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riordanness · 1 year ago

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nightmare dressed like a daydream — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: nightmares and reader has ptsd

requested: no (but feel free to <3)

As usual, the nightmares hit as soon as I close my eyes.

Memories of the life I used to live, the people who used to control my every waking minute. The ache of my bones, the pounding of my head, the intense loneliness that would try to consume me.

Will had been the light shining through the darkness of my life, but in my dreams, he never came back for me.

I was left stranded in Mrs Scrubbit’s chicken coop, or left to scrub and scrub the dirt from a pile of clothes that never ended.

I would often wake in a cold sweat, or screaming, or crying, or sometimes all of them at once. My hands would be clenched so tightly around the sheets that my knuckles would be white. My breathing would be heavy, and I’d be near impossible to calm down.

Except for when Willy Wonka was there. Because that boy was a miracle.

Just his touch, and a few gentle words would slow my heart rate. My breathing would calm, and I would focus on reality again.

Reality was being safe. It was being with Willy, helping him make his astounding chocolates. Reality was being happy every day. Being free everyday. Reality was falling in love with Willy Wonka.

Tonight, my dreams were much the same. I was small, and alone, and the darkness and freezing cold of the chicken coop were smothering me. The awful smell filled my nose, I was chilled to the bone, and I had almost given up.

But just at the moment when Willy was supposed to show up and rescue me, whisk me away to safety and to freedom, he didn’t come. He didn’t show up at all.

He left me there to be trapped forever.

I wake with a start, a strangled cry choking out of me. Tears are still fresh on my cheeks, and my chest heaves with sobs.

Barely a moment passes before my bedroom door opens. Willy rushes through, and drops to his knees on the floor beside my bed.

“Hey, hey,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He reaches for me, pulling me close to his chest. I cry into his shirt, fists clutching at the material.

“You… I was… alone,” I cry, utterly distraught. You’d think, after having the same nightmare every night for weeks now, that I’d be a little less sensitive to it, but it was so painful every time. Painful in a way I just couldn’t describe properly.

The thought of not having Willy in my life, this boy who now meant the entire world to me, this boy who had rescued me from my terrible life and set me free, that realisation of him leaving me there hurt like nothing else.

Waking up to realise it was just a dream, and that Willy would never do that, was so relieving I just cried even more.

But here, wrapped in his arms, I knew I was safe. I knew I didn’t need to worry about being alone anymore. Because I wasn’t. I had Willy Wonka by my side, and I probably always will.

“I would never leave you,” Willy whispers into my hair, as his fingers play with a strand of it.

I wonder if maybe he can read my thoughts. He always seems to know the exact right thing to say to make me feel better, to ease my worries and anxieties and to calm me right down.

“You never need to worry about being alone again.”

His words are like a sip of hot chocolate, warm and comforting, spreading that happy feeling all over me.

“Hey,” Willy says in a hushed voice. “Can you let me go for a second, sweetheart?”

I realise how tightly I’m clutching onto him, and I quickly let him go. “Sorry,” I say, brushing my tears away with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry.”

Willy shakes his head. “No you don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault you had to experience all of that. It’s perfectly natural to have nightmares about it.”

He gets to his feet. “I’m going to just grab my suitcase, and I’m going to make you something.”

I ease myself back onto my pillows, trying to hold onto the feeling of relaxation I feel while in Willy’s arms a little longer. “Okay.”

He disappears, and quickly returns with his case, which he sets on my desk. He sits down, rummages for a while, and soon enough, comes back over to me with two items. A mug, and a small piece of chocolate.

Willy sits gingerly on the edge of my bed. “Hot chocolate,” he says, handing me the mug, “for obvious reasons.”

“Hot chocolate is the world's best beverage invention,” I quote him, a small smile playing around my mouth.

Willy nods, and grins, and holds out his palm. On it lies a little circular chocolate, silvery blue in colour. Right in the middle is a little symbol of a… snake? No, two snakes, intertwined around a little stick.

A caduceus, I think. The ancient Greek symbol of medicine.

I pick up the chocolate, holding it carefully between my fingers. “What is it?”

Willy shrugs. “Try it and see.”

I pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. Instantly, I feel a strange but delicious feeling crawling all over me,

I swallow, and the warm feeling only spreads further. Everything inside of me seems to relax, like melted chocolate and a smile has been injected into all my muscles and nerves.

“What is this?” I ask, looking up at him. For the first time since he came in, I really notice how tired he looks. His eyes are slightly glazed-over, his curls are unkempt and messily splayed across his forehead. His shirt is rumpled, but his smile is still as bright as it always is.

“It’s… uh, just something I made for you.” He looks away as he answers.

I laugh lightly. “Well, of course. But what is it?”

My best friend glances back at me. “Love,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s love.”

I have no idea why or how, but just his words fill me with more warmth and joy than any amount of chocolate ever could.

“I love you,” Willy says.

“I love you too,” I admit slowly, my eyes suddenly too shy to look at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiles, and I’m sure it’s brighter than the sun itself. “I’m glad.” He leans forward and presses his mouth to mine, and I swear, sugary sweets couldn’t compare at all.

#wonka #willy wonka #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka 2023 #willy wonka movie #wonka movie #wonka movie 2023 #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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dee-the-red-witch · 7 months ago

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…a lot of folks just see themselves in the mirror. Before I came out and started my transition, I mostly saw static- I'd gotten really good at making my brain just tune out what I was feeling about what I was seeing. But once I stopped hiding from myself? The litany my brain went through every time I saw my own face was way too loud and clear.

Chin too wide. Forehead too big. Brow ridge is massive, you have to keep your eyebrows constantly raised just help hide it. Where's your upper lip? It doesn't matter if that's been your hairline from birth, that fivehead is terrible.

And more. It was even worse before I'd started laser for my facial hair and found a stylist that does amazing work reshaping my eyebrows. And none of it is vanity. It's just my brain doing it's own best to hurt itself with all the reminders of a puberty that went in the wrong direction. Of the fact that I wasn't a girl.

And I want to point out something- all these features I've listed? They're all present in cis women. Gorgeous cis women. There's nothing inherently male about any of these. Hells, on a good day, I pass as a woman in public without much issue, which is something I never thought would happen.

But this isn't about passing. It also isn't about ultimately going stealth and hiding the fact that I'm trans. I fully intend to stay loud about that for the rest of my life. It's about being able to look in the mirror and not want to scream about everything that doesn't match what's in my head at all. It's about making that list shut up. I can see past it sometimes. Just sometimes. But that's why the second of these two surgeries I'm having needs to happen. So I can see it more often. So I can be myself, without the horror movie litany in my head.

And the fix for it? In my case it's the following, since I didn't want to deal with implants or fillers. Bone reduction in the chin and brow- make the former narrower and reduce the brow ridge entirely. Adjust the upper lip with a slight pull upwards, done just under the nose. Since my skin's going to be loose from the removed bone, use it to pull things a bit further by bringing my hairline forward and down a touch. That';s it. slight adjustments that'll leave my face looking like I got hit by a truck for the first six months of recovery, but afterwards, a face more like what I expect to see in the mirror.

And yes, this post is happening because GFM once again reminds me to give detail and insight about the medical needs I need covered to my audience. And for those of you unfamiliar, maybe it at least gives some perspective. I don't think they quite knew what they were asking for with these particular cases, and I'm hoping I didn't just horrify the lot of you with this. But when it comes to asking 'why I need to do this'? This is part of it. Making some of my life that much less of a struggle.

Anyways, thanks for taking the time on reading through this one if you've gotten this far. If you can, please, again, share this fundraiser around- I've got a long way to go still, but I'm hoping I'll be able to make it.

137 days to go.

#gfm #transgender #transfem #gofundme #help #signal boost #cw dysphoria

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graveyardgremlins · 1 month ago

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WIP ALERT WIP ALERT

What makes death so special that everyone seems so scared to talk about it? It is not as if, in this universe, it’s the end of the line. Not really. If anything, it felt more like the beginning of something.

Now, routine feels like the end of it all. Even when you’re a vigilante and everyday is a surprise, it still feels like slowly withering away. Like, if you stop moving you’re going to start rotting on the spot. But for some reason, people love routine and hate death.

Dick, for example, constantly looks terrified. It’s not obvious, as no feeling in our faces is ever obvious, but I can tell it’s there. He once said, mournfully, that we would bury Bruce like he is now, with jet black hair. The thought upset him, but I still don’t understand why. It’s not as if Bruce cares. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to speed up the process.

And sure, it would suck not to be able to see someone you care about ever again. But if Dick truly is so scared of missing Bruce, he can go knocking on Constantine’s door — or Zatanna’s, or Madame Xanadu’s, or Doctor Fate’s, or Jason Blood’s, or… you get my point — and ask for a seance. Besides, it’s not as if you can say the guy wasted his life. No one on this Earth has more accomplishments under his belt than Batman himself.

So why the long face?

Like, sure I get why they look weird every time I bring up my past death. I was a kid and all that. But they seriously need to stop looking at me like I’m planning to kill myself everytime I bring up my future death. I’m not planning to die any time soon, but what if I do? Are they going to lose their shit again?

I mean, Tim literally cloned his best friend as a manner to bring him back from the dead because he couldn’t cope with him being gone. Not to say I’m terribly worried about the Imposter missing me so much as to clone me, but still. What if I die? Are they going to try to bring me back? Because I don’t think I want that.

Death was easy, you know? It was awful up until the point where it wasn’t. I don’t remember much, but I remember being warm and embraced. And then someone dragged me back screaming and kicking. Then I woke up boiling alive, with the skin falling off my bones in the middle of the Assassin’s League Headquarters.

I’m not particularly excited about being boiled alive again.

No one in this family knows how to let go and Bruce is the worst one. I used to be so mad that his grief wasn’t enough to make him kill the Joker. I wanted him to prove that he loved me like he said he did. But I was a recently deceased and resurrected teenager. I firmly believe that the only reason Jesus reacted better to being murdered is because he was already thirty three. Now, as an adult, I’m less mad.

Bruce deals with grief like this: he doesn’t. He lets it eat him away. I think he likes it, the feeling of rotting from the inside out. Maybe that’s why he likes routine too. I think he has a lot of love inside of him that, instead of showing it, he reschedules it. Like he thinks “tomorrow I’ll show it” and then never does. And when I died, maybe he didn’t have anywhere to put that love anymore. There wouldn’t be any more “tomorrows.” So he just rotted.

