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fawnandshadows · 1 year

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You’re So Vain

Pairing: Feysand

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, cuck!tamlin, karaoke

Word Count: 6k

Gifting this one to my darling @impossiblescissorspeachpaper !! Thank you so much for helping me work through this idea 🥹🫶🏻. Hope you have a marvelous December ♥️. This is the first Feysand fic I have ever written!! My humble offering to @feysand-month 🤍.

“What is he doing here?” Feyre asked, glaring at the back of her ex-boyfriend. Tall — the only two people taller than him at the party were his brothers — and she could see his lean muscles underneath his white button down. God, who wears a well pressed shirt to a karaoke party?

He ran a tan hand through his perfectly tousled hair which caused Feyre to narrow her eyes. She knew exactly how much time and effort he put into his hair. How many products he used, how much he spent on imported hair care products from France. How the little movement he just did was actually pre-determined and done to make him look nonchalant.

She hated how much she remembered about him when they broke up 8 months ago.

She hated how much she learned about him when they only dated for a month. Four weeks. 30 days. 730 hours.

She hated that she still thought about him when she fucked her current boyfriend — Tamlin. But it was the only way she could feel pleasure when she laid underneath him and he grunted on top of her. Most days she didn’t even like Tamlin. But it was better than being alone.

“He’s my cousin,” Mor explained, running a hand over her slinky red dress. Style ran in the family, apparently. Feyre adjusted her own simple black dress. “I couldn’t just not invite him.”

Her smile was too innocent.

“What were your words? ‘He would never degrade himself with a karaoke party?’” Ferye asked sarcastically, giving her friend a bland look and shifting all of her golden brown hair to one shoulder. It was absurdly hot in their apartment, but she guessed that’s what happened when you crammed too many bodies into an apartment like sardines. Even if it was the middle of December, and it wasn’t as if their apartment was small by any means. But Feyre felt her blood start to simmer the second Rhysand walked into the room.

“Evidently I was wrong.” Mor said brightly, pouring herself and Feyre large portions of her homemade margaritas. She handed Feyre a red plastic cup rimmed with salt.

“He broke up with me, Mor,” Feyre said softly, proud of herself for hiding the hitch in her voice. “Just because you put us in the same room doesn’t mean he’s going to magically fall in love with me. Plus I have a boyfriend.”

Mor rolled her brown eyes and took a sip of her Margarita.

“Sadly.” Mor muttered, not hiding her hatred for Feyre’s boyfriend.

“If Amarantha comes, then I’m leaving.” Feyre said seriously. She had no wish to see the red head clinging to Rhys — the thought alone had her seeing red. She’d rather scratch her eyes out than see those two going at it in real life. They were all over social media — it didn’t matter that she had Amarantha blocked on all platforms, but she couldn’t go on tiktok without seeing edits of them on her FYP. And if she saw one more picture of them on her Pinterest she was going to blow a gasket.

It didn’t matter than Amarantha was married to somebody else, some high ranking government official — Rhysand was still more powerful than her husband. With his old money and family connections.

Feyre wanted to vomit just thinking about them together.

She could only go on Instagram in small bursts, and every time she fought the urge to check his Instagram to see if he was posting about them. She didn’t go on Instagram often, since it was almost always a battle she lost.

“No way that bitch is getting past our door.” Mor said viciously. It was a toss up between who she hated more: Amarantha or Tamlin.

Feyre’s blue eyes traveled back to her ex-boyfriend and her world stopped for a bit to see that he was looking at her. His violet eyes intense as they stared at her.

Rage simmered through her veins as he smirked at her.

Feyre glared at him as she took a large gulp of her margarita.

“You can’t leave me tonight.” Feyre told Mor, who looked at her mischievously.

— —

Mor was a horrible friend.

30 minutes later Rhysand approached them and Mor just had to double check the karaoke machine.

“There you are,” Rhysand said in a voice that was practically a purr. “I’ve been looking for you, Feyre Darling.”

Her stomach dipped as he said her nickname. His British accent just as lovely and attractive as ever.

“Don’t,” Feyre said in a cold voice, jamming her finger into his chest. “Call me that.”

His smirk grew, and the cocky expression on his handsome face irked her as much as it unraveled her. She wondered what the hell he saw in her face. She was never as good at masking her emotions as he was.

“You’ve always loved it when I called you that,” He dipped his head close to her — close enough that she could feel his damp breath on her cheek. “If I recall correctly,” Warmth flooded her veins. “You especially liked when I said it as you were coming all over my cock—”

“Stop—”

“Tell me, Feyre Darling, has anyone else been able to reach the spot deep inside of you?”

“Yes.” Feyre lied through her teeth.

“Liar.” Rhsyand said softly, his lips still upturned.

“Tamlin does,” Feyre continued with her lie, not breaking eye contact as she took another large sip of her drink. “He makes me forget your name. All the time.” I can only come if I imagine he’s you.

She thought a hint of fury passed through his eyes.

He licked his lips and Feyre hated how her eyes were drawn to the action.

“You’re with Tamlin?” Rhsyand asked in a flat, cold voice. He was close enough that Feyre could feel the tension radiating from his body.

“Yes.” Feyre replied, tilting her chin up to glare at him.

Rhys stole the plastic cup from her hand and finished it in one drink. Her eyes glassed a little as she looked at the way his throat worked. Fuck, she had a thing for necks. And she recalled so vividly how Rhys liked it when she bit him right next to his pulse — the first time she did it was on a whim, but it pushed him over the edge and caused him to come inside of her.

They were on his fucking yacht and had sex the entire weekend.

How the hell was she with a guy who had his own yacht?

“I bet he doesn’t even touch your clit,” Rhys said, taking a step towards her until her back was pressed into the counter, his arms caging her in. “Or go down on you at all. He’s a prick.”

True. Everything he said was true.

And yet she felt the need to defend her boyfriend.

“His cock is bigger than yours.”

Another lie.

His gaze darkened and his smirk fell.

“You’re a horrible liar, Feyre Darling.”

“Then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

“Because the thought of him sticking his tiny prick inside of you makes me want to flay the skin from his bones.”

Feyre bit her lip.

“Why do you care so much?” Feyre asked, her face pulling towards his.

“Because I remember how fucking wet you were coming on my cock over and over again, Feyre Darling, and your sweet little pants as you stretched around me. And how fucking insatiable you were riding me all night long,” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver. “I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

True.

“How the hell did we have room for your ego in our relationship?”

Feyre glared as his lips fell back into a smirk.

“I bet you’re wet right now.” Rhys said, and Feyre felt her cheeks burn.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Mor’s boisterous voice echoed through the microphone.

Feyre recognized the music and lyrics instantly.

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy.

Feyre felt herself smiling, the song fit her friend perfectly.

With two hands, she pushed Rhysand away from her and muttered, “I need another margarita.”

The sound of Rhys’s laughter grated on her nerves and set her on edge — especially because she could feel how wet her panties were.

She was grateful Mor only knew how to make strong margaritas. And she was also incredibly grateful that Mor thrived in the spotlight because it meant that no one could see her skulking in the corner.

Mor crooned the words, “But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby - When I close my eyes, you come and take me - On and on and on, it's so deep in my daydreams,” and twisted her body to the music in a way that captured everyone’s attention. And there was one brunette that Mor was making eyes at, and Feyre knew Mor was going to go back with her tonight.

Leaving her their apartment.

Feyre took another swig of her drink and grimaced when she found it was empty, so she filled it up again. By the time Mor finished her song, Feyre was half way done with her third margarita when her blonde friend pointed to her.

“Feyre,” Mor sung her name into the microphone. “It’s your turn.”

Feyre was ready to shake her head and run out the door, but she saw Rhysand smirking at her and raising his eyebrows in a challenge, Feyre quickly finished her drink and walked to where Mor stood on a makeshift stage. She didn’t even know how her roommate got it into their apartment without her knowing, and the sparkling disco ball that hung over the stage came close to smacking her in the head.

She took the mic from her friend and slowly scrolled through the songs until she found the perfect one.

The opening notes sounded through the room and her eyes clashed with violet ones as she sang, “You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht,” She hated the fact that he had an actual fucking yacht. “Your hat strategically dipped below one eye - Your scarf it was apricot,” She gestured to the imaginary clothes dramatically and rolled her eyes as she moved. “You had one eye in the mirror, as you watched yourself gavotte,”

She noted the exact moment that recognition dawned on his face — it was accompanied by his brothers laughing and playfully punching him in the arms.

Her hips moved with the beat of the song, popping to the side as she sang, “And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner - They'd be your partner and,” A smirk stretched across his face as she danced like she was Kate Hudson from How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days. “You're so vain - You probably think this song is about you - You're so vain (you're so vain) - I bet you think this song is about you - Don't you don't you?”

The bastard brought his hands up and brought them together — he was slow clapping at her. Douche, Feyre cursed silently, hating that he was enjoying this.

“You had me several months,” She intentionally changed the lyric, but the venom that laced her voice was unplanned. “Ago when I was still quite naive - Well you said that we made such a pretty pair and that you would never leave,” If it wasn’t for the copious amounts of tequila, then she would have moderated her voice. “But you gave away the things you loved - And one of them was me,” She placed her hand on her chest and bowed dramatically, showing off her cleavage just slightly and she watched as Rhys’s violet eyes followed. His jaw clenched. “I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee clouds in my coffee and,” Her hips popped with the song, and she grinned hearing everyone singing along. Everyone but Rhys. “You're so vain- You probably think this song is about you - You're so vain,” Even Azriel and Cassian were singing along — Cassian cupping his hands and sang with the booming voice. Azriel may have just been mouthing the words, but a win was a win.

Feyre continued to sing, loving how the tequila made her bold and brash even though she was certain she would be cringing with regret in the morning.

Her eyes narrowed as she spit out the lines, “Well you're where you should be all the time - And when you're not, you're with some underworld spy - Or the wife of a close friend wife of a close friend,” An image of him and Amarantha tangled in sheets flashed through her mind, fueling her anger.

Like a spark in an engine, the mental image of that old crone with her hands on Rhys sent her spiraling as she sang the last few lines of the song. “Probably think this song is about you - You're so vain.”

She didn’t call on someone else, she just set the mic down and marched into her room, avoiding eye contact with everyone in her path.

Feyre was vaguely aware of Cassian climbing onto the stage and making a show of selecting whatever song he was going to sing.

She closed the door behind her, but her neck whipped around when it opened two seconds later.

Rhys slid into her room and leaned against the closed door. His white shirt tight over his chest as he crossed his arms. The muscles on his arms straining against the fabric — the bastard probably did it on purpose.

He crossed one ankle over the other as he gazed at her.

“Feyre Darling,” He said in his lilting accent. “Did you really think I would let you get away with that?”

Feyre lifted a hand, pointing towards the door, and said, “Get out.”

He locked the door behind his back and pushed off of the frame, taking a step towards her.

She could hear Cassian begin his song through the door. It sounded suspiciously like Meat Loaf.

“I have a boyfriend.” Feyre said, dropping her hand as Rhys walked closer to her.

“And yet you sang to me tonight.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“I think you missed the point of the fucking song.”

“And I think you missed me.” Rhys said and he swooped his head down to her, but Feyre pushed him away.

“What the fuck are you doing,Rhys? You,” She poked his peck roughly, hating how his white upper teeth sank into his bottom lip to hide a smile. “Broke up,” She punctuated every word with her fingers on his chest. “With me.”

His violet eyes darkened.

“Because I had to, not because I wanted to.” His voice was unbearably soft.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You’ve gotten a potty mouth since we were together,” Rhys observed, and before Feyre could stop him he brought his hand to her face and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Your mouth is much too pretty for such dirty words.”

“I must have picked it up from Tamlin.” Feyre said, pouting as his thumb stilled on her lips.

“Then I’m going to fuck it out of your system.” Rhys growled, fury lining his face at the mention of her boyfriend.

“Oh, so it’s ok for you to say fuck?” Feyre narrowed her eyes, drawing out the word and putting extra emphasis on the k.

“Your mouth is going to be the first thing I fuck tonight.”

Feyre gasped as his hand moved from her mouth and tangled in her hair, tugging it sharply to angle her mouth directly under his.

She shivered, remembering how much he loved it when she took his cock into her mouth. He loved coming down her throat as Feyre looked up at him with wide blue eyes, especially with smeared makeup. And she knew it drove him crazy to watch her swallow.

“And your girlfriend?” Feyre said spitefully, unable to not throw it in his face.

His grip on her hair tightened.

“One day, love, I’ll tell you everything.” He said, his breath fanning over her face.

Agitation stung under the surface of her skin.

“You can tell me now,” Feyre said between her clenched teeth. “Or you can get out.”

“You don’t want me to leave,” Rhys placed his lips against her cheek and Feyre’s breath came faltering out of her lips, and he slowly moved down to her neck. His kisses burning a trail over her sensitive skin. “Or you would have kicked me out by now.” He said into her neck.

His tongue traced over her fluttering pulse.

“I tried.”

“That little fit? That’s our foreplay, Feyre Darling, you should remember that.” Rhys said as he moved his lips up her neck.

He was right.

He loved to heat her up and cool her down.

She was about to respond, but his lips dropped to hers.

Hot and needy.

Feyre felt her knees give out, but Rhysand’s free arm wrapped around her and brought their fronts together.

His tongue grazed the seam of her lips and Feyre parted her mouth, moaning as his tongue slid past her lips.

Breathlessly he pulled away from her and said, “I knew you missed me.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at his arrogance.

“There is one thing that I missed.” Feyre admitted and placed her palm against his hard cock over his black slacks.

Rhys chuckled lightly and said, “A rather large thing, really, darling, but then again you were always greedy when it came to my cock. You could never get enough.”

A rush of applause sounded through the door — Cassian must have finished his song.

“Did anyone see you follow me?” Feyre asked, finally registering the fact that there was still a party going on without them.

Rhysand gave her a bland, regal look.

“Do you really think this is my first time sneaking away for a tryst, love?”

Feyre glowered at him.

“It is with me.” She growled and roughly unbuttoned his shirt — a few of his buttons popping off and clanking as they landed. Feyre didn’t want to imagine how much they cost. They were probably made of platinum.

“Darling, don’t take your jealousy out on my Armani.” Rhysand said, laughter lacing his voice as he shrugged out of his shirt. He walked over to the side of her room where her desk laid and hung his shirt on the back of her chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

He stepped out of his shoes, and then the clicking of his belt unbuckling filled the room, followed by the swishing of his pants.

And then he was naked in front of her and it became a little harder for Feyre to breathe.

Her mouth watered a bit at the sight of his erection — a little bead of liquid pooling at the tip.

He looked so fucking confident as he walked over to her, as if they were in his room.

“You know,” Feyre said, looking up at him. “My lock is broken. It only works like 50% of the time.”

Rhys placed two hands on her exposed arms and turned her around, his hand leaving her skin to remove her dress.

“I was never one to shy away from a little exhibitionism,” Rhys whispered into her ear as he unzipped her dress slowly. “Love, why the fuck are you wearing this rag? We break up and you lose all sense of fashion?”

Feyre rolled her eyes.

“I have more important things to spend my money on, like rent.”

She shivered as he nudged the sleeves of her shoulders and the dress pooled by her feet. Feyre stood in only her heels and little black lace thong — goose bumps pebbled her skin, but soon Rhysands large, warm hands covered her breasts. He pulled her back into his chest and Feyre bit her lip at the contact — his hardened chest hot against her back. She could feel his muscles straining against her. His thick dick pressing into the round globes of her ass.

“Feyre Darling,” He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and he moved his hips against hers. “I can put you up in a lovely little townhouse. Apartment. Penthouse. Whatever you want. I can give you the loveliest clothes and jewels. All of your needs will be met,” He grasped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged sharply. “All the orgasms you want.”

Hurt pricked at her heart and the next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“As your whore?”

Rhysand tensed as he processed her words — an arrow aimed straight for his heart, and a little worm of regret wiggled inside of her. Probably from the tequila.

“Of course not.”

“If you can give me all that, then why can’t we be together?” Feyre asked, looking over her shoulder at him to find his violet eyes burning brightly.

“We will be — one day. You need to trust me,” Rhys said in a harsh whisper as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. “Fuck, I missed having you in my arms.”

“I missed your touch.” Feyre admitted in a whisper and reached to claim his lips.

As they kissed one of his hands reached down to clasp between her thighs. He groaned against her lips and he muttered, “I fucking knew you were wet for me. I remember your needy little pussy. How my tongue and fingers were just never enough — you craved my cock. And you would get into such a cute little frenzy, coming over and over on my tongue and still desperate for more. My insatiable little love.”

“I love the way you feel in me.” Feyre said, leaning her head back on his shoulder as he worked her over her lacy thong. His other hand teasing her pink nipple.

Rhys dipped his head to kiss her neck.

“The first time we were together you came from my cock alone. All you had to do was take my entire cock and you drenched the bed from your orgasm.”

A gush of liquid seeped out of her and onto his hand — Feyre could feel him smirking against her neck.

“And now all you need are my words to come. Feyre Darling, don’t tell me my voice alone does it for you.��

“Your voice only does it for yourself, darling.” Feyre replied mockingly, and she delighted in the little chuckle that pulled from his lips.

“To be determined, my love.”

Feyre was about to respond, but the tearing of fabric and the friction of her panties being pulled against her clit caused a small scream to sound from her lips.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Rhys grasped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “Made of silk.”

“Sounds impractical.”

“I like the sound of silk when it tears, darling.”

His fingers were hot as they slid through her wet folds, teasing her bud.

“I can’t wait to be inside of your sweet pussy,” Rhys said hotly into her ear. “But first I want you on your knees.”

He twisted and maneuvered her body until she was kneeling in front of him, dressed in only her strappy black heels.

She remembered that he had a thing for them. For a brief moment she was stunned by how much she remembered about him, but soon became enamored by his erection bobbing in front of her eyes.

She hated that her mouth watered just by looking at it.

It bobbed in front of her long and thick and she longed to have it between her thighs, filling her up as he took her at a brutal pace.

Feyre roughly grabbed the base of his cock and used her tongue to trace the vein that ran the length of him. All the way until she got to the weeping head and swirled her tongue, collecting all the liquid that beaded at his tip.

His fingers pulled at her hair, enough for Feyre to feel slight stings on her scalp.

Her pussy clenched in response.

She looked up at him with wide eyes as her mouth wrapped around his head, her cheeks already hollowing out.

His sharp features were ridden with lust, and his eyes were burning bright as he gazed down at her and Feyre felt so fucking desireable.

Their eyes locked as Feyre slowly took more of him, and Rhys gathered her hair into his hand like a ponytail.

“Your mouth is so pretty wrapped around me,” Rhysand said, slowly starting to move his hips. “Isn’t this a better use of your mouth, darling? Rather than saying all those filthy words?”

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him and scraped over his skin with her teeth, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“That wasn’t very nice, Feyre Darling. I’m going to show you the proper use of your mouth.” His voice was heavy with lust and he snapped his hips into her face, her nose nudging his pelvis.

Drool pooled down her chin as she choked on his cock, which was moving furiously in and out of her mouth. His balls slapping against her chin

Feyre was so turned on and drenched that liquid coated the insides of her thighs, loving how Rhys was slowly losing control and that it was because of her. He was always so annoyingly in control of how he appeared to others — always in a mask, showing people the arrogant prick he pretended to be. Well, mostly pretended to be. She saw the depth of him when they were together and it completely captured her heart. He was still an arrogant prick, but there was more.

She moaned around his hot cock, slippery from her mouth, and he held her mouth to the base of his cock as he shot down her throat — Feyre swallowed most of it, some of it falling down her chin as he pulled out of her mouth.

A line of spit connecting her lips to the head of his dick.

Her tongue collecting the smear of semen on her lips. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the drool on her chin.

Feyre panted with her hands on her knees, staring up at Rhysand and wondering what it was about him that drove her wild with lust. The thought of doing what they just did with anyone else made her want to shrivel up.

“Stop thinking.” Rhys said, helping her to her feet. Her knees wobbly like jelly and his lips claimed hers, his tongue sweeping through her mouth.

Feyre moaned knowing he could taste himself.

When he pulled away Feyre said, “Tamlin makes me brush my teeth and rinse with Listerine before kissing me after—”

A hard slap cracked against her ass, and Feyre screamed in shock and pleasure. His hand roughly massaging her cheek to ease her stinging flesh.

“Don’t,” Rhys growled through clenched teeth. “Talk about him.”

“Jealous?” Feyre asked, wanting to provoke him.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?”

“No,” Rhysand said, kissing her again. “But I’m fucking taking you anyway.”

He picked her up and tossed her on the bed — Feyre felt dizzy for a second before spreading her legs for him, her knees high as her heels dug into her quilt.

She didn’t care that he was seeing how soaking wet and ready she was for him. Didn’t care that it was probably stroking his ego in a way she would probably never hear the end of.

“Then fucking take me and make me forget about him.”

Rhys leaned over and placed one hand on the outside of her hip and he traced the fingers of his free hand over her exposed sex, playing with her and making a show of her wetness.

His lips turned up into a self-satisfied smirk as he plunged a long finger inside of her, and Feyre could feel herself desperately clenching at the contact. Wanting to tighten around something much bigger than his finger.

A strangled scream got caught in her throat as he curved his finger to hit the spot within her that only he knew about.

“They’re going to hear you, love.” Rhys said, preening at the fact that he was causing her restraint to slip.

“I can’t,” Feyre panted as he pulled out and slid two fingers inside of her, hitting her sensitive spot again. “Help it,” She tried to glare at him. “You know that.”

He always teased her about how vocal she was during sex, but the sounds went right to his cock and his ego. He loved her sounds, and he loved making her scream.

His smirk split his face as her hips ground against his hands, fruitlessly trying to take control of her own pleasure.

Rhys took pity on her and pressed his thumb into her swollen clit. His hand and her hips moving together as Feyre rode out her wave of pleasure.

As soon as she fell limp and sweaty against her bed Rhys slid up her body and aligned his hard cock against her dripping, glistening cunt. One arm propped next to her head and one hand gripping her plush thigh.

The round head of his cock slipped through the puffy lips of her pussy and nudged at her entrance.

Feyre watched as his teeth bit his lip as he slowly sunk into her, her hands came up to grip his tight ass, pushing him further into her stretching cunt.

“Yes.” Feyre said in a breathy moan, feeling deliciously full as his cock filled her to the hilt, her eyes falling shut.

She waited for him to move, to start thrusting in and out of her in the way that she liked, to lift her hips in the way that altered her universe.

He stayed still.

Feyre opened her eyes to see Rhysand gazing down at her.

“I want you to remember this Feyre,” He said in a dark, full voice. “How fucking perfectly I fit inside of you. Feel that no other man’s cock can have you squirming with need and satisfy you at the same time.”

He pulled out and pushed back in, tilting her hips in the way she desired.

“This is the only cock that belongs between your legs, Feyre Darling.”

One of her hands reached up and slid into his hair, gripping it tightly in a way that made him grin.

“Mine is the only pussy for you.” Feyre muttered as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts — urging him to go faster. Harder.

“Possessive, love?” Rhys smirked, quickening his pace as her hips bucked against his.

“Yes,” Feyre admitted, tightening her grip in his locks. She loved making a mess of his hair. “I hate thinking about you and her. Together.”

Rhys growled and adjusted his position, gaining more leverage on the bed and thrusting harder.

Feyre gasped at the movement and opened her legs wider.

He grabbed one of her legs and bent it to her chest before placing it over his shoulder. Her heel sticking up in the air.

She cried out as he hit deeper inside of her — his hips creating a delicious friction as they ground against hers. “I pretend she’s you,” Rhys whispered harshly into her ear. “It’s the only way I can do it.”

Feyre gasped and clenched around his cock as he drove into her.

Their flesh coming together sounded through her room, wet and sharp and frantic.

His sweat slicked chest leaned closer to hers, pulling her leg back further and causing him to go deeper.

“Harder.” Feyre gasped, overwhelmed with how tight and full she felt — her nails unintentionally digging into his skin which caused him to grunt, his hips faltered as he drilled into her harder.

“I’m gonna come.” Rhys grunted, his hips pumping faster. He looked at her with a question in his eyes and Feyre said, “Come inside of me. I want to feel you,” Feyre brought his head down so that their foreheads were touching and stared him in the eyes as she tightly, intentionally clenched around him. “I need to feel you.”

Feyre turned her head so that her lips were on his neck. Her teeth right next to his pulse as she bit down.

Rhys shuddered as he pushed forward again, the walls of her pussy clenching his cock as he came deep inside of her — shallowly rocking against her. He brought his hand between their hips and pressed his thumb against her aching clit, so that both of them were coming at the same time.

He pulled back, and fell onto the bed next to her, breathless.

Their sweaty bodies pressed against each other, and their heavy, humid pants were loud in the air

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys said, and Feyre turned her head to find him already gazing at her. “I hope you didn’t think that was it for tonight.”

— —

They didn’t sleep.

Rhysand took her two more times before the early morning sun started to stream through her windows — and it wasn’t until Rhysand pushed off the bed that Feyre realized she was drifting off.

“You’re leaving.” Feyre said, her eyes gliding along the length of his bronze body. Tucking away the mental image so she wouldn’t forget — She took note of every mark she left on him. The claw marks down his back. The half-moon indents on his ass cheeks. The purple love bite on his throat.

“Believe me,” Rhys said, walking over to her desk and picking up his pants from the night before. “I would rather stay in bed with you all day.”

“You can.” Feyre blurted out as she sat up, clutching her quilt and sheets to her chest. Suddenly feeling shy.

Rhys turned to face her fully, his cock shamelessly on full display. His abs well defined and tight and Feyre found herself wanting to lick them.

