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pinequarry · 2 months

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Episode 2 - Lottie and Margot's Paranormal pest control™

Lottie

Lottie opened her eyes to a violent rain hammering on her open bedroom window. She could hear the echo of her Mum’s voice down the hall and smell a mix of cheap bacon and mud. Her feet touched the cold floor of her bedroom and she dragged them over to close the window. Her windowsill was damp with rain.

Lottie trudged her way down the very short hallway of her, her mum, and her brother’s bungalow and sat at the kitchen table. In front of her sat a bacon sandwich which looked like it was bleeding from the tomato ketchup. Her mum, Ruth gave her a rough kiss on the forehead from behind and rushed over to the front door with Freddie in her arms.

“Freddie’s at nursery today. Clara and Margot will be over in a bit. Make sure you’re dressed for then and can you wash the dishes”.

Lottie opened her mouth to say something.

“Bye hon!”

The door slammed shut.

Lottie sat gobsmacked for a few moments, before turning to dig into her bacon sandwich.

After piling the dirty dishes into some hot soapy water and giving them a vague wash with a (once white) brown rag and stacking them on the drying rack, she walked back down to her room and put on the blue dress her mum had laid out for her. Then she tied a matching blue bow into the back of her hair. While brushing her teeth, she got startled by the hammering knock at the door, and tripped off of her stool. She rushed out, toothbrush in mouth and opened the front door to see a drenched Margot and Clara and a car driving away.

She ushered them in and ran back to the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth, then gave them both a towel to dry off.

“What do you wanna do then?” Said Clara.

Lottie and Margot looked at each other, then back at Clara and shrugged in synchronisation. Clara’s phone then buzzed, and she checked it quickly. She typed something on her screen and then put her phone back in her pocket.

“Look, Felix just texted me.” Clara said, standing up off of the sofa that they were all sitting on and slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. “His nan is sending him and Indie on some job to find another amulet, and in the meanwhile I’ve been invited to go over and figure out a way to turn this back on.” As she said this, she pulled the amulet she’d found at the fair out of her bag and tapped it twice. “I’m gonna trust you two to behave while I’m gone, and I’ll be back here about an hour before Ruth gets home.”

Clara turned around and started walking towards the door. As she was stepping through the doorway she hesitated and turned around.

“Do not get in any trouble while I’m gone, or I will literally murder you both.”

Then she stepped out of the door and closed it behind her. Lottie ran to the window and watched Clara speedwalking through the rain with her tote bag over her head as a makeshift umbrella.

Lottie turned away from the window and looked at Margot, and as they grinned at each other they knew they were thinking the same thing; this was gonna be fun.

After about fifteen minutes, they were sitting in the kitchen on top of the counters with their legs swinging, and every so often there was a soft thud as their heels bashed against the cabinets.

They were bored.

“This sucks,” Margot complained, jumping off of the counter. “We’ve run out of stuff to do and it’s only…” She glanced at the small clock on the wall. “Half nine. This is Torture.”

Lottie jumped off the counter as well. She looked around, trying to find something to do, making a mental list of things around the kitchen. Kettle. Hob. Biscuit tin. Sugar bowl. Sink. Ladder for the attic.

Wait.

She glanced at Margot, who looked back at her with a confused look. Lottie gestured at the door where the ladder was and Margot followed her gaze.

“Wanna go in the attic?”

Felix

Felix thought that the fact he’d never actually noticed the magic portal door in his house said a lot about him as a person. Maybe he needed to start paying more attention to what was actually going on around him. He looked around the room and saw the door, obviously, a cobweb in the corner, his nan stood in front of him and Indigo stood beside him, looking just as confused and stressed as he did.

“So,” his nan began, “I’m going to send you through the door now, but first I need to tell you what you’ll be doing. The amulet I’m sending you to find is one of the most useful - It is the amulet of Poison transferral.”

“Poison…transferral? What does that mean?” Felix asked. “Like, if you’ve been poisoned, you can send it somewhere else?”

“Basically, yes. It has to be given to another person, though.” His nan clarified. “It comes from a very rare race of elves who are immune to the poison when drunk, so it does not affect them. There used to be a settlement of them in the woods, but Ophir killed them decades ago. They’re all gone now.”

Felix glanced over at Indie, and then felt really bad and looked away. He wondered if that was the kind of elf that she was.

“Second, I’m going to be sending you quite far this time. The further you travel, the more disorientated you will feel, so I suggest you hold on to each other for some stability.” Felix’s nan said. “As soon as you get there, sit down and take a moment to settle yourselves before you move on. Indigo, I’ve told your parents you’re here to do some homework, so they won’t worry too much after you. You’re in no rush, either of you.”

“Thank you, Dumitria.” Indie said. Since the fair nightmare last week, the seven of them had been in a tentative friendship, and they had spent quite a bit of time around Felix’s house, drinking tea and chatting. Most of them were on a first-name basis with his nan these days. Felix liked that, having people round. It gave the house a sense of life it didn’t have before.

“You’ll be going up against two monsters today,” His nan started. “Snakes. There’s a man and a woman, they are deeply in love with each other. One spits poison, and the other spits the antidote. It’s the Female snake that spits the poison, remember that. The male one spits the antidote, but he will not give it to you, as that would be going against his partner. So instead I will give you these.” She took two small strings of purple stones out of her pocket and wrapped one around Indie’s wrist, and one around his. “They’re amethyst. If you get poisoned, use these to cover the wound and it should slow the effects until you can come home to me and I will heal it.”

She stepped aside and motioned for Felix and Indie to step to the door.

“One more thing. The snakes have these abilities that can put you in a trance, but only one of you at a time. You’ll have to work together to stay focused. Now hold on to each other, or else you will lose your balance as soon as you get there, which could make your presence known to the snakes.”

Felix and indie looked at each other, and awkwardly put their arms around each other. Indie squeezed her eyes shut.

“Good luck, you two.” Dumitria opened the door and Felix felt a cold wind pulling them in. Then they were gone from the house, swirling around in every direction. Upside down, around and around until Felix had to shut his eyes too before he was sick. His legs felt weak and his head was spinning until he felt the movement slow and his feet landed on cold, solid, dusty ground. Felix slowly opened his eyes. Around him were corridors of dusty red stone floors and dusty red stone walls. Indigo was still holding on to Felix and she was reeling with her eyes shut. What Felix didn’t see, until he looked over Indie’s head, was the massive piles of terracotta pots and jugs everywhere. Some of them had things inside, like jewellery, chalices, and swords.

Felix put his hands on Indie’s waist and gently lowered her to the ground so she was sitting propped up against a wall.

“Indigo?” He said quietly. She looked very pale, almost greenish. Her eyes fluttered open and Felix helped her to her feet. Her head whipped around and on seeing the terracotta pots around her, careened towards a large vase and threw up in it.

Margot

Through the kitchen door and down the hallway, there was a trapdoor in the ceiling. It was quite low, and Margot guessed she could probably hit it with her fingertips if she jumped up with enough force. She’d first have to put down the ladder she was carrying, though. Lottie stood in front of her with some sort of rod in her hand, with a small metal hook at the end, similar to the hook on the trapdoor.

Lottie opened the door to the attic and Margot placed the ladder in the black empty space. Lottie clambered up until all Margot could see was Lottie’s heel poking out of her sock.

“Don’t come up yet,” Lottie called from the attic. “I need to find the light - actually, can you go grab the torch from the kitchen? It should be on the little table near the door.”

“Okay.” Margot padded down the hallway and into the kitchen. She looked around for the torch, and then grabbed it. It had a bit of weight to it, more than Margot was expecting, and she let it sit in her hands for a moment before she heard Lottie calling Margot from the ladder again. She couldn’t quite hear it, but she heard something along the lines of “my legs are gonna go dead if you don’t hurry up!”

She hurried back to the ladder and passed the torch up, being careful not to drop it, because if she did it would hit her head and hurt very much.

Margot heard the click of the light cord being pulled, but nothing happened.

“The lights are out.” She remarked.

“I can see that,” Lottie said, her voice echoing down through the trapdoor. “Hang on, I’ll turn the torch on and then I’ll climb up.”

Margot hovered on the bottom rung of the wooden ladder and waited for Lottie to call her up. When she did, Margot climbed up slowly so as not to fall down and hurt her head. She poked her head up through the hole in the ceiling and felt as if she had stepped into another world. Around her were boxes of things and old furniture; in the corner Margot noticed a very old rococo style chair, like the ones that her grandparents had at their house opposite the lake. It was made of polished mahogany with gold detailing and there were beautiful, but dusty, patterned cushions sewn into it. In the centre of the room stood Lottie, who was pointing the torch to the ceiling and grinning.

“It’s so cool, isn’t it? There’s this really weird jewellery box in the corner, come look.”

Margot put her feet on the dusty floor and was very glad that she had kept her shoes on. As Lottie paced around the room she kicked up little clouds of dust with her feet. Margot followed her towards the boxes near the wall, being very careful to not get too dusty, as her mother had only washed the dress she was wearing this morning. In front of one of the boxes was a small porcelain box which was painted with flowers and ladies on swings. There was a small metal clasp, which was shut tight. The box was quite big, but Margot figured she could hold it in two hands with minimal effort, and so she did, very carefully, to make sure she didn’t drop it and break it.

“This is so pretty. It must be worth a fortune.” Margot said, turning it in her hands and looking at the little details that were sculpted on it.

“Nah. My dad proposed with it, so it’s probably not worth much more than a glass of water. I’m pretty sure he bought it in a charity shop, actually. It's not worth anything.” Lottie said, leaning over Margot’s shoulder.

“Still. It’s nice, you could put it on your windowsill, or something.” Margot said.

“I don’t want anything to do with it. Plus, Freddie would probably break it. I don’t think my mum would wanna see it either.”

“Lottie, are your parents divorced?”

“Well, no, but they don’t live together, and we moved away so we could get away from him before Freddie was born.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll just have a look inside and then I’ll put it away.” Margot said. She felt as if she’d put her foot in it now when she didn’t need to at all, but she didn’t want to pry any more about it in case she upset her best friend; but she also really wanted to see what the inside of the box looked like.

Before she could get a good look at the inside of the box, the strongest wind Margot had ever felt burst from it, throwing Margot and Lottie up in the air as if they were weightless. They came crashing through the trapdoor, slamming onto the floor, winded. For a few minutes, neither of them reacted. They just led on the floor, trying to catch their breath. Margot noticed, though, that she could hear a vague belly laugh coming from the attic. It was like a witches’ cackle. Lottie turned to Margot, eyes wide, and she could tell they were thinking the same thing - they were both wondering what just happened.

When they both had some air back in them, Lottie stood up and pulled Margot to her feet. Lottie started climbing up the ladder again, but Margot grabbed her ankle.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I’m going back up there, and I’m gonna…I don’t even know, but whatever is up there is getting it.” Lottie responded, not looking down to Margot.

“Or we could not do that? He’ll just throw us back out again.”

“How do you know it’s a he? It could be a girl aggressive wind.” Lottie said, pushing open the trapdoor. She continued to climb.

“Well, you have fun with that. I’m staying down here, and I won’t be getting winded again!” Margot crossed her arms and huffed. She loved Lottie to bits, but sometimes Margot thought she could be very, very, stupid. As this was happening, she could hear Lottie shouting something, and she was unsure if Lottie was talking to Margot or the thing that knocked them over. Then she saw Lottie being launched back onto the ground again. Margot rushed to pick her up, but couldn’t help but sneak in a quiet “I told you so.” as she did.

Indie

After spewing her guts up into a pot with a carving of some sort of lake beast on it, she turned around to see the space while leaning on the pot that now stank of stomach contents.

Before her, a dusty corridor. It was cluttered with stacks of crates, and pots, some broken. The walls were a dusty reddish-yellow and smoothly curved at the top. On one side there were varieties of holes and cracks in the walls where bright light beamed in, but when one looked outside, there wasn’t much to be seen. The air was dry, the room was hot, there was sand creeping into the little holes on the side of her converse. Indie didn’t want to be here.

“You okay?” Asked Felix, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded and dusted herself off.

“I guess we go this way,” She said, facing the torrid corridor.

Felix nodded and they both made their way.

They spent an arduous amount of time walking, avoiding knocking any pots over, down the tunnel, until they had turned around so many corners that no more sunlight could reach in to light it up, so along the walls were little openings with candles in them which surprisingly lit the way up quite well. The lack of sun now meant that it was much cooler and they could walk with less discomfort. Indie noticed that the pots were filled with random sorts of bric-a-brac and some valuable treasures such as coins, arrows, gemstones, and vases. The deeper they got into the tunnel, the tighter the walls became. There were also carvings on the walls that appeared to be of snakes. At the end of the tunnel, Indie could see a large white curtain. They eventually made their way up to it. It was made of cotton and the base had orange stains from the sand. Indie looked at Felix who stood next to her.

“Open it?” She asked.

Felix shrugged. They stood for a moment before both taking hold of a piece of each side of the fabric at the gap in the middle, their knuckles brushing together slightly. They hesitated before both ripping the curtains open. Before them was a huge hall. The tall walls had arches in them in levels with dark tunnels behind them.

The ceiling was open to the sky with the sun centred above the hole. In the middle of the room was a tall pile of coins, gems, jewellery, furniture, tiaras and all sorts of other pieces of valuable treasure. At the top of the stack was a small podium which they assumed extended down through the pile to the ground. Atop it was some sort of green item which glinted in the sunlight. They entered the hall. Felix walked over to a large vase full of swords with an image of a person made up of other people on it and took one with a metal scraping sound that echoed across the room. Indie then watched Felix struggle to the peak of the pile. He made it to the top. She watched from the ground as he lifted the unidentified objects from its podium. He lifted it up.

“I think it’s the amulet! He called down.

She smiled.

Suddenly, debris fell from the top of the room and some treasures fell from their place on the pile. From one of the dark archways, Indie noticed something move. A large, thick, long body skulked behind the openings, the owner of the body was unclear but it appeared to be some form of giant snake. She noticed the same thing a few levels below. Indie couldn’t be sure if they were different beings or the same and she couldn’t decide which would be worse. One extra giant snake, or two giant snakes.

Margot

“It’s definitely a ghost,” Lottie said. “And a boy one too.”

“How do you know that?” Margot asked in response.

“I don’t know,” Lottie looked back up at the trapdoor, and the ceiling that was now shaking. “It just kinda…makes sense. I just kinda feel it, in my brain, I guess.”

“Woah.” Margot said.

They had decided not to try going into the attic for a third time, and instead decided to sit together on the sofa.

“We can’t just let him be in my attic,” Lottie said, “He’s got my torch and it’ll run out of battery - and he’s bloody rude.”

“You shouldn’t swear, it’s vulgar.” Margot huffed. Her mother was always telling her to speak properly, and so swearing like that was a big no no.

“What? Bloody isn’t a swear word. Not really.” Lottie said, and she made a face, scrunching up her nose and curling her lip. “It’s, like, an in between-y word. It doesn't hurt anybody.”

“It’s still vulgar.” Margot retaliated. “Stop saying it.”

“No.”

“Oh, whatever then, suit yourself.” Margot sank back into her chair and sighed,

“So,” Lottie said, sitting up as soon as Margot had led down. “What are we gonna do about the ghost in my attic?”

Margot stayed where she was.

“Hey! I’m asking for your input here,” Lottie said, this time bashing Margot’s head with a cushion which led to a high pitched “Ow!” from her.

“I don’t know, it’s a ghost. What are we meant to do, take a photo and take it to the police and go, please come sort out the ghost in the attic, it’s totally real and we didn’t make it up. We don’t even know that it is a ghost for sure.”

“Taking a picture isn’t a bad idea though,” Lottie said, jumping off the sofa. “We can use your phone.”

“I don’t want to use my phone, what if the ghost steals my phone?” Margot said, putting her hand over her pocket protectively.

“Well I can’t very well use my one, can I? I haven’t got one.” Lottie said, throwing her arms around wildly. “Here, I’ll hold it for you if you like, and then you can stay here.”

“No, I’ll come.” Margot sighed, and got to her feet. She really wasn’t bothered trying to catch this ghost, but she knew Lottie wouldn’t be able to do it.

They put the flash on Margot’s phone, and silently they climbed up the ladder. Lottie shuffled to her left and Margot clambered beside her so they were sitting on the same rung. Slowly, Lottie lifted up the trapdoor and they poked their heads through the hole. The torch, which was still on, was reflecting off of the back wall which gave the whole room an eerie glow.

“...Hello?” Margot said quietly to the empty room, fully prepared for the wind to knock them down again - but this time nothing happened. Instead, there came a loud cackle that seemed to travel around their heads in many circles, which made the girls swirl their heads around to follow the noise.

“I thought you would’ve given up by now. You are very persistent!” Said the voice, still echoing in circles before settling somewhere in front of them. Lottie started climbing up the ladder, into the attic before Margot could grab her.

“Right! I’ve had enough of you! You throw me out of my own attic, and you won’t even bother to show yourself! You… huge loser!”

“Ouch! What an insult.” Said the ghost’s voice, accompanied by a slow clapping noise. “But if you really see it that way, I suppose I can make something up. Let’s see…”

Suddenly the ghost appeared in front of them. He looked to be in his late thirties, or maybe forties, and he was very fat and squat. He had flat, greasy hair that stuck out in clumps under an orange jester's hat with bells on it. His nose was very sticky-outy and round, and almost looked like a broomstick handle glued to his face. And he was wearing the most ugly outfit Margot had ever seen, and she had seen what her dad used to wear to church when he was a teenager.

“Oh, thank you.” Lottie said graciously. “NOW then! You need to leave, now! You’re rude, you’ve made my attic look like a mess, you’ve stolen my torch and on top of all of that, you tried to kill us! We literally could’ve died from that fall off that ladder, we’re only little girls! You really want to bully a pair of little girls?! That’s pathetic! Honestly, you are such a loser. Now get out of my house, before I make you!”

During this tirade, Margot had clambered up to the attic and hovered behind Lottie. The ghost looked fairly dumbfounded, and took several moments to process this rant before he spoke again.

“Hoh, okay, I guess I’ll leave then - but, can I do one thing first?” he said eventually.

“I suppose.” Lottie replied, arms folded.

Slowly, the poltergeist reached into the pocket of his stripy trousers. Before Margot could get a proper look at it, he flung his arm in a wide arc, throwing what the girls realised too late was some sort of orange powder in their direction, and they were covered in it, head to toe. Then the ghost blew very hard and another gust of wind came and threw them out of the attic, slamming the door shut behind them.

Felix

After telling Indie what the object was, he examined the amulet further. It was green, but appeared to have an animated, purple, swirling pattern too. The crystal was in a metal holder with an ornate chain attached to it. He looked back down at Indie who he assumed was looking at him from the odd feeling at the back of his neck but she seemed to be gawping at something behind him.

“What?” He asked. There was a low rumble in the ground and Felix nearly fell over. He turned to see what Indie was looking at. From the arches in the walls, about 7 or 8 levels up, was a pair of giant beasts. From the darkness rose two huge snakes. Instead of snakes heads were the scaled bodies of two muscled human torsos. One seemed to be more feminine, the other more masculine. They had lizard-like faces with giant fangs and reptilian eyes. On the sides of their heads and neck were odd frills. The masculine snake had more patterns on (His?) frills, and a frill also at the bottom of his jaw. The more feminine snake had less colour and pattern, and repulsively greasy and scraggly hair drooping down over her vile face. Felix stood in terrified awe at the duo of saurian beasts before losing his balance and toppling down the treasure pile. The sword he was holding fell out of his hand after scraping his shoulder. Felix stood up and shook off the sand then looked back up at the monsters and ran. The snakes darted down at him. He grabbed Indie and hammered it across the room to a tall pile of vases, behind it was a small opening big enough for the two of them, but small enough that neither of the snakes would be able to fit. They dived into the crevice, falling on top of eachother. Felix got a bunch of sand in his mouth. They turned to face the entrance. Indie pulled a large pot with a grotesque carving of a snail on it to block it and they both scuttled to the back of the hole.

“Have you got the amulet?” Indie asked, flustered.

“Yep it’s here” He said, holding up not the amulet, but a broken piece of pottery.

“Shit it’s not here”

Just then, the snail shattered into a bazillion pieces as the female snake bashed herself against the shelter they were in.

She rammed herself but couldn’t quite fit before trying to use one of her long reptilian arms to try and grab them. The hands were like a humans, but with sickly long talons instead of nails. The two shrunk back as far as they could and wondered to themselves in pure terror how long they were going to have to wait this out.

Indigo

Indie tried to kick away the ophidian arm that flailed around the cave, but in turn basically gave herself to the snake. She felt the claws wrap around her leg and pull her out. She spun around before being still. The head of whatever this beast was was about the same size as her torso, its large fangs dripping with a green slimy liquid.

The snake adjusted Indie to be held upright and face her. Indie looked directly into the large eye of the reptilian woman. She felt her head spin. Not from the multiple rocks she had hit on her way out of the cave, or the twirling they did while being dangled upside down but from the bizarre gaze of the snake. A nauseous feeling accumulated in her stomach, not like butterflies but more like a swarm of angry hornets, and her vision became blurry and swirly and soon everything disappeared.

Lottie

Lottie’s mum was going to kill her. Seeing as Lottie had used the last of their hot water to wash all of that orange powder off of herself and Margot, there wouldn’t be any for her mum or Freddie until tomorrow.

“At least we know what he looks like now.” Margot said, wringing out her hair into the sink. She was now wearing one of Lottie’s other pairs of pyjamas, which were ever so slightly too small. Lottie was wearing her own pyjamas, and their clothes were sitting in the washing up bowl with some soapy water to try and swill out the powder. It wasn’t magical, at least Margot said it wasn’t, so Lottie wasn’t very worried that it was going to turn them into toads any time soon.

“I suppose, but knowing what he looks like isn’t very helpful, is it? I’d rather know how to get rid of him.”

“Well,” Margot straightened up, her hair now back to its usual coppery colour. “Now we know what he looks like, we can figure out what he is, and how to get rid of him.”

“He’s horrid. I hate him.” Lottie said. “And anyway, where are we supposed to find out what he is?”

Margot said and thought about this for a second, tapping her foot against the cold tile as she did so.

“I think Clara has a book on ghosts somewhere in her room. We could go look in there.”

“We’re in pyjamas, how are we supposed to walk all the way to your house? It’s miles away.” Lottie said.

If you were a stranger walking through Spring Creek Acres, you would have been very perplexed to see two little girls walking down the road in one adult woman’s coat under a large black umbrella. They tried to run multiple times but nearly tripped, and seeing as they each had one arm in the sleeve of the coat and another arm holding the umbrella, they agreed it would be safer to walk. The walk was quite short, although Lottie had said it was miles away, but by the time they got there they were both soaked to the bone.

“Okay, be quiet when we go in because I don’t know if my mother is home or not and if she finds out Clara’s not with us she’ll flip her lid.” Margot said before silently pushing the back door open.

Lottie thought they must have had the biggest kitchen in all of Pinequarry. It was huge, and there were dark wood cabinets lining two of the walls, a fridge the size of Lottie’s bathroom surely, and a big metal oven with two stoves. There was a big kitchen island, and at it was who Lottie assumed to be Margot’s dad. He looked quite old to be a dad, and his hair was jet black with streaks of grey in it. He looked much more like Clara than he did like Margot.

Margot breathed a sigh of relief on seeing her dad.

“Hi dad!” She said, straightening up and wriggling out of the coat.

“Hello darling,” Margot’s dad said, “and hello Lottie! I thought you were supposed to be staying at your house.” he winked at Lottie in a comical way. She giggled in response.

“Where’s your sister?” Mr. Rook said to Margot. “I thought she was looking after you.”