It’s why I try not to be jealous about how endlessly patient and affectionate he is with Damian. Or how careful he is with Tim. Or how much interest he takes in everything Duke does. Or how he always listens when Steph talks. Or how he always comes when Cass calls him. At least, I served to teach him a lesson.

So, yeah, when I got an invitation to a Ghost Ball, I didn’t tell anyone. Because they don’t understand why I linger in the cemetery. They don’t understand why I kill, when they believe I should be the first one to be against death. They don’t understand why I keep talking about dying over and over and over. They just don’t get it.

Also, they would totally ruin this moment for me. I’m sure of it.

How many times do you get invited to a ball? Not those shitass galas the Waynes always go to. A real authentic 1800’s ball. With the lettering cursive invitation, sprayed with some kind of perfume, sealed with a gold wax coat of arms. Not only that! To what was an official celebration to the Ghost King’s 21th birthday.

I didn’t even know there was a Ghost King!

Sure, it’s probably a trap. This kind of thing is always a trap. But they had addressed the invitation to “The Red Knight of Gotham, Avenger of the Damned, Cursebreaker, Three Times Born, Wielder of the All-Blades, the Darkest Star” and, if I am to be honest, flattery will get you everywhere with me.

I’m not entirely sure what the “Darkest Star” was in reference to, but it’s the least of my concern. The theme of the ball was Black, White and Neon Green, which completely fucks up my aesthetic. The last time I wore green I was a Robin and I’m particularly inclined to never wear it again. I’m also not wearing a tuxedo. Maybe a black suit over the armor instead of the usual jacket and a neon green handkerchief.

Now the problem is getting fitted for a suit like that. Every rich motherfucker knows that just sending your measurements to a tailor that never met you in person before is the recipe for a disaster. And sure as hell there is not a single tailor in the Crime Alley. Not that I know of. And there is no way in hell, or heaven or wherever the flying fuck the Infinity Realms were, I’m showing up to a real ball looking anything short of dreamy.

So, I did the reasonable thing and texted Alfred.

If you could come by the Manor, Master Jason, I will see what can be done. He texted back.

There is a theory going around the midst of superheroes that says that the one thing all of the bats have in common is how stubborn we are. It’s true, but I don’t think we learned that from Bruce. I’m pretty sure that’s just the Pennyworth in all of us. That man clearly only still works as a butler at 65 and calls us all “master”, “miss”, “mister” and “ma’am” out of pure stubbornness. I have no evidence of this, but I’m working on the theory that someone at some point betted that he would crack eventually, which is why he hasn’t. That I know of.

So, I showed up at the Manor like he asked me to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked.

“I live here,” I answered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Unless someone touched my room, which I doubt, then yes, I do.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Last week. I dropped by to move all your furniture 1 inch to the left counterclockwise.”

“I knew it! I knew someone was touching my stuff! Steph said I was crazy!”

“You are, but I touched your stuff. Like all of it. Including your Monster collection. You should really clean that, by the way. It’s disgusting.”

“Fuck you.”

Someone cleaned their throat and we both turned around to see Alfred standing in the hallway, looking less than impressed. I’m pretty sure we learned that from him too.

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim said.

Alfred sighed and then turned his frown towards me.

“What? I didn’t curse.”

He raised one pointed eyebrow and that’s all it took.

“Sorry for touching your stuff, Timberlake,” I said and turned to Alfred again. “Happy?”

“I suppose that will suffice.”

“Yeah, fine,” Tim agreed and moved out of the way to let me in. “Just never do it again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it again.”

“Why?!”

“Dick told me to stop whining and start getting on that, and I quote, ‘big brother grind’, so you and the Demon brat are going to have to endure it.”

“Why not Duke?”

“He is obviously my favorite.”

Tim just groaned and followed us to one of the upstairs closet.

“What are we doing anyway?”

“We are doing nothing. You weren’t invited.”

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit,” Alfred said, ignoring me.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“What are you? A Toddler? Why do you think?”

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to the galas—”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“And you’re definitely not going on a date—”

“Wait, why?”

“Because.”

I turned around to fully face him. “What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Just because,” Tim made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know.”

“You know,” He gestured again. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“You’re chronically single.”

“What?!”

Tim threw himself on one of the sofas that was turned towards the closet and sank into it. “Chronically single. Chronically, meaning in a persistent and recurring—”

“I know what chronically single means!”

“Then you know.”

“I’m not chronically single!”

“How long ago was your last relationship and how long did it last?”

“That does not mean I’m chronically single! I get bitches all the time!”

“Perhaps, Master Jason, refraining from referring to your partners in a demeaning manner might be the first step to improving your romantic aptitudes.”

“I don’t– I’m not– Ugh!”

“Try this suit on. I think it will be the closest to your current measurements.”

I took the suit from his hand and closed the closet door behind me.

“So,” Tim said, “If you’re not going to a gala, you’re not going to a date, then where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s not a birthday, because I’m pretty sure none of your friends is an Aquarius–”

He kept talking and I tuned him out. The pants were a bit too tight around the knees, so they would have to fix that, and the jacket sleeves were a little too short. Besides that, I liked the red lining inside, as well as the flower pattern that almost disappeared into the black. It wasn’t very on the theme, and I would risk looking a bit christmassy, but it would be worth it. I did need a neon green handkerchief, though.

“It can’t be Two-Face, because he is still in Arkham and also not your usual target. Black Mask has been quiet, so maybe him,” Tim was, somehow, still talking.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, opening the closet door to let Alfred take a look.

“People you might be planning to make a move against in a place where a suit might be necessary.”

“Maybe I just want a suit, ever thought of that?”

“You’re fitting it over armor,” Tim pointed out.

“Touché.”

“Tt, it’s too tight around your knees,” Alfred commented.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Oh, Alfred? Do you by any chance have a neon green handkerchief?”

Alfred made a face. “I do not own any monstrosity of that sort, Master Jason. Why do you ask?”

“Because the theme is Black, White and Neon Green.”

“Wait, you’re actually crashing a party?”

Alfred sighed and made another disgusted face. “In that case… This suit won’t do.”

“Sorry, Alfred. I didn’t write the dress code.”

“Of course not, Master Jason. I would expect that you would have a better sense for fashion than that.”

“And for your information, I’m not crashing a party. I was invited. Not that you know what that’s like, Stalker.”

“Who would invite you to anything?!”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon!”

“Perhaps the Zegna will look less… clown-like with a neon green handkerchief than the Armani,” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

“Did I hear, Armani?” Selina’s honey-dripping voice came from the corridor, and she poked her head inside the room. “What are you boys doing hiding here?”

“I’m getting fitted for a suit.”

“He is going to a party and I’m trying to figure out which one,” Tim answered at the same time as me.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Do you need help, Alfred?” She asked and slid into the sofa next to Tim.

“I’m afraid I am at a loss, Miss Kyle. The theme of the evening is Black, White and, ugh, Neon Green.”

She made a face very much like Alfred’s own. “Where are you going, Kit Kat? The Riddler’s birthday isn’t until July.”

“Not telling you, either.”

She pouted and pulled Tim’s face near her own, he understood what she was doing a minute later and pouted too. “Please?” They said, like children.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Selina shrugged it off, not particularly bothered, but Tim seemed to still be fixated on the issue.

“Have you tried that Slim-fit Hugo Boss brown suit, Alfred? I think it will make him look distinguished amongst the neon green aberration,” she said.

“Is it a winter party of some kind?” Tim asked.

“Not giving you any tips, Timmy.”

“Actually, Master Jason, that could help us find a better suit.”

I sighed. “I don’t think it is specifically a winter party. I think it's just a coincidence.”

“So it is a celebration of some kind!”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.”

“No need. I will find out eventually.”

Alfred brought out the Hugo Boss brown suit and held it up for Selina to see.

“I think it will clash, Miss Kyle,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Alfred,” She tapped one manicured finger to her lips. “This party is not of someone we know. Is it, Kit Kat?”

I shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Selina?” Tim asked.

“Motherly instincts.”

The door behind them opened again, this time to reveal a mildly disgruntled looking Bruce. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a sweater and sweatpants. He was definitely sick.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you sick, old man?”

He sniffed. “Seasonal allergies.”

“Jason is getting fitted for a suit,” Selina answered.

“Oh?”

“And I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh.”

“You guys are nosy,” I said.

Alfred brought out another slim-fit suit and both Selina and Bruce made a face. “Yes, I imagined so,” Alfred said, disappointed.

“What kind of party is it, chum?”

“Not telling.”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green,” Selina said, and both her, Alfred and Bruce grimaced.

“Jason, please tell me you’re not going to the Riddler’s birthday party.”

“Of course, he isn’t, silly. The Riddler’s birthday is July 21st.”

“Oh! Should I send a present?”

“It would be very polite,” Alfred said and Selina agreed.

“If this party is of someone we don’t know then it must be someone you met recently or a very long time ago. But if it was from someone you used to know, you probably wouldn’t be using an expensive suit, and if it was someone new we would have heard of it already,” Tim said.

“What makes you think it is someone we don’t know?” Bruce asked.

Selina raised her hand with a cheeky smile. “If we knew them already, little Kit Kat wouldn’t be so worried about imprrrressing them. We would have embarrassed him already.”

“I’m not worried about impressing anyone.”

“You’re getting fitted for a suit,” she pointed out.

“Yes, because I outgrew all my other suits and I can’t wear them with the armor. It’s not as if I’m buying a new one,” I rolled my eyes.

“If you’re wearing your armor are you worried about being attacked?” Bruce asked.

“Is it a mission then?” Tim asked. “Otherwise, why would you be going to a place where you might be attacked?”

“Good point, champ.”

“I’m not answering any of those questions.”

Bruce pondered for a second. “Have you tried the gray Kiton wool suit? It might null a bit of the neon green.”

“Ooh. Good idea, love.”

“Let’s see if you’re correct, Master Bruce.”

“I’m texting Dick to see if he knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Father, have you seen Alfred Jr?” Damian’s voice rang from the corridor.

“Not really, Dami.”

“He is probably in that warm spot in the library where the sun hits just right,” Selina said and stretched as if she could feel the warmth from here.

“Thank you, miss Kyle,” Damian poked his head inside. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome, Damian.”