She quickly looked away and accidentally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and cringed.

Rats nest. She could hear her mothers voice in her ear venomously whispering about her hair, tangled and messy from the friction of her pillow. Her full smoky makeup smeared black around her eyes, and lipstick stained on her lips and chin.

She cursed herself for letting Mor do her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Feyre Darling.” Rhysand said as he stepped into his pants.

“I look—”

“Well and truly fucked,” Rhys smirked as he shrugged into his shirt. “By me.”

Feyre fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Her nails nervously picking at a stitch on her quilt.

“What happens now?” Feyre asked, gazing at him and tucking her chin onto her bent knees.

He stared at her for a moment, tucking his shirt into his pants before finding his belt.

He looked absurdly good on no sleep — his black hair deliciously tousled, and a heady warmth spread through her knowing she was the one who tousled his hair. And his skin perfectly tan and even, not even purple smudges under his eyes.

Rhys looked like a fucking cologne ad.

Feyre could see him on the page of a magazine modeling for some overpriced scent that smelled like sex and citrus. He did always smell good. But he didn’t need the money.

He took a step closer to her after putting his shoes on, and as he approached her he lifted her face to look up at him. His fingers touching her chin delicately.

“What happens now is that you trust me, Feyre Darling. Even though you shouldn’t.”

Rhys brought their mouths together and Feyre felt a bit of her anxiety melt away.

“When will I see you again?” She asked.

“You still have my number?” Rhys asked and Feyre nodded in confirmation. “I’ll call you, but there is something I need you to know, love,” Rhys laid his forehead against hers, and Feyre felt her heart stop and tumble into her stomach at the intensity of his gaze. “I’ll be thinking about you the entire time we are apart.”

——

Tagging: @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @alwayssara @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes @magnolia-blossom87 @sheena-beene @nivem565 @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99 @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul

#feysand #feysand month #feysandmonth22 #feysand month 2022 #feysand fic #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #fawnandshadows writing #fawnandshadows fanfic #I listened to you’re so vain 48 hours straight as I wrote this😀#which isn’t a bad thing #I love feysand so much #I want to write more of them 🥹#this was my first time writing feysand so please be nice 🫶🏻#feysand month 22 #feyre x rhysand #Feyre x rhys

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 2 years

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Edit: I am trans masc and don't use this design anymore! You can still like but please do not reblog 💙🏳️‍⚧️

Tip Tip and their stand Sapphire Heart!

Lore I came up with... (Suspend disbelief because this is a half joke/comfort/fun universe)

Dio Brando was bored af one day and decided that his mansion was severely lacking in portraits of himself. So he wanted to find somebody who would be a full time live-in artist who would draw pictures of him or whatever he wanted for a shit ton of money. That's where Tippy comes in. Tippy won the art contest because Dio thought their art was funny.

(EDIT: Changed it a little bit. Dio wanted a stand user specifically. So he asked people to redraw one of 8 pictures of him. Tippy was the only one who could see his stand and drew him alongside Dio. So he was like,"Cool we got ourselves a stand user now..." It turns out it wasn't Dio's stand, it was Cream as a substitute because Dio didn't want anyone seeing The World just yet. Also I crossed some things out. I might actually make a short one off fanfic about the Sapphire Heartverse in the future!)

One of the requirements to live in Dio's mansion is that you have to have a stand. Tippy has Sapphire Heart but doesn't like to use them unless it's just for fun. Dio told Vanilla to keep an eye on Tippy and make sure they don't get into any trouble, as well as protect them. Tippy became real annoying real fast to Vanilla and got into a bunch of shenanigans that drove him up a wall. Tippy didn't like to be watched all hours of the day by some weirdo in a leotard, so they would sometimes use invisibreak to get away from him.

One day, Tippy used invisibreak for too long and fainted in front of Vanilla. Luckily he caught them in his arms and stayed with them until they came to. Vanilla asked wtf that was all about and they explained to him that they don't know how to use that ability without passing out.

Vanilla realizes that they may have a similar type of stand... He reveals that he used to not be able to use Cream that well- Tippy laughs because his stand's name is funny. It wasn't so funny once they saw how fucking terrifying that thing was. Slowly but surely, Vanilla taught Tippy how to use their stand to their benefit better than escaping from him and stealing things.

Dio grew quite fond of Tippy as a friend and would often give them gifts and coo over how precious he finds them. Vanilla would be silently jealous of all the attention they got which would result in the two arguing and calling one another names.

Vanilla's go to insult would be to call Tippy "Termite" because of how short they are compared to him (Vanilla: 6'7, Tippy: 5'3). Tippy's insult for him would be "Lucky Charms" because of all the charms and pendants he wears. Though they fight a lot, they don't seem to mind each other's company for the most part. The two find ways to irritate the hell out of each other, sometimes on purpose, sometimes on accident.

Sometimes Hol Horse would just hang out with Tippy while they draw and would talk about anything and everything. They were actually friends way before Tippy got hired by Dio... Hmmmmm

Tippy's relationship with Dio got stronger as he began to talk to them more and more. The vampire asked about their life and how they like it there so far. The blonde admired their enthusiasm and became enchanted by them. Tippy and Dio soon had nightly chats and their company was greatly welcomed by Dio. After a while, he finally decided to take them on a date and had Vanilla cook a nice dinner with wine for them. Dio confessed his feelings in his own way and Tippy was very flattered and fell for him as well. Vanilla watched all this and, though he was happy for his Lord Dio, he wished so badly he could have been the one in his arms.

Dio overheard Tippy and Vanilla talking and would watch them interact with each other. He thought their little rivalry was quite charming and kind of shipped them tbh-

He could tell the two, though they seemed to have a surface dislike for each other, really enjoyed hanging out together. Dio devised a plan to get them to fall in love with each other, so he would do all kinds of things involving stopping time and putting Vanilla and Tippy into fun little situations to get them even closer.

One time Dio made Tippy fall off a ladder to see if Vanilla would catch them. Vanilla didn't hesitate to save them and got all flustered when Tippy thanked him. He's always had a soft side for the little termite.

Dio would frequently talk to the both of them together and tease them, suggesting that they might be in a relationship. He would call it an "office romance" and tell Vanilla to bring his "little lover" into his office so he could speak to them.

Dio's plan finally came into fruition when he found Vanilla and Tippy kissing in the hallway. Vanilla thought his lord would be enraged but, to his surprise, Dio was ecstatic and even yelled,"YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS, N'DOUL!! Oh that's right, he can't hear me." To which N'Doul yelled back,"I'M BLIND NOT DEAF, YOU IDIOT- I MEAN MR DIO SIR."

And after the good ending happened, Tippy and Vanilla decided to travel the world together and get married 💙💜

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rwbyworldofremnant · 1 year

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Character Infodumps - Penny Polendina

Starting out with one of my personal favorite characters, let's talk about Penny Polendina.

Above right here, I've linked her character theme song.

Essentially, the song talks about how Penny meeting Ruby really changed her life for the better and helped her to see her self-worth.

In the second stanza of the song, it mentions how Penny wished upon stars each night, desperately hoping for "just one kind soul with a heart of gold" and then references how Ruby came along and changed everything.

Then, in the seventh stanza, the lines "You saw my soul through the nuts and bolts" and "You're the friend I can trust, helped me see I'm not just a machine" references how being friends with Ruby helped Penny to finally discover and see her own worth.

And, now for the lines that really melt my heart...

"Even if I can't live for real, it was worth it to know you"

"A chance to share the world to be a girl who finally felt alive"

"I been combat-ready since the day Dad made me now I'll fight for something more"

"I've got friends I'm fighting for"

"The warmth of a smile that stays for a while the face of a friend that won't leave"

"You'll never face this world alone I'll be right here, it's you and me"

Now, I wanna talk about something a little personal. It's related to me being autistic.

When I first watched RWBY in middle school, I really, really loved Penny's character and found her relatable, but I just couldn't describe why. Well, years later, I think I've figured it out.

I didn't find out for sure that I was autistic until around 9th or 10th grade, but when I started learning more about it everything started to make sense.

Like me, Penny had a hard time making friends. People thought that she was weird, and team RWBY was no exception. Of course, they did come around after a little bit, but when they first met her they seemed to have found her a little too enthusiastic.

I personally headcanon Penny as autistic, and I feel like she's the side of the spectrum that has a tendency to come off as "too passionate" or "too intense", which can sometimes scare people off. I think I might have a similar effect on people myself.

Also, her inability to recognize certain social things. I couldn't see it when I first watched RWBY as an ignorant middle schooler, but upon re-watching the series in it's entirety fairly recently, it was extremely evident to me. I guess I've learned to mask better/assimilate with neurotypical social stuff over the years? Or maybe the reason I picked up on it this time was because I was finally able to explain why and how I related to her? I'm hoping it was the latter.

I also want to take a moment to say a few things about Penny and her dad, Pietro.

I find it so beautifully tragic how he gave up permanent parts of his own aura - basically his own life force - to create and bring Penny back to life. It's very touching. Don't we all wish we had a dad like that?

And not just that, but let's take a second to think about how he actually treats her like a living being with thoughts and feelings. I think in most medias when somebody builds a robot or anything akin to that, even if it's fully capable of forming it's own opinions and such, it usually ends up getting treated like it's nothing more than an object meant to exist solely to perform a specific task. But, Pietro treats her with respect and care as if she'd really been born a human girl with flesh and blood, and I just find something about that to be so sweet.

Anyways, that's all I've got. Maybe one day I'll update/edit this post or make a new-and-improved version, but for now this is what I have to say about Penny.

Not sure if that many people will even see this, but if you did, hope you liked it and have a nice day! :3

#rwby #penny polendina #rwby penny #autistic spectrum #autistic headcanon #autism #autistic coded character #pietro polendina #ruby rose #rwby characters #Spotify

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bearpillowmonster · 10 months

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Andor

Finally got around to watching Andor and it's like, you see these normal everyday things that aren't necessarily in the rulebook NOT to appear in Star Wars but just weird first inclusions. Like cereal, it looks like they took Trix and put in a retro styled canister. Tags on the blasters. Mon Mothma is...a mom with family drama? I mean it all makes sense but just unwritten, surreal to see real. We see more of these people's home life than anybody else in the franchise. Even the Thrawn trilogy had that little bit of Earth with Lando's Hot Chocolate but Andor does it all the time, too much, too fast.

Much like Solo, nobody really asked for an Andor series but I thought of potential ways they could go about it, there's just...ok, if Cassian is a master of disguise, I'd like to see him do different things but he's just an Imperial Officer again. Ok, so it could work if he does this regularly in order to smuggle whatever it is in and out, gives him experience with the knowledge we have of Rogue One but it's not like that either, it's just- "I did this once before." Ok, maybe he has knowledge from a prison? There is a prison but he apparently already knew all this by that point. We have nothing to base it on.

We should've seen the prison earlier and then that could explain a heck of a lot more in terms of motivation and fear. Even then, I understand the reason him being arrested is kind of to show the iron grip of the empire but wouldn't it have been more satisfying if Andor was set up as the sacrifice for that mission in the name of the "rebellion", then it would make sense for him to come out and do what he does and have everyone hunt him. Or maybe he gets in the way of the rebellion, making Rogue One his one true act, I don't know but to me it just makes more sense to do it any other way.

A search for his sister sounds like a good premise at the beginning but it goes on and on and it doesn't seem to go anywhere. It correlates with these flashbacks that they abandon soon after. I know someone is going to point out "Oh, that's because he gave up on that quest, because of that line that Maarva says." but that's just nulling the plot (almost like leading you to believe that Rey is a somebody to say that she's a nobody to reveal that she's a somebody again) even the director was like "Yeah, I'm not really concerned with exploring that for S2 either." And it banks on that S2 happening even after the rocky road this one apparently went on. It's split into sections, here's the escape arc, here's the rebellion arc, here's the prison arc so the story is a little all over the place. One thing didn't necessarily lead to another, they can be their own contained things.

And oh? Someone instills the disguise thing into him? So is it like a shapeshifting clawdite? Nope, just a human with a wig sometimes. I know this is going to sound funky because I've complained about the overabundance of creatures given attention in the latest Star Wars material but there's an underwhelming lack in this one, like very few actual aliens. And it's the longest live action Star Wars series thus far, which is fine, we've kind of wanted more episodes with something but I can't help but feel-

Ok, so everybody said that Kenobi should've been a movie. Cool, fine, dandy, it was originally written as one and it was stretched out to meet Disney+ subscriptions then a fan re-edited it to fit that format and the fanbase loved it, he even changed some design choices that fans didn't like and I even hear that Disney approached him to come work for them. Happy Ending. But with this series, it can be boring, a lot can be cut and I get that it's meant to be a character piece but I feel it'd be so much better that since we see the perspective of a certain villain that maybe we should've just seen his failures and then him lead up to this big bad towards the end after Cassian has taken everything away from him rather than a bunch of scenes with his MOTHER and doing whatever else. Let me see him be pitiful and unsure but don't show me him wallowing in that way. I just can't help but feel this could've benefited from being a movie too AS MUCH AS I'D HATE TO SAY IT because it certainly didn't need to be a movie (as I mentioned) but it might just fit that format easier for someone like me. So if you're not a fan of the Senate scenes in the prequels then stand down because this is going to be flat. I didn't have trouble watching the slow burn of Dune or Avatar but this, I did and I took it relatively weekly as if it was airing. All that time with the nerdy Empire guy and I can't even remember his name...that's bad. And that goes the same for a lot of the other characters that I forgot their names already because they don't really use them or weren't relevant enough to warrant.

About a third of this show is actually entertaining and that's normally when it's actually focused on Cassian or Caleen, leaving the remaining two thirds to the other characters. I chose pictures without Cassian on purpose. And there IS a K2 unit in here but it's not THE K2 unit, so you never figure out how they meet, which seems like a no brainer as far as a prequel series should go. Worse than Boba Fett, making it the worst live action series thus far for me.

Was there a highlight in all this? What was my favorite? I thought the prison was interesting but could've been better. The actual payoff for the heist was the only part that I could see being memorable. With the actual star war and the betrayal and I don't know why that guy decided to lay where he did on take-off but sure, okay.

#how is this supposed to be the best series #not good #boring #star wars #i got my hopes up #only because you said to #why #andor #sw #it goes against some of the ideals #like how love always wins #but what's it supposed to mean when #'people do dirty stuff to protect their family'#or the do or do not there is no try #or in rogue one when 'it has to!'#in this series they say 'just try'

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wikagirl · 11 months

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Heya um, I know that some of followers of the @elliehodunk blog also known as James follow me too and probably read about their current situation and I'll be real with you I feel very responsible for parts of their current emotional distress.

I was unaware that the extremely disrespectfull minor that caused them enough distress to delete their previous blog was someone that I had been mutuals with for about a month up until today (28th of may) when I saw them actually being mentioned in the tags of one of the posts about the whole thing as the cause.

I unfollowed and blocked said person as out of respect for James and apologized to them via dms for the damage I feel I have caused.

At first I was not going to tag them in this post because they are currently on a well deserved break from this site and I didn't want to disturb them but since this is about them it felt wrong to basicly...hide it? by not tagging them. I just felt the need to explain why some of this is happening because I feel like I am at fault to some extend at least, how far that extend is is not for me to judge.

But James you are seeing this: hi, I hope you're doing better or at least getting to feeling better. Please tell me if you want this deleted and it will be gone as soon as I see the message, it might be a couple hours tho since we live on different ends of the globe and my sleeping hours overlap with your main activity time. a simple "plz delete" it more than ehough.

EDIT: I feel like I should also add that none of this was done with malicious intent from my end. I personally don't harbour any bad feelings against the person mentioned above, I simply chose to cut ties because I felt it was hurting somebody else I value greatly. They are a minor smack dab in the middle of growing and if you're frontal lobe isn't fully developed yet you tend to do some stupid in hindsight pretty shitty stuff. I sure as shit did too. My actions came to be from me wanting to be a friend and support somebody who I, a at the time total stranger, beared my soul to upon our first interaction and they still chose to be mutuals with me, not a place of hatered.

Thought I should mention that too just in case somebody get the wrong picture from this.

#hmmmmmm I hope this doesn't come off like I'm trying to make this about myself #I'm just trying to take responsibility for my actions even if they were unintentional #it's midnight now. I had this drafted for a while and planned to post it earlier but I had to help my parents outside of the house #and wanted to re-read it first to make sure it's appropriate and then proceeded to get hit by anxiety about posting it #but here it is. I'm still anxious about it is what it is #I even screenrecorded me unfollowing and blocking them as well as leaving their discord in case anyone demands proof #I've actually had the other not the minor person that is causing them such distress blocked for quite some time #or at least that's what I thought but turns out they have a second account but I don't think I've ever interacted with them #or at least I couldn't find any interactins (like reblogs) with them started from my side while combing through my archive just to be safe #personally I hope that james and I can still be mutuals/friendly with eachotherin the future #but if they decide that's not possible then I will accept their decition and respectfully take a dip #I'm going to pin this to the top for a bit but I'll probably un pin it after like a week or two I feel like that's enough time #or I'll delete it if james asks me to since this is about them

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

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The Bad Batch - Quart d’Heure Américain

Summary: In French, we use the expression “quart d’heure Américain” (lit. “American quarter”; I think it’s “Lady’s choice” in English) to talk about that moment during an evening out/ a party where they play slows and couples dance together (very sweet and romantic, yes)

So here is the Quart d’Heure Américain, Bad Batch Edition™

Pairing: Crosshair x reader; Echo x reader; Hunter x reader; Tech x reader; Wrecker x reader; the Bad Batch x reader

Reader description: f!reader [she/her], no real physical description

Word Count: 5463 words

CW/ TW: Nothing, just pure fluff and cute relationships (some established, one not quite yet) also there’s a LIL BIT of someone being sad/ a LIL BIT in pain BUT promise it doesn’t last and it gets all soft

Tags: @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @allamarisss

@imalovernotahater @murdertoothpick (if you want to be added to the tag list for future stories/ if you want to be removed and not tagged again, please let me know! )

Notes: This is for you all, because you deserve it and I hope it’ll sooth whatever you need soothed; and here is a quote that quite grasp the concept of this small fic

“Quand je danse, je danse” –Montaigne (“when I dance, I dance”; enjoy the moment and don’t think about anything else)

Crosshair: Something Stupid – Nancy Sinatra, Frank Sinatra (1177 words)

Had someone asked you beforehand, you never would have been able to tell that Crosshair was an amazing dancer. You didn’t expected him to invite you out that night, especially not when everyone in town was speaking about this Dancing Night. But he did, and now he was next to you, moving like he had done it all his life.

“You’re doing great, mesh’la,” he complimented as you tripped on your feet.

“I already told you,” you nodded a thank you when he helped you get back up, “I don’t understand Mando’a.”

Well, you did, but only a few words. You grew used to them, because Crosshair would use them all the time when speaking to you, but never once did he told you what they meant. So you did what every logical person would have done, and asked Tech.

“Well, mesh’la could be translated to ‘beautiful’, and cyare to something like ‘love’ or ‘my heart’. Why you asking?”

“I heard that on the radio, in a song once and I just wanted to know what it meant. Thanks Tech!”

And you had left him as soon as he was done explaining their meaning to you, because the more you stayed here, the more he could guess why you really asked. But you didn’t want Crosshair to stop calling you mesh’la or cyare. It sounded so peculiar when he would whisper it close to your ear as he would walk behind you; “out of my way mesh’la”, “you truly are a lost cause, cyare”. It wasn’t really a lie not to tell him you knew; more of a covered truth.

The song changed and went from a catchy tone to a slower, more sensual one. Crosshair waited for you to come to him before gently grasping your waist, a hand holding your own, fingers folded around yours. He pulled you closer, so close you could feel his chest moving according to his breath. You looked straight at him, trying to decipher his expression, to find any feeling uncovered behind those bewitching whisky eyes.

“Are you scanning me?” he softly asked.

“Maybe.” you confessed. “I want to know what’s going on behind this pretty face.”

It slipped out. You didn’t mean to say that; yes, he had a pretty face, yes you meant it, but-

“I think, about you mostly.”

Ho.

“You’re…pretty.” He sharply nodded, as a way to keep up his facade. You almost tripped over again, so taken aback by his little confession.

“Sorry,” you muttered, “sorry, I- that’s very… very kind of you to say.”

He didn’t say anything, but the grip on your waist tightened. You decided to try it, and slowly came to rest your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating, muffled by the layers of skin and cloth. You felt a cold spot on your waist, and a hand brushing your hair off of your face, tucking them behind your ear before resting on your shoulder.

You couldn’t yet guess it, but he was craving for more, he wanted you closer to him, wanted to bury his face in your neck, hum your scent and kiss you all the way to your jawline, your cheek, the tip of your nose; and your lips.

But never once did he flinch, or let out any sign of his heart bleeding to feel you so close, yet so out of reach. Instead he held you there, slowly leading the dance, almost silently telling you to “move left, come back to me, and left again; great job mesh’la”.

He couldn’t yet guess it, but you were craving for more. More Mando’a’s nicknames, more gentle touch on your face and body, maybe a bit of appreciation in his eyes, a bit of love on his mouth.

And you thought you could hold on, spend the night glued to his body, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the delicacy of his moves; and still be able to pull out a straight face, to pretend mesh’la and cyare were unknown words to you, that your heart wasn’t racing at the sole thought of getting more.

But you didn’t.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”.

It slipped out tenderly, purposefully. And this time, he almost tripped on his feet.

“What did you say?”

You raised your head, taking a small step back to look at him in the eyes.

“I said I love you, but I guess my accent sucks a bit. I- I asked Tech about it last time.” You confessed in a small voice.

Crosshair couldn’t even speak anymore. He completely stopped moving, staring at you like you were the only one here, with him.

“Look, we can just…forget about it if yo-”

“Shut up.”

Your eyes widened at the command, and nothing could have prepared you to the devastatingly exquisite sensation of his lips brushing against yours before completely diving in. Nothing could compare to the fire in your belly, to the sweet bite on your lower lip, his teeth briefly pulling on it before letting go; and the overwhelming sensation filling your mouth as his tongue caressed yours in a heated, terribly slow kiss.

None of you could pull away; if he tried to release your lips, you would dive right back in, and if you gasped for air he would barely give you time to breathe before coming back to you. He couldn’t resist the urge to hold you tight in his arms, and you were too afraid of letting go so you firmly held his face against yours.

You felt his weight shifting to the left, then to the right, and once again you followed his lead. You felt it, the uncontrollable grin against your mouth, and the way he spin round with you, making sure no one else but you existed in that moment.

When you finally let go of each other, you were both heavily breathing, and a mutual stare was enough to get you both chuckling like kids.

Yes, you loved him, with all of your heart and soul, and you would gladly learn more Mando’a if it got you that type of enthusiastic reaction every time you did so.

“Your accent is actually quite cute,” he managed to tell you, and your smile only grew wider, and his eyes only got lovelier. “But maybe you should say it again, just in case it was luck.”

“I sure will, but I think I need you to tell me; how do you say it, again?”

He shook his head, both defeated and amused.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”, you repeated, and he nodded in approval. “I think I won this round.”

“You did.”

He grabbed your arms and pulled you closer, leaving small misses on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and your lips. The song was over; it had been for a few minutes now; but you didn’t care. Crosshair was still dancing with you, his hands on your back, a smile on his face; and maker he was even more handsome when he smiled. You had him, and he had you, and you were glad you said something as stupid and childish, and sincere and deep as this.

I love you.

Echo: Everybody Loves Somebody – Dean Martin (1168 words)

“Alright, open your eyes.”

Echo’s voice tickled your ear, making you smile. Your eyes had no trouble getting used to the light outside; it was dusk already, and a small campfire was gently crackling a few meters away from the Havoc Marauder. Earlier that day, you made a stop on an isolated planet to get some supplies and land foot for the night. It was a quiet place, mostly villages and beautiful landscapes, covered in grass, moss, and flowers like you’d never seen before.

Echo asked you to wait inside, and it had been almost an hour, but now that you were standing here…

“Is it…Did you do that for me?”

“I’d dare say for us,” Echo smiled, “today is a special day for us, remember?”

Ho.

“You forgot, right?”

“Echo, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Don’t be! I kinda hoped you would, this way it could be a real surprise for you.”

You couldn’t quite tell what about him always got you flustered. Maybe the way he was fondly looking at you, or the softness in his voice when he whispered “Surprise!”, or how he left your side for a moment, bending over the blanket to grab a small package before giving it to you.

“I don’t have anything for you,” you quietly confessed.

“Take it.”

You accepted the gift, giving him another look of apology, but all you saw in his eyes was…something soft – soft and loving.

You carefully unwrapped the paper, exposing a Tooka plush, proudly wearing the colours of the Bad Batch.

“I thought it was more than time for you to have your own.” he said as he got closer to you, a smile glued to his face. “Do you like it?”

You barely nodded, too occupied trying to decipher your gift. The limbs were gracefully mixing a red and black pattern, and the symbol of the Republic’s paramedic had been carefully stitched in white, where the heart should be. You softly stroke it, the tip of your finger following the edges of the seam.

“I.. I love it,” you couldn’t help but smile at the attention. “I’ll call him Handsome Jr.”

“Whatever pleases you, love.”

You shifted you attention to Echo, the lovely grin on his face making your heart melt even more. You closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist, just above his prosthetics. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head.

“I’ll get you something tomorrow, I’ll be up before the sun.”

“I already have everything I need, cyare.”

“Echo…,” you chuckled, “I don’t want you to get nothing. It’s an important date for us.”

“Well, if you insist…There is something you could do for me.”

“Anything, Handsome.”

He waited an instant, savouring your embrace.

“Would you dance with me? The way we did that night?”

