#something about it made me shatter into a million tiny pieces.

[maraschinotopped]

undertale yellow. clutches head in anguish.

[mooningningg]

"You're insufferable." part i, jjk.

-in which you got in a heated argument with jjk men.

part ii.

toji, satoru, and nanami, (f).

warnings, genre. swearing! not proofread! | angst to fluff! |

notes i. this was requested from like a year ago so... yeah.

Toji. the scarred man was flaring up your temper for sure, you sat at the your side of the passanger seat. drowning in your own sea of thoughts whilst you looked outside the window of the moving car. tiny drops of water was plastered right on the car window. the sound of pitter-patter by the rain can be heard but slightly muffled.

the car however was silent, toji, your boyfriend was driving with a deadly grip on the steering wheel. you both were driving home after a disasterous date. it was going on fine at the beginning but all of a sudden, your meticulous boyfriend and you were suddenly fighting with him over something you didn't seem to think about now. you were just fuming in your seat because he had raised his voice at you in front of many people, "are you going to keep up this being a bitch act of yours?" he bites, you can feel the venom seeping through his voice.

you stayed silent, trying to send him the hint that you weren't going to talk to him any sooner. he hisses beside you before slamming his hand on the steering wheel, making you look at him with a flinch, "damn it!" "what the hell is wrong with you, toji!" "now you decide to talk to me."

"if you were just being so fucking easy back there, then maybe i wouldn't have yelled." the man beside you fills you in, trying to point out your mistakes from the fight.

"oh so now it's my fault that you have anger issues that you can not somehow get a hold of? you're a fucking assassin, toji. yet you act like you can't color inside the lines with a gun to your fucking head."

"what the fuck did you just say?" his voice grumbles, and just in time for a thunder to roar in the sky, light flashes in a second before the rain came down heavier. toji took a glance at you, his eyes were filled with anger and you can tell, you calmed yourself down. looking out from the window again you wrapped your own arms around your body to provide warmness, you couldn't handle it anymore. there was never a day where you don't find yourself arguing with the scarred man over and over again, you were tired, to an extent.

"you're a fucking jerk." you mumble, resting your head on the window as you feel your tears starting to build up. it hurts you, him being too comfortable yelling at you in front of a crowd, it shatters your heart into millions of pieces. you knew you were hard to love but... toji made you feel like there wasn't hope at all.

"I hate you." it came out like a whisper, your voice vulnerable and weak. toji's grip loosened, his eyes softening in an instant with his face muscle finally relaxing, but not in a good way. damn did those three words, eight letters, stab his heart a million times repeatingly, over and over again. he was hurting you, and now he realizes it, he has gone too far now, "y/n."his voice was gentle now, no sign of anger or irritation.

you didn't answer, you felt so weak now. you felt like you were going to burst into tears within a second, " 'm sorry." your boyfriend says, your heart warms up in an instant, it was unfair, he had this effect on you and you just can't ignore it, "whatever." you replied with a sob at the end of your sentence, you had been crying again... because of him.

toji didn't like seeing you like this so he swore in him, he would kill anyone that made you cry, and if he did make you holler again, he'll end his self instead.

Satoru. "This is crazy." you say in frustration, looking at your lover as if he has grown tw heads to make your eyes shine with horrid, "oh this is crazy? you're

crazy." the silver haired exclaims with his tone sharp and absolute, you were taken a back by his response, "oh wow, don't try to point this on me when you're the one who flirted with a girl." "it's like I can't even do anything in this relationship anymore, you have this fucking vision in your head that im so fucking wrong all the time."

"you're just making up excuses, satoru. it won't cover up the fact that you flirted with the girl." you pointed at him, your eyes glared at him with your voice slightly raising. smoke was basically coming out of satoru's ear, he was fuming, "you're insecure, that's what you are." "what did you just say?" "you make a big fuss whenever i talk to another girl, you're afraid ill le...

there was the sound of your palm hitting his right cheek, it echos through out the room with your eyes tearing up. who am i kidding, it already rolled down your cheeks, your eyes held betrayal. satoru, never in your life did he point out your insecurities in an argument.

"what happened to you. if that's what you think then I'm afraid we're better off by ourselves." you say calmly, your tears still can't help themselves from falling, "y/n." "no, you don't say those hurtful things and expect me to be okay."

"im sorry, i know i crossed the line." the silver haired exclaims with a saddened voice, the slap was like a slap from reality. truly the reason why he realized his mistake. "i would never do that to you." your voice cracked, you couldn't anymore, the burden rose up to your throat and it made hard for you to say something without finding it hard. you were crying now.

backing away from your boyfriend your back hits the wall and you slide down to the floor whilst trying to calm yourself down. and just like that you feel your boyfriends familiar scent crouch down to your level, grabbing your hands gently to replace his slender hands to wipe away your tears. "im sorry baby, im so... fuck, i hate seeing you like this."

Nanami. "im just trying to calmly apologize to you, i dont want to fight anymore." the blonde says, he brings his hand up to his mouth in a frustrated manner, you stood there, your arms crossed in front of your chest with your eyebrows furrowed. your face was bear but the outfit you were supposed to wear to your date with him was still on your body, "how is that going to help me, is it going to bring back the two hours i waited for you!" you exclaim, you were frustrated, the man forgot your date because he went to a party at work. and he didn't even tell you he was going, so it caused a misunderstanding, and you waited fir him like a fool.

"did you get hurt? i said i was sorry didn't i? can i go to bed now." he says in almost a monotone voice, you were offended by the way he reacted. it was almost like he didn't even care about your feelings. your eyes by now had widened, "so you're invalidating my feelings now? so what you said sorry?" "god your voice it's so..." "its so what." "...." "answer me!"

"fucking annoying! that's what it is, you yell, you yap do you ever get tired?" nanami finally loses his composure and his words were like daggers stabbing your heart. and if you listened closely, you can hear your heart breaking into pieces, and shattering beneath you. "you... you're the least man i have ever thought to say those words to me."

"wait." but it was too late, you had slammed the door in your shared room, nanami was left inside the cold atmosphere of the living room. he drops his self to the couch, placing his elbow on both his knees as he runs his finger through his blonde locks in frustration, he fucked up.

he needed to calm his self down before comforting you, in case he hurts you again.

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long” -> chapter two

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

book tittle: "right where you left me"

author: y/n y/ln.

sinopsis: Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? While time moved on for everyone else, she stayed trapped in a single moment, lost in a fantasy of what could have been. She’s still 23, clinging to the life she thought she’d have, the one where everything was “just right.”

This is the story of a woman living in delusion, unable to let go of the exact moment her world fell apart. Breakups happen every day, but for her, it was more than that. Sitting cross-legged at a restaurant table, under the dim light, across from him, everything felt perfect—until he said, “I met someone else.” The shatter of glass on the white tablecloth marked the death of their love, but not the end of her story.

While everyone else moved on, she stayed behind. In that restaurant, in that moment, with those words echoing in her mind, her heart suspended in a “forever” that never came.

A poignant romance about heartbreak, grief, and the lives we leave behind when we can’t move forward. If you ever wonder if you got it all wrong, remember:

“I’m right where you left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.”

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

word count: +5k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ Ten years ago 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were wearing your favorite flower dress Charles gifted you for your year anniversary last year. He always said you looked the prettiest on it. So you decided to wear it for this date. Charles told you he needed to tell you something and you prepared mentally for an engagement ring or something. Or like he would propose to you to live together. You couldn't think of anything else. You were happy.

He held your hand while the waiter guided you both to your reserved table next to the window. It was your favorite. It wasn't the first time you came, it was your go to restaurant. You even had your first date here. 

The restaurant was inspired to be like a flower shop mixed with a coffee shop. It developed to be a fancy restaurant in monte carlo. Your apartment was two blocks away so you were a regular client alongside charles. 

You were so proud of him and every single accomplishment in his last year. He was finally becoming an F1 driver. Your heart is exploding with happiness for him. You admired how determined he always was about his dreams. 

You sat on the table in front of each other. The waiter made sure you were comfy and left the menu for you to check. You grabbed it starting to read it, not noticing charles behaviour wasn't normal. His body language was unusual. He seemed uncomfortable, stressed. He cleared his throat making you look at him and have your attention. You left the menu over the table to give him your 100% of attention.it was summer so you had your hair up in a pin and charles was wearing a plain white t shirt that always looked so precious on him. 

Your eyes had question marks all over them expecting to hear what he wanted to say. There was a soft smile on yours but Charles wasn't smiling, on the contrary, he was looking down at the white tablecloth. You frowned when he took so much time to say anything. He noticed so he looked at you.

“I met someone else” he said and you felt like cold ice water was sprayed straight to you. His hands sweaty showed anxiety creeping and your face went white. You just couldn't move for a few seconds.

“W-what?” That was the only thing you could say at the moment. It was like your brain went dead in the instant it heard him saying those words. I met someone else. Four words. It took only four words to break your whole reality in a million pieces so tiny you thought it was impossible you could live properly anymore. Your mouth went dry. His eyes were cloaked on you expecting something else out of you. But how could he? He saw how you broke down there and then in front of his eyes, how confusion and heartache took over you with just four words. 

Those damn four words you won't ever forget. They will haunt you for the rest of your life. You just knew. 

There were a few minutes of silence. Really painful silence. You didn't know what to do. You didn't even know if you wanted to know more about it or just run away from here. You looked down at your dress. Tears creeping to stream down your face.charles out of desperation and discomfort talked again.

“I met someone else. I don't love you anymore, and before doing something stupid, I just wanted to tell you first” his words coming out of his mouth at the same time the waiter was laying your white wine glasses on the table. When he bheard what Charles said, he tripped and smashed the glass on the floor next to your table. You exalted. Charles got really nervous about it for some reason. You looked at him. The mess helped you to snap out of your bubble you were drowning alive.

“What happens to everything we build together, then?” he didn't have an answer for your question. Your tears started streaming down your face alongside your not waterproof mascara. The waiter apologised when he ended up cleaning, uncomfortable hearing two strangers break up in front of him. Charles licked his lips nervously and shook his head lost in what to answer. 

“Guess, it doesn't matter now” his words cut through your skin like daggers. 

You were waiting for him to propose something beautiful together. You believed you were the love of his life. He told you that everyday. Then one day to another, he found someone better. 

“Is it because I'm not pretty enough for your new status life?” you needed to find a reason even if it was the stupidest one. You just couldn't live without one for this terrible outcome of your life. It was the end. 

It was the fucking end.

He denied with his head not looking at you. He couldn't. And he also couldn't believe he fell in love with someone else while you were there the whole time. He knew this was the right thing to do for both of you. But he didn't even understand what happened. Why did he stop loving you? He had no clue. The only thing he knew is that he loved alexandra, not you. Alexandra made him feel something he had never felt for you as much as it hurt him to admit it. Because he cared about it, he cared a lot.  Even though it seemed like he didn't because he didn't love you like that anymore. 

“I’m sorry, y/n” that was all he had left to say. He didn't want to make you confused. He didn't want to lie to you. You didn't deserve that. Honesty was the least he could offer you after all of these years together. 

You couldn't understand properly what he was saying at this point. You didn't understand why he would invite you for a date when he wanted to break up. Why he didn't say anything yesterday or the day before, or the other. Just, why? What did you do wrong? Wasn't your love enough? You gave him your all. Are you a problem? Probably. So beautiful to think someone was leaning on their knees to ask you something beautiful then hear “you would’ve been such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head”. He found someone better than you. More beautiful. Even more intelligent and interesting for sure. 

You gasped at his words. Your chest aches and your hands are shaky. He felt terrible seeing you like that but he had to be strong and do the right thing. 

“It’s better i go, goodbye y/n” he didn't know what to say nor he wanted to stay any longer. It was all too much for him. 

You watched him leave the restaurant. He was leaving with everything you once were and now you're nothing at all. You watched everyone looking at you, there, left alone and a mess. Unloved and unimportant. You felt they stared at you forever, because it felt like it. 

What were just a few minutes for the rest of humanity, it felt like centuries for you. You were stuck there on a loop hearing his words and watching him leave, again and again, and again for eternity. 

You froze there, lost and empty.

Everyone moved on but you didn't. 

How could you?

⋆˚࿔ Ten years later 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were at your office in your beach house in monte carlo. You were writing your second book. And yeah, so much happened since you last seen charles.

Of course, the aftermath of it all was terrible on your side. You fell into a depression you didn't know it could be real to experience. The emptiness you felt was immense. Also, your self esteem was destroyed and that was the hardest part to build back up again. You went to therapy two times a week. There were so many things you didn't understand. It was really hard for you to cope with the pain by yourself. Your best friend, agostina, moved in with you. She travelled from New York and left her life behind so she could be there for you. She was an Italian teacher so she could get a job pretty fast and that comforted you. You felt guilty and ashamed of your situation. You just felt like a fucking problem to everyone.  

You had started journaling by the time your friend pointed out something that would change your life forever. 

Monaco’s weather was the prettiest. Autumn it’s really beautiful up here. You were seated on your lounge chair by the pool. Your friend sat next to you leaving two cups of tea on the tiny table between you two. The morning was your favorite time of the day, because you had the habit of writing down everything you felt about anything and everything. Your friend knew it so she just accompanied you through it. She knew it was part of the process and she just wanted to be there for you, always. As she always did since you were kids back in london. 

The words stormed out of you straight to the paper like lighting. You were writing fast every single word you heard. And after a few moments when you finally stopped writing, you would read your words out loud to process them. 

“Okay, hear me out. Are you ready” you asked your friend so she could join you in the process and debate about your thoughts and feelings. That always helped you out so much. She nodded, taking a sip from his tea cup.

“Alright” you adjusted yourself comfier on the chair moving to face her and grabbed your journal better. “Maybe we got lost in translation or maybe I asked for too much. Or maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up. Running scared, I was there. I remember it all too well. And you call me up just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest. And now I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here. Time won't fly. It's like im paralyzed by it. I’d like to be my old self, but I'm still trying to find it after `plaid shirt days and nights where you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. Because there we are again when I loved you so, back before we lost the one real thing you’ve ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well” your voice was soft and low. When you finished your friend stayed silent analyzing your words.

“Have you ever considered becoming a writer? Because that, what you wrote, was beautiful y/N” she told you. Her words sinked in you. Maybe you should. You write a lot, so you can try and if you fail you stick to your translator job as you do now. Something fliked inside you. What could go wrong?

And to be fair, the rest is history. You started your journey as a writer and it was not easy  but all of the heartache you carried helped to write the story of your life. Not like, actually, but it did indeed change your life forever. 

Your first book was called “all too well” and under any expectation, it became a best seller worldwide. You were a best seller author now and a pretty famous one. Your novel broke selling records. It made you tour the world, getting to know so many people and signing so many copies of it. And then, you started being so happy. Your suffering became the art so many people appreciated. Unlike Charles, you were important to them, and they cared about your words, your feelings, and your vision. You now have helped someone with your book. As it helped you get through the life you thought you would have with him.

He got married, you saw him on the news one morning while baking cinnamon rolls for your nephews that came to visit. He was a 3 time world champion in formula one and one of the most adored drivers. An icon in fashion and now a businessman. To be fair, it was all you would have dreamed for him. So at some point you were happy for him. At least he achieved everything he dreamed of. And he had a beautiful wife, she was an artist. Sometimes you pass through her gallery to see what new piece she created. She didn't know you, of course. No one knew about you except for Charles' family. His brothers knew. Hisparents knew you.but you were a buried secret to that family. You heard from a friend of a friend it was a pretty big shock when charles told them he was already someone else the next they he dumped you. I mean, you were shocked as well. You thought it wasn't possible for someone to move on that quick. But you couldn't judge him. You were so young. He didn't know better. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you showed up to a race one day. Would he pretend he doesn't know who you are? Would he pretend you never existed? One part of you, hoped he would fall in love with you again. Just Like the first time. And that he regretted leaving you behind. But reality was way  more complicated. Though, you were offered by Mercedes and McLaren to join a few races since you became a recognized figure to the world. You also wondered if Charles knew about it. If he saw you in the news as you did. If he read your book. If he felt the way you felt. If he believed you described him right or wrong. If he missed you sometimes. If he dreamed of you. If he was waiting to find you again and do it all over again. But just the right way this time. Forever.

⋆˚࿔ present day 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

Liked by agostinabff, arthurleclerc, alexandramsaintlux and others

yourusername: happy 5 year anniversary of your fav book!! It’s “all too well” birthday (and season!) and to celebrate I am so thrilled and happy to announce all too well it’s actually a MOVIE ON THE MAKING!!! kept this secret for way too long, but now you know and I can’t believe it’s actually reality! Special thanks to my bestie who from day one told me to become a writer and look where we are now. Thank you all so much for reading 💌 don’t forget to bake cinnamon rolls and wear your red scarfs and lipstick! 🍂🧣🤎

tagged: universalpictures, alltoowellthenovel, alltoowellthemovie

View more comments

user345: OMG FINALLY FINALLY 😭

user89: I don’t know how to feel about I just hope it’s good please

agostinabff: always with you beautiful and talented soul. We are so proud of you, me and Benjamin, Renato and Dante love you 🤎 ready with our red scarfs come pick us up!