“She’s with Felix, I think. Don’t tell Mother.” Margot said.

“That’s okay then. Gosh, you two looked soaked! Would you like some orejitas? I’ve only just left them to cool. We won’t tell Clara you had any.” Mr. Rook said.

Orejitas, Lottie learned, were small crunchy biscuit-y things that they dipped in some tea. They were very sweet and very delicious. After their snack, Margot gave Lottie some old clothes to wear, and they went into Clara’s room to grab the book.

The room was large and circular, and there were many stairs up to it. In the middle of the room was a bug circular table with cushions around it. In fact, there were cushions and blankets all over the place. The walls were a deep purple, and there were shelves and cabinets full of different magical objects that Lottie had never seen before. There were long, thick, velvet curtains on the windows, and small sheer curtains along Clara’s bed, which was tucked into a nook in the wall. It smelled smoky and heavy, and Lottie felt like there was a candle burning somewhere that she could not see.

The book was large, dusty and had a red cover with GHOSTS & other Spiritual Correspondences written in gold lettering. They opened it to the table of contents where they saw many different types of ghosts like banshees, poltergeists, vengeful spirits and guardian angels.

“We still don’t know what we’re looking for.” Lottie said.

“Well, let’s try the index,” Margot replied, flipping to the back of the book. “There must be something on powder, or like…pranks, or something.”

They scanned all of the words until they found one that read practical jokes. They turned to page 402 and found themselves on the Poltergeist page.

The poltergeist is a playful spirit that usually targets young children and teenagers. They will usually perform practical jokes like messing up furniture or stealing objects. Usually they are manifested by an emotional imbalance in the youth that it is attached to. In order to track why this has happened, try using where the poltergeist has come from as a guide.

“Well there we are then,” Margot said. “We just need to figure out why the poltergeist is there, and then you can…fix this emotional imbalance, I don’t know, and we can get rid of him. Seems pretty easy.”

“No it’s not!” Lottie said. “I have no idea where this “emotional imbalance” is even coming from!” She made little air quotes with her hands.

“Well, let’s think about it.” Margot sat down on a cushion, slamming the dusty book on the round table. “The last thing we touched in the attic was that little box, so it might have…something to do…with your dad?” As she spoke, her voice got quieter so she finished in a whisper.

Lottie sighed.

“Great.”

Felix

Felix backed away and squished himself against the rough, dusty wall of the cave. He tried to peek out to see what was happening to Indie without making himself known but couldn’t see anything. While trying to watch, something caught his eye. The amulet sparkled in the sunlight at the base of the treasure pile, next to it the sword he had grabbed.

There was a thundering movement from outside before the room fell into silence. Hesitantly, Felix crept toward the cave opening to see what was going on. The room was still and the monsters had vanished. He made his way out of the cave, the sun searing down on him. Silently he speed-walked over, picking up the sword first, then the amulet which he buried deep into his backpack. He then swivelled around to observe the rest of the room. On the podium Felix could see Indie, led on top of it on her back. There was rumble from above, so Felix ran back to the hole in the wall where he watched the male snake slither into the room and up toward Indie. He knew that the male carried the antidote so if it did bite Indigo, it shouldn’t do anything bad. It began to encircle the treasure when the female slithered down from the otherside of the room. He watched as the male used his claw to cut open Indigo’s arm. Blood spilled out and dripped down onto the coins and golden goblets that sat underneath. Then, the female snake opened her mouth, and a green droplet slid down her sharp, shiny fang, dangled on the end for a moment before dipping into Indie’s open wound.

Felix decided what to do. He made his way silently out of the cave and down a nearby corridor. He checked to see that the snakes were still distracted with Indie before racing down. He found a tight, twisty staircase which he stumbled up. It went on for quite a while. At the top he found a new corridor and followed it the way he assumed to lead back out to the hall. He soon found the archways and saw a good view of the snakes from high above. He sat down and contemplated what he would do.

After observing the room and what was around him he formulated a plan. There was a large terracotta pot with a carving of a beetle on it. He would push the pot off the ledge to get the snake's attention. Once it was close enough he would slice it’s head off. Easy enough.

The snakes were still surrounding Indie, and Felix was not sure what they were doing and didn't really want to know or let it continue, so skulked along the ledge to the pot. Before pushing it, he checked inside to find a bigger sword than the one he already found so swapped them out. However, when he picked it up, a large, green beetle that had been resting on the underside of the sword's handle crawled onto the back of Felix’s hand, startling him. He shook it off and in turn almost slipped off of the ledge. Instead he knocked into the pot, pushing it off the ledge. It crashed down on the ground with a huge smash. The snakes both whipped around to face him. Felix stared at them for a moment, frozen, before backing away back up the corridor as the female snake bolted through the air directly at the archway. The pillars either side shattered and the room shook as she forced herself into the tight hole; Luckily she couldn’t fit. Felix ran down the hall, sword in hand and round a few corners where he found a new staircase. After checking that the beast was still attacking the now empty hallway, he ran up the stairs, slipped and grazed his knee, but continued, and rounded the corner so he was above the feral snakes.

Felix took a big, deep breath. He stepped away from the ledge, then ran and jumped down onto the neck of the female snake. He stabbed his sword into her neck and she turned around, flailing to get him off. Then, holding on to the vile, greasy hair that came out of her head, placed the sword on the bottom of her neck and pulled it though, slicing her head clean off. He fell to the ground with the head but luckily a thick pile of sand broke his fall. The body of the snake was still flopping around in the air before it fell to the ground, lifeless, and leaking a bloody mess over the gold coin fortune. Felix checked the room and saw that the male snake had disappeared. He must’ve slithered back into the labyrinth of corridors behind the arches. After that, Felix ran up the pile to Indie. She was led on the podium. Her wound was dripping with blood, and the area around the wound had turned green. So had her eyes. Felix took his backpack and rummaged for the charm his grandmother had given him. Once he had found it he placed it on Indigo’s cut. The bleeding stopped and the green liquid dripped out.. Her arm returned to its regular hue and the skin around the cut tightened to form more of a scratch. She was still, however, out of it. Her eyes were still green and looking directly at the sun. The only thing Felix could think of was to just shake her till she snapped back to reality. So he did. He took her by the shoulders and shook her back and forth till something happened.

Indigo

Indie woke up to Felix shaking her violently.

“Indie. Indie. Indigo. Wake up. Hello?”

“Felix stop” She pushed Felix off her and he toppled back. Her vision was blurry with odd colours from staring directly into the sun and she was very nauseous. Suddenly an agonising pain burst through her arm. She screamed in pain before it stopped and she spun around and vomited.

“You alright?” Felix asked.

She nodded “Yep. Im fine”

Felix then pulled Indie down the pile of treasure into the cave in the side of the room. Indie noticed the giant serpent head and body that laid on the ground. Felix must’ve killed it. She had a pit in her stomach. Yes, the thing had put her into some sort of trance and poisoned her, but it didn’t deserve to die! It was just doing it out of protection, they were in its territory and it wanted them out.

They sat down in the hovel facing each other.

“I think it hypnotised you” Felix said “But I have the amulet”

“So we can leave now?” Indie asked.

“Yes, but there's something I want to do”

Indie tilted her head in confusion.

“I think we should kill the other snake. We can get the poison and the antidote from their fangs in bottles if we can find some. It might be useful, and also, do ensure they won't be a threat any longer” Felix said.

“No. We can’t just kill it because we want something. We have what we need, let's go” Indie pleaded.

“No, it’s something we need to do”

Felix picked up his sword and crawled out of the cave. The pit in Indigo’s stomach grew into more of a black hole.

She crawled out behind him and walked over to a cluster of pots. She really didn’t want to kill the other. She didn’t want to kill anything but one was dead so she may as well make use of it. She rummaged through a few vases before finding two, small, glass, bottles filled with sand. She took them both and poured the sand out, blew into them to get any excess out, then placed them into her pocket.

She turned to face Felix, who was on the other side of the room smashing pots with his sword, and banging his sword onto a big golden pan. After a few bangs, the room shook and the male snake slithered out of an arch. He looked down at Felix who began to back up toward the hole they were previously hiding in.

The snake did a savage hiss and its frills spread out to form a terrifying display before it pounced on Felix.

Indie ran to the hole in the wall followed by Felix, followed by the snake who was half slithering half crawling toward them. They backed into the cave as far as they could and it rammed itself at the entrance. It tried to fit in to reach them but couldn't. Its terrifying fangs dripping, as it bit at the air in front of them. Felix threw his sword blade first into the open mouth of the snake stabbing it in the back of the throat. It retreated and flailed in the air just as his partner did before falling to the ground with a big, loud, thump.

The pair slowly made their ways out of the cave, toward the bodies of the snakes. Indie gave a bottle to Felix and he walked over to the female and filled the vile with the poison. Indigo did the same at the male snake with the antidote. Felix then stuffed the bottles into his bag and checked that the amulet was still there (it was) and they made their way through the white curtain from which they had entered and back to the door that they had come through. Felix opened it and they stepped into it, falling and whirling around hit by a cold wind before they stumbled out into the room that they were in before.

They were home.

Indigo

Indie pushed past Dumitria and Clara and vomited out the open window behind them. She turned and stood next to Felix.

“Did you get it?” Asked Dumitria.

Felix held up the green and purple amulet. Dumitria smiled and took it from him, then placed it into a chest on the side which had slots for each of the amulets and labels.

“Well done both of you” Dumitria congratulated.

The pair stood, grinning with pride when a loud creek sounded behind them. The door which they had just come through shaked, and all four of them stood back. Then, the door fell straight off its hinges flat on the floor. Indie the door frame was a brick wall. Rather than the usual dark, draughty passageway.

“We’ll have to fix that,” Dumitria chuckled.

Lottie

Back at her house, Lottie was sitting on the top rung for what she was hoping to be the final time. She and Margot had made a plan by using the book, and they had decided the best way to send the message that the ghost needed to leave was for Lottie to speak to the poltergeist as if she was speaking to herself.

She pushed open the door. The attic was now plunged in darkness.

“Margot,” Lottie said, her body halfway in the attic and half out. “Margot, I’m scared.”

“That’s okay. You can do it, even if you need to do it scared.” She called from the floor. Margot thought it was best to stay out of this.

Lottie shut the trapdoor and was plunged into darkness. She sat down criss-cross on the floor, and spoke to the dark space:

“You don’t need to throw me out this time. I just want to talk.”

There was no reply.

“Look, I know that you’re as scared as I am. Scared of…what might happen if dad came back. But things are different now, we don’t have to worry about it.”

Once again there was no sound.

“There’s so many people who look after us, and Mum, and Freddie. One of them is downstairs right now.”

This time, the poltergeist appeared, but less bright this time. He seemed to be crying and sniffling quietly.

“It’s okay to be sad, or scared, or angry. That’s very fair. No one will blame you.”

He got brighter, and brighter.

“There are people that love you.”

Finally, the poltergeist got brighter than he was before, and then disappeared. The lights in the attic came back on gently, and Lottie took a deep breath.

“Lottie?” Margot called from downstairs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Lottie shouted. “He’s gone.”

Just then, they heard the sound of the door opening. Lottie scrambled down the ladder and rushed to lean it back against the door, as Clara stepped back through the door. The girls stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen.

“Hey guys. Have fun while I was gone?” Clara said.

“Yes, you could say that.” Lottie said, glancing at Margot. The two started giggling.

“Did you get the amulet to work?” Margot asked.

Clara sighed. “Nope, not today. But Felix broke that portal door, so I’m probably gonna have to fix that before I can fix the amulet. Lottie, your Mum’s in the driveway, so me and Margot are gonna walk home now.”

Lottie sat on the rainy front step, and waved at Clara and Margot as they left. She could hear Ruth calling her into the kitchen for dinner, and she jumped up from the step and rushed into the kitchen, feeling a little lighter than she had that morning.

#authors #book blog #fantasy #literature #my writing #ao3 #books #pinequarry #author #bookish #Pinequarry - SEASON 1 #Pinequarry - STORY #booklr #bookblr #my art #my ocs

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ackerlag · 8 months

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for @nosebleedclub's january prompts no. 16 — the grey coat with red lining.

the front door is brown. and the walls inside are a dry beige. your mother insisted that soft neutral colors look good for interior, but you never saw eye to eye with her about home aesthetics. the coat rack is thankfully black. the coat you use everyday is grey — although at the rate it's going, you won't be surprised if it's more the color of dust and the real grey of the material.

the office is half a city away and you commute everyday at five twenty, coming back just shy after nine. the grey coat is like a protective armor with a lot of history. your brother had a phase in highschool when he thought fashion was the only way of self-expression that was ever valid and bought a whole sewing machine. his first result, the fabrics from god-knows-where, is this battered grey coat. it's downright horrendous, worn and torn at the edges thanks to the amateur handicraft and the everyday use. the red lining on it clashes horribly against the base color — he said once it was a symbolism of one's immense passion rebelling against the system that forces everyone into molds and turns people into copies of robots, robots into copies of people. you've used this coat everyday for two years since you started working at the office.

your current job pays well. well enough to put food on the table. well, that's a lie. your mother puts the food on the table. your father passed away two years ago. your mother still cooks the same dishes she's always cooked, places the food atop of the same cracked ceramic plates she's always had, tells the same anecdotes of her sweet youth and your father's hardships through his life as she's always done. but you're the one who wins the bread to be cooked into toast every morning, even if your mother is the one who has to turn on the toaster and wash the dishes after you've gone off to work, even if your brother mourns and mourns and coops himself up in his room, ladden with grief, and your sister is too young to understand anything. in this sense, your current job pays well — well enough your mother doesn't have to look for another fulltime job, although she does take up knitting to sell some scarves, and well enough someone always has some time to place the dinner plate in front of your brother's door and well enough your sister can still grin a toothy smile everytime you buy her a new toy for christmas and tell her santa thinks she's a good child.

well enough for you to buy another coat.

it's hard to pinpoint why exactly you haven't bought one. on the online shopping platform you use nowadays, everything is cheaper when you know the tricks. soap and shampoo, frying oil, a new vacuum cleaners when the old one broke, canned tuna your sister maybe likes too much to be healthy, the tote bag you got for your best friend's birthday last january, the yarns for your mother. coupons, vouchers, discounts, sales, promotions — everything can be a trick utilized when you're in need or it can all also be a trick used on you, the needy. you've scrolled through dozens of coat options, all grey, without red linings and varying degrees less ugly than your current one. every time, your thumb hovers over the little cart icon and you hit the back button on your scratched phone screen.

there are other important things you could get instead. your shoulders sag with weight and your mind clears.

there are still other bills you need to pay. you go over the numbers when you wake up in the morning and once again when you're about to sleep in the night.

there are two siblings, one who still needs his time to slowly rise out of his cocoon, another one who is barely a budding sprout, a mere seed. there is one mother, smile lines visible and skin starting to dull, too old to be selling her soul to keep strangers warm in the winter.

these days, your eyes burn a lot and you wonder if you need to check it out or if it's that hard to admit that you always want to cry. the new coat can wait. the red lining is still strong, no matter how muddied the grey fabric is looking — it's not breaking anytime soon. it can hold the fort still a while longer, maybe you just need to sort out your priorities and budget a little tighter for now.

#tw grief #grief tw #ackerlag writes #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #spilled words #prose #prose poetry #prose poem #tw death #death tw #nosebleedclub #adding the tw to be safe...#i'm not sure if the piece warrants the tw but to be safe #writeblr #writing #creative writing

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lorirwritesfanfic · 2 years

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Clingy

Author’s note: Evelyn Bennington is a creation of this author. The other characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Book: Open Heart Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x F!MC (Evelyn) Rating: E Word count: 1399 Reading time: ~6min Summary: Evelyn went on a shopping spree and Rafael can't hardly wait for her to come home. Based on the prompts: @choicesmonthlychallengee Picktober: Kinktober - Leather/Lace

Raindrops drum on the glass windows as Rafael checks his phone one more time. She's nearly two hours late. Though she said she'd probably arrive earlier at home, once Evelyn got Sienna's text mentioning sales at Bloomingdale's, he knew he'd have dinner by himself. Which is fine. Evelyn is currently on a diet, so he could have the greasy cheeseburger with fries and soda he has been craving for weeks. But it's so strange to stay alone at home. Didn't she say she would just take a look? Why is she taking so long?

He idly flips between TV channels eating the last of his fries, looking for any kind of distraction. He shouldn't worry so much. Their neighborhood is quite calm and Evelyn can handle herself just fine. Yet, deep down he knows this isn't about protectiveness. It's about missing her.

His eyes find his phone again, but he shakes his head and looks back at the TV. Evelyn's job is so demanding and, now that she moved in with him, she has spent so little time with her friends. It doesn't see right to spoil her rare moment of fun with her friends.

Almost half an hour passed when the door finally opens.

"Hi!" Evelyn walks in grinning from ear to ear carrying six large bags.

"Hi," he answers, glancing at the bags. "I see you didn't just look around."

"I swear I'd just tag along with Sienna and Jackie. But you're not going to believe the stuff I got here." She then puts the bags on the floor and opens one of them to fish out an orange tote bag. "Look at this! Isn't it pretty?"

"I like the color. I assume you're going to wear it to go out?"

"Yes! I got so much stuff to wear when we travel to Brazil."

His brows go up in surprise. "Did you?"

"What? You're not the only one daydreaming about this trip."

He smiles softly. "I'm glad you've been thinking about it too, meu amor. But you also said you'd save money for the trip."

"And I am! I only bought things that I'm going to wear on the trip and some essential items. By the way, I got something for you."

Rafael looks down at the bags then at her. "For me?"

Evelyn produces a leather jacket out of one of the bags. "You said you wanted a new jacket."

"You didn't have to do that…"

"I know. But I wanted to. I was wandering between the clothing racks searching for stuff that would look good on you and I thought you'd like it. It's comfy, it'll keep you warm and it's stylish," she adds.

He takes the jacket and nods. It does look nice.

"Go try it on."

"Now?"

"Yeah now!" She grins and kisses his cheek. "Go check in the bedroom. I want to see how it looks on you."

With that, Rafael goes to their room and stares at himself in the mirror while he puts on the jacket. It fits him like a glove and it feels nicer than he expected.

He is suddenly startled by Evelyn's arms wrapping around his frame as she hugs him from behind.

"You look so dapper, amor," she purrs.

"Thanks…" He smiles coyly.

"Do you like it?"

"I do." He turns around to gaze at her. "It's a beautiful jacket, amor. Thank you."

"No problem," she replies and steps back. "I also bought something else I thought you might like."

His jaw drops as Evelyn takes off her coat, revealing a set of emerald green lace underwire bra and panties.

"What do you think?"

"You look stunning, Eve. Though I have to say…" He takes a few steps closer to her. "If you've been walking around Boston wearing just a coat and tiny underwear since you left the store, you must be cold."

"So cold…" Evelyn nods, pouting a little.

"We have to find a way to get you warm," Rafael whispers, pulling her flush against him.

Making quick work with his clothes, they quickly move to the bed. On top of her, Rafael pulls the sheer fabric just enough to free her breasts and proceeds to suck one of her nipples while teasing the other with his hand.

As Evelyn moans, Rafael climbs down slowly and kisses her lower belly. He smiles at the sight of her panties drenched from her juices and pushes them aside to sink two fingers inside her while his thumb works on her clit.

His eyes sweep over her body and he smiles. With parted lips, she moans in delight as her sweat runs down her belly, cheeks flush, hips bucking to meet the thrust of his fingers. "You're exquisite, meu amor. I could watch you like this for hours."

"But I want more…" She begs.

"So do I…" He leans in to whisper. "But it'd be a shame not to fully appreciate how beautiful you look in this new underwear of yours."

She smiles, nibbling her bottom lip. "So you like it."

"Like is an understatement. I love it," he says as his fingers work faster.

"Raf, I want you…" Evelyn groans.

He then removes his fingers from her and pulls her panties down. "We won't need these anymore."

"But you said you love them!" She fakes pouts slightly.

"Oh, I do. I'll steal them whenever you leave me here all alone, missing you like crazy. But right now they're getting in my way."

She giggles.

Closing her legs, Rafael holds them close to his chest and slowly plunges into her. Both of them gasp. Once again, he thinks to himself he could spend hours like this, just savoring her warmth around him. But the best is yet to come.

He moves in and out, picking up speed as Evelyn meows louder. Taking his time, he gazes at her once again. Nipples hard, hands clenching the sheets, ragged breath, walls tightening around him. She's so ready. And he could barely wait to finish inside her.

"Faster…" She pleads.

He grins then hammers into her.

Her brows knit together as her body is about to climax. "Raf, I can't hold it…"

"It's okay. Let it go, meu amor…"

Her toes curl as she cries out in ecstasy. Yet he doesn't stop.

"One more?"

"Yes, please." Evelyn smirks.

Still holding her legs, he opens them and lies on her, pressing her lower limbs against her breasts as he sinks deeper.

She gasps as he rams into her. With their face at last so close, their lips meet in hungry kisses, fueled by their need for each other. It doesn't take long for her to find release again, followed by his grunts as he spills his seeds into her.

Once he eases himself out, he lays down beside her and brushes a few locks of hair away from her face. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" She smiles trying to catch her breath. "I'm on cloud nine, babe!"

He chuckles.

"Is there a special reason for these new moves? Besides the lingerie, of course."

"No… I just missed you while you were gone."

"You could've called me."

"I could. But I didn't want to ruin your time with the girls. You haven't gone out much lately. Especially by yourself. You deserve to have fun with your friends."

"Aw… You're so sweet." Evelyn crawls on top of him and gives him a peck. "But I wouldn't have minded if you texted me saying you miss me."

"Would it be too clingy?"

"Not for me. But just in case it felt clingy to you, you could have mentioned everything you planned to do to me when I got home."

"Very well." He grins and kisses the tip of her nose. "Get ready for some serious sexting next time."

Evelyn giggles. "Can't wait."

#choices fanfic #open heart fanfic #rafael aveiro #rafael x f!MC #choicesmonthlychallenge #Kinktober #n*fw #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates

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annaphoenix1994 · 1 year

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Ch.95 - Christmas Plans

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Simon, Kiera, Price, and Soap make a trip to Wal-Mart to go Christmas shopping for Baler, Jacob, and Evie; Soap admits his struggles to Simon about finding the perfect ring for Teeter; The two have their usual banter.

"What about these, Simon?" Kiera asked him, holding up a button-up shirt that was Baler's size as they took a trip into town to go Christmas shopping for the boy, toting Price, Alice, and Soap along with them as Kiera felt Simon needed time with his closest comrades. As for Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro, and Teeter, they were excited to stay behind and gather cattle with Bud, gladly taking Baler along to teach him what they learned.

"I don't think he's very picky with clothes, love."

"Well, he might want to wear something nice for when everything is official." She smiled, watching him mirror her expression before reaching towards the maroon-colored shirt on the rack behind her.

"I think he'd like this color. The blue is nice, but I see him wearing a lot of darker colors like this."

"I think so, too," She nodded, taking the shirt and ensuring it was Baler's size before removing the hanger from it and tossing it into the bin. "Alright, this is the last of the new shirts and pants I've gotten for him. He has plenty of shoes and a good pair of work boots," She began to babble, reaching into her purse to check her list. "Jacob and Evie's gifts are supposed to be delivered tomorrow... Oh! I need to get him a card. I'm going to put his new clothes into the same box. Don't you think he'd want a new video game or something?"

Simon shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe, but with those two games he bought last month, he's been working more than he's been playing them."

"Well, what do you think? I think he should have some time to himself. He's still a kid."

"I agree, love," He sighed. "How about this? You know that extra bedroom at the house?"

"Yes?..."

"And how it doesn't have anything in it to be a room?"

"...Yes?"