You remembered that night. It was quite some time ago, before the Citadel. Echo invited you to the base you were both settled in for the night, on Corusant. His general gave his troopers a night off, and his first thought was to take you out on a date. You remembered the way Fives came up your office, panting, still fully armoured, and asked you to follow him. You didn’t know it at the time, but Echo and some of his brothers were taking care of decorating and preparing dinner.

You remembered the cantina being empty, except for a table with two plates and beautiful flowers in a glass way too small for them; and how every clone you had crossed path with in the hallway innocently smiled at you. They knew, obviously, but none of them made any comment, only wishing you a good night.

You remembered Echo, blacks on and slightly stylised for the occasion, offering his hand to you for a dance. And you repeated the answer you gave him that night.

“Of course, Handsome. I’d love that.”

He took a step back, looking at you intensely, falling in love all over again with the shape of your face, the light in your eyes, and the delicacy of your lips. He wanted to kiss them, so badly, but there was still something to do before that.

A static sound resonated behind you, and a voice emerged from it.

“Not that- The other one, Tech.” Echo threw a look at his brother, who was already changing the station, until he got the right one. He then barely let slip a “Pretend I don’t exist.” before disappearing inside the ship.

“Sounds familiar,” you joked, thinking about the way Fives did the same things all those years ago.

“Some things never change, right?”

You didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence; his eyes were speaking for him. He brought you closer, his prosthetic arm gently pressing your waist as his left hand held yours. The Citadel changed him, but deep down he was; and would always be, your Echo.

“You’re so beautiful, my pretty boy,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Some things indeed never change.”

He chuckled and started moving his legs, inviting you to follow his lead. He never really had a chance to dance since he joined the Bad Batch, but tonight; tonight was all he needed. Holding you close, smelling your hair, delicately balancing you on your left, a step back, on your left, a step back…

“Your love made it worth waiting.”

You slowly raised your head until you could look at him. His eyes were shining, wet from the emotion, filled with adoration and fond memories of you both. You smiled, trying to swallow the knot forming in your throat. His hold on you was so gentle, his smile so sincere. You knew he was falling in love with you all over again. You knew, because you were too.

You let your hand slide to his neck, pushed yourself on your tiptoes until you could feel his warm breath tickling your face. He tightened his grip, pressing his lips against yours, abandoning himself in your arms, making you feel like nothing but you mattered.

His kiss was gentle, he took the time to taste you, for the first time, the hundredth, the thousandth; it didn’t matter. Even after all these years, he couldn’t get used to the softness of your lips, the warmth of your tongue, the dizziness in his head and the knots in his stomach when you were confessing, wordlessly, your love for him.

Nothing broke you apart. The sun could go down, the song could stop, but none of it mattered, because all you truly needed was each other.

“Waiting for someone like you.” you finally replied.

“Waiting for you, and only you.”

You kissed him again, taking great delight in the sensation of your pounding heart, of his tongue against yours, of his hand letting go of yours to slim on your waist, down to you hip, finding his way to the back of your pant.

He was all you ever needed.

Hunter: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough – Marvin Gaye (989 words)

“Everyone, out, let’s go.”

Hunter waved his hand toward the door, a tired, maybe a bit painful expression glued to his face. Hi brothers obeyed, knowing what it meant, and left the room in silence. You tried to copy them, because you knew Hunter was getting overwhelmed by his senses; it happened sometimes, and you knew you couldn’t sooth his pain by remaining with him. But he firmly pressed his hand against your chest.

“Not you.”

Echo closed the door behind the two of you, giving you a sympathetic look before disappearing behind the grey metal sliding. Hunter tilted his head back until it touched the cold wall behind him, letting a long sigh slip from between his lips.

“Could you turn off the light, please?” he barely whispered to you, eyes closed.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t say, and switched the light off. All that remained was the small, dim blue light above your head. Tech had it installed after a bad power cut that lasted three days. Hunted asked for the blue shade, because it was the one which was the less aggressive to his eyes. You liked it, because it nicely highlighted his features, blending his tattoo a bit more with his skin, making the marking look almost natural.

You could hear him, deeply inhaling, slowly exhaling; probably trying to sooth the pain away. After a moment, he opened his hand to you, and you gently took it, slightly stroking the skin on his palm with the tip of your thumb.

“Love you.”

You softly kissed his knuckles.

“Missed you, too.”

His voice was barely breaking the silence of the room, but you still heard him relaxing a bit more.

“Can you hug me, sweetheart?”

He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, even if he truly wanted to. He managed to cut off sound and light, because he wanted to focus on your touch, and your touch only. And it felt great when your arms delicately wrapped him, when your body pressed against his, holding still as you listened to his heartbeat.

“Is it okay like this?” you asked, and he nodded, a light smile on his face. “I love you too.”

He straightened up his head, blindly stroking your back, his hand getting lower and lower…

“I see what this was all about.” And the smile in your voice betrayed you, and the chuckle he let out showed you he felt a bit better.

“I just wanted some time with you, sweet thing” Hunter stated, innocent.

“Well, here I am now, pretty boy.”

He finally opened his eyes, taking a few seconds to get used to the lighting, but immediately shifting his attention to you, your face. You were another kind of beautiful; the kind he could hold against him at night when he had troubles sleeping; the kind that could sit on his lap, telling him all about your day while he stroked your hair; the kind of beautiful that he never knew he could have.

He gave you a soft kiss, humming your scent as his lips brushed yours, and you tried as hard as you could not to make it too much for him. But how could you, when he tightened his embrace, humming to you that song you liked so much, when you could feel his warm breath against the crook of your neck, and his low, slightly raspy whispering in your ear.

“From that day on, I made a vow…” a kiss on your skin, “I’ll be there when you want me…” another kiss, gentle, loving.

He pushed himself away from the wall, his head buried against you, singing to you the way you liked it, and it came naturally to you both. He balanced you one side, you came back and led him to the other side, and you kept going like this, following the low rhythm of his voice, barely giggling when he would – more or less in a dramatic and theatrical movement – bend you over like in those holomovies, pressing kisses against your neck, your jawline, crawling his way back to your mouth.

That mouth. Hunter missed it so much, the way you moved it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your tongue, and the tight embrace as you tried to remember each curve, each spot; barely biting his lip to let you know you were here, you missed him too.

And you couldn’t help but fall in love again when he kept humming against you, when he led your hands to his lower back, a grin painting itself as they slid down the back of his pants.

“I love your heart,” he told you, lips on your skin, “the way it beats. I hear it pumping faster when I hold you, and- maker, I love it.”

He abandoned your neck for a moment, diving into your eyes like it was the first time ever, hypnotised by the blue reflection on your iris.

“I love you, the way you feel under my fingers,” he touched your face with the tip of his thumb, “the way your brush your hair over your shoulder, how you always come back to me when the lights are out and the night is still; I love you and your smile,” you granted him one, tender and oh so caring, “and your eyes, and your mouth. I love how you move your hips when you dance with me, how you crave for closeness, and how I can’t do anything but offer it to you every time, all the time.”

And you knew words couldn’t possibly offer a good answer, so you simply hummed back.

“Nothing could keep me from getting to you, baby.”

He let out a sweet laugh, kissing your nose and the top of your head, seeking for your embrace once again as you led him dancing.

“I know, sweetheart.”

And I love you for that, too.

Tech: My Guy (Single Version) Mary Wells (1078 words)

You didn’t expected Tech to ask you out tonight. He was usually quite content living around the Marauder, but when you walked next to that clothing shop, something ticked in him. He dragged you in, told you all about the different tissues, how the colours were applied, how the stitches on this dress were obviously done by Twi’leks because you see that little knot? This is a signature from the crafters, more precisely from the members of a tribe that moved around…

You loved hearing him talking. Sometimes you would ask him a question, fully aware of the answer, simply because you were eager to hear it coming from him. And every time, without any hesitation, he would answer with as much precision as possible. He probably didn’t know it, but it was one of the reason you fell for him.

“What about this one, cyar’ika?”

“This one would fit you perfectly.” he had held the dress against your body, bending his back to get a better look at it. “The colour matches your skin tone and the shape would really highlight the curves of your hips.”

“Then I’ll take this one.” You had nodded with a smile.

And now, a few hours later, you were wearing said dress while walking to the counter of the restaurant to order another drink. As the bartender was pouring a blue liquid in a fancy glass, a man smoothly accosted you.

“Were you sculpted out of Kyber crystal? Because you sure bring some light in here.”

“Thanks, but it’s mostly because my cyare chose that dress for me,” you confessed.

“Well, he sure have good tastes,” he took a step back and pursued, “may I ask which one of these…?”

He threw a look at the tables around, and you pointed to the one where Tech was visibly waiting for you, waving when he noticed you looking at him.

“Is it…Is it him?”

“It is indeed,” you fondly smiled.

“Well, at least he got some taste in dresses and women,” he conceded, visibly surprised by his “intellectual” look. But you couldn’t care less, because he didn’t had Wrecker’s body, or Hunter’s features; but he had soft shapes and sweet lips, he knew everything there was to know, and even more, because he loved learning almost as much as he loved you.

You grabbed your drinks and started walking away, only turning around to slide a little “Glad you recognise it” before returning to your table. When you pushed his glass in front of him, Tech gently grasped your hand.

“Thank you for the drink,” he glanced at your body, a little something lightening his eyes, “and for buying that dress. You really are the prettiest.”

“I couldn’t be that pretty if I didn’t have you to tell me all about cloths, you know.”

“Love, you could wear sheets and you’d still be the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.”

You slightly bent over, bringing his hand close to your lips, kissing his knuckles as a thank you. There was a brief silence, Tech analysing every inch of your face, so focused on the curves of your lips and the shape of your eyes that he stopped talking.

And you heard it. The soft music playing in a corner of the room. When you looked behind Tech, you noticed a jukebox, and a few people dancing. You got up, pulling on Tech’s arm to drag him with you to that part of the room. He tried to protest, but the way you moved in that dress, how it fell oh so delicately on your knees… He couldn’t resist.

He grabbed your waist, offering you a soft kiss on the cheek as you started swinging in rhythm, left, right, left, right, and a turn. In a second, you were barely touching his hand, and then you were pulled against him, spinning round until you crushed in his arms.

He chuckled, bewitched by your smile, your movements, and you could tell he only had eyes for you. Truth be told, he was all you could focus on too. Nothing could take your attention off your guy, because nothing could equal his lovely smile or the soft kisses he landed on your lips every time he pulled you against him before letting you spin away in rhythm.

“Cyar’ika, tell me all about dance.” You asked, panting a bit.

“Well, you have to be more precise, because there are a lot of dances out there,” he laughed, and you felt your heart melting at the warmth of his voice.

“Then tell me about all of them. Tell me about this one,” and you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing slowly to calm your racing heart.

“This one would be a form of slow dancing, quite far from the twists and swings you did earlier,” he confessed in your ear, making you shiver. “but initially it was a- well, it depends of the planet actually, but it was originally a ritual to make official a relationship between different people.”

“So if you danced with someone, it meant you had a certain relationship with them?”

He firmly grabbed your waist, lifting you for a few seconds as he turned round.

“Exactly, it meant you shared a profound bond with them, that you were able to get comfortable with them being very close to you…”, he let you spin away from him, “or very far.”

You proudly smiled at him, letting go of his hand and taking a step back. He understood what you intended to do and grounded himself, catching you up without any problem as you run into his arms.

“Well,” you muttered in the crook of his neck, “I don’t want to be far from you, smart boy.”

“And I don’t want you away from me, pretty girl.”

You lifted your head to look at his eyes, filled with love and appreciation. The music stopped as you filled the gap between the two of you, kissing him with the same energy you had dancing. You could feel him smiling against your lips, carrying you like you weighted nothing until you let go, sliding back onto your feet.

You kissed him once again, a gentler contact, taking your time to memorize the shape of his mouth, the soft touch of his hands on your hips, the smooth tone he used to tell you how fitting this dress was.

Yeah, nothing could compare to your guy, your Tech.

Wrecker: You Aksed Me To Be Yours – The Tymes (972 words)

You knew the mission was rough when Wrecker struggled to give you a full smile as you entered the cockpit. He was sitting there, all alone, and your heart got tight when you heard his low “hi, mesh’la”.

“You want to talk about it?”

He refused with a shake of his head, visibly upset.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No, I want you to stay. I- I need company.”

You quietly nodded, offering your hand to him, which he held close to his heart. You kissed the top of his head, softly rubbing his check with your free hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself rest on the embrace, taking a long, deep breath.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, “t’was a long day without you.”

“I’m here now.”

The remark made him smile a bit, as he realised that you were indeed here with him. He pulled you closer to him to hug you, straightening in his seat so you wouldn’t have to bend too much to snuggle in his arms.

“You smell good. You always smell good, it’s amazing.”

You slightly blushed, letting out an amused sigh. Even when things went wrong, he always found something positive to comment on. People usually looked at him as the “big dummy”, but you knew how sensitive and emotionally invested he really was, under all the muscles and loud exclamations.

“Do you think we could, like…get up for a bit?” he asked, hesitant.

“Sure, everything’s fine?” You let go of his grip and helped him get up. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yeah, t’s’all fine,” he murmured, “I just wanted us to stand.”

You rubbed his back, slow movements tracing imaginary lines and shapes against his blacks. He let out a sigh, tired yet satisfied. You felt the upper part of his body move; slightly at first, rocking from one side to the other. When he felt you following his lead, and with the absence of any question or remarks, he marked a more regular pace in his balancing.

You started humming, lips barely touching the skin on his neck, your warm breath tickling him until a light shiver shook his back. You left kisses, here and there, still humming the song you heard on the radio earlier that day. It was a beautiful ballad, something sweet about love and closeness. You found parts of Wrecker in the lyrics, and knew you’d have to sing it to him.

It wasn’t the first time Wrecker did something like that. Usually he would do it before going to bed, or after a long time away from you. He would grip you tight, whispering soft words to your ear, telling you how much he missed you, how pretty you were, how lucky he felt to have you in his life. But this time, you wanted to make that first move.

“I see that love is there, so real and so true…”

You felt his fingers tighten, then relax. The rocking slowly turned into a dance, moving step by step, never following a precise direction. Your voice was a balm to him, healing the wounds no one could see, covering his heart with warmth and love.

He slightly let go of you, just enough to dive into your eyes, scrutinizing the details in your iris, the way light reflected on them, adding to the sparkle they usually carried. You could see how his attention shifted from your eyes to your lips, then your eyes again, and the delicacy in his silent ask. You gave him your most heartfelt smile, and he leaned toward you, kissing you in a tender, desperate way, as if something or someone would come in at any moment and rip you both away from each other.

You let his tongue meet yours, dancing the way your bodies were. His hands left your waist, raising to cup your face and pulls you even closer to him. You held his wrists, preventing him from pulling away, savouring the taste of love coming out of his mouth.

He only broke the kiss when he truly needed to breathe, deeply inhaling and exhaling. You couldn’t stop a chuckle, to which he grinned.

“I know, I know…”

“How do you expect to kiss me if you faint?”

“I don’t know!” he laughed, his nose wrinkling in such a lovely way. You could read through him like an open book, and now you just knew he was contemplating how beautiful, and soft, and delicate you were. “I don’t know, I just want you. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and dance with you all night.”

You pecked his scarred cheek, nodded in approval.

“Then let’s dance all night, and hold onto each other, and kiss you breathless.”

He relaxed the tension in his shoulders, visibly happier than when you arrived.

“Can you sing that song again? I really liked it.”

His eyes gleamed with happiness when you took back where you stopped. You couldn’t tell if you got all the lyrics right, but it didn’t matter to Wrecker. You were here, ready to spend the whole night on your feet just to make him feel better, and it was already working so well. But he never told you so, too content to hug you and kiss you and feel you.

And you, of course you knew. But you played along, because you loved him so dearly, so profoundly that you could spend every night in this cockpit, humming and swinging with him, as long as you could feel his breath on your neck, his hands stroking your hair and your back, his lips pressing against your skin, where he knew he could get a shiver from you.

“Thank you, cyar’ika.”

“Anything for you, ner Wrecker.”

Anything for you.

________________

I hope you guys enjoyed it; it's really not the angsty stuff I was supposed to work on (that I will do now) but I guess I just had a soft spot for the boys tonight and the songs I listened to didn't help getting over this idea!

#the bad batch fic #tbb fic #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #soft batch #soft tbb #sw writing #mesa writes #the bad batch writing #Soft Hour for the Boys

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

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DIWK - Chapter thirteen: "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new"

Words count: 16,5K

Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something that's already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. And then, she goes out with James. Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.

Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...

A/N: Ok, so... here we go!

Masterlist

Words count: 16,5K

Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. Will she go out with James? Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.

Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...

A/N: Ok, so... things are slowly but surely happening here.

---

Spencer's point of view

- "That doesn't make any sense!"- I nearly lost it at my medical appointment. To be fair, I was losing my sanity for the last week, but that day, that minute, I have had enough.

- "I'm not sure what you want me to say,"- the doctor frowned, confused by my reaction.

- "So there's nothing wrong?"

- "Well, your scans are perfectly normal, and there doesn't seem to be any physical explanation for your headaches."

- "Well, what do I do now?"- I was lost. I was hoping he could tell me there was something physically wrong with me that we could fix. But apparently, everything was ok.

- "Well, have you considered..."

- "Considered what?"- I knew what he was implying, but I didn't want to deal with that. The doctor sighed and simply just said it.

- "A psychosomatic cause."

- "Psychosomatic?"

- "It just means mental or emotional stress..."

I had to cut the doctor right there, 'cos it was nearly insulting that he thought he needed to explain to me what that meant.

- "I know what psychosomatic means, doctor, but it's not that."

- "Well, I think it's something we should consider."

- "It's not... I'm not crazy!"- but yes, I was going a little crazy at the time.

- "Crazy? Dr. Reid, I'm not saying..."- the professional stared at me, shocked, as I put on my satchel and stood up.

- "I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light because there's something wrong with me physically, not mentally. It's not that."

- "That?"

- "Listen, doctor, my mother's a paranoid schizophrenic who's been institutionalized, so I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you, and it's not that. It's not."

I walked to the door, but before I could leave or dramatically storm out, the doctor added one more thing.

- "Your headaches are more likely caused by stress due, I suspect, to your very consuming job. My recommendation is to take a few weeks off and have a real vacation. Disconnect from work, and relax. That's all."

The doctor seemed genuinely concerned, so I just nodded and walked out. My head was killing me, and to be honest, I wasn't thinking straight.

It was Thursday. My head was killing me. I hadn't spoken more than a handful of words with (Y/N) since last Friday, and to call it torture came short. It was consuming my whole life at that point. I hadn't slept more than maybe three hours that entire week. After we reached home from Miami, I focused on the paperwork and whatever request for information that crossed my desk.

But I wasn't blind, neither deaf nor stupid. No, I was stupid for wasting so many chances I had in almost five years to tell (Y/N) how much I loved her. Now I was doomed to look at her from a safe distance, as she enjoyed life with her new boyfriend. James.

I first heard his name Wednesday morning when a delivery boy showed up at the bullpen, asking for (Y/N). Everybody looked at her, and she blushed as she raised her hand, and the delivery boy gave her a small box and asked her to sign for the package.

- "What is that, pretty girl?"- Morgan asked when the delivery was gone, and he walked over to see what was into the box.

- "I have no idea... but it passed security, so I know it's not a bomb"- she chuckled and opened it.

- "Wow! Did you send her these, kid?"- Morgan looked at me chuckling, but as soon as he saw my serious expression, he frowned, confused.

- "This is incredible!"- it was the whole Jane Austen collection in a deluxe edition. It was gorgeous. She obviously loved it. And it came with a card.

- "Can't wait 'till Friday night. James"- Emily read out loud as (Y/N) stared at the box, blushing- "Ok missy, you have some explaining to do!"

But I didn't stick around to hear the rest of the story. I didn't need the torture. So I stood up and walked to the kitchenette to get another cup of coffee. And then I hid in the briefing room because I needed to be on my own for a while. I sat at the table and stared at my hands, trying to remain calm. I couldn't cry at work. I shouldn't show my true feelings when my friends were around. I didn't want them asking a million questions I didn't want to answer with the truth.

- "Sorry, man,"- Morgan said as he walked in and sat at the other side of the table- I thought you had sent her those books 'cos you have been acting all weird lately, and you were trying to get on her good side

- "Don't worry"- I tried to look cool and even smiled at Morgan, but he knew better than that.

- "So... how are you?"

- "I'm ok, you?"- I was annoyed already, but I knew there was no way out from that conversation

- "Kid, come on. You can talk to me."

- "There is nothing I wanna talk about right now. I am ok!"- I stood up and walked around the room, frustrated and trying not to yell.

- "Come on, Reid. It's getting painful to watch! You have to tell her how you feel!"- Derek stood up too, and I widened my eyes at his words, scared everybody downstairs might have heard us. I looked at the door; it was locked.

- "I don't want to talk about that now."

- "Man! Come on!"- but I passed by his side and ignored him, opening the door and basically running back to my desk.

From where I could clearly see (Y/N) blushing and staring at her books. Great.

That day went painfully slow. By the time I reached my apartment, I was exhausted both mentally and emotionally. My head was killing me, and all I wanted was to get under the covers of my bed with a book, a cup of herbal tea and make a massive effort to get some sleep.

Apparently, I was asking for too much. Ten minutes after my arrival, my bell rang, forcing my weary body to move from the couch to the door. Sadly, it wasn't (Y/N), the only person I wanted to see that minute. Instead, it was Ashley, and I had to pretend and smile when I saw her.

- "Hey! Am I interrupting something?"- she asked with a cheerful smile as she stood by the door and showed me a paper bag- I got some extra dumplings, and I thought you might like to share

- "Thank you, Ashley... but I already ate."- I lied and watched her leave the box on my table and take a look around- "Wait, where did you get my address?"

- "It's on the system."- she answered casually, and I frowned, thinking there had to be a better way to keep our information classified if we were FBI agents. Not that I didn't want Ashley to know where I lived, but... I just didn't want her there.

- "And what were you doing?"

- "Getting... really to bed, actually. I am weary."

- "And... Do you need any help?"- Ashley stood closer to me and smiled mischievously. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and even a little embarrassed with her proposal.

- "No, thank you, I'm ok."

But she didn't get the hint. Instead, she ran her tongue through her lips very slowly and rested her hands on my hips. My whole body aches at that touch. Not because I craved more, but because it made me feel nervous and uneasy. I didn't want her to touch me, but I didn't want to be rude.

- "You know, Spence, (Y/N) has a boyfriend now, and she definitely moved on with her life. Maybe you should start thinking about doing the same."

- "I'm sorry?"- I frowned as I stared at her silly grin. She thought she was flirting, but instead, she was actually hurting me.

- "I saw her Friday with Anderson's friend. She seemed to be having a great time. Maybe it's time you have fun too."- she leaned in and tried to kiss me, but I took three steps back and shook my head right away.

- "No, Ashley, it's not like that,"- she frowned, confused, and blushed, embarrassed immediately.

-" What? But I thought you... I thought you liked me."

- "I'm sorry, Ashley, but..."- I hesitated in my answer, trying to find the right ways to reject her. I had never rejected anyone before in my entire life. I have never been lucky with girls at all.

- "But what? You don't want me?"

No. I didn't want her. Not even a little. Not even at all. But I couldn't tell her that just upfront. I had to sugarcoat it. I didn't want to hurt her, though. She wasn't a bad person. Just... Not the right person for me.

- "I'm sorry, Ashley. I am sure you are an amazing woman, and any man would be glad to..."

- "Not any man, Spencer. You! I want you!"- but I just shook my head and sighed.

- "I'm sorry."

That was all I managed to answer. Her cheeks kept blushing, and somehow, her eyes were tearing up too. I remembered (Y/N) once told me that she would involuntarily cry every time she was upset, which always made her feel weak. I thought I could tell Ashley crying was totally normal when one's upset. But instead, I just stayed quiet.

- "You know, she is with someone else now. So she clearly doesn't want you, Spencer. Why are you waiting for her?"

I could tell she meant to hurt me, but she couldn't do it. Why? I guess because I knew she didn't understand (Y/N) and me. She tried to make it seem like (Y/N) had ruined everything, but I knew it had been me. There was no one else to blame but me.

- "I don't wanna fight with you, Ashley,"- I whispered and shook my head- And I don't want to talk about (Y/N) with you.

- "She doesn't love you, Spencer,"- that we both agreed on.

- "She has nothing to do with what's going on right here. I don't wanna have anything but a professional relationship with you, Ashley. I'm sorry if you had any other thoughts about us, but it's not gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever. And not because of (Y/N)."

Ashley gave me a stern look. Her chin quivered, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she grabbed the food she had brought and walked to the door.

- "You are gonna regret this, Spencer!!"- she yelled and stormed out of my apartment, slamming the door.

But no matter what, I knew I wouldn't. I wasn't going to regret rejecting her that night.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I stared at the books James had sent me and sighed. I was home alone on a Wednesday night, staring at a bunch of books on my coffee table. They were unique, gorgeous, and clearly expensive. But they meant nothing compared to the one sitting at their side: Spencer's edition of the Illustrated Man. It was old, had many notes on the sides, and the corner of the pages had been folded... primarily by me.

I sipped my glass of wine and sighed. I missed Spencer. I didn't want to go out with James. I wasn't interested in him at all. I just liked the attention I got from him, mostly 'cos I knew he had a crush on me... because Anderson had pointed it out as soon as he told me about him.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I ran my fingers through Spencer's book. I missed him. But he was with Ashley now. So I had to move on. I didn't want to, though. I just wanted him. I could almost see him there, on the couch, laughing. I could hear his laughter as we played board games. His current favorite was Monopoly Gamer Mario Kart, and he really enjoyed winning. He could get all cocky as he got all my coins.