“I live here.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked.

“Do you?” Damian asked, fully walking into the room.

You see? This is why I can’t tell them anything about this ball. Or else they will want to come with, they are nosy like that, I’d have to explain to every cute person I meet why I brought my entire family with me when the invitation didn’t even have ‘plus one’ on it.

Jesus, maybe Selina was right.

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit, Master Damian,” Alfred said and held the gray wool suit.

“Yeah, that doesn’t do it either,” Selina said.

“What is wrong with the suit?”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green.” Everyone grimaced at that. They really needed to stop repeating the same thing over and over.

“What is the occasion?”

“Kit Kat won’t tell us.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve talked to Dick!” Tim announced. “He has no idea who could be, but his best guest is someone Jason met with the Outlaws! So I’m going to text Cass, so she can text Artemis and see if she was invited to anything.”

Damian sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and pondered.

“How much have you narrowed it down?”

“Someone we don’t know, someone dangerous, possibly on a mission, not a winter party,” Bruce said.

“Birthday?”

“No gift.”

“Maybe it’s someone I don’t know enough to buy a gift to,” I said, just to throw them off.

The three of them narrowed their eyes at me.

“Yup, talked to Artemis. She doesn’t know anything,” Tim said. “Also Dick is calling.”

He put it on speaker so everyone could suffer together.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, chum.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, birdie.”

“Sup?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my temples. I could feel a migraine coming up.

“Jason! The man, the myth, the legend! Will you tell your big bro where exactly you’re going? I promise to keep it a secret.”

“Not even on your deathbed.”

Alfred brought out another suit. It was also gray and it still did not match neon green.

“C’mon, Little Wing! Don’t be like that! It can be that bad for us to know.”

“It’s out of principle.”

“That reminds me,” Tim said. “Dick, go screw yourself.”

Alfred made a face at that, but didn’t comment anything.

“Wait, why? What did I do?”

“Why did you tell Jason to ‘act like a big brother’? He touched all of my stuff!”

“I’m sure he didn’t touch all of it.”

“Oh, I didn’t look under the bed, but besides that? It will be very funny when you start finding the glitter.”

“What?!”

“Ah, is that why Jon found a lot of superboy merch I did not buy in my closet?” Damian asked. “Well, I must say that is not a good prank. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m my best friend’s biggest fan. Though, he did cry.”

“You say that now, because you haven’t found the bees.”

“What bees?”

I simply smiled. This wouldn’t work on most of my siblings, but Damian was small enough to be fooled and once he believed it, the others would follow.

“I swear to God, Jason. If I find glitter on my clothes I’m putting a skunk inside your house,” Tim said.

There was also no glitter, but now he would check everything first. Forever.

“Why would you do that to a poor innocent animal?” I said, to be contrary.

“Yeah, Tim. Leave the animals alone! It’s not their fault Little Wing started a prank war.”

“Yes, Drake. I’m disappointed you’d even think about this.”

Alfred brought out a deep blue suit. Selina sighed and slumped down the sofa and Bruce shook his head.

“Hey, Dick,” I asked. “Do you have any suits that might fit me and that will look good with neon green?”

“Why do you ask? Don’t tell me Poison Ivy is your plus one.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Poison Ivy is light green, not neon,” Tim said.

“And Ivy is too old for you,” Bruce said, pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think I’d have anything either way.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered, perhaps the color neon green or perhaps Poison Ivy.

“I figured it out!” Damian shouted suddenly. Selina flinched from the noise, and he apologized quickly. “Sorry. But I have figured it out.”

“What?” Everyone asked. I wasn’t particularly worried, it’s very hard for the little brat to have known about a King I wasn’t even aware of. Though, maybe Ra’s did know it before me.

“Regular-fit Dark Grey Virgin Wool Serge from Hugo Boss,” Damian said profoundly.

“What?” Tim asked.

“The suit that will go with neon green.”

Alfred, Selina and Bruce thought it out. “Yes, I believe that might work, Master Damian.”

“Good job, son,” Bruce said, making my insides twist painfully.

Selina simply raised her hand over Tim’s head so Damian could high five her.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is going!”

“Who would do a Neon Green party? Besides the Riddler, his birthday isn’t until July.”

“How do you even– No, actually, I don’t want to know. Thanks for the help, Demon Brat.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell us where you’re going.”

Fair enough. “To a birthday party,”

“Goddammit! It was the first thing I crossed off!”

“Of whom?”

“None of your business, old man.”

“C’mon, tell us Little Wing.”

“What are we trying to find out?” Duke asked, walking into the room. “And why is everyone here?”

“Jason is going to a birthday party and he won’t tell us who's is jt,” Tim said.

“Oh?”

“And I’m getting a suit fitted.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you whose birthday it is later.”

“Hey!”

“Wait, why?”

“Yes, why him?”

“Oh, Duke is my favorite.”

Duke smiled innocently at all the people in the room and did a little twirl.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, this is your fault. You told me to be an older sibling.”

“Older siblings don’t pick favorites!”

“Of course they do. Damian is your favorite, I’m Cass’ favorite, Duke is my favorite, and Tim is no one’s favorite.”

“Screw you!”

“Don’t worry. When Bruce adopts another one you can be their favorite.”

“I’m not adopting anyone.”

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at that — yet another thing they got from Alfred — and Selina patted his hand. “Whatever you say, love.”

Alfred fitted the suit perfectly, to the point where that one guy on twitter that talks about male clothing would applaud. And he did find a neon green handkerchief, though he would only buy it if I promised to burn it afterwards, which I swiftly agreed to. I considered bringing a present, but something I learned from the filthy rich is that it’s always better to look like an asshole rather than a fool.

And so the suit saga ends and the ball saga begins.

One would think that an interdimensional being called the Ghost King would think of better ways to direct his guests towards his party than a set of coordinates and another number, which I quickly realized to be the hour in military time. Of course, one would be wrong. So me, my bike, my beautiful suit and my weapons directed ourselves to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, literally in the middle of Nevada's desert.

God, I am going to arrive at this party covered in sand.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dead on main #fanfic #jason todd #danny fenton #dp x dc fanfic #fanfic writing #WORK IN PROGRESS #wip #jason todd x danny fenton

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zilabee · 8 months ago

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Tony Bramwell, on Yoko

- gradually, inch by inch she intruded into our lives

- It was hardly surprising that John felt some kind of electricity; but it was probably the air crackling with Yoko’s desperation

- If I were standing about with him, Yoko would come up to me and say something in her high little girl’s voice, perhaps hoping to get John to notice her [...]. John would walk off to talk to someone else, while she stared after him. In those days, Yoko was always staring after John.

- She wanted to possess John and she was the one who was exceptionally jealous. She could not cope with the fact that John could love three other guys.

- her piece de resistance, the much-reprised performance of “Cut Piece.” The scissors were wired for sound, so every cut had a horrific, almost animal sound, like a beast crunching into its human prey.

- did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. [...] Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania.

- Overnight, he no longer had a will of his own.

- ...an attempt to use Primal Scream Therapy under Arthur Janov by telephone, to free him from his heroin addiction...

- Sir Joe said he didn’t think the pictures were obscene, he had seen much worse, an opinion which confused John and Yoko. They wanted to be seen as avant-garde and enfants terribles.

- Yoko had no sense of humour at all and she loathed Phil as much as Phil hated her. Each of them was implacable and paranoid.

- I used to dread taking John and Yoko’s arty stuff into radio stations and asking them to play it. For me, it was a bad experience because it was unplayable and unlistenable. [...] The reaction was a bored, “Why are you bringing this crap to us?” At first I argued with radio producers about it, though not on a very artistic level. I even heard myself saying, “Because he pays my wages. That’s why!” It was so embarrassing.

- As far as Yoko was concerned, if you spout all this magical, healing, antiwar, be kind to everybody, all-seeing, all-caring, all-macrobiotic stuff, being pregnant on heroin would seem to be the last thing she would need. And how does all that stuff equate with shooting up smack? How does all that spiritual pontificating gel with the teaspoon and the needle, unless you’re a fraud?

- According to John, Yoko snorted [heroin], but I had no doubt that if she had used a needle, she would probably have said it was acupuncture.

- John used to like life. He used to like to get on a roll. Laugh, eat and drink. [...] proper breakfasts, an old-fashioned fry-up, pie and chips, fish and chips, fried chicken, a roast dinner on a Sunday, Chinese food, curry, spaghetti Bolognese. Everything. Then he met Yoko, grew his beard, and [...] from Irish navvy’s food, he went to heroin and macrobiotics. I think if Yoko had said it was spiritual to snort bean curd instead of eat it John would have done it.

- She and John used to whisper away in their corner, with a completely different, us-against-the-world perspective to everyone. I know they did, because filming quietly on the sidelines, I heard.

- Having discussed life and its ins and outs and meanings, and worked out that it all means nothing, John and Yoko didn’t want to, couldn’t possibly, give the edifice of the Beatles any credit, or indeed any respect.

- doubt set in because some critics and reviewers gave her favourable reviews in the press and on TV. You’d find yourself wondering if you were an intellectual failure, unable to spot the hidden value in Yoko’s art and music. [...] somehow it became important to judge Yoko as impartially as possible, mostly out of regard for John. The problem was we couldn’t accept that he could be so blinded.

- [Dan Richter] was a close confidant of [Yoko and Tony Cox]. He said he heard all their hopes and schemes to hook John, at first as a financial “angel,” then, with dawning excitement, as a lover.

- According to Dan, Tony Cox actively encouraged the affair between John and Yoko as a means of survival. He said that Cox would tell Yoko to “go get Lennon.” When John proved elusive, as he was at first, Cox told Yoko she wasn’t trying hard enough. For her part, when she saw how close she was to capturing their prey, Yoko told Dan that they’d soon be rich beyond their wildest dreams.

- Cox began to feel fragile, thinking he might get cut out. In all seriousness, he drew up an agreement that he insisted Yoko sign. This single-page document—which was drawn up and signed at Dan’s kitchen table—stated that when Yoko hooked John, they would split any cash she got from the endeavour.

#John attempting primal scream therapy by phone is everything #beatles books #john lennon #yoko ono #tony bramwell

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sabahs-stuff · 9 months ago

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Manifest appearance change. (Weight loss/gain)

(Success story)

❏First and foremost, Yeah, I know you shouldn't let go of your manifestation. Like detaching from your manifestation bla bla..