He smirked, his hand coming down to grasp the side of the grocery cart, "How about we turn it into a bedroom? For him. So that he's not sleeping on the couch anymore. He can make it his own and have somewhere to be himself and enjoy his video games or whatever he wants."

She smiled at Simon's change of heart. Knowing he wouldn't admit it, she knew that Baler had grown onto him as well as Simon taking pride in how he and Kiera managed to keep him on a promising path of life. Better than how my life was, he thought. I owe it all to her, though. She doesn't know it yet, but she can change anyone for the better...because we want to be better - for her. "I think that's a great idea, babe. So now, I need to go and find him stuff for his new bedroom." She giggled, taking her pen and scribbling down the basics: a bed frame, mattress, sheets, and possibly a nightstand if she couldn't wrangle anything her mom kept from Kiera's childhood.

"Don't think too hard on that, love. I've got most of that covered."

"What do you mean?"

"I talked to your mum about it first," He shrugged. "Not because I didn't want to talk to you about it first, but I kind of asked her for advice about it after what we decided to do for him. She said there's a guest bedroom in the lodge that she's been begging your father to clean out for decades. She said we could have all of that stuff in there because she wants to turn it into some hobby room."

"Really?"

Simon nodded, "I told her I'd have Soap and Kyle help me take it all out and bring it to the house and let you decorate it since you're better in that department." He chuckled.

She couldn't help but smile brightly, loving how he always managed to make things work. "I figured you'd want to decorate it." She giggled.

"Love, if I did, it would look like a direct copy and paste of the barracks. You've seen my flat - nothing but the basics. Barely even that."

"You're probably right," She shook her head. "Now, we have bigger fish to fry. We lost Soap and Price somewhere in here and I still have some shopping to do. Can you go find them while I'm getting everything?"

"You should've known better to leave Soap unattended in a Wal-Mart," He scoffed. "He probably got stuck in the Lou for all we know."

"Well, would you rather me go looking for him or you find him?" She arched a brow.

"I'd prefer you not. Go smell all of those wax melts you're not going to buy, and I'll know where to find you." He poked, knowing that she always made her way to the candle and home decor aisles to satisfy her desires of smelling every wax melt on display.

"You just aim to make me mad, don't you?" She giggled.

"I'm always pleased to push your buttons, love. Besides, I've learned a thing or two from your father. Why do you think he hates grocery shopping with your mum?"

"Why?"

"Because she does the exact same thing you do," He chuckled. "Takes forever when she can't just get what's on her list and leave. He said he makes her frustrated and stays in the truck because when she's mad, she gets everything on her list and leaves versus if he doesn't, he knows he'll be here for three hours."

"Sounds like him," Kiera scoffed. "Then why do you still come with me?"

He sighed, "Well, knowing you, I'm uncapable of leaving you alone."

His reply made her brow arch - a hateful glare - and he couldn't help but laugh, "As much as I hate coming into heavily populated places like this, I'd gladly walk around with you to smell every bloody candle because it makes you happy. That's all I care about."

"You saved yourself real quick with that one, babe." She giggled.

He knew that she understood his words as truthful, but he couldn't help but continue to poke at her even more - something he always loved to do. "I know. Couldn't risk sleeping outside with it being that cold right now. Although sleeping on the couch wouldn't be so bad, either."

"Shut up, Simon!" She laughed, playfully smacking his bicep. "Go find Soap and leave me to smell my candles in peace. I want to get home to my babies."

"You and me both, love. Makes me jealous that they're being spoiled by your mum and wrapped in a warm blanket in front of their fireplace."

"I know," She sighed. "My mom spoiled the shit out of me when I was growing up."

"I can tell."

Another hateful, yet playful glare. He couldn't help but smile, "Go. Find. Soap."

"Okay," He chuckled, leaning towards her to press a kiss to her lips. He didn't care if anyone saw him kiss her - he'd do it again if it meant they left them alone. "I'll know where to find you."

"Don't be so sure about that." She smirked, watching him walk away to purposely go towards the pet department, feeling like Kimber and Church deserved more treats and toys for Christmas as she saw her pets as children of her own. I finally have a family of my own, she smiled to herself, vowing everything she had been through was "worth it" as if she didn't accept to join Alejandro on his search for Hassan, she would have never met Simon.

With his first area of searching for Soap and Price being towards the back of the store, he nearly stopped in his tracks when Soap's prominent facial features caused him to look to the right, seeing his brother in arms leaning against a glass case of diamond rings. "Shite, I'm glad Kiera and I didn't bet on where you'd be," Simon began to taunt. "I would've lost some money."

"What're you talking about?" Soap scoffed.

"She thought you'd be close to the ladies department and I thought you'd be stuck in the Lou. She was close to winning a hundred dollars."

Soap shook his head, sincerely enjoying how Simon could poke at him out of negative thoughts as he looked at the more affordable rings they had on display. He wanted to make it special, but he suddenly regretted blowing through a lot of his money in his younger years as well as spending a lot of his savings to be able to move from a different country just because he was in love. Steamin' Jesus, Johnny, can't even afford a decent ring that she deserves. Why even try? The Seargent scolded himself. He felt Simon's presence close in on him, not wanting to be poked and pried any longer, but a part of him felt that their brotherly bickering would be enough to hoist him out of his negative thoughts. "Well, you should tell her I was in the bathroom, then you would've won a hundred bucks. Must be nice." He frowned.

"Hey, what's eating at you?"

"It's stupid."

"Probably, but it's worth talking about."

He knew Simon wasn't serious. Just a part of that cold bloke's personality, Soap thought. He shook his head, fighting the bravery that came with admitting his problems. Why is it fucking easier to say I accidently blew up the wrong compound instead of saying I can't afford a nice ring for my girl? "I'm trying to find a ring for Teeter."

Simon shrugged, furrowing his brows, "I thought you already found one?"

"Yeah, I did, but I couldn't afford it, so I have to look somewhere else. I was really wanting to propose before the New Year and make it special for her, but I'm afraid I'll have to plan it out better because if I don't have a good ring, she won't think it's special."

"That's where you're wrong, mate."

"Easy for you to say," Soap arched his brow. "Spending fourteen-thousand on a diamond ring and proposing the way you did? I would've said yes if I was in Kiera's shoes." Fuck, that came out wrong. I know he's gonna mention it...

Simon was taken aback, "First of all, I think after I found out that you accidentally railed a man at a bar in Mexico and how I teased you for being in love with me, I think you just admitted it. But, since it's almost Christmas, I'm not going to beat your brains in." (Author's Note: Refer to the Across the Pond chapter for context!)

"You know what I meant, Simon." Soap sighed.

"I'm going to attempt at knowing what you mean," He scoffed. "And unlike you, I didn't have the time or the energy to go out and spend my money when I was younger. Until Kiera came along, the only expensive thing I bought for myself was my car because I wanted something to enjoy-"

"Yeah, and that car is at least seventy grand that you had laying around to spend on," Soap arched a brow. This is gonna be hard to admit. Fuck it, he thought before continuing his sentence. "I envy you, Simon. You have a nice car, a good woman, two kids of your own - about to be a third. I want what you have. I just hate I wasn't smart with my money when I was younger and using most of my bloody savings to move over here when I should've waited-"

"Hold on, Johnny," Simon cut him off. "The only thing I have with my money is my car. I didn't have to buy Kiera a ring just to keep her. You know something?"

"Hm?"

"She didn't even look at the ring until after I put it on her finger. She loved me for me, not because of what I could give or how much money I had. Teeter is the same way - she won't give a shit if you proposed with a ring from here or nothing at all. She loves you and I'm sure you could start a family with her when you two are ready. Kiera and I weren't ready to start a family when she got pregnant, but we didn't give up on it either. Do I think I should've been more careful in the beginning? Yeah, but I don't regret it."

"You know, for a man with a cold heart you sure have wise words to give to a friend."

Simon shrugged, "Don't get used to it, Johnny. I give out advice when I think I should."

Soap chuckled, "Well, since you're giving out advice, what ring do you think she'd like?"

"Well, I don't know Teeter that much and I'm not a woman, so I don't know."

"That advice went straight to shit..."

"You're telling me. I told you not to get used to it."

"What ring did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking this one, but I think it's too big for something she'd want to wear." He sighed.

"I ask again: what ring did you have in mind?"

"I really wanted the one Kiera helped me pick out at that store, but I can't afford it. That ring was like five grand and I only have about two grand that I've saved up to pay towards it without going under. It's the only green light I've given myself recently."

"Well, remind me to make a stop on the way back to the ranch." Simon replied, patting Soap's shoulder.

"Wait, wha-?" Soap cocked his head, watching Simon begin to take steps towards where he knew he could find Price - in the alcohol section.

"No more green lights, Johnny. Go meet Kiera where the candles are and I'll regroup."

Soap huffed, knowing arguing with Simon was always a lost battle. Has he always been up to this? How does Kiera even deal with it? Fuck, I don't know.

Once Soap found where Simon assumed Kiera would be, he furrowed his brows as the only person he saw was a man pressing his nose against a wax melt, the men awkwardly making eye contact as if the man were saying: "You didn't see this."

Pulling out his phone, he tried calling her, only to get no answer. Huffing, he then called Simon's phone, hearing it ring three times before he answered:

"Get lost already?" Simon answered.

"No... I can't find her."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. I even tried calling her."

"Great idea, because I figured you would've yelled across the store for her." Simon retorted, rolling his eyes at his own sarcasm.

"I didn't think of that!" Soap gasped before pulling his phone away from his face. "KIERA!"

Simon shook his head, hanging up the phone as he heard Soap's exclaim across the store when he met with Price, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and vowing that he'd swear he didn't know Soap if they got questioned about it.

"That's one way of searching for someone." Price commented, tucking the bottle of wine under his arm and joining Simon as they began walking towards the front of the store.

"You know, I sincerely wonder how the fuck he climbed to his rank."

Price chuckled, "I wonder that too, but he's good at it."

"Yeah, and good about running that sarcastic geezer of his."

"You know you love him." He chuckled, patting his shoulder as they walked side-by-side.

"Well, his version of love and my version of love are two different things, old man."

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x oc #callofduty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x og female #simon riley ghost #simon riley call of duty #ghost simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley x og female #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction

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naritaren · 2 years

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I know I should hit up another craft show next weekend, but I've been doing them every weekend for the last month and I'm tired. Here is a run down of what goes into it. Yesterday: I spent 3 hours sorting items, checking my point of sale system versus my online store, counting stock, and checking for any imperfections. Then, we had to haul shit to the car and drive 30 minutes away to set up. When we got there, we realized that they gave us a large booth by mistake and we could bring more shit that we didn't bring the first time. Today: I was up at 6am and had to hustle to pack up what was left and then haul that to the car. We had to wrangle the dog and shove her in her kennel so we could be there for set up. Set up was from 7am to 9am. We left around 7am. We didn't stop for food or coffee because the roads aren't great so we wanted to just make it safely. We get there at 7:45 and we have to haul shit out of the car and into the venue and to the booth. While my partner is parking the car in the back, I'm starting to set things up and make an attempt at making things look good. He finally shows up and redos the whole table because I'm *bad* at this. While he's fixing my mess, I'm setting up displays, making sure the point of sale system is working, and putting up my signs. At 9am, everything starts. This is where I have to start hawking my shit. I have to put on my "normal person" mask the whole day and do my best to be a retailer. This is a good time to note that I worked retail once, while in college, and I took the food service route for my minimum wage job in high school. So selling shit? Not easy for me and my tism. I *finally* got to eat something at noon. I'm sitting there chugging energy drinks and crocheting, stopping to explain my process and show off things. This goes until 3pm. We then have to tear everything down, fetch the car, haul shit to the car, and head home. Once we're home, we have to haul some of the shit inside (the tote with the money box and the technology bag) and then I have to sit down on my computer and cross reference my sales report with my online shop to take out anything that sold during the day. I also have to look over what I earned and figure out what supplies I need to buy to prepare for the next show. I also have to count my cash box and take out the excess and take it to the bank on Monday. It's 6pm and I just finished everything related to the show that I'm going to do today (still need to order some stuff) and I haven't eaten since noon. I squeezed a shower in between hauling shit in and doing the numbers shit. I'm tired and I don't currently have a show booked for next weekend. I know reasonably I should get one so that I can make bank on the holiday rush, but I have a show on the 17th and I would like one fucking weekend to celebrate my birthday. Next weekend is the weekend before my birthday so I think I'm taking it off to relax.

As a bonus, here is what my booth looked like once my partner got done organizing things. I made a decent amount today and was able to get a big yarn order ordered and a proper display rack that spins with what I earned. Plus a little extra for whatever. I'm going to have an edible, watch opening night of lacrosse, and eat some pork fried rice that my partner is cooking up. Maybe nooj afterwards.

#chatty cassie #tw weed mention #tw food mention #i should buy new sneakers or fucking find my pumas #because the trendy adidas sneakers I bought earlier this year fucking pinch my toes

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mediciean · 1 day

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UNDERESTIMATE chapter 1

"Go ahead and clock out, Esmé, I'll take care of this", Mrs Jones says, coming from behind me to grab the rag that I was using to scrub the crumbs off the counter. I smiled warmly back at her and nodded with a tired sigh escaping my nose.

No tired would be understatement. I was exhausted beyond my mind. Getting a job at a coffee shop, I had thought I would finally get my mind off things. But it seems that the faster life style of signing off coffees and baking croissants only signaled to my brain to catch up.

I pack up my little belongings in my tote bag before checking my cellphone. Thankfully it wasn't too late, the last thing I wanted was to be too tired for my first day of senior year. I state a quick goodbye to Mrs Jones before rushing to my car in the front parking lot and turning the key to the ignition.

This summer had to be the hardest time of my life. Ever since I moved in with the dad it seemed as if everything was dull and slow. That's part of the reason why I decided to get a job, but also because I was tired of hearing dad talk about getting "therapy". The last thing I needed was to talk to a shrink.

Honestly, I'm fine. I don't even think about the incident anymore, why would I need to talk about it?

"Esmé?", I hear as I walk through the front door and place my keys on the rack, "Is that you?".

"Yeah", I call back, shuffling off my coat. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling and as I lift my head I could see my step mother with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Isn't it awfully late to still be out, sweetheart?".

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, "I thought I told you not to call me that Angelica. I had a late shift". It wasn't even that late but I guess a teenager staying past 8 was taboo around this place. I walk past Angelica who let out a breath of air behind me. I found my way to the kitchen where I grabbed a cold water bottle before turning to go to my new room.

That is until I'm interrupted by my father who stood behind me with his arms crossed. I jump in surprise.

"Geez dad!".

Just like his wife, I thought to myself.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?".

"Uh", I look down at my phone, "10:45?".

"Exactly", states the darkskin man who scowls at my response, "Esmé I know you're new to this but I thought I told you not to be out when the streetlights are on".

"I wasn't trying to but my coworker left early so I took her shift. I didn't think it would be a big deal".

"A big deal? Anything can happened to you out there! You can't just stay out till the crack of dawn without letting anyone know".

The urge to roll my eyes was really dawning on me, "Well I tried to call you dad but you didn't answer".

He replies, "I thought I told you that if I'm at work to call Angelica".

"Why would I do that? It's not like she'd answer, she's too busy getting her hair and nails done", I state as I crack open the water bottle and throw the cold liquid into my mouth.

"Esmé! Watch your mouth".

"Look I'm sorry okay? It won't happen again", I groan as I move past the older man to the stairs.

"It better not! I'm expecting better from you Esmé. Remember to be up by 6 tomorrow!".

"Yeah whatever", I mumble to myself as I make it to the last step before getting to the second floor and walking to my bedroom.

He acts as if I'm a baby, like I can't take care of myself. It was so frustrating! Especially since he never treats Angelica's kids this way. Once I moved in it felt as if I was this weird situation that they're all hoping they can solve so I can get out of their hair.

I tried to clear my mind by taking a shower, washing my dyed red locs before tying them up and exfoliating my body. When I had finished and lotion my entire body, I smelled like honey and coco butter.

But even then when I lie in my freshly washed sheets and looked up at the white painted ceiling I still had that feeling. It was unexplainable. Not numb but not fulfilled either. I didn't know what it was.

By the time I dozed off it was meaningless sleep that had went and gone. I'm awoken by my loud alarm that I quickly grab and slam it on the counter to shut off.

My eyes swiftly close again to go back asleep. Until I hear a loud bang at my door.

"Esmé! Open up!".

No one but Justin. Justin is my unofficial my step brother but it wasn't like we ever talked. He stayed his way and I stayed in mine. I'm pretty sure the only time he said two words to me is when I moved in and he asked me to return his game system since my room was his old room.

So the fact that he was banging on my door at 6 in the morning was a shock.

Displeased, I grumble and wrap my body with my blanket and make my way to the door. I unlock it before flipping it open and looking up at the 18 year old teen, "Yes?".

Justin walks past me without a second thought, "Melanie is taking too long in the bathroom".

"Uh—okay", I reply bewildered by the weird interaction. Not a second later I hear my shower turn on and the sounds of ASAP Rocky fill the room.

I hate that kind of music.

"Good morning to you too!", I shout annoyed, "Jerk".

Well while he's in there I might as well get dressed. First days meant first impressions. And not just any first impressions. Good first impressions.

I'm sure everyone had heard about the incident by now, let's just say our town was small enough where words spread around fast.

I bend down and find some clothes from my suitcase. I'm not sure why I haven't unpacked everything. A part of me hopes that maybe if I keep my things away it'll be easier to take them back to my real home.

When I'm tying my shoes is when Justin returns from the bathroom, wearing an all white shirt and baggy capris with brown Jordan's. His hair was defined and curly and he was spraying on some cologne as he walked in my room.

I ignore him, grabbing a hair tie from the drawer and tying my locs up in a half up half down style.

"I'm not a jerk", he grumbles.

"What?", I ask, turning to him with furrowed eyebrows.

"You called me a jerk? I'm not. I just don't like you", he states before walking out my room, slamming the door behind him.

"Yeah well.. ditto!", I yell back but it was hopeless he was probably already downstairs.

So what?! I didn't like any of them either. They act like just because they have money they can walk around like they own the world.

Well it's not going to work on me. I dust off my pants before opening the door and walking downstairs.

I'm met with the sight of Justin playing with his basketball on the couch, Melanie looking at herself in the mirror and Angelica working on something in the kitchen.

"Oh good morning Esmé!", Angelica chirps as I walk in the kitchen, a spatula in her hand and a mitten in her other, "Care for a waffle? Pancake?".

"No thanks", I dismiss her and instead grab a water bottle from the fridge and a granola bar from the pantry. As I'm eating the oats and chocolate my dad comes down the stairs fiddling with his tie.

"Okay kiddos! First day of school!", he states overly excited, "Now I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. Make sure your phones are charged and you have your schedules".

"Dad we're not 4", Melanie giggles from her place in front of the mirror, fixing her loc that fell in front of her face.

Dad.. it sounds weird coming out of her mouth. I supposed I'm used to dad being well my dad. Me and Eli's dad. I'm not used to hearing the sound of that word coming from someone else's mouth to reference my father.

"Well I know that honey but I just want you guys to stay safe".

I grab my bag, ready to leave this house but when I go to grab my keys they're nowhere to be found, "Where are my keys?", I exclaim.

"After your little stunt last night I thought you needed a little break from the car", Dad replies with a cross of his arms.

My mouth drops, seriously?! He can't just do that, "Wh-what about work?".

"Justin can drive you. Right Justin?".

Justin waves him off, "Sure. Whatever".

"Great", states dad as he walks into the kitchen and comes behind Angelica.

I watch as he grabs behind her causing her to squeal and tell him to knock it off with a laugh, "Oh hush you know you love it", he chuckles as he kisses her neck.

Angelica smiles brightly, turning around and fixing the older man's tie, "When do you think you'll be back?".

"Around 5".

"That's a bit early don't you think?".

"I told you I'd start taking some shifts off.. remember what we talked about?". And from the way their eyes darted towards me before flipping back towards each other I could tell that whatever they talked about involved the name 'Esmé'.

"Okay kiddos! It's 6:50, let's rock and roll", dad announces, grabbing his brief case and giving Angelica a kiss-goodbye.

Melanie, Justin, and I all made our way to the front door. Dad gave Melanie a kiss on the forehead before dapping up Justin then finally moving towards me.

He tried to give me a hug but I stop him with a shake of my head and follow the other two out the door.

We made it to Justin's red convertible, Melanie starting to open the door to the passenger side but Justin stops her before she can.

"Mel get in the back".

The young girl looks up at him with puffy cheeks, "What why?".

"Oldest are in the front remember? Dad's rule".

"That rule is stupid we don't even follow it half the time".

"Doesn't matter", Justin states with a shake of his head, "You're the youngest".

"That's not fair! I'm only a year younger than you two—".

I watched between the siblings the argument unfold before I decided to cut them off, "I can sit in the back", I open the door and slide inside.

Justin and Melanie look at each other before Melanie smirks and opens the passenger door.

"Whatever", Justin grumbles as he slides inside his car and turns on the ignition.

The entire ride I popped my headphones in and listen to some gospel music instead of the weird rap Justin had on. It distracted me as we drove to the school. Melanie sprayed about a thousand tons of perfume on, claiming it was for her boyfriend or her crush or something— I spaced out half the time. Whatever it was it was burning my nose.

See Melanie was everything I hated in girls my age, she was loud, obnoxious and only cared about her looks. She never focused on school so how she was still in it surprised me. The fact that I had to call her my step sister was something I don't ever think I'll be used to. But I had to admit she was one of the most prettiest girls at our school.

Even before dad met Angelica I knew who Melanie was. Her brown locs, light skin, and deep brown eyes held the attention of many guys. She always dressed in luxury brands and smelled sweet like cotton candy, now I can see why since she sprays so much of it on at 7 in the morning.

"We're here", Justin states, opening his door and slamming it close.

What is with him and slamming doors?

I fix my backpack over my shoulder before opening my door, watching as Melanie already huddles up with her clique and they walk towards the entrance of the school.

"Lincoln High school oh how I've missed you", I groan sarcastically as I shut the door behind me and make my way through the crowds of bystanders.

Our schedules are given to us via email so my face was burrowed in my phone as the bell rang. I look up and see the number to my first class and a smile paints my face as I walk a little faster.

But just as I need one more step to reach the door suddenly a body slams into mine. My feet lose their footing as my arms swing back and forth as I fall to the ground with a loud THUD.

"Ouch..", I grumble, rubbing my back as my face meet with the other body. But as my eyes meet one blue eye and and one brown, they suddenly widen.

"Tristan?".

The boy looks at me in shock but he quickly masks it and shakes his head, lifting to his feet. "Why don't you watch where you're going?".

He scowls before turning around and opening the door to the classroom I was trying to get to. I sat there confused, feeling all types of eyes on me. Some laughing. Some looking at me like I was crazy. I managed to find the strength to raise to my feet and hold my tears back.

"Ah Miss Poverly, so happy to see you decided to join us", states the teacher, Mr Alfonso, who had an aggravated grin on his face. I meet eyes with Tristan who was all the way in the back but once he sees me another scowl fall on his face and he looks down at the paper on his desk.

A few memeber of the class snicker as I find my assigned seat and immediately put my head down.

So much for good first impressions.

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tazkittiesadventures · 10 months

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The beginning of the Rabbit Hole

Hello everyone.

Come follow along the rabbit 🐇 hole and the adventure begin.

This is baby girl (I have not officially named her yet); she is about to get outfitted for her Overlanding expeditions. We finally got the last piece we needed to begin the buildup. It's funny how the first piece of equipment we ordered was the last to arrive. There were some issues with the shipping on the company's side. In the end, they got it to us.