Everywhere I looked around in my apartment reminded me of Reid. It was just the books, his cardigan on my couch, the umbrella he had left two years ago, and that belonged in my place now. It was just the pictures of him on the walls, memories of trips, dinners, Christmas, parties with Lu, Frank, and Mikey. It was literally everything. My apartment screamed Spencer Reid because he was the person I had shared the most amazing times with there.

On that kitchen island, we had carved pumpkins every Halloween for the last four years. On that table, he served the first meal he ever prepared from scratch. On that couch, we forgot about all our phobias and cuddled for countless hours.

My whole life was about Spencer Reid. How was I ever going to move on from him? How was I ever going to love someone the way I loved him?

I sobbed and just then realized I was crying my heart out. I held my legs, wrapping my arms around them, and rocked back and forth for a few minutes. I was losing my mind, and the only thing that made sense was crying until there were no more years left inside of me.

When the phone rang, I had a headache. I always get one after I cry. I prayed it wasn't a case 'cos I wasn't really sober after drinking a whole bottle of wine, crying, on the floor. Literally, on the floor. But it wasn't Penelope with a case. It was Frank, and he could tell from the very first moment that something was wrong.

- "Nugget, are you ok?"

- "Yeah, Paco, why?"- I slurred and cursed. I was busted.

- "Why are you drunk?"

- "Because I got home after a horrible day and decided to drown my fucking bad mood in chardonnay. Guess what? The shitty bastard keeps floating, but I am not giving up!"

Frank chuckled with my drunken words. I heard him light a cigarette and walk around somewhere I figured was his apartment.

- "And what is the doc doing?"

- "What the fuck do I know?"- my voice didn't hide the hurt I felt, but I forgot Frank had no idea what was happening between Spencer and me.

- "Doc isn't there?"

- "No, we are no longer tied by the hip."

- "Ok, nugget, what the fuck is going on?"

- "Spencer has a girlfriend."

- "What?!"- I nearly dropped my phone, 'cos Frank yelled into my ear after hearing my reply.

- "Yeah, Spencer Walter Reid has a girlfriend. So if you wanna know about him, you should call fucking agent trainee Seaver, who is probably training his cock right now!!"

I grabbed my glass and finished what was left of the wine. I knew I had another bottle in the fridge, but it was just Wednesday, I still might be called in for a case, and I still had to get up early in the morning to go to work. Getting drunk wasn't the answer. But... I wasn't asking any questions either. So I stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen to grab the bottle.

- "No, nugget. There's no way you are telling me the truth!"

- "Why should I lie? Spencer has a girlfriend. Her name is Ashley."

- "(Y/N), Doc has been in love with you for years! There's no way he has a girlfriend!!"- I put the phone on speaker and left it on the counter to open the cold bottle of wine and pour myself another glass.

- "Can you all people stop saying Spencer is in love with me?!"- tears filled my eyes as I shouted and hit the table- "I know he is not! And that's why I feel like shit!"

- "Ok, nugget... calm down. Are you home?"

- "Yes... can you come over?"

- "I'm sorry, I'm out of town. I came to New York for a job interview."

- "What?! When? Why?"

- "'Cos I thought maybe it was time for a new challenge..."- my heart stopped with those words, and Frank knew it- "But don't worry, I didn't get it. You won't get rid of me so easily, nugget."

- "Good, 'cos I don't want any more changes. I can't deal with any more things changing... I don't like it..."

- "Ok, nugget, I am a little worried now, so I'm going to call Lu and ask her to go to your house, ok?"

- "No, please don't"- I closed my eyes, feeling the room spinning as soon as I did- "I can tell I had a little too much to drink already, so I'll finish this glass, and I'll go to bed."

- "Are you sure?"- I knew Frank was worried, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden for my friends.

- "Definitely."

- "Ok... what if we do something this weekend?"

- "Sure! I'll be free... if no psychopath decides to ruin our fun again."- Frank chuckled, and I took another sip of my wine.

- "Ok, sounds like a plan. Now please go to bed, and whatever you do, don't do any fucking phone call while you are under the influence."

- "I don't drink and call, Paco. Trust me,"- he chuckled one more time, his laughter bringing a smile to my lips 'cos it too damn contagious not to smile, and then, we said goodnight.

I looked around my kitchen. Nothing but memories with Spencer in there too. I could almost see him sitting at the other side of the kitchen island, sipping his coffee, giving me food facts as I cooked. The only fact I was sure about at that point was that if I wanted to move on from Spencer, I was going to have to move out of that place. Actually, I would have to move cities, states, probably countries. Because I knew everything reminded me of Reid.

But that night, for once, I knew I couldn't move on. I wanted to feel Spencer close, 'cos I missed him too much. So I did all the things I knew I shouldn't. I put on one of his shirts and sweaters and took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around me as I got under the covers of my bed, thinking Spencer was there with me. His clothes still smelled like him, and it was intoxicating.

So I did the only thing I could do: I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep.

Thursday was a waste of a day. I had so much paperwork to catch up with, I put on my headphones and created a bubble around me because it was the only way to survive. Lucky for me, Seaver wasn't at the BAU that day. She was at the academy. Maybe that was why Spencer looked so sad. He missed her.

- "SSA (Y/L/N)"- I picked up my phone and turned around as soon as I heard Hotch's voice at the other side of the line, calling me at the end of the workday.

- "(Y/N), can you come to my office, please?"

- "Yes, sir."

I took a deep breath as I walked over, and brushed my hands against my pants, to get rid of any wrinkle or fuzz. When was the last time Hotch had called me to his office? Over a year earlier, after I had an argument with a suspect in the interrogation room. In my defense, she was striking my nerves. Ok, fine, I didn't have a reason.

- "Hi, is everything ok?"- I asked as soon as I showed up in Aaron's office.

- "Close the door, (Y/N), please."

And immediately, the knot in my stomach made me feel like I was being called into the principal's office. I turned around to do as asked and caught Spencer's eyes staring at me as he stood in the middle of the bullpen, clearly worried. And I felt so weak and moved by how concerned he looked; I did the first thing that came to mind: I smiled and waved.

- "Please, sit down,"- Aaron pointed at the chair across from him, and I did as told, again.

- "Is everything ok, Hotch?"- my question came right out of me, my lips moving before I had actually decided to speak.

- "I have been trying to find the right way to say this for the last half hour, and I am sorry, but..."

- "Oh shit! I'm fired! Why do you hate me so much?"- I jumped from my chair, and Aaron quickly followed me, trying to smother my reaction.

- "No, (Y/N). You are not fired! And no, I don't hate you! Calm down!"- I looked at him, confused and still suspicious.

- "Please, sit down. It's actually because I care about you that I didn't know how to tell you this, but I think almost five years is enough time to stay aside from what's been going on."

- "I'm sorry, Hotch, but I don't follow"- he clenched his jaw and sighed, frustrated. I just stared at him, waiting for the rest of the speech because my unit chief was clearly trying to find the right words to speak his mind.

- "Listen, (Y/N). This is very hard for me to talk about. I've always tried to keep everybody's personal life aside from the FBI. Unfortunately, your relationship with Reid is starting to affect you at your work."

Clearly, that was why he was so uncomfortable. I turned blood red and looked at my hands resting on my lap. I couldn't look into Hotch's eyes.

- "I don't understand. I don't have a relationship with Spencer."

- "The fact neither of you has acted on your feelings doesn't mean you don't have a relationship."

The words came more upset than what Hotch had intended, so he took a deep breath and walked around his office for a moment.

- "After what happened to Haley, I've given too much thought to many of the decisions I've taken in the last years of my life."

I didn't know how to react to Hotch's words because of all the things I could have thought we would talk about. Listening to my unit chief open his heart and talk about his feelings was definitely not my first guess. Not even the eighth.

- "And I care about you and Reid. I don't want you to have any regrets."

- "Which regrets could I have?"- I don't know why I asked if I knew I wasn't going to like the answer.

- "Spencer is in love with you, and you are in love with him. Stop running away from your feelings and face them. Sometimes you have to be courageous and take the first step."

I looked at Aaron Hotchner, almost certain the man sitting in front of me wasn't the same Aaron Hotchner who had once hired me. The man who refused to speak his heart. At least, not me. No way on earth that was Hotch.

- "I know it's strange that I tell you this, and I know I am not comfortable doing this... but... I can see that you two did something wrong, and you should try to fix it before you regret it."

For once, I couldn't argue those words. I knew the speech, but it was useless lying to Hotch. He could see through all my bullshit.

- "I... don't think he feels the same as I do,"- I whispered and kept my eyes on my hands, feeling how my cheeks blushed immediately.

- "You are wrong. You two have been nonsensical, and if I can be sincere, it's getting painful to watch- I winced in a mix of embarrassment and frustration."

- "Hotch... it's not that easy. I don't know if you noticed, but Ashley is the girl who caught his attention."

- "It's the lies that we keep telling ourselves that define what we are instead of who we can really be."- he sentenced, shaking his head- "He loves you. But for the last few weeks, you two have been acting like you are twelve years old."

- "I don't think you are getting all the info straight. I mean... I have tried to tell him."

- "No, you have tried to teach a blind man how to recognize colors,"- now that was Hotch frustrated. He was clearly awkward but also upset I wasn't following his ideas.

- "I'm pretty sure he is with Seaver."

- "He asked never to be paired with Seaver,"- Hotch refuted, frowning. Now that was new information. But I kept refusing to admit anything.

- "Probably not to be suspicious or to make sure his head was in the job."

- "His request was literally: "I don't want to give (Y/N) any sign I like Seaver, 'cos I don't."

Hotch looked at me in silence as I tried to process what he had just said. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you can't ever doubt Hotch.

- "Why would he do such a thing?"

- "You have to ask him."

- "Maybe he just doesn't want anyone suspicious about what they have."

- "Why is it so hard to believe? He loves you!"

I opened my mouth to argue with my boss when Anderson knocked on the door and excused himself.

- "Strauss sent you this, sir. She said it's urgent."- Grant said and cut me a small smile before disappearing from the room.

- "Thank you, Anderson."- Hotch said as he went through the papers and sighed.

- "You are busy,"- I inferred and stood up- "We can continue... whatever this was some other time if you'd like."

I stood up, seeing a clear way out of that awkward conversation. I wasn't sure I could open my heart with him.

- "One more thing, (Y/N)"- Hotch said as I stood up and almost ran to the door.

- "What is it?"

- "Tell him how you feel, or I'll have to take action myself."

- "What kind of actions?"

- "Let's hope we don't get to that point."

Hotch's face was severe. He wasn't joking. I just nodded and walked out of his office, scared of what would happen if I ever told Spencer how I felt. But now I was being forced to. That wasn't good.

I looked around, Morgan was packing his things to leave, and Spencer was on the phone, walking to the elevators. Probably he had a date with Ashley, and he was calling her to tell her he was picking her up. I sighed, exhausted, and shook my head.

- "What is it, pretty girl?"- Morgan cut me a warm smile as I reached his side and sighed.

- "I am so tired. I just wanna go home and get under the blankets of my bed with a warm cup of tea and a book."

- "Damn! That sounds thrilling! When is your big date?"- I frowned, groaning. I had totally forgotten about that date.

- "Tomorrow... I'm kind of hoping we get called on a case so I can cancel..."

- "Why?"- Derek looked at me as I started getting ready to go home.

- "'Cos... I don't feel like going."

- "Then don't,"- his answer was so simple I almost laughed.

- "Yeah... I have to go. Did you see the books that guy sent me?"

- "But that doesn't mean you have to go out on a date. You are not forced to do it just 'cos he sent you a present."

- "I know... but I don't know... maybe I'm just too tired and not thinking clearly."

- "Well, go to sleep, pretty girl. And tomorrow, depending on how you are feeling, you can cancel that date. I know someone who would be thrilled to know you won't go out with some guy."

I just shook my head and put on my jacket. I knew he was talking about Reid, but I wasn't in the mood to keep on talking about him with other teammates. Hotch's pep talk had been enough.

- "See you tomorrow, Derek."

Spencer's point of view

My heart dropped as soon as Hotch called (Y/N) to his office. The last time he had done that, she had gotten into trouble with an unsub. She lost her temper in the interrogation room and almost hit the suspect. Had she done something? Was she in trouble? The fact she smiled and waved at me before closing the door made me feel actually worse. Maybe she knew she was in trouble.

I kept looking over from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside Hotch's office, but I gave up after a few minutes because it was impossible.

I still couldn't shake the thought of (Y/N) being in trouble from my head.

- "Dr. Spencer Reid,"- I answered the phone and didn't take my eye from Hotch's door.

- "Hey Doc, Frank here. How are you?"

- "Hey! Good, how are you?"

- "Good, I was just thinking, is (Y/N) around?"

- "No, she is not. Why? She is with our chief unit... Do you need to reach her?"

- "No. Are you busy tonight?"

- "No, why?"

- "I need to talk to you. Alone."

- "Is everything ok?"- of course, it wasn't. Frank had never called to meet alone unless we were planning (Y/N)'s a surprise birthday party.

- "Yeah, don't worry. I just need to talk to you..."

- "Well... I'm heading home now."

- "Great, I just got off the plane... I can meet you there in an hour if that's ok with you."

- "Sure, see you there."

I had never been so nervous about talking with Frank before. Not even when we first met, and I freaked out thinking of any excuse to avoid going to (Y/N)'s apartment. The memories of that day filled my mind the whole way back home. That was the first time I had ever gotten drunk in my entire life, and I never told that to anyone. I always felt people thought I was a loser, and I didn't want to give them any more reasons to do it. But neither Mikey nor Frank ever laughed at me, though they were clearly cooler than I was. They would have never been my friends in high school.

Were they going to be my friends if (Y/N) and I stopped talking to each other? Of course not. What was going to happen between us? I had no idea, and the headaches overanalyzing everything produced me were driving me insane.

- "Hey man,"- Frank walked in and tapped on my back the second he showed up at my door.

- "How was your flight? Where were you?"

- "New York, applying for a job, but didn't get it,"- he took off his jacket and left it on a chair, as he had always done, despite the fact the hat rack was right next to the door.

- "I'm sorry, Frank."

- "That's ok. It wasn't for me."

- "I was gonna get something for dinner. Wanna join me?"

- "No, this won't take too long, I just..."

Frank sighed and looked at me, standing in the middle of my apartment. He was a little shorter than I was, so I had to look down at him, but that could never affect the fact he could kick my ass. I always knew that about him and Frank. In fact, I had seen them get into small fights a few times in the years I had met them.

And the way Frank looked at me that minute let me know he was actually considering hitting me.

- "Why are you mad at me?"

- "Don't profile me! I hate when you and (Y/N) start doing your Jedi shit."

- "I'm sorry, but... you are clearly not happy with me so, why don't you just say it?"

- "Ok, fine. What the fuck is wrong with you?"- Frank simply replied and crossed his arms on his chest.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You have a girlfriend."

- "What? How do you... I don't!"- Frank just shook his head and started talking, not giving me a chance to explain I wasn't dating anyone.

- "Maybe this is my fault. Lu and Mikey kept telling me you had to tell her what you felt at your own peace! But four fucking years are enough to make up your fucking mind!! We were all sure you loved her, 'cos you did, right? I mean, as long as I know, you still do! I saw you less than a month ago, and you two were fucking husband a wife, for Christ's sake!!"

Frank was now almost yelling at me, and I still didn't understand a word that came from his lips.

- "Frank, what are you talking about?"

- "She fucking loves you!! And we were all waiting for you to date her!! Maybe even marry her!! But now you fucking ruined everything dating someone else! And she is fucking broken hearted!! You fucking hurt her!"- Frank yelled, his nostrils were flaring, and he even cracked his knuckles.

- "Frank, I don't really follow what you are saying, but I can assure you, I am not dating."

- "She already told me everything! You made her cry!!"

- "Who?"- I was so lost in that conversation I wasn't sure I followed him.

- "(Y/N)!! You broke her heart! And now I'm gonna have to break your bones!!"- the way Frank threatened me sounded funny, but it wasn't, at all, why? 'Cos I knew he meant it.

- "Wait!!"- I took a few steps back and raised my hands in a sign of defeat- "Stop it! I am not dating anyone!"

- "Don't lie to me, man. That will just make shit worst."

- "I am not lying! I'm just confused about all this... why would you say I'm dating."

- "(Y/N) told me yesterday."

I stared at Frank, speechless. My eidetic memory going a hundred miles, trying to find a moment in time that gave (Y/N) the impression I had a girlfriend.

- "But... I am not."

- "Then who is Agent Seaver?"- I froze and widened my eyes as Frank crossed his arms on his chest one more time and didn't move his eyes from mine.

- "Oh shit!!"- the curse was a whisper Frank read as a confirmation.

- "And you thought you could keep it from her?"

- "What? No! I am not dating Seaver! I don't even like her!!"- and for the first time since we started arguing, Frank gave me the chance to talk.

- "And why would (Y/N) say that?"

- "I have no idea!!! She hasn't spoken to me this whole week!! Not since I saw her making out with that random guy last Friday."

- "What?! She did what?!"- I feel like a blabbermouth telling Frank what her friend had done, but in my defense, (Y/N) had given him wrong information, and I had to set the record straight.

- "Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on between you two? 'Cos she didn't mention any of that!"

- "Beer?"

Ever since Frank and Mikey were my friends, I always had beers in my fridge. I didn't drink much, but I liked being ready in case they showed up. And they did, 'cos they were my friends.

I stood next to the fridge in the kitchen and took a sip of my beer. Frank stared at me from the other side of the room and waited for my explanation. So I tried to start from the very beginning.

- "I don't know why (Y/N) thinks I'm dating Ashley Seaver, but I am not. I barely talk to her."

- "Who is she?"

- "A young agent Emily is training in the BAU... she and (Y/N) don't get along from the start 'cos Seaver's dad killed Mrs. (Y/L/N)'s sister back in college."

- "What?!"- Frank was in shock.

- "Yeah, it's been pretty awkward since day one."

- "And what? She tried to apologize, and (Y/N) nearly killed her?"

- "That was day one. Everything went downhill from there. But I don't get why she thinks we are dating. I barely talk to Seaver. I specifically asked our unit chief not to pair me with her at any case or task to make sure (Y/N) wouldn't think I liked her."

- "Clearly, that didn't work,"- Frank pointed out the obvious and grabbed his phone- "We should ask (Y/N) why..."

- "No!! Please don't!! I don't want her to know we are talking about this,"- I almost choked on the beer when I heard him say that and nearly jumped to take the phone from his hand.

- "Why?"- I didn't have a reason. I just didn't want to do anything that might actually make things worse.

- "Because..."- I didn't pronounce another sentence. I literally deflated after just one word.

- "Shit, that's deep,"- Frank joked and sipped his beer- "If you are not dating Seaver, why haven't you told (Y/N) you love her?"

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped in my tracks and simply shrugged. It felt useless to deny it anymore. Apparently, everybody could see it but (Y/N). And if she did see it, then it just meant one thing:

- "Because she doesn't love me back. Now she is the one dating some random guy she met at a party."

- "The one she kissed Friday?"- Frank raised an eyebrow as I just nodded- "She probably did that out of anger is she thought you were dating Seaver."

- "You didn't see her, Frank. She didn't look hurt at all. She actually looked like she was enjoying it."

- "Well... I didn't see her, and you are right about that. But I've seen her for the last... five years or so. She loves you. You should ask her out on a date, finally."

- "Why would she go out with me?"- I asked, embarrassed of facing my feelings so openly in front of Frank. But he just shrugged and said.

- "I just said so, 'cos she loves you."

Now that was just painful to hear, especially 'cos Frank actually meant it.

- "She doesn't."- I whispered and sipped my beer.

- "Sorry, but I wasn't asking you if you thought she loved you. I am telling you, she does. Now, if you don't want to believe it, that's an entirely different story.

The way Frank looked at me, saying everything so lightly, like it wasn't a big deal at all, shocked me. He had always been upfront about pretty much everything since day one. But still, that day, I wasn't prepared for that. I stayed quiet, looking at the floor, not knowing what to say.

- "Shit! You really don't believe she has feelings for you!! Are you blind?!"

- "Frank, she is my best friend in the whole world. I don't want to lose her..."

- "Why would you lose her? Just 'cos you love her?"

- "If she doesn't feel the same... and I tell her how I feel..."- I started mumbling, but Frank snorted, frustrated.

- "She is so fucking in love with you; it's hard not making fun of it!! She way she looks at you, how she is always worried about you!"

- "She does the same for you, guys."

- "I've met that woman since when we were kids, and believe me, she has never treated us the way she treats you. We are still waiting for her to bake us birthday cakes. She bakes yours every year. Last year's cake was sick! She fucking made the whole Tell-tale heart scene on your fucking cake and hid a heart in the middle of it!! You know what she did for my birthday? She wrapped the guitar strings she got me. That was it. If that doesn't tell you how in love she is with you, I've got a fucking list of things she has done for you all these years! So fucking deal with it and tell her what you feel!"

- "I can't! I just can't do that!"- I yelled back at Frank, for once opening up about what I really felt- "Every time I look at her, and she smiles, my whole brain turns to mush! I can't tell her I love her 'cos she will laugh. A girl like her deserves everything a man can give her! Have you seen me? She deserves so much better!!"

I'm not gonna lie. It felt good finally saying what I felt out loud. Like a weight had been lifted from my chest. Frank just walked over and tapped on my back a few times, nodding.

- "She fucking loves you! You should be with her! That's it! Why are you overthinking this?!"

- "'Cos I don't wanna ruin it!"

- "You two have wasted like four years! I told her I wanted you two to date since the day I fucking met you! She had to ditch Paul and date you! But she is so fucking convinced you don't love her, she is..."

- "What?"- my heart stopped at those words- "Did she say so?"

- "She did, in fact, yell to me I had to stop telling her you loved her 'cos she knew it was a lie, and that's why she was in so much pain. When did that happen, you ask? Fucking yesterday, so don't come here and tell me she is dating some random guy she kissed at a party when she is clearly in love with you."

I don't know how to explain what that felt like. It was heartbreaking and, at the same time... encouraging?

- "She loves me?"- I asked Frank, still not fully understanding our conversation.

- "Doc, she fucking went behind your boss's back to stay with you in Las Vegas to help you figure out the case of a kid you thought your dad had killed. She fought Gideon when he told her she was a bad influence for you. She hates Lila Archer's movies because of you. I've seen her yell at the tv!"

- "What?"- that was too much information.

- "Just please, fix this shit and tell her you love her"

- "How?"- I honestly asked 'cos I didn't know how to do that. Frank frowned and finished his beer, leaving the bottle on the counter.

- "I don't know, man. Give her a romantic speech about what a big ass you've been all this time thinking she didn't feel the same, ask her to forgive you, and fucking kiss her!!"

- "Ok... how do I do that?"

- "I don't know, doc! You are the genius here!"

- "Actually, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified... and I have no idea what to do..."

- "Yeah, clearly, this is not your forte. I'll give you that"- I shook my head as Frank stared at me, finally a smile curling on his lips.

- "You know everything she likes. There's no way you can go wrong. Just go to her house and tell her the words she wants to hear: I love you."

I nodded and tried to engrave those simple instructions in my head 'cos I knew I was going to ruin it: go there, say I love you. That was it. It was simple. I could do that. Right?

- "Do you need a ride?"- Frank asked and threw me my jacket.

- "Yes... I think I do."

- "Ok, doc, let's do this!"

(Y/N)'s point of view

I held my cup of tea with both hands and smiled, finally relaxing. That was just what I needed after a long miserable day. I sat on the couch, resting my feet on the table right in front of me, and sighed.

- "Sure, make yourself home."- Lu joked as she walked over with a bowl of popcorn and sat by my side.

- "Hey! I took off my shoes! I know you hate it when I leave footprints on your furniture."

- "How considered!!"- Lu joked as I grinned - "You should definitely come more often then."

- "I promise I will..."

- "And when are you gonna talk to the doc?"- I simply shrugged and focused on the tv in front of me.

- "(Y/N), you do realize you just spent two hours finally coming to your senses, right? I don't care if it's 'cos your boss is pushing you to do it. You have to tell Spencer you love him."

I pouted and groaned, but I knew she was right.

- "First, I have to cancel my date with James."

- "Yeah, do that now."

- "No, I don't wanna face reality today. I'll call him tomorrow around noon. I'm gonna tell him I'm on a case out of town, and I won't be able to make it for dinner."

- "Why don't you just tell him you are not interested 'cos you are in love with your best friend?"- I looked at Lu and widened my eyes- "Oh, come on!! We already passed the initial shock. We all knew you've been in love with Spencer for what seems to be ages!! I knew you loved him since you have him the scarf you knitted."

- "That was ages ago!"- I smiled and sighed- "He still wears it every winter"

- "Of course, he does, 'cos he loves you."

- "Do you really think he does?"

- "Are you serious? That man has been crazy for you since day one! He has been unconditional to you! You two can talk about your nerdy things for hours! Watching you is actually endearing. I had never seen two people just looking at each other with such love before! So please! Just do the right thing and tell him you love him."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I had concluded I had to tell Spencer I loved him because Hotch was right; it was affecting my work. I had to put an end to all that nonsense. Lu kept telling me Spencer would tell me he loved me too, but I was sure he wouldn't. Still, each time she tried to convince me, she made a point.

- "And he took you to Hawaii."

- "He didn't even touch me."

- "So? He hates the beach! The man hates the sun, the sand, and the seawater, and what did he do? He took you for ten days to a resort to the beach 'cos that's what you wanted."

- "His doctor told him the sea breeze was good for his lungs after the whole anthrax incident."

