantern flickering.

“Do you speak?” Mulder asks, thinking of the ghosts in that haunted house that one Christmas Eve. (If that was real; he and Scully have disagreed about it forever.) “What do you want?”

The ghost remains silent. Mulder's shoes creak on the tile floor as he steps closer, his palms sweaty around the flashlight. The Specter seems to be regarding him, considering.

When Mulder is about three feet away, the ghost's mouth contorts, dipping into a frown. Disapproval. A sudden fear plunges through Mulder's chest, nervousness—what does disapproval mean?—as he remembers Joy Seers's theory that the ghost is demonic. He is about to ask, again, what the Specter wants, when the lantern flickers out.

In a completely impulsive move, Mulder stumbles forward, absurdly swiping at the space where the Specter is. He feels nothing, and he doesn't know if it has disappeared or is still there. Breathing hard, he stands awkwardly in place, his hand curled around the useless flashlight.

And then he hears a pained yelp, down the hall the way he came from.

---

Scully is in the ninth grade wing when she hears it again: the crashing sounds down the hall to the right of her. She follows the sound, flashlight held out in front of her and gun held down by her side. There's a sound almost like banging, a clattery sound like something being dragged over the floor. Scully comes face to face with the double cafeteria doors, where the sound is louder, and pushes it open with a loud clang.

There's a startled shout, and then the smack of a body hitting the floor. Rounding the table blocking the body from view, Scully shouts, “Freeze, FBI!” completely on instinct.

“Shit!” The kid—Ryan Caruthers, Scully notes with an emotion somewhere between satisfaction and disappointed—scrambles to his feet, his ankle caught in a cafeteria chair. His face turns up towards Scully, full of regret and panic as he curses quietly under his breath: “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Scully puts away her gun with a sigh—somehow, she doubts she needs it. “Ryan?” she says, somewhat sternly. “Ryan Caruthers?”

“I had no idea you'd be here,” Ryan says miserably, untangling himself from the chair.

“So you wouldn't have come if you'd known?” Scully asks. He doesn't answer, just rubs at his face with the heel of his hand. “No one's ever been here when you've done this before, right?” she prods.

“I haven't done this before,” Ryan snaps, glaring at her. “I know what you think of me—believe me, I know what everyone thinks of me—but I swear to shit, this is the first time.”

“How did you get in?” Scully asks, still firm. “The window in Mrs. Seers's room is fixed.” She remembers in a split second, as Ryan answers, that the window was fixed before the destruction of the classroom the night before, and mentally curses.

“I jimmied open another window,” Ryan says, sounding disgusted. “The windows in here are shit, the locks are awful… And I'm telling you, I've never done this before.”

“Then why did you come here tonight, Ryan?” Scully fixes the kid with the sternest look she can muster up. “Knowing that people believed you had broken in before?”

Ryan's face turns red, and he ducks his head. His hand shoots through the air as he reaches down to untangle himself from the chair, and Scully sees the same cross tattoo on the back that she remembers from last year. “I… was worried about what was going to happen,” he nearly mumbles. “Because of the ghost. I thought something bad might happen to someone, and I wanted to come here and try to stop it.”

Scully's stern demeanor falls, just a little. She doesn't know why, but it does. She asks gently (not too gently, of course—only a bit more gently), “How did you think you could stop it, Ryan? What did you think was going to happen?”

“Does it matter?” Ryan snaps venomously. “Aren't you going to arrest me now? Agent Sully, or whatever your name is?”

“It's Scully,” she says automatically, and is ready to say more, when she hears a distinctly female shout from somewhere in the building. Joy, she thinks immediately, and mentally curses herself and Mulder for leaving a civilian alone in a potential crime scene. Even if she doesn't believe in the ghost.

Ryan jumps at the sound, startled. “What was that?”

Hoping briefly that Mulder will get there sooner, that Mulder is okay, Scully says, “You know what, Ryan? I should take you in, but this is all very juvenile, and Mrs. Seers has vouched for you multiple times. So I'm going to look the other way.”

The kid looks stunned. Beyond stunned. He says, “Are you serious? Why are you doing this?”

She doesn't know why, she really doesn't. Outside of the face that is stuck at the back of her brain, along with pain and death and visions of the end of the world. Her son out there, somewhere, and she shouldn't let it affect her work, but… She says, “Look, I need to go. If you're still back here when I come back, I'm taking you in. If I ever catch you doing something like this again, my first call will be to Sheriff O'Connell. Do you understand?”

His face white, Ryan nods. Unwilling to wait any longer—unwilling to linger or analyze why the hell she did that, she really can't believe it—Scully turns and heads the other way, back to Joy Seers's classroom.