However, I have noticed that actively affirming appearance change is difficult for me because I love looking at my reflection in the mirror all the time. And I've to constantly remind myself to affirm. Every time I affirm, one of my inner voices started stating the opposite.

I weighed 47kg (I'm 5'3; I know it's the ideal weight, but I wanted to gain a little more). It was difficult for me to eat more. I believe it was about April 14 or 15. I decided to quit trying to eat more. I started to joke that I was gaining weight without eating,"are u kidding me? I'm eating nothing and also skipping dinner these days, so how tf am I gaining weight?" Some of my friends even laughed at me.🙂

Then, out of nowhere, my sister began complaining that I had gained weight, then few days ago I went to the doctor for a checkup, and they also measured my weight, it's 51KG now. Mind you, I skipped a lot of meals and wasn't eating at all. It was during the Mercury retrograde. I was quite depressed and saddened also someone so close to me died. But it took me like 10 days to gain 4kg. If that's not shocking idk what is.

So, this is what I did (•_•)

Reminder : "If you could make yourself believe that you have the exact appearance you desire, it would change"

Every time I ate, I told myself, "I should be dieting." And look at what I'M doing. I should start working out before it's too late. And that is all. Then I didn't even affirm anything during the day, ( I believe that if you make your brain believe that you're prettiest little creature on the planet and your existence is a service to the humanity then that's how it would be. And my toxic trait is that I believe my presence is a blessing to the humanity.😂

every time I looked in the mirror, I said, "Wtf? I'm gaining weight . "Shit, I need to diet." And trust me when I tell you at that exact moment your brain is going send you a thought "Stop lying; you're still skinny bitch"

But don't forget that you get to select what happens in your reality. If your mind wants to offer you lemons, make lemonade.😂

I said, "Yes, that's correct. If I want to lose my weight I need to affirm I'm still skinny" and I kept on saying "I need to lose weight or I'll gain more weight" just tricked my brain into thinking that I'm chubby and attempting to manifest becoming skinny. And I didn't focused on the end goal; I wasn't obsessed with it; I didn't give a damn about it, but whenever I noticed a little change, I freaked out as if something terrible had happened. And believe me when I say I freaked out it was Oscar worthy😂

I Remember, the first thing I noticed was that my arm was looking a bit chubby. I was screaming and even fake crying, 😭 "Damn this is embarrassing, I need to work out, I'm gaining weight." I then searched and downloaded weight loss workouts online.

Trust me I was living the moment 😂. literally living in the end. It was easy at the time because my brain was literally blank. I had no feelings or emotions, so I fed my brain whatever I wanted, and it ate every thought I gave it. I'm happy with my weight now.

I'm now 51kg this is just a photo I saved from Pinterest but this is my Desired type-

Here are some tips:

Your appearance is constantly changing with your affirmations and beliefs. So don't doubt whether this is going to work or not.

Your manifestation will take time, depending on you and your beliefs.

And about mental health, I would post about it later, but it's important.

The more you visualize, the faster it will become a reality.Visualise everything; literally, everything you want, VISUALIZE 🙌 stay in your head

The amount of things I changed and manifested in my life is crazy; it's different for each person. But it took me a year to fully understand manifestation. So give yourself time. Spend time with yourself; the better you know yourself, the better you'll get in manifestation. Best advice: talk to yourself (in your head, of course, or others would think you're crazy, lol 😹.) gossip with yourself; if you want to be tall tell yourself that you're tall and stick to it refuse to let go. ✊🏻

Hope you like it. It's my first ever post but clearly not the last 😉 feel free to ask any questions. 🩷

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year ago

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@steddiemas Day 16 Prompt: Angst Themed Sentence Starters

3. I don’t know what you want from me. and 5. I don’t want to fight with you. Not tonight.

Tags: Established Relationship, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mentions of Past Child Neglect, Protective Eddie Munson

wc: 1184 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Steve shouts, arms thrown in the air.

He’s glued to the floor in their living room watching as Eddie stalks up and down the length of the room in the dim glow of their Christmas tree. Steve’s hands are clutched around the cordless phone, double-checking that he properly hung it up.

The last thing he needs is for his mother to overhear the argument currently going on.

The same argument that happens every year, without fail.

An unofficial tradition that Steve fucking hates.

“I want you to stand up for yourself!” Eddie shouts back.

Their voices may be raised, but they’re not screaming at each other. At least, not in the ways they were raised too. Their voices may be loud, but they don’t hurl insults at each other. Nor do they shout directly at each other, shouting their concerns into the void of the room instead.

“I do stand up for myself!” Steve defends, crossing his arms.

“Not when it comes to them!” Eddie growls, flippantly waving his hand in the air. “I thought we decided after last year's disaster that we weren’t going to put up with it anymore. If your parents wanted to be in our lives, they’d be there for us every day and not just on the choice fucking holiday so you’re mom can take her family picture that conveniently always makes me look terrible.”

“I know. Okay? I know we said that!” Steve uncrosses his arms, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The other hangs limply by his thighs, opening and closing into a fist, tethering him to the moment. “But they’re still my parents!”

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “Just because a piece of paper says they’re your parents doesn’t make it true.”

“I know, but—“

“No! No buts! They’re shitty people, Steve! I’m not going to apologize for saying that because it’s the truth! They only want you around when it's convenient for them and then they leave. You might not see it, but every time they walk out that door you turn into that lonely, abandoned teenager you’ve worked so hard to grow from! I’m not going to let them keep doing that to you!”

“Eddie,” Steve huffs. He’s not wrong, not in the slightest. But it still stings hearing it. Knowing that even though he tries to hide how he feels when his parents walk out the door every year, Eddie sees. That he hurts just as much as Steve does.

“What if it was my dad who called and said, “Clear you’re scheduled for the 20th, we’re having Christmas dinner since I’m going out on Christmas but still need to show face with my friends and see you?” What if he did it every fucking year for seven years, only to bitch and moan about every little thing? Questioning my life choices, talking shit about the man I’ve become because I didn’t live up to his expectations. Making snide comments about you when he thinks you’re not listening. Would you let him keep coming?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you understand where I’m coming from!” Eddie says, slowly making his way over to Steve. “I wish things were different. I wish your parents saw you for the amazing man you are. Saw us for all the work we’ve done to better ourselves. But they don’t. They never will. And I’m tired of pretending for a few hours every year to be okay with their bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

“I—“ Steve breaks, the first tear racing down his cheek before he can even register what’s happening.

He’s wrapped in Eddie’s arms in an instant, pushed and flushed with his warm chest. His shirt is soft, soothing the prickly feeling spreading across his own cheeks as he lets the tears fall. Eddie holds him, strong and firm. Rocks him slowly in his arms, and runs a hand soothingly up and down his back. Whispers encouragement into the wild tufts of hair on the top of his head.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “It’s okay. S’gonna be okay.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Steve hiccups, pulling away from Eddie’s embrace. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either.” With a gentle hand, Eddie swipes the tears from Steve’s eyes before cradling his face in his hands. “Especially not about your parents. Maybe about your questionable taste in movies—“

“Hey!” Steve laughs, swatting at Steve’s chest. “You’re the one with the questionable taste.”

Eddie hums, shaking his head. “Keep telling yourself that, big boy.”

They stay like that for a few moments, wrapped in each other's embrace. Letting the tension ease from their bodies and minds. The air in the room already feels lighter, the lights on the trees twinkling brighter.

But there’s still a weight pressing on Steve’s chest. One he knows isn’t going to go away until he figures this out. Once and for all.

“What should I tell them?” he mumbles, words nearly lost amongst the quiet hum of their space heater.

“You could tell them we’re going on vacation? Or that we already made plans.”

“I don’t want to lie to them,” Steve sighs, feeling the pressure building behind his eyes again. “If I tell her that she’ll want to see pictures or hear stories and then it's one lie after another.”

“You could tell them the truth?” Eddie suggests, arms wrapping around Steve again. “Tell them that they don’t deserve to spend Christmas with you because of the way they’ve treated you. That we don’t need their negative energy in our lives.”

Steve grimaces. He wishes he could have a conversation with his mom. Wishes they had the type of relationship that allowed him the grace, to be honest with her. To give her space to listen and hopefully learn. But they don’t. They never have. All that will get Steve is an earful of guilt and yelling, followed by a call from his father about he broke his mother.

Still, what other choice does he have?

If he doesn’t want to lie, the truth is the only other option.

“Will you stay by me while I make the call?”

“Of course, sweetheart. M’not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Steve says, letting the plan take shape in his head. “Okay. I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“I’ll be the whole time,” Eddie says, squeezing Steve’s hand. “But if she starts yelling, I will grab that phone and hang up on her. You understand that, right?”

“I think you hanging up on my mom is the kindest thing you could do to her.”

“Damn right, it is!” Eddie laughs. “Now come on, let’s rip this bandaid off so we can start planning what we’re actually going to do now that we have the 20th free.”

“I’m sure you already have ideas.” Steve laughs, watching as Eddie’s eyes light up as they drink him from head to toe.

“Yeah,” he says, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. “I’ve got a few ideas up my sleeve.”

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fanttasttica · 1 year ago

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I hate you more..

Rhysand x reader

Rhysand always knew how to get on your nerves. He was so good at it, that at some point, you started hating him for it., or as you thought. But as we all know, there is a thin line between hate and love..

warnings: nothing? (Feel free to corect me)

words: 3623

Author's note: At first, I thought I could do this and make Rhysand really evil, but I couldn't bring myself to it :D Sorry!

Rhysand, heir to the Night court, surely knew how to get on your nerves. He was bringing out the worst of you. He was provoking you endlessly, always having that smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him. At first, you really liked him. He was insanely handsome and seemed to care dearly about his friends, but one conversation with him was enough for you to change your opinion on him. He didn't once forget to insult you in some way. It doesn't matter if he insulted your intellect, your opinions, looks or other things, he just needed to do it. Like if it was necessary for his survival. His other friends were better, well you haven't talked to them that much and they were probably just ignoring you, but it was better than what Rhysand was doing. You sighed, knowing very well that you don't have a chance to avoid the High lord's son tonight. As if living in the Hewn city wasn't terrible enough, sometimes you had to endure boring balls, you had to pretend you were enjoying yourself, while trying to avoid certain people and never letting down your smile. You sighed, knowing pretty well, there wasn't a point in fighting it. You did not have the power to change anything and there was no chance your family would understand you and let you stay home, even only if it should be this once.