↳ yourusername: I love you my family 🥹 omw 🤎

user234: I really want to know who broke her heart this deep to write a masterpiece like all too well is

↳ user234: GIRL exactly like I ache for her

↳ user79: I would be dead if I had to live something like that

user123: just between us, did the love affair maim you too? 😭😭😭😭

↳ user21: you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath 😭

universalpictures: we remember it all too well 🤎❤️

↳ user34: thank you for this it’s amazingggg

user411: can’t wait

arthurleclerc: congrats y/n! waiting for it such a great book!

↳ user673: what are you doing here darling????

↳ user1: didn’t know racing drivers read romantic books

↳ user76: now you became more perfect than perfect 😍

↳ user7923: suss

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“La Dernière Fleur” looked so much different from where you and Charles broke up.  It was now a cafeteria. And a really cute one. You loved coming here to write your following book. Up to now, you were gonna tell the story you had with Charles, everything. You needed to finally let go of him. Let go of the past. And finally, move on. 

You sat at your regular table for the last three months. Your computer and notebook on the table. You were surrounded by papers with so many notes on them and coffee cups. Your hair up in a pin and your reading glasses on. Your red hair looked shiny thanks to the sun reflecting on it coming though the window. Everybody knew you there and felt honoured that you chose that place to write your next best seller. They always gifted you their exquisite lemon cinnamon roll. It was your favorite. They made you feel really special and you were really grateful about it. 

Your next novel will be called “right where you left me” and for you it was a great idea to go back to the place where it all started.

The first day you came you almost threw up out of anxiety. It was hard to remember it all. But the second day around you could actually think of the storyline and write down some notes. And that’s how it all started three months ago.

In other news, your book was so successful, it was going to become a movie in two years. How crazy is that? You accomplished so much in all these years. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.

It was autumn, your favorite season of the year. Wearing sweaters and scarfs and red lipstick. Everything was perfect. It made life feel so much more romantic. You loved taking your nephews to the beach and running in circles, then making a war of the leaves at the park. Agostina had 3 beautiful boys with her husband Andrew. She never doubted you’d be the best aunt in the world for her children so she moved her whole family to Monaco and life was beautiful. 

Yes, it's surprising you never saw Charles again but you lived on the opposite corner of monaco. And you both travelled so much during the year. And also, you didn't like going out so much so no, you didn't go to parties where you could find him. 

Now 10 years later, you’re 32 and realized you missed your whole life waiting for him. So this book was a goodbye to him. And a hello to your new life. You wanted to find someone, trust in them, and have a family. That was always your plan. But it got twisted along the way. But it is what it is, life’s sometimes a bitch and destiny likes to play its part in a cruel way. but maybe it was for the better. Maybe someone amazing was about to come your way. 

You took a sip from the coffee cup, malena, the waitress left for you a few moments away. You couldn't actually swallow the drink, because through the door you saw a person coming in who you would have never expected to see again unless it was on tv. 

You almost choked when a 35 year old charles, your charles (well, not anymore for sure); got into the coffee shop with a few friends laughing out loud. Hearing his laughter sent shivers down your spine. 

You felt frozen in that moment, the same way you felt the day he left you behind, alone.

You swallowed the drink in your mouth the best way you could. And left the cup on the table carefully. You looked down at your notes realizing you have been writing his name on the edge of the page. Like doodling. You felt stupid and just broke the paper gently so you wouldn't disturb anyone or catch someone’s attention you for sure didn't want right now. Your heart was racing and your hands were sweating. You started to feel hot due to anxiety of the not expected encounter with him here. And you guessed you felt like this, also because you knew he was single again and your delusion could make you believe that maybe you have another chance with him. You really didn't want to feed it. You need to move on as soon as possible. You could keep going in circles in this rabbit hole you're trapped in for so many years now.  

When you looked back up again you felt you almost faint.  There he was, charles fucking leclerc smiling at you shily while his friends were talking. You recognized a few of them. One was Carlos for sure. They all looked so different. Charles looked different but as pretty as he’s always been. His smile made you panic to say the least. You couldn't smile at him back. All he received was your eyes looking away to a moment after start grabbing your things to get the fuck out that coffee cursed shop. And that’s what you did.  Once you collected all of your things and left money to pay for everything, you sprinted out of that shop to your car. You never left a place so quickly. Anybody watching would think you were escaping from something or someone. and in fact, you were. you were scapingfrom the guy who broke you in so many ways.

Charles came back from a paddle match with his friends. They decided to have some food in the nearest place from the court there was. That was the place where he ruined his life. Or that was the way he liked to call it. Because he dumped the best girl he ever met. But he didn't know better back then. He was a dickhead for sure. And because he knew she deserves someone that knew her value not like him, he really tried to make it work with Alex all of those years. But he couldn't anymore because it showed. It was obvious even if he pretended that he really loved her the way he loved his past girlfriend. He felt stupid above anything to be honest.

The guys chose the place and he had to agreed. He didn't  want to tell them the story though Carlos knew about it and he always said it wasn't cursed and that what happened in the past should stay in the past. And he knew he was right but he couldn't quite actually move on completely from it. Because he missed you. He slept with a lot of women, tried to date a few after his divorce. He tried to find you in every body he could touch. But none of them felt like your skin. Even if they had the same hair, or eyes, none of them had your smile. The one he loved to see every morning he woke up.

They got into the cafe. It looked pretty different from what he remembered. And he remembered it all too well. He won't ever forget how everybody turned to look at him walking away leaving that poor girl crying, alone and with her heart broken. He was so selfish. Maybe too manly for his liking. He was an asshole to say the least. And he knew it. He won't ever deny it. but He likes to think he learnt from it. 

His breathing stopped when while taking a seat and listening to Carlos talk about how next year he was gonna work in the Ferrari team on strategy, he saw you. The girl he had nightmares with and his most lovely dreams. All he could do was smile. You looked so different yet so beautiful. He realized he had never seen you this beautiful from what he can remember. You dont look like in the pictures of your times together he keeps on a google photos cloud. But you didn't smile back at him. That made him feel an ache in his heart for some reason. Not that he would see you ever again he guessed. He observed every single moment you did until he couldn't see you anymore. He was left feeling confused but tried to play it cool so the guys wouldn't catch him. He felt weird for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop seeing your face looking him straight in the eyes. what was your life now? were you married? were you single? he knew you were a writer but even if he thought he wouldnt see you again, he wanted to know. he wanted to know you. Were you as miserable as him?

When you got into your car you started breathing heavily hearing his loud laugh in your head repeating like a broken record. You felt scared. Why now? Why now that you really need to move on? Why is it gotta be now that he shows up in your life again?

You just drove home trying to make yourself believe it was a dream. He wasn't real. He didn't walk into the same coffee shop he broke up with you. He didn't smile at you. You didn't stare at him for a few microseconds. That moment didn't exist. 

You were hallucinating, you guessed. 

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Chapter two: here.

tag list: @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136

author's note: alrightyyyyy, i thought this would be just one part but then i had so many ideas that it will turn into a series! so feedback is very welcome!!

i just really hope you like it as much as i like this idea!

i'm already working in part two so stay tuned i will update you in these next few days <3

thank you all so much for reading and supporting my work, mwak mwak, you are amazing!

Don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

It's episode 4 If I Can't Reach You / Let My Song Teach You, time for two of my favorite things: glam rock and homosexuals. which are basically the same thing if you think about it.

she's like damn, billy, that was ruthless. honestly this is going to make her care about billy even more, not only he's powerful, not only he reminds her of nicky. now he's a murderer too?? perfect son is perfect. I love how she's studying sharon's body with her detective Agnes face, her mind is going a million miles a minute

her third-wall-break winks destroy me. and that poor hairdo. all gone expect for the giant turd on top.

alice being truly and genuinely sorry about sharon. lilia and jen being gossiping hags

agatha honey you're so dainty and feminine, look at you. and that's an interesting and not at all painful tree shape you picked. (I would have never noticed any of this without brightening the scene, it's outrageous. everyone involved in this show is amazing except the lighting department. shame on you lighting department)

whatever alice does openly and sincerely, agatha does secretly or as a joke. parallels, parallels

jen is like, can you believe this bitch

without being asked, alice goes to help digging the grave

that is the idiot I fell in love with and I'm way past regretting my choices at this point!! I know how rio feels now

"coven two" is one of those lines that make you laugh on first view and shreds your heart in a million tiny pieces at every following rewatch. this show HAS to be watched at least twice, don't ever trust reviews or complaints by ppl who didn't, because they missed at least half of what makes it great.

a clown running from the tragic truth that her son wrote the Ballad, making sad clown noises all over the Road

when alice is called to referee as the Resident Ballad Expert and agatha looks at her expectantly hands in pockets, somehow extremely obnoxious, extremely gay and extremely sad at the same time

alice is SO above bickering. jen is being a baby because she's mad at agatha, lilia is being a baby cause she's grumpy and a contrarian, billy is sixteen, agatha is, well, agatha. alice is the only adult in the building

just one, huh? that's fine. that's fine. who needs a heart anyway.

the common gypsophila or baby's breath symbolizes sincerity, purity, innocence. does it symbolizes sharon? or is billy leaving it on her grave a metaphor for his naivety and good intentions gone wrong?

billy's romantic ideals of what it means to be in a coven have just been shattered. he set out, consciously or not, to teach something to these witches and of course it didn't work. he is the one who needs guidance, he is the one who's making a mess of things. he's just a kid.

agatha going !! when billy says he wishes he could go home. agatha covertly pointing out that he has a replacement body and she would really like to know how. she's observing him so closely, trying to puzzle out the mystery. exactly like she did with wanda inside the Hex. not revealing her cards just yet, testing and manipulating him. when that strategy blew up in her face so spectacularly the first time! she's so smart and so reckless it makes her practically an idiot

case in point: she's making up stupid rules trying to manipulate billy into shaping the Road the way she wants. that's right, agatha. let's summon another poor victim you can siphon, wonder who's gonna show up! (and she KNEW sharon was laying dead ten feet away and SOMEONE was bound to be in the neighborhood. dumbass.)

aww he's so proud of himself for having brought the spellbook. he's being helpful! he's made his four moms happy!

check, debatable, check

debatable and debatable

I'm gonna give that one a BIG check

yes I know advil spells "vidal", thank you tumblr for letting me know that one. also same, alice.

'esse viridis non es facile' IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! oh I knew my high school latin was bound to come in handy at least once in my life

(by the way the set + costumes combo is giving me such hocus pocus vibes, but you could never tell because the SCENE IS SO FUCKING DARK) (NO I WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT IT)

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH

I mean girls, you chose to follow the head clown, you have to travel in the clown car. that's on you.

WHY IS THE PRINT SO SMALL???? I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

admit it we all wished it was sharon for a moment

oh?? is that mayhaps someone you know, agatha???

and that's a wrap, see you guys tomorrow!

no, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm doing another one tonight. I need to shove all the rio scenes in my eyeballs NOW

go to episode 4 part 2

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 13 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇so….ahem….implied sa…and a bunch of bad stuff, physical abuse

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Raphael sat cross legged on the lush carpet in his private chambers, his usual air of arrogance softened as he balanced Adonis on his knee. The baby giggled, his chubby hands reaching for the gold pendant Raphael dangled in front of him like a toy. “Look at you,” Raphael said, his voice unusually tender, a smile tugging at his lips. “Already reaching for gold. A true heir to the Skiaphos throne.”

Y/n stood a few feet away, leaning against the doorframe. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her nails digging into her skin as she watched the scene unfold. Adonis’s laughter filled the room, and for a moment, she could almost forget where she was, until reality came crashing back. Adonis reached out again, his tiny fingers brushing against the pendant. “Pa…pa…”

She froze. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She blinked, not sure if she’d just imagined it. But then Adonis said it again, clearer this time, his wide eyes locking onto Raphael. “Papa!”

Raphael’s entire face lit up. He scooped Adonis up, spinning him around as the baby squealed with delight. “That’s right! Papa!” he said proudly, holding Adonis high in the air. “You clever boy.”

She felt like her heart had shattered into a million pieces. That word—papa—was meant for Telemachus, for the man who had cradled Adonis when he first entered the world, who had whispered promises of love and protection to their son. It wasn’t meant for him. But she bit her lip hard, refusing to let the tears spill. Crying wouldn’t help her now. Showing any weakness in front of Raphael would only give him more satisfaction.

Raphael turned to her, his smirk widening as he caught the flicker of pain in her eyes. “Hear that, little birdie? Even your son knows where he belongs now.” He walked over to her, still holding Adonis, and leaned in closer. “This is how it should be. A happy family.”

She forced a tight smile, though her jaw ached from clenching it so hard. “Yes. A happy family,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. Inside, she was screaming. But for Adonis’s sake, she swallowed her anguish and stood there, silently enduring.

——

The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains of Raphael’s opulent chamber, casting a silver glow over y/n as she lay asleep on the massive bed. Her face was serene, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath, and strands of her hair spilled over the pillow like silk. Raphael sat in a chair beside the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin propped on his clasped hands as he stared at her. His expression was unreadable, but his violet eyes were filled with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the faint rustle of the curtains. “My love.” He leaned forward slightly, as if afraid to wake her but unable to stop himself from being closer. There was something about the way she looked in this vulnerable state that made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name, something that felt dangerously close to love, though he wouldn’t admit it.

Raphael’s gaze trailed over her delicate features, pausing on her slightly parted lips. He reached out as if to touch her face, but his hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly before he pulled it back. “You’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. “And one day, you’ll see that this is where you belong. With me.”He stayed there for what felt like hours, watching her sleep, memorizing every detail of her face as if afraid it might change. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine a life where she wasn’t so defiant, where she looked at him with love instead of resentment.

But even in sleep, there was a faint crease in her brow, a subtle reminder of the walls she had built to keep him out. It frustrated him, but it also fueled his determination. Raphael finally leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft sigh. “One day,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “You’ll understand, y/n. You’ll love me.”

And with that, he stayed by her side, his lovesick gaze never leaving her as slowly unclasped her chiton, she wouldn’t mind right? After all he was her husband, and his is what husbands do to their wives. His hands carefully removed her gown from her body. He deserved to feel her.

——

Y/n woke with a start, her chest heaving as tears streamed down her face. The oppressive weight of her situation hit her like a wave, her mind racing with images of everything Raphael had done to her, everything he’d taken away. She curled herself into a ball on the edge of the bed, clutching her knees to her chest as sobs racked her body. She muffled her cries in the crook of her arm, afraid to make too much noise, but the pain was too much to bear in silence. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight seeping through the curtains, and the air felt suffocating despite its vastness.

Raphael stirred beside her, grumbling something incoherent before turning onto his side. His voice, rough with sleep, broke through her cries. “Shut up, y/n,” he muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Stop your overdramatic whining. It’s exhausting.” His words cut through her like a blade, but she wasn’t surprised. She bit her lip to stifle her cries, her body shaking as she hugged herself tighter. The coldness of his tone only made her tears fall harder, but she forced herself to stay silent, not wanting to provoke him further.

Y/n stared at the shadows on the wall, feeling more alone than ever. Her heart ached for Telemachus, for Adonis, for the life that had been ripped away from her. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but the chain around her wrist and the man lying beside her reminded her of the power he held over her. She turned her face into the pillow, letting the sobs silently consume her until exhaustion finally pulled her back into restless sleep. Beside her, Raphael remained undisturbed, his breathing steady, completely unbothered by the torment he’d caused.

—-

The morning light streamed through the windows as she sat in the corner of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She flinched at every sound, her eyes darting to every shadow that shifted. Servants approached her tentatively, offering food and water, but she refused to let anyone near. Her trembling hands clutched at the fabric of her dress, her breath shallow and uneven. “Leave me alone,” she whispered hoarsely to one of the maids, her voice cracking. When the girl hesitated, her eyes widened in fear, and she snapped, “I said go!”

The servants exchanged nervous glances before backing away, muttering amongst themselves. The tension in the air was palpable. Raphael entered the room, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. He took one look at her trembling frame and the untouched breakfast on the table, and his jaw tightened. “Enough of this nonsense,” he said coldly, his voice echoing through the room.

She flinched at his tone, pressing herself further into the corner as if she could disappear into the walls. “Don’t,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Raphael’s patience wore thin. He strode toward her with purposeful steps, his eyes dark and unforgiving. “You’re acting like a child,” he snapped. When she recoiled from him, he let out a low growl of frustration.

“Don’t touch me!” She shrieked, her voice breaking as she tried to shuffle away. That was the last straw. Raphael grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back sharply. Pandora cried out, her hands instinctively flying up to his wrist to try and lessen the pain.

“Listen to me, you ungrateful little brat,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. “You don’t get to act like this. You’re mine now, and you’ll behave like it.”

Tears streamed down her face as she whimpered, her body trembling under his grip. “Please,” she choked out, “just let me go…”

Raphael’s grip on her hair tightened briefly before he shoved her back against the wall, releasing her with a sneer. “Stop this pathetic display,” he said, straightening his posture. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her head as she sobbed quietly, her body wracked with fear and despair.