- "Anthrax, my ass! He wanted to make you happy, no matter if that meant being miserable for ten days. If that shit ain't love, then I have no idea what it is!!"

Lu was mad. She had cursed. I looked at her and just nodded.

- "And when you two have your first kid, I wanna be the godmother."

- "Lu, aren't you going a little fast?"

- "No. You two have been too slow with our confessions, so it's time someone speeds this up."

I drove back home around midnight. I was weary, and my body needed a good six hours of sleep after that miserable day. But I knew I wasn't going to get much rest. The idea of telling Spencer how I really felt was too scary, and I wasn't sure I would be able to go through with the plan. I didn't even have a plan. I just knew I had to do it before Hotch took the matter into his hands. Whatever that meant.

It was sad getting to my empty apartment. It felt cold and impersonal. I missed having Spencer around. We hadn't talked in a week, and I had never felt so alone in my entire life. If things didn't go well, I thought I could get a cat. I had always wanted one but never actually decided to take the big step and adopt one. I could go to the shelter and get a kitty.

I poured myself one last cup of tea and walked to my bedroom. Spencer's shirt I had worn as a pajama the night before was still on my bed, and I guessed there was no harm if I wore it again. I got under the covers and wrapped my own arms around my waist. I wondered if there would be a day when Spencer would cuddle me to sleep in our shared bed. Not like friends, like we had done so many times. It was embarrassing to think how many of those nights I had fallen asleep pretending Spencer was my boyfriend.

- "I am in love with you."- I whispered and sighed, closing my eyes.

What would Spencer do if I ever said those terrifying words out loud? I could almost see him freaking out in front of me. He wouldn't know what to do or what to say. If he didn't love me back, he would try to find the most careful way to reject me. He would reassure me he loved me, just not like that. But our friendship would be ruined anyway. I could never see him in the eyes after feeling his rejection. If he didn't love me, I was going to lose my best friend.

Sometimes, I felt Spencer was my soulmate. Lu was right; I had denied my feelings for too long. Had I wasted years of happiness with my honey bunny? Was it too late to tell him how I really felt?

I practiced my speech until two in the morning, rolling in my cold bed, alone, until I finally fell asleep. At seven am, I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I got ready for the day. That Friday was the day I was going to tell Spencer I loved him. I had to look my best. So I put on a lovely dress that always made me feel pretty, though I couldn't find my matching and favorite silk scarf. I did my hair nicely and put on a decent amount of makeup, primarily to hide the big dark rings under my eyes.

I stopped by Spencer's favorite coffee shop on my way to work and got him a cup of coffee and a box of donuts. I took a deep breath as I got out of my car and reminded myself I was doing the right thing. My plan was simple: I was going to give Spencer the coffee and the donuts as an apology for not talking to him in the lastest days. I was going to cancel my date with James, and I was going to ask Spencer out. Maybe like a date, and confess my true feelings for him.

But my plan was ruined before I even reached the main building. I walked through the parking lot and saw Spencer getting out of Ashley's car, holding a cup of coffee. They looked like the lovely young couple they were, after getting breakfast together... after spending the night together...

My broken heart kept breaking as I stared at the scene from a safe distance. I was right. I was too late to fight for Spencer. I had wasted all the chances I had ever had to be with him, and now I couldn't ruin his happiness. If he wanted to be with Ashley, I had to do the right thing and get out of his way.

I hurried up inside the main building and rushed into the elevator. I took deep breaths, trying to hold the tears inside. Whatever happened, I was not going to let Spencer see me cry. I grabbed the box of donuts and the coffee and hesitated when I reached the bullpen. Hotch was already in his office, talking with Rossi. I looked around, knowing Reid was about to get in there with Ashley, and I needed to hide from them.

- "I'm so glad you are here!!"- Penelope turned from her computer, surprised to see me rushing into her office.

- "Hey, munchkin!"

- "How is my favorite tech genius this morning? I got you breakfast!"- I could pretend to be hyper and happy, right?

- "And I love you so much!!"- Penelope smiled and grabbed the coffee- "Smells... delicious!"

- "Only the best for my dearest friend"- she looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Of course!! I had a good night of sleep, and tonight, if no fucking psycho killers ruin my day, I am going to have a date with a hot guy who is so into me. He already sent me an expensive present, which by no means makes me feel pressured, not even a little! No!"

I freaked out immediately, thinking I had a date with a guy I didn't even like.

- "Ok, baby, sit down"- Penelope tapped on the chair next to her and looked at me with worried eyes- "Are you getting cold feet about this date?"

- "I just... I don't know how I feel about that date. I was ready to cancel, and now... I think I just should go."

I definitely wasn't telling Garcia what had happened earlier; how I was going to tell Spencer I love him until I saw him in Ashley's car. Why? Well, first, I didn't want to cry at work. Second, she would say I had to tell Spencer how I felt. And third, she would tell Morgan.

Penelope sipped her coffee and frowned. Still, she didn't say a word. Instead, she looked right into my eyes and whispered.

- "If you don't wanna go out with him, you don't have to."

- "I know. I just wish I wanted to... do you know what I mean?"

- "I do... "- Garcia nodded and sighed- "Munchkin, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, really."

- "Thank you"- I rested my head on her shoulder and just sighed. We both stayed quiet for a moment until my dear friend questioned.

- "Why did you give me Spencer's coffee?"

- "Wh... what?"- I felt so caught I actually stuttered.

- "This is not almond milk. This is filled with dairy, both milk, and cream... and the amount of sugar in this is..."

- "Oh, please!! Can you just pretend I fooled you?!"- I was mortified- "It's fucking eight in the morning, and the day has already turned as awful as it could be."

- "Come on, baby"- Garcia tried to soothe me- "You know life can always get worse, so let's start by being honest. Why didn't you give Spencer the breakfast you got for him?"

- "For not being a profiler, you are creepy good reading people, you know?"

- "Yes, I am a genius. You should have noticed that earlier in life. That wasn't so bright from you, profiler,"- she teased, trying to make me laugh. And I actually chuckled.

- "Good, I got a smile. Now, tell me what happened."

- "But I don't wanna cry at work... and Hotch already called me out for being unprofessional about this whole Spencer's thing."

- "What? When?"

- "Yesterday, he said I have to tell Spencer what I actually feel for him, or he is gonna take matters into his hands."

- "What did he mean by that?"

- "I have no idea! But it sounded serious,"- I sighed, defeated, and sipped my coffee- "So after zero sleeping for days and a very awkward talk with our unit chief, plus the threats from one of my closest friends, I had decided to tell Spencer that I..."

I couldn't even say it

- "What I feel for him, today."

- "Today?! With this breakfast I am eating?"- and of course, PG freaked out.

- "Well, I was going to give him food as an offering for ignoring him this week... then I was going to ask him out tonight, and that's when I wanted to tell him... but..."

I paused and took a deep breath, doing my best not to cry. I really didn't want to show how hurt I was, though I was almost sure my dear friend Garcia could see it clearly in my eyes.

- "Just please, don't tell Morgan."

- "My adorable munchkin, I don't tell everything about you and our resident genius to Derek!"

- "Yeah, but... I just... feel so..."

- "Good morning, Garcia!"- I bit my lips as soon as I heard Ashley's voice storming into my friend's office- "I brought you coffee!"

Penelope held my hand and squeezed it as soon as she noticed my mood shift.

- "Hi!"- and my dear friend was so awkward it could have actually been fun if I wasn't so angry.

- "Oh, hi (Y/N), I didn't know you were here already..."

- "Yeah, we were having breakfast, actually,"- I pointed at our coffees and donuts, and Ashley nodded, blushing.

- "Sorry... I didn't know you were here... I didn't get you any..."

- "No, don't worry, Ashley. It's not like you know you I actually work here too,"- I wasn't even trying to be polite with her anymore. I hated her. Hotch was going to be so mad...

Seaver just stared at us and nodded in silence. Then, she turned around and left, closing the door behind her back. I groaned and nearly hit my head against the desk.

- "Wow, you are not even pretending for the cameras."

- "That was me trying not to kill her, actually. If she walked out on her own, then it was a very successful encounter."

- "What the hell, (Y/N)?"

- "I was gonna tell him, and then I saw him getting out of her car in the parking lot..."

- "Spencer Reid?!"- Penelope freaked out. I just nodded- "Dr. Spencer Reid?? The nerd in love with you? Getting out of her car?"

- "And carrying breakfast, like a lovely young couple. I bet they banged last night."

- "No way!"

- "Why not?!"

- "Because he loves you, and no one calls it "bang" anymore!" Where have you been?"

- "Penelope!"- my friend smiled at me and offered me a donut, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and resting her head against mine.

- "My dearest munchkin. Don't let this stop you. You were on a mission this morning."

- "They banged, fucked, had sex, call it what you want!! I am not telling Reid anything!! And I guess I'm going out with James tonight 'cos... if I don't, I'm gonna die alone, and my cat is gonna eat me!!"

I was nonsensical. I knew it. But there was nothing that could stop me from being absurd. I was scared and hurt. I actually thought I was going to go crazy.

I stayed with Penelope for a while, trying to cool my head. I didn't want to snap with Seaver again. I knew it had been a mistake. I saved Hotch a donut and asked him if I could work in JJ's old office. I told him I wanted to concentrate and that I really needed the time alone. Of course, he could see through my bullshit.

- "I told you, if you don't fix things with Reid, I am going to intervene."

- "I am going to do it, sir. Just... after I get all this paperwork done. I'll talk to him this weekend."- I looked into Hotch's eyes, trying my best to lie correctly. Do you have any idea what lying to the best profiler in the FBI felt like? It was mission impossible.

- "Good, (Y/N). I'm glad to know you've made the right decision."

- "Thank you, sir."

Spencer's point of view

After I got out of Frank's car, holding a bouquet of flowers, I forced him to help me get in our way over. It took me almost half an hour to walk from the sidewalk to the door of (Y/N)'s building.

- "I am in love with you,"- I whispered and shook my head, knowing she deserved better than that simple confession. I took the stairs, trying to improve my speech.

- "I have always been in love with you, from the minute I first saw you,"- I whispered and wiped off the sweat from my hands against the fabric of my jacket. It sounded terrible. I knew I was going to get it all wrong.

- "What am I doing?"- I stopped in my tracks before I reached her floor- I can't do this.

I literally froze and felt sick in my stomach. I couldn't do that. What was I doing? How had I let Frank talk to me into doing something so stupid? What was I getting into? I couldn't do it.

For a minute or so, I stood in the middle of the stairs, not able to move or formulate a single coherent thought. I was trying to

But if I didn't, and she loved me... I was going to lose everything I had ever dreamed of and that I never imagined I could have. No, I had to do it. I had to tell (Y/N) I loved her. And I had to do it that day. "Your head is spinning because it's full of ghosts," I remembered Julio's words and took a deep breath.

I ran the last steps of the stairs and reached her door, panting. But I didn't wait. I knocked on her door and waited.

- (Y/N), it's Spencer. Are you home?- but nothing. So I knocked again.

- Chipmonk, please open the door. I know I've been an asshole this whole week, but I need to talk to you. There is something you should know.

But nothing. Just silence. I knocked a few more times and patiently waited. No answer. I thought about it for a second and took the key she had given me years ago in case of any emergency. I had ended up using that key a million times, not really for many emergencies. I used it to prepare her surprise birthday party many times or come in when she knew I was coming. Or when I stayed over for the weekend, and it was my turn to pick up something from the store. So that day, I used it and opened her door.

Walking into (Y/N)'s apartment felt like walking into her arms. It smelled like her, and it felt like home. I took a look around, calling out her name. But she wasn't there.

Her place was kind of messy. There were many blankets on the couch and some clothes lying around. Man's clothes. For a moment, my heart sank. I thought maybe James was spending time there too. But soon, I realized...It was my clothes. I walked into her room and saw her unmade bed. My old red sweater was on her pillow, and some of the shirts she liked were close as well.

Why was she surrounded by my things? Did she... miss me that much? Could it be Frank was actually right? She loved me and missed me? I looked around and tried to find confirmation, though I felt overwhelmed by emotion at the moment.

(Y/N) loved me. There was a chance she actually loved me the way I did.

I fell on her bed and contained tears that almost started falling down my eyes. There might be a chance she loved me, and I refused to ruin it. She couldn't find me in her house out of the blue. She deserved better than that. She deserves the world. So I quickly collected all my things and walked to the door to think of a better way to confess my undying love. Undying, cheesy, and yet, honest.

But before I was out, I walked back to her room and opened her closet. If she had all my clothes to think of me, I wanted a souvenir too. My eyes traveled quickly through all the items hanging until her purple satin scarf caught my eye. I loved how she looked on it, and it smelled like her. I hid it in my pocket and walked out of her apartment.

Not even the tiny bouquet of flowers I had gotten her seemed to be enough. Frank said she'd love them, but... it just wasn't good enough for her.

I had a lot of planning to do. And I have no idea where to start. I had high standards to beat. After all, I had read all of the romantic books (Y/N) had in her house and seen all the romantic comedies she loved. All of those more than ten times. So... how was I going to do it? Was I going to pour my heart out to her in the most romantic way possible and finish with:

- "I am just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him,"- I said out loud as I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee.

No. That didn't feel right. It had to be better. Who was (Y/N)'s biggest love reference? Mr. Darcy. How had he done it? Well... he didn't do it right the first time, so he started making amends with a letter. I could begin with a letter. After all, I had written (Y/N) many love letters I had never given her in all those years. Letters that contained all my feelings for her as a way of letting it out of my chest. But they were never meant for her to see.

I sat at my desk and grabbed my favorite pen. But before I could actually start writing, I noticed I needed music, romantic music, for inspiration. I picked the same Amy Winehouse vinyl record I had been listening to for the last couple of days and walked back to my seat.

Writing a love letter wasn't easy. Putting facts into words, that's a task I can complete, no questions asked. But that Thursday night, I struggled with every sentence I created. I wasn't a writer and neither a man who had any kind of experience with love or being in love. Less with confessing such feelings. But I had to give my best.

Around one in the morning, I finished the third version of that letter. Frank had texted me to know if things had gone well, but I told him she wasn't home.

- "Don't worry, Paco,"- I said and smiled while holding her silk scarf- "Tomorrow is the day."

My wristwatch said four in the morning when I stopped painting and decided to get into bed. I had to get at least two hours of sleep. Not that (Y/N) had never seen my insomniac face before, but I needed to, at least try, to look presentable for her. After writing, my mind was flooded with emotion, and I couldn't stop thinking about everything we've been through all those years together. (Y/N) and I. we had been best friends for so long, yet, I could now see our friendship had always been a little different. We were closer... sidekicks... lovers without kissing. I needed to feel her hand in mine. Her arms around me. But it was only a few more hours.

Was she going to like me in the morning? I felt butterflies in my stomach just with the idea of confessing my feelings. I set everything ready and went to bed. I barely had the energy to put on my pajamas and turn off the lights. (Y/N)'s scarf wrapped softly on my wrist.

I frowned, baffled and lost, when I opened the door the following morning and found Ashley at the other side.

- "Can I talk to you for a moment?"- she whispered and handed me a fresh cup of coffee- "I brought you a peace offering for being so obnoxious the other day."

It was clear Ashley was honest, and she was embarrassed about her behavior. Otherwise, she wouldn't have shown up at my door. So I smiled and nodded, trying to show her I wasn't mad at her.

- "Water under the bridge"- I whispered and held the coffee she gave me. No milk, no cream, no sugar. Just like (Y/N) liked it. Ashley noticed how I prepared coffee at the BAU but never realized I wasn't making myself a cup. I was making (Y/N)'s.

- "I am very embarrassed... and I really like working with you... regardless of everything I said. I don't..."

- "We can pretend that never happened,"- I interrupted her, and she just smiled and nodded.

- "I would like that. I am sorry I was rude... Do you want a ride to work? We are a little late."

I thought about it for a second. I wanted to stop by and get (Y/N) more flowers, but we were late, and I wasn't planning on telling her how I felt until later that night.

- "Sure, let's go."

(Y/N) was nowhere to be found that day, and that immediately got me on my nerves. Her things were on her desk, but she wasn't there.

- "Hey García, have you seen (Y/N)?"- I walked in and watched her stay still, shocked.

- "Hello there, Dr. Reid. How are you today? Nice to see you too."

- "Sorry!"- I cut her an awkward smile and waved- "Hi! How are you?"

- "The damage is already done, Dr. Reid. Clearly, you are not here looking for my companionship."

- "Sorry, I just haven't seen (Y/N) today. You?"

- "Yes, my pretty chipmunk was here earlier, and that's all I know. Why?"- Garcia raised an eyebrow and looked into my eyes- "Why are you so interested in her?"

I didn't know if it was because I had spent most of the night planning to confess (Y/N) my feelings, but Penelope's question sounded suspicious. I tried to act normal and just frowned.

- "I just wanted to know if she was here 'cos I haven't seen her around."

- "She had work to do, and I think she had a meeting with Hotch."

- "Again?!"- I couldn't help but raise my voice, scared of the idea of (Y/N) being scolded by Hotch for two days in a row.

- "But she had a meeting with him yesterday!"- I argued, but Garcia just shrugged.

- "That's all I know. Also, she brought donuts"- I stared at her dish. Chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. My favorites.

- "Do you know if she... got one of those for me?"

- "I don't know, why don't you ask her?"- Garcia questioned back and raised an eyebrow

- "I would, but I don't know where she is."

- "Besides... didn't you have breakfast already?"

- "There's always room for a donut... for my favorite donut."

Penelope raised an eyebrow, trying to read beyond my words. Was I just talking about donuts, or was I talking about (Y/N)? Did she actually mean breakfast? Of course, she did. Garcia wasn't implying anything else! I was just overthinking everything!

Right?

- "I'll see if she is still with Hotch."

- "Hey, Reid"- Penelope called out my name when I was about to reach the door- "When you see her, you should tell her it's her breakfast you are interested in. No other."

I stared at Garcia and opened my mouth. But no word came from it. I just know I blushed and nodded, leaving her office soon after.

But I didn't find (Y/N) during that whole day. And it was both frustrating and nerve-wracking. The letter I wrote her kept burning me, as I felt it in my jacket's pocket, beating like a second heart. I wasted a whole paperwork day trying to concentrate, but I couldn't. I managed to get the least work done in years, 'cos my mind focused on her. On (Y/N). In her absence.

By the end of the day, I had lost all hope of finding her around and did what all desperate men would do. I waited by her car in the parking lot.

Around six-thirty, I heard her shoes approaching the vehicle, and my heart stopped when I saw her eyes in mind, nearly shocked to find me there.

- "Hi"- that was all I managed to say. My voice was a whisper that even I barely heard.

- "What are you doing here?"

- "I was waiting for you. I thought it was obvious."

I smiled and tried to ease her mood. But it didn't work. She looked so mad at me, though those few words were the longest conversation we had shared in over a week. Why was she mad at me? Was it too cheesy to tell her she looked adorable when she was mad? Of course, it was. I still took a mental note to tell her that later on. Maybe later that same evening if things went well.

- "Why?"- (Y/N) frowned and opened her car, and threw her purse in the back seat.

- "I wanted to talk to you."

- "I can't, Spencer. I am late,"- she called me by my name, and that reality check hurt me.

- "Late for your date with James?"

- "I don't feel like talking about that with you. Goodbye, Spencer."

- "Wait. (Y/N), stop."- I held her arm and felt her whole body shiver under my touch. I would have held her longer, but she pulled her arm from my grip and frowned- "Why are you so mad at me?"

- "Mad? I am not mad!"- I know she was a good liar, but she was so mad her whole body language gave it away, along with her high-pitched voice.

- "I think you are... Why?"- I tried to move closer, but she crossed her arms on her chest and stood next to the opened passenger door. Ready to escape.

- "I am just in a hurry, Spencer. That's it."

There it was, the confirmation of her anger. My name, leaving her lips with fury. I wanted to hold her. I needed to feel her close, with a desperation I had never experienced before. I was craving for her. And there she was, right in front of me, refusing to even look at me.

- "Can you just... give me a chance to talk to you?"- my words came as a whisper, almost as a beg.

- "Isn't someone else waiting for you?"

- "Me? No. No one,"- I answered, confused by what she was implying- "I just need to talk to you. Please."

- "Sorry, I'm late. But... maybe..."- (Y/N) hesitated and looked at someone else walking close to us. I didn't even bother. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

- "Would you... would you take this?"- I held the letter and gave it to her. She hesitated before taking it, and my heart nearly burst at the thought of her holding my love confession in her hands.

- "What's this?"

- "Can you read it?"- but it only lasted for a second. (Y/N) shook her head and gave me back my letter.

- "Not now, I'm late."

- "(Y/N), please."

- "No, Reid. I can't read this now. I am late."

- "Please, (Y/N). I need to tell you something."

- "And I need to leave. So, bye."

(Y/N) slipped through my fingers like water. I stayed still, staring at her as she disappeared, and cursed myself under my breath for being so petrified to act. I wanted to cry. I was so frustrated with myself.

- "I love you. I don't want you to go out with him. You should be with me."

It was liberating to say those words out loud even though she wasn't there to listen.

- "Nice kid. Now next time, say it when she can hear you."

I recognized Morgan's voice behind me. And I guess I could have felt embarrassed if I wasn't so frustrated already. And most of all, so mad at myself. I had practiced. I had tried. I knew what I had to say. But when I was with her, I just couldn't. And now he was out there on her way to date another man.

I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder, tapping on it a few times. I sighed and nodded.

- "Come on. First-round is on me."

It only took Morgan two rounds to get me talking. To be fair, I wanted to speak. He had already heard what I wanted (Y/N) to know.

- "I just wanna tell her I love her. I need to tell her what I feel for her 'cos now I can see there might be a chance she loves me too."

- "Might be a chance?"- Morgan frowned and shook his head- "Kid, that woman is head over feet in love with you. And she has been for years. I just can't believe you've wasted all these years!!"

- "I can't believe I am sitting here with you when she is out there on a date with some other man!!"- I nearly yelled and drank what was left of my third whisky, immediately raising my hand, asking for another round. Derek raised an eyebrow as he stared at me, and somehow it felt like he was mad at me for something.

- "Kid. You know I love you, but you've been so fucking stupid and blind it's been painful for us to watch! You've had so many chances to be with her! She has been crazy in love with you ever since she was dating that other guy!!"

- "Paul? That was ages ago!"- I said ages to sound less obsessive, but I knew exactly how long it had been since they had broken up. It was also the amount of time I had spent without using Dilaudid.

- "Well, she loved you even back there! I bet you are the reason they broke up!"

- "No, I wasn't"- I sighed, thinking I wished I was, but I knew (Y/N) had broken up with him 'cos she didn't love him.

- "Why are you so sure?"

- "She told me"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at me so severely- "What?"

- "Back then, that girl got into trouble for arguing with Lila Archer. Remember?"

- "Eidetic memory, Morgan. Of course, I remember."

- "Sorry, genius"- the waitress arrived with our fourth round, and my body felt way more relaxed by them. Also, my tongue started to slur as I spoke.

- "My pretty pumpkin actually called Lila, and I quote: "annoying, always ignoring our orders, keeping herself in danger, not helping, being a squeamish little princess who is used to do whatever the fuck she wants, and who didn't care to put people around her in danger."- I chuckled remembering that conversation- "And then she joked saying "Of course you were oblivious to all this 'cos you couldn't stop staring at her."

- "Ok, Reid, that's what girls say when they are jealous! And she was clearly jealous of Lila! When she saw you two in that pool? I thought (Y/N) was gonna kill her! I swear I was waiting for her to jump into the pool and end with her!"- Morgan laughed, picturing the scene in his mind. I sipped my whisky, not quite sure he was into something there.

- "I really think she didn't like her 'cos she found her annoying. (Y/N) finds most people annoying."

- "And not you. What does that tell us?"

- "That I am not annoying"- Morgan looked at me and opened his mouth to say something but stayed quiet. And instead, he just chuckled.

- "What about that waitress?"

- "Who?"

- "The one you picked up in the bar with a magic trick?"

- "I didn't pick on her!! I was doing my work and..."

- "And you got her phone number, and she sent you that card with a kiss..."- Morgan stared at me, waiting for a reaction- "Ok, in case you didn't notice, (Y/N) was jealous of her too."

- "She was mad 'cos she said I was unprofessional."

- "Ok, fine, whatever. And now, what's the plan, casanova? When are you telling her you love her?"

- "Now, tonight, after this drink,"- and I hurried to drink it faster.

- "What?"

- "I've got a love letter like Darcy gave to Lizzy."

- "Who the fuck are those?"

- "Her favorite characters from her favorite book"- I explained, annoyed, and drunk- "They were in love but never acted on it 'cos they were both proud and held severe prejudices against each other. So when he told her he loved her, it was a mess. Then, he wrote her a letter trying to explain to her why he had been nonsensical. Then she read it and realized she loved him, but thought it was too late, so both of them acted like nothing was going on until they realized they had been fools, and Darcy confessed his love, and she told him she loved him too..."

There was a blank stare in Morgan's eyes when I was done speaking.

- "How many times have you read that?"

- "Today? Eleven"

The way Morgan wide opened his eyes, shocked, made me think maybe I had overreacted with how many times I read Pride and Prejudice. But he didn't say anything, just nodded.

- "Ok, kid, you can't talk to her today."

- "Why now? I was actually going to drop by her apartment and read the letter."

- "Spencer, you are drunk."

- "I am not!"- I was, in fact, intoxicated.

- "Prove it!"- Derek dared me, chuckling

- "How? Want me to walk on a line and touch my nose with my fingers?"

- "Go talk to those girls over there"- he pointed at a bunch of women who kept flirting with him from a distance at the bar counter.