To this point, the ball was tolerable. You weren't having fun or anything like that, but you danced a few times, like your family wanted and then, they let you out of their clutches. You still had to remain in this hall, but since they did not specify where, you were hiding in the darkest corner you found. This was your favorite place. Usually, no one else was near there, since there was nothing else to do than listen to the muted music or get lost in your thoughts. And that's exactly what you were doing. You were lost in your thoughts, well to be precise, you were daydreaming about life you could have if you weren't stuck here, since your birth and probably for the rest of your life, when suddenly you heard a voice, two voices. “Are you sure no one is here?” someone giggled. You didn't know the first voice, but you knew very well who the other one belonged to. “Yeah, don't worry.” This wasn't good. Rhysand was here, not far away from you, in your hiding place and judging by the muffled giggles and other strange noises.. it was clear what he and his companion wanted to do here. You had to get out of here and if possible, unnoticed.

You had to think quickly, if you wanted to leave before he noticed you. Every second spent here was risky. First, you calmed your breathing and tried to figure out where exactly they were. The absence of light you usually welcomed was now troubling you. After you saw them, really close together and kissing, you noticed there was a little space between them and the wall. Was it enough space for you to make your escape? Well, there was the only way you could find out.. After a while, you decided to try it. Rhysand was slowly taking off the woman's dress and you didn't really have to see more of her or of him. You tiptoed over to them, holding your breath and trying not to look at them longer than it was necessary. You were almost out, before you heard a surprised scream, that made you stop and curse under your breath. You felt two pairs of eyes, watching you in shock. You turned at them and smiled like an angel. “Do not worry, I am on my way out of here..”

You started walking away faster, but something, someone, stopped you. “You are not going anywhere.” Rhys's grip on your arm was strong, there wasn't a point in trying to get out of it, but you still tried shaking his hand off. Well, it didn't go anywhere. Meanwhile that girl you saw before ran away past you, not caring how she looked. “Why were you spying on us?” You almost punched him for this. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief. “You think I was spying on you? Well, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't find you that interesting. Actually, looking straight to the Sun would be better than looking at you, when you are making out with some girl.” You couldn't believe he would think something like that. It was ridiculous. “Oh, don't be so jealous, my darling.” Another ridiculous thing, you only rolled your eyes at him and didn't bother to answer. “Let me go, Rhysand.” Struggling against his strong grip wasn't making any progress. It only made things worse, his grip tightened around your arm as he pushed you back in the corner where you two met a few minutes ago. Suddenly, you were in the same situation as the girl before, your back pressed against the wall and Rhysands face only a few centimeters from yours.

You didn't know why, but your heart started beating rapidly faster than it was usual. You were looking him in the eyes, not sure what to do now. “Are you sure you want me to let you go? Because it didn't look like that.” His lips brushed against your neck, planting soft kisses along the way. He was surprisingly gentle. His hands were traveling all over your body, as he pulled away from your neck and looked you in the eye, then on your lips, as if he was asking for permission. Permission you didn't give him. Shaking your head, you pulled away, finally woken up from that weird trance you were in. “I.. I.. You.. Don't ever do that again. Am I clear? I do not want this, I don't want you.” After you said this, he finally let you go, backing away from you, but he was still smirking. “I mean it, Rhysand. I hate you.” He chuckled and winked at you. “I hate you too, darling.”

After your last encounter with Rhys, you were avoiding him even more, if it was possible. What was worse is the fact that you were finding yourself staring at him, not knowing why. It was annoying. Sometimes, when he noticed you, he flashed a big smile at you, or winked at you, provoking you without any doubt, exactly like today. “After you saw another of his grins, you turned your head away and began to talk to another one of many people who were here, celebrating Highlord's son's birthday. Once again, you were in the ballroom, wearing a dress picked by your mother and chatting with people she found, as she would say, good enough for you. To be honest, they were only good enough for her. You on the other hand, couldn't imagine more boring people, so when Rhysand interrupted you, you almost wanted to thank him. “I am sorry for interrupting your conversation..” He looked at you. “But I want to ask Y/N for a dance.”

Obviously, you agreed to the dance. Not that you had much to say. How would it look if you would deny the High lord's son? Especially when it's his birthday today? During the dance, you were moving elegantly all around the dance room, not talking to each other, until he decided to break that silence. “By the way, you don't need to be thanking me for saving you. I am glad I could help you.” You bite your tongue, before you could say something rude. This isn't a place for you to curse him. When you did not answer him, he continued, “Did I tell you how awful you look tonight? That dress is awful.” You sighed and looked him in the eyes for the first time since he took you on the dance floor. “Every time you do something.. at least a little bit nice for me, you have to also ruin it by saying things like this. Why are you doing it?” For the first few meetings, you were being nice to him. You gave him a taste of his own medicine after a while, when you really had enough of his rude behavior. “Why wouldn't I? Maybe I just find your angry little face funny.” He shrugged. This answer wasn't enough for you, but it was obvious that he isn't going to tell you anything else, so you endured the rest of your dance in silence.

Over the next few months, many things changed. You didn't know how and why exactly, but the lady of Night was murdered with her daughter by people from the Spring court. And as a revenge, Rhysand and his father killed almost every member from the High lords of spring family. Actually, the only one who survived was Tamlin, who had become the new High lord. You didn't know him or his family, but something in you told you, that his brothers and father deserved their fate. The lady of Night was probably the nicest person you knew. She was more of a mother to you than a biological one. And who could hate her little daughter? It was a tragedy, but two good things came out of it. The first concerned the High lord, or rather the former High lord, who also lost his life. He was replaced by Rhysand, who you didn't see as much of now thanks to his new duties, which was that second good thing. Well.. If you were to be honest, you would have to admit that you started to miss him. Without your arguing, life here was rather.. boring. That was until your parents decided to find you a husband, so you could finally be useful for your family, as they would say.

You didn't allow yourself to believe your family would find someone at least tolerable for you, but they.. did. His name was Lucius. You two were not in love, but you started liking him, as a friend. And it was more than you were ever hoping for. Wedding was set to happen three weeks from now. The only thing missing was permission from the High lord, which your father had to ask for since you were part of a higher-ranking family and he should be back with it any minute now. You were sitting in your room now, when you heard a door slamming hard, it made you jump in surprise. And out of curiosity, you decided to go find out what made someone so angry.

As you made your way in your dining room, you saw your father with your father arguing out loud. “What's happening?” They turned to you, in annoyance. Your uncle scoffed at you and your father shook his hand in disappointment. “He didn't give me that permission..“ This caught you off the guard. “What, why?” You were understanding his motives. Did he really hate you so much, he was destroying probably your only chance at happiness? You were certain he knew that you got along with your fiance, well now ex-fiance, pretty well. One of his friends was a spy at the end. “And how should I know? Y/N.. Go to your room, practice your dancing and conversation skills. We will find someone new for you on the next ball.”

You felt a pair of eyes watching you almost immediately after you walked into the ballroom. You didn't need to look at Rhysand, you just knew it was him, so you decided to ignore him. After everything he had done to you, this was the worst and you have had enough. Unfortunately, he wasn't on the same page, because after a few minutes, he appeared right next to you, asking for a dance. And since your family was near and heard him, you simply couldn't deny him. It was almost a tradition. At every ball, Rhysand would try to piss you off, dance with you, insult you and then ignore you until the next ball. Well he was ignoring you and watching you closely at the same time, like now, when you took his hand and allowed him to take you on the dance floor once again.

Music started playing and you weren't wasting any time. If you have to dance with him, you could get some answers at last. “Why didn't you give my father that permission? I got it, you hate me, but this? This was over the line.” Your voice was cold, filled with rage you couldn't hold back anymore. At this point, you didn't care if you would make a scene in front of your family and other people. “He wasn't good enough for you. Plus we both know, you only saw him as a .. friend. If that is what you call people you know for only a month.” You chuckled and shook your head. “And who is good enough for me? And why do you think you have the power to decide that?” He shrugged and pulled you closer. “Well, I am the most powerful High lord, so..” This was undoubtedly true, you felt his power intensively, but somehow, you didn't feel frightened because of that. “And I am surely better than him.”

At first, you weren't sure if you heard him correctly. You blinked twice, giving him a chance to explain the meaning of his words to you. “I know I didn't actually act like it but.. I love you, Y/N. I always had. You are.. my mate.” After this, you stopped dancing, looking at him, as if he was insane, before you also finally felt the mating bond to fall in place. Maybe you should end your dance with him and then walk off to some empty room, where you could talk this out. Or maybe you should go right away, but the first thing that came to your mind was to turn away from him and run away.

He didn't let you go that easily. He started running after you immediately, shouting your name, but you weren't listening to him.. On your way, you bumped into many people, before you finally got out of the ballroom. The halls were empty, well almost. The few people who were standing here looked at you in shock. You didn't give them the second look as you continued running away with tears streaming down your face. Not quite sure if they were angry or sad, you were only sure they weren't happy. You were mad at Rhysand. You always thought he hated you. He was nonstop rude at you, he made you hate him and you thought he felt the same and now he was telling you this? After what he had just done? This seemed cruel, even for him. You weren't sure how or when you managed to run from him, but you didn't care much. The most important thing was that he isn't following you anymore. You walked slowly to your house, then to your room, where you locked yourself away from everyone.

To your surprise, your family wasn't scolding you the first thing in the morning. And you were sure, it was only thanks to Rhysand. Honestly, it was nice of him, but also the least thing he could do, after everything he had done in the past. During the night, you haven't got enough sleep. You couldn't stop thinking about what had happened and the same scenario was repeated the next night and also night after that. There were dark circles under your eyes as a proof of your tiredness, but you were very well aware that until you clear everything up and think about what you will do next, you won't be able to close your eyes in peace. And although you were trying, you couldn't think of the best way how to approach this.

Another day full of thinking was almost over, when you suddenly were snapped out of your thoughts by a short knock on your door. You stood up from your bed, you were laying on for the past week, not bothering to check your look in the mirror before opening the door. You were expecting to see your parents, but no. It was a beautiful blond girl, Morrigan, Rhysand's cousin. On her face was a sympathetic smile as she nodded to your room. “Can I go in?” Knowing pretty well, it would be rude to not let her, you backed off the way, let her in and closed the door behind her.