In the pictures, you see her just stock. No added extras, just straight off the showroom floor (well three years ago when we bought her). She is a beautiful ride. I just fell in love with that army green color. She is my third one. I did have a black one, swapped it in for a gray one and the dealership wanted to do a buy back again on that one, I was like no, no no....that is how we ended up with the gray one. You know, things just happen and me a Taz went to see what they had to offer....three hours later Taz and I and baby girl drove off the lot. It was that army green. It just stole my heart.

For three years I didn't know what to do with her. I kept saying that the only dirt she is going to see is off the roadway. Then in October (the day was the 21st 2023) we took Taz's and Dwights car to Mopar's on the Beach event. They went walking around and I stayed at the car when Taz came back and said there was something I needed to see.

Well, let's just say that what I needed to see was a rabbit 🐇 hole opening up. There was this jeep there that had a built-on awning, she had it opened up and it was so cool. I was like, I want that on my runner, Taz told me they do make them, and the rabbit 🐇 hole opened up and swallowed us both up.

So, to do the awning for my 4Runner you have to replace the roof rack. The search began. looking at any and all available roof racks for the awning that we both agreed to.

Oh yes that one right there, I really like that awning, it goes all the way around the vehicle. it will go good with the new tent you won at an auction for the car show you went to (on October 28, 2023). Did we need the new tent. NO, no we did not. We have a perfectly good 5th wheel camper, and we also have an (old, old) tent. We take it with us in the camper just in case. Now we have this new 6-person tent that we can put in the 4Runner to use with the awning.

Just a little FYI about Taz and me. We are campers. We can go tent camping to 5th wheel camper camping. Either way is good for us. The rv is stocked and ready (other than food and clothes) and the old tent, well that is ready also. We keep everything in totes. Grab the tent tote and the tote that goes with the tent that holds the Coleman stove and pots and pans, etc. and off we go. The only thing about tent camping that I don't really like is when it rains, water usually seeps up from the ground. I grew up camping and fishing and the outdoors. So many memories come rushing back, wait...now I am rambling and getting off topic. OOOPs 🤣🤣🤣😁

Back to the rabbi🐇t hole. Out of nowhere Taz sends me a link to a roof top tent. I was like what is that? and he was like a roof top ten, check it out. Ok little rabbits, keep digging in that hole. We set together over several days and look at all the different website, watch many different YouTube videos of the tents and came across the one we both really like. Dang nab it black Friday sales.

🐰Roof rack ordered Nov 3rd 2023 ---- check ---- level one of the rabbit hole.

🐰Awning ordered Nov 4th 2023 --- check --- Level two of the rabbit hole.

🐰Roof top tent ordered (surprise from Taz) Nov 6th --- check -- Level three of the rabbit hole.

The installation will begin over Thanksgiving. I will post more pictures and show you how she is coming along.

Stay tuned as the 🐰rabbit hole gets deeper and deeper. We have many other plans for her. BTW -- I called my daughter "Little Pooh" and told her I am spending her inheritance. 😂😂 She said ok mom....have fun. ❤️😘

Kittie & Taz

#rabbit hole#overlanding#4runner

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hdmolan · 2 years

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* ╱ ʀʏᴜ ᴍᴏʟᴀɴ ♥︎ 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆? 𝑷𝒕. 𝑰𝑰 * ╱ ♥︎ 𝟔𝟎𝟖 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝟑,𝟑𝟖𝟏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. : 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, 𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒉��𝒊, 𝑨𝒉𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏, 𝑮𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌

Her makeup was nearly finished when her artist had to step away for a call. She took a break from admiring herself in the mirror to scan the room and somewhat pulse check — Sumin sat directly behind Molan but in the opposite direction, so she couldn’t see Molan's attempts to get her attention. She chuckled at Gabrielle, seeming annoyed, as she was scrolling on her phone while her makeup artist moved exceptionally slowly. Sienna and Ahri sat at her immediate right and left. Waving and blowing kisses to them both as they’re getting worked on, admiring their makeup.

Molan noticed the photographers taking test shots and directors checking the lighting; she knew it was almost time. The labels high-tech robo-hounds came in to bring the girls dressing racks. “Oh yes, honey,” Molan whispered as she opened her rack chest to find designer garments. All appeared to be off the runway, and this excited her even more. Each outfit had a paper tab displaying which look it was meant to be worn for. As Esteban returned to her, the two of them swooned over the selections chosen for Molan to wear. It just so happened that Molan was the first up for the beginning shoot. Her first outfit was a gorgeous Roberto Cavalli heart-shaped pleated bell gown that she felt regal in. Getting her bob freshly bumped before stepping in front of the lens - Molan softly swiped her hair behind her left ear and fell into a soft yet commanding pose. The photographer screamed from behind the camera, “YES, that’s it!” It was all she needed to power through this day. Subtly striking new post after pose, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful and blessed to be living her dream.

All the girls were not in the scenes the label had put together. After Molan finished her first shoot, it was a little ways before the next up, and she had a moment to ‘relax’ on the side. That stopped when one of the cameramen approached Molan for the B-role. He instructed her to be herself but show off the dress — Molan took no time to provide just that. Sharing soft, pointed looks with the camera, she wished she could do this every day.

The next shoot and sequence were swiftly coming up, and Molan had to change clothes. She cutely squealed and jumped in excitement when she saw she was wearing the new Chanel three-piece fit and matching mules - and was expected to walk the runway. Moments such as these she dreamed of as a child. She went a step further in her excitement by adding a diamond Chanel knuckle ring and some Chanel double c broaches to her blazer - she felt they complemented the Chanel glasses that some of the girls were all wearing. The girls changed looks a few other times as well; one of the looks was added to Molans’ favorites - a fitted black mini skirt paired with a custom ‘boyfriend-sized’ white collar shirt, all Chanel. Molan strutted down the runway, as the day almost wrapped up, once more in this outfit - this time wearing a white and black Chanel hobo bag with french baguettes in them. It must be the director's humor?

The day had ended, and the girls were worn out from being pinned, pulled, and photographed all day. Molan had zipped her cropped hoodie and stuffed a muffin in her mouth as she grabbed her tote and headed toward the exit. She kissed Esteban on the cheek on her way out, “Same time tomorrow, babes?”��the laughter of the two fades down the hallway.

#ᴍ��ᴏʟᴏꜱ 💎#hd:events #hd:ggd

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goldilockswrites · 3 years

Text

A Jar Of Stars

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Pairing: Thomas Raggi x Reader (she/her)

Requested: Yes (by the absolutely amazing @hiraetheral)

Summary: Thomas comforts his girlfriend after her eating disorder gets out of hand once again.

Warnings: Mentions of eating disorders

A/N: I want to make this very clear once again! This story contains mentions of ED, if you think this will trigger you, please don’t read. There’s plenty of other Thom/Maneskin fics on here and all over Tumblr, that you can enjoy. Now to anyone who has decided to read regardless, please know that an ED won’t make you appear any more interesting or lovable, I am writing this as it’s something I am struggling with right now and needed some comfort. Please, if you have/had an ED know you aren’t alone! (Just so you guys know, i haven’t proofread this, so if you notice any mistakes feel free to notify me :) )

Sending you all the love,

Axe <3

Tags: @wasteddoubts @teenyweenynightghost @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @cheese-toastie-11 @unitersmoonshine @selenophiliaxx @mywritingonlyfans @l0standn0tf0und (if you’d like to be removed from the tags feel free to tell me :) )

Add yourself to my taglist - Check out my other stories

╚═════ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ══════╝

A single light bulb, bottom screwed tightly onto the golden socket, emitted its gloomy lustre into the foyer. The black canvas tote bag landed on the ash floor; the perfume bottle, poetry compilation magazines and wallet inside of it hitting the ground with a loud thump.

Clamorous, London bubbled outside the white window. Scratched-up glass giving the view of the concrete jungle swallowing people whole. Y/N’s October orbs lingered upon the windowsill; a checkered shirt and a half-smoked pack of Red Marlboro’s. The fabric felt soft against her fingertips; a meadow filled with dandelions bathing in the honey sunlight. Bourbon, Orange Flower and Amber invading her nostrils.

Gas flame-coloured sweater dropped next to the discarded items. Body - bones jutting out, hair - dull and thin. Y/N caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror that stood by the Alder front door. Bitter tears streamed down her face, Rhône and Arve confluencing on her neck. She felt all the little bacterias in her stomach fighting over the toast and scrambled eggs she had for breakfast.

Awareness. She grew aware of every small organism in her; how they breathed, drank, ate. The overwhelming realization that she in fact was a home to much more than just a skeleton and a few organs made her breathing rapid. The click of an argent lighter and the taste of campfire mixed with chemicals - the only escape.

- Amore, I’m back! - Voice, as delicate as the autumn breeze; the perfect balance between summer-hearth and winter-sun. Thomas swiftly untied his shoelaces, leather boots now sitting on the metall rack; sock-covered feet scurried against the floor, with gentle thuds.

- Hi, baby! - Y/N giggled as the boy planted an abundance of macaron pecks all over her face; his copper hair tickling her neck. His slender fingers wrapped around the coffin nail, lips embracing the white stick, right where the scarlet marks of the girl’s lipstick were. After he exhaled, smoke spread around the air; little clouds slowly evaporated; the cigarette found its place back against the woman’s tongue.

- I got us some Amatriciana. Oh, and I went to that little bakery at the corner to get us some of those biscuits you like. - Just then the chestnut-haired girl spotted the teal bag on the coffee table.

- Thank you, love, but I am not really hungry. - The lie stung like a cicada killer on the apple of her rosy cheek.

The same sentence, just a different month. Thomas looked at Y/N's face and it broke him to recall how it once was. Her eyes used to remind him of hot cocoa and whipped cream; the scent of freshly baked sugar cookies and firewood, but now - they were blank. Now her once soft skin was stretched over her skull. Just eighteen and she had health as fragile as the one of someone who was eighty or more, her organs packing up one by one. He remembered how a year ago upon seeing him she turned her face to the hospital window, her pointed way of showing anger at herself, at the sunlight, at her brain. The only reason she didn't rip the tubes away was because doing so resulted in being strapped to the bed. "Anorexic" hardly seemed a big enough word to describe what had become of the love of his life.

A pair of warm arms sneaked around her waist once more.

- Why, amore? Why? - The dams behind Y/N’s eyes broke open, a new flow of tears making her collar bones glisten.

- Please, don’t leave me! - Her voice was on the brink, almost as if there was a blade pressed against her throat.

- Love, I would never. - A human shield embrace. He was there with her; for her. His choice was clear; it was the brunette girl.

Long, nude nails scratched up and down the exposed skin of her left wrist. She was anxious. The boy picked up on what was going on.

- Amore, stop doing that! You’ll hurt yourself! - Thomas’ hand stopped Y/N’s, lifting it up to his lips, placing wet kisses against the plastic-like skin. - C’mon. I’ll put on a movie and we’ll cuddle. And if you want to then we can talk.

***

The pieces of her torn heart that had been struggling to fit into this world, screaming to be accepted became quiet as she cuddled with him; it was as if they had found peace, as if they needed him to bridge their gaps and connect. The lilac blanket brought additional warmth to the couple. Y/N’s eyes fell to the jar full of star-shaped glitter.

- I want to change. I will go talk to the therapist tomorrow. - The guitarist knew what she meant. Small wrinkles formed by his eyes as he smiled.

- That’s great news, amore. That’s great news. - A kiss was planted against the top of her head.

***

The lake in lustrous indigo and verdant, an enthusiastic canvas for leaden mountain tops, sprinkled with powdered sugar-like snow and saxe skies, brought its own artistic watercolour effect to the daytime. His kiss was steeped in a passion that ignites. It was the promise of realness.

- I don’t want you to go. - Truth broke through the silence, like a hammer through an ice statue.

- I don’t want to go either. - He let her nuzzle closer to him.

- I’m scared. - Razors tracing over skin.

- I know. But I promise, I’ll keep your heart safe. - Fifteen. He had repeated the same thing fifteen times already, and he’d do it a thousand more for her.

- What if you don’t? I mean what if you fade away and then I am left with your name popping up every time I type a “T”, or our pictures in my gallery and your voice in my recordings and… - The same fear that riddled her eating habits, that got her to be in a hospital until two days ago, now sprinkled on her picture perfect relationship, because she was scared it almost seemed too perfect.

- No. I am not going anywhere. I will chase you to the moon and back, if I have to. - Words much more than a promise. - Actually… - A jar of shiny stars covered in golden foil was pushed into her palms. - Here. According to the Japanese, when you fold lucky stars and give them to your loved ones, only good will follow them, love and change.

- Thank you. - Y/N tucked a fallen strand of blond hair behind his ear. - I love you. - But she knew no words could convey what she actually felt inside; a hushed feeling that had become a part of the oxygen she needed to breathe.

- I love you, too.

#thomas raggi #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fanfiction #maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfic

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part II (x reader)

Summary: Spencer and reader spend a lot of time together. And then he spends some time away.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: typical CM violence, Spencer gets hurt but there’s no graphic descriptions

Word count: 5k

a/n: This chapter is a little bit of a different style, because it had a lot of ground to cover! So we’ve got a few different vignettes of their first few months together— first dates and sleepovers and Spencer’s first long case away. I also worked some requests into this chapter.

———

Y/N stretched out across the bed, humming and burying her face into the pillow. She sighed and then drew in a deep breath. Her eyes blinked open as she recognized the new scent on her sheets— cedar and spice and a hint of floral.

She moved her hand across the bed to find the sheets were cool, then raised her head to see the room was empty. The apartment was quiet, but the aroma of freshly brewed coffee crept in through the bedroom door left slightly ajar. She ran a hand over her face and reached for her phone on the bedside table, tapped the screen to check the time and saw a missed text from Anita.

Anita: How did it go???????

Y/N: Good! We talked a lot. And he spent the night.

Anita: W H A T

Anita: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Y/N: Calm down. It was just a sleepover. Emphasis on the sleep.

Anita: Sure it was 👀

Anita: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anita: 🍆🍑🍒💦

Y/N: I’m going to mute this thread.

Anita: You’re such a prude!!!!!!!

Anita: But also

Anita: This mf is still on THIN ICE with me

Anita: So tell him to sleep with one eye open

Y/N swiped the message thread to mute the notifications and sat up to drop her legs over the side of the bed. She stood and did a cursory once over in the mirror above her dresser, retrieving the sweater hanging on her closet door and slipping into it. Then she padded to the doorway, pushing the door open and quietly moving into the living room.

Spencer was on the couch, still in her shirt, with a book in one hand and her favorite coffee mug in the other. Roald was curled up in his lap, fast asleep. Spencer turned the page of his book, then brought the mug up to his lips. The simple domesticity had her chest tightening, and she let out a small, contented sigh.

Spencer lifted his head at the sound, a smile stretching across his face as soon as he saw her. “Morning.”

“Morning.” She shuffled toward the couch, and he closed his book. She peered over the couch and gestured to Roald. “I see you’ve got a friend.”

“Indeed. I kind of feel like I can’t leave now.” He looked up with a small crease in his brow. “I made coffee. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she assured with a smile. “Nice mug.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up, but I didn’t want to go through your cabinets,” he explained, looking a little nervous. “This one was on the dish rack, so I figured it was okay to use, but I can—”

“Spencer.” She leaned against the couch and smoothed a hand over his hair, meeting his eyes and smiling gently. “Is there more coffee?”

He nodded and looked down at the cat on his lap. “Yeah, I— I’d get up, but I don’t want to disturb him.”

Y/N laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his hair before retreating to the kitchen. “Oh, of course. We wouldn’t want to disrupt the king.”

…

They spent the morning on the couch, reading quietly and sipping their coffee and trading the occasional smile. She tucked her sock covered toes underneath his thigh as the sunlight crept across the floor. He brought his hand to rest on her knee and turned to the last chapter of his book, and she wondered if he was consciously slowing himself down so that she could attempt to keep up.

Eventually, Roald yawned and stretched across Spencer’s lap, standing and hopping down off the couch in search of food. Spencer ran his hand down Y/N’s leg and circled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing his thumb lightly across the skin. She looked up from her book with a soft smile, wiggling her toes under his thigh.

She closed her book and sat up a little closer to him on the couch. “So. I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” he teased.

“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes, and then her gaze shifted back to him and she chewed a little at the inside of her lip.

No matter how hard she tried to quell it, the idea continued to nag at her subconscious— that even though he’d poured his heart out to her, even though he’d said that he loved her… that somehow she was still building him up in her head, seeing things that weren’t there, and making this into something it wasn’t. She was well aware that getting too comfortable too quickly was a surefire way to scare people off.

“Our tea dates weren’t really dates,” she hedged. “So we haven’t really had a first date.”

He gave her ankle a quick squeeze. “No, I suppose we haven’t.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to think I’m in the habit of inviting men that I’m not dating to spend the night.”

He set his book on the coffee table. “Of course.”

“So, um.” She tilted her head and drew her brows together. She needed to hear it, directly from his perspective. “Are we— do you consider us to be, um.” She closed her eyes. “Are we dating?”

She felt him lean toward her on the couch, felt his warm palm cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking across her skin. She opened her eyes slowly to see him looking at her with a tentative smile. “I hope so,” he breathed.

She barely stopped herself from letting out a relieved sigh, slightly embarrassed to have needed the reassurance. He didn’t seem to notice, instead closing the rest of the distance between them to press a soft kiss to her mouth. Their noses bumped together awkwardly, drawing a laugh from them both.

He withdrew from her mouth, pressed a kiss to her bumped nose, and then sat back a little, considering. “If you’re free today, we could knock ‘first date’ off the checklist.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You have a checklist?”

“Well, a metaphorical one,” he clarified quickly. “I’m not, like, keeping track in a journal or anything.”

She laughed, bright and loud and almost carefree, and then swung her legs over the side of the couch. “What did you have in mind, doctor?”

…

Spencer Reid’s idea of a perfect first date was the Smithsonian National Postal Museum, and it was just about the most Spencer thing Y/N had ever heard.

“I should have put two and two together with the no technology thing,” she surmised.

“I know letters have sort of gone out of fashion with the advent of phones and email, but— letter writing is an art form!” he defended, waving his hands. “And think about how incredible it feels to get something in the mail. You don’t get that same rush with a text message.”

She thought back to receiving a perfectly wrapped package with his handwriting scrawled across the brown paper. “Mm, you do have a point there,” she conceded.

He led her through the exhibits, explaining the various displays with more facts than the placards themselves could ever contain. She watched with a smile as he gestured wildly about with his hands, his eyes wide with the joy of sharing the information— of sharing it with her. She nodded, and mmhmmed, and asked the occasional question. But she was mostly just so unbelievably content to listen to him talk about anything and everything.

He stopped mid-sentence in the Serving the Cities exhibit, dropping his hands and looking at her sheepishly. “Sorry, I— I’m boring you.”

She drew her brows together in genuine confusion. “What? No, you’re not. I’d never heard of the, um— new— no. The— new tubes?”

“New York City's pneumatic tube system,” he offered.

She smiled gratefully. “Yes, the pneumatic tube system. Underground mail tubes moving at 35 miles per hour? That’s kind of amazing.” She shook her head. “Why don’t they use it anymore?”

“The Post Office Department suspended the service to conserve funding during World War I,” he explained automatically. “They restored partial service in 1922, but it eventually just became too costly to continue.” He seemed to catch himself, shaking his head and continuing, “But I— I’m sure it’s all here in the exhibits, I should just let you—”

She grabbed his hand, and he closed his mouth to stifle the rest of his rambling. She used her free hand to gesture around at the displays. “There’s a lot of information here, but to be honest, I— I haven’t really been looking at the placards.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as he stared at her. “I, um— I’d much rather hear it from you.”

She watched his eyes alight with surprise and wonder, and she wanted to personally fight anyone who had ever made him believe that he was boring. He took a step closer, eyes flicking down to her mouth, and her lips twitched up into a smile. He leaned down to meet her halfway in a sweet kiss, mostly just upturned mouths and huffed breaths.

He lingered slightly as he pulled away, still studying her with a little bit of shock. She intertwined their fingers, pressed their shoulders together, and nodded toward the next display. “So, what else can you tell me about the history of the mail system, Dr. Reid?”

The pair of them continued through the museum, their fingers threaded together and Spencer murmuring facts into her ear. They spent three hours walking through the exhibits, pausing here and there to gaze quietly at the details of a particularly interesting display. When they finally completed their circuit, Y/N insisted on visiting the museum gift shop.

There were postage stamp tote bags, mail carrier t-shirts, mailbox ornaments and more— all incredibly overpriced and generally ridiculous and not of interest to either of them. But the stationery display caught her eye— sets of parchment with embossed letterheads, fancy letter openers, and wax stamp kits. She ran her finger over the raised design on one particularly intricate stationery set, and Spencer peered over her shoulder.

“I’ve always enjoyed letter writing. Partly because I tend toward the arcane, but also because it feels… intentional and personal,” he explained. “It takes time, and energy, and care.”

“It’s a very deliberate and lovely way of showing that you care about someone,” she agreed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, smiling softly. “I still write a lot of letters to my mom. When she was still in Vegas and I didn’t see her very often, I wrote the letters because she didn’t always recognize my voice over the phone.”

He drew his brows together and ran his fingers along the top of the stationary display. “Now I write them so that she can have a— a sort of record of my life, I guess. So that hopefully when the memories aren’t there anymore, she can still read them and feel like she’s a part of the story.”

Y/N reached for his hand again, and he accepted it with a bittersweet smile. “We did the same thing for my grandma,” she told him, returning his melancholic smile. “Lots of letters and photos. I never thought of it that way, but it was sort of like keeping her in our stories.”

She turned back to the display and picked up the package of stationery, turning it over in her hands. He gently plucked it from her grip, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “I think you need some nice paper for the next few chapters.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” she started.

He cut her off with a press of his lips. She grasped a little at his waist as he kissed her and wondered if she would ever get used to kissing Spencer Reid. When he finally pulled back, she had to catch her breath.

“I’ll take half,” he murmured. “I was hoping I could, um— help you write them.”

She squeezed his waist gently, heard the chains of insecurity clinking and breaking as he chiseled away at them piece by piece. “I’d like that.”

…

Two weeks later, Y/N convinced him to try painting— specifically, Paint & Sip Night at the art studio around the corner from her apartment.

“I’m going to be terrible at this,” he warned her, looking over his shoulder at where she was tying the strings of his smock.

She tugged the strings around his waist to gently pull him back toward her, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She knotted the strings tight and barely restrained herself from sneaking a little squeeze of his bum— although she did not stop herself from looking.

“It’s not about being good at it. It’s about having fun.” She used her hands on his waist to turn him around. “And if you’re not having fun, then we can go home,” she shrugged.

He smoothed a wrinkle from her smock. “I always have fun with you.” He smiled and scrunched his nose at her, and she returned the nose scrunch with a laugh.

“All right, everyone!” The instructor clapped her hands together. “Are you ready to paint a masterpiece?”

Forty five minutes later, Spencer peered over at her canvas and huffed out a breath. “God, look at that texture. How are you actually good at this?”

Y/N turned and looked at his painting. “Yours looks good, too,” she insisted.

“Michael could— and has, actually— done better than this,” he scoffed.

“Well, I like it.” She tilted her head. “It’s giving me... Monet vibes. It’ll look perfect in my living room.”

“You are not hanging this in your living room,” he laughed.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” she teased, turning back to her work to follow the next instruction.

She watched him as they worked— his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, his fingertips tapping across his thighs in consideration, his huffed breaths here and there when a stroke didn’t look the way he wanted it to. She finished a little bit before him, adding her tiny signature to the bottom of her canvas before standing to move to his side. She slid a gentle hand around his waist and looked over his shoulder at his work.