- "Why would I do that? I am in love! I just told you I am about to confess my true feelings to the one woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I swear, Morgan, if she says she loves me, I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

- "What?!"- my friend nearly choked with his drink.

- "Yeah! I've wasted too much time! I wanna marry that woman! In fact! I'm gonna tell her that right now!"- I stood up too quickly, and the whole room started spinning. Morgan grabbed my arm and forced me to sit down again.

- "Hold on, Reid! You need a round of water before we leave this bar."

- "No, Derek, you don't get it. I finally see everything clear now!! It's all clear!! I've loved her for so long... and maybe Frank is right, maybe she has loved me all along."

- "Dude, that's literally what I've been telling you for the last hour!!"- Morgan nearly yelled, frustrated.

- "Yeah, but Frank has been her best friend since they were four! Can you imagine? Little (Y/N) at four, playing... our kid would be so cute if they are like her."

- "Ok, Reid, you are creeping me out"

- "Why?"- I couldn't understand why Morgan was so shocked. I thought he wanted to know how I felt.

- "For the last five years, you've been in love with her, and you've denied it over and over again. And now suddenly, you get drunk and spill your heart open."

- "I just... I don't want these ghosts haunting me anymore. Julio was right!"

- "You lost me, man"

- "Our last case in Miami. My head was killing me, and Julio knew it. He said it was this job and everything I was bottling up that was driving me insane. Now I can see it clearly! I have to tell (Y/N) how I feel for her! That woman is the love of my life! She saved my life!!"

- "Calm down, Spencer."

- "Calm down?? She is out there with that guy!! What if they kiss again? What if they fuck?! No way! We have to stop her. I have to stop her!!"

I don't know how I got out of that chair and stormed out of the bar.

- "Reid! Wait!"

(Y/N)'s point of view

James was hot. Yes, that's true. I can't deny what's real. I saw him talking at the other side of the table, being charming, being fucking perfect. And there I was, not feeling anything. Nothing. Good old (Y/N) a few years ago would have been crazy for that guy. Before I met Spencer. But after Spencer.... There was nothing after him. And I could see it. I could feel it inside of me. How he had ruined me without even touching me. Does that make any kind of sense?

- "So, what do you do when you are not fighting crime?"- James asked me with the most charming smile. I just sighed and tried to look interested. I honestly wanted to try. But I soon realized everything I could answer included Spencer.

- "I am a big nerd, so I'm getting ready to go to Comicon this year."

- "In costume?!"- he widened his eyes and smiled, excited

- "Yes, of course. In costume is the only way to go to Comicon,"- in costume with Reid...

- "And which is your costume this year?"

- "Slave Leia"- James smiled mischievously and ran his tongue through his lips.

- "I won't miss this Comicon."

- "I also like hanging out with my friends. I usually host dinner parties 'cos I love cooking,"- with Spencer...

- "That's awesome, 'cos I love eating. Are you into board games?"

- "Yeah! Love them! We usually play a lot."

We. Spencer, and I.

I was doomed. I was never going to love anyone else. Spencer was overshadowing everything I might like about James. What did I actually like about James? That he was interested in me. Was Spencer interested in me? Lu said so. Garia said so. Emily said so. But I didn't. Why? Why couldn't I believe Spencer might love me? Was I terrified to lose him as a friend, or was I petrified to lose myself in him? Was I scared to be loved by him? To be happy? To have someone to love me, want me, and make me happy?

Was I scared of being loved by Reid? Of being happy with him? 'Cos each time I thought about it, it didn't feel like Spencer was just a guy I had a crush on or a guy I had fallen for. It felt like he was the love of my life, my happy ending. My forever after. And that scared the shit out of me. I've always been scared I would ruin the love of my life like my parents had destroyed their happiness. I knew the job was going to get in the middle. And I was already in love with my job.

Well... so was Reid.

In fact, we shared that love. We did everything together, including working. And god, I loved being in the field with him. I hated the fear of losing him I often felt whenever we were together, but the thrill of catching an unsub with Reid, of saving lives together. Nothing could ever compare to that. Well, maybe sex with Spencer, but I didn't know it for a fact. I wished I knew...

- "(Y/N)?"- James was looking at me, waiting for an answer. But I never got the questions. I was just lost in the thought of Spencer.

- "Sorry, you were saying?"

- "I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere else... Maybe you could show me your record collection."

Dinner was over. We had our dessert and coffee. A part of me felt I had to say yes, 'cos I felt pushed to like him. But I just couldn't force it. I knew it was meant to turn out badly.

- "Actually, I'm tired... I'm sorry. It was a long week and included a trip to Miami to catch a lunatic..."

- "Of course, not a problem. I'll take you home."

The drive back to my apartment was mostly silent. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't really comfortable either. It was just me feeling Spencer's absence. And it hurt in ways I hadn't realized just yet. It made me wonder if my life without him was destined to be like that.

- "I had a great time tonight,"- I said when James parked outside my building.

- "Me too..."- he turned to me and cut me a big smile, as his eyes locked with mine. I could see him leaning in, and my whole body refused to kiss him. So I opened my door and nearly jumped out of his car.

- "Ok, it's getting late."

- "I'll walk you to your door."

- "No, you don't have to."- but James was already by my side, holding my hand (something I absolutely hated) and walking with me to my building.

- "I have to tell you, (Y/N). I was hoping to meet you at Anderson's party."

Oh shit, I didn't really want to go through that conversation with him. I thought I could just ghost out of that dinner, but James wasn't making things easy. So I opened my building's door, and he followed me in. Shit.

- "I don't know if he told you anything but... I just had the biggest crush on..."

- "James, you don't have to..."

- "But I want to. I just feel like we could go somewhere. I know it's only our first date, but I think you are the most incredible woman I've ever met. And I would be ecstatic if you would want to go out with me again."

I sighed and turned to him. We were standing by my door, and I could feel he wanted to kiss me goodnight.

- "James. I feel flattered, but... I can't do this."

- "What? Why?"

- "Because I am in love with someone else... I've been in love for a while now, but I never thought I might have to actually act on it until now..."

James stared into my eyes, confused, hurt, and... sad. I nodded and did the kindest thing I could under the circumstances and hugged him.

- "I am sorry. You are a fantastic guy, and I'm sure if I wasn't in love already, this would have worked, but..."

- "It's ok, (Y/N). Really. You don't have to apologize. I was just one date, no harm done."- my date kissed my cheek and smiled- "Besides, I got to meet my favorite profiler."

- "Prentiss?"- I joked, and he chuckled.

- "And what are you gonna do about this mystery guy?"

- "I don't know. I don't think he feels the same... but I think I have to tell him, or I'll go crazy."

- "He would be crazy if he rejects you,"- James whispered and smiled- "Good night, crime fighter."

I closed the door behind my back and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I felt bad for James. But I couldn't take care of his feelings when I had been neglecting mine for so long.

What was I supposed to do? I was so tired of overthinking everything. Of being afraid. I put the kettle on to make myself a cup of tea and laid on my couch for a minute. It smelled like Spencer. There was one of his sweaters there. I quickly grabbed it and buried my face in it, pretending it was his neck, and I could even land butterfly kisses on his skin.

I couldn't run from it anymore. I was going to tell Spencer Walter Reid what I felt for him. And I was going to do it the following day. How? With my original plan: I was going to bring his favorite breakfast to his house. I was going to apologize for being a jerk, and I was going to invite him over for dinner. I was going to cook his favorite. Then I was slowly and carefully going to handpick the right words to tell him I am desperately in love with him.

That sounded like a good plan. My phone rang, forcing me to roll on that couch, but I carried Spencer's sweater with me. It was Penelope.

- "Please don't tell me we've got a case."

- "No, munchkin. I just wanted to check on you. What happened to James?"

- "I blew him off- I stood up and walked to the kitchen to make my cup of tea- "It was kind of painful."

- "I'm glad you did anyway. You have to do the right thing."

- "Yeah, I guess,"- I closed the widow 'cos there was a lot of yelling coming from the street.

- "Where are you?- Penelope asked, probably hearing it too.

- "At home, getting ready for bed."

- "What's that noise?"

- "I don't know. I think there's a fight downstairs. Anyway, tomorrow I'm gonna talk with Spencer and tell him everything."

- "Please let me know how that goes!!"- I chuckled as I heard the genuine excitement in her voice.

- "I promise I will. Thank you for checking on me."

- "Anytime, munchkin. Sleep tight."

Spencer's point of view

- "Oh shit! Oh shit!"

I saw (Y/N) getting out of James's car, and Derek had to hold me on my seat to stop me from running over. We were parked outside of her building, and Morgan was still trying to convince me to go home. I told him I would behave and peacefully go home if I saw (Y/N) reaching her home safe and sound... without James.

But no. He was there. I could see him walking with her, hand in hand, to her building.

- "Maybe he is just going to take her to her door,"- Morgan said, trying to calm me down. I clenched my fist and waited in silence for a few seconds. But James didn't leave her at her door. He followed her inside. And that was when I lost it and literally jumped off the car.

- "Reid!! No!! Wait!!"- Derek ran behind me and grabbed my arm. A car passed and honked at us, 'cos it almost ran me over. I wanted to yell, "Fuck you!" but I barely noticed it. My eyes were locked at that building's door.

- "Dude! Come on, get back in the car!"- Derek tried to calm me down.

- "No!"- I argued and kept pulling my arm, trying to get free of his hands. But he wasn't letting me go.

- "You are drunk! You are not thinking straight! Come on!!"

- "No! Let me go! I need to talk to her!

- "What you wanna tell her, you should confess sober, with flowers... and chocolates, or whatever she likes."

- "I can't wait anymore!! I can't wait until it's perfect!! He is going to kiss her again and... and I can't deal with that!!"- I managed to get loose of Derek's hand and ran to (Y/N)'s building the second James walked out of it.

My blood boiled as soon as I saw him, and my first instinct was to punch him, But I managed to suppress it. Instead, I just looked at him threateningly. Or at least that's what I tried to do.

- "What's your problem, dude?"- James frowned as he noticed me staring.

- "You are my problem, dude,"- I answered with a snarky tone as that asshole took a step closer and shook his head.

- "What the fuck?!"

- "Stay the fuck away from (Y/N), James,"- I said, and he widened his eyes, surprised I knew him.

- "Who the hell are you?!"

- "I am the love of her life, and you are in the way of our forever after."

- "Kid, come on"- Derek tried to pull me away, but he was just embarrassing me.

- "Yes, kid. Go with your buddy. Leave (Y/N) to me."

James chuckled and turned around. And I don't know what took over me, but I couldn't control it. I ran to him and pulled his shoulder. I felt the pain of my fist hitting his face, but I didn't care if my knuckles were on fire. All I could feel was the profound pleasure of finally breaking that guy's nose with my own hands.

- "What the fuck?!"- Derek was in shock, and honestly, so was I. I didn't know I had that in me. I had never gotten in a fight that wasn't with an unsub. And still, on the field, I always tried to talk my way out of every conflict.

- "He has to back off! He is getting in the middle of my relationship with my pumpkin!!"- I argued and looked at my hand, knowing it would be sore in the morning. That was when James's fist collided against my jaw, and I felt how my whole body nearly spun like a cartoon with the strength of the blow.

- "Hey! Hey! Stop!"- Derek pulled James away from me as I touched my face, trying to put two and two together.

- "Tell your friend to stay away from me, or I'm gonna break his face!!"

- "You and which army?!"- I yelled and tried to punch him again, but Morgan stayed between us, trying to keep us apart.

- "Ok, ok, calm down, we are leaving! Reid! Come on!!"

- "No!! I am not leaving until I am sure that he is going to stay away from her!!"

- "Stay away from (Y/N)? Deal! Now get the fuck away from me!"- James shoved me on his way to his car, and I nearly hit him again. But Derek stopped me. He grabbed my arms and pushed me to his car.

- "Enough! I'll take you home."

***

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @fandomtrash2405 @eyakoroleva @nani-2305

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: July 7th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #matthew gray gubler #Criminal Minds #Spencer Reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt #spencer reid angst #babymetaldoll writes #diwk #Penelope Garcia #Ashley Seaver #Emily Prentiss #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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cryptidmads · 4 years

Text

alright, so i went through the ama with wan hazmer and daim dziauddian on twitch and picked out every little tidbit i could about the megastars bc i knew you guys would want to know. this is a long post and i’m on mobile atm so i can’t put it under a read more — sorry about that! bosses are in chronological order, starting with DJSS and ending with Eve!

DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA

- djss took the least amount of time to develop out of all the bosses (haz says his fight took about half a year.)

- daim purposely tried to make djss' name as long as he could. he was specifically looking at negasonic teenage warhead from deadpool for inspiration.

- haz and daim do have the briefing/kliffnotes for djss. they discussed sharing them at some point, but idk when that would happen.

- related to the above, daim says that dj is in his mid thirties. EDIT: his kliffnotes were shared on twitter and they say he’s 41. daim must have goofed haha

- when asked if djss actually has a face and how he eats, daim compares it to kenny from south park and how you never see his face. he thinks dj does have a face in there, but that we just never see it. as for the “how does he eat” part, daim says that sometimes they don’t have to show everything.

- daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- daim said that uncle ali basically instantly landed the role as djss. he was that good.

SAYU

- sayu was obviously inspired by hatsune miku and other vocaloids, but haz brings up one particular commercial involving miku and google chrome, which involves a bunch of people collborating on songs and concept art for miku, similar to how sayu started as a collab between remi and tila in-universe.

- someone asked about the models for sayu's crew's apartments. there wasn't much on that, but haz mentions that one of his favourite nsr fanfics (yes, he reads them) is "Road to Redemption," and there's a scene that takes place in a studio where the crew works on sayu, and he really likes that.

- the devs wanted sayu's name to sound both malay and japanese at the same time (as well as a nod to miku). haz says it means “warm water” in japanese.

- akusuka is a direct copy of akihabara in terms of locale.

- sayu’s shellfish commercial is a homage to a real snack in malaysia named mamee monster, which is hugely popular with kids. the format of the commercial itself was inspired by a pocky commercial that featured hatsune miku.

YINU

- her game design (for her boss fight) was partially done in ms paint by music director falk (who made the base version of her boss theme)

- yinu's mom doesn't have a name. she's just mother/mama.

- haz confirmed that yinu's father is, in fact, dead.

- daim thought yinu’s name was a nod to yuna (a popular malaysian artist). it’s not.

- natura is daim’s favourite district. he likes how calm it is compared to the others.

- daim said that they wanted a hint of hope in all three of yinu’s backstory photographs, to show that no matter how bad your life gets, there’s always that glimmer of hope and that good things can still happen.

1010

- the members of 1010 do not have any official names.

- the assets for the autographs were made by the artists at one of the partner companies working with metronomik on nsr. haz and daim didn't really have anything to do with making them, and while daim did approve them for the final game, he was sorta skimming through a bunch of assets along with the autographs, and he didn't realize what they really were at the time until later. haz is impressed with how the fans managed to decipher them.

- 1010's fight was purposefully put between yinu's and eve's as a break from the emotional stuff.

- michael jackson was used as a reference for 1010's animations/moves.

- the Bio Tactical Shield that you get for zuke after beating 1010 is a reference to BTS.

- tangibly related, but the collectable figurines are supposed to serve more as a backstory to vinyl city as a whole, rather than 1010 or neon j. daim describes the figures as what events were going on and what people were doing before the events of nsr.

- 1010’s appearance from older trailers (where they all looked the same) were actually placeholders. 1010’s actual designs weren’t finished yet when those trailers were released.

- parts of 1010’s designs (for their bodies/outfits) were inspired by tron uprising, a project that daim worked on.

- somebody asked why 1010 and neon j have sculpted butt plates. daim and haz have no idea, but daim suggested that ellie (who designed 1010) and jan (who did their character models) put them there to up the “sexy robot” factor.

- daim’s favourite member of 1010 is purl-hew/blue, and haz’s favourite is eloni/green.

- the members of 1010 were designed based on popular tropes in boy bands. rin/white is “the main guy,” zimelu/red is the “bad boy,” purl-hew/blue is the “cool guy,” haym/yellow is the “young/innocent one,” and eloni/green is the “weird/funny one.”

- eloni/green not getting fan mail was based on how the “funny guy” of kpop bands/idol groups don’t seem to get as much attention as the rest of the group.

NEON J

- haz and daim didn't expect neon j to become so popular. haz joked about blaming it on ddaddystar, who did that doodle of djss and neon j from the credits.

- when asked about neon j’s age, daim said he’s definitely older than djss, and that he could be in his forties.

- related to the age thing, someone in chat said he should be older if he went to war in the sixties. haz replied by saying they never mentioned what year the game takes place in, so it doesn’t necessarily take place in the present/2020.

- a lot of people asked about the border wars, and daim and haz said they like leaving the bulk of it up to fan interpretation.

- daim said that neon j’s organs were preserved in a robotic shell after the war, and that’s why he’s considered a cyborg.

- as stated above, daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- neon j’s monologue was slightly longer, but it was cut down because zul (neon j’s va) didn’t do very many takes for the monologue, and the takes he did do didn’t have the comedic punch that daim was looking for, so it got shortened.

- the singing parts of neon j’s lines were ad-libbed by zul in his audition, and daim liked it so much that it stayed for the final game.

- neon j’s monologue had to be altered in the japanese dub so that the jokes/comedy would make more sense.

EVE

- the color changing paintings from her boss fight were created by accident.

- eve was put as the last boss because of how emotional her relationship with zuke was and how complicated and intricate she is as a whole compared to the rest of the bosses.

- daim considers eve to be the "final boss" for zuke, while tatiana is the final boss for mayday.

- eve took the longest to develop out of all the bosses. she was orignally a lot more complicated, and daim said they had to "filter" a lot of things about her in order to tone her down and fit her into the game.

- eve was almost scrapped from the game. daim said her concept as an eccentric artist wasn't as well known as the other four bosses’ concepts, and combine that with how long it took to finalize her... yeah.

- none of the artists have set in stone heights because of how the gameplay works, but eve is the tallest one. the closest scene in the game that has them at their actual heights is the ending.

- her name was originally eva, but it was changed bc there’s already a popular artist with the same name.

- daim explains that a big part of eve’s concept and theme is her embracing herself. he uses the example of eve’s backstory where she starts out hating herself and trying to cover the pink half of her face, but then starts doing less of that overtime. he also mentions that all the body parts (hands, arms, legs, etc.) from her fight also come from her embracing her body and using it in her artwork.

- dream fever is haz’s favourite district.

- daim didn’t originally think of zuke and eve as being an actual couple until later down the line when the story heavily implied it.

- eve’s younger designs were done by lzbros, who did all the 2d animation for the game.

#long post #no straight roads #nsr #dj subatomic supernova #nsr sayu #yinu nsr #1010 #neon j #eve nsr #madison speaks #this was fun! good stream good facts #nsr ama #1k

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servingy-nneeds · 3 years

Text

PROMPT:HOW WOULD THEY REACT WITH A BIG BREASTED S/O: VILLAIN EDITION

Dabi

“You got them big tits” he said nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders when you were first introduced in the League of Villains

He would notice your above average breast but that’s it

Honestly doesn’t see the appeal with boobs, as he would put it, tits are tits.

Although, he understands your charms and has used you multiple times as an information gatherer mainly on male Pro heroes, other times on female pro heroes

Lets you wear whatever makes you feel comfortable; You want to wear baggy shirts and pants go for it. Wanted to wear badass clothes that shows of your curves? Hell go for it. He ain’t gonna guilt trip you into hiding your assets, if you have it, “fuckin flaunt it” as he say

When you first started dating he was still aloof with you, however was quick to avert you away from the League of Villains whenever you want to mingle with them. His reason was that “they aren’t the most sane people to be around”

Quite the prick when someone tries to hit on you

Namely going behind you and groping your knockers in front of the poor soul who decided his luck with you. He does this every damn time just to point out that yes you belong to him and yes he better be damn jealous of Dabi’s privilege

And if being dense was the offender’s choice of action. Well, cremation awaits for the other guys/girls, his hands ain’t rated E for nuthin’

It irritates him when one of his companion, most likely Shigaraki, stares at your tits for a second too long. He was rude to him to no end for the whole week. Doesn’t trust Shigaraki enough to leave you with him alone

Jests that you stay with him in order to scare off potential perverts. He was after all your ‘big bad boyfriend’

It doesn’t matter on how you two went to sleep that night, you always wake up to an arm under your breast or a hand exactly at your boob

You caught him sometimes staring at a mirror tracing his scars and then back at you wondering if you would finally realized you’re too good for a nobody like him

He KNOWS he has a shitty personality and looks and isn’t the best boyfriend out there for you

You learned that he responds well at cuddling and surrounding him with positive affirmations

BONUS✨: You tried surprising him with the whole concept of only wearing his coat with nothing underneath it. You think he appreciates the thought, but really, if your rearing to go just ask him.

Shigaraki

When you were first introduced to the League of Villains he didn’t even greet you and openly staring down under your chin never meeting your eyes. Thus, your first impression of him was pervert and imprudent, how is he the boss anyway?.

He just openly stared at your breasts until somebody pointed it out Dabi and Kurogiri

“Boss I think it goes dinner first eye fuckin later yeah?“

“I think this person would appreciate if you stopped undressing them with your eyes Shigaraki”

Unlike Dabi, this man would be obsessed with your boobs

One time you wore a low cut shirt and he had the audacity of blaming you for distracting him.

You kneed him in the gut for that comment followed by scampering off for your dear life

He would like to think he is sneaky with his glances

But honestly EVERYONE knows he’s ogling your breast

Doesn’t had a lot as a child which explains why he is quite childish and selfish with you when you two started going out

Would literally kill someone for you, LITERALLY

Someone just happened to look at you? boom dust. Someone just asked for direction and he didn’t liked the way the stranger looked at you? boom ashes

One time you heard him mutter a “+5 points” for wearing a round collared neck shirts and a “+30 points” for wearing the low cut shirt

Please someone tell this man that breasts are actually fragile and not some stress ball

A night with him results in sore breasts littered with bruises and bite marks

BONUS✨: Loves being babied resting his head on your breast. Doesn’t care if you were taking nap, nor does he care that he was trespassing on your room and privacy. Your breasts are open for naps? boom there his head goes. “Honestly, stop flaunting them” he argued to you one day.

Mr. Compress

When you were introduced to the League of Villains for the first time he low key hinted that he needs assistant for his magic tricks and you just so happened to be quite his type the distraction he needed

Another ‘all tits are tits’ kind of man

He may want all the applause of the world but lives for your amusement

Reserves all his pretty tricks for you

Is canonically a showman at heart so don’t take it the wrong way when he said that you were the center of attention, “it’s a compliment” he argues

Has a love hate relationship with the idea of you being the center of attention

He loves that everyone is staring at a glory that is you

Hates the idea that everyone is staring lecherously at you

Uses the phrase “You’re so cute I wish I can keep you inside my pockets all the time” quite literally

One time you got sent together with him at a public area, say the mall, to gather intels on pro heroes where you went separate ways. When he went back to you lo and behold you were being surrounded by horny males who just wants to get sum of that piece

He was quite flashy with distracting them, he called it a magician’s trick, but really all he did was asked you to be his assistant and then the next minute you were in his breast pocket no where to be seen

You threw a fit after you were decompressed

He apologized for doing his parlor tricks unto you without consent. Lowkey would do it again if ever you were in trouble or he’s just downright jealous

Would love for you to wear a magician’s assistant garb; the one with the top hat, corset, long coat and really anything that allows for an easy misdirection of tricks for his advantage.

BONUS✨:Wearing his costume or anything of his turns it on for him. One time he made you wear his top hat and only his top hat while he was scrambling up your guts.

Twice

When you were first introduced to the League of Villains he greeted you with “You look fuckin hot to bed” “ or to Wed”

Being teamed up with him was both exhausting and amusing at the same time

He would likely drop some random conversations like “You know we could be fucking each other at this time?” “Remember to focus at our mission, ‘mkay?”

Although his multiple personalities often clash with each other, protecting you is always their top priority.

You have to be really patient and understanding when dating this man. His shifts from hot to cold personality, so some days he would be praising you, and then some other days he is giving you the cold shoulder

“I could do better than you” “You’re literally my whole world”

Poor man was lonely to death and gets a lot more unstable when you leave him alone. Like he would cry a river and put up some kinda tantrum if you’re not there with him to accompany him

You caught him one day with a clone version of you cuddling him to sleep. You weren’t sure if you call this cheating or cry that he was so lonely he even considered cloning you to be with him.

However when you cleared your throat announcing your return, his expression was a mixture of shock, relief and a hint of embarrassment

Though he immediately rushed over to you once he saw the real you standing at the doorway. “Why did you leave me all alone?!” “I never missed you, you know?”

Both you and the clone was standing there awkwardly with Jin still clinging at your side

“Are my boobs really that big?” you asked trying to break the tension

He would just grab them saying “It’s humongous!” then removing his hands and inspecting said boobs the very next seconds saying “Nah they’re perfect for me”

Eventually the clone returned to being a mud and both of you agreed to never clone yourself again unless he’s really really desperate

BONUS✨: Is very spontaneous with his affection one minute the two of you would be 6 feet apart watching some kid’s cartoon the next minute he would be crawling all over you asking you to suffocate him hold his head dearly against your bosoms

#bnha x reader #imagines #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #twice x reader #mr compress x reader #reader insert #bnha imagines #bnha villain #servingy/nneeds

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thelibraryloser · 2 years

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2021 Creator Self-Love Extravaganza!

Thanks for the tag, @jennagrinsoverml !

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2021. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so forget the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

well, this year (and by that I mean last year; I’m a touch late) was actually my first year posting stories, and I wanted to start off by thanking everyone for being so welcoming on here! I was very intimidated to post my first ever chapter and I didn’t expect people to read it, much less leave such nice encouragement.