Athena, in her owl form, perched silently on the ornate railing of the balcony outside Raphael’s chambers. Her piercing, golden eyes focused on the scene unfolding within. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting dim light onto the room where she sat, trembling, her tear streaked face turned away from Raphael, who stood over her. His domineering presence made her cower further into herself, his words venomous and dripping with cruelty as he reminded her who controlled her now.

Athena’s sharp gaze never wavered, her feathers ruffling slightly as her talons dug into the railing. The goddess could not interfere directly, but her wrath burned like a smoldering ember as she bore witness to her suffering. Raphael’s actions, his cruel grip, and his mocking tone made her blood boil. She sobbed quietly, her voice broken and pleading. Raphael ignored her, his demeanor cold as he himself on her, breaking her spirit further. It was a sight that would enrage any mortal, but for Athena it was unforgivable.

When Raphael left the room, slamming the door shut, Athena let out a quiet, mournful hoot before spreading her wings and taking flight into the night. Her path was clear, she would inform Telemachus. Telemachus sat by the campfire with Acrisios and Pisistratus, strategizing their next moves. Though his body was present, his mind wandered constantly to y/n. Her face haunted his thoughts, her laugh, her touch, it was all he could think about. He clenched his fists, suppressing the mounting fear that she might be suffering.

Suddenly, Athena’s owl form swooped down from the night sky, landing on a nearby post. Her sharp gaze fell upon Telemachus, and she hooted twice. Telemachus immediately rose to his feet, recognizing the divine presence. “Athena,” he breathed. “What news do you bring?”

The owl’s form shimmered briefly, her presence filling Telemachus’s mind with a vivid and horrific vision of what she had seen in Skiaphos. He saw his wife crying, her hands trembling as Raphael humiliated and hurt her, his disgusting grip on her and the overwhelming fear in her eyes. He saw Adonis’s laughter being overshadowed by her pain, her desperation to protect him despite her suffering.

As the vision ended, Telemachus staggered backward, his chest heaving as rage boiled to the surface. “No…” he whispered, his voice breaking. His eyes darted to Athena, who remained perched and calm, as if waiting for his resolve to settle. But Telemachus didn’t settle. He exploded.

A guttural roar tore from his throat as he kicked over the wooden bench by the fire, sending it crashing to the ground. “That bastard!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the camp. He punched the nearest post, splintering the wood. “I’ll kill him! I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands!”

“Telemachus, calm down!” Acrisios shouted, rushing to his side, but Telemachus shoved him off, pacing like a caged animal.

“You don’t understand!” Telemachus snarled, his eyes wild and filled with tears. “She’s suffering! He’s—he’s hurting her! And I’m not there! I should’ve been there!” His voice cracked, and he sank to his knees, his hands clutching his hair.

Pisistratus approached cautiously. “Telemachus, we’ll get her back. You have to focus—”

“Focus?” Telemachus shot back, his voice venomous. “How can I focus when my wife, my son, are in the hands of that monster?” His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. “I’ll make him pay. I’ll burn Skiaphos to the ground if I have to.” Athena hooted softly, as if approving his fiery resolve. She spread her wings and took flight again, leaving Telemachus with his rage and the promise of divine guidance.

Telemachus stood, his chest heaving as he turned to his men. “Prepare yourselves. We leave as soon as possible.” Acrisios hesitated but nodded, knowing there was no reasoning with Telemachus in this state. Pisistratus followed suit, though worry lingered in his eyes.

Telemachus clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with fury. “Raphael won’t see the Helios rise by the time I’m through with him.”

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk

@h0ne4bee @minteaspoon @zendoesstuff

[reclinepilled]

needy, e.w.

cw: fluff!!! little angst, pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart, princess, gorgeous) like one curse word, reader yells at ellie, reader cries a teeny tiny bit, no masc/fem roles are established

desc: gamer!ellie is glued to her game while your patience runs short. also soft!ellie🙏.

a/n: happy march 1st guys! i wanted to share something i wrote while procrastinating some work. thanks for all the support on my last two posts. also the anon that sent in the request, im working on it <3 thank you for reading and reblogs are welcomed and greatly appreciateddd !

wc: 801 (i think)

PLEASE READ HERE ON INFORMATION ABOUT AND HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!!!

you try not to be so needy, you really do. however, your heart can't help but get a little heavy watching ellie completely ignore your presence on one of your days off. and she's not even ignoring you to study or work, it's to play her stupid games.

sure, you played your fair share of video games, as you had an undying love for that one genre. however, you didn't come over under the impression that you'd be getting lonely in her bed, angry, while occasionally letting out a frustrated sigh. she didn't pay attention to those, too busy yelling at her friends on whatever fps shooter she was glued to.

you got angrier and angrier thinking about it and listening to her mash the buttons on her keyboard and throw insults out into her mic. you swear you can feel the annoyance in your bloodstream. you just wanted to do skincare and facemasks, watch some movies, and maybe even bake with your girlfriend. you decide to put your anger aside and give her the benefit of the doubt. you get up from her bed to remind her of what you two had planned. maybe she forgot?

"ellie, baby?" you say as you grab her shoulder softly to get her attention. she glances up at you then moves her headset off one of her ears, "yea- jesse, what the hell! he was literally one hp!" she yells. "anyways, sorry, what's up?" ellie finally gives you two scoops of her attention. "el, i thought we were gonna spend time together..," you say, shifting your weight to one leg as you cross your arms. "yea, yea, of course. just give me five more minutes," ellie says as she turns back to her game. "you literally said that 30 minutes ago, el," you sigh. "i mean it this time," ellie turns to you, doing a puppy face jokingly.

any other time you would burst into a fit of laughter, however right now, you were genuinely pissed off. you stare at her for a few seconds in silence, she stares back. her face slowly drops as she realizes you're pretty upset. next thing you know, you've reached over and put her pc into sleep mode. "y/n! why!??" she whines like a teenage boy going through puberty. "because, i came over on my day off to spend time with you, i could be getting a manicure or something.. but i've spent nearly an hour and a half watching you play this shitty game!" you yell then you walk out of her room, fed up. you grab your bag next to the couch and start to put your belongings away.

"sweetheart! i'm sorry, i really am!" she says as she follows you out of the room. you ignore her, now putting your bag on your shoulder. "look," ellie comes in front of you and softly slides the bag off of your shoulder, she notices how you're still looking down. she gently grabs your shoulders while looking down at you with an apologetic look on her face, "i am so sorry, i just got caught up in the game. i enjoy you being here, and i find your presence so comforting, beautiful. i never meant to make you feel unappreciated, i'm sorry once again." she takes her hand and lifts your face up, and notices your tear stained cheeks.

ellie's heart quite honestly shattered into a million pieces, she didn't know she made you feel so bad but she understands now. "baby, we can do whatever you want," she pulls you into a meaningful embrace while rubbing your back. "els, i love you, sorry for yelling and overreacting-" she cuts you off, "no don't apologize, it was pretty justified, i was being dumb," she lets out an airy laugh, "i love you back, princess."

she could feel you smile against her chest and it felt like 10 tons were lifted off of her back. she pulls away to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your nose, one on your cheek, and long one on your lips.

you straddle her on her bed while softly chuckling at the cute fuzzy animal headband you placed on ellie's head. you roll the jade roller all over her face, working in the serum you applied before. you can't help but admire how pretty she is. her constellations of freckles, each one so unique, her breathtaking deep eyes, and her long lashes you were so jealous of. little did you know, she was doing the same. you looked like a goddess from this angle, the light cascading down on your perfect figure emphasizing it. "hey baby?" ellie grabs your wrist. "yea, gorgeous?" you slightly lean back from her face, raising a brow.

"it's really hot when you yell at me."

reclinepilled

please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !

[its-avalon-08]

you create life (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - pregnancy, fluff, tears, comfort

Carlos and Y/N were a tapestry woven with threads of adoration and companionship. Their love story, a five-year-long symphony of shared laughter, silent understanding, and unwavering support, was the envy of many. They were the epitome of a modern power couple, their careers soaring like eagles, their hearts intertwined like ivy.

Y/N, a brilliant strategist with a sharp mind and an even sharper wit, complemented Carlos's fiery passion and relentless drive. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Neither had explicitly broached the topic of children, their focus predominantly on their individual and shared ambitions. Yet, their love was deep-rooted, a fertile ground where dreams sprouted and flourished.

It was a sweltering afternoon at the paddock, the cacophony of engines and pit crews a constant hum in the background. Carlos, drenched in adrenaline and focus, was in the zone. But the world outside the cockpit crashed into his reality when his phone vibrated. It was Y/N. Her voice, usually a melodious chime, was now a broken symphony of sobs.

Panic surged through him. He excused himself, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities. "Love, what's wrong? Talk to me," he urged, his voice laced with concern. But she could only cry, her words lost in the tempest of her emotions.

With a heavy heart, Carlos made a decision. The race, the championship, everything faded into insignificance. He needed to be with her. In that moment, the roaring engines, the cheering crowds, the hunger for victory – all of it paled in comparison to the woman he loved.

He rushed out of the paddock, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm. The drive to their home was a blur, a desperate journey to reach the source of her distress. As he pulled into the driveway, his hands trembled. He took a deep breath, his mind preparing for the unknown.

The house was quiet, an eerie stillness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil he imagined inside. He found her in their bedroom, curled up on the bed, her body shaking with sobs. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and intelligence, were now red and swollen.

Carlos's heart shattered into a million pieces. He knelt beside the bed, taking her hand in his. "Love, look at me," he whispered, his voice gentle. She turned her face towards him, her expression a raw, vulnerable mask of pain.

"Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N’s voice was a broken whisper, lost in a labyrinth of apologies. "I’m so sorry, Carlos. I’m so sorry," she repeated, her body trembling uncontrollably. Each word was a dagger to his heart, yet he couldn't decipher the reason for her distress. Panic began to gnaw at him. "Love, please, tell me what’s wrong," he urged, his voice laced with desperation.

Then, she held up the pregnancy test, the stark white lines a silent accusation against the tranquility of their world. Time seemed to freeze, the only sound the erratic thumping of Carlos's heart. Y/N’s eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and hope, searched his face for a reaction.

A heavy silence descended upon the room, a vacuum of emotions. Carlos's mind raced, trying to comprehend the implications of this tiny, plastic device. His world was turned upside down, yet there was an undercurrent of something else, something profound and beautiful.

Y/N's voice broke the stillness, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Carlos, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I know, I know, we haven’t talked about kids or anything, and our careers are going so well. I’m so scared, I don’t know what to do. I was so careful, I don’t understand how this could happen.

I know we were supposed to focus on our careers, to build our lives together, and now this… I feel like I’ve ruined everything. I know you’re strong, and you’ll figure everything out, but I’m so scared. I don't want to let you down. I don’t want to be a disappointment.

I know you’re going to be an amazing father, the best father, but I’m terrified. I don’t feel ready. What if I can’t be the mother our child deserves? What if I mess everything up? I’m so selfish, I know. I should be happy, but I’m just scared. I’m so scared, Carlos."

But Carlos wasn’t listening to her words. His heart was soaring, a symphony of joy and disbelief. He was going to be a father. The thought was so overwhelming, it was as if he was floating. He pulled her into his arms, spinning her around in a whirlwind of happiness.

“We’re going to be parents, Y/N! I'M GOING TO BE DAD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” he shouted, his laughter ringing through the room. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he kissed her breathless. “I love you so much. This is the best news ever!”

Y/N's sobs turned into laughter, a sweet melody that filled the room. In that moment, fear and uncertainty vanished, replaced by a shared dream of parenthood. Their love, a foundation built on trust and companionship, was about to embark on its most extraordinary chapter yet.

"Shhh, my love, shhh," Carlos whispered, his voice trembling as he wiped away her tears. His own eyes were a glistening ocean, but his heart was overflowing with joy. "You're not ruining anything, Y/N. You're creating something extraordinary. Something beautiful.

I've always wanted kids, but never as much as I want them with you. With the woman who makes my world brighter, who makes me laugh harder, who makes me a better person. You are the most incredible woman I know, and you're going to be an amazing mother.

I promise, I'll be there every step of the way. We'll figure this out together. We'll make sure our little one has everything they need, and more importantly, all the love in the world. Your dreams, your career, they're all important to me. I'll make sure you can continue to pursue them. But right now, let's just focus on this incredible miracle growing inside you. We'll cross every bridge when we come to it, together, as a team. Siempre estaré aquí para ti mi amor, estás creando vida. y por eso eres una diosa (I'll always be here for you my love, you are creating life. and for that you are a goddess)."

As he held her close, Carlos felt a surge of protectiveness. He would be her rock, her support, her partner in this incredible journey. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way, their love a beacon of hope in the vast ocean of parenthood.

And in that instant, as they stood there, their hearts intertwined, they knew that their love story was far from over. It was just beginning, a new chapter filled with the promise of life, laughter, and an unconditional love that would shape generations to come.

[reveryfics]

I really love your little Bucky x male reader stories and I hope there are more of them to come.

(≧◡≦) (

I wish you happy and relaxing holidays.

ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ﾉ

Dear James

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Male reader

Summary: Bucky can faintly remember the day he left for war, but what he remembers most is the promise he made.

A/n: So glad you enjoy the Bucky oneshots, and happy holidays to you as well!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The sheets rustled as their bodies intertwined, their bare skin a map of constellations under the pale moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains. Bucky, his face buried in his boyfriend's chest, listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting drum against his ear. Tears, old and new, traced paths down his cheeks, leaving damp trails in their wake. The thought of leaving, of facing a war without him, was a suffocating weight on his chest.

Ever the anchor, he shifted, his hand finding its way into Bucky's hair, gently stroking it. The other hand, rough and calloused, cupped Bucky's cheek, tilting his head up. "Look at me, James," he whispered, his voice a low rumble, a caress against Bucky's skin. "Don't think about what's to come in the morning. Focus on here and now."

Bucky, trembling, squeezed his eyes shut, trying to anchor himself to the present moment, to the warmth of his body pressed against his own, to the scent of coffee grounds and familiar comfort that clung to his skin. "How can you be so calm?" he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Believe me, I'm not," he admitted, his voice laced with a vulnerability Bucky rarely saw. "But I can't spend my life worrying about what might be. I have to focus on what I have now, on the fact that you're here with me, right now."

It was a constant refrain, this dance of reassurance and despair. Every time Bucky faced a mission, every time he stared down the barrel of a gun, the fear of losing him gnawed at him. But he, with his unwavering optimism and unwavering love, always found a way to calm the storm within him.

"Promise me something," Bucky whispered, his voice catching. "Promise no matter what happens, you'll always remember me."

He sighed, pulling Bucky closer, their lips meeting in a kiss that tasted of salt and fear and a love that defied time. "I promise I'll always remember you, James Buchanan Barnes," he murmured against Bucky's lips, his voice a solemn vow.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

That promise, that simple, profound promise, echoed through the years, a haunting melody in the symphony of Bucky's memories. Now, decades later, standing in the sterile, antiseptic glow of the hospital room, that promise felt like a cruel irony.

His skin papery thin, his eyes glazed over with a distant look, lay on the hospital bed, a ghost of the vibrant man Bucky had loved. Tears welled up in Bucky's eyes, blurring the edges of his vision. "I'm so sorry," he choked out, the words catching in his throat.

His eyes fluttered open, a flicker of recognition in their depths. "James?" he whispered, his voice a frail echo of the one Bucky knew.

Bucky, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, knelt beside the bed. "It's me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "It's me, baby.”

A slow, watery smile touched his lips. "I know," he rasped, his hand reaching out to grasp Bucky's. "I know."

Bucky leaned over, pressing soft kisses to Steve's forehead, his temples, his cheekbones. "I never forgot you," he whispered, his voice fading.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Bucky, his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, watched as the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor flatlined, the sound a cruel mockery of the life that had just slipped away. He had lost everything, everything that mattered.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Bucky found himself adrift in a sea of grief, the apartment of his boyfriend a haunting reminder of a love lost. He wandered through the rooms, each object a poignant memory – his worn leather jacket draped over the back of a chair, a half-finished crossword puzzle lying abandoned on the coffee table, a single rose, long since withered, tucked into a vase on the windowsill.

He stumbled upon an old wooden box tucked away in the back of a closet, overflowing with letters. Each one bore his name, the delicate script a testament to his boyfriend's unwavering devotion. They smelled faintly of coffee and old books, a comforting reminder of the man who had filled his life with joy.

Bucky sank into the worn leather armchair, the letters spilling from the box onto his lap. He read each one, tears tracing paths through the faded ink. Letters from the early days of their relationship, filled with youthful exuberance and the thrill of new love. Letters from decades ago filled with longing and the fear of losing the man he loved. And finally, a letter written not long ago, the ink still fresh.

"Dear James," it began, the words swirling before his eyes. "That night, that night under the moonlight, still lingers in my memory. The feel of your skin against mine, the taste of you on my lips, the sound of your heartbeat against my own. I remember my promise, the promise to never forget you."

Bucky could read no more. The words blurred, the memories crashing over him like a tidal wave. Grief, raw and consuming, threatened to drown him. But through the tears, through the pain, he knew one thing for certain: his love for him, a love that had spanned lifetimes, would endure. It was a love that death itself could not extinguish.