Inside, she finds all the fluorescent lights flipped on, Joy sitting in a chair heaving air like she is going to run out and Mulder crouched on the floor. Scully runs straight to her side. “Are you okay?” she asks, kneeling to examine the prominent red line on Joy's neck. “I'm a doctor, I can help you.”

Joy waves her off absently. “I'm okay, I'm okay,” she says, her voice only a little rough. “My necklace… it was being tugged, by I don't know what. It was choking me, and then it just broke.”

Mulder stands, the broken silver chain in the palm of his hand. “I saw it,” he says, and his voice is filled with some panicked emotion that Scully can't quite place. “It was being pulled by an invisible force, Scully, she was choking and it was just held up in the air. By nothing. And then it just snapped.”

Joy takes the necklace, muttering, “Damn,” under her breath. She rubs at her forehead, her eyes, in a tired sort of way. “I'm okay,” she reassures Scully again. “Scared me more than anything. I guess I have my proof now that the Specter is hostile.”

She laughs briefly, but Mulder doesn't, and Scully doesn't know how to ask why. She stands up a little reluctantly—she’d have preferred to check Joy a little more, but she really does seem fine, she's waving her off insistently—and dusts her palms off on her pant legs. “Deep breaths,” she says gently. “Try to stay calm.”

Joy clears her throat a few times, rubbing her neck with her empty hand. “So did you find anything, Agent Scully?” she asks raspily. “I heard more sounds in the cafeteria.”

Mulder looks at her curiously, but Scully doesn't know how to tell them what she saw, much less explain what could've convinced her to let Ryan go. She lies, “I think some furniture may have fallen over. I didn't see anything.”

---

They leave the school after that. There doesn't seem to be much point in staying. They have the video in the classroom, and therefore proof. Joy seems spooked by the whole encounter, seems to have lost interest in all of it—she thanks them profusely in the parking lot, but says that she doesn't see any need for them to stay if they don't want to. “I guess I can call you if anything else happens,” she says, “but I don't know if there's anything else you can do. And I'm sure you have more important work to get back to.”

Mulder doesn't bother telling her that they probably don't—he’s almost sure that Scully shares Joy's opinion, that the lack of an actual crime here doesn't justify their position. They shake Joy's hand and get in their car to head back to the hotel.

They're both quiet on the drive. Mulder can't get past what happened in the hallway, his encounter with the Specter. At the time, he'd mostly been fascinated, caught up in the excitement of seeing an actual ghost, but now, all he can think of is the other part of the legend. The part that promises that something bad will happen if you see the Specter. He drives back to the hotel with a precise carefulness that Scully doesn't seem to notice—she seems as lost in her own thoughts as him, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. He keeps sneaking glances at her, as if something is going to steal her away, because by his count, the only two people besides him who could be affected by the Willoughby Specter and his bad omens are Scully and William. He doesn't relax until they get back to the hotel, and even then, it is a cautious relaxation. He's extraordinarily glad that they are sharing a room.

He waits until they get up to the room to say it. He nearly blurts it out—he says, “Scully, I saw it,” and it feels like an exhale.

Scully, in the act of peeling her coat off, freezes. He can see the muscles of her back, can tell how tense she has suddenly gotten. “What?” she says.

“The Specter,” he says. “I saw the Specter, Scully, in the halls. It disappeared just before something pulled at Joy's necklace.”

Scully isn't looking at him. She drapes her coat over the back of the chair, her knuckles nearly white as she clutches it. “It's not that I… don't trust what you saw, Mulder,” she says carefully, her nails scuffing the side of the jacket. “But… are you sure that's what you saw? That it couldn't have been some kind of… projection?”

Twenty-odd years ago, this skepticism would've driven him mad. Now, he pretty much expects it. But it feels like there's something different here, some unusual emotion. The familiar stubbornness, and then something else layered under it. Almost fear. He wonders if it is because of the legend, the implication that something bad will happen to him. He swallows, reaches out and brushes a slow hand over the small of her back as if trying to offer comfort. “I really think it was,” he says. “It couldn't have been a projection, it was too… It couldn't have been.” She's still not looking at him. He flattens his palm against her back, rubs a circle with his thumb. “I don't know what that means, Scully,” he says softly. “Whether or not it's…”

“It probably means nothing, Mulder,” Scully says immediately. She finally turns towards him, and her expression is guarded, but she reaches out and squeezes his arm. “It'll be fine,” she says softly, firmly. Leans forward and kisses his cheek. “I'm going to take a shower, okay?” When she draws back, she won't meet his eyes. He watches her go into the bathroom, until the door closes behind her.

He showers next, tries to shed the thought of more misfortune, but he can’t quite shake the thought of it. After everything they've been through, he can't imagine going through more, even if it is a bit inevitable at this point. He doesn't know if he could bear it. Especially if whatever misfortune the Specter brings involves losing his wife or son. (He is praying it's something trivial, like a flat tire, or someone breaking into his house.)