He sighed and gestured to the corner of his canvas. “This whole section looks… weird.”

She studied it for a moment. “I think maybe it’s just because it’s sort of one note?” She pointed to the rest of the painting. “Like, you played with layering the colors everywhere else. Here it’s just the blue. You could add some purple maybe? Or green,” she mused.

“Yeah, I guess I can try that.” He shrugged and leaned over to the paints, gathering some purple on his brush.

She moved out of his way but rested her chin lightly on his shoulder as he worked. He moved the brush meticulously in small strokes, layering and creating dimension in the corner of the piece. When he finally set the brush down, he leaned his head to rest on top of hers.

“Okay. So it looks much more…” he trailed off.

“Cohesive,” she offered.

She could feel his smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. He lifted his head to look at her. “Seriously, how are you so good at this?”

She moved her chin from his shoulder and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I guess my many years of finger painting experience had to pay off someday.” She nodded to his finished painting. “I don’t know what your going rate is, but I have to have this.”

He swiveled on the stool to capture her hands in his, lacing their fingers together and pulling her in between his legs. “It’s yours.”

She feigned shock. “For free?”

“I didn’t say that,” he corrected with a sly smile. He dropped her hands to bring his own to her hips, pulling her in closer. “But it’s sort of an on-going payment deal. I’m asking at least 30 kisses per month.”

She pressed her lips together to avoid breaking out into an absurd grin. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Take it or leave it. That’s my final offer,” he shrugged.

She pretended to mull it over, lips pursed and eyes on the ceiling. He huffed out a laugh, and she cracked a smile, bringing her fingers up to tangle in his curls. “Deal.”

…

Y/N: I don’t even know if your phone is capable of receiving pictures, but look what I hung today!

Spencer: It receives pictures! I wish I hadn’t received this one though. I cannot believe you actually hung that horrific thing on your wall.

Y/N: I’m going to commission you for a piece for the kitchen ;)

Spencer: You’re hilarious.

Y/N: You love it.

Spencer: I do.

Spencer: I wanted to tell you... I have my first therapy appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Y/N: Spence!!!

Y/N: I am so proud of you. It’s going to change your life.

Spencer: You’ve already done that, Miss Honey.

…

Y/N: How did it go?

Spencer: I cried? A lot.

Y/N: That happens to me, too! Good therapy will do that. Other than the crying, how do you feel?

Spencer: I feel… amazing. Lighter, I think? I’m actually kind of bummed that I have to wait two weeks to do it again.

Y/N: I know I said it already, but I’m so incredibly proud of you.

Spencer: I quite literally would not have done it without you.

Y/N: Happy to give you a little nudge whenever you need it, doctor. <3

...

The BAU’s caseload had been uncharacteristically slow, and the two of them took advantage of every moment. On one particularly gloomy Saturday afternoon, they were sprawled across Spencer’s couch and sipping on their umpteenth cups of coffee. He scribbled notes in the margins of his students’ latest essays, while she typed out her lesson plans for the upcoming week.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him set down his pen. He stifled a sigh and she held back a smile as she typed out a short vowel word chain. She could feel his eyes on her, could practically smell the smoke coming from his overworked brain.

When he didn’t break the silence, she looked up over the top of her laptop. “Can I help you?” she teased.

His cheeks colored with a very pretty flush— the same one she’d pulled from him in the carpool loop all those months ago. “Two of my students just… aren’t getting it.” He gestured to the papers in front of him. “I’ve tried extra office hours, extended time for work completion, and it just— doesn’t seem to be helping.” He looked at her with pursed lips. “I was, um— I was wondering if you had any ideas? That I could try.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “You— you’re asking me for help?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re the best teacher I know.”

Now it was her turn to blush. “Oh. Well, um…” She set her laptop on the coffee table and sat up, considering. “Have you tried differentiating your lectures?” At his raised eyebrow, she continued, “Like— having a PowerPoint or a recorded version that they can revisit? You’re kind of a fast talker, so it’s possible that they’re struggling to retain the information because they can’t keep up with your delivery.”

“Huh.” He tilted his head with a furrowed brow. “I... didn’t consider that my oratory speed could have an impact on student achievement. But of course— that makes total sense.” He gave her a sheepish smile and his best puppy dog eyes. “So… how much coffee do you think you’d require to, um— help me make a PowerPoint?”

She sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “At least another two cups. And one of those peanut butter sandwich cookies from Soho.”

He set the papers aside and leaned over to plant a kiss on her upturned mouth. “I’ll buy you a dozen.”

…

In late May, their luck ran out.

First there was a case in Arizona— brutal and ritualistic murders scattered through the desert with almost no cooling off period. On the eighth day that he was in Phoenix, Y/N’s phone rang on the bedside table. She reached across to pick it up, smiling at his name on the screen.

“Hey,” she answered, moving her computer off her lap and getting comfortable.

“Hi,” Spencer murmured.

“How’s the case going?”

“It’s, um— it’s going okay, actually,” he assessed. “We’ve made a lot of headway in the last twelve hours, and I think we might be narrowing in.”

“That’s great.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

His tone of voice had her sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he insisted, but his tone didn’t shift.

“You don’t sound fine,” she prompted.

“I just—” He blew out a breath, and she could almost hear him running his hand over his face. “I miss you. And maybe that’s weird, because we’ve only been together for seventy four days, but—”

“Spence,” she interrupted. He sighed, and she continued, “It’s not weird. I miss you, too.”

“Eight days isn’t even that long, but I just— I’ve never, um.” The line was quiet for long enough that she almost thought the call had dropped. And then his voice came back, softer than she’d ever heard it. “I’ve never had someone to miss.”

Her heart physically ached for all the time he’d spent without someone to miss— and without someone to miss him, and cherish him, and— well, love him. She still hadn’t said it back. She wanted to say it right then, but it felt wrong to say it for the first time over the phone. And there was still that nagging little fear— of his inevitable reconsideration and rejection— keeping her from pulling the metaphorical trigger.

“Well. I’m happy to fill that position,” she settled on— and hated how inadequate it sounded. She leaned back against the pillows, prepared to make him feel it even if she couldn’t say it. At the very least, she could help him take his mind off the monsters— if only for a few minutes. “Teach me something, doctor.”

He laughed a little through the phone, and she knew her plan was working already.

“Okay,” he started, and she could hear the muffled crinkle of the hotel duvet. “Um— did you know that the Sonoran Desert is the only place in the world where saguaro cacti grow?”

“Wow. No, I didn’t,” she smiled, ready to learn everything there was to know about the giant, prickly plants. “Why is that?”

“Experts believe there are two main factors that limit the cacti from expanding into the Mojave — temperature and rainfall. It’s also possible that...”

...

On his tenth day away, the letter showed up.

Y/N,

I’m writing from the balcony of the hotel room overlooking the desert— well, more so the parking lot of the desert— and I’m reminded of the duality of this landscape. The arid climate and rugged terrain can make it a mercilessly hostile place. Yet at the same time, this environment is one of the most enigmatic and enchanting, and it’s teeming with life if you look close enough.

This job can illuminate the cruelty and brutality of humanity, but it so often reminds me of the resilience and the goodness of people, too. The duality of the desert parallels the duality of man, I suppose.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been out here. I think you’d like it. I’ve thought of another poem that makes me think of you, and of the way that I finally feel like I can breathe.

With thee, in the Desert –

With thee in the thirst –

With thee in the Tamarind wood –

Leopard breathes – at last!

- Emily Dickinson

Love,

Spencer

…

They had barely deplaned after the culmination of the case in Arizona before they were called back out to Colorado, this time for six days. She barely heard from him at all, save for the occasional text, and even then, it was never more than ten words. She spent her waking hours worrying and dreamt the same terrifying dream every single night— being chased until her legs gave out, never sure of what she was running from and never able to slow down.

It was 2:27 in the morning when her phone rang, rousing her from her restless tossing and turning. His name on the caller ID had the worry jumping into her throat, but she answered as calmly as she could.

“Hi.” She yawned into her hand and let out a little sigh.

“Hi.” The tenor of his voice was quiet and weary. “I know it’s unbelievably late—”

She sat up and interrupted, “Are you okay?”

He was quiet for a moment, and her worry intensified. “I, um— I’m… I’m downstairs.”

She turned on the bedside lamp. “Like, right now?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed quietly. “I— I’m sorry. I should have called first before just— showing up at your door.”

She was already climbing out of bed. “No, no, honey, don’t be sorry. I’m coming to buzz you in.”

She shuffled through the dark apartment, fumbled for the intercom to press the buzzer. She could hear his feet on the stairs before she even made it to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and pulling back the chain. As the door swung open, he was rounding the top of the stairs and turning the corner of the landing.

It took him five strides to cross the threshold, and then he was tumbling into her arms and burying his face in her shoulder. The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she recovered quickly, bringing her arms around him and holding him tight.

He didn’t speak, just breathed into her hair and clutched a little desperately at her back. She stroked a soothing hand over his curls and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You’re safe, Spence. I’m right here.”

She shifted her weight slowly back and forth, rocking him gently and petting over his hair, steady and rhythmic. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and let out a shaky breath, and Y/N felt his tears on her skin. She brought both arms around his shoulders then, squeezing him tightly. “I’m right here, honey,” she repeated. “I’m right here.”

He cried quietly into her shoulder as she ran soothing hands over his back. She knew this was more than just missing her— it was the cruelty and brutality of man that he saw every day, the layers of hurt that would probably always be there. But she knew the resilience was there, too. And she was determined to always show him the other half of the chasm of humanity.

After a long while, he pulled back, still sniffling. Y/N reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, sweeping the tears from his cheeks with gentle thumbs. Her heart panged at the way his eyes were shining and ringed red, full of complete exhaustion and raging emotion.

“What do you need?” she asked. “Water, tea, a snack, a shower?”

He shook his head. “Just you,” he mumbled.

She felt the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “You’ve got me. Always.” She pressed one, two, three chaste kisses to his chapped lips. “Let’s get cleaned up and changed and into bed, hm?”

She had him wash his face and brush his teeth, and then she moved him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Close your eyes,” she said softly.

He could barely keep them open as it was, and she didn’t even want to think about how little sleep he’d had over the last three weeks. She cupped his face in her hands for a long moment, rememorizing every curve and angle.

First, she swiped a cotton pad soaked with cucumber toner across the high planes of his cheekbones and along his nose. She allowed it to dry, and then dropped gentle kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Next, she took a dab of moisturizer on the tips of her fingers, rubbing in circular motions along the path her lips had traveled. Finally, she pressed a few drops of her favorite lavender and chamomile face oil onto his cheeks, soothing away the last, damp remnants of agony.

When he opened his eyes again, they were already a little clearer, a little calmer, a little lighter. He let out a long, slow breath and laced their fingers together. She squeezed his hands, and then pulled him up and into her side.

She led him into her bedroom, stripped him out of his cardigan and button-up and trousers, and helped him into the soft, oversized school fundraiser shirt that had become his. And then she took his hands in hers once again and pulled him toward the bed, getting him settled and tucked in on his side before coming around to shut off the bedside light. He whined at the loss of contact, and she shushed him gently as she climbed in next to him.

“C’mere.” She lifted the duvet, and he moved to lay his head on her chest, wrapping his arm around her middle and pulling her impossibly closer. She tucked the covers back around him, and then brought her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

She stroked his hair quietly, listening to his breathing as it evened and slowed. He was asleep in minutes, snuffling gently into her chest. His grip loosened with every breath, and he settled more comfortably against her side with each exhale.

She let the tears she’d been holding back slip over her lash line and pressed a soft kiss into his hair. The faint snores vibrating from his chest muffled her quiet voice as she whispered the trio of words she couldn’t quite bring herself to say in the light of day.

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid @babyhoneystvles

Permanent (sfw) tags: @mrs-dr-reid @eevee0722 @goldentournesol

Series tags: @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @ilzieah @froggybagels @gublersbooblers @matthcwgraygubler @mrs-dr-reid @flklrevrmre @andromedasstarship @reidspurplescarfs @hanniebee33 @nazdaniels @irisisonline @nazifa94 @elldell1204 @rotinireid @kyomito @outer-spacious @stupidcrazylittlething @princesssmooshie @luvspence

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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boohoobruja · 3 years

Text

So This Is Love

Summary: reader and spencer have been best friends since the day she served as a witness to one of the BAU’s cases, but things start to get more than friendly when he opens his home to her

Relationship: fem!reader x spencer reid

CW: none! fluffy fluff, babe

Word Count: 964 (easy read :))

A/N: i’m back at it again with another reid fic! these serve as great writing exercises for me and i love y’alls feedback :) keep it comin babes

“just... get out.” there’s a tone to his voice that’s unfamiliar, bitter, laced with distaste. as he stands there- her boyfriend of two years, who she presumed to be the love of her life- holding a tote bag stuffed full of odds and ends that belong to her, she resists the urge to cry. she knows why it’s happening. she hasn’t been blind to the late nights and missed calls, and it is his apartment after all, so she pulls the tote from his grip, turns on her heel, and walks out the door.

she allows herself to fall apart as she walks down the stairs, scrolling through her contacts to reach the one person she knows will understand, the only person who could comfort her in this time. spencer reid. the name glows against the dark background and she takes a deep breath, holding her thumb onto his picture.

“hello?” his voice is groggy, and there’s the crinkling sound of sheets as he shifts in bed. he’s fresh from a case, and as much as she hates to interrupt his rest, she has nowhere to go.

“spencer?” it comes out in a soft, shaking whisper.

“y/n, what’s wrong? are you alright? are you safe?” he asks, suddenly fully awake.

“he kicked me out, spence. i- i’m safe but i don’t know where to go. my car’s in the shop and i could look for a taxi but-”

“i’ll be right there.” there’s the faint jingle of keys in the background and she can only imagine him shrugging on a robe over his pajamas in a frenzy to leave the house. it’s enough to put a soft smile on her face.

“i’ll see you soon. thank you. i mean it.”

there are many things that doctor spencer reid may not be thrilled about doing, and driving is one of them. he takes public transit every chance he can, but at the suggestion and subsequent guilt trip from diana, he purchased a car in case of emergency. was this an emergency? arguable. but his hands are gripped around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, body practically trembling with anger.

his car turns the corner and he finds y/n sitting on the curb, bag tucked under her arm, picking at the skin on her lips. he slides out of the driver’s seat, slamming the door, and she scrambles to her feet. she knows better than to embrace him, but as tears well in her eyes she finds herself in his arms for the first time. he holds a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, and moving to rub her back before they part.

“i know i already thanked you but seriously. thank you.” she wipes her nose with the back of her shirtsleeve, something spencer tries not to have visible reaction to. he looks to the bag hanging off her shoulder.

“that’s it? that’s all your stuff?”

“i think he found whatever shit he could in the time it took to shatter my heart and went from there.” she laughs softly, shaking her head.

“god! how can he such a- such an asshole to you!” he throws his arms out, balling his fists as they fall to his sides. “you know, while i might not be able to physically overtake him i could always go in and flash the credentials, maybe stir him a little bit.”

“do you really think he’s going to be afraid of you arresting him for infidelity?” she laughs and he shrugs in response.

“i don’t know, i’m just sorry this happened to you. you don’t deserve this.”

“don’t be. really, i’ll be fine eventually.”

“it really does get easier.” he says, pursing his lips. she knows he’s been through much worse and she has a sudden urge to stay strong for him. he opens the passenger side door for her and she slides into the seat.

the drive to his apartment is short, but spencer finds himself looking over to y/n more than he seems to look at the road. how can someone so radiant, so confident, so special get so hurt? he sees it all the time, of course- his job leaving his coworkers so hardened, the people he meets whose lives have been ruined by the bad guys. she had been one of the latter.

he remembers interviewing her, asking her how she had found the body, if she knew who they were, if she had an idea of who did it. they sat for hours trying to recover something to save another life. when the call came that another victim had been found, she had cried. she didn’t know them but she knew what loss was. she cried for their family and their friends, and that was when he knew he couldn’t let her go.

this isn’t the first time she’d been to his apartment. she was always the first to check in when he was sick, or when he was sad, or when he was on a reading binge and forgot to check his cell. this was the first time that she had stepped more than a foot over his threshold, and she sank into his couch with her tote still pressed to her chest with crossed arms. she was still blinking tears out of her eyes.

“let me take that.” and he gently pried at her arms, yet another touch that shouldn’t have been a big deal but felt like a dream. he settled on the couch and turned to face her. it seemed like the closest they’d ever been.

“what would make you feel better?” he asks. “we can go get some trashy food, maybe get some alcohol? ice cream? go to the bookstore? that always makes me feel better.”

“i don’t know, i don’t really feel like doing anything right now. maybe curling up. and dying.”

“do you want to do some breathing exercises?”

she nodded, closing her eyes. he had done this when they first met, when she was inconsolable just like this.

“in, hold, out, hold.” they do this several times, and when their eyes flutter open they’re inches away from each other. they both move back instinctually, racked by fears of crossing the line, neither of them wanting to admit it. he clears his throat.

“i have, uh, i have board games.”

there’s a silence, then he moves and she moves and their lips meet just slightly, soft and gentle and loving. they connect like puzzle pieces meant only to fit each other.

when their lips part they press their foreheads together, and he realizes how pretty her eyelashes were after she’s cried, and she realizes how his eyes seemed so heavy but so bright at the same time. he presses his hand gently against her jaw, thumb grazing her cheek ever so lightly.

“i didn’t know you felt like this.” she whispers, pushing her cheek against his touch like she can’t get close enough.

“there was never a time or a reason to tell you. you were taken, i was coping. but i’ve wanted this since i laid eyes on you, y/n.” his voice is soft, hushed like he’s telling her a secret, and in a way he is. she smiles.

“you know, when i was little i always thought that when i grew up i would have the nicest, smartest, most handsome love in the world.”

“oh yeah?” he laughs.

“i’ve wanted you since before i knew you, spencer.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid fluff

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truglori · 4 years

Text

Homebody (Ch.2)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

Warnings: Language

“Girl and when did all of this go down again?”

Amiyah laughed as she told her best friend , Kelley, about what took place between her and Erik. Kelley was someone who she met when she first started working at the boutique at the age of nineteen. She was only two years older than her. One day they decided to go get lunch together and found themselves hitting it off and have been inseparable since. Now they were two years strong into their friendship.

“I told you about three night’s ago. You would’ve known earlier if you would actually come to work.” She replied smartly while placing a jacket back on to the rack.

“And why am I just now hearing about this? You act like you can’t call me or text me.”

“Well that’s because I wanted to tell you in person to see your face when I tell you this part...He said that he was going to try and start approaching me more because we don’t speak to each other enough.” Amiyah couldn’t contain her smile.

“Are you serious?” Kelley’s mouth dropped. “Wait where was your brother during all of this?”

“Oh um I think he was in his car. Why?”

She shook her head. “Mmm that explains it.”

Curious to know Amiyah stopped folding the shirts. “Explain what?”

“That niggas only want to get bold when they get you alone. Never tough enough to do that shit in front of people. You know that was one of the reasons why I stopped fucking with Tony.” She spoke about her ex.

“First off you and I both know that Erik is nothing like Tony. That nigga was different and I don’t think he’s scared to say it in front of everyone...it’s just you know how my brother can be.”

“Overprotective.” They stated in unison.

“I know you like him sis but just be careful. You know dealing with his situation. Can’t be running around here being nobody’s side piece no matter how fine they are.”

“I’m not anybody’s anything. I’m just telling you what went down between us and you don’t know how someone relationship look like behind close doors.” Amiyah expressed becoming offensive.

Kelley playfully rolled her eyes dropping the topic while taking snap chat pictures by the register. Our manager, Rhonda, walked out of the back office with a clipboard catching her in act. She went up to her taking her phone pointing it at her.

“Kelley I don’t pay you to sit here on your phone lil girl. Do some work now before I make you clock out and send you home.”

Placing the phone down in front of her, Rhonda went back to doing inventory check.

“Not you acting like you my mama.” Kelley mumbled before going over to help Amiyah with the last of the restock.

They both mocked her words before silently laughing amongst one another. It wasn’t too long before they heard the bell on the front door signaling that there was new customers coming in. They turned their heads to see who it was.

“Hello, welcome Bella Ella’s ladies. If you need help finding anything don’t be afraid to ask these young women over here to help you.” Rhonda smiled at the group of four before disappearing back into her office.

Walking over to stand next to Amiyah, Kelley whispered in her ear.

“Aw shit ain’t that ole boy girl?” She turned to face her best friend finding the answer she was looking for by the expression on her face. She shook her head heading back to the register.

It was Alexis. Erik’s somewhat “girlfriend”. No she didn’t think that out of jealousy because there was some truth behind it. From all the conversations that she eavesdropped on between her brother and Erik, Alexis didn’t really hold a title like she thought she did. According to Erik she was just ‘fun for now’, whatever that meant. Alexis wasn’t anyone new around the block. She had her share of men who had some money and power to go along with it. With the pretty face that she had and the body to match it wasn’t hard for her to climb her to the top where the money was. Most niggas in the hood would love to be seen with a girl like her on their arm.

“Yeah.” Amiyah spoke softly to herself as her mood shifted a bit.

“Y’all need to help me find something. Tonight is date night with Erik. We do this every Thursday.” Alexis held up a sweater crop top as she spoke to her friends modeling it in the mirror.

Placing the last shirt on the shelf Amiyah picked up the empty box along with the plastic contents inside. Walking to throw it out in the back she was stopped in her tracks when she heard her voice.

“Amiyah? Right?”

She turned facing Alexis who had a huge smile on her face showing her pearly white veneers.

Amiyah smiled putting her attention on her. “Yes, how are you?”

“I’m good girl I’m just here because me and my baby are going out on a date tonight and I need to find something fast. I heard a lot about this store and I came through to put it to the test. Please tell me y’all have something.” Alexis clasped her hands together in hopes that her mans best friend sister could find her a fit for tonight.

“Sure. Do you know if you guys are going to be out and about or staying in one location? The weather keeps dropping these days and you don’t want to be cold.”

Putting her feelings aside Amiyah went to work helping her.

___________________________________________________

It was around two in the afternoon when Erik got a call from his friend to meet up for lunch. Checking his fit his eyes met with the gold chain resting on top of his crisp black tee paired with black jeans and a pair of white and navy blue Nike 1’s. Throwing over his long gray fleece he sprayed on his Mont Blanc Legend before heading out the door of his condo.

Twenty five minutes was the time it took for him to pull up at the restaurant and meet up with Durkio, who was already enjoying an appetizer. Walking past the hostess he gave a head nod assuring that he was taken care of, he greeted his friend.

“Damn nigga you had to start without me huh?” Erik dapped him up before taking off his jacket and sliding in the booth.

“Nigga that’s because every time I call yo ass it take you a whole hour to get here. I hate that shit. I don’t know who’s worst you or Miyah.” He stated going back to eating his mango grilled shrimp.

Erik smirked shaking his head.” Anyways what’s up with you?”

“Nigga I got a fucking problem that’s what’s up.” Durk finishing the last of his food before pushing his plate aside. He grabbed his napkin wiping off the remnants of the quick meal.

“Oh yeah with who?” Erik turned towards the waitress giving her a small smile after she sat down his water.

“Can I get you started with anything?” Clicking her pen she prepared to take his order.

“Not right now sweetheart, thank you.” Erik gave her a smile revealing his deep dimple.

Flustered from his looks she nodded quickly putting away her pad. “Alrighty, let me know when you’re ready.”

“Damn nigga you tryna fuck on her too or sum?” Durkio smiled sipping his cognac.

“Don’t worry bout where my dick go and tell me about this problem you got.”

“Aight so check it out. You remember how I was telling you how I’m trying to get more products right. Like I’m really gonna be out here next up on a different level and shit. I found a connect who need a distributor in this area.”