I’m sitting at 10 published stories totaling 66500 words (people have asked and yes, I compulsively re-edit to force the even numbers). Here are my top five based on an arbitrary personal ranking system I can’t explain:

1. Imbalance

15/15, 40700 words, rated T

This was my multichapter chat noir vigilante au where he is fighting evil all on his own (until he isn’t) and he meets a girl on a balcony. I’m afraid of giving away all the surprises so instead of a summary I will put one of my favorite marichat conversations from chapter three:

“You seemed a little jumpy when I first saw you.”

“A perfectly reasonable reaction, considering I thought I was being attacked.”

“You were being rescued. People always make that mistake.”

“Maybe you’re rescuing people wrong.”

This story is my number one for every possible reason. I wrote the whole thing for myself before I published a single word, and I was reluctant to to publish it. I worried that people wouldn’t like it and that their opinions would ruin it for me. But everyone reacted to every part just like I hoped they would, even picking out the tiny details I was so fond of (the ch. 9 thumb thing, amiright?). This was my first fandom experience, and I learned that it is even more fun to share the things you love with other people. (oh and people made fanart? and I cried?)

If you have a day to spare, please go read it because I’m so proud of it.

2. Star Crossed Series

Three one-shots that could be alone but are better together (like ladynoir) , 5500 words total, rated G

“So, he kept the Ladybug and the Cat apart because he knew that together they were stronger and they would certainly defeat him. But one day, despite the Butterfly’s evil plotting, they found a way to be together. You see, they… they loved each other.”

Chat went completely still beneath her.

“They both loved each other very much.” She could feel her heart racing, but she pressed on. “In… in the story.”

Post-Chat Blanc angst and I love this for two parts: the ladynoir and the feeeeeeels

3. Since We’ve No Place to Go (Let It Snow)

One-Shot, 4600 words, rated G

Marichat, snowed in together, only one bed, chaotic best friend energy. I had an impossible time picking a favorite from the A Very Lovesquare Christmas trope series, so I went with this one because I am the treasurer of Marichat nation. My favorite part: Marinette tries to guess Chat’s real name (wrong answers only).

4. The Stomach Bug

One-shot, 1900 words, rated G

Ladybug takes a sick day. Chat is very concerned.

Me again with the plot-twists. This is some adorable domestic fluff and I don’t want to spoil anything but I love this one because it’s fun and really, really cute.

5. Somebody Waits for You (Kiss Her Once For Me)

One-shot, 2900 words, rated T

This is another Very Lovesquare Christmas trope story featuring Ladynoir stuck under the mistletoe. I picked it because... okay, truth time, because I was really proud of the kiss. I wasn’t sure I could write one and I was a disaster the whole time.

Also the line “what’s got her jingle in a jam?” and #ladynoir forever.

That was fun! I am tagging anyone who sees this and wants to participate.

#tag game #not to toot my own horn but toot toot #ml fic rec #miraculous ladybug

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ironlime · 3 years

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60 Years After

So somebody in the tumblrverse posted about their headcannon in which Ned Coats was Sam Vimes' kid having traveled through time. I am a fan of this. It explains a lot. So when I read it back in... April? I then sat down and wrote up this little fanfic thing. And assumed that I could not only get it posted today, but also edit it so that it's not filled with so many of my own headcannons. And is closer to the original material. But L-Space is my job, and it really does do crazy things to time (and space.) On top of that I was really hoping I could post this to that original headcannon post but... I can't find it. So, OP, if you come across this... Well, I'm sorry. I'm more sorry to Sir Terry (GNU), though.

Quick note: my friends and I have found it easier to call Vimes' kid "Wee Sam" than "Young Sam" because "Young Sam" is one of the names (along with Vimesy and Lance Constable Vimes) that Vimes calls his younger self and... yeah. We find it confusing when nerding out about a single series with two different characters called 'Young Sam'. So we Feegle it up. Even though I wouldn't be surprised if 'Wee Sam' is actually a bit taller than his dad.

~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

“What happened just then, Sarge? You blurred.” Wee Sam said, while he thought Oh so that’s what that looks like.

“You only get one question, Ned,” The man who would be his father looked a little seasick, and Wee Sam knew exactly how he felt. “Now, let’s show Snapcase where the line’s drawn, shall we? Let’s finish it--”

To the majority of people there that day, Sergeant-At-Arms John Keel stood, turned towards the enemy, and charged. To two people, Commander Sam Vimes ran towards Carcer, ready to drag him kicking and screaming into the past. Or the future. Depending on who you asked.

That was what gave Wee Sam his frame of reference, actually. He remembered hearing stories about Carcer, about how his dad had arrested the bastard the day Wee Sam was born. But was this actually May 25th for his dad? Was this weeks before the arrest? Hours? He couldn’t ask. Not yet.

“Glad to see you’ve joined us and are getting along with the Sarge, Coats.” Fred Colon said, touching him on the shoulder as they ran towards the fight.

“Yeah, Fred.” Oh, Fred. Fred Colon had died a few years ago, happy and surrounded by great-grandchildren. But here and now he was young and actually capable of running. And he was running towards the fray.

Sweeper had told Wee Sam to stay away from the center of the fight, and to try not to actually kill anybody, so he stayed on the edge near the unconscious Lance-Constable Sam Vimes who had been hidden by his older, more cynical self. Three men in a battle with the same name, and two of them were the same person. Good thing Wee Sam was the only one who had to really keep track of which of them was where. He certainly didn’t trust anybody else to.

So he fought, in a very curbed way, knocking his adversaries unconscious when he could and doing his best not to step on Nobby Nobbs, who was doing his best to very slowly inch away from the battle while simultaneously pretending to be a corpse. Over by the Watch House, Reg Shoe was doing a much better impersonation of a corpse, seeing as how he was one, but in a couple of hours he’d discover that it just didn’t work for him.

“You’re nicked, my ol’ chum.” It was probably because he had been listening for it, but his father’s whisper carried. Nobody else seemed to hear it, and nobody but Wee Sam turned in time to see the two men vanish. In the same instant, a single body appeared on the ground near where they had been. So, now that he had seen that through, there was one more…

A dark grey-green shadow passed by his shoulder, and his mind registered Uncle Havelock before adding the word Young.

Havelock Vetinari ran into the fight, cutting down Carcer’s men much more brazenly than the Assassin's Guild would like, a lilac bud between his teeth. Even in Wee Sam’s time, when Vetinari’s wardrobe consisted entirely of black and everything he did was in moderation, the Patrician indulged in a little drama on a regular basis.

He chose to have Commander Sam Vimes in his life, after all.

There was a sound to Wee Sam’s left, which he recognized though his mind didn’t associate any words with it. It was a sound any human would recognize, even those who first approached the Delta where the Ankh River met the Circle sea thousands of years ago. If Wee Sam had to find Morporkain words for it, and as a Vimes he did like to use his vocabulary, they were Confused, followed by Hurt followed by… wait for it… there it was. Anger.

Wee Sam could make that noise, though he rarely did. His father’s upbringing, on the other hand, had been considerably less balanced. The kid who was the source of the sound ran into the center of the fight, and Wee Sam deftly stepped out of his way while pushing an adversary in his way. The boy chopped down the Unmentionable with one graceful movement, and Wee Sam felt that he could safely say that he hadn’t been the one to kill the bastard. And nobody had been so foolish as to tell him to prevent his father from killing anybody.

Vetinari didn’t pause, but he did turn to look at this vengeful newcomer. Vetinari hadn’t been there when young Sam Vimes participated in the first part of the battle, and Wee Sam recognized the young assassin’s look of interest.

Tell me, Uncle Havelock, will you recognize him in 15 years? Or will you need to get him well and truly angry to realize you’ve found him?

Wee Sam knew this wasn’t the first time Havelock Vetinari saw Sam Vimes, but this was probably the first time he saw the potential. That he was more than just That Kid Who Follows Keel Everywhere. I bet you didn’t actually expect him to be so damned smart. His father still didn’t think of himself as intelligent. It was infuriating, especially when he and his father were having a disagreement. A drawn out, decade-long, disagreement.

Young Sam Vimes sent a lot of the Unmentionables running, and Wee Sam cut down any of them which could be seen as ‘coming towards him with a drawn weapon’. Since they were escaping a fight, that was anyone who came within reach not wearing a lilac.

Time travel really can get to a man. He thought, feeling a little cold. There would be no arrests here, just death and fleeing and at the end of the day Sam Vimes, Havelock Vetinari, Fred Colon, Gaskin, and, less literally, Nobby Nobbs and Reg Shoe would all be left standing. That was all that mattered.

He saw Vetinari turn away from young Sam Vimes, who then spun, and for the briefest moment they had their backs to each other, and Wee Sam wished he had his paints. It was a gods awful place to paint, there was a reason battles were always ‘immortalized’ after the fact, but the color and everything was just perfect--

And then the color faded.

“You should have fallen by now.” Sweeper observed from behind him.

“I wanted to see them fight together.” Wee Sam admitted, not turning. He had a notebook on him, and a pencil, but he knew that even with Time paused he didn’t really have it. Not to sit down and do a proper preliminary sketch. He was just going to have to remember.

Vetinari had a stiletto, an assassin’s weapon used to kill up-close. Young Sam Vimes hadn’t learned to dual-wield yet, but he had good instincts for the sword. Wait until you discover the axe.

Sweeper sighed. “Fine, and now you’ve seen it. I’m going to put the time back on and you had better be prepared to drop.”

“Yes yes alright.” Wee Sam shifted slightly, so he could seriously inconvenience the man who he was blocking before he dropped.

“Oh and stop killing people.”

“I’m a Vimes. You knew that when you hired me.”

“Indeed.” Sweeper said, and it took Wee Sam a moment to realize it was an attempt at a Vetinari impression. Before Wee Sam could reply, the color came back, and his adversary frowned in confusion.

“Oi, you blurred!” The man cried.

“This just isn’t your day.” Wee Sam gave the man a wound which might heal, if somebody tended to it within the next 10 minutes, and then fell over in a needlessly complicated way, specifically so he wouldn’t hit Nobby Nobbs.

And when he landed, the boy was looking right at him, frowning. Damn, Nobby was always the brains of Colon & Nobbs.

“You ain’t injured.” The boy hissed at him.

“Try to pick my pockets and you’ll regret it.” Wee Sam whispered back. Of course he wouldn’t dream of hurting Nobby, but the kid didn’t know that. Besides, picking the contents of his pockets back would be a relaxing way to end the day.

Nobby was still frowning at him. “You got eyes like the Sarge...”

“Nobby, get out of here before you get stepped on.” Wee Sam growled in his best imitation of his father, the Sergeant, within the past three days. The kid’s eyes went wide, and he took off running. Wee Sam glanced over to where Vimes and Vetinari were taking care of the last of Carcer’s men, and the color faded once more.

“I hope you are pleased with yourself.” Sweeper said, which Wee Sam took to mean he could stand up and dust himself off.

“Young Vimes and Vetinari live to grow up and become two of the most powerful men in Ankh-Morpork history, Carcer went back to his time more or less accompanied by my my dad so the one can be arrested by the other, your rogue ‘Time Vigilantes’ have been sorted out, oh and I don’t cease to exist either. My work here is d--” He stopped, and watched as Q and some other Technical Monks lay down a man about the same age, size and coloring as Wee Sam. “Wait, so there really was a Ned Coats?”

Sweeper had walked off without him, and Wee Sam jogged to catch up. The old monk didn’t turn to look at him when they were side-by-side, but he did start talking. “Of course there was. He was also from Psudopolis and knew the real Keel.”

“How’d he die?”

“The Agony Aunts, on his first day here. He was the real reason the real Keel accepted a job in Ankh-Morpork. The real Ned Coats was not a good man.”

“Keel... left his home to track down a criminal…” Wee Sam slowed. “That’s what my dad did! As Keel! Only, it was Carcer he had to catch.”

“Time likes continuity.” Sweeper nodded, and thanked Wee Sam quietly for holding the door open as they entered the monastery. Once in the building, color returned, with motion and sounds and smells. They were back in the Present.

The walk through the building was in relative silence, the rumbling of the procrastinators keeping it from ever becoming truly quiet here. Wee Sam could sleep almost anywhere, but the rumbling reminded him of the steam engines back home and Susan’s offer to help him find a job in Sto Lat ‘if he really couldn’t stay in Ankh-Morpork’.

Not long after his parents first met his dad had gotten fired for a couple of days, and his mom had offered to get him a job working for Susan’s parents. Susan had been young then, and sometimes he wondered what kind of person she would have grown up to be with his dad as part of her household staff.

Of course, with his parents living in two different cities, he would have never been born.

His mother would have never left Ankh-Morpork.

Then again, his father had chosen not to leave. He had stayed on the case. He… sorted it out, more or less. He kept Vetinari from getting killed. Had he done that during the battle? Young Sam and Vetinari had been facing opposite directions, had Vimesy blocked any blows aimed at the future patrician?

There was the crunch of stones under his feet, and Wee Sam consciously acknowledged they had arrived at the Garden of Inner-City Tranquility. His eyes swept the space, falling on and acknowledging the Cigarette Pack of Air, the Cat Doings of Disharmony, the Sonkie of Organic Harmony, the Cabbage Stalks of Dim Comprehension, the Discarded Fish-And-Chip Wrapper of Infinity, the Beer Bottle of Pissing Off Sweeper, and….

“The Cigar of Capriciousness is still here.” Wee Sam said, stopping between the door and the bench Sweeper always went to. He tilted his head slightly. “Or… Another cigar. Same brand, same style, smoked the same amount, probably by the same man, at the same angle... but it’s wrapped just a little differently.”

“Is it? I’ve stopped noticing.”

“You haven’t noticed the cigar that’s been smouldering here for the past month?” Wee Sam turned to Sweeper in disbelief. “I understand not paying attention to the condoms and cat doings, but time passes in here!”

Sweeper shrugged. “There is always a cigar. Even if we get rid of it, a new one shows up. If the new one lands closer to the wall, the garden always pushes it to the center.”

“Always? Since, what, the dawn of time?”

“Oh no. Since the day you were born. Or thirty years before. It’s hard to say.” Sweeper was looking at him evenly, and Wee Sam suddenly realized his reaction was being gauged.

“My dad. But…” Wee Sam looked at the cigar. “He doesn’t smoke them anymore.”

“He does. On special occasions.”

“Like what?”

“Your birthday. And when he pays certain visits.”

“He talked you into not keeping me on?” His gaze moved swiftly from the old man to the cigar, and with purpose he stalked into the middle of the garden and brought his foot back, prepared to give the thing a swift kick.

“You did that just fine without his help.” Sweeper’s voice was quiet, but it froze Wee Sam where he stood. “Corporal, we both know you don’t want to do this.”

“The mission is over. Coats is dead. I’m not a corporal anymore.” His foot fell heavily, not coming into contact with the cigar but still sending a spray of stones ahead of them. He scowled as they came sliding back towards him, settling where they had been around his foot. “This job is the closest I’ve ever gotten to what I was made to do.”

“I realize that. I’m sorry.”

There was some silence as the last of the stones slid into place. The procrastinators here were small, used only for the bathrooms in the far right corner, even though the city’s sewer pipe system now meant that they were just inconveniencing themselves in exchange for saving very little money. Wee Sam had done the math.

“Did you tell Susan?” Wee Sam didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but he also didn’t want anybody else to explain that he had squandered this opportunity.

“No. That is your problem, my boy.”

“Good.” Wee Sam squatted down, getting a closer look at his father’s cigar. The smell brought him back to his childhood, and it was comforting if not at all healthy. His mother had never allowed them in the house, but his father smoked them all the time outside and in his office, so the scent clung to his uniform like… Well like Wee Sam had back then. “Please don’t hold… me... against her. She was just looking out for me. She does that. Wish I knew why.”

“She is aware of your potential.” Sweeper said, and Wee Sam was so surprised he looked over his shoulder at the old man. “You’re good at investigating and putting the pieces together. And, some day, you will once again make a very good cop.”

“Someplace other than Ankh-Morpork.” Wee Sam grunted, but the old man shrugged, and he asked, hopefully “In Ankh-Morpork but in the future?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“No, it’s for my father to say.” He glared at the cigar, and then pushed himself to a standing position.

“You know, I didn’t just take you on because Susan asked and there happened to be another Vimes-shaped opening.” Sweeper said as Wee Sam turned towards the door.

“No?”

“I wanted to get to know the man the Theives Guild deemed ‘too dangerous’ for membership.” Sweeper sounded amused, and Wee Sam turned to look at him.

“I keep killing people. Assassin's school graduate, and all.” Wee Sam reminded him, but Sweeper waved the comment away.

“We both know neither of those things are relevant to today’s theive’s guild.” Sweeper shook his head. “Your father is afraid of you becoming him; and, well, so is everyone else. Vimeses walk in and take control. Especially under Vetinari’s influence.”

“And how do you know what my father is afraid of?” Wee Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. He was choosing to ignore the comment about Vetinari’s influence because it was true. After 300 years of cops and / or drunks it took Havelock Vetinari telling his father ‘not’ to investigate three deaths to bring his family name back to the list of the city’s gentry.

“You should ask him.” Sweeper did not ignore the narrowed eyes, but he did meet them evenly. “What he’s afraid of.”

Wee Sam turned towards the door, intending to stalk out, then thought better of it and spun so he was completely facing the old man. “You know what? I think I will.”

Then he ran, took a leap to place one foot on the bench beside Sweeper and jumped so his hands easily grasped the top of the wall. His own momentum brought him sideways, and he hurtled over the top. There was an alley on the other side, and he landed lightly. He was exactly where he expected to be, of course, and took off at a run towards the Cemetery of Small Gods.

And slowed to a walk before he reached the gates. It would not do for him to be out of breath when he arrived at the graves.

Twilight was falling, so his dad would be there, but so would Uncle Havelock and maybe Reg Shoe. Wee Sam was less concerned about how Reg saw him, especially now that he had seen Reg alive, but as far as his family was concerned he wanted to take steps towards appearing dignified. Even though they had known him his whole life, and knew better.

Sure enough, he passed Reg first. The Zombie was carrying a long-handled shovel over his left shoulder, and nodded in acknowledgement. Wee Sam managed to nod back before they passed each other.

He had expected Reg to recognize him. Reg had never noticed him behind the barricade, his father never noticed him behind the barricade, but Wee Sam had been playing Ned Coats for a full month before Sam Vimes had shown up as John Keel. Maybe Reg had never noticed that his father was Keel? How did Zombie memories work, anyway? Their brains certainly weren’t making new pathways… Did vampyre brains make new pathways?

This train of thought kept him pretty well occupied, along with the question of how he could politely go about getting some answers, when he noticed Uncle Havelock and his ‘cane’ striding silently towards him. A simple nod wouldn’t do.

“Good evening, Uncle Havelock.” Wee Sam called, since his mother had drummed into his head that you always greeted your superiors first. Admittedly, this sometimes meant that he approached his uncle with a question about what he would call the color of the sunset above a specific building at that exact moment, or if there was a poison which exploded in a particularly satisfactory fashion, but the patrician never complained. Nor did he complain if Wee Sam wandered in his office and started talking about alternative methods for coding clax messages or an unusual bird he had noticed riding the thermals above the University. And, thank gods, Havelock Vetinari knew that a formal greeting from Wee Sam Vimes meant that he didn’t want to talk.

“Happy Birthday, Wee Sam.” His uncle replied, “I trust you’ll be on time for dinner?”

Oh. That was a reminder. And a warning. “Thank you. Yes, we won’t be long.”

“Good. See you then.” The Patrician nodded, and then passed him.

“Yes.” Wee Sam muttered, and then reached for his pocket watch. When he pulled it out, he saw the time was all wrong and swore quietly. Well, from the graves he would be able to see the Tower of Art, and set his watch to the present. The battle of the lilac boys had been in the mid-morning, and it was most definitely not a quarter to noon.

John Keel’s grave marker was wood, and though it had been replaced often it had never been strong enough to support the weight of an average-sized man. Reg’s, on the other hand, was granite, and he apparently didn’t mind that Commander Sam Vimes leaned against it more and more every year.

Wee Sam didn’t make any noise, he never made any noise, but he could never sneak around his father. Commander Sam Vimes turned his head ever so slightly, and Wee Sam tooka good look at him.

Oh gods, he was so old. When had that happened? True, the last time he had seen his father he must have been about 50, but before that Wee Sam had spent three decades watching his father age and yet… It had never struck him so hard. He never could quite reconcile his memories of young Sam Vimes, that kid who had joined The Watch for three square meals a day and a little extra cash for his family. But he hadn’t thought his father had changed so much.

The old man looked him up and down. “How’d the battle go? After I left?”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly, and looked down at his outfit. He had forgotten to change into the clothes he had left at the monastery. This outfit was a uniform the Monks had given him, so he wouldn’t have the problems ‘accidental’ time travelers experienced with their clothes and meals and things staying in the time they came from. He even still had his lilac, somehow, even though that had come from the past.

“Don’t you remember?” You kicked ass.

His father shook his head. “I remember the original timeline, when Keel died at the barricade. I was pretty sure Coats wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he was, either.”

“I guess Vetinari showed up?” His father smirked. “Had a lilac in his teeth and everything?”

“I thought you didn’t remember it.” Wee Sam frowned.

“I don’t, but he tells me about it sometimes. I think he’s waiting for me to remember, or maybe now he’s wondering why I don’t.”

“Because time travel is a mess.” Wee Sam turned away from his father and looked across the city. He could see his family’s house from here.

“So Sweeper explained it to you?” The interest in his voice was practically tactile.

“No, but I had to run around for a month foiling somebody who had been sent to kill Havelock Vetinari. And it gave me time to wonder.”

“Why it was different the first time around?”

Wee Sam shook his head. “Would I have survived being born if you didn’t go back and meet Lawn?”

There was absolute silence between them, until Commander Sam Vimes quietly swore.

“Sweeper told me you have to think of things as one event in front of another, which is fine, except if you hadn’t gone back in time you wouldn’t have known Lawn was competent. You had heard of him, sure, but he would have never crossed your mind.”

“So we owe your existence to the damn time monks?” There was an angry edge to his father’s voice, but Wee Sam already knew his father was protective as hell. That was how he had gotten into this mess. Sort of.

“No. As far as I can tell, we owe it to some modern young idiots who thought they could go back and kill Vetinari. Time tries to fix things, and so you were sent back in time, to meet Lawn and Carcer went with you and killed Keel so there was a place for you to be and when you were done my life got saved and the monks were able to send me back to save Vetinari’s life and… Time is what it should be. Go us.” There was something about owing his life to terrorists that made him feel sarcastic.

“For all we know Vetinari or Rosie Palm might have recommended Lawn.” His father pointed out, which wasn’t a bad alternative. But it wasn’t what had happened, and there wasn’t really anybody they could ask. At least, nobody who they could ask who would give them a meaningful answer. They both knew Vetinari was a capable doctor, but apparently neither of them could imagine Vetinari getting involved in a problematic birth when there were other competent people around to do it.

More silence. Wee Sam noticed the time on the Tower of Art, and pulled his watch back out. If they were going to avoid talking about the massive argument they had that morning, he may as well take the time to re-set his watch.

“There was the sound of dice.” His father said so quietly that it didn’t initially register.

“Hm?” Wee Sam pushed the pin in, and watched with satisfaction as his watch and the tower struck the time at the exact same minute.

“Before the Library got struck by lightning. There was the sound of dice. Were the people who wanted to kill Havelock associated with a specific god?”

“I… Don’t know. They didn’t say anything about one.” He shut the watch, and shoved it in his pocket. ‘Havelock’ meant his dad was worried. “But there was a thunderstorm, right? Was the sound of dice rolling at the exact moment as the thunder?’

“Yes.”

“Io!” They both said it at the same moment, and Wee Sam felt his heart fall to his stomach. The self-proclaimed King of the Gods had been trying to subjugate their family for a long time. The only reason he had eased up lately was because Wee Sam had trained with the witches in Lancre. And so, to a lesser extent, had his father. It made them harder targets. But Io was still The Thunder God because he had murdered all the others. And then there was the question of who he would be forced to answer to. And how. Neither of the Vimes men had an axe sharp enough for that.

“Damn, why didn’t I realize that?” His father asked the night at large.

“The gods are always playing games. And besides, you had no reason to think Io was responsible for… Well he’s probably not responsible for the Dragon Incident, at least. Or the Goblin Incident.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been operating under the assumption that he was involved in that Dam Slam.” He was rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over the inside of his left wrist, where the Mark of the Summoning Dark had been. When Wee Sam was 8 it had changed, to a symbol generally called the Guarding Dark by anyone who cared to reference it. His father never talked about either Mark, but Wee Sam didn’t blame him. The Marks were indicative of 7 year period which did a number on his view of magic, and his identity.

Speaking of.

“I haven’t told Susan yet, but the monks kicked me out.” He tapped his toe against the grass, bringing it down as softly as he could so it wouldn’t damage the grass. Leggy would be so mad if he damaged his precious ‘terf’.

“Do you want to be a Monk?” His father asked quietly.

“No, I want to be a Watchman.” He whispered. Today was his 30th birthday, though technically he was a month older than that. He felt so much older than that. “But you’re apparently so terrified of me getting myself hurt that you’ve been doing Every Damned Thing you can think of to get between me and that and so I went ahead and tried to join almost any guild in the city and quite a few refused me and I’ve been kicked out of Each. And. Every. One. which would take me and now the only thing I can think of is taking Susan up on her offer to put in a good word for me with the Sto Lat Watch unless you’re going to step in and mess that up too and I wish you would knock it the hells off because as much as I love mum and her dragons I cannot spend the rest of my life working at the damn dragon sanctuary so--”

“Corporal.” His father’s voice was conversational, and somebody who had spent less time listening for the Commander’s voice probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I’m not finished! Will you--” Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “Is that why you made me a Corporal? You couldn’t have recognized me. I hadn’t been born yet!”