When he exits the bedroom, Scully is lying in bed on her side, facing the wall. He climbs in behind her, touches her shoulder gently and briefly before settling in. He's ready to fall asleep and try and forget the whole thing, give Scully her space, but she rolls over first, rolls towards him until they're facing each other. “Ryan was in the school,” she says. “In the cafeteria. All that crashing around was probably just from him breaking in.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Seriously? What happened, did he get away?”

“No.” She bites her lower lip, looking away from him. “Sort of. I… I decided to give him a warning.”

His expression shifts to confusion. “A warning?”

“Yes.” She is almost squirming, avoiding his eyes. “I… I don't know why. It just all seems so silly, the whole thing. And he insisted that this was the first time he had broken in. But I told him if I ever caught him doing that again, I'd call the police without hesitation.” She rubs at her forehead with embarrassment, her voice full of shame. “The security system was out, though. We hopefully don't have to worry about it ever getting back to Skinner.”

“Do you believe him?” Mulder asks, astonished and trying like hell not to show it. He's more surprised than angry, it doesn't really matter to him, but he can tell how foolish Scully feels and he hardly wants to make that worse. “That it was his first time?”

Scully rubs her forehead again, presses her palm over her eyes. “I honestly don't know, Mulder. I really do think that he's involved in this… it makes the most sense. I don't know how or why, but I hope he gets his act together. I… I hope that I've made this better instead of worse.”

“I definitely think Ryan has something to do with this,” says Mulder quietly, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, “but I don't think it's the same way that you think so. I think he's a… catalyst of sorts. I think he has a connection to this ghost, and I can't put my finger on it. But I think Joy Seers was right. I think there's more to the legend than people take at face value. And I don't think that Ryan was responsible for what was happening in that school.”

Scully yawns, burrowing down into the covers. “Whether there is or there isn't, it doesn't really matter, does it?” she mumbles, sounding like she wants to drop the subject. “We're going home in the morning. I just hope that no one finds out what happened.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly, and reaches over to turn out the light. They settle in next to each other in the dark, their arms pressed together, hands side by side. Mulder swallows, bumping his finger against hers absently. The adrenaline of the night hasn't completely left him, the implications of his encounter in the hall, and he's grateful that she is close by. As if that can prevent everything bad from happening.

“Do you think I made the wrong decision?” Scully asks softly, and that shame is still in her voice. “To let Ryan go instead of taking him in?”

“No, I don't,” he tells her honestly, covering her hand gently with his. “I think that isn't nearly the worst thing we've gotten away with on the job.” She chuckles at that, and he grins. “I don't see why anyone ever has to know about it,” he adds. “The cameras are out, and I'm not planning to tell anyone. And I'm sure Ryan will keep it to himself. You may have given that kid another chance that he'll take.”

“Mmm,” Scully says, and he can tell by her voice that she is tired. “It feels so convenient, the cameras. Especially considering how much I asked about them earlier. Mulder, I bet Ryan either knew about the system being down or took it down himself, if this really was the first time he'd broken in.”

“Hmm,” he says softly. “Maybe.”

“I guess I just didn't think he was dangerous,” she whispers. “I feel so foolish. I feel like I haven't done my duty as an FBI agent. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“You don't have to know,” he says, and he intertwines his fingers with hers. “You don't.”

She makes a small sound that indicated she disagrees with him, but she doesn't argue. Their elbows bump together companionably. Her palm is cool under his. They fall into quiet again, hands clasped together under the sheets.

Mulder matches his breathing to hers, calm, and he is nearly asleep when he hears a low whistling sound, akin to a moan. The shutters of the windows rattle.

A sudden panic shoots through him at the noise. “Scully, did you hear that?” he whispers.

“It's the wind,” she says, her voice sleepy but hard. “Just the wind, Mulder.”

The wind howls against the glass again and Mulder shivers, crawling closer to Scully. “You sure?” he asks, and she nods, almost growly in her delivery. Scully does not fuck around when she is tired, and he senses she's already in a bad mood from the Ryan Caruthers thing.

But the sound is too human, too eerie, and Mulder can't ignore it. He never thought he'd be this much in regret because of a supernatural encounter, but this is the kind of thing that is too hard to let go. He's as embarrassed as Scully about tonight—embarrassed about how badly he wanted to see the ghost, and embarrassed (and fearful) of the repercussions it will bring.

He drops a light, impulsive kiss on Scully's hair before curling up closer to her than before. He doesn't particularly want to leave Scully anytime soon, not if he can help it. Not with the wind howling like that and with the eerie figure of the Specter hovering at the back of his mind. It's silly, but considering how their last run-in with ghosts went, he doesn't think he's overreacting. He holds her hand tight and lays close to her, and she doesn't protest, and he thinks that is what gives him the courage to say what he says.