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Dottore (normalized yandere AU)

going from this post and the credit to the names goes to @busy-dadzawa-fish who I asked if I could use the names they came up with here as placeholder names for the other darlings when writing from different perspectives

The last time you saw Zandik was the day before he was expelled from the Akademiya. You had always been close friends, sticking with each other through thick and thin, but something felt off. He had tried to convince you that you should leave the Akademiya and how they are constricting your research, you thought of it as just a silly idea, nothing more. Then the next day he was gone, you heard whispers about how he was conducting inhumane experiments and the Akademiya had no choice but to expel him. You felt horribly betrayed by someone you once called friend, but now as you hear it everything made sense. Zandik was always secretive when discussing his research with you, not to mention his controlling tendencies when you would do something he didn’t like.

You didn’t hear from your old friend for years, not until you received a letter from a Fatui soldier, your heart sank when you read it. The letter was from Zandik, or rather his new alias, Il Dottore,number two of the Fatui Harbingers. It was the same handwriting, the same style that Zandik used to write in, but now it felt so dark now that you knew everything. It was begging you to come and join him, telling you to think of all the great things you could accomplish together, but his true nature disgusted you, it made you feel sick. You discarded the letter and didn’t even bother to write back.

You went on to live your life, graduate from the Akademiya, moving on to continue your medical research, and you did amazing things. You cured so many people, saved so many lives, found new ways to heal complex injuries and sickness. You weren’t in it for the fame or the fortune, just to help people, that is all you ever wanted. Of course, your research does not go unnoticed…

You remember the fire…

You remember the bright colors as your lab was ablaze…

The broken equipment…

The missing research…

Oh what a fool you were…

You were out one day, going to gather materials, leaving your house and lab unattended. You should have made better notice of the people you passed on the street that day, including the two Fatui agents walking pass you as you left your house.

You remember standing in front of your blazing house as people attempted to put out the flames. Your heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces as you watched your whole life go up in flames, literally.

You stayed with your friend for a few weeks, a friend from school, she was kind enough to let you stay with her. As you were cleaning up after dinner she came up to you, holding a letter. She told you she found it in the crack under the door, someone must have slipped it under there. You recognized the Fatui insignia as you ripped it open, your heart going a million miles per hour.

Meet me at our old study spot if you want your research back, bring nothing.

You burned with rage, you knew who it was from and you had a guess what would happen if you accepted and what would happen if you didn’t. You knew Dottore’s twisted nature and you would likely be stuck with him for the rest of your days if you accepted, and if you rejected you would be harassed by the Fatui and hunted down until you accepted. Your research was your life’s work, you couldn’t just give it up, so you set out like he asked, but on the way a small accident occurred. You ran into a young ex-Fatui solider who was literally running from the Fatui when you met him, . You had managed to use your dendro vision to hide the two of you in a tree while the Fatui passed. Once you were about to go your separate ways he somehow convinced you not to, probably because he was in the same situation you were in but with Capitano.

You learned that the ex-Fatui’s name was Julius, and he definitely was not fit to be a soldier with how kind and gentle he was. You two traveled around for quite sometime until you met a strange woman who you had come to know as the Historian, and she was not to different from the two of you. She introduced you to others like you two, and you all kept connections with one another but while they could find one another they couldn’t find the Historian again, it was like she hid herself. You and Julius set yourselves up with traveling Sumeru, with you trying to rebuild your research the best you can and Julius protecting you. You never went into cities, it could be to dangerous.

Then you heard of the kidnapping of one of your friends, Colombina’s darling, along with many of the others meeting you and Julius in Sumeru, telling you of everything that happened. You were being backed into a corner and archons know where the Historian is. So while everyone was sleeping at the campsite you went on a walk to clear your mind. You sat at the base of a statue of the seven, looking down at the dendro vision in your hands, wondering why you were given this, you didn’t feel wise, you felt like a fool. You didn’t even process the footsteps coming up from behind you

“Oh (Name)”

Your heart sank at that voice, and your blood run cold. The blue haired doctor came to walk in front of you, kneeling down to be on eye level with you, despite the mask he wore.

“You look so tired.”

His words of comfort reminded you of the man he used to be, almost making you forget of the monster he was that was right in front of you. A second longer and you might have broke down into her arms, crying and apologizing when none of this was your fault, but luckily someone calling your name snapped you out of your trance. You slapped him across the face, his mask falling to the ground revealing the thin scar covering bits of his face, parts of his forehead, nose, cheeks, it wasn’t terrifying or disturbing just purely shocking. Now the Zandik you knew was gone both in personality and appearance. But before the doctor could recover from your strike, a flaming arrow came, zipping right past you and striking the harbinger tight in the shoulder. You turned to see Julius, bow in hand, and pyro vision on his hip. He called put to you again and you didn’t waste a moment before you followed after your friend, running into the forest, a place where even a harbinger would have a hell of a time finding you.

…You were tired

…but you still have to run.

[yanderecrazysie]

Hello can give Is it crime part two please 🙏

This was also requested a ton on Quotev and Wattpad. Don’t know why lol.

Title: Is It a Crime Part 2

Pairings: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, light swearing

Summary: Shoto isn’t fond of the quirk marriage his dad has arranged. At least, he didn’t think so at first.

Part 1: here

“Is it a crime

That I still want you?

And I want you to want me too

My love is wider, wider than Victoria Lake

My love is taller, taller than the Empire State

It dives, it jumps, and it ripples like the deepest ocean

I can't give you more than that, surely, you want me back”

-from “Is It a Crime” by Sade

You’d never seen Shoto so desperate.

The red-and-white haired man was near tears when he arrived at your door and, in wordless shock, you let him in. The typically emotionless male had never shown this much emotion to you and it made you feel a little unnerved.

“I made a mistake,” Shoto said, “Please, sign the wedding contract again. We can get married and… be happy together.”

You only miss people when they’re gone. That saying rang true here more than ever. You had left his sorry self behind and he must have regretted driving you away. 

But that didn’t take back what you’d heard from him and how you’d been treated. It didn’t take back the feelings of disappointment and humiliation, the constant wishing that things would be different and the depression that followed when you realized things would never change.

Every day in that mansion had been awful, pointless, and heart-breaking. As soon as you had gotten home, you were sure you were in the right place.

You never thought you’d see Todoroki Shoto ever again.

Who’s to say that, once you went back, everything would be fine? What if everything went back to the way it was? What if he was only asking because you were a live-in maid and chef to him, and he just missed that? 

Either way, the answer was clear.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” you said softly, “I don’t want to marry you.”

Shoto flinched like he’d been shot. His eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing in anger.

“You’re going to sign the contract,” He reiterated. 

“No, I’m not. I’m not going back to that life, Shoto. I was miserable in that mansion and I’m not going to willingly walk back into it.”

Shoto stopped for a second, then spat, “Who said anything about ‘willingly’?”

Your expression turned stormy and you spun around, ready to walk away from him. He was a lost cause- a child throwing a tantrum. No way were you going to stick around and humor him.

Suddenly, a wall of ice appeared in your path. Shocked, you turned around to find Shoto with his right arm out as though he was pushing something invisible. 

Fury shot through you like a white-hot knife. Reaching your own hand out, you pressed it against the smooth ice and focused your energy into it.

The giant ice wall shattered into millions of tiny pieces in an instant. You felt a rush of grim victoriousness when you saw Shoto’s wide-eyed expression. He had never bothered to ask what your quirk was, and you had never bothered to tell him.

“If you don’t mind,” you said hotly, “I’ll be leaving now.” 

Shoto responded with a low growl and an air push from his left hand. Now, a wall of fire blocked your path.

“What the hell, Shoto?” you screamed, “You’re going to burn my house down!”

“I don’t care,” came the cold response. Shoto’s heterochromatic glare bored into you and you felt tears well up in your eyes. This was your childhood home! Your parents lived here! You lived here!

You ran to the kitchen and searched for a bowl big enough to fill with water. You had to put out the fire and fast, before it got out of control and burned this place to the ground. But as soon as you had surfaced, holding a mixing bowl victoriously, Shoto made a wall of fire that cut you off from the sink. 

You fled the house, tears running down your face as you abandoned the place you grew up. There was nothing you could do now except run away from Shoto.

But there was no escape. Every way you turned, you were met with fire, until the only way to run was to the red-and-white haired man. Tearfully, you trudged back to him, disappointment weighing heavily on your shoulders.

“You still can’t force me to sign that document,” you said sharply.

“We’ll see about that, (Y/n). We’ll see.”

[happysaddca]

So I've been writing a lot for @wyervan's slasher AU... mostly smut... and thus it's been a hot minute since I had something I felt comfortable publishing online (the smut I'm just eh cause I feel like I might have a lot of kids following me but also I have so few followers that it'll probably not even be noticed??).

This is a snippet from after Ellis is in the know about what Sun and Moon do. They've been lowkey pressed into a "bonding activity" (Sun's words). They're not handling it very well.

TW for semi-graphic depiction of murder (I gloss over it mostly tbh it's hard for me to write without agonizing over), alcoholism, and a panic attack on Ellis's end.

Ellis pulls uncomfortably at the mask covering their face. Unlike Sun and Moon, they didn’t wear a costume, opting for simple black on black with a mask and gloves to ensure maximum coverage. They’ve also been left behind at the house while the two go to flush out their victim from where he’d gone off to hide. 

Ellis pokes through the rooms with the sort of idle curiosity wrought from stress and too much time to waste. One door’s locked, but it’s easy to bobby pin their way inside and find an office, the computer currently off. They poke at the mouse with their bat to be sure, but yep, it’s off. Moving on, it’s a small house, two bedrooms, one made up for the kid that’s currently away. 

Nathan, they remember. The room is pretty bare bones, but they don’t remember how long it’s been since the divorce. Maybe this isn’t the marital home and Nathan’s dad is still putting the pieces together? Sun had explained some of the man’s crimes that brought them here. Neglect, mostly. It brought a sour taste to Ellis’s mouth when they opened the master bedroom up and found skin mags on the bed and a pile of beer cans overflowing from the trash can. It smells like sweat and laundry and old cum. They gag as they shut the door, making it to the kitchen as the door slams open. 

The man barrelling through is a sweating, oversized mess, his face white and red in equal measure and his hair slicked to his head from sweat. He’s lost momentum crashing through his door, stumbling over his own shoes as he attempts to close it behind him. Ellis backs to keep the kitchen table between the two of them, noting with more disgust a shelf full of liquor and a bag of trash with more beer cans poking out the top. 

He spots Ellis and lets out a strangled, breathy scream before noticing they only hold a bat. “A-are you with the clowns? You gotta help me; I didn’ do anything!” Ellis notices there’s blood dripping from one hand onto the cheap linoleum floor. He lurches towards Ellis, who lifts their bat in self-defense. 

Splintering wood and shattering glass sprays from behind the man, and Ellis and he both flinch. Moon wrenches his axe back for a second swing, Sun’s voice catcalling through. “Oh, what a naughty brat. Running away when all we want to do is play, play play!” 

“Help me!” The man grabs for Ellis, but he’s jerked back by his collar as Moon shoves his way through the splintered remains of the door. Ellis feels their grip on their bat slip, squeezing it tighter when Moon throws the man against the counter. His head hits the sink, the metal dully thudding as he grunts and slips down. “Please,” he asks, and there’s spit dripping from his mouth flecked with tiny bits of red. 

Moon’s mask swings towards Ellis, who gives a short little nod at the smiling facade. They’re okay, untouched, even though their heart is hammering a million miles a minute against the inside of their ribcage.  They can taste blood in their mouth, but a cursory swipe of the tongue tells them nothing’s broken. 

“Oh Moony, Nova, looks like our friend might finally be ready to play. What do you say?” The playful tone in Sun’s voice is at odds with the static smile of his mask and the knife he’s carrying. As he speaks, he squats next to the man, his bells jingling like mad, using his knife to poke at the man’s cheek. “Oh, nevermind. Moon, you were too rough with the man! He’s all passed out now.” 

“Went for Nova.” Moon squats too, leaning against his axe as he leans forward and pulls the man’s face up, his hair a handle. He lets go of the hair, the white on his hand bright red from blood. “Probably out for a minute.” 

“Let’s get him set up in one of the chairs.” Sun bounces up with one arm, Moon moving more sedately, his axe set aside. “Nova, starlight, can you bring us some rope?” 

“Y-yeah. From the bag, right?” They nearly drop their bat, covertly wiping their hands off on their jeans. It doesn’t do much, the sweat slow to wick away in the rayon blend. 

“Yes sir. Be quick! He’ll be waking up in a minute.” Sun waves them off. 

The bag’s been left in the living room, and Ellis digs through for the rope, ignoring the way their stomach lurches at some of Sun and Moon’s other tools — hedge clippers, pliers. The rope is cheap stuff from the local hardware store, coarse and itchy even through their gloves. They coil it over one arm, noticing a pile of mail. 

Curious, and not ready to step back in the kitchen, they poke through. It’s bills mostly, a letter for the county court, and a familiar logo. A triangle with two A’s. They rip it open, skimming the contents before tossing it aside. 

“Nova!” Sun’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Where are you? Did you get lost?” 

They want to throw up. It’s hard to tell if it’s actually hot in the house or if it’s just the ski mask, but either way, they want to throw up and leave. But they can’t. They look at the rope on their arm, take a deep breath that would fog their glasses had they worn them, and step back into the kitchen. 

Moon’s axe is on the table now, Moon himself back at the door to pull at the remaining wood, enlarging the hole he’d made. Sun’s with the man, his arms crossed, toe tap-tap-tapping away with the little bell swinging wildly off beat. When Ellis reappears, he relaxes, unfolding himself to take the rope. “We were beginning to worry you’d gotten lost Nova dear! Or, goodness forbid, gotten cold feet.” 

“This mask makes everything too warm,” Ellis says dryly, letting Sun take the rope and watching as he ties the man’s wrists together, then to the chair. Legs are next, a complicated looking series of knots ensuring he can’t wiggle free. “Do we have to kill him?” They try not to cringe when both Sun and Moon stare, the ever-smiling masks making their skin crawl. 

“Cold feet indeed,” Sun says with a sigh. He straightens, picking up his knife as he goes. 

Ellis’s gaze flicks to the knife and back again, and they resist the urge to back away. “Not cold feet. Just questioning the validity of this uh, extra-judiciary sentence.” 

“He’s hurt his son,” Sun says with all the patience of a parent on his last cup of coffee.

“Yelling, pulling, neglect,” Moon adds, and it’s impossible not to squirm under his gaze. Ellis nods slowly. It’s hard to argue against something they’re both familiar with. Moon picks up a bottle of liquor, reading the label over before dropping it. The bottle breaks, liquid pooling in the low parts of the floor. “And alcoholism.” 

The smell hits Ellis hard, and they actually step back, squeezing the bat tightly. They want to take of their gloves. “I found something in the mail,” they try to say, but the man wakes up, and the attention is no longer on them. 

“Oh wakey wakey. Did you have a good nap?” Sun circles around, spinning the knife handle in his hand, the point just barely pressing into his finger. Moon approaches from behind, ignoring the flinch from the man as he brushes against him. The flinch intensifies when the axe is dragged back, catching on his shoulder. 

“Please let me go. I’ll give you whatever you want. I won’t call the police, promise. I don’t even know who you are.” 

“They always say that, don’t they Moony?” Sunny asks. 

Ellis can almost feel the eye roll from Moon. “Always. Think they can avoid punishment. Shouldn’t have been naughty.” 

“I found something in the mail,” Ellis tries again, but they’re not heard over Sun’s giggling. Moon’s talking, but they can’t hear properly over the blood rushing in their ears. Maybe their hearing aids are broken. “Guys, I found something.” They can’t even hear themselves. “Guys.” 

Sun slashes, and Ellis flinches back at the spray of blood. Something’s definitely broken. They can’t even hear the scream. But Sun and Moon are getting into things properly, Sun’s blade disappearing and reappearing with red. Ellis watches, something cold twisting deep in their gut. 

“Nova, do you want a turn? There’s plenty of time before our friend — Nova?” Sun turns and finds Ellis frozen in place. “Moony, are they okay?” 

“Please,” the man says weakly, but Sun covers his mouth with a hand. 

“El?” Moon tries, stepping forward. There’s red on his costume now and Ellis remembers how many times they’ve seen his shirt and sleeves stained. How many times they figured it was ketchup stains or maybe from wriggling around in the dirty parts of the arcade. They can’t step back, moving to the side instead. Something crunches under their foot, and they look down. It’s a piece of the broken liquor bottle. 

“I found something,” Ellis says, and they can hear their own voice at last. Sun and Moon do too, the masks cocking in exaggerated curiosity. “A letter from Alcoholics Anonymous. Giving him a sponsor. He’s trying to get better.” 

“Get better?” Sun’s laugh feels cold. “You’ve seen his house, right?” 

“Y-yes. But he’s just divorced, isn’t he? It’s a lot to go through, right?” They do not like Sun and Moon staring at them. They want to take off the masks, see their employers/friends/something else’s faces properly.  Or at least take off their own. It’s so hot, and they can hear themselves breathing. 

“He’s had plenty of time to get better.” Sun air quotes, quick to slap his hand back over the man’s mouth. “Time’s up.” 