“Okay so what’s the problem with that?” Erik sat up waiting to hear what’s going on.

“The problem is Shawn and his people already moving some shit out here. Just found out today. I was been supposed to take his ass out but I been to busy looking for a plug. But that’s not the case. Ole boy Don put me up on game where that nigga stash at. Word is he holding a million somewhere not to far from here.”

Erik figured where this was going once he heard his best friend say he was already thinking about taking someone out. He wanted him to hit a lick for him. That was the reason for this whole meet up. No, Erik wasn’t a drug dealer but he wasn’t clean either. This is what he did from time to time to make money. He would rob people. It wasn’t something that he was proud of but it was a job that kept him well fed when he was out on his own by the age of sixteen. He started out doing a few here and there with one of the boys, Tray, who he met in foster care then eventually Erik found himself doing them alone. With his quick skills and knowing how to tote a gun it became second nature for him.

Which after a while got him caught up but was also the reason he met Durk when he was just only twenty years old. Erik was out doing a job one night that Tray told him about. It was supposed to be some quick in and out job but turned out to go in a different direction.

Erik began putting the ski mask on his head so that it would be easy to pull down for when it was time to go. He sat on the passenger side of an all black Nissan waiting for the right moment. It was about two in the morning.There was three guys sitting on the front porch smoking. He knew that in a minute they would go back inside for a rotation after keeping watch on them for the last three days.

“Listen lil nigga..get yo ass in and out. I don’t need you getting no extra shit like the drugs, leave that there...get the money and bounce.” Tray watched him while he took a pull from his blunt.

“Why you act like I ain’t been doing this shit for years now. Just stay right here I’ll be back in ten.”

He took the safety off his Glock 19 as he exited the car walking towards the house. He pulled down his mask to cover his face. Walking up to the front he took one last glance back to see Tray pulling off.

‘What the fuck.’ He thought to himself as he turned around to see about seven niggas now standing on the porch pointing everything from a glock to an AK-47 at him.

He threw his gun down on the grass in front of him with a certainty that this was his last day on Earth. He knew eventually that it would catch up to him but didn’t think it would happen like this.

“Wait this the young nigga that’s been hitting up all the traps?” Durk stepped down the steps laughing eyeing up and down Erik who couldn’t have weighed no more than 175 at the time. “Nigga take yo mask off.”

Erik lifted up the ski mask not showing an ounce of fear staring him down ,which Durkio saw and knew he had to get him on his team.

“If you gon kill me do it now cause y’all niggas not bringing me no where to be tortured or some shit.” Erik stated getting ready to fight to the death of him.

Durkio smirked. “Nah nigga I ain’t gon kill you. Ima help you.”

From that day on Erik went to work for Durkio and getting at least 8 out of 10 of his jobs done with no problems. Erik shook his head reminiscing about his first time meeting the man who could’ve took his life but became his best friend instead.

“Nigga you over there in wonderland. What you gon do? You gon help me?” Durk asked in need. He knew that there wasn’t no one better for this.

“I don’t know. You know I haven’t did a job in almost two years.” Erik sipped his water.

“Aw shit. Listen bro I know you not trying to get into this shit anymore but you know if I’m coming to you about it, it’s serious. I mean if you don’t wanna do it than fuck it what can I do...but if I die that’s yo ass nigga.”

Erik shook his head. “Nigga stop speaking that over ya life. Told you bout talking like that.”

He was serious. He knew that what you say about yourself can truly be spoken into existence. He experienced it at first hand.

“Yea yeah I heard you-“ His phone rung cutting him off.

“Hello.”

..........

“Yeah y’all need me?”

..........

“Aight say less I’m there.” He ended the call. He looked at the time cursing to himself. “Shit I gotta take this. I need a quick favor.” Durkio slid out the booth putting on his jacket. He threw a hundred dollar bill down.

“Wasup?”

“Pick up Amiyah from work and bring her home. I was supposed to get her almost an hour ago. Don’t let her talk you into taking her anywhere else bring her ass home.”

Erik looked down at his watch and saw 3:35 pm. He still had plenty of time before he got ready for his date with Alexis.

“I got you bro go do your thing.” Erik got up following him out the restaurant.

“Yo Erik let me know what the move is before next week.”

He nodded his head and dapped his friend up one last time before going to his car.

_________________________________________________

“Why won’t you just wait until I get off and I’ll take you home?” Kelley stated while chewing on her ceaser salad.

“Why would I wait that long and you have to close the store. Kells I’m sorry but I am tired and ready to go home. I been here since six this morning and my dumb ass brother know I get off at two thirty.”

Amiyah threw her bag next to her on the bench as she grew frustrated. It was going on four o’clock and her brother still wasn’t here. This was the main reason she wanted to get her license. She wouldn’t have to depend on anyone and could come and go as she pleased.

Scrolling on her phone she gave him another ten minutes before she would just get an Uber which she dreaded . It was something that didn’t feel right to her trusting a complete stranger to bring her home.

The bell on the front door dinged as it open. She looked up finding Erik at the door. Looking over at Kelley she had the same surprising look as she did while remaining to eat her food.

“Hey your brother asked me to pick you up. My bad I’m late. It was last minute.” Erik walked up to her and reached for her hand to help her get up.

She accepted the helpful gesture as she bend over to collect her belongings.

Amiyah timidly looked him in the eyes. “Thank you.” Her hand still connected to his.

He showed his dimples as he sucked in his bottom lip before looking down releasing it. He let her hand go as well.

“I’m parked right here.” Erik walked to the door opening it and waited for her to walk out first.

“Bye girl.” Kelley interrupted their moment clearly witnessing some chemistry before her.

Her shy nature exposing itself due to the fact that her crush was right there, she gave a half wave to her friend. Erik following her view finally noticing the brown skin beauty at the register. He saluted her as well and then left behind Amiyah.

Walking up to his Inifiniti Q60 she reached for the door but was stopped. She looked down and saw Erik’s hand on top of hers.

“You don’t gotta worry about reaching for one of these around me.”

She lightly giggled covering her mouth with her finger tips. Not because anything was funny, she did it to cover up her nerves as much as she can. No man aside from her brother showed her this much chivalry.

“Okay.” She got in making sure she was secured before he closed the door. She watch as he jogged around to his side and got in.

Erik rubbed his hands together warming them up as he hit the pushed to start button. This was his first time with her in his car and second time alone with her in all. He looked over and watched her as she was making contact with every thing else but him.

“You good?” He questioned trying to see what’s up as he leaned back in his seat while pulling off.

She nodded smiling showing her pretty whites.

“Damn what happened? I thought we was on speaking terms now?” He joked with her trying to make her comfortable. She was too shy around him.

“I just didn’t know you were picking me up. It took me by surprise.” She finally spoke up as she wiped the sweat off her palms on her pants.

“Yeah me either but I’m cool with it.”

“Well thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

It seemed to her as if his voice became deeper and raspier within three days.

“So how was your day?” She wanted to make small talk to try and make this car ride go by fast. Thankfully the didn’t live no longer than ten minutes away.

“It was good...had met up with your brother not too long ago then I have somewhere to be in a few.” He checked his watch.

Amiyah knew where but she wanted him to say it. “Oh yeah, what you have plan for the night?”

He glanced at her before focusing back on the road.

“You tryna keep track of me?” He smirked licking his lips.

She rolled her eyes looking out the window. “No it’s just that I saw your girl at my job today. She was looking for an outfit for tonight.” She let him know that she had put two and two together.

Arriving at the building he put the car in park. Leaning back into his seat somewhat facing her. “Who’s my girl? Hm?”

He wanted to put her on the spot to see what she know since she felt it was within her rights to question him.

“I don’t know what’s her name again? Amber or Ashley? Something like that.” She was being petty now.

Erik laughed picking up the jealousy that she was dropping. But he was going to play along.

“Nah her name is Alexis.”

“Oh yeah her.” She tried her best to make herself seem unbothered.

“You help her find something nice for me?” Erik knew what he was doing, he just wanted to see how far it would go.

“I don’t know you’ll have to wait until tonight. Bye Erik. Thanks for the ride.” She grabbed her purse reaching for the door when she felt his hand grab her forearm. Facing him she saw that his eyes were on her.

“Why you seem upset all of a sudden? What I do?”

“I’m not upset I just want go inside. I’ve been up all morning.” She stated somewhat telling the truth.

It wasn’t a secret to Erik that Amiyah liked him. He caught on to that very fast. It was her body language that always gave her away. Whenever he came around her she would tense up. She could never hold eye contact with him longer than ten seconds and she would always make herself quiet the moment he made himself known. There have been times when she didn’t know that he was around and he would hear her speak but when he’d show his face she was on mute. He knew that her experience with being around men that wasn’t her brother was low. She didn’t know how to express herself correctly so instead she would try her best to become unnoticeable. But he noticed her, he noticed everything.

“That’s not my girl. We just be fucking from time and time but I never put a title on her.” He spoke honestly wanting to leave her with some information she didn’t have to spend days trying to figure. As long as it came from him that’s all that matters.

Amiyah glanced down to see his hand had left from her arm. Crossing her arms she sat up straight. “Why you telling me this?”

Erik shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe that’s something I want you to know. Something I can share between just me and you.”

“Okay.” Going back into her timid state she looked down at her thighs.

Noticing this Erik nudged her chin with his fingers making her look up at him.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be around.”

She nodded her head.

He got out the car and opened her door.

“You want me to walk you up?”

“No I’m okay. I’ll see you around.” She smiled.

Before he could stop his actions he found himself grabbing her hand and pulling her back wrapping his arms around her waist for a hug. He felt it was something she needed. Hell he needed it.

He bent his head down smelling a mixture of blueberry and peppermint oil on her neck. That with the feeling of her soft breast pushed on his chest made his dick jump. It was something about her touch that felt different.

“Damn you smell good.” He mumbled but knew she heard him.

Just the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist alone Amiyah wanted to moan so badly. When his hand swipe the small of her back she bit her lip. She didn’t know the meaning of what it felt like to be touch starved until today. Never would she have thought that a simple hug would make her feel thumping coming from her clitoris. His hands made her feel so safe and protected she didn’t want the hug to end. But of course all good things must come to an end.

Finally separating from each other she looked up at Erik who was staring down at her with low eyes with that bottom lip tucked in and his left dimple showing.

“ Gimmie ya number.” What came out more as a command than a question he reached in his pocket grabbing his phone. He unlocked it for her facing it in her direction.

Out of habit he kept his head on swivel checking his surroundings while he waited for her to make sure they were safe.

Without hesitation she logged her digits in his phone. Trying her best not to show the shakiness in her hands as she wrote her name and then placing a purple heart emoji next to it. Purple was her favorite color.

Erik checked it smiling at her boldness.

“Oh you got an emoji already. Most people gotta earn that in my phone.”

“Well I’m not most people.” She spoke under her breath.

He’d let her get away with that one.

“ Aight I’ma call you soon. Pick up when I do.” He gave her one last side hug before walking to the driver side.

“Wait but I don’t have your number how I’m supposed to know it’s you?”

“You gon know it’s me.”

__________________________________________________________

Part Three

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

Text

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 3/?: Focalize

It is a tranquil spring evening by the time Sakura appears within view behind the hospital's glass entryway, a blur of carnation and sage and ivory. It is just a few minutes past seven; it seems she is waving goodbye to what he assumes is the receptionist further into the building, out of sight. Then she’s pushing one of the doors open with her shoulder and coming into focus, pastel colors subdued in dusk.

Sasuke notices she’s carrying a plain tote bag, and that there are also two large books and what looks like something reminiscent of a magazine in her hands, neatly stacked and held to her chest. She is wearing a sweater that is slightly oversized, a desaturated green.

Her face lights up when she sees him standing there, leaning against one of the blue columns situated a few steps away, closer to the road; her expression belays something like a mixture of ardor and avidity, and as she approaches, he also observes her cheeks match her hair.

His heart swells pleasantly in his chest; any shred of loneliness he felt in the past few hours dissolves.

“Sasuke-kun,” she chimes in affectionate greeting as she ambles over to him, all lenity and upturned lips.

“Sakura.” Her eyes flash lighter, more vibrant, as she gets closer; they are reflecting glow from a nearby streetlight that flipped on promptly at seven, an electrified yellow-green.

There is a short moment in time where they just gaze at each other, scant amount of steps between them, an oblivion of chartreuse and charcoal in spring twilight.

“How was your first day back?” She finally asks, smiling up at him.

He thinks it over for a second as he studies her, a gentle breeze of springtide. “...Fine. I saw Kakashi and the dobe.”

Her smile shifts into a knowing one. “I’m going to guess paperwork and Ichiraku’s.”

He pulls the health screening forms out of his pocket in answer, and her dimple makes an appearance.

“You can come by tomorrow just after eight in the morning, if that works for you; I’ll be here.” Different hours than today, then, he presumes.

He feels he should clarify that she’s not coming in early just for his sake. “...Shouldn’t I make an appointment?”

Sakura shakes her head. “Thursdays and Fridays I don’t have appointments or surgeries until a little later in the day. The majority of those mornings are set aside for medical research and correspondence with some of the clinics. As long as it’s before eleven, I can step away from things for a bit.”

Research. Interesting. She hadn't mentioned much about that in her letters; he hadn't realized it was something she did regularly. “What kind of research?”

She blinks in surprise, and he thinks she looks a little sheepish. “...It depends. Right now we’re doing some longitudinal studies on mice; behavioral assessment in accordance with certain stimuli, neurobiological response, brain scans, that sort of thing... I’ve also got some poisons I’m looking at for antidote development, but they’re pretty rare, so it’s not super pressing.”

His eyes flick to the books in her arms, a silent question. Her lips quirk upwards even more, then; he tries not to focus on them for too long, because she’s shifting the texts so he can read the titles. The thin magazine-like one is labeled Progress in Neuro-Psychopharmacology and Biological Psychiatry; it must be a research journal. The top book reads Neuroanatomy Through Clinical Cases, and the other reads Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release.

“...Some light reading,” he comments dryly, his version of a joke, and he revels in her soft exhale of breath, a shy version of a laugh. He has missed it.

“I suppose. I actually need to return these; they’re almost due. I meant to do it yesterday, but...” She’s blushing again. Vivid eyes meet his hesitantly before sweeping away. “...I forgot.”

Heat edges up his neck.

“I… wasn’t sure what you wanted to do this evening,” she continues, pursing her lips a little as her fingers clutch the books closer to her again. “I thought maybe we could swing by the library? I’d like to take a quick look to see if they have some new things in yet; it shouldn’t take very long.”

Sasuke muses that Sakura absolutely is the type to visit the library regularly. He used to go often, when he was younger. He wasn’t checking out books of that caliber, though; he wonders how long she’s had them. He also ponders momentarily if rogue ninja status is enough for the powers that be to revoke your library card from the system. Probably.

He hasn’t been able to read regularly for awhile, being away; books have been unnecessary weight, something extra to carry, and also a distraction from what he was trying to accomplish. Though he would accompany her wherever regardless, he realizes he would like to start reading again. It would be something to occupy his free time, when she is busy.

He nods his assent.

“Okay,” she breathes, looking a little relieved and meeting his eyes again, luminescent jade. "They close at eight today, so we should probably get going."

He nods again, glancing down at the books still in her arms. He considers for a second, then holds his hand out. Sakura blinks in confusion, long lashes skimming her cheekbones.

“...I’ll carry them,” he offers, neck heating up again as she stares. “...If you’d like.”

Her skin blooms with color, darker than earlier. “Oh. Thank you.” She hands them to him carefully, soft fingers brushing his. Her touch is delicate, incredibly distracting; her glowing cheeks, even moreso.

She adjusts her bag over her shoulder and then turns; he falls into step next to her as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

They walk just east of the hospital, which tells him the library is likely still in the same location, despite Konoha’s changing landscape. Some of the buildings they pass along the way are under construction. That seems to be a recurring theme in the village right now; much of what he saw earlier today passing through with Naruto was the same. Sasuke wonders if the library will have expanded, too. He doesn’t think he’s passed by it, yet.

There are a few people milling about, but not nearly as many as earlier. He supposes the majority of residents must be retired for the evening, inside their homes with family. There are a few restaurants they pass that smell fairly appetizing, but Sakura doesn’t say anything, so he concludes he was right in thinking that she has eaten already.

“So, how were things with Kakashi-sensei and Naruto?” Sakura asks conversationally, peering up at him from his right. “Anything other than paperwork?”

Sasuke contemplates before responding. “...Naruto and I went apartment hunting.”

Pink brows furrow a little bit as she grins. “Did you invite him?” She asks, though he suspects by her expression she already knows the answer.

He shakes his head. “Kakashi mentioned it as I was leaving and he invited himself.”

She laughs, then, glancing in the direction of the mountain of faces at their old sensei. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He probably appreciated a morning with Naruto out of his hair. He’s been helping there a lot, when he’s not on missions.” She pauses, then adds, “I imagine apartment hunting with Naruto would be pretty draining, though. He’s gotten a little better at cooling it with the nonstop chatter since Hinata, but not by a ton.” She stops again, thinking, before inquiring, “Did you end up finding a place?”

Sasuke nods. “It’s north of here.”

She smiles again, then purses her lips as if she’s considering whether to say something more or not. Finally she adds, green eyes darting to his and then looking away shyly, “...Not too far away, then.”

His gaze softens. “...Not too far.”

They amble by a few street vendors selling gardening supplies, closing up carts for the evening; they must be doing fairly well, as all that’s left over from the day's plantable wares are saplings here and there, and a few starters, small labels detailing their required care poking up from the dirt containers they’re sitting in. There are several taller displays interspersed between carts, stocked with watering cans, spades, gloves, and the like. Sasuke thinks it is quite trusting of the merchants to leave their goods out overnight, evidently without fear that they will be stolen or damaged; many of them are walking away holding only money boxes. It speaks to the relative security of Konoha, in comparison to most of the places he's been.

“Did you get everything you needed for your apartment today?” Sakura asks him after they meander a few more steps.

He blinks. “...Mostly."

“Was there something in particular you wanted to do, after the library? We could stop by a store, if they’re open, and get what you're missing.”

He shakes his head, then admits, “I… didn’t have anything planned.” He worries, then, that maybe he was supposed to plan something. They’re together now, or at least he hopes they are; he'd kissed her, and he would like to, again, if they're alone. Maybe this should have been more formal. He then thinks he should answer the second part of her inquiry: a box and a drying rack would probably be easy to find at a general store, but the majority of places in Konoha that are open past seven only sell food. “...I think the store I went to closed at seven,” he adds.

Sakura looks as if she’s deliberating again. “What are you missing, still?” He notices she doesn’t seem upset that he didn’t plan anything; maybe it’s okay.

It takes him a moment to respond, carefully. “...A small storage box, and a laundry rack.”

She brightens. “I actually have a spare drying rack that I'm not using, if you want it. The washing machine in my unit broke in February, and when my landlady replaced it, she got a washer/dryer combo.” She thinks, then adds, “...And I think I have an empty shoebox in my closet; would that be big enough?”

Something like serendipity unfolds in Sasuke’s chest and begins to vine between his ribs. He thinks unbidden of the blooming cherry blossom tree he can see from his window, just within reach, if he only goes beyond the glass.

He nods. “...Thank you.”

Multifaceted eyes peer up at him warmly. “No problem.” Her cheeks darken again. “We could… walk for a while, and then swing by there at the end. If you want.” Her fingers are gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter. “I wouldn’t mind walking by your building at some point before that, so I… so I know where it is.”

Sasuke nods again, heart skipping a little. He had hoped she would show him where her apartment is tonight, too; he would like to walk her home. He also hopes ‘walk for a while’ means he gets to spend more time with her between the library and going by his building, before they go to hers.

He thinks maybe he should voice that. It comes out as a question. “...We could walk around a bit after the library?”

She’s gazing up at him with red cheeks and smiling with a gentle light in her eyes. “...I’d like that,” she murmurs.

His ears feel warm again.

They turn a corner, and then they are at the library. There is a small expanded portion of the building on the south side now, and it is painted a slightly different mauve-leaning gray than it used to be, but otherwise it appears the same. When they near the entrance, Sakura pulls open the door for him, since his hand is occupied.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, before they head inside, bell on the door jingling.

The librarian working at the front desk nods at Sakura in recognition as they enter, a fairly young woman with chestnut hair. The librarian Sasuke remembers was quite a bit older, elderly now that he’s thinking about it. He briefly wonders if she passed away in his absence. The thought makes him morose; he hopes she just retired. She had always been kind to him.

“Finished with those already, Sakura?” The woman asks, friendly and motioning to the books in Sasuke’s arm as he makes his way to the desk to set them down, Sakura beside him. She must know her well.

“Yes; the journal was interesting, this time. Very relevant to the experiments we're running, and much more substantial than the last edition.” There is something somewhat critical in her voice regarding the referenced last edition, as if something in it wasn’t up to her academic standards. She’s well within reason to be captious; she has become an expert in her field in a rapid amount of time, and if she’s doing research regularly, he’s sure she has the data to back up her assessment. He wonders just what kind of experiments she’s running that have to do with neuro-psychopharmacology; whatever they are, he imagines they must be complex.

The woman is wearing a name tag that reads Ichika, Sasuke can see now that they’re closer. Sakura pulls out what must be her library card from her tote bag; it’s connected to a lanyard with several keys and what he presumes is an ID badge for the hospital.

“Thank you," the librarian says as Sakura hands her card over. As she does so, the woman glances at Sasuke with brown eyes, and then back to Sakura, as if waiting for an introduction. “And this is?”

“This is Sasuke,” she answers, smiling, then adds, “Uchiha.”

“Welcome,” the woman named Ichika greets him, without any malice. Sasuke wonders if she just doesn’t know who he is, or if she’s being friendly because of Sakura’s presence. Maybe it’s because she’s a civilian.

“...Thank you,” he offers sincerely after a moment.

“It was nice of you to carry those books. I know from experience they’re quite heavy. My name’s Ichika.” She gestures to her name tag. “I don’t suppose you like to read as much as Sakura does?” Ichika laughs as she hands Sakura’s card back and starts scanning the books as returned. “I think by now there are more books in the library that she’s read than ones she hasn’t.”

Sasuke glances at Sakura knowingly, and she looks downwards bashfully for a second.

“...I like to, but I don't think I’d understand half of what’s in these,” Sasuke answers honestly, turning his gaze back to the librarian. He sees Sakura flush out of the corner of his eye.

Ichika laughs. Sasuke thinks then that she really must not know of his prior rogue ninja status. “I usually have her write down the titles of the books she’d like us to add, because I don’t know that I can even spell some of the words.” She squints at the last book. “ Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release. I haven’t the faintest idea what a neurotransmitter is, or what it would be releasing.”

Sakura smiles. “Neurotransmitters are the body’s chemical messengers. A release is when the neurotransmitter causes a response in the receiving neuron; they can be disrupted in diseases and biological toxins. Tetanus is a good example; it goes up synaptic terminals of interneurons where it blocks the release of inhibitory neurotransmitters. The result of the block is that motorneurons become overactive, and then cause muscle contractions and spastic paralysis, like lockjaw.”

Ichika blinks blankly. “I don’t know where you keep that information in your head, Sakura, because it certainly wouldn’t fit in mine. Guess I’ll try not to step on any nails in the meantime.” She’s shaking her head, but her tone is amicable. “Well, they’re all checked in, with a few days to spare. I left out the new journals and that other book you asked about in the usual spot, back in the Medicine section.”

Sakura nods, and the librarian’s gaze turns back to him.

"Would you like a library card?”

Sasuke is glad he won’t have to ask. “...I used to have one. I’m not sure if it’s still on file.”