He says, nose against her hair, hand on her waist: “Scully, do you want to come back to the house with me tomorrow?”

She says nothing; the only sign of surprise is the slight lilt in her breathing. He adds quickly, “Just… to look over that tip I got last week. The one about the river creature?”

“Oh?” Scully asks, and her voice is very nearly coy. “It doesn't have anything to do with what happened tonight?”

He rubs his nose into her hair; he is moving entirely on impulse now. “If it did,” he says softly, “would it change your answer?”

She's quiet. He can hear every breath. It goes on for so long that he begins to consider pulling away, but she hasn't let go of his hand yet.

Finally, she says, “I hope you're ready. I've been thinking of lots of rebuttals for your river creature theories.”

He laughs, a little nervously, a little relievedly. She squeezes his hand once before letting go. She shifts a little in bed, turning over on her side, but she doesn't move away. His chest is against her back, his arm against her hip, and she doesn't move away.

The wind wails and the shutters rattle, and he thinks that the heat must be broken because he's freezing, but they're together, and she's warm. She is so warm, and she's here, and he loves her. He presses his cheek briefly to the back of her head before settling in to go to sleep.

---

Joy leaves the broken necklace on her desk. It's so dark out, she'd probably just lose it, and she couldn't do anything with it tonight, anyway. She feels nearly naked without it around her neck, but she feels equally relieved at the absence. Her breaths are still ragged, her neck still stinging, her heart still pounding. She can't quiet leave the fright of the moment, sweat slicking her palms, a shivery feeling up her spine. She just wants to get home and fall asleep for a few hours before she'll have to wake up and go back into school. She realizes that tonight hasn't exactly made any progress in the way of getting this ghost out of her classroom, and her temples throb. Tonight seemed like an ending, but she doesn't see why it would be. The ghost is likely still there.

She rubs at her eyes with exhaustion, texts her husband to let him know she'll be home soon and starts her car.

The streets are dark, orange and black streamers hanging limply from street lamps and candy wrappers littering the streets. Joy yawns, making a left turn. Driving in the dark has always given her the creeps. She likes to think it's the product of moving to the country after growing up in the city: no lights, no noises, just endless black and silence. She turns on her brights, just because no one else is on the road, and hums absently to herself, drumming her fingers on the dashboard.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the radio springs to life. It's playing Monster Mash, and Joy never thought a goofy song like that would bring as much terror as this one does, because her hands were nowhere near the dial.

Spooked, frantic, Joy tries to reach out with her right hand and turn it off, but she can't move. Her hands are frozen, her wrists achey and her fingers spasming around the wheel in her attempts to move, but it's to no avail. She can't reach over and turn off the radio.

Her eyes yank from side to side frantically, the only part of her body she seems to be able to move. And then her foot moves without her meaning to. She presses down harder on the gas, increasing her speed far past the limit.

Joy tries to thrash, tries to break her hands free from the wheel or her foot from the gas, but she still finds herself frozen, helpless. She can't decrease the pressure. The bouncy sound of Monster Mash continues, too loud, echoing in her eardrums. She whimpers, just a little, as she shoots past 70 in a 35 zone. At least there are no other cars in front of her.

Her eyes jerk again, almost painfully, and land on the rearview mirror. There's no one on the road behind her, but there is a shape in the back seat. A hulking, humanoid shape that seems to be watching her.

Joy's breath catches in her throat, unable to take her eyes away, unable to look away. She is helpless. She can't make out the face of whoever, or whatever, is in the backseat, but she thinks it may be smiling. Smiling maliciously.

The next thing she knows, the shape seems to be lunging at her. Her hand suddenly moves, not of their own accord, swerving the wheel hard to the right.

The next thing she knows, everything is going black.

---

November 1, 2016

Willoughby Daily Press; Willoughby, Virginia

SEVERE CAR CRASH ON PINE TREE ROAD LAST NIGHT

Last night, a car swerved off Pine Tree Road and flipped in the adjacent field. The accident was estimated to take place a few minutes before midnight.

The car belongs to a Mrs. Joy Seers, who was reportedly driving the car when it crashed. Mrs. Seers reportedly obtained major injuries, and was transported to Willoughby General Hospital from the scene. No one else was harmed in the wreck.

Seers's husband was contacted, but declined to comment on his wife's condition. According to a source who requested to stay anonymous, Mrs. Seers is in a coma at Willoughby General, and it is unknown when she is expected to wake up.

The Willoughby Police Department declined to comment on the accident. It is assumed that no foul play was involved, although this is unconfirmed.

#xf rewatch #xf fanfic #i wrote this

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