Ellis lets out a pent up breath, frustrated. “But, but the courts—” 

“Are trash.” Moon’s voice is cold. He steps forward, lifting his axe to his shoulder. “You know this.” 

Ellis can’t look into his mask’s face, let alone the accompanying eyeholes. They look to the side, spying the liquor shelf again. Their bat feels heavy in their hands. “It’s not too late,” they mumble. 

“It is.” 

“It’s not!” They taste blood again, swinging the bat to the side. Moon flinches away but he’s not the target. The shelf comes crashing down, glass shattering and liquid splashing over their boots. It smells like whiskey and rum and tequila, and Ellis throws up in their mouth. The bile washes away the taste of blood. “It’s not too late. Let him go. Please.” 

Sun just sighs, shoulders dropping as he twirls his blade slowly in one hand. “Nova, friend, it is too late.” 

“But…” 

“He’s seen us. There’s no way he’d not report this to the police.” Sun lets go of the man’s face, the guy immediately pleading for his life, promising money, anonymity, to move away and never return. Sun finishes playing with his knife, holding it and effortlessly slicing the man’s throat. He gurgles, blood foaming up over his lips and bubbling in the new wound. Ellis stares until Moon pulls them away. 

“Sun, going out for air.” 

“You’re leaving me to clean up all on my own?” 

Moon doesn’t reply, his arm heavy around Ellis’s shoulders. When he pulls away to open the door, the ghost of his touch leaves them cold. 

Moon sits with Ellis on the steps, setting the axe down. They stare at it, at the flecks of dark on the otherwise shiny blade, until Moon removes his mask and covers it. He gently pulls the bat free from their death grip, then removes Ellis’s mask, the night air cold after spending so long with their own breath in their face. Ellis squints and wipes at their eyes, unsurprised to find their hand wet. At least it’s from crying and not blood, they think, and they laugh, unable to control themselves. The laugh grows high pitched and manic, and it’s starting to hurt when Moon pulls them close. 

He doesn’t kiss them, and Ellis is grateful because they cannot handle the idea of dealing with that on top of whatever breakdown they’re currently going through. Moon just holds them against his side in the relatively cool night air while Sun is… while Sun is dealing with the body. Ellis shivers and closes their eyes, burying themself against Moon’s side. 

“Think it was too soon for you to join us,” Moon finally says. Ellis lets out a weak giggle that’s quickly stifled behind one hand. “Too much at once?”

“I use a bat. It’s not sharp.” They’re still crying, and it’s still hard to properly articulate why. “He could’ve gotten better.” 

“Did you parents get better?” 

Ellis is quiet at that. They slump into Moon instead, squeezing their eyes shut when he toys with the curve of their ear. 

“You should rest in the car. I’m going to help Sun finish up here.” Moon starts to move, but Ellis nearly falls without the support. Moon holds them up with one hand. “Think you can make it?” 

Ellis looks down the driveway, where the car is hidden behind some trees. “Yeah,” they say, but Moon’s definitely not listening. He stands, gathering their things and pulling Ellis up with him. He helps them walk, even when they finally get their feet under them and could move on their own. They only protest when Moon starts helping them into the car, taking their hearing aids. “Hey, no, I need those.” 

Moon doesn’t reply, merely pocketing them somewhere in his pants. Ellis squints and tries to go for them, but he traps their hands in his, and this time there is a kiss. It’s brief, but it derails Ellis long enough for him to shut the door. They sit in the artificially (is it artificial if their ability to hear is the artificial thing) induced silence. Their mouth tastes rancid, and their gloves are itchy. They rip them off and throw them into the front of the car, dropping their head in their arms to scream. 

[mollymauksboi]

୧ ‧₊˚🍂⋅ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ's ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ

This fic is dedicated to my incredibly talented friend and fellow artist, @starrforge. I had so much fun writing Halsin for Adhara, I hope you enjoy it lovely! (If you ever want me to write anything else for you please feel free to send me requests! ♡)

Word count: 2,845

(NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI.)

Warnings: Hickeys, fingering, pussy eating, p in v sex, creampie, mating season

For so long, all that had occupied Halsin’s mind was the shadow curse, even during his time in the grove being the archdruid, the weight of his past mistakes was a heavy burden that he carried with him for all those years. There was a point in time where the man almost wasn’t sure if he could fix things at all, and perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to if it was not for one person in particular. a stunning young elf that had rescued him from his fate in the warg pens after his capture. Halsin had thought that might have been his demise at one point, he could take on quite a lot in battle, but not a whole camp of goblins.

Adhara and her group of infected travelers had been his saving grace back then, aiding him without question, saving the tiefling refugees. That was the moment Halsin knew he could rely on Adhara and her companions, they needed to get to the heart of the cult, he needed to get to the shadow cursed lands- traveling together would be the best course of action. There had been many trials throughout the coming weeks, the Gith Creche had been a challenge in itself, Halsin had seen the way it had taken a toll on Adhara after. He had wanted to talk, to reassure the sorceress that she had done well, but the woman would have none of it.

She was frustrated that she was pushed around so much, dismissed for being so small, for being so kind. The two ended up having a bit of an argument over this, which had left Halsin feeling quite guilty. He knew that they had a bit of a rocky relationship then, but the druid time and time again proved his loyalty and kindness to Adhara and the others. When they had gotten into the shadow cursed lands, Halsin’s anxiety rose ten fold as did his guilt. He was seeing the destruction and carnage that had been caused and it shattered his heart into a million tiny pieces.

Adhara’s kindness was once again proven when she had selflessly helped him locate Thaniel, had been worried about him just as much as Halsin had been all while she was trying to get through safely to Moonrise Tower. Watching how the storm sorceress fought when it came time had been something Halsin did not think he would have the honor to witness and gods above she was good. So much had happened in just a few months, and every day he could feel himself growing closer to Adhara. Now that the shadow curse had finally been lifted he was free to explore life a little more.

It had been some time since he was able to have any sort of companionship, and although at first Adhara was not fond of him, with their nights spent by the fire talking, comforting one another and laughing together, the archdruid could feel that spark ignite into a flame within him. Perhaps a bit stronger than it should have, considering by now it was Spring- the one time Halsin was not a fan of. Spring meant it was mating season for the bears, and he could feel it even now, that familiar aching in his trousers. Halsin had always been rather good at ignoring his more primal urges, but sitting near the woman he fancied made it incredibly hard to resist her…

Sitting next to the sorceress while the others had gone off to do their own thing for the night left Halsin to his own devices. Now was as good a time as any to confess, he only hoped those feelings may be returned, though even if they were not, he would understand. “You know… i never truly realized how burdened I was, until I met you..” He began albeit a little hesitant at first. “The politics at the grove, the threat of the shadow curse.. I had nearly forgotten who I was.. But you lifted the fog.. Thank you, Adhara.” the man gave her a gentle smile, watching the way her bicoloured eyes lit up with both intrigue and that same compassion he had seen with others. “Of course, you are most welcome, Halsin”

Gods above and below, the way she said his name… He loved it, of course he always had, but right now, it was like the sweetest of melodies, the only thing that could sound better would be her cries of ecstasy when he… Halsin stopped himself, this was not the time to think those horny thoughts. He had to make sure she wanted that before he let his imagination run wild. “I have lived a very long life… Taking on many lovers, my heart does not stir lightly. But it does now, because of you.” Halsin could see the slight flicker of confusion behind her eyes as she asked what he had meant, and a soft chuckle left his lips. “It means I want more than to fight at your side or sit around the campfire with you.”

He paused, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort but when there was none, he knew it was safe to continue. “I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.. If you will have me.” There was another slight pause “If you do not feel the same, tell me so and I will let the matter rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more” Adhara’s cheeks flushed from the confession, her skin blossoming with an adorable pink tink “I.. I want you too. But…” Halsin watched as she paused, growing shy, he could sense her unease and he placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder “You are inexperienced, do not worry. I do not mind teaching you.”

“When the others are sleeping, we will slip away together, but I can assure you, we won’t get much sleep~” He winked, chuckling as he watched that pretty little blush darken before she stammered out a sheepish response and scurried away. Now that he had his confirmation, Halsin slinked off to his tent for a while and let his mind wander. What would Adhara taste like? What would she sound like? He knew her scent well, but the smell of her arousal would be another thing that would drive him wild, he just hoped he could contain himself tonight- the druid did not want to scare her away or harm her if he lost control while mating with her.

An hour or so passed before Halsin emerged from his tent to see nobody was up anymore, and found the storm sorceress standing nearby, causing him to smirk, the aching in his cock growing harder to ignore. Leading Adhara a decent distance away from their camp and into the forest, he hummed softly, leaning her back against a tree, towering over her tiny form. Gods he loved the height difference, he was sure he might break her if he wasn’t careful. “I promise I will be as gentle as I can be, but I must warn you… Sometimes if I let myself get too excited, I cannot control the wild shape… it gets harder around this time too, as it is the mating season for bears.”

Leaning down, Halsin’s breath mingled with Adhara's, her eyes already half closed, though he could still sense her nervousness. “May I kiss you before we begin, my heart..?” The elf nodded and halsin very gently pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and plump, everything he imagined they would be. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the tree, groaning against her lips as he began to grind his hardening cock against her, kissing the woman deeper. After a minute, Halsin pulled away and began to nip at her neck, listening to the gentle whimpers and whines that fell from her lips, her hands gripping his muscular arms tightly as he sucked a decent sized hickey into her skin- it would be hard to hide such a mark, but Halsin did not care. He liked marking what was his.

His fingers slipped under her tunic, silently asking permission to undress her, and after a moment, Adhara nodded. Slowly, the druid removed each article of clothing from her body until she was bare for him, and he kneeled before her, pressing affectionate kisses to her stomach and thighs, thumbs gently tracing over her beautiful scales. “You are so beautiful.. Just as nature intended..” Looking down, he could see the way she trembled with nervous anticipation, the scent of her arousal finally hitting him and for a moment his eyes flashed golden and a deep growl left his lips. He chuckled softly, gently parting her legs so that he could see her better.

“I’m going to devour you…” Halsin could not hold back any longer, his head dipped between her thighs, tongue dragging across her slit before teasingly flicking over her sensitive little bud; ears twitching and perking up when he heard the noise he had been wanting to pull from her. A soft, quiet moan. His cock jumped within their confines, but he remained patient. Halsin was going to make her cum before he even thought about getting himself off inside her. “This may hurt a little my darling, I am… More well endowed than any man I have seen before” Halsin gently guided Adhara to lay on her back within the soft grass, stripping for her- his erection free and standing at attention for her, the sight alone was enough to make her eyes go wide.

Halsin placed himself between her legs dipping his head between her thighs once again, two fingers circling her clit with a little pressure, not too much but enough to pleasure her, while his tongue delved inside her core, lapping up her sweet nectar, feeling the way her walls trembled and clenched around his wiggling appendage. “Let yourself go, cub. I want to watch you come undone for me…” Halsin hummed, removing his fingers from her, wetting one with his saliva before probing at her entrance, his one finger was already quite thick, he’d need to prepare her to be able to take him. “Relax, and if it hurts too much, I will stop.” Halsin began to very slowly insert his finger, leaning down to suck and lick at her clit to soothe any pain and turn it into pleasure- his eyes flashing between their usual brown and their golden hue as he struggled to remain in control.

“Such a good girl Adhara… Taking my finger so well… Hells…” Halsin growled, bearing his fangs a little, the instinct to push her down and bury himself to the hilt before railing her all night long was hard to ignore, the longer he ignored his primal urges the more feral he became. And gods, those whines and whimpers and moans she was giving him did not help either.. “There we go.. You did so well” Halsin praised her, finally having slipped his finger inside her completely. He gave her a few moments to adjust to the stretch before he began to slowly thrust it in and out of her, watching the way her eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open so delightfully. “Fuck…” halsin panted, cock twitching and dripping precum into the grass.

The way Adhara’s face twisted with pain and pleasure had Halsin’s heart beating like a jackrabbit against his chest, she was so beautiful like this. “I’m going to insert a second finger now, little one.” The sorceress gave a slight nod and Halsin pulled his fingers out, lubricating them once again with his saliva and her slick. The druid slowly and carefully pushed his fingers into her core once again, alternating between nipping and sucking hickeys into her thighs and lapping at her clit to pleasure her. He could feel the way her core spasmed around his thick digits and his fingers twitched within her, itching to fuck them into her until she was screaming.

“You are so perfect Adhara…” Halsin curled his fingers inside her, fingertips brushing against that special spot within her that made Adhara’s back arch off the ground, her hands flew to his hair, taking a fistfull of it. That was his undoing. A moan left his lips, and he began to finger her faster now. He was gentle of course, but he was beginning to lose himself in the pleasure of watching Adhara lose her mind. The woman was writhing beneath him, moaning and panting with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes. “That’s it my love… Lose yourself, cum for me..” The command was enough for Adhara to come undone, she cried out his name and came around his fingers.

Growling, Halsin fingered her through her orgasm and when she was thoroughly pleasured he pulled out his fingers, licking up her nectar. His eyes never left Adhara’s trembling form, gently kissing along her body to ease her, allowing the woman to catch her breath before he continued “Such a good girl Adhara… Are you ready for more?” He asked softly. “Y-yes…” Her sheepish voice came out quiet, but sure of herself. Halsin kissed along her neck, inhaling her gentle scent for a moment before lifting her smaller frame into his lap. “Then you shall take all of me~” The druid used his free hand to spread his precum along his shaft, shuddering a little as he positioned Adhara over him.

Groaning loudly, Halsin pushed himself carefully inside her core, biting into her shoulder a little as he felt her heat wrap tightly around him. Adhara’s cries filled the air around him as he took complete control, her legs over his arms with hers wrapped around his neck. “Keep your eyes on me, my heart. I will take good care of you” Adhara nodded and Halsin carefully pushed himself inside of her inch by inch, his eyes glowing that beautiful golden colour. “Good gods… You feel so good wrapped around me…” Halsin groaned, a growl leaving his lips. Adhara’s walls fluttered around his cock the further in he pushed, whimpering in delight at the sensations that coursed through her, alighting every nerve ending on fire until he was fully seated within her, the head of his cock so deep inside that it was kissing the entrance to her womb.

Halsin angled his hips a little, thrusting in and out of her. The lewd sound of skin against skin surrounded them, his pointed ears twitching in delight as Adhara’s moaning grew louder and louder. Before she even announced it, Halsin could feel the way her walls tightened and fluttered around him. She felt so damn good, he was losing his own ability to think straight, the only thing on his mind was the need to breed her. “H-Halsin… G-gonna cum soon-” The druid gave a wicked grin, thrusting faster and deeper “Good girl, taking my cock so well… I’m going to fill you so full of my seed you’ll have my cubs in no time~”

His teeth gently sank into her neck once again, sucking at her delicate skin as he thrust into her at an almost brutal pace, losing control- the need to mate with Adhara taking over. Halsin could feel his climax rapidly approaching, groaning against the woman's neck “Cum for me, Adhara…” He commanded, thrusting furiously into her, feeling her tense. His eyes never left the way her face contorted with pleasure, her mouth hanging open in an attractive little ‘o’ shape, her stunning voice calling out his name as she came hard around him.

That was his tipping point, Halsin’s hips stuttered, thrusts growing sloppy as his seed splashed against her womb. Halsin shuddered, keeping her sat in his lap and watching the way his cum slowly dripped from her; he had filled her well. “I love you, my heart” Halsin smiled softly, pulling the woman in for a gentle kiss, rubbing her hips with his thumbs to soothe her. The poor thing would likely be quite sore come morning, but he would take good care of her. Halsin pulled out of her after a few minutes, allowing her to rest against his chest, stroking her hair and tucking a few strands behind her ear. His arms gently wrapped around the woman as he kissed her head. “Rest now, my love. You deserve it”

Halsin had taken many lovers over the years, he had many trysts. But never in his long life had he ever felt so complete. Never in his life had he felt so loved by another being. His gaze shifted towards the twinkling stars above them as he felt Adhara’s breathing even out and she fell asleep comfortably against his chest. A small smile graced his lips, and he silently sent his thanks to Silvanus for blessing him with this woman.

This had truly been the most perfect evening, all because of one special woman that had stolen his heart.

[1arkspur-aconitum]

DEAD AND GONE (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART TWO OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer apologises for his reaction to finding out her previous profession, then has a very curious request...

PAIRING: Season3!SpencerReid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: Comfort, fluff

CONTENT: swearing, classic BAU violence, established secret relationship, Spencer being awkward (as usual), very brief discussions of drug and alcohol addiction, discussions of death of a former lover, suggestive themes (16+)

WORD COUNT: 6k

PUBLISHED: 16/10/2024

I BARELY SPEAK TO him the next day.

In fact, I think I said a grand total of three words to him–nothing more than required, nothing at all like our usual long, babbling conversations. No, I avoided him ferociously, like he’s a rat and it’s 1348 in London.

Thankfully for me, Hotch put me with Emily out in the field rather than doing the geographical profile with Spencer. I wonder if Derek spoke to Hotch, but that might be doing Aaron Hotchner a disservice. He is a master profiler, afterall.