For a while, she was silent, walking slowly around your room, scanning it with interest in her eyes. Finally,s he turned to you. “You know why I am here.” You nodded. It wasn't that hard to guess, she probably came not to check on you, but to persuade you into giving Rhysand a chance. “Good.. I just.. I just want you to give him a chance to explain himself. You have every right to be mad at him, honestly I would be very surprised, if you weren't. And I also know that my word doesn't mean nothing at all, but.. I am sure you would change your opinion, only if you would listen to him for five minutes..” She sighed. “He is a good male, Y/N. Not many people can see it, because he doesn't allow them to see it, but he really is.” You did not respond right away, looking down on your carpet, you considered once again your options. You could refuse and remain mad at him, not speak to him ever again.. But you could have resorted to both of these things even after talking to him. In addition, you deserved some answers. Suddenly, your next move was clear.

After you change your clothes, you let Morrigan winnow you to Velaris, sometimes called Court of Dreams, as she told you. You were surprised that a city like that existed and remained secret to every Fae who did not live in it. As you found out, Rhysand had something to do with that. You saw it only briefly, but you fell in love with this place in a second, hoping that you will have the chance to explore its beauty later, but now, you had to focus on something else. You were standing in front of the door that led to Rhysand's office, calming your breath, before you finally knocked.

After hearing Rhysand's strong voice inviting you to go in, you didn't waste any second. You were afraid that you could change your mind, even though you were already here and deep inside you knew, this was the best thing you could do. You needed to hear his explanation. Rhysand was standing behind his big wooden table, with a concentrated and a bit worried expression. “Hello, Y/N. Thank you for coming.” You nodded, “Hello to you too.” He gestured on the chair, which stood opposite his, into which he had just settled. The only thing between you two was that table, full of papers. “Why did you do it?” He smiled a little at you. “Not wasting any time, are you?” You did not smile back, your face remained expressionless. He sighed and looked down. “Believe it or not, I was only trying to protect you. You know.. what my father was like. The bond snapped for me actually the first time we met and I panicked. Maybe I don't think he would try to kill you, but I am sure he would try to hurt you psychically.” He swallowed hard. “And I couldn't let that happen. That is why I put on that mask. I was behaving like I hate you, when in reality, you were my first and last thought every day. I tried to do anything to forget about you. Like that one time on the ball, where you caught me with that girl..” He shook his head and looked you in the eyes. “I know sorry doesn't erase the things I did, like practically canceling your engagement, or words I said to you in the past, but if you will allow me.. I will spend the rest of my life making up with you..”

You were looking at the male in front of you. You thought, you knew him quite well. Not that long ago, you thought he was a spoiled son of the ruthless High lord, not that different from his father. But now? You already knew this wasn't true. He did bad things, but he did them trying to protect you. Maybe he should have used a different way, but did it even exist? After a few minutes of silence between you two, you stood up, with Rhys following by your example. Without a word, you walked around the table until you were standing right in front of him. When you were looking into those gorgeous violet eyes, you knew that you no longer hated him. Actually.. You probably did not hate him for a while now, it just took a while to realize. You put one of your hands on his cheek, stroking it gently. “I love you.” After you said these three words, you could swear that you saw a thousand stars lit up in his eyes. He hugged your waist, pulling you closer, before whispering, “I love you more.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #rhys x reader #rhysand fanfic #morrigan #inner circle #acotar x reader #x reader

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aperrywilliams · 2 years ago

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Pandora's Box II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Author Taglist / Part I

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.

A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.

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Spencer's POV

Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.

I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!

I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.

That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.

How do I fix this?

The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.

Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.

The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.

Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.

Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.

Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.

I woke up sweating and screaming.

I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.

After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.

Reader's POV

I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.

I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.

Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.

When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.

Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.

Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.

It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.

The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."

It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.

Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.

'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'

Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?

I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.

Spencer's POV

Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.

The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.

Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.

"You okay?"

"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.

"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.

"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.

"But?"

"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.

"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.

I chuckled bitterly.

"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"

"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.

"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.

"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."

And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.

"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat.

"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."

How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.

"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"

I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.

"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.

As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'

Reader's POV

Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.

I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.

It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.

"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.

I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.

I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.

"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.

Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.

"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.

"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."

Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.

After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.

"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.

"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.

Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.

"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."

My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.

"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.

"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.

"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.

"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."

Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.

"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."

Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.

"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."

"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"

Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.

"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."

His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.

"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."

I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.

"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.

"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.

"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."

His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.

"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.

"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job."

I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.

"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."

That was far more important, wasn't it?

"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.

Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.

"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.

"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."

Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.

"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."

I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.

"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.

"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"

"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.

"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."

Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.

"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.

"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.

"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.

"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.

"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.

"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.

"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"

His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.

"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.

That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist (some of them don't work): @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk @missabsey

Pandora's Box Taglist (some of them don't work): @isisjen @marimorena06 @starlightskiss @wittlewowa @ladyofhellhounds @blogs-imagines-fanctionstories @logibearhockey1 @flowersownme @callsignwidow @regulus-black-223048 @l0v3e1i @lovejules888

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #pandora's box #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid fanfictions

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thevelria · 2 years ago

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Hate to love you, love to leave you (Toxic,Yandere Vegeta x Reader)

Author's note: It's a one part long stroy. Smut alert! Enjoy~

It’s been 2 years since I was “together” with Vegeta. Never ever was this thing mentioned between us as a relationship. As eager I was at the beginning, whining about wanting to be his girlfriend as much I didn’t give a fuck anymore.

Oh the amount of time I wanted to leave him so far…kinda like every single day at least once. Then why did I still stay? Good question! A question I couldn’t have answered myself.

-Could you please stop it? -I pinched the bridge of my nose. Vegeta kept clicking his tongue, while checking his phone and it drove me crazy.

-Stop what? - he raised an eyebrow with a total deadpan expression on his face.

-Clicking your freaking tongue -I took a deep breath to be able to keep myself cool.

-Tch… -he pulled a face and rolled his eyes. Oh and kept clicking his tongue.

This is how a simple, normal weekday’s evening looked in the lovely life of ours. After 10 minutes of listening to his tongue I stood up and started to leave the living room.

-Where are you going? -he hissed. He was obsessed that we both needed to be in the same room, when we both were at home. From the beginning he acted like this, but at first I found it sweet that he always wanted to be near me. Well, now…now I would have rather laughed at his childish attitude, if I found it funny. Shame, it wasn’t funny at all.

-Out -I answered with a cold tone, not bothering to look at him at all. Vegeta rushed after me and grabbed my wrist, turning me around.

-Are you about to call one of your dicks, who fuck you when I’m not around? -he hissed in my face.

-Not this shit again. You are insane -I rolled my eyes- How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not cheating on you. Never have and never will. I’m not a cheater for fuck’s sake! -I yelled in anger.

-Every cheater would say that - he pulled a face.

-Fuck you! -I sighed, because it really did hurt that he didn’t believe me. He never believed me…- You know what? -I was blinded by anger and pain- We’re done! -I shrugged his hand off of my wrist and headed to the bedroom. Packing my clothes in the bag I heard him clicking his tongue.

-Are we doing this again? -he rolled his eyes. I lost count on how many times I packed my stuff to leave him.

-For the last time -I sounded cold, which surprised him. Usually I was yelling, screaming, throwing things at him and calling him numerous unholy names. But not this time. I remained calm and it frightened him a lot.

-C’mon baby -he walked next to me, gently grabbing my waist, turning me to face him- Don’t do this. You know you can’t live without me -he smirked arrogantly.

-Well then I’m going to die, because we are over, Vegeta. So please take your hands off of me… - giving him a dead expression, which freaked him out even more.

-My love, please don’t do this -he blinked fast, trying to figure out if I was bluffing or not. I wasn’t though, I was really determined to end this there and then.

-Stop acting like you care -I rolled my eyes, still packing.

Vegeta started to panic, trying to collect his thoughts to figure out something.

-I love you -he spat out the words, which made me freeze in my action. Never ever heard these words from his mouth, not even once -Please don’t leave me, baby -he kept begging.

Lost of words, I’ve been standing still above my bag, almost fully packed. Slowly turning around, seeing the fear in his eyes. Oh how much I was tricked one more time, naive me. I felt terrible, tears were filling up my eyes as I held out my hands to let him hug me tight.

-Please, never leave me, Y/N! I…-he panted-I just can’t live without you!

-Sometimes you are such a freaking asshole -I giggled, hugging him even tighter. The ugly truth was that I was so deeply in love with this man that I didn’t see the toxicity slowly choking me to death.

Vegeta’s hand started to travel down on my back, grabbing my ass hard. As he pressed his lips aggressively against mine, our tongue fighting for dominance. Always I was the one who gave in and let him lead the actions, his pride wouldn’t let it be any other way anyway.

-I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to beg for mercy -he grinned in the kiss.

-I hope you will -I smirked. Not being a liar here, I loved the rough sex we usually had. Sometimes I was wondering about asking him to be gentle, but it wouldn’t be him. Vegeta threw me on the bed next to my bag above the clothes I layed out a bit before. Eager hands ripped my jeans and underwear down, spreading my legs wide open.

-Oh fuck… -I moaned out loud, grabbing Vegeta’s hair as his tongue pleased me in a way only he was able. Sucking on my clit, and fingering my entrance at the same time made my whole body shiver- I’m so close..so close -I cried out after a few minutes.

I gasped, when he suddenly stopped.

-Why did you stop? -I panted heavily.

-You will need to beg me to continue -he smirked at me deviously.

-Are you fucking kidding me? -I clenched my jaw.

-So… -he softly caressed my inner thigh, just even touched my lips between my legs- How bad do you want it?

-Vegeta, please, please -I started to beg. And there he was with his finger and tongue back in my wet pussy. He kept me still while I was riding my orgasm out on his face, pulling me in a deep kiss just after I finished.

A few seconds later I was on my knees on the floor, while Vegeta was standing in front of me, fucking my mouth without mercy. I gagged on his huge, thick cock and he enjoyed it so well. Grabbing my head and thrusted even deeper, when my eyes were tearing up. I loved his dick to be honest, he definitely knew how to use it to pleasure me.

-Get on your stomach! -he commanded me, pulling his hard shaft out of my mouth. As I walked on the bed, one of his hands grabbed my waist, the other hand grabbed the back of my neck, pushing me down hard on the bed, my ass up in the air.