“I recognized potential. And I was right, though you didn’t have as much control as I originally thought. Was all that sparring really necessary?”

“You’ve been standing between me and what I’ve been made to do!”

“And how would 50 year old me have known that?”

“It was easier to fight… him… than you.” Wee Sam grumbled, then realized he was starting to dig up the sod with his toe. Feeling bad about the grass, he brought his toe down in the other direction, to flatten it back down.

“Easier? I kicked your ass. I’d probably have a harder time of it now.”

“I never wondered if I should hold back.” Wee Sam admitted.

“Ah.” The 80 year old nodded. “I know that feeling. I’ve often wondered what it would be like if Vetinari and I had a proper fight when we were young.”

“You could sell tickets and solve all the city’s financial problems.” Wee Sam shifted his gaze to his father. “Actually you probably still could--”

“No. Your mother would have a conniption.”

“Oh right. Yeah, she would. Shame.”

“Do I want to know who you think would win?”

“No.”

“Your faith in me is staggering.”

“Well I figure either it would be a draw or he’d kick your--”

“Yes I understood your answer to my question, thank you.” But he was smiling ever so slightly.

And then the city’s clocks started chiming 9 in the evening. His father pushed himself slowly to his feet, and Wee Sam offered his arm. Cheery had offered to get his father an axe to use as a cane, but Commander Vimes would not hear of it. He did touch Wee Sam’s arm briefly, but once he was standing straight he let go, and the pair of them headed towards the exit.

They didn’t bother to try talking until the clocks had stopped, about five minutes after Wee Sam’s watch struck the hour.

“Did those people who tried to kill young Vetinari have any friends who stayed in our time?”

“I believe so.” They were walking slowly, and Wee Sam waited a full block before he added. “You want me to turn all my information over to anyone in particular?”

“I’m not afraid of you getting hurt.” It didn’t seem like a related response, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. “I mean, of course I am, but that’s not why I’ve been saying no.”

“Really?”

“I don't want people treating you like a target for their hate for me. If you could join the way Carrot or Angua or Cheery did, that would be fine. But it’s gotten so big since they joined up.”

“Ah.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t think it would be any better if you joined anywhere else within the Clacks network.”

“Which is pretty much the whole world at this point.”

“And there’s all this scrying now.”

“Which doesn’t need towers.”

His father glared at him, but didn’t tell him to knock it off. “So I suspect your joining a Watch anywhere would ultimately be just as risky.”

“Which is your reasoning for why I shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat.”

“No, my reasoning for why you shouldn’t bother with Sto Lat is that we pay better and have the best medical benefits on the Sto Plains.”

Wee Sam stopped abruptly. “What.”

“You survived the Watch I started out in. As far as I’m concerned, you can handle today’s watch.” The old man stopped and looked back at him. “You’re going to be the oldest cadet though. Because I’m not going to let you jump straight to Corporal. We’re not at war.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s fine.”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”

“Right.” Wee Sam managed to keep himself from skipping, so the pent up energy became a jog to his father’s side. They walked in silence, Wee Sam’s mind racing as he wondered if there was some way for him to accidentally mess this up.

“You should give your mother two week’s notice though. It’s only fair.”

“You didn’t run this by her first?” Wee Sam turned to him, shocked.

“Oh we’ve been talking about this for years.” The unspoken word ‘decades’ hung in the air between them. “Her, Vetinari, Carrot, Angua, Cheery--”

“Cheery?”

“She and Igor think you should be in forensics. I mean, it’s your choice of course-- after you pass the tests.”

“Forensics would be great.” He agreed, and thought about how fun it could be to put his Medical and Alchemical and Assassin training to something useful for once. Which reminded him “You know, there is a smouldering cigar in the center of The Garden of Inner City Tranquility at the Monastery.”

“Yeah, it hit me after you left. I had called you ‘sunshine’ during our fight, and Vetinari basically asked how you were handling turning 30, and seeing him standing there with the lilac pinned to his shirt it hit me.” He paused for a moment. “He wore it in the original timeline too, you know. I wish I had asked, but we didn’t get along as well then.”

Wee Sam felt his mouth tug into a half-smile. For his father and the patrician, ‘getting along as well’ involved an increased number of arguments. Also, he remembered ‘Keel’ using that ironic term of endearment during their spar. “You realized I was Ned Coats.”

“So I… walked as fast as I could… to the Monastery and… knocked on the damned door… And threatened to make one hell of a scene if Sweeper didn’t let me in.”

“So of course he did.”

“Of course.”

“And he took you to the garden. And… you told him what you worked out?”

“Actually I just told him that if anything happened to you I was holding him personally responsible. I knew Ned Coats died. I just didn’t know if he died the way John Keel died. I hadn’t stayed long enough to find out.”

“And what did he say?”

“He asked if my holding him responsible was more or less lethal than Susan Sto Helit holding him responsible.”

Wee Sam laughed. “Sweeper hasn’t met mum.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” His father chuckled quietly. “Anyway, Susan will be at dinner so you can tell her all about how the monks kicked you out with an audience. Your mother will find it interesting, I’m sure.”

“Does mum know about you going back...”

“Oh yes. Vetinari can’t keep a secret from her.” And neither could her husband.

“Will there be anybody at the dinner who doesn’t know?”

“Hm, no. I don’t think so. You were the only one who wasn’t in a position to make conversation then, and while Susan wasn’t involved in my adventure as far as I can tell…”

“But with Susan who knows. In any case, I think I’ll wait until we can get some privacy.”

“Suit yourself, but be warned. Everyone knows I told you I was ok with you joining the Watch. They’ll make a big deal about it. You know how they are.”

Wee Sam looked up at the big, brightly-lit, house as they waited for his dad to fully get his breath back. “I’ll try to be strong.”

Commander Sam Vimes snorted. Wee Sam opened the door, held it while his father entered the house, and followed right behind him.

#the glorious 25th of may #night watch #discworld #sam vimes #gnu terry pratchett #fanfiction #john keel #terry pratchett #writing

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura.

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items.

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question.

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide.

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly.

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative.

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city.

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world.

Now?

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers.

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies.

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.”

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.”

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines.

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you?

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger.

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence?

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail.

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite.

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him.

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura.

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time.

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you.

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible.

He’s been changing a lot lately.

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection.

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice.

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her.

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something.

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off.

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner.

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start.

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is.

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him?

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command?

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident.

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed.

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this.

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you.

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice.

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).”

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers.

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).”

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling...

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms.

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling.

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing.

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?”

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on.

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement.

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right?

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things.

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and...

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his.

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open.

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again.

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost.

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this.

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care.

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip.

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for.

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way.

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @evesmores

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

I Promise (IV)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> Some people have the gifted ability of music; others of mathematics; some perhaps as persuasive argumentators. You have a “gift”, if one would like to call it that. It is the ability to know when somebody is telling a lie.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> hoseok x reader; ?? x reader

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> mafia!au

𝔴/𝔠 >> 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> smoking; murder

𝔞/𝔫 >> sorry friends this is a slow chapter. tbh, this is a fic i wrote millions of years ago. i’ve been slightly editing it so if you’ve read my other fics you can tell how different the writing style is. nevertheless, i hope you enjoy it!

previous part || next part

The six of them paced around the room outside the one Seokjin was currently sitting in. He had been on the phone with The Boss for an incredibly long time. They were all nervous about what was being said inside but none of them wanted to eavesdrop. You were the most nervous of them all. Your mind went back to the conversation after dinner. “Taehyung and Jungkook. The two of you are going to get close to Hong Jung Yee. The Boss made recommendations for the two of you so he’ll likely take you in. Yoongi, I need you to hack into their network and create some mild virus…” Your mind wandered even though Seokjin was still speaking. All these unfamiliar terms and names were leaving Seokjin’s mouth but it didn’t mean anything to you. All you wanted was to be back home, where life had been simpler. Or at least as simple as it could be with BTS in your life. You wondered what life would be like without this gift of yours. Would you be working as Senior Manager now at the company? Maybe you would have met a cute boy whom you could fall in love with, someone whom you wouldn’t be able to detect every broken promise he would make and naively trust that you were his only one. Man, that train of thought took quite a detour. Your ears perked up when you heard your name being called. “That just leaves you, Y/N. Your role is relatively easy. We will have reserved a room at a hotel a couple of buildings down in which Yoongi will meet you after he completes his part of the mission. Your job is just to listen in on our conversation with the devices he has set up and see if this guy tells a single lie. That should be enough to gather any type of evidence against him before the Boss instructs us of whether or not he needs to be eliminated.” You nodded slowly after Seokjin finished explaining. Everything was perfect. If all things went according to plan, you could be home in maybe a week or two. “Y/N,” Seokjin called your name, “Are you clear with that? I’ve run down the plan a couple of times with the boys so they should know it like the back of their hand, but I want to be sure you’re comfortable with it as well.” There was only one problem. You didn’t know if you could tell a lie if you weren’t directly in the room. You had never felt any buzzing when you talked with people on a phone or through video call. There was the one time you had received a call from Seohyun about her getting into nursing school but that had actually turned out to be real. “Yeah. Sure,” you mumbled. How would you tell them that their plan could go wrong? Should you even tell them? Of course you should. It wasn’t only your life at stake here, all of them were. “Um, excuse me?” All the members turned to look at you. Hoseok laughed. In his fingers, he twirled around an unlit cigarette even though there was already one in his mouth. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard something as pleasant as that come out of your mouth,” he said. You ignored him. “The plan sounds good and I really don’t want to be a party pooper but I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like that through a phone.” “What do you mean?” Seokjin asked. “The feeling usually comes when I’m talking to the person face to face or if I’m in the general vicinity where I hear their voice. What I’m trying to say is: I don’t think this is going to work.” There you had said it. Consequences… come at you. “Oh.” That was Seokjin’s simple response, certainly not what you had been expecting. He stared you right in the eyes. “This isn’t… a joke right?” “Hyung, she doesn’t a single funny bone in her body,” Hoseok smirked. His pun fell flat. “I need to talk to The Boss.” That was the last thing he said to any of them and that led to the situation they were all in right now: camped outside Seokjin’s room and hoping for some sort of good news. There was a rattle of the doorknob and an exhausted looking Seokjin stepped out. “So….?” Yoongi asks. You glance at him quickly and realize that the constant tapping you’d been hearing was from Yoongi drumming his fingers on the table. Seokjin walks to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water for himself and takes a long drink. Once he’s done, he turns to you all and says, “The Boss just wants the job to be done. He doesn’t care in what way.” Taehyung spoke up, “So why were you in there for such a long time?” “Well, I needed to know a little more about Hong Jung Yee. Since we cannot just waltz in there, information was needed on his whereabouts and acquaintances. I’ve got half a plan thought out which I’ll review with you all tomorrow after all I’ve worked out the final kinks. You should all go to bed now. We’ve got long days ahead of us.”

...

You were back in the white room. While your bed was extremely soft and the light night breeze was soothing to you, you could not sleep. You wondered if you could blame it on the jet lag but you felt that it didn’t explain it all. When you first found out about your ability, you tried it out on yourself. The convenience of finding out what you were truly thinking and how you truly saw yourself was something you had always wondered about. However, even when you stood in front of the mirror and told a lie purposely, there was no buzzing. You could discover all the lies other people told you, but the one person you could not read was yourself. You tossed again and kicked off your blankets. You swung your legs off the bed and decided that a cup of hot chocolate might put you to sleep. It was something your mother did for you often when you were younger – perhaps the single good memory of your younger days. The house was quiet as all the members slept with their doors closed. After you finished making yourself the drink, you found herself less sleepy than before. It was a large place they were all staying at so you decided to also take a walk until you finished the drink. Physical activity tended to make the human body tired as well. A lot of things were floating in your mind as you walked. You had accepted the fact that you would not be able to return home until this whole fiasco was over. You were worried about how it would turn out however. BTS had taken on many jobs in the past but never anything that brought them overseas. You had also never heard them plan out anything elaborate as this. Their plans usually consisted of one or two of the members stalking down their target and intimidating them with weapons. You would pop up and make sure that you heard what they were saying, whether that be playing as innocent hostage or just hiding in the general vicinity of where they brought the target. All their targets had ever been members of smaller gangs that were fighting with each other or members of a gang that wanted to take more of the loot for themselves. Never had you seen them target the head of a gang, let alone the partner of The Boss in another country. There were so many things that could go wrong. You saw that the patio door had been left open and thought some fresh air would help you clear your mind. When you stepped out, you realized that the patio was already occupied. “Hi,” you said. The figure greeted you with two fingers, the lit cigarette creating a line of smoke in the clear night air. “You really should cut back on the smoking.” “I’ve tried. But I’m pretty sure I’m half smoke and half alcohol by now,” Hoseok felt you walk up to the balcony beside him. The house was situated on a slight hill and in the distance they could see The City That Never Sleeps live out to its name. “That doesn’t even make any sense,” you commented, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. The sweet drink stung your throat on the way down but it was comforting. “Well what brings you out on this fabulous night? Ready to take my offer when we first met?” he asked, alluding to their first encounter. “Funny,” you said sarcastically, “I couldn’t sleep.” Hoseok took a drag of his cigarette. “Guess that makes two of us.” The two of you stood in the silence for a while, getting comfort from each other’s presence. “You know, shit’s about to go down,” he stated, “The Boss only accepts perfectly completed missions. Seokjin-hyung won’t show it but he’s worried. There are so many unpredictable factors.” He knew it probably wasn’t something you wanted to hear in your sleepless state, but it was what needed to be said. You turned to face him. There was a serious look on your face when you asked, “Who is The Boss and what’s the organization? You all seem nervous whenever it’s brought up.” The cigarette was a stub between his fingers and you guessed that he had been out here for a while. He put it out, pondered for a minute and then tapped out a new cigarette. He stared at it. “Our life’s like this. We all are born white and untainted, ready to be anything we want it to be. Believing that we could be anything we want it to be,” he started, “This cigarette doesn’t have to be used. It could be left in a box, pretty as a toxic flower. It could be left on a table, as a daring symbol from a rebelling teenager. However, shit happens. And a fire is lit. Nobody starts off in life wanting to be in this business.” There was a quick flick of hesitance in his eyes before he blinked it away to continue,“All little boys dream of becoming astronauts, race car drivers, doctors, musicians… you name it. It’s just that we aren’t all as fortunate to actually attain any of our dreams. Take the boys and I. We all had aspirations. Hell, Jungkook was even enrolled in a decent college. But somehow, we each stumbled into the organization under The Boss in our own way. The Boss is very particular on the quality of work his organization puts out. He makes all probable members go through a type of initiation, if you will. Tasks vary but always end up in two possibilities: your entrance into the organization or death. Getting in isn’t as hard as staying in. God forbid you failed one or made any mistake in a job that could be traced back to the organization. Failures were never given a second opportunity to prove themselves again. It’s one of the ways he’s managed to elude the authorities all this time. He’s extremely cautious and methodical. That’s why nothing can go wrong with this job. I won’t let any of the members get hurt. If there’s going to be a fight, then I’ll go down fighting before any of them needs to suffer.” He stopped staring at the cigarette and stuck it back into his pocket. He let out a sigh. You studied the man in front of you. You knew that the lives they all held were not easy ones. You knew of the danger they were constantly putting themselves in but you had not known how dark it really was. The whole time he was talking, a steely look had taken over his eyes. He always seemed nonchalant in everything he did but the way he had said the last few sentences... Albeit your constant headache around him, you knew he wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t let any of the members get hurt. “This might be the most normal conversation we’ve ever had,” Hoseok grinned. “I don’t know if that constitutes as normal.” “Normal enough for us. Does this mean you’ll rethink about getting in bed with me?” You scowled. And you had started thinking well of him. He laughed at your expression and stomped a final time on his previous cigarette to make sure it was out. “Well I’ll be in my room if you do change your mind.” He turned to leave. “I won’t be,” you said after him. There was still one impeding question. “Hey.” He stopped and looked back at you. “You mentioned that everybody needed to complete an initiation task. What was yours?” He smirked and waved two fingers in the air to tell you goodnight. You thought he would not answer your question but he proved you wrong. “I killed my old man.”

...

With the rise of the sun came the beginning of a new day. By the time you woke up, you could hear the sizzling of eggs and smell breakfast being made in the kitchen. You yawned and rolled onto your stomach. You felt slightly more refreshed than last night but your eyes were still heavy. Forcing yourself out of the bed, you trudged your way into the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror and duly noted that your hair was getting long and your bangs were well past your chin. You turned your face in the mirror to and from and saw that the stress of the past few days was getting to your skin. A small pimple was beginning to push its way through your skin at the bottom of your jaw. You grabbed the only cosmetic item you had with you, and lightly tapped the concealer in place. Your dark circles were still extremely prominent even after you tried to hide them. You sighed and rubbed your bangs back to the front to cover half your face. Once you were finished in the bathroom, you walked into the room next door. After exploring your giant room, you deemed the second door in the room as a walk in closet. It was currently empty and that was where you had decided to carry out your morning workout. It wasn’t like you had any clothes to fill it with anyways. While your job in Seoul had not required you to be athletic or fit in any way, you had always believed that having a healthy body was of utmost importance. On their brief trip to the mall before dinner, you had grabbed a set of dumbbells and a small speed bag to hang up. More than anything, you kept in shape in case you needed to protect yourself from harm. Society had already deemed women as fragile prey and you would not let yourself fall into that category. You placed your hands beneath your shoulders and let herself down to the floor as your mind flashed to the conversation you had with Hoseok last night. His last words sent a hollow chill down your spine. There had always been the probability that BTS had shed blood but you never liked to think about it. You could associate yourself with people who lied or cheated or committed any other type of small illegal activities but you did not want to be around any type of killer. You tried to push the thought of whether any of the members had had to kill out of your mind but it lingered regardless. A slight knock to the door of your room caused you to pause on your fifth set of push ups. With a slight sheen of sweat building on your forehead, you opened the door and found Jungkook standing outside. “I’ve brought you breakfast,” he shyly offered you a tray. There was an array of breakfast foods no doubt created by the talented Seokjin. You ruffled the younger boy’s hair and told him that you’d meet the rest of them outside for breakfast.

...

Hoseok yawned for the tenth time that morning. After talking with you, he had returned to his room fully expecting the embrace of slumber to take him. Sadly, it never came. Every time he thought he’d be drifting off to sleep, he would find himself transported to a red room and his mother on the bed. He’d jolt up sweating with a desperate need to pinch himself to confirm he had stopped dreaming. There was a reason he never spoke of that night with anybody. He had never even told his members – they had never discussed what their initiation tasks were. Yet somehow, just a simple prompt from you had gotten him to tell you his best kept secret. He convinced himself that it had been fatigue that caused him to speak but his rational side told him that was impossible as he had spent the rest of the night sleepless. There was a lull in the conversation around the table as you walked up. “Good morning,” you said to the table. Your eyes met Hoseok’s and held his gaze for a few seconds before you sat down. “Morning,” Taehyung greeted back. “Did you have a good sleep?” Yoongi asked, he had finished breakfast early and sat drinking coffee instead. “Took a while for me to get to bed,” you said and accepted the bowl of soup from Seokjin. It smelled delicious and your taste buds confirmed your thoughts. Jimin laughed lightly and gestured towards Hoseok. “You look better than him at least.” You looked up at met Hoseok’s eyes again. Indeed, you saw that his dark circles were worse than yours and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Although not lit, Hoseok stuck a cigarette into his mouth and spoke through it, “It was too stuffy here last night. I couldn’t breathe.” “Sure it isn’t because of how much you smoke, hyung?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Hoseok pursed his lips and set the cigarette down on the table. Jungkook saw it there and started reaching for it. Taehyung slapped his hand. “Hoseok already got Yoongi hooked on that. We don’t need any more smoke around us.” Yoongi shrugged and sipped his coffee quietly. “So, I did a lot of thinking last night,” Seokjin said once everybody had finished their meal. “I believe I’ve got a plan for us but before we do that, we need to do some surveillance.” “Alright,” Yoongi sat a little straighter and cracked his knuckles, “Where do you want me to hack into this time?” Seokjin shook his head. “You’re not going to be hacking into anything. We’re going into a club.” “A club?” the group echoed. “It’s not your normal club,” he said, “It’s a club where only the wealthiest socialites are allowed in. A source told me that Hong Jung Yee appears there every Tuesday and Thursday. That being known, he will be there tonight and that’s where we will be making first contact.” Jimin spoke up from his seat. “Why do we need to hit that certain club tonight? Could we not follow our initial plan of infiltration?” Seokjin turned to look at him and shook his head. “It’s not as simple. The club on the surface serves as a cover for what it truly is: an underground market.” You furrowed your brows. “An underground market?” This time, it was Hoseok that answered your question. “A place where things are sold. Anything that can have a price put on it you’ll probably find there. Weapons, drugs, information, people.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I know what it is. I’m just wondering why we need to get into that.” “The source told me that Hong Jung Yee runs a little side business there. Tonight, we will scout out the club and see just what he is selling. When the time is right, we will make contact with the target and act as a potential buyer. From there, we should be able to carry on the plan like before,” Seokjin told them. “Wait. I don’t get it. You said that the people who attend this place are wealthy socialites. First of all, none of us are wealthy socialites. Second, it doesn’t really solve the fact of how I need to be there in the room to hear whether or not Hong Jung Yee tells any lies,” you said to him. From the inside of his pocket he took out two gold plated cards. There were the words “Ecstasia” embossed into the front and several numbers lining the bottom. Adjacent to the numbers was a name that appeared on both cards. Seokjin slid one card towards you and the other towards Hoseok. “I’ll answer both of your questions at once. First, it’ll only be the two of you going in. In our short time I was only able to attain two membership cards. I know you two don’t have the…closest of relationships but like you said, we need you in there. Second, Hoseok usually plays the role of infiltration anyways so it only natural he goes with you. Bottom line: the both of you will be the ones to make contact with the target and you will be doing it as Mr. and Mrs. Chen.” At first, the names did not register in her mind but the moment Hoseok reached over to take your hand, it did and caused you to groan and slump into your seat. Hoseok let out a mischievous chuckle. “Hello, honey.”

...

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @scuzmunkie

50 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 4 years

Text

remember me // colby brock

A/N: this is not a request, but this is something i have been thinking about for a long time, probs since i started writing. i only finally wrote this out bc i’ve seen a lot of edit on insta that are like ‘what if your fave didn’t exist?’ and i figured this was sign for me to finally write it. if you guys want me to make a sequel to this, lmk. hope you enjoy.

prompt: everyone has forgotten colby, except her. but why?

trigger warning: angst, kinda sad, ppl forgetting colby

word count: 3567

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day started out like any other day for Colby. Nothing felt out of place as he woke up and laid in bed for a couple minutes. He knew today was going to be one of the less crazier days for him and Sam. No meetings of any kind, and no filming either. He had gotten everything done earlier this week and he was excited to have a bit of a day off. The only thing he had planned for today was to go workout with Sam early. He glanced at his phone. 9:34 A.M. Perfect time for him and Sam to go down to the apartment's gym and get some work done.

Colby stretched as he stood up, stumbling over to his closet and changing into what he usually worked out in, a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. He trudged into his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly, opting to take a shower after he got home from the gym. He slipped his sneakers on as he walked into his kitchen and got a water bottle from his fridge. Taking a big gulp, he grabbed his keys and headed straight down the hallway to Sam's apartment.

He knocked three times, calling out to Sam as he waited for the blonde-haired boy to open the door. Finally, Sam did, rubbing his eyes and staring at Colby confused.

"Hey dude, did you oversleep?" Colby smirked, "That would be a first."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Colby, his voice still tired. "Um, I'm sorry?"

“Don't you remember? We planned to work out this morning. We talked about it last night.” Colby replied, twirling his keys in his fingers.

“What are you talking about?” Sam scrunched up his face.

“Last night after we filmed your video, we said we should go workout this morning…” Colby chuckled lightly, “Are you okay, brother?”

“I'm sorry, but... do you have the wrong apartment?” Sam asked nicely.

Colby exhaled. “What?”

“You must be looking for someone else, dude. I have no idea who you are.” Sam mumbled to himself, “Or how you know my name…”

“Okay, ha-ha. Very funny. Come on, Sam. Let's go.” Colby stated, taking a step back to leave.

Sam insisted, his voice getting louder. “No seriously, I have no idea who you are.”

“Babe, who is that?” A voice called from inside the apartment.

Colby looked over Sam, seeing Kat walk around the corner in her pjs. Colby glanced above Kat and noticed something off but ignored it.

“Hey Kat, did Sam hit his head last night?” Colby joked.

Sam turned to Kat. “Do you know him?”

Kat took a step back, glancing at Colby quickly. “No, I have no idea who he is. Do you?”

“No, I don't.” Sam shook his head.

“What are you guys on about? Of course, you know me.” Colby hissed.

“Seriously, I have no idea who you are or how you know me. But you gotta leave.” Sam ordered.

“What?” Colby raised an eyebrow, his voice softening, “Is this some type of prank?”

“Leave now, or I'm gonna call security on you.” Sam grunted.

Colby started. “Dude what are you talking-”

Sam slammed the door in Colby's face, locking it loudly. Colby scoffed, staring at the door for a second.

If this is a prank, I'm so gonna get him back for this.

Colby rolled his eyes and went down to the gym. He couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. Why was Sam pranