ââ floral, 005, they/them, bisexual and computer science student.
right now, i am using this space as an outlet to relax when i get home from work. i hope to find other people who write for the sheer pleasure of it.
۶ৠwho i am
ᄫᥠfandoms: agents of s.h.i.e.l.d., bones, karate kid (+ cobra kai), and supernatural.
ᄫᥠinterests: photography, writing, and yoga.
ᄫᥠmusic: *playlist in progress*
ᄫᥠfavorite topics: neuroscience and psychology.
ă⥠ătasty leftovers
ᄫᥠtags:
01. floral's camera (my photos/videos)
02. floral's notes app (writing)
03. floral's uh-ohs
04. floral's medical binder
ᄫᥠcharacters:
01. Temperance Brennan
02. Seeley Booth
03. Bobby Brown
04. Phil Coulson
05. Miguel Diaz
06. Leo Fitz
07. Daisy Johnson
08. Robby Keene
09. Anthony LaRusso
10. Daniel LaRusso
11. Samantha LaRusso
12. Johnny Lawrence
13. Melinda May
14. Ali Mills
15. Eli Moskowitz
16. Tory Nichols
17. Lance Sweets
18. Dean Winchester
19. Sam Winchester
ᄫᥠnewest writing link: *Canva document link coming soon*
Samantha had just come home from working the evening at her fatherâs dealership. She is exhausted and doesnât want to deal with anything. More importantly, she just wants to sleep. Her brother had texted her that he needed her help with something. Her gut tightens as she hurries home to see what it could be. Upon arriving home, she sees that Anthony was initially trying to hide whatever it may be behind him. Â
She moved him out of the way to see someone slumped on their couch. âAnthony, who in the fuck is that?â She asked, pointing so hard that her finger had popped. Her finger shook with uncomfort and uncertainty. She watched him closely as he tried to divert the topic off the person. She really didnât want to repeat her question, so she just crossed her arms and glared at him. He finally confessed, putting his head down that it was Hawk. Â
Her eyes about fell from her head as she was shocked. Sighing heavily, as she stepped closer to her brother. Her palms were flat and mushed into the shoulders of her brother, as she pressured Anthony to tell her why he was here in their home at this hour. âHe had been drinking a lot at a party I was passing by on my scooter. He looked like he was doing way too much, so I brought him here to be safe.â he admitted. She slaps her forehead, already nauseous of what this shit-show is going to be like. Â
She sent Anthony up to his room while she dealt with Hawk. She flung her purse down off her shoulders to prep herself. She takes one long look at him, blank. Wanting to feel anger even, but there was nothing. So now she had to be the one carrying him up the stairs. He was fairly light on his feet, making it a little difficult to get him up as he was heavier than she had originally thought. Â
She opened the door of a guest bedroom before gently placing him down on the bed. She didnât even want to look at him, so she sighed into her hands. Slapping herself awake after thinking that this could all be some nightmare. Removing her hands from her eyes to see that he was still there. Groaning and whining uncomfortably. Â
She wished to tell him to be quiet. Her anger for him was still in there, as she hadnât forgiven him in the way Demetri or Miguel had. So, she simply removed her earrings before placing her hair into a braid to get it off her shoulders. It like he knew she had a long evening by the way his eyes shifted from being too drunk to give a damn to a different emotion. âDonât tell me you can see what I feel right now...â Â
Now it was her time to groan, she did by helping him by removing his shoes, jacket, overshirt, and belt. She doesnât know why he felt the need to wear so much clothing when he possibly knew he was going to drink anyway. His body reacted to her touch; it wasnât like he could control the fact he just slapped her hand from his belt. Â
She shrugged it off as a normal reaction. She had moved one of the pillows to be positioned under his head so he wouldnât choke. To do that she moved a free hand to hold him by the nape of his neck. His eyes rolled back slightly â a weird breathing sound escaped his mouth. Her eyes shifted to look at him with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust, she thinks. Â
She did crook a smile at him when noticing he was drooling on himself. Teasing him as she wiped his mouth with her sleeve. She thought to herself to take a picture to send to Miguel later, but thatâs if she felt up to it. Hawkâs face did grow rosier in color which had alarmed her thinking that he was overheating â or close to throwing up. His fingers began twitching at his sides. Â
She didnât know what that meant. She had to leave the room to find looser fitting clothing so he wouldnât. She searched everywhere in the house for anything that could fit. She didnât want to, but she went into her fatherâs side of her parentsâ closet. She pulled out an old sweatsuit. It still looked relatively new. Â
She could brush these off as pajamas...Hopefully. She took a sniff of them to see if that had been washed recently or not but had to hurry back to the room where he was after hearing her parentsâ car. She held onto the suit so tight as if her life had depended on it. She sat on the inside of the room, back against the door, then it dawned on her that she is kind of forcing her to be in the same proximity as him. Â
God, she hated this already. She hit her head on the side of the door, knowing that there could be no explanation for this. Forcing herself to get up and look at him one more time. âPrincess?â he choked out, trying to smile possibly to be cocky or something. Her eyes narrowed onto him intently. âHawk.â Â
âWhere am I exactly?â he asks, trying to get off the bed. She rested a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to go back down. His brows twitched as his head hit the pillow. He found part of the pinning amusing. She felt sick, seeing it in his eyes. Â
âWipe that smug look off your face and maybe, I will tell you.â she spat. He gurgled a small chuckle. He mumbled something to himself that she wished he had said loud enough for the both to hear. Clearing his throat, he tried his best to straighten his face out. He kept smiling though. âCan you quit that? Ugh, youâre so frustrating to deal with.âÂ
âAnd how do you think I feel knowing I have to deal with you daily now? Especially now that I have joined your dojo and everything?â he sneered, as he got up again but closer to her face. The warm air of his breathing touched her face â they were way too close for comfort. She had pushed his face away from hers. âToo close, mister.â He tried to get up once more, but she had dug a hand deep into his shoulder pinning him to the bed once more.Â
Seeing his eyes dilate even more like that makes her feel more sick. He was enjoying this way too much. She thought it would be best to ignore his amusement or... Arousement... Or whatever it may be.
âDo not.â Â
âWhy not?âÂ
âAll that movement could make you throw up.âÂ
âHm... I must say that sounds an awfully similar to caring about me, princess.âÂ
âAs if I would ever do that...âÂ
âAwe, getting touchy, are we?âÂ
âOh, shut up!âÂ
He snorts at himself, thinking he had won. She mimicked his snort. He gaped his mouth in surprise she would. âWhat if what you just did hurt my feelings?âÂ
âDo you even still have those feelings left?â she asked, fully serious. She then threw the sweatsuit at his head. He ripped them off, just to flare his nose at her. Her brows twitched in a way she was asking, âWell?â He put his head down on the pillow. He doesnât want to look at her any longer. Â
 âDonât tell me that actually hurt your feelings,â she says, gently as she crept her way onto the mattress with him. He rolled his head over to look at her, seeing her laying with him. He tried to laugh it off but found himself crying instead. She took her sleeve wiping it before it fell. He has never cried in front of other people, but Demetri. Â
Well Demetri didnât see this side of him often, and the tears kept coming. Her demeanor changed, softened as she looked at him. âI didnât mean to actually making you cry, holy shit.â He smiled small, as he leaned to her touch. He didnât mean to do that, right? Â
She let him rest his face underneath her hand. His tears were warm on her cold hands. He closes a hand over top of hers. She could pull away at any moment, but she doesnât. She lets him hold it. Â
He moved his body toward her as he settled into falling asleep. His hand tightens around hers. She doesnât know how to stop herself from planting a small kiss to his forehead. Â