Spencer knocked on my door last night, not long after I had fled the bar, but I didn’t open it. I couldn’t. His words hounded me into what meagre sleep I could manage, pounding through my head as I took a shower, bruising into that soft spot in the centre of my chest I reserved only for him. All I could hear since he uttered it was him calling me disgusting. 

I know that I should try my best to get over it. Should focus on solving the case rather than on what my boyfriend thinks of my past. Emily spent a considerable chunk of time trying to reassure me that there is nothing for me to be ashamed of, but I don’t know anymore. The way he said it, spat it, still has its claws deep within my self doubt.

Coming from anyone else, I might’ve been able to brush it off, but coming from Spencer, the one person I thought would never judge me, would never hurt me? It’s proving harder to handle.

Spencer, to his credit, gives me my space. He doesn’t try to talk to me any more than necessary, doesn’t corner me somewhere to demand a conversation. Yet I do feel his eyes on me more than anyone else’s.

He watches me with that annoying carefully guarded expression, as if I might break at any moment. It’s patronising and, quite frankly, very annoying. I’m not made of glass. I have had worse things said to me, it’s not like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces because he said some harsh words that he didn’t mean.

Or, at least, I hope he didn’t mean. 

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. That annoying voice in my head chases me throughout the day, clamouring for my attention along with the words Spencer uttered. It’s safe to say I wasn’t fully there. 

It was ultimately JJ who solved the case. She was the one who found out about the janitor that had been making his way up and down the strip of clubs, the one who encouraged Garcia to dig deeper into his history when the surface layer looked boring. 

In fact, JJ was also the one who apprehended the guy. Part of me feels guilty for not being the one to solve it, another part even guiltier for letting Spencer’s words have such an affect on my deduction skills, but the happy looks on Tia and Jas’ faces as they embraced my colleague in thanks was enough to lift my concerns.

We all agreed that we would go out for drinks tomorrow night, leaving us all one night to recover in our hotel rooms from such an intense order of business. I’m secretly very grateful. It gives me some time to wallow in my own self-pity, eating Oreos and watching whatever crap I can find on the tiny TV in my hotel room. Nothing a good cry can’t sort out. 

I’m propped up on the pillows not long after we left the police station, having politely refused the offer of a drink from Derek, and escaping. I don’t want a pity drink.

The TV flickers with something I am decidedly not paying attention to, crumbs littering the bed. Oreos are usually a cure-all for me, but today they’re not having the desired effect. Nothing seems to be making me feel any better.

This sucks. I knew this case would be rough, but I didn’t think it would be rough for these reasons. I expected the teasing, I expected being blasted with questions, but nothing could have prepared me for the way Spencer called me disgusting. Called me a hooker when I know that he knows damn well what the difference is. I didn’t realise how much I craved Spencer’s approval until he pulled it away from me like a rug from under my feet. 

I wonder if I should go and talk to him, but I don’t particularly want to. All I want is to stay here in my cocoon of sadness until it tires me out enough that I fall asleep.

I am just about to get up to make myself a hot chocolate, hoping that warm milk will encourage me to pass out so I can stop thinking about the way Spencer looked when he spat those words at me, when there is a knock on my door. 

I choose to ignore it, hoping that whoever it is will just go away. I sink  further into my bed covers and reach for another Oreo. The packet is empty. What a travesty. 

The knocking continues. It gets louder, more insistent, until I have no choice but to groan loudly and clamber out of bed. I stomp to the door. It’s safe to say I’m royally pissed off. All I want is to lounge around and be sad, but no matter what, whoever is on the other side of the door is almost guaranteed not to let me. 

I yank the door open, fully prepared to give whoever is on the other side a piece of my mind, but the words die on my tongue when I see who it is. Spencer stands in the hallway, looking adorable in his shirt and tie, hands tucked behind his back. He’s wearing his glasses, too. It’s as if he knows how much they affect me. 

‘June–’ he starts, but I cut him off.

‘What do you want, Spencer?’ My voice is cold, flat, mimicking the way he spoke to me not 24 hours earlier. I don’t really want to talk to him, not when it’s him who has forced me to do so. 

‘I…can I come in?’ He asks, glancing nervously down the corridor. 

‘No.’ The word is bland, disinterested. I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at him with as much hurt I can muster. I’m doing my best to ignore the way my heart is pounding against my ribs. I shouldn’t be affected by him, not when he’s said those things to me, but I am. I hate that I am. It’s Spencer, though, so of course I am affected by him. ‘I don’t really want to talk to you right now.’

‘Please..?’ Spencer sounds so pathetic, looks so earnest, that I find my facade crumbling just a smidge. ‘I just want five minutes. That’s all.’

I debate for a few seconds. ‘Fine. Whatever.’

I turn sharply on my heel and stalk back into my room, not caring to see if he follows. He does, and closes the door behind him softly. He’s usually always so tender. I flop onto the pillows and pick up the empty Oreo packet, glaring at it as if it’s the cause of all my problems. The silence is tense. Heavy. I glance at him expectantly. 

Spencer is standing awkwardly at the end of my bed, wringing his hands together as he looks anywhere but at me. I can tell that he’s nervous, but I don’t know why. I’m the one who should be nervous. He was the one who decided to be cruel, to say those words to me, and yet here he is, acting as if I’m the one who hurt him. To tell you the truth, it pisses me off a little. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He blurts the words out, barely more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. When I look up at him, surprised, I find him already watching me. Those beautiful brown eyes of his are completely unguarded this time, as vast and deep as an ocean. ‘I’m sorry for saying what I said last night. It was stupid, and mean, and I don’t know why I said them because I didn’t even mean them.’

‘You didn’t mean them?’ I repeat, measured voice laced with disbelief. It’s not as firm as I would like it to be, though. ‘You sounded pretty convincing when you said them, Spence.’

‘I know, I know I did, and I’m sorry.’ Spencer’s eyes swim with remorse, and he takes a tentative step towards me. I don’t move, body frozen as I listen to what he’s trying to tell me. ‘I was…I don’t know, I was angry. I lashed out and said things to make you angry, too. For that, I’m sorry.’

I pause, weighing up his words, and swing my legs off of the edge of the bed. I gaze up at him, head cocked. He’s confusing me more than usual. He seems genuine, standing there with his open expression, his nervous hands, but I still can’t shake the feeling that he was also genuine last night. 

‘Being angry doesn’t excuse the way you spoke to me, Spencer.’ I choose my words carefully, letting him see the furrow of my brow. ‘It doesn’t wash away the fact that you called me hooker in front of our friends, or the fact that you called me disgusting. It doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.’

‘It’s not–I’m not trying to make excuses.’ Spencer flinches, before he carefully drops onto his knees on the carpet before me. He looks up at me and I can tell he wants to touch me. A hand reaches out, thinks better about it, and falls into his lap. ‘I’m just trying to explain. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.’

‘Then why did you say it?’ I sigh, running a hand through my hair. My words are meek, exposed as a cliff to a crashing shore.

‘I told you. I was angry.’ Spencer sits back on his haunches, copying my motion. His hair is pushed away like Prince Charming yet again, his eyes so wide underneath the thick lenses of his glasses. It’s almost as if he’s intentionally making this difficult for me.

‘Why? Because I used to be a stripper? Because, like I said last night, it was my old life, and I don’t regret it–’

‘No–no, it’s…’ Spencer hesitates, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand before looking down at his lap. His mouth twists in discomfort. ‘It wasn’t because of that, not really. It was–’

‘It was what?’ I encourage, leaning forward slightly. Most of the malice has dropped out of my voice, and I’m now trying to make him feel comfortable enough to continue talking.

‘It was because you didn’t tell me.’ He says finally, looking me dead in the eye. ‘And then, you sounded so…so happy when you were telling the others about it that it…it upset me.’

‘It upset you?’ I repeat, brow furrowing. I’m even more confused than before, but at least the anger has ebbed away. We’re having a discussion about it, and that’s probably for the best. The last thing I want to do is lose Spencer. ‘I don’t understand. Why would that upset you?’

He looks away from me, chewing the inside of his cheek, his hands working furiously together in front of him. I reach out and let my fingers brush against the back of his knuckles. When he looks back at me, I try to look as open and receptive as I can. This is a safe space for him. I won’t judge him. 

‘Because…well, because I thought you trusted me.’ His voice is so soft, so vulnerable, that it damn near breaks my heart. I offer him the palm of my hand in the space between us. He takes it. This physical contact seems to give him the courage he needs to keep talking. ‘I thought we were getting closer, and then you drop this bombshell on me in front of everyone, and it felt like…like you were keeping something hidden from me.’

‘I…I wasn’t trying to keep something hidden from you, Spence.’ I feel a pang of guilt. I can see how he might think that–after all, it’s not like I didn’t have a couple of opportunities to tell him before we stepped foot in the strip club. ‘It’s just…it’s complicated. That was a really weird time of my life, and a lot was going on.’

‘Like what?’ He asks, squeezing my hand gently. His thumb traces soothing circles on my palm. It sends a familiar warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach, a stark contrast to the coldness I felt last night. ‘I want to understand. Please.’

‘Alright.’ I sigh, and pat the bed next to me. ‘Get up here. I don’t want you to hurt your knees and we might be here for a while.’

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. He clambers up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of me. Our knees bump together and he shyly pulls both of my hands into his lap. His cold fingers start to fiddle with my own as he waits expectantly for me to start talking.

My heart twinges in a mixture of adoration and fear. What I am about to tell him is a lot, and if he was mad about me ‘hiding’ the stripping thing, then this might be what breaks him.

But I shall tell him. And I’ll tell him all of it. 

‘Okay. Okay.’ I take a deep breath and shake my shoulders loose. Spencer’s eyes are locked onto me, patient, waiting. I’m so nervous that I’m sure he can feel my hands shaking between his. Spencer gives me an encouraging nod. ‘So…so I started dancing for a specific reason. In fact, I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done–would never have considered doing–because of, of this reason. Um. God.’

‘It’s alright. I promise I won’t judge you–not like yesterday.’ Spencer’s voice is softer than I deserve. 

‘I had a fiancé.’ The words tumble out of my mouth and fall into the space around us.

The room is deathly silent. I’m not sure either of us are breathing. I can’t bring myself to look at him, not wanting to see how he’s taking the news. What I do know is that his hands around mine stop fiddling. I rub my lips together and then the words don’t stop. 

‘I met Jay when I was doing my first undergrad, the Classical History one, and we…clicked. He and I moved in together whilst I was doing my Cornell degree, after five years. He proposed not long after that. We were to be married once I graduated.

‘Uh…I kinda assumed that would be it for me, y’know. One true love. But…well, not everything works out the way you think it will.’ I say, looking up at him to find him staring at me, those brown eyes stained with that confusion and hurt I saw yesterday. I have to keep going, have to get the words out. ‘I know. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?’

‘What happened?’ Spencer’s voice is quiet, but surprisingly steady, his shoulders a firm line. He’s gripping my hands so tightly that it hurts, but I don’t mind. We both need the physical contact. 

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. What I’m about to relive. 

‘He died.’ 

It’s raw. Harsh, the words grating against the back of my throat. 

‘I came home one day from a lecture and…and someone had broken in. Trashed the place. I found…I found Jay in the bedroom.’ I stare down at the bedspread, not seeing the bland hotel pattern but the lifeless form of my old lover. ‘Someone had…he was shot. There was nothing I could have done.’

‘Oh, June…’ Spencer’s voice is so thick with sympathy that I could chew it. He squeezes my hands and I finally look up at him. His eyes are lined with silver. He looks as heartbroken as I feel, as if he’s feeling the pain as acutely as I am. I have to look away. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It–it was a long time ago.’ I force a smile onto my face, but it’s brittle. Likely to snap at any moment. ‘After that, everything broke down. I left Cornell–I couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t live in that same apartment–and went to New York. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost and alone and I just…didn’t want to feel that pain anymore.’

‘So you started dancing.’ Spencer’s tone is laden with understanding, so impossibly gentle. He looks at me with his characteristically kind eyes and I can tell that he regrets everything he said. Part of me forgives him then and there. I nod, trying not to let the tears fall. ‘It was a way to escape.’

‘Exactly.’ I whisper, voice barely audible. I hate the way it quivers. ‘Amongst other stuff. I started taking drugs–I mean, I’d smoked weed and shit before, but after Jay it was like I didn’t care. I slept with random people. Started working as a stripper. I was spiralling. I lost myself in other people, other things, until I didn’t have to think about what happened. It worked. For a while.’

‘But not forever.’ Spencer finishes my sentence for me, intertwining our fingers. He’s looking at me differently now, as if he’s just realised something that makes him view me in a different light. Considering that he’s not letting go of my hands, I have to hope that it is a good thing. ‘And that’s why you slept with that guy, the regular.’

‘Yes.’ I confirm, hating the shame that creeps up my neck. I don’t want to hide anything from Spencer any more, though. There’s been enough hiding. ‘I slept with him because, for a brief moment, he made me feel something other than grief. It wasn’t real. It was simply filling a void. God, I was a mess back then.’

‘So…what made you stop?’ 

‘My mother.’ I half-laugh, blinking back tears and rolling my eyes at him. ‘Who else? She heard about what was happening from Tia–I still haven’t fully forgiven T for that, by the way–and essentially kidnapped me.’

Spencer chuckles, but it’s not fully humorous. ‘She…she kidnapped you?’

‘Yeah, she did. She lives in this commune in Illinois–fully self-sufficient and a massive bunch of hippies.’ I say the words with so much love that it brightens every syllable. ‘The commune saved my life. They helped me process Jay, get off the drugs I was on, taught me better coping skills. Encouraged me to complete my degree. I haven’t looked back since.’

‘And you don’t regret it?’ Spencer asks, thumbs now tracing gentle, casual circles on the softest part of my wrists. It warms my chest. ‘You don’t regret what you did, or what you had to do to get through it?’

‘No, Spence, I don’t.’ I smile at him, the action finally reaching my eyes. ‘I mean, I wish I’d done some things differently, but I don’t regret it. I loved dancing. I learnt a lot about myself and made some excellent friends. Yeah, the circumstances were shitty, but I wouldn’t trade in all the good times for a few bad ones.’

Spencer regards me for a long time, his eyes searching mine, scouring my face. I let him see everything. I don’t hold anything back, letting myself be an open book for him to read. I let him peer into the darkest parts of me without fear. Without qualms. This is me. I have nothing to hide from him anymore. He can take it or leave it. 

He lets out a long, shaking breath. 

‘Thank you…for telling me.’ He says, angling his head as he continues to inspect me. Spencer pauses, shifting so his elbows are on his knees. Our interlocked hands drop into my lap. I could lean in and kiss him if I wanted to. But I won’t. ‘I should have known…I just…I just got so jealous when I heard you talking about it that I couldn’t think anymore. I really should have known better. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s alright, Spence.’ I offer him a reassuring smile, feeling a crushing weight lift off of my chest. I lift our hands and press a careful kiss to the back of his. ‘I understand why you reacted the way you did. It was a lot to take in.’

‘It was.’ He admits, gaze softening with a small smile. ‘But I’m glad you told me. I want to learn everything about you. Even the most difficult parts. Actually, especially those parts.’

‘Oh, really?’ I say, my tone laden with teasing. ‘Especially the most difficult parts?’

‘Well, I’m not sure I like the way you’re saying that,’ Spencer says warily, but my broad smile is infectious and soon he’s grinning at me. ‘But yes.’

‘Don’t worry, I think I’ve just told you the worst of it.’ I laugh, pulling one of my hands free to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. His skin is so hot it’s nearly feverish. He leans into my touch, pursing his lips slightly. ‘And don’t you dare get hung up on the word ‘think’, Spencer. I know you. If something else comes to me, I’ll tell you, alright?’

‘Alright.’ Spencer agrees, his voice soft. It’s clear we’re both done arguing. 

I smile gently and slowly start to clamber into his lap. I take my time, not wanting to rush him, and giving him plenty of opportunities to push me away. He doesn’t. In fact, his hands drop to my hips and tug me closer. Once I’m settled, I spot how his eyes flicker from mine to my mouth and away. He looks as if he wants to say something, so I wait, curling my fingers in the fine hairs at the back of his neck. 

‘I…I have a question.’ 

‘Alright. Ask away.’ I raise a curious eyebrow, my heart pounding so hard against my ribcage that I’m pretty sure he can feel it too. I have no idea what he’s going to ask, but I am ready for anything. I’ve already laid my soul bare to him, there isn’t anything more to hide. I wonder if this apprehension is what Prometheus feels when he hears the eagle’s wings. 

‘Do you…I mean, would you ever…’ He turns bright red, as if he’s embarrassed by the question he’s attempting to ask me. Spencer looks down at the space between us, his hair tickling my chin as he rests the crown of his head against my collar. I wait patiently and rub soothing circles into his back. ‘Would you dance for, for me?’

‘Dance for you?’ I repeat his question. I cup his cheeks and gently pull him away from where he’s hiding, forcing him to look at me and see that I am not laughing at him. That I don’t find the request funny, or humiliating. ‘You mean, like how I would in Elysium?’

‘Yes.’ Spencer nods, voice firmer now when he sees there is no sign of distaste or disapproval in my eyes. He looks so vulnerable, so open, that it melts my heart. 