“I can check our records, if you want to browse in the meantime. If it’s not still on file, we can set you up with a new one; you can take books today either way, if you find some you’re interested in.”

Sasuke nods; that was easier than he thought it would be. “...Thank you.” Ichika turns to approach a row of filing cabinets a bit further back behind the main desk area, he assumes to check for his name in their database; he turns to Sakura.

She’s smiling at him as if she wants to ask him a question, but she doesn’t say anything. When she turns to journey further back into the library, he follows. They pass through two interior rooms, organized by genre and alphabet just the same as they had been years ago. The shelves are a little fuller than they used to be; with the population expanding, it makes sense that they now have a wider selection available.

They turn a corner to another interior room, and suddenly he sees a familiar face. His replacement is hunched over in a corner, nose buried in a book that appears from its cover to be about painting. When Sasuke inspects the rest of the room, he sees that the majority of the books in this section have titles related to art.

“Oh, hey, Sai,” Sakura greets casually, heading over to him. Dark eyes glance up at her from his book. Seeing him here must be a regular occurrence, given her lack of surprise.

"Hello, Ugly,” he responds, somehow both cheerful and monotone all at once. Sasuke frowns. He’d been around Sai a few times following the war, before he left for his travels. He never liked his nickname for Sakura.

Sai then looks to him, still standing at the threshold of the room, keeping his distance. He knows him, but not well.

“Welcome back, Traitor," he adds, tone friendly enough. Sasuke supposes that one’s fair. He inclines his head minutely, hand in his pocket.

Sai twists his gaze back to Sakura. "Have you recovered from your birthday extravaganza?"

Sakura blanches and stiffens a little in surprise as Sasuke eyes her with great interest; clearly this was not something she’d expected to be asked about. "Uh… Yeah. It doesn't take long; I eat during and can heal my headache the morning after."

Sai nods. “Yes, Beautiful said you didn’t get nearly as plastered as she wanted you to.” The way he says it is with way too positive of an inflection, as if he’s talking about it being great weather outside instead of crude wording for getting drunk.

Sakura rolls her eyes, then. “She would think that.” She pauses, then looks at Sai carefully. "Ino should be back tonight, right?"

"Yes. I am excited. I'm feeling quite amorous."

Sasuke twitches and his frown sinks deeper, but Sakura rolls her eyes as if she is used to this lack of filter, and gently pushes his book into his face, firmly but carefully so as not to damage it.

"Too much information. Just say you miss her."

Sai smiles as he moves the book away. "It is less information than Beautiful gives."

"That's because she's not normal," Sakura replies, sighing. Sai nods almost mechanically, as if he is cataloging this tidbit on human social interaction away in a filing cabinet for future reference.

There is a pause that is just a bit too long, before Sai offers, “I am researching for an upcoming painting.” Sasuke doesn’t know Sai well enough to understand, but Sakura does; apparently this is his way of telling her that he is busy with his book.

"I won’t keep you, then. Don't let her forget about our plans, though, and tell her I missed our spar this week."

Sai smiles. "She was preparing a new playlist prior to her mission." This also interests Sasuke, but not as much as Ino trying to get her ‘plastered’. He is for some reason having great difficulty imagining Sakura even a little drunk.

Sakura sighs deeply through her nose this time, and says flatly, with no enthusiasm, "Great.” After a beat, she adds, “Well anyways, tell her I say hi. See you. Good luck with your painting.”

Sai nods, and Sakura then turns to go a different direction, Sasuke following close behind. They pass through four more interior rooms before they finally make it to the Medicine section towards the back of the building, where one book and two more medical journals are sectioned neatly away in an empty portion of shelf. The book is just as thick as the one she’d just returned.

“I didn’t know you liked to read, still,” Sakura mentions as she carefully picks up the stack. She’s smiling at him again; that must be what she wanted to say earlier. Maybe she’d expected Sai would be there, that they would pass through the room he was sitting in, and that’s why she’d held off.

Sasuke nods. “...I haven’t read much in a while.”

Jade eyes are soft on his. “Well, if you want to look for a bit, I could look, too.”

He nods again.

XXX

Roughly twenty minutes later, Sasuke leaves the library with Sakura, comparing what they’ve checked out underneath the streetlight just outside; the light has faded enough that it is a bit difficult to read without it.

They still had his information on file after all, though the woman, Ichika, had him fill out a renewal slip and updated his contact information to his new address before giving him a new card. It is a strangely comforting and nostalgic feeling, to know that he was still present in the archives of Konoha in ways he had been unaware of.

He had picked out two books: one about the history of kenjutsu in Fire Country, and another historical text documenting the overthrow of the daimyo in the Land of Silence. He has never been there, given it is beyond the reach of Shinobi authority; he figured it would be interesting to read about. With it being a samurai-led country, it made sense to read at the same time as the book on kenjutsu.

“These sound like you,” Sakura says after scanning the titles of what he’s picked, glancing up at him kindly as she rotates so he can read the information of her own. Cradled in her arms are the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, the other scholarly journal, Human Brain Mapping, the book from the Medicine section titled Translational Research in Traumatic Brain Injury, and what appears to be a fiction book, an addition to the others, titled Spoiled Suitopi.

“You read fiction, too,” he observes as he reads the title of the last one, and she takes this as her cue to shift them back together neatly into one stack, largest to smallest.

She laughs a little. “I try to. It’s a good mental reset after reading medical texts; everything starts to blur together after a while. This was actually a recommendation from Ino; she’s into the dramatic stuff, clearly. Sometimes they’re decent.”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to ask. “...A birthday extravaganza?”

She smiles timidly, expression shifting to something a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t call it that; she showed up at my apartment last weekend with ingredients for drinks, and then we watched terrible movies in my living room.”

Sasuke is learning all kinds of things about Sakura this evening. “No Sai?”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s a me and Ino thing; he doesn’t really pick up on the nuance of them being terrible, and we figure we don’t want to give him poor examples to follow… he’s got enough of those already, dating her.” She grins a little, then. “Also, he can’t really handle his liquor.”

Sasuke thinks Sakura must be able to hold hers fairly well; she had seemed pretty confident earlier, regarding the morning after. He knows her mentor Tsunade has quite a reputation. He himself has never drank much.

“He’s... interesting.”

Sakura shrugs nonchalantly. "He's better than he used to be, regarding the oversharing. Ino is worse, honestly.”

He considers her words, then decides to drop the subject, because he doesn’t want to think about that. Sakura had said in her letters that Ino and Sai were together; he can only imagine what she knows about them, likely most of it against her will and learned in the manner he's just witnessed.

He shifts his attention upwards; a few stars are starting to peek their way into the night sky. He follows their path north, to the barest hints of lavender sinking below the horizon. It has become even more silent outside, fewer people and slightly cooler temperatures. There is still a breeze. They spent longer in the library than he'd anticipated.

He’s not sure what time she usually goes to sleep; if she works at eight, it’s probably early. He wonders if he should ask.

“Thank you for going with me. I’m sorry it took a little longer than I thought,” she says, before the question comes to him. He shifts his eyes back towards her; he’s about to tell her not to apologize because he clearly spent time browsing, too, but she’s already speaking again. “You said your apartment is on the north side, right?”

He inclines his head in an affirmative.

“We could walk that direction, if you want; there are a few newer things on that side of town I could point out that are kind of interesting. If…” She pauses, as if considering her wording. “If you haven’t seen them already, I mean.” She gestures to his selection from the library, gripped in his hand. “We could drop off your books, too. Not as much to carry back, then, with the box and the laundry rack.”

“...I’d like that.”

She smiles up at him again, tender effervescence. He realizes as they start making their way north that they both have been talking in more hushed voices, as if the blanket of nighttime shifting atop the village has quieted them in addition to their surroundings.

There is something soothing about treading around at nightfall with her. The village is well-lit enough that it’s fairly easy wandering, and lights emanating from windows cast everything softer, more inviting phosphorescence sifting onto the pathway beneath their feet. Earlier today, trekking back and forth between businesses and his apartment, it had felt more unfamiliar, like there was a disconnect and he was just passing through, despite the knowledge that he was transporting things to a permanent living space. It feels decidedly less transient next to Sakura, a hint of sweetness in tart recollections. He watches their shadows for a fleeting moment, cast close together to the right of them, near touching, and occasionally faded by windowpane glow.

There is a casino she points out a few blocks down where Tsunade apparently used to lose money fairly regularly. She explains it was her mentor’s favorite because it was somewhat close to the residence typically taken up by the Hokage; she used to call it lucky, even though she never won. Sasuke finds out through this story that the Hokage residence is still sitting empty; Kakashi has apparently still not moved there, preferring instead to stay where he has been residing for years. Sakura mentions in a softer tone that she thinks it’s because of his apartment’s proximity to the graveyard where his old teammate, the Nohara girl, is buried.

There is a long stretch of silence in which Sasuke considers just how Kakashi has always seemed able to see straight through him. He’s fairly certain the girl had been a medic, too.

“...Naruto’s house isn’t far from the Hokage’s office, either,” Sasuke observes finally, changing the subject. He’s with her right now; he doesn’t want to ruminate too long. He thinks that's improvement.

Jade eyes sparkle up at him. “No, it’s not. I’m pretty sure that was on purpose; I don’t think they intend to move again. I’m sure he’ll give you the tour eventually - he’s pretty proud of their place; Hinata keeps it pretty nice - but it has some extra rooms.”

He tries not to think about the implications of that for too long. Naruto being in charge of a tiny human is not a very reassuring thought, even with his apparent strides in social awareness.

They pass a yakitori place she mentions is good, a few more blocks down. It seems pretty calm for such a restaurant, not as busy as Ichiraku’s usually is, though it’s later now and they’re likely getting ready to close. “I’ve been there with Naruto and Hinata a few times,” she tells him. “At least, when we can convince him to go eat something other than ramen.”

Sasuke hadn’t realized Sakura was that close with Naruto’s wife, though it makes sense instantaneously; she has known her for years. He thinks for a second before questioning, “Is she still as quiet?”

Sakura purses her lips in thought. “She talks more, now, for sure, but she’s still pretty shy around people she doesn’t know well.” She smiles, then. “I think Naruto has been really good for her, actually. Her for him, too; they balance each other out well.”

He supposes that’s true; perhaps Hinata is the reason for Naruto’s continued emotional growth. He ponders momentarily whether he and Sakura will balance each other out well.

She’s looking at him as if he should say something, so he does. “...He had vegetables in his ramen today.”

Sakura laughs. “Yes, she does force vegetables into his food every once in a while, now, so he's more used to them. I think she might have slipped Teuchi some money to start throwing them in his orders, to be honest."

Sasuke snorts, because of course that would be how that came about.

"It’s for the best," Sakura continues, lips quirking upwards still. He tears his eyes away from her mouth after a second. "He was eating pretty much all noodles and junk for so long. Hopefully it’ll start to cancel out with a few more years.”

As they walk farther, he starts to recognize things from earlier today; a bed of alabaster azaleas surrounding a residential building painted green, and a rather large street sign on a corner, right next to an ornate bench. They are getting fairly close to his apartment building. He holds off on saying something for a little longer, though, because he wants to spend more time with her. He hopes that's not too selfish; he has missed her. A lot.

“There’s an interesting place over there,” Sakura notes, pointing out a clearly aged building that he thinks he walked by on his return trip from the market earlier in the afternoon. “They’re only open two or three days a week, but it’s antiques now. I don’t usually buy anything other than books, but it’s fun to look through; they get rare ones in, from time to time. The owner is really nice.”

He nods. That would be a good way to spend an afternoon. He suspects she must have a collection of books at her apartment, then. He wonders how many.

She is mute for a moment, as if in thought, as they pass through another intersection. He wonders if he should be adding more to the conversation, but it doesn’t feel like an awkward silence; just an easy one.

He spies another familiar sign, this one advertising the market hours. “...My building is a few blocks this way,” he mentions quietly, loath as he is for this evening spent with her to come to an end. She looks up at him for a moment, then nods, and he subtly starts leading her in the general direction of his apartment complex.

His building comes into view a short time later. He points it out right before they pass beneath the cherry blossom tree, and Sakura nods in recognition. “Sai used to live somewhere over in this area, before he moved in with Ino. I’m not sure where, exactly. I know he liked how quiet it was, though.”

Sasuke nods as he pulls his key from his pocket, and they cross the street. He had been right about the light pollution; there is little enough of it that one can see the stars rather clearly, more so than one could from the library.

He wonders if he should perhaps invite her in. He thinks of the letters, still sitting on the small end table in the living room.

She saves him from making the decision. “I’ll wait here,” she tells him politely, leaning up against the old brick. He nods.

He goes up the stairway, down to the last door on the right. Once he unlocks his door, he places the two books on the kitchen table inside, and locks the door again behind him. It only takes him a minute before he is coming down the stairs again.

She smiles at him, then blinks when he holds out his hand. She colors, he thinks, when she realizes he’s offering to carry her books for her again; it’s harder to tell with the lack of light.

As she hands them to him carefully, she says, voice soft, “My place is a little south of the library; not by too much.” Her eyes flit to his, then dart away; there is a careful smile on her lips. “Maybe a little over ten minutes from here.”

They wander together in an easy silence, her leading the way more now. There are a few crickets chirping. It was fairly warm out today, so it makes sense that insects are starting to make their return. A gentle breeze continues to waft through from time to time.

He walks close enough to her that he can faintly smell raspberries, each time the wind blows just right. There are even fewer people out and about now, it being closer to nine in the evening; the road is fairly deserted. They go by the library again, lights turned off, and more closed businesses. It soon transitions into older construction that he assumes must be residential.

She was right; it doesn’t take long, around twelve minutes at a leisurely pace, before she points out a building further down the street. “That’s the one.”

As they get closer, he notes that hers is also an older building, built out of cream brick; there is something nice about that realization, that she also apparently chose something older with a bit of history over something brand new. There are few enough street lights that one can see the stars overhead well at night here, too.

“There’s a patio or balcony attached to each unit,” Sakura remarks once they’re closer, pointing at one on the northernmost part of the second story that is brimming with potted plants, much more than any of her neighbors’. “That one’s mine.”

As they round the corner of the building, he assumes to reach the front entrance, she tells him it was one of the reasons she selected this apartment, aside from its proximity to the hospital and her family's residence. "My parents' house has balconies for both bedrooms. It was strange to imagine not having one. This one’s attached to the bedroom, too; it’s nice to sit out there, if the weather’s not too extreme."

It’s a smaller complex, only two stories high. He thinks there must be six units, given its size and the trio of balconies they passed beneath, three small patios in their shadows on the ground level. It is somewhat close to the hospital, as she’d said, but far enough away that it's not necessarily an area that would bustle with activity, even during the day’s busiest hours; it is very still right now, peaceful. They pass through a glass door that is not locked, leading into a common area with six doors, three on the main level, and then three on the second level, with a metal stairway leading upwards. A huge, two-story high bay window sprawls by the main door, overlaid in a diamond pattern, which must allow light to stream in the majority of the day.

Each of the doors to individual units has at least one or two plants framing it, but he knows which one is hers right away. An array of thriving potted plants surround the upper northernmost side door, spilling out to surround the entire right side of the banister that frames the edges of the building. Hers is also the unit furthest on the upper right, like his; another nice realization. A few of her plants are flowering, but for the most part they are varying shades of green, with accents of paler colors. Desaturated and calming, just as he’d guessed she would like, rather than intensities of marigold and cobalt and fuchsia. It's hard to tell in the dim lighting, but as they get closer, he thinks that the few blooms are pistachio and lavender and blush in color, like her hair.

Or her cheeks. Jade eyes are on him again as he finishes walking up the stairway behind her.

He follows her to her door and leans a little against the railing behind him while she grabs her keys from her bag; he doesn’t think she’d mind if he came in for a few minutes, but she didn’t explicitly invite him, and he wants to be polite.

Once she’s unlocked it, she turns back to him to take her books. Her hand brushes his, and it’s incredibly distracting, again. “I’ll be right back.” She smiles at him before disappearing inside her apartment.

She leaves the door slightly ajar behind her, and he tries not to look. He busies himself with observing what appears by her neighbors’ doorways instead. No light emanates from beneath the doors of any of them; he wonders, this being older construction, if more of the tenants here are older, and are perhaps in bed already. The upper units probably aren’t occupied by extremely elderly people, given the stairs, but the ground level units’ decorations appear more classic and refined, less youthful. He notes the pots surrounding the other doors are very matchy, but Sakura’s are less so; hers are various shades of neutral terracotta colors, soft and inviting, some with unique shapes.

She’s back quickly, foldable drying rack and shoebox in tow, closing her door mostly behind her. She also must have set her tote bag aside; it's no longer situated on her shoulder.

He realizes all at once as she meets his eyes, handing him the items she’s gifting him, that he does not want this evening to end.

“Thank you,” he says, voice husky.

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, just as hushed.

Sasuke studies her eyes for a long moment, trying to commit the life in them to memory, though he already has, he thinks.

“...May I see you tomorrow after you work?” He finally asks quietly, trying to keep the hope out of his tone. He knows he’ll see her for his medical clearance in the morning, but he would still like to spend time with her outside of that, if she doesn't have plans already.

She looks crestfallen, smile slipping a little before coming back. “I would love to see you, but I have dinner with my parents every other Thursday, since I get off at four. They stopped by for a visit on my actual birthday, but they wanted to do cake and a gift tomorrow night after our usual supper time.” She pauses, searches his expression for a moment. “Maybe the day after tomorrow, if you’re not busy? I get off around four on Fridays, too.”

He nods, committing this part of her schedule to memory. “...I’ll meet you at the hospital, then.”

Her smile gets wider. “Okay. I can show you around the other newer parts of the village, if you’d like. The southwest side has really expanded.”

He nods his head in agreement, thinking. He would like to ask for more time with her, before he starts taking mission assignments again, but he also doesn’t want to monopolize all of it; she has years worth of life here, roots other than him that need tending. He hopes she’s saying yes because she actually wants to, and not simply for his sake.

He takes a deep breath, forcing down nervous vulnerability at his next question. “...And Saturday?”

She blinks, then blushes darker, smile growing wider still. She casts her glance downwards to her feet out of shyness, shifting a bit. “Saturdays I work seven to three; I’m going to stop by the market after for some gardening supplies with Ino, but other than that, I didn’t have anything set in stone.” But then jade eyes flick back up at him, and they are slightly apologetic.

His heart sinks for a second, rejection stinging a little behind his eyes. She doesn’t want to see me that often. He’s been absent for too long. She's probably tired of him already, though she hasn’t said anything. He has enjoyed tonight, but he's aware he doesn't make the best company.

“Naruto sent a clone by this afternoon that was going on about an original Team Seven reunion dinner, though. He mentioned Saturday night as a possibility,” she reveals, and his world comes back into focus, heart reversing upwards back into his chest cavity.

Sasuke huffs amusedly, then, relieved. “...Of course he did.”

She sighs wistfully, shaking her head. “Ichiraku’s, I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve tried everything on the menu in triplicate, at this point.”

He eyes her carefully, trying to dry swallow his fear of rejection like a pill. Corrosion, he thinks. “...After dinner?”

Shimmering seafoam again. Happy, transparently pleased, and he’s glad he asked, shoved away the nerves; he’d do it again in a heartbeat, if it’s going to make her eyes look like that. “Of course. We could… hang out here, if you want. Or was there something you had in mind?”

His gaze softens. “Here is fine,” he answers. It is more than fine, actually. He’d go anywhere, if it meant he could soak in her presence longer, but he’s more than a little curious about what her apartment looks like on the inside. His own is pretty sterile, even now mostly put together after the afternoon, devoid of most anything other than necessities. He has an inkling that Sakura is the type to truly make wherever she's living feel like a home, though, given the pleasant spread of life he’s seen spilling out here on her doorstep.

“Okay,” she confirms, dimple reappearing. “I’ll look forward to it.”

There is something in her eyes after a second, gears turning, a question she must want to ask him.

"Would you…" She's talking even more softly, now, hushed as if she's going to scare him away. Her eyes meet his apprehensively as she shifts her weight from one side to the other. "Would you want to maybe... have tea tomorrow morning? I'm… not sure if you have plans or not, but I have a little time, before I work. There's a good place near the hospital, and then after we could get your exam done at eight like we planned."

The vines between his ribs twist pleasurably. She does want to see him, after all. She's not too busy. She's looking at him nervously, as if he would say no, as if he hasn’t spent the last twenty-four hours longing for her company again.

"...I'll look forward to it," he answers quietly, because he will; he likes tea, occasionally. He thinks he will like it better with her.

Her entire countenance brightens somehow, even as she flushes darker. "Oh. Good." She sounds relieved.

"...I can meet you here," he finds himself saying, and her eyes are sparkling at him, now, at what's implied - longer with her, another walk together. "What time?"

She purses her lips now, apparently still nervous. "Would… seven be too early?" Her voice trails off a little, as if in hesitance, as she finishes the question.

He chooses his next words carefully, meaningfully, so there is no uncertainty. "Not at all."

She regards him then like he has done something wholly wonderful, cheeks a rich red in dim light and expression heart-wrenchingly elated.

There is an expectant pause as the oblivion happens again, dimmer now but just as powerful. He really wants to kiss her; he’s been thinking about it the entire evening. He wonders if she has, too, and if maybe she wants him to. There’s no one around, in this little entry area of her small complex, in front of her door and her plants in faded hues.

He decides to go with his gut.

It’s somehow even better, this time, anticipation and lips meeting and a barely audible exhale of breath through the nose on her part, almost like she’s suddenly at ease; he thinks, pleased, that she must have wanted him to. Her hands gently meet his chest, tentatively pressing against him. He would like to do something with his, but it's still occupied, holding what she's supplied him with. He settles for pressing his lips to hers with a little more confidence than yesterday. It’s tender and over much too quickly, much like the evening they have spent together; all soft light settling, lambent and beguiling.

She is crimson when they part for a breath, before shyly directing her gaze away and shifting back down; he realizes that she must have been standing on the tips of her toes to reach him.

Her hands linger on his chest, and then her gaze comes back up to his, almost determinedly.

“I’m… really happy you’re back.” Her face is still flushed, but she doesn’t look away. Her pupils are dilated, bottomless black dwarfing green.

Heat creeps up his neck. His pulse pounds just below her fingertips, as if she’s tugging at his heartstrings with them.

“...I am, too,” he whispers, before he leans down again.

He thinks that he could stay here forever, clutching all that she’s given him, enveloped in a sweet ambrosia of tart berry and newly unfurling plants and soft lips that he’s thought of all day, now against his again.

She gently drops her hands from his chest when they finally part. She’s smiling; she is so pretty.

“Good night, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice is near a whisper. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“...Good night, Sakura,” he murmurs in response.

XXX

The journey from her place to his really is quite quick; he doesn’t see anyone on his way back. Stars are visible almost the entire way, Leo and Ursa Major and Cassiopeia. The moon is a thin sliver amongst them, raised high in the sky.

Once he's inside, he carefully folds out the drying rack she’s given him in the small laundry closet and lays out damp clothes to allow the air to finish the job. He's glad he didn't need to make another trip to the store. A trip with her was better, and she somehow had just what he needed. He thinks perhaps she always has, and his vision has simply been too blurry, obscured by smudged glass, to see it.

Sasuke retrieves the stack of her letters and places them in the box gingerly so as not to further bend them. He stares at the picture for a long time before also stowing it away, sliding the container onto the shelf in the closet for safekeeping.

He doesn’t feel tired yet, and it's not too cold, so he goes to visit the memorial stone, after, as he’d planned. He feels it is the right thing to do, after having been gone so long.

He confronts many things as he sits there, the bevy of crickets and soft swishing of grass the only sounds on this quiet spring evening, a long list of engravings barely legible in the shadows.

Melancholy is one of them, seeping in slowly, as he’d known it would. Grief and acrimony and betrayal, too. A little bit of anger, still. He also experiences sillage, the aroma of his mother’s flower garden and the scent of his aunt and uncle’s baked goods and the smell of an empty house, all blending together in his olfactory senses like it was yesterday, a bitter incense of nostalgia that is hard on the inhale.

This time, though, semisweet berry and antiseptic are also among them, memory fresh in his nostrils, and he experiences a little bit of comfort, too.

Sasuke doesn’t sleep well, after, but when the nightmare comes, gruesome, and he’s awake for the remainder of the night, he has some books to help steady him until seven comes.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #slow burn indeed we doing a snail's pace out here #like gold #fanfiction

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Text

280 characters pt. 4 | john laurens

title: 280 characters pt 4

pairing: john laurens x reader

notes: click on the images for better quality!!

warnings: uhh sex mentions again, highkey sexual tension, bigly confrontation and implied smut??

desc: you don’t expect much to come of it when you wake up with a hazy memory beside who you believe to be a total stranger – you don’t even bother to try and figure out who he is. but when a lost green bra and a few twitter threads lead you back to your mystery lover, will 280 characters be enough to rekindle your past?

tags: @sothisishappiness @nemesis729 @ahsteriawrites @popbubblegumpop @fanfic-addict-98 @noonewouldlisten25 @pachowpachowbucket @justahappylilblog @reidcult @spacefish42069 @wiffle-snuffles @teenwaywardasgardian @booksandfandomsarelife1 @allie-mcginn @katierpblogg @cubedtriangle @sothisishappiness @yxseminx @irlkell @svnnypooh @c0ldfaerie @slytherinssssnake @butterflies123 @dr-bitch-bby @fangirling-central @a-soft-disaster @quixoticallydelusional @myeverchangingobsessions@greywarrenn @comingupwithacoolnameishard @fanfictionsforallfandoms @katierpblogg @notebookgirl30 @poorguys-head @cnco-much @nyxie75 @alievans007 @mjlock @criminallyhamilton @stargazelaurens @idontknowwhatsgoingonokay @the-middle-oldest-child @acciovisio @pagetcult @aidela @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @mattsmasterlist - lmk if i missed u on the taglist so i can add u in the future!!

THAT AFTERNOON—

"Alex, you are literally the worst person alive," Y/N groaned, flopping back on his couch, and Alex raised an eyebrow. He walked over to join her from his kitchen, toting both their drinks and a shit-eating grin.

"Aw, c'mon, what do you mean?" he asked brightly. "I only ever have your best interests at heart."

"Oh, of course," she scowled, narrowing her eyes at him, but the satisfaction that flashed in his eyes didn't dull. "Why do you care so much about whether he and I are fucking, anyway?"

"I don't." He shrugged. "But you and John are my best friends, and it's exhausting to have to plan everything around making sure you and him aren't fighting."

"Why can't he and I just be grudging acquaintances, then? Why must it be more than that?" Y/N turned her head to him with a wistful sigh, and though it softened, Alex's expression was persistently smug. He gave her a disbelieving look.

"I've been asking you to make peace with him for years, and this is the only progress I've made."

"Progress you've made?" Y/N muttered to herself, eyeing him skeptically.

"So if you and him hooking up is what it takes, I'm all for it."

"Do you not realize it's just gonna take it us annoyed to wildly uncomfortable?" Though her exterior was dramatic, arms crossed and a pleading pout plastered on, Y/N's concerns were unfortunately deep-rooted in insecurities. The next time she'd have to face him would likely be hell, and there was no getting around that — as such, she intended to put it off for as long as possible.

"You avoid him anyway; it can't get any worse." Alex gave her a pointed look.

"Yeah, but now I'll be avoiding him while both on-edge and anxious," she shot back, jabbing him in the side when he took a seat beside her. "How the fuck do you expect me to face him after he called me out for calling him hot? How in the hell am I supposed to recover from that?"

"Sleep with him?" Alex suggested mildly, and Y/N scowled.

"You're lucky I like Eliza, because if I didn't know it'd break her heart, I may have killed you a long time ago."

"But if I was dead, who'd be around to help you get laid?" he asked innocently, and she groaned, shoving him that time — hard.

"You mean who'd wreck my dignity and make a mess of my social life?" she huffed, but her own words gave her pause. "...Lafayette, probably."

"I do a better job of it." He shrugged, taking a sip of his lemonade, and she glared at him. "What?"

"Do you know what an inconvenient friend you are?"

"'Inconvenient' is probably the nicest thing you've called me all day."

"It's well-deserved."

"We both know I enhance your life." He grinned at her, but she avoided his self-contented gaze, instead reaching down to put the glass he'd handed her onto his coffee table. "If I didn't, you would've ditched me a while back."

"Didn't I just mention that I only put up with you for Eliza's sake?" She raised an eyebrow, but his expression turned concerned as she eyed him.

"Are you telling me you can't think of a single step to take before making my death look like an accident?"

"It's the easiest way."

"How?"

She laughed when she saw the incredulous look on his face, and she gave a pleased half-shrug, pulling her legs onto his couch beside her. "First, then I don't have to deal with our friends trying to play peacemakers, and second, I get to give a kickass eulogy at your funeral."

"That's morbid."

"I consider it good planning." She gave him a challenging look as she took a sip of her drink, and Alex just rolled his eyes.

"Even if you do call a hitman on me, you'll still have to face John eventually."

"Not if I can help it," she grumbled, but her sullen tone made him laugh.

"If that's the case, you're gonna want to head out of here pretty soon," he warned her, but Y/N just eyed him suspiciously, seemingly hesitant.

"... Meaning?"

Alex shrugged, checking his watch. "He's coming over at three is what I mean."

"He what?!" Y/N's eyes widened. She shot up from her spot on the couch, immediately darting back toward the kitchen to grab her bag and laptop charger. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me that before? It's 2:55, Alex."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd have a problem with it. You didn't seem to on the night you slept with him."

"Alex!" she shrieked, looking back at him with wide eyes. She let out an incredulous huff, shaking her head. "God, you set this up, didn't you? I cannot believe you."

"Relax, I didn't do anything," he defended, and annoyance was clear in his tone. She was too distracted to reply, however, taking inventory of her bag instead. Laptop, laptop charger, water bottle, wallet, textbook— Oh, shit. Her phone charger was missing, and her phone along with it.

She immediately began scouring the granite surfaces of the apartment's kitchen, frantically pulling out drawers and overturning dishtowels.

"What are you doing?"

She only spared Alex a glance, but he was watching her with his brow furrowed, concern written deep into his small frown. She huffed.

"I need my phone. I can't leave without it."

Her wild search continued for another moment, much to the dismay of the paper towel rack she knocked over and the food processor she inadvertently unplugged, but Alex just pursed his lips. "I dunno about your phone, but your charger's in my room. You let me borrow it an hour ago."

Her face lit up with his words, eyes widening, and she didn't miss another beat before hurrying down his hall. Maybe her phone would be somewhere back there, too, with any luck at all. By the time she reached the charger, discarding Alex's phone back onto his bed, the time read 2:59. But where was her phone?

At that rate, if John showed up on time, she was royally fucked.

It was three minutes of haphazard digging through closets and side rooms later that she found it sitting on the side of the sink in his bathroom. At that point, she hadn't heard any voices coming from the living room, so as she sorted through everything in her bag one final time, her mind was all but at ease (though, her heart was pounding — she was still running on a deadline).

"Alright, Lex, I'm gonna run." She emerged from the hall with everything in order, ready to flee with what was left of her dignity. "I just need to grab my shoes, and—"

It was only then that she finally glanced up, only to see that Alex hadn't left his place on the couch, but this time, he wasn't alone.

As the cruelty of fate would have it, beside him sat John Laurens, eyeing her wide-eyed stare with barely-contained amusement, and she froze, all but skidded to a halt.

A moment passed in complete silence, and it was Alex who finally broke it. "What were you saying?"

She let out a shaky breath, and when she finally continued, her words were quiet. "I, um, just need my coat and my jacket..." she trailed off, every muscle in her body tense, before she remembered herself, shaking off her shock. "I mean, my coat and my shoes. I... I'll just be on my way."

John was grinning at how off-guard she appeared, too nervous to take even a step forward for a moment after she spoke. Her skittish gaze darted between him and Alex, and when she caught John's gaze, his smile broadened. She didn't hold his stare for more than a split second, almost immediately ducking her head, continuing quickly forward and pulling the strap of her bag up her shoulder. John laughed softly.

"Come on, I don't even get a 'hello'?"

Though she glanced back at him, the look in her eyes was bitter. "I don't have the energy for this right now."

As she pulled her jacket on, he shook his head, entertainment permeating his demeanor. "If you really wanted nothing to do with me, you could've just ignored my messages, you know. You didn't have to reply." He raised a taunting eyebrow, and she just rolled her eyes.

"Your point?"

"Do you really want me to spell it out?" At his words, she scowled, turning her focus back to tying her shoes, and he let out a huff of laughter. "Relax, I'm just messing with you."

"Hilarious. I'm practically in tears," Y/N responded dryly. That time, it was Alex who responded with a scoff.

"Seriously? You two fucked and you still can't go three minutes without bickering?" His disbelieving words were met with immediate protest from both of them, but it only made Alex look beyond vindicated.

"C'mon, I didn't say shit!" John defended, and Y/N gave a bitter laugh.

"Oh, congrats! You win; I'm just the worst," she said, plastering on a mocking pout. It was then that she stood, looking John up and down with contempt; he only met her annoyed look with a smile. "Bye, Alex. I'll show myself out."

She turned on her heel without another word, starting toward his apartment door, but she caught John's quiet chuckle as she swung it open.

"See you soon, Y/N!" John called after her, and when the door slammed shut behind her, she could hear Alex's laugh. Her face burned.

THAT NIGHT—

"Can we talk?"

Y/N whirled around with a start.

It was finally the night of Eliza's birthday party. Alex and Eliza had kept the group fairly small, close friends and family only, but Y/N couldn't help but feel crowded out in Alex's open living room. Music was blasting — Hercules had made sure of that, deciding it was his responsibility to play DJ for the night — and there was an abundance of drinks, which had its pluses and minuses.

In any case, a room full of drunk people with the sober crowd quickly waning had Y/N exhausted, especially when she and John were two of the few left who weren't five beers deep. Her hyperawareness of where he was at all times was taking up a disproportionately large portion of the room, as far as she was concerned.

And that was why she'd ducked away around halfway through the night. It was already after dark, and as far as she was aware, she'd managed to escape Lafayette's enthusiastic round of karaoke without being noticed, slipping down the hall covertly.

Though she found solace in his guest room, she hadn't realized she'd been followed.

"John," she said breathlessly, stunned to see him standing in the doorway.

"Hey," was all he said. His expression was neutral, expectant as he watched her, leaning against the doorway. "Can I come in, or are you dead-set on avoiding me?"

His words caught her by surprise; she hadn't been expecting to be called out so point-blank. "Yeah. You can come in."

His footsteps were slow after he pushed himself off of the doorway's side. "You look nice."

Her eyebrows shot up. "... Thanks." She folded her arms when he neared her, taking a subconscious step back. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

He hesitated a moment, tongue in cheek, before speaking. "I... don't get you, Y/N."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows were furrowed as she eyed him. Heavy hesitance lay in her gaze.

"Mhm. Do you have a problem with me?" He quirked a brow, but his expression otherwise remained neutral. Her inability to read any sort of intention in his eyes heightened the nerves growing in her every breath.

"I... no? I just..." She narrowed her eyes, and as he took another step forward, head cocked to one side, she took one back. The door fell shut behind him. "I don't think we have a history, but you just seem to take so much enjoyment out of antagonizing me."

"'Antagonizing you'?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yes, antagonizing me. I've seen you three times this week and you've really seemed to enjoy pissing me off," she bit back, taking a step toward him, that time, to point an accusatory finger at him. "Why?"

"What have I possibly tone to piss you off?" he asked, voice laden with disbelief, giving a dramatic shrug with his hands still tucked in his pockets.

"Are you fucking serious?" Y/N let out a soft huff of bitter laughter. "No. No, I cannot bring myself to believe that you're just so oblivious that you can't tell when what you're saying is bothering me."

"I've said nothing vindictive to you, Y/N," he said, and his step forward again pushed her one back. "You can't pretend I'm the problem, here. Why are you so set on hating me?" The squint in his searching gaze had her on edge; he stood between her and the room's entrance, the space only lit by the low glow of a single bedside lamp, and he didn't stop encroaching upon her space. She was quickly beginning to feel trapped.

"I'm not." She scowled, but when she processed his words a moment later— "Wait. Are you implying I'm the problem here?"

"If the shoe fits." He raised a challenging eyebrow, and Y/N could feel the skin of her neck begin to heat. "Seriously, nothing ever went down between us, at least, as far as I know. Did I do something?"

"No, you just—" She cut herself off as she tried to articulate exactly what marked the tension perpetually between them in the air, her lips pursed. "I just can't—" Again, she stopped herself short, letting out a huff.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No," Y/N scoffed, but her gaze was growing antsier and antsier by the second, darting up and down his stature, around the room. He took another step forward, and her continuing to retreat finally backed her into the guest bed, the backs of her thighs hitting the soft comforter.

"You sure?" Then, there were less than two feet of space between them, and a small smile had begun to tug at John's lips.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, but her trying to mask how unsettled she was with heated bitterness didn't work as well as she'd thought.

"Oh, really?" When he began to close the limited proximity between them, she could feel her heart rate begin to spike, and her unease must have been written across her face. His smile widened. "I don't make you nervous? Not even a little?"

"Oh my god, you're so cocky," she huffed, taking a step back toward him to shove him by the chest, but he caught her wrist before she could get a chance. By then, he could feel her pulse picking up. They were nearly chest-to-chest, and he raised an eyebrow. "You're fucking enjoying this, aren't you?"

"And if I am?" He raised an eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes.

"Then you're kind of a dick."

"Oh, and you aren't enjoying this, then?" He looked far too smug for her liking. "Or are you a little too flustered for that, right now?"

He reached up to take her face in one of his hands, and the sudden, bold action only left her more rattled. His fingers skimmed along the skin of her jaw, and she fixed back on a glare, replacing her unfortunate wide-eyed gawking. "Oh, shut up."

"Or what, Y/N?" His other hand released her wrist, instead falling to her hip as he erased the few inches that still separated them.

"Or, I... Or..." She let out a grunt of frustration, pushing his shoulders, but he anchored her to his body by her waist.

"Or what?"

"Fuck you," she sneered, but she didn't waste another moment in throwing her arms around his neck, tangling a hand into his hair, and pressing her lips to his.

He had no hesitations about responding in kind, apparently, meeting her with all but bruising force. He hitched one of her legs up over his hip, his lips beginning to trail down her neck before he shoved her, her back meeting Alex's sheets as her eyes snapped open wide.

He didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed after her, yanking her head back by her hair so he could suck a hickey into her neck. "Y'know, that's not a terrible idea," he muttered against her skin.

"You're so obnoxious," she groaned, but her body relaxed in his grip as his hands found the lower hem of her shirt, tugging it out of where it was tucked into the waist of her jeans.

"You don't seem to mind." He raised an eyebrow as she began unbuckling his belt, pulling him closer by the belt loops.

"Just fuck me," she said breathlessly, and he laughed.

"Not so fast, baby." He pulled away from her with his words, leaving her balking at him as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back into place, and lowered himself from the bed, standing up and adjusting his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Her words were indignant as she propped herself onto her elbows, and he just grinned down at her. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"You forgot to lock the door."

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years

Text

Is She the Reason? - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader

Summary: When a heart breaks, no it don’t break even.

Warning(s): Aaaaangst, cussing, mentions of cheating, threats of violence :)

Word count: 1,824

Author’s Note: It’s finally here! I promise Imma give y’all some fun sexy Angel in my next fic. I had a couple people ask about a taglist so I guess I have one now. Lol. If anyone wants to be added, please let me know! As always questions, comments, and concerns are welcome. My inbox is open. Enjoy!

TAGLIST: @holland23567 @trulysuccubus

It had been almost a month since you’d seen Angel or even been to the clubhouse. Bishop stopped by to check on you and you steadfastly refused to give him any details about the breakup. He told you he’d fuck Angel up if you asked, but you didn’t want that. Plus Chucky had already told you about the punch and you didn’t want to bring anymore drama into the club. One of the many reasons you didn’t want to date anyone in the MC in the first place.

It had been a rough couple of weeks. For so long you alternated between being angry and sad and finally you were just beginning to feel tired of it all. Heartbreak was exhausting. You stayed mostly cooped up in your home. You blocked Angel from being able to call or text you and the one time he showed up at your doorstep you threatened to call your shotgun toting father if he didn’t leave.

Currently, you were at the diner enjoying a lunch date with your best friend who was on her lunch break from work. You were dressed in your usual casual cute wear, with your hair up in afro puffs. It was weirdly comforting to have that hairstyle in. It reminded you of your childhood and it made you feel good. You knew the risk of seeing Angel would be great and you’d be damned if you let him see you looking a mess. Your pride couldn’t handle that on top of everything else.

You probably shouldn’t have thought about him because there he was walking through the doors and heading straight towards you. All you could do was sigh loudly.

“Hey y/n, can I talk to you?” He asked, quietly. The usual swagger he had was muted and he seemed nervous. Never thought you’d see the day.

“You must be outta your mind. There are knives on this table. Tell me right now why I shouldn’t stab you where you stand.” Your best friend asked, though the question was rhetorical. You knew she felt betrayed and angry on your behalf, but also on hers. She felt bad that she had pushed you to talk to him all those years ago. He looked like he didn’t think she would do it but you spotted her hand inching towards a steak knife so you placed your hand over it first and slid it towards yourself.

“Your lunch break is practically over. You better head back to work before you’re late.” You told her, trying to stop a bloodbath from happening. Plus, deep down you knew you two needed to talk. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

It was her turn to sigh as she looked at the time. “You’re so lucky, fuckboi. Move.” She demanded, glaring at Angel and he took a step back as she slid out of the booth. “I’ll call you after my shift. Don’t give this pendejo too much of your time.” She kissed you on the cheek and gave him one more death glare before walking out.

Angel just quietly slid in the booth across from you and took her place. No one said anything as you both stared at each other before you couldn’t look at him any longer and averted your eyes. “What do you want?”

“I miss you.” He stated and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped you.

“You gotta be kidding me. Bye Angel.” You did not wanna hear that shit so you started to move out of the booth.

“Wait.” He grabbed your wrist. “Don’t leave...please.”

“When I said don’t touch me again,” You began, snatching your arm away. “I meant that. What could we possibly have to talk about? How you’re a liar and a cheater? A fucking coward that let me confront him on his bullshit because he couldn’t fess up to it. Is that what you wanna talk about?” The anger came back in full force as you remembered everything he did. All the lies he had to tell to keep the affair going. He let you feel like you were being paranoid when you knew something was off. He made you doubt yourself and that more than anything, pissed you all the way off. “You were fucking her right under my nose. I bet you couldn’t wait to get in her pants.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh it wasn’t? Please tell me what it was like then. On top of all of that, you have the audacity to tell me you love me?”

“I do love you.” He stubbornly repeated and before you could stop yourself your temper hit the roof.

You slammed your hand on the table hard enough that the dishes shook and loudly proclaimed, “You don’t love me! You don’t even love yourself, Reyes! Because if you did, you wouldn’t have ruined the best thing in your life.”

Your outburst garnered attention from other patrons and workers in the diner and you felt only slightly embarrassed. You talked yourself down in your mind and took several slow breaths. You really didn’t want to cause a scene but he just pressed your buttons. Your hand vaguely throbbed, but you ignored it wanting to hang on to your anger for longer.

Angel was silent for a moment. He wanted to actually think before he spoke. A rarity for him. “It really was just work at first. The Rebels needed so much help and I was out there for so long that we just got close. She was so passionate about the cause and selfless with the kids. I got caught up in a moment...in a feeling. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“And where does that leave me? Four years, Angel. I gave you four years of my life. I gave you all of me. I dealt with all the shit that came with being with you because I loved you and I wanted you. You get caught up in a moment and my life is changed forever, but I’m just supposed to forgive you?” You scoffed and shook your head at him. “And you weren’t just caught up in a moment. I saw you two. It’s not just a sexual thing. You can lie to me but don’t lie to yourself. I tried for so long to reach you and you gave me nothing back. I knew something was going on. I much would have preferred you just tell me.”

The truth of your words hit him and his chastised face said it all. “I’m sorry, querida-“ He began, but you sharply corrected him.

“Don’t call me that. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry, y/n. So sorry. I was too ashamed to admit what was happening. And I thought I could keep it all separated, but...things didn’t work out that way.” The thing with Adelita spun out of control faster than he could control it.

A feeling of resignation was slowly coming over you. A part of you was still upset, but you’d already played this through your head a million times. Nothing he said could change anything. This conversation merely confirmed that you needed to move on. “You know what’s the worst part of all this? I told you in the beginning that this would happen. And I asked you not to let it. You promised me you wouldn’t and yet here we are. I knew you weren’t ready and I let you sweet talk me and I fell for you. Now you’re just another man to disappoint me.”

Angel’s eyes briefly closed as the weight of your words hit him hard again. He never wanted to be a disappointment in your life. He wanted to be responsible for your smiles and your joy. He just wanted to love you, but he didn’t do it the right way and he fucked it all up. He was so conflicted inside. He wished he had never agreed to help the rebels.

It felt good to tell him how much he hurt you, but there was nothing left for you to say. You weren’t completely healed and being around him for this long still stung. You’d never admit it, but there was still a side of you that wanted to be back in his arms. Only your stubbornness kept you in check. “Look, we're gonna eventually have to be around each other. I’m not giving up on my relationship with Bishop because of you. He’ll always be family. But let me tell you right now that we are not friends. I will tolerate you at best. Maybe one day we’ll be acquaintances but there is no guarantee. More than the heartbreak, it’s the disrespect and disloyalty that I can’t easily forgive. Or forget.”

He racked his mind for something to say back. The perfect thing that would bring you back to him or just make things better, but he didn’t know what to say. “I understand,” was all he could manage.

You dropped enough cash on the table to pay for lunch and generously tip your server before getting up. You had nothing else to say to him. You didn’t even bother with a goodbye. You just walked out of the diner and into the parking lot. As you walked to your car, an SUV pulled up next to you and you smiled at the person you saw step out.

Angel stayed seated and stared at the table. He was still hoping the right words would come to him. Maybe he just needed to give you more space. He still didn’t know what to do about Adelita, but deep inside he wasn’t ready to let you go either. He knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help his feelings. He lifted his head to watch you speed away in your car but when he did his stomach dropped at what he saw.

You were standing there talking with Nestor. He didn’t realize you two knew each other. Where did that fucker even come from? Whatever Nestor was saying brought out the first smile from you that Angel had seen in a long time. You reached out to pull his braid over his shoulder and Angel didn’t know that asshole well, but he didn’t seem like the type to just let anyone touch his hair. Nestor had the softest look on his face as he looked at you.

He pulled you into a hug and Angel watched as your body practically collapsed in his arms. Angel remembered when you’d do the same to him. When you trusted him enough to be vulnerable and show that tired side of you. Nestor’s hand settled on the back of your neck as he pulled you close. His hand massaged your neck and you just stood there with your face buried in his chest. It was enough to make Angel’s fists clench.

It hurt to watch you with someone else. Was this how you felt when you saw him with Adelita? Nestor’s interest was clear and even if you weren’t ready now, it was obvious one day you would be. He doubted Nestor would be a fool like him. Karma sure has a sense of humor.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #hhgbyebruh fics #is she the reason

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