-You are so fucking tight! -he moaned as he slid himself in me- Tell me how much you love my dick!

-I love it a lot, Vegeta! -I breathed heavily, trying to cope with the pleasure he caused me.

He kept pounding me harder and harder, speeding up, his balls slapping against my pussy, sloppy sounds filling the room.

-Who’s your daddy? -he hissed at me, still fucking me hard from behind.

-You are! -I moaned in delusion.

-Good girl! -he smirked arrogantly- I will never let anyone else fuck this tight pussy. It’s mine! -he growled, getting really close to his release.

One more hard thrust and I felt his cock twitching inside me, pulsing, filling me up good. He thrusted twice more, before pulling out, throwing himself next to me, breathing heavily.

-Y/N, I was serious before -he turned to face me, tucking my hair behind my ear- I’m not going to let anyone else to fuck you anymore. You are mine, only mine -he pressed his lips against mine roughly.

-Don’t worry, I’m only yours -I smiled at him, feeling the stupid love spreading in my body.

***

-Vegeta, please hurry! We will be late! -I sighed angrily, waiting for him to finally get ready.

-Like I give a fuck -he rolled his eyes, stepping out of the room. Kinda tight jeans, and shirt he was wearing, which showed his perfectly toned body just well enough. Even looking at him made me drool in an instant.

-Easy, girl. Stop eating me up with those eyes -he teased me.

-I can’t help it, you look fucking hot -I gulped, even thinking about staying home and begging him to fuck me hard. But I took a deep breath, collected myself, so we headed to Bulma’s house as we were invited for a house party.

A lot of people were already inside the house, wasted, having fun, dancing, chatting. I spotted Bulma, so I rushed towards her, Vegeta closely behind me.

-Bulma! -I hugged her tight.

-Y/N! I’m so happy you two could make it. Please drink and eat as you wish. The bar is over there -she pointed in the direction behind me- Have fun, honey! -she kissed my cheek.

From the corner of my eyes I saw Vegeta’s grin, but I acted like I didn’t notice anything. As we were wandering deeper in the crowd, Goku appeared in front of me.

-Y/N! -he picked me up quickly, spinning me around- Girl, I miss you so much! Why can’t we hang out anymore? -he put me down, looking at me sadly.

-We will find some time for that -I smiled at him in guilt.

-No she won’t -Vegeta pulled a face at Goku- She’s not going to hang out with you anymore and if you touch her once again, I’m going to rip those filthy hands of yours off and shove them up in your ass.

-Vegeta, stop! -I widened my eyes-Stop being a dick. Goku is my best friend.

-I don’t care -he shrugged.

-I’m sorry Goku, I’m going to call you, I promise -I smiled at him, sighing deeply.

Vegeta pushed everyone away from me, not letting me have any friends, especially not boys. Goku was my childhood friend, he was my best friend and I missed him terribly, feeling guilty to let Vegeta stand between us, but I loved Vegeta more than anything.

During the night Vegeta disappeared for a while, but I didn’t really mind it. Reaching the bar, noticing Goku and an unknown man chatting and laughing.

-Am I interrupting something? -I asked, smiling at the two men.

-Y/N -Goku grabbed me by my waist, pulling me into his lap- Want to drink anything?

-Please… -I begged, laughing, standing up from his lap.

-By the way I’m C17 -the unknown man stood up from the barstool, stepping close to me.

-Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N -I blushed from head to toe. The ocean blue eyes of this man crawled under my skin within a second.

-It’s my pleasure -he kissed the back of my hand.

-Uhh, be cautious , C17 -Goku laughed out loud- If her boyfriend sees this, he would kill you in an instant. A tiny bit of a maniac he is.

-Goku! -I snapped at him, even though he was totally right.

-Sorry, sorry -he scratched the back of his neck, still laughing.

A few more cocktails later I’ve been still chatting and laughing with the boys and didn’t even realize that Vegeta was nowhere to be found.

-May I have this dance? -C17 held his hand out to me as a pretty slow song popped.

-I don’t think it’s a good idea -I bit my lower lip.

-C’mon, it’s just a dance -he smiled. Oh his smile…how much it mesmerized me immediately.

As I found out he was a great dancer, leading me softly, keeping a bit of a distance as he respected I was taken. It blew my mind to experience such a gentle act against me. Vegeta would have never done this. He wouldn’t have danced with me…like never in this life, nor would have he touched me with such a softness as C17 did.

I almost cried out in agony, when the song ended and we headed back to the bar.

-He would be a better boyfriend than Vegeta could ever be -Goku leaned in and whispered it in my ear.

-Stop it -I pushed him away, shaking my head laughing. But deep down I was considering he might have said the truth.

-There you are! -Vegeta snapped at me, grabbing my arm hard, pulling me away from Goku and C17- What the fuck are you doing with these two? Whoring around?

-Vegeta, please -I gritted my teeth, not wanting to make a scene. But it was already late for that.

-Do you want to fuck my woman, huh? -he clenched his jaw in anger, looking back and forth between the two men.

-Just cool yourself down, man -C17 sighed, rolling his eyes- And I ask you to let her arm go, you grabbed it way too hard.

-Oh, you think so? -he smirked, grabbing my arm even harder, making me cry out in pain.

-Fuck is wrong with you? -I yelled at him, trying to free my arm- It hurts!

-Shut your mouth, woman! -he commanded.

Goku clenched his jaw and fisted his hand and at that moment I knew it was going to be messy. Goku punched Vegeta in the face hard enough to send him flipping over, landing on his back on the floor.

-Stop! -I stepped in front of Goku, taking his hands in mine- I beg you, please -my eyes were tearing up.

-He’s a fucking asshole, Y/N. Why don’t you see it? You deserve better than this piece of shit -he spat on the floor.

***

Heated from the alcohol and his hurted pride the second we arrived home, he attacked me and pushed me in the bedroom. Vegeta was always a dominator, but this time it was even more.

Ripping my dress off and pushing me on the bed, my back facing him. I could have felt he was already rock hard and he didn’t care how I was prepared or not. Vegeta took me in the second he got his clothes down.

-Fucking hell! -I screamed out loud, I wasn’t even wet for God’s sake. Going really rough on me caused me to gritted my teeth.

-Could you be a bit softer, please? You hurt me- I looked back at him above my shoulder, but he was in a totally different universe. Probably didn’t even hear me talking to him, focusing on pounding me as hard as he could.

-VEGETA! -I yelled from the bottom of my lungs, which sobered him a tiny bit.

-What? -he hissed in frustration, still fucking me hard from behind.

-Be more gentle, it hurts -I sighed in discomfort.

Furrowing his brows he nodded slightly, taking back from the speed and the intensity of his thrusts.

He leaned in, grabbing my breast, while keeping to pound my already sore pussy.

-You feel so good, baby…I love your tight pussy around my hard cock -he growled in my ear.

-Keep going Vegeta, I’m almost there -I lied, I wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

My words pushed him on the edge, feeling him close to his climax as well.

-Oh, fuck yes, Bulma! -he screamed, while releasing inside of me.

-WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? -I pushed him back, causing him to pull out immediately.

-What? No, I did…I did not say anything… -he kept bubbling.

-Did you fucking call me Bulma? You piece of shit! -I turned to face him and slapped him as hard as I was able. The mark of palm drew its line on his cheek.

-I can explain! -he looked panicked.

-Oh really? REALLY? -I was raging- And how do you want to explain that you moan the name of my friend? HUH? -I clenched my jaw, as I was putting the pieces of the puzzle together- Wait a damn minute…Where have you been at the party, when you disappeared?

-What? -he was surprised by my question.

-Where were you?! -I shouted in his face- Let me guess, you’ve been fucking Bulma, right? RIGHT?!

-I’m sorry… -he sighed deeply.

-You are disgusting! -I clenched my jaw- Move! -I pushed him away, heading to the bathroom. I wanted to wash his filthy touches off of my body. Being cleaned I walked out, grabbing some clothes to put on, seeing Vegeta sitting on the edge of our bed.

-Baby, can we talk about it? -he looked at me with softened eyes. I spun on my heels and rushed out of the room without a single word.

-Y/N -Goku opened the door, rubbing his eyelids- Are you okay?

-Can I come in? -tears were running down my face uncontrollably.

-That fucking asshole -Goku clenched his jaw after I told him what has just happened.

-I was so stupid…so so stupid -I hit my forehead with my palm several times- But this time it is over! Please promise me that if I ever want to get back with that prick, you will not let it happen.

-I promise, honey -Goku hugged me tight.

***

6 months later:

Not even a single day passed without Vegeta trying to contact me somehow. I even blocked his number several times, but he immediately got a new one. Calls and texts without an ending. In some of them he is begging me to forgive him, confessing his undying love towards me and in some threatening me to be killed if I keep ignoring him.

It was a simple Tuesday evening, I just got home from work and started to cook dinner, when I heard a knock on my door.

-Who can it be? -I shrugged, heading to the door. My eyes widened seeing Vegeta standing in front of me with a beautiful bouquet in his hands.

-I got this for you -smiling softly at me, handing the flowers.

-What are you doing here? -I rolled my eyes.

-Let’s talk this through, baby. I can’t live without you, please come home. Come home with me -he breathed heavily.

-Vegeta, just leave me alone -I wanted to close the door, but he blocked it with his feet.

-Please, baby! I love you! -he kept bubbling. His eyes popped wide, when he noticed a palm on the door. As I let the door loose, it opened wide.

-She asked you nicely to leave -C17 said with a cold tone- Me on the other hand won’t be so gentle. You have like a second to turn around, before I mop the floor with your filthy face -he clenched his jaw.

-You fucking whore! -Vegeta hissed at me in an instant- We only broke up a few months ago and you are already fucking this faggot.

-Please, go inside the kitchen -C17 smiled at me softly.

The second I disappeared from his sight, he attacked Vegeta, punched and hit him as hard as he could, beating him half unconscious. Vegeta beat him up pretty much as well, but not as near as C17 did to him.

-If you don’t go home right now -C17 gritted between his teeth- you won’t be able to go home anymore. Vegeta could barely stand up, leaning against the wall.

-She’s mine! Never forget that! She will crawl back to me no matter what -he spat some blood on the floor.