Affection floods through me. I want to show him that I am not ashamed of my past, that I am willing to share something that brings me so much joy. Even though dancing is laden with the Jay thing, the drugs thing, I still love it. It’s freeing and a massive boost of confidence, and if Spencer wants to witness me doing that, then who am I to deny him.

‘Why, of course, Spencer.’ I smile, smoothing a thumb under his eye. His eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. Spencer leans forward and presses a tentative kiss to my lips. It’s chaste but still sends a shiver down my spine. ‘I would be honoured. You just have to let me make some calls first, alright?’

This will be fun…

Elysium isn’t too busy when we arrive, which I take as a good sign. There are a few regulars dotted about in individual booths, scantily clad women meandering through them, dishing out lap dances where requested.

Familiar pop songs blare through the speakers as two girls dance on the stage, a bed of green money laid out on the floor for them. It’s smoky, heady, and it might be my own anticipation, but it feels as if the whole space thrums with energy.

The music threatens to break through my skin, the bass reverberating through my skeleton. It feels good to be back.

I make my way towards the bar, pulling Spencer along behind me. We were chatting on the way here, but the closer we got to Elysium the more apprehensive he became. Spencer doesn’t talk much when he’s nervous.

I’ve been trying to loosen him up, but all I can really do is hope that it’s a good nervous, an excited nervous, rather than an ‘oh my god what am I doing’ nervous. I don’t think Spencer has ever had someone strip for him like this before.

No pressure or anything, June. It’s not like he’ll forget it. 

‘Alright,’ I say, encouraging him to sit on a stool near the bar. He has a slightly panicked look in his eye, unsure where he’s allowed to rest his eyes. Andrea leans casually against the surface, her large breasts almost spilling out of her tiny bra, a bemused look on her face. I smile warmly at her and she raises a hand in greeting. I turn back to Spencer who is staring at his lap. ‘Can you order us both a drink?’

‘You’re leaving?’ Spencer says, jerking his head up to look me in the eye. 

I laugh and step between his knees, carding my fingers through his long hair. ‘Yes, but not long. I’ve gotta go get changed, but I will come back for you soon. Is that alright?’

‘I…I can’t come with you?’ He says meekly, fingers digging into the backs of my thighs.

‘No, not backstage, sweetheart.’ I try to keep the humour out of my voice. It’s sweet that he doesn’t want me to leave him, but I have to. ‘I promise I won’t be long, alright.’

‘You promise?’ 

‘Yes, Spence, I promise.’ I kiss him softly on the lips, careful not to smudge any of my lipstick, still smiling into his mouth. He’s impossibly on edge. Hopefully a drink will ease the tension. ‘Just relax, order a drink, and I’ll be back before you know it.’

I squeeze his thigh gently before pushing away from him, nodding once at Andrea. She and I have known each other for a while–not as long as I’ve known Tia and Jas, but long enough that I know she’ll take care of Spencer without shoving his face in her tits. Or without letting other people shove his face in their tits. 

Carefully, I pick my way around the edge of the room, headed towards the backstage doors, where I can see Jas talking with a stripper I don’t recognise. Jas is dressed in silver today, a slinky number that sticks to her curves and accentuates the long legs I’ve always been so jealous of. As I walk, a duffle bag bumps against my hips. 

‘Junebug!’ Jas grins, spotting me. She grabs me by the shoulders, glancing over my shoulder to where I’m sure a still dazed and confused-looking Spencer is sitting. Her face tightens. ‘Tia said you’d called–I am so sorry, by the way, if I had known, I wouldn’t’ve–’

‘It’s alright, Jas.’ I laugh, brushing her hair from her shoulder. She seems genuinely apologetic. ‘The team doesn't know, otherwise I would’ve stopped you before you made him blush as much as you did.’

She throws her head back and laughs, taking my arm and leading me through another secret door. ‘I suppose it’s your turn to make him blush now, Junie.’

These corridors are familiar, painfully so–I got so drunk I nearly threw up in that storage closet over there, I smoked a bowl with Tia in that dressing room, did a line of cocaine off Jas’ breasts in that one. They hold the memories of the me I never thought I would become, the me I never thought I would escape. With every step I take, I wonder what it would take to tip me back into that person. 

‘Alright, here, you can use my dressing room.’ Jas stops at her door and pushes it open. ‘Tia’s with a client right now, but she should be done in about fiveish mins, so you can find her afterwards. She’s got the key.’

‘Perfect, thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it’s kinda last minute.’ I smile, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. ‘And the team are still down for drinks tomorrow, by the way, if you guys are. If you need me to sweet talk Harold, I can try.’

‘It’s all worked out already, I think Amy and Beth are coming as well, so should be fun!’ Jasmine reciprocates, pressing a kiss to my cheek before pushing me into her room. ‘Now, hurry up, you’ve got a doctor to knock the socks off of–what are you gonna wear?’

I tug her in after me with an eye roll. Of course she wants to know all the little details.

Jas’s changing room is sparsely furnished aside from a plush armchair angled in the corner–it’s the same one we once both managed to fit on, sharing a spliff and laughing as Tia reenacted a particularly interesting lap dance she performed. A table is pressed up against the wall, the edges of it as chipped as the mirror propped up on top. A few polaroid pictures have been stuck to the frame, and I can see my own face beaming out at me. 

‘Give me your phone.’ Jas says, and I oblige her, busy rummaging around in the duffle bag. Soon after, the sound of my playlist starts to hum through the room. It’s soft, trance-like, and alluring. The music I always prefer to dance to. ‘Alright, show me what you’re gonna wear.’

When I turn around to show her the lingerie set in my hands, she’s sprawled out on that armchair, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her eyes widen and she just nods at me with delight. 

‘I’m kinda nervous.’ I admit, not caring if Jas sees me naked. I strip off my current clothes and start to put on the lingerie. It’s new, so Spencer hasn’t seen it before–in fact, I bought it specifically for him, in the hopes that we might be able to make use of it on this case. It’s dark green, skimpy, and covered in embroidered lace and beads. It leaves very little to the imagination.

‘Really?’ Jas asks, popping a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. ‘Why?’

‘I mean, I haven’t danced for someone else in a very long time.’ I murmur, straightening the tiny bra so that it properly accents my boobs. It’s not as if I don’t remember how to do it, I’ve been taking pole classes intermittently in Virginia, when our schedule allows. ‘And I’ve never danced for someone I actually care about.’

‘Aw, you’re adorable.’ Jas gushes, blowing a bubble. ‘You’ll be fine–you look gorgeous, by the way. Do you need to borrow some heels?’

‘Please.’ I laugh sheepishly. ‘They’re not exactly something I pack for a case.’

Jas unfurls herself from the chair and heads to the only other piece of furniture in the tiny room. It’s the infamous wardrobe–Jas keeps every outfit she’s ever worn on site, and works kind of like the inhouse dry cleaners. Everything is available as long as you can fit into it, and as long as you give it back. It saved my life many times. 

‘Oo, black, please.’ I call over to her as I slip into a small, black slip dress that I’ll wear until we get to the private room. It makes the lingerie more special, I think, if he doesn’t get to see it right away. 

‘Here you go.’ She grins, passing me a pair of classic black stiletto stripper heels. They shine in the soft light, and I can see that the material is littered with sparkles. Simple enough for what I know Jas has in that wardrobe, and they make my legs look a mile long when I try them on. ‘Perfect. You look gorgeous. Come on, now, get out there and show the doctor what you can do!’

‘Alright, alright!’ I laugh, grabbing my phone quickly before she wrestles me out of the door. I’m leaving the bag here. I give her a quick, grateful hug as she hurries me out of the door and back into the main part of Elysium. 

As I step out of the backstage area, I start to hum along to the music, letting the sound of it start to move my body in a way I haven’t done in a while. Teasing, sultry, a slight warm up for what is about to happen. Jas smacks my arse quickly and wiggles her fingers in a goodbye. I watch as she disappears amongst the crowd, searching for someone to wring dry. The bass makes the floor shake, as familiar as an earthquake. 

I spot Spencer at the bar, looking as out of place as he ever has. He sits exactly where I left him, but this time he’s nursing a large drink, my own still sitting on the bar. One leg is crossed over the other, and he keeps his eyes resolutely on the glass in his hand. He looks so adorable in his glasses, in his shirt and tie, so awkward, that my heart swells a little. This is the last place Dr. Reid would ever be found in, and yet here he is. 

He’ll get over it. I reassure myself, smoothing slightly clammy hands down my dress. God, I’m actually really worried about this. My heart pounds an unsteady rhythm against my ribcage, sweat sticking my thighs together. He’s going to remember every single second, so it has to be good. I’m probably just freaking myself out more with that thought.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and start to walk towards him. I do it lazily, seductively, allowing myself to fall into the stripper mindset. The small slip dress barely brushes the swell of my thighs, showing off a hint of the garter I’m wearing. Spencer spots me almost immediately and his whole body tenses. 

He likes the dress, that much is obvious. His mouth parts as his hungry eyes scour every inch. The low neckline, the short hem, and the slight sheerness of the fabric means that when the lights wash over me, he can see a sneak peak of what’s to come. Spencer swallows hard, unable to stop staring as I approach, absentmindedly putting his glass down on the bar.

‘Hey, handsome.’ I smile, stepping between his legs and running my hands over his smooth hair. He still has his glasses on, which makes him look even more awkward. His hands wrap around the back of my thighs, callused hands against bare skin. 

‘Hey.’ He murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. He blinks a couple of times in rapid succession, like he does when he’s thinking really hard. A permanent blush brightens his cheekbones. ‘You look…beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ I smile at him, biting my lip. His eyes are drawn to movement, lips slightly parted. There’s still a tension in his shoulders that I want him to lose. I want him to enjoy this, after all. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Terrified.’ 

‘Aw, sweetheart, that’s not what I want to hear.’ I say gently, leaning down and pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks. His skin is red hot. ‘Can I ask why? Is it me?’

‘What? No, it’s not you.’ Spencer says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls one of my hands out of his hair to press a kiss to the palm of it, the most tender thing he has done for me in a while. A familiar warmth pools in the pit of my stomach. ‘You’re the only thing keeping me here. I’m just…I’ve never done this before.’

‘I know.’ I say softly, a slight smile turning the corners of my lips. ‘Funnily enough, Spence, it doesn’t surprise me that you’ve never done this before. I would be more concerned if you had.’

‘No, I mean–I don’t know. I just feel so out of place.’ He flushes and leans in closer, as if he’s worried that he’ll be overheard. His next words are a hiss. ‘When I…when I asked if you would dance for me, I meant back in the hotel.’

‘We can go back if you want, Spencer,’ I sigh, tilting his face up to mine and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Spencer is soft, pliant, and grips the back of my thighs tighter. ‘But, if you want me to dance for you, then I want to do it right. And the only way I can do that is here. Look, why don’t we just go to the private room, you might feel more comfortable there.’

He thinks it over for a couple of seconds, fingers secretly brushing up the backs of my thighs. I resist the urge to shiver at the action, fearing that any movement might scare him off. I wait patiently. We have time. Eventually, Spencer grips my hips with his big hands and nods. He’ll do it. 

Victorious, I pick up our drinks and encourage Spencer to stand. He doesn’t let go of my waist as I lead him through the crowd, headed towards where I can see Tia. I kind of like him like this. Dependent. Clinging to me as if he’s worried I’ll slip out of his grasp and vanish. 

Tia grins at us as we approach. She’s dressed in a shimmering gold number that matches Jas’, sticking to all the right places. Her long dreads are piled atop her head in a messy bun, a few stray strands framing her gorgeous face. She leans casually against the wall next to the door that has the PRIVATE neon sign above it, a mischievous glint in her eye.

‘Well, well, Junebug, look at you.’ She gives me an appreciative look, and I bask a little in it, showing off the heels. Tia then turns her attention onto Spencer, a bemused look on her face. ‘I should have known, honestly. From the moment I saw you, I was like she’s gonna be all over you. June here’s always had a type.’

I laugh, watching Spencer look sheepishly at Tia. His cheeks are a deep crimson, and he keeps glancing down at his feet, as if he’ll be told off for looking too long. ‘You’re not wrong, T. You’re not wrong. To his credit, this one took a little bit of convincing.’

‘Somehow, I don’t believe that. June always went for the pretty boys.’ Tia steps up to Spencer, smooths a hand across one of his shoulders. Spencer tenses, the hand on my hip tightening. He looks up, eyes darting between us, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension and what I hope is pride. I laugh again through a sip of my drink. Spencer swallows. ‘And let me tell you, they always went for her.’

‘Alright, alright, don’t tease him.’ I pout, rolling my eyes at her behind Spencer’s back. I’ve only just got him to relax, I don’t want her to rile him up again. She’s always like that, though. She gives me an apologetic look and quickly takes her hand off of my boyfriend. My heart calms briefly. ‘Can we have room three? That’s still the one with the big sofa, right?’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Tia nods, using a key around her neck to unlock the PRIVATE door. It opens onto a corridor lined with black doors, each with a small, circular window covered by a blind. Small lights at the top shine red or green to show availability. Most show red. She leads the way, and I take Spencer’s hand in mine, pulling him along behind me. ‘That’s always been your favourite, hasn’t it?’

‘I think I just like the sofa, honestly.’ I grin, glancing over my shoulder at Spencer. I am very pleased to see that his eyes are on my arse as I walk ahead of him. When he realises I’m watching him, his cheeks get even redder if that’s possible. I squeeze his hand to reassure him. He’s allowed to look at my arse, and I know that he knows that, I think the environment makes him think that he can’t. ‘Plus, I always used room three.’

‘I know, I never use it anymore because it makes me think of you.’ Tia says, stopping in front of the aforementioned room. She unlocks it with a flourish and pushes the door wide to let us in. I lead Spencer inside, Tia giving him a once-over as he shuffles past her. She winks at me before addressing him. ‘Good luck, Spencer. You’re gonna need it.’

‘Oh, I already know that…’ Spencer smiles shyly at her. 

Tia sketches a mock bow to us before tossing me the key and closing the door. 

Game time.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART THREE CAN BE FOUND HERE.

[emsdevs]

No Matter the Distance

Noah and Mateo AU

a/n: This idea randomly came to me, and I had to get it out. I'm sorry in advance for any pain this may cause to any lovers of the twins. The next part will be happier! Also, I will be putting out the timeline soon (masterlist form), but for reference, this takes place when the boys are about three and a half.

masterlist | Oh Darling AU Masterlist

The boys had been extra quiet since Nico left with the team for a roadie this morning. Usually, they would have worked past the initial sadness by now, but their voices hadn’t gotten any louder like they usually would be. You decide to cut up some fruit with their sandwiches for lunch, knowing that seeing the mix of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas on their plates always gets them a little extra excited. When you finish, you call them into the kitchen and then watch as they pull themselves up onto the chairs that are still just a little too tall for them. 

“Tank you, Mama,” Mateo tells you in a tone that usually only Noah would use when he’s feeling extra shy. Your worry increases after hearing his words and seeing the disheartened look on Noah’s face.

“Baby, is there something on your mind?” you question Mateo, the worry evident on your face.

“‘M fine, Mama,” he uses that same tone again, and even though you know he’s holding back, you decide not to push either of the boys on the subject. They eat their lunches quietly after that, not making much noise. When they finish, they whisper to you that they enjoyed their food before returning to their playroom, still rather silent.

You spend the rest of the cleaning and periodically checking on Noah and Mateo, trying to find an outlet to get the worry out. Soon, Nico called to check in, and though you didn’t want to worry him while he was away, you told him about the boys’ weird behavior.

“Ängeli, I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they just aren’t feeling well right now. You know Curtis’s kids got sick just a couple of days after they had that playdate with the boys,” Nico was quick to reassure you.

“You’re right, Neeks. I’m probably just overthinking. I just worry about them sometimes.”

“It’s fine, baby. Now, tell me about you. I wanna hear how my wife is doing.” You giggle before telling Nico about your day, the worry already gone from your mind. You talked to your husband for a while longer until you had to hang up to put the boys to bed. You helped them with their baths, helped them into their favorite jammies, and finally got them into their respective beds. You were sitting on the edge of Noah’s bed, getting ready to kiss his forehead and go tell Mateo goodnight in the same manner, when he asked a question that made your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Mama? Does Papa still wuv us?” his voice is tiny, and it breaks you a little more. Mateo crawls into bed with his brother, clearly having the same thought.

“Of course he does, baby. Why would your Papa not love the two of you?” you’re fighting to hold back tears.

“He weaves us a wot,” Mateo shrugs his little shoulders, and he’s using that small, shy voice again.

“Oh, my sweet boys. Your Papa loves you both so so so much! It hurts him so much when he has to leave you both. You’re the lights of his life, both of us would be lost without you two, I promise. Please, don’t ever doubt that your Papa loves you. Or me, for that matter. We love you two more than either of you could ever imagine,” you’re crying at this point, but you don’t really care.

“You wuv us bigger than Juper?” Mateo was in a space phase, and just a few days ago learned that Jupiter was the biggest planet. Apparently, that was the biggest thing his little brain could think of.

“Yes, baby. Wayyyy bigger than Jupiter!” you drag out the word, reaching forward to tickle Mateo’s side. “And wayyyy bigger than a brachiosaurus!” you dragged out the word for Noah now, who was in a dinosaur phase, and began to tickle him as well.

“Otay, Mama!! No mo’ tickles!” it warmed your heart to hear Noah raise his voice a little.

“Yeah, Mama! No mo’ tickles!” Mateo was giggling too, finally using his normal tone of voice. Soon, they settled down for the night, so you went to get yourself ready for bed. As you did your night time routine, you couldn’t help but wonder how in the world you’d tell Nico. It would crush him to hear that the boys were worried he didn’t love them anymore. You both knew they wouldn’t handle his absence well, but neither of you thought it would ever get this bad. You decide against calling him tonight, deciding it would be best to tell him when he gets home tomorrow night, even though it will be pretty late. You go to sleep that night with tears streaming down your face.

You spend the next day trying to distract the boys from Nico’s absence. You take them to the park, take them to watch a movie, and even take them out for ice cream afterward. Is it great parenting? No probably not, but you can’t let them be sad anymore. You’re doing what you can to keep them in good spirits until Nico gets home. Eventually, you get the twins in bed, which goes much smoother than last night. You make yourself comfortable on the couch with a book, knowing you won’t be able to sleep until Nico arrives. It’s a little after 1:00 AM when he walks through the door, and you immediately stand up to hug him, trying to savor his happiness from coming home after a win while you can. After sharing a few kisses and talking about how you hate being apart, you know you have to tell Nico then, not wanting to hide it longer than you already have.

“I have to tell you something, but you can’t freak out right now okay?” you gently pull him toward the couch. You could see the nerves on his face, and the thought of telling him made you queasy.

“Ängeli, it can’t be that bad,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, knowing the last time he saw you this nervous was when you told him you were pregnant. 

“So the boys… they um they missed you a lot while you were gone, but it was a little um a little more than usual,” you were stalling and you knew it. 

“Okay… that’s not too bad? Did they say something I should be worried about? Did they act out? They’re usually on their best behavior for you?”

“They did say something,” you took a breath, knowing how much this would hurt your husband, “Nico, they asked me if you still loved them because you’re gone a lot.” The tears were flowing now, but you had no plans of trying to stop them, especially after seeing the tears about to fall from Nico’s eyes.

“They think I don’t love them?”

“No! At least, not anymore,” you cringe at your words. “I talked to them last night and told them we both love them very very much, and they seemed better today.”

“Oh my god. My sons think I hate them.”

“Nico, baby, they don’t think that. They’re just little. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you have to leave so often. I explained that you don’t have a choice and hate it as much as them, if not more, and they understood a little bit better. It’ll just take some time for them to get used to it again now that they’re older and can think for themselves.”

“How do I even begin to make it up to them? I’m leaving again in a week and a half,” he lets out a sadistic chuckle.

“Nico, they still love you. You know that, right? You’re their favorite person. They could never be mad at you for long.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t just mad, Ängeli. They think I don’t love them.”

“How about you go and get ready for bed, and then we can grab the boys and let them sleep with us tonight? Would that help?” Your grasping at straws trying to keep Nico from feeling so guilty.

“Okay,” his voice is almost as small as Mateo’s was the day before. You finally move from the couch, moving to your bedroom so Nico can do his night time routine. The second he finishes, he’s giving you a look and heading straight for the boys’ room. The two of you don’t even attempt to wake them up, just lifting them from their beds and carrying them to yours. That’s the first night the boys slept in your bed since they turned three. 

Nico took the next day off, skipping practice even though you told him it wouldn’t hurt the boys. He spent the entire day bonding with the boys, making sure they knew he’d never stop loving them. They played games for hours in their playroom until you had to call them down for lunch. After some chicken nuggets, which the boys were very grateful for, they were off to to the backyard, running Nico to the bone. Honestly, this was probably more of a workout for him than practice would be. That night you could hear him reassuring the boys as he put them to bed, “Your Papa will always love you two. No matter how far apart we are or how many time I have to leave, my main goal is to always come home to you two. You’re my priority and my favorite part of my day. Papa loves you both so so much.” When he leaves their bedroom, you act like you didn’t hear anything and pretend not to notice the tear stains on his face. 

The love fests and spoiling didn’t stop that day, though. While he was going to practice and games, he made sure every second he had free was spent with his boys. He even let them go watch practice one day and run around Prudential Center. They were ecstatic to watch him play again, and you knew that every doubt had left their mind by now. Unfortunately, you could tell it would take Nico a while to completely get over it, but just like everything else, you two would tackle that together.

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[shostakobitchh]

Chapter 68 sneak peek!

Three things happened very quickly, one right after the other. 

The first was that Ariel felt herself being sucked backwards as her chest caved in, like she’d been shrunken down and shoved through a tube, hurtling somewhere she couldn’t see. The pain lessened as she sailed further, and the voices around her grew distant and muffled, miles away. 

The second thing was a sudden light in the abyss, flaring into existence like a lone star against the pitch black. 

You’re not supposed to be here. 

The voice was achingly familiar and yet — not. The light, however, Ariel recognized, because it wasn’t a light at all, but a pair of eyes — ocean blue eyes that held her, for just a moment. 

Ariel couldn’t answer. She knew something was terribly wrong with her heart, but it suddenly felt like it was in her throat, to the point where her voice had gone from her — and even if she could, she had no bloody clue what this voice was on about. 

Make it stop, Ariel thought. Make it stop, I want it to stop — please. 

Something’s not right. 

Please, Ariel begged. Please —

Ariel tried to call out, but something was clogging her throat, a sound buzzing away in her ears that made her teeth rattle. Her sense of smell — strangely — was perfectly intact, and as the light faded, Ariel had one last thought. 

She could smell roses. 

The third thing happened — or rather, it had always been happening the whole time, it was just the last thing Ariel registered — when she felt Snape dive in after her, plunge straight into her mind with a ferocity that should’ve shattered her into a million tiny pieces, but the burn of his intrusion, the needle-like jackhammering of his insistence and desperation made the room shimmer and spin, and soon she was back where the pain was spreading through her like a wildfire. 

Ariel heard herself shriek. 

Snape didn’t relent. He was willing her to stay. She could feel the insistence burrowing through the pain, making it worse — 

Ariel’s vision swam before everything sharpened and refocused only to find her father’s face inches from hers, one hand gnarled in her hair and the other clawing into her shoulder. That Thing that lived in the caverns of his eyes was running rampant again, and the other reason Ariel even registered it was because she felt her heart try to give a panicked start at the sight of it. 

She tried desperately to push him out, to Occlude, but nothing they’d ever done had felt like this — he’d never taught her how to fight back while under this type of duress, while every atom in her body seemed to riot in agony. 

Her consciousness split in two — one part desperately clinging to her father's presence, his insistence anchoring her, while the other yearned to flee into the abyss, to escape the searing pain radiating through every nerve ending — and she couldn’t tell where one started and the other ended — 

“You’re with me,” Snape rasped, like he was the one writhing on the bed and not her. “You’re with me — you stay.” 

At the sound of his voice, Ariel hurtled back to herself fully. She gasped for breath, her lungs burning as if she'd been holding it for an eternity. The room slowly came more into focus — the stone walls, the flickering torchlight —

Her father’s face, tight but wild. Ariel might’ve blanched, had she not felt like her insides were being shredded apart.

"I can't," she gasped, tears streaming down her face. "It hurts, it hurts too much —” 

Snape’s grip on her tightened, and then he hissed: “You will.” 

She tried, latching onto her father, the subtle undercurrent of desperation that coated his commanding tone, but the pain was a living thing, writhing and clawing at her insides, threatening to drag her under.

"Now, Severus,” Ariel heard Dumbledore command, then, his voice calm but urgent. "I need to guide it out carefully."

Dumbledore was here. That made Ariel feel only minutely better. He was close, it sounded like he was just above her, where the pain was ripping through her nerve endings, like she was on fire. Beneath the agony, though, was a new feeling, a pressure that felt tighter and higher in her chest. Ariel didn’t like it one bit — didn’t like the fact that it felt like it was moving. 

“What are you waiting for?” Snape bit out. “I’ve got her — do it now!” 

“Keep her airways open, once it’s detached it will move quickly.” Dumbledore said grimly, and then Ariel’s entire world narrowed to the burning in her chest and the distant, echoing voice that called to her from beyond the void. Ariel could feel it calling to stay away, now, but she felt herself falling anyway — 

And then it started to move. 

Ariel choked, her body convulsing as the pressure in her chest rose higher and higher like a dam about to burst, constricting her lungs and clawing its way up her throat. She clutched at her neck, clawed at the skin until one of Snape’s hands pinned hers down. 

“You’re alright, you’re with me,” Snape’s voice lowered to a hiss, his breath hot against her forehead. “You stay with me.” 

She just managed to glance up through the haze, trying to grapple onto something other than the pain, to find Dumbledore replacing Snape’s position next to her. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, the blue irises almost luminescent in the dim light, but he wasn’t in the void with her, he was — 

Please, Ariel tried to shriek at him, I want my dad — I want it to stop — 

“Miss Evans,” Snape’s voice was low at her ear again, but she couldn’t see him, still pinning her hands to the cot. “Look at me.” 

She found his eyes again, felt herself being pulled back into them, like bottomless pools. 

"Focus on me," Snape said, his voice a low growl. "Do not look away. You stay with me.” 

All Ariel could manage was a muffled sob. What was happening to her? Why couldn’t she talk now, why was her heart trying to pry its way out of her chest? She tried to obey, fighting against the instinct to thrash and scream. Each inhale felt like swallowing shards of glass. 

Dumbledore's hand hesitated above her. “She needs a Body Bind —” 

“No.” Snape snarled back. “I’ve got her.” 

"Severus," Dumbledore warned. 

"I’ve. Got. Her,” Snape threw back at him, the veins in his neck straining with the effort of keeping Ariel still. His gaze never wavered from hers. His hand moved to her temple, cool fingers brushing back damp strands of hair. “For Merlin’s sake, go!” 

Then, Dumbledore began to chant. His words were soft and lilting, a strange melody that echoed through the room and seemed to vibrate within Ariel’s chest. His hand moved rhythmically above her body as if conducting some secret symphony only he could hear.

A strangled, gurgling sound tore from Ariel's throat as the searing pressure clawed its way higher, gathering in a tight knot behind her sternum. She could feel it pulsing, writhing, fighting to break free. Her vision swam, the faces around her blurring into indistinct shapes as darkness crept in at the edges. 

That was when Snape's fingers gripped her jaw to hold her mouth open.

[littlesunshine1223]

Watching Through The Window ~ Ticci Toby

(TW: Blood, Car crash, death, abuse, hallucinations, hospitals, fire, swearing, ETC…)

The only thing I wanted was for a family who got along. A dad who wasn’t abusive, a mother who would do the right thing and get her kids out of the crossfire of her drunk husband’s anger, and a sister who would care a little more so we could get out of that house. But in that house the only thing I could do was sit in my room and watch the outside world through the glass pains of the window. I could see the forest that was overpopulated with trees, the clouds that were scattered about though the sky, the neighboring houses of the people who didn’t know what happened within the walls of this house, and the passing cars full of seemingly happy families.

It seems like the more I try to make things better the more I get beat by a drunk bastard who thinks of me as a mistake, the faulted child he shouldn’t have had. Good thing I was born with a nerve defect to where I can’t feel pain. My tourettes are the main reason he hates me, the main reason why he and everyone in this town calls me a freak of nature. It’s not like I had a choice of having it or not. No one really talks to me unless they want me to do something for them, bully me for existing, or if they want the answers to the homework.

That next day mom sent me and my sister to the store. I was watching through the window at the road seconds before my sister, Lyra, lost control of the wheel while trying to avoid hitting a deer. The car flipped and turned but the second we landed I saw her laying on the ground bloodied with glass piercing her body. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital in a stiff bed that was as hard as a rock while some thin sheets that feel like tissues draped over half my body. The nurses and doctors were all looking at me as my body twitched and I tried to move only for the nurses to try and ease me back down.

I yell at them, demanding to see my sister, but as I do I notice there’s a gash through the left side of my face. The gash exposed the left side of my mouth, my teeth and gums. The more I yell at the nurses and doctors that I want to see my sister the more they try to shove me back down so I’m laying flat on that dreaded boulder they classified as a bed. “She’s gone. Your sister, Lyra, died in that crash.” The head doctor told me which made something inside me shatter into a million tiny bits. The next few seconds were spent with the nurses shoving me down onto the bed as I screamed and fully broke down.

The only person who gave me hope for a peaceful life was just brutally killed while trying to keep me safe. If she wouldn’t have swerved to hit the deer, the antlers would’ve gone right through the windshield and I would’ve been where she is now. Dead and practically shredded to pieces. A few days after being constantly pestered by the doctors and nurses I was okayed to go back home. My mom was the only one who willingly visited me in the hospital whenever she wasn’t dealing with my dad’s drunken beatings and pettiness. She took me back to the house, it wasn’t my home. Not anymore. We pulled up in the driveway only to see dear ol’ dad standing in the yard. “He claims to love us but he didn’t even come to see Lyra whenever she was dying! He didn’t come visit me once!” I loudly exclaimed as my tourettes started to kick back up in high gear.

All my mom could do was sigh as she got out of the car and walked around to the side I was sitting on, opening the door and closing it behind me as she practically drug me towards the house. “He’s 13, he can walk by himself.” My dad said before sipping from his nearly empty beer bottle. “I’m 18.” I mutter angrily under my breath then shove my mom’s hands off me.

That night I was sitting in my window sill just like I had done before I lost Lyra. I watched as the street lights turned on from the overgrowing darkness of nightfall but that’s when I noticed a tall pale white man with no face wearing a suit seemingly staring back at me from underneath the light across from my house. My head felt fuzzy before I fell backwards onto my carpeted bedroom floor. I wiped my nose after feeling something dripping from it, pulling my hand away I saw a crimson liquid. It was blood. My blood.

My mom had apparently heard me hit the floor so when she flung my door open like the FBI was raiding the house she instantly rushed over to me and scooped me up in her arms. As she helped me up I looked outside again but only this time the man from before was gone.

Over the next few days something has felt…off. I keep seeing the faceless figure from the other night out of the corner of my eyes, I think I’m going insane. The sound of static and high pitched ringing keeps infesting my ears, the nosebleeds are more common than they should be, and to top it off the drunkenness of my dad only got worse after Lyra’s funeral. It was a Friday night and mom had just gone to sleep after working over time all week to support all of us in the house since my dad only spends money on alcohol and cigarettes for himself. Taking money from mom and refusing to work then coming home and abusing us. I heard that abusive bastard downstairs rummaging around, probably drunk again, all the abusive thoughts of what he’d done to me, Lrya, and mom boiled in my mind and made something snap.

I got up from the seat in the window and went downstairs as quietly as I could since my ticks and twitches caused me to move around jaggedly. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs I saw him, the faceless man, standing under the streetlight outside. I looked at him for what felt like hours before dad’s voice chimed in and broke my concentration, “What do you think you’re doing you brat?! Go back to your room before I give you an even worse beating than earlier! Hell you’re such a freak you can’t even feel it!” He told me but before I knew what I was doing a twitch caused my hand to fly up and pop him right in the face. The sickening crack of his nose breaking still echoes through my mind to this day. Blood stained the carpet and splattered on the wall next to him as he clutched his wounded face. When I turned back to face the window I saw the faceless man was no longer there but at that moment I was shoved to the ground by dad.

I kicked his feet out from underneath him and ran into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the holder. “What are you going to do?! Stab me?” The drunk questioned me but I didn’t answer and only gave him a sinister smile and stalked back to where he laid on the blood covered floor. “I’m t-tired of you and your crap!” I laughed after stuttering due to a tick. All that man could do was throw misdirected punches at me but he only landed one and that was one to my eye that would’ve greatly affected the average person, that’s why I love not being able to feel pain. I didn’t hesitate to jab that butcher's knife 12 inches into his gut. His screams after the metal stabbed him woke my mom up. She rushed down the stairs and began crying and screaming at me. “Toby?! HOW COULD YOU?!” she cried and held my father’s bloodied body.

She reached for her phone, screaming and sobbing that she’s calling the cops. Anxiety set in and I ran out of the kitchen and threw the door to the garage open. I grabbed two hatchets and hooked them both through the belt loops of my jeans before looking at the matches on the shelf above the gas can that was almost completely full. Lyra had filled it up the day before we got into the accident. I was snapped once again from my thoughts at the sound of sirens, I grabbed the gas can and the matches. The gas left a trail behind me as I ran out of the small side door and into the yard.

Soon the police arrived but it was already too late, the house was completely engulfed in flames. “If my mother loved that abuser so damn much then she could burn with him.” the voices in my head told me as a wicked smile formed on my face. The police tried to catch me but I was too quick for them, at least I was until a tree root snagged my shoe and caused me to fall in the mud. I didn’t feel any pain but the way I landed knocked the wind out of me. The smell of fire and burning wood filled my nostrils and when I opened my eyes again I was surrounded by fire. A pair of shoes stood in front of me and as I looked up I saw him. The faceless man from underneath the street light. Static filled my mind and slowly everything faded to darkness.