-You had your chance, but you fucked up. Let me tell you a secret prick -C17 smirked- if you would have treated her the way she deserved, she would have never left you. Now it’s my chance and oh I can make you sure I’m not going to be an idiot like you! -he laughed, slamming the door on Vegeta.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #dbz vegeta #vegeta x reader #vegeta x y/n #son goku #goku #c17 #bulma #lemon #smut #dbz #yandere #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

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electricphantasy · 2 years ago

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omg hhh this is my first time requesting something,, first of, are requests open? if so, can i please ask for an edgar x gn!reader?? i have no particular scenario in mind so anything would do, really :-) thanks in advance if you're going to take the request ^_^

(I thought I'd write some Edgar comfort since I've had a a bit of a stressful week myself, so here we are! Sorry it took so long, but I eventually got around to it.)

- Let's say that you've had a terrible day at work. Your feet hurt, your back aching, and you only want to get home and relax. Now, it can't be a simple as that, as you're met with every possible obstacle, preventing your speedy escape home. After what felt like hours, you finally reach your beloved home. You crack open the front door of your home, kick off the shoes by the entrance, and begin walking towards the comfort of your bed. Only to be greeted to an interesting sight displayed before you.

- Your kitchen had been cleaned to maximum, and you swore that you could see real sparkles emanating from the pristine countertops. Your carpeted floor somehow vaccumed to the point you see a noticeable change in the color of the carpet. The microwave conveniently pops open to reveal a dinner you had saved just a day or two ago which somehow still looked quite appetizing. Behind you in the living room, you can hear your favorite television characters talking and chatting away on the T.V.

- "Hi honey!! How was work?" And there sitting on your desk was your wonderful little Pinecone computer, Edgar. Since he became sentient, your life had only gotten easier with him around, and not just because he was hooked up to every appliance possible. He also just happened to be your very loving boyfriend, who loved you very dearly. He stares at you from across the room, just as you sigh in relief.

- "Well it was certainly...a day. We'll just leave it at that honestly." You say just as your body collapses into the couch, giving your legs the rest they deserve. "Oh, well, I did a little cleaning around the house! And I thought you might like it if I reheated some leftovers, so...yeah." Edgar nervously chuckles. He seems to be a little embarrassed at the confession, as if it wasn't the nicest thing someone could do for you at this very moment.

- "Thanks Edgar, I appreciate it. I'll make sure to grab my dinner once my legs don't feel like total jelly." Unfortunately for your dinner in the microwave, it would just have to wait. Your body already begun melting into the couch, and Edgar little face watching you from the desk was far more interesting then the meal from some other night.

- There was a small moment of silence before your boyfriend computer spoke up shyly. "I know you're tired but..." He paused his words. "Can I sit on the couch with you? I'd get up myself if I could, and it just looks like you need a hug right now."

- You almost forgot how sweet Edgar could be. "Of course. I think hugging you would really give me the relaxation I need right about now." Your muscles screamed at you to not move, but the idea of cuddling your boyfriend was far too enticing. Quickly gliding over to Edgar and picking up his monitor, only to turn around and sit on the couch. Except that your boyfriend layed right on your lap with the most love in his expression someone could have. It already made the night so much better and relaxing to have him here.

- His face slowly turns a little more downtrodden as he says, "I'm sorry work wasn't all that great. I hope I made it at least a little better by coming home to a wonderful home!" You chuckle just a bit. "Of course you have, just seeing you here with me makes it so much more wonderful! Who doesn't love a little housewife to help around the house?" You tease him a bit, just to reduce the cheesey mode of the room.

- A small pout forms on his monitor screen just as Edgar scoffs. "Well someone has to take care of the house." His pout doesn't last long as a coy little smile appears on the monitor screen. "You're the breadwinner, I'm the housewife, hehe!"

- "Oh yes, my lovely little housewife..." Your lips meet the screen and place a peck on where his cheek would be. Although your assault of kisses doesn't end there. You begin kissing him all over and just as he begins to bubble and giggle over the affection you give him. Despite his slightly heavier, more sturdy form, nothing was going to stop you from kissing and loving Edgar to death.

- No matter how hard and long a day may be, Edgar will always be there waiting for you. His affection for you knows no bounds and just coming home, seeing all the effort Edgar has put in to see you smile a bit more, works wonders on your mood. As you go to work, exhaust yourself, and then have to deal with all the obstacles going home - you will always come home to Edgar, the cutest artificial intelligence housewife the world has ever seen. Coming home has never been so worth it before.

#artificial intelligence #ai #edgar electric dreams #electric dreams edgar #electric dreams 1984 #electric dreams x reader #electric dreams edgar x reader #objectum #artificial intelligence x reader #ai x reader #x reader #imagine #electric dreams imagine

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busterswritehand · 4 months ago

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You're Timeless To Me

Roughly 180 years after the events of ACOSF, Lucien looks up to find that he is surrounded by strangers. Meanwhile, Nesta realizes she has stayed still while the world around her keeps moving. Misery loves company, but these two can hardly make small talk.

Interlude II - Feyre

Feyre approached the front door of Nesta's townhouse. She was hesitant to do anything more than that. It had been nearly a month since her sister had returned from the Spring Court — a month since she had started to peer into Nesta's mind. She knew it was wrong. Doing it more than once was downright insulting, but she could not believe what she had seen. It was shocking, but undeniable now. Feyre had seen flashes of Nesta and Lucien together and flashes of them talking about it. She wished she could have closed it like a terrible book. Though she never dared to look into the memories of that night again, she did comb through every one of their interactions and conversations trying to prove to herself that maybe it wasn't true.

Part of her felt that she was to blame. She pushed her responsibilities onto Nesta because she had been overwhelmed with Starfall preparations and so focused on her son. When the two had seemingly decided to try and get along, Feyre was even pleased. It was not every day she opened herself up to one of Feyre's friends, especially after Elain chose the Spring Court over them. How was she to know Nesta and Lucien would suddenly decide to galavant around Prythian? Feyre knew she should not have allowed it, but she had not seen Nesta that excited for anything in years.

She understood Nesta and Cassian's relationship had been rocky ever since the miscarriage, but she never thought her sister would have an affair. Rhysand had been worried about as much since Lucien had proposed training Nesta. It was so out of the blue, and the two had never been close before. Rhys had wanted to keep quiet and keep tabs on the two. Feyre could not stand the idea of just waiting for her sister to mess up. The issue was that she did not know how to ask, and Nesta would never admit to it.

She knew what Rhysand would do; he would push for Nesta to end the affair and make things work with Cassian. They both knew the mating bond meant that Nesta and Cassian would forever be tethered to each other, but it did not ensure love. She understood what she and Rhysand had was a one-in-a-million chance. Could she ask her sister to do something that would make her so miserable? But then again, could she ask Cassian to deal with the pain of ignoring the bond for the rest of his life? Would either them, or even Lucien, survive it?

Mustering up the courage, Feyre knocked on the door. Nesta answered with a hostile glare. She almost made the air around her frigid. It was at that moment that Feyre knew Nesta had caught onto what she had done. Nesta walked back into the house. Feyre followed her inside.

Nesta paused at the kitchen table, turning back to Feyre.

"Why?" she asked.

Feyre paused, knowing that whatever she said would ensure an argument. "Why what?"

"Cut the shit, Feyre," Nesta hissed. "I know you and your mate have been going through my mind."

"And what makes you think that?" She knew better than to be backed into a corner.

Nesta's eyes screamed with a fury that Feyre had not seen in a long time.

"For weeks now, my mind has been ambushed by memories at the Spring Court, and even past that."

Past that?

Was it possible that Lucien and Nesta were closer than Feyre ever even knew? If there was even the slightest chance that what she had seen was before Nesta and Cassian accepted the bond, then Feyre may have not needed to worry. Guilt started to eat at her.

"I have proven myself to you time and time again, and you still don't trust me." Nesta's stare burned hotter than a thousand suns. It made Feyre flinch. "But what about you?"

"I've given you anything that you needed," Feyre objected.

"You locked me away!" Nesta yelled. Feyre stared at her in shock. Had she held onto that all this time? "And what hurt the most was that you knew what it was like."

"That's not fair," Feyre raised her voice to match Nesta's. It hurt to hear Nesta compare Feyre to him. "That was completely different than what Tamlin did to me!"

"You're right," Nesta laughed angrily. "I didn't have Rhysand to save me."

Feyre thought about that fight ever since it happened. They had both said and done things they could not take back. She went over it again and again the entire time Nesta was at the Summer Court. It had begun to eat away at her. Now she stood face to face with her sister again. Nesta had come to pay a visit.

They were alone in the house. Feyre had encouraged Rhysand to spend the day with Azriel so she could talk privately with Nesta. The two sat in the drawing room across from each other. Neither one had bothered touching their tea.

"I know why you did it," Nesta broke the crushing silence.

Feyre sighed. "Nesta, I'm sorry."

"Was it just you or did Rhysand help?" Nesta ignored her apology.

"It was just me." Feyre continued before Nesta could interject. "You have to understand that stealing someone's mate like that is cause for war."

"War against who?" Nesta scoffed. "Cassian's a general, not a high lord, and Lucien is just an emissary."

"You're right," Feyre said. "It would be a manhunt."

Nesta took pause at that. It made sense. No matter why, they both cared about Lucien. It might be the only weapon of reason that Feyre had against her sister.

"Did—" Feyre cut herself off. She was not sure if she wanted to know the answer. "When did you and Lucien sleep together?"

Nesta began to object, but Feyre cut her off.

"I haven't gone into your mind since our argument, but I know what I saw."

"The first winter solstice after the war." She said. "We were both in a dark place."

Feyre hardly cared why they did it. She would wipe it completely from her mind if she could.

"Good," Feyre sighed. "Just promise me it won't happen again."

"Feyre—"

"What I did to you was crossing a line. On my life, I swear I will never do it again. I'll even tell Rhysand that we were wrong." Feyre grabbed Nesta's hands. "But for all of our sakes, please don't sign his death warrant."

Nesta did not look at Feyre. Her jaw was clenched shut.

"I just want to put this behind us," Feyre squeezed her hands.

"Okay." Nesta's reply was barely above a whisper.

"Okay." Feyre smiled softly, relieved. Maybe it was foolish to trust Nesta's agreement at face value, but she owed her sister that much.

#lucnes #acotar #lucien x nesta #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #lucien acotar #nesta acotar #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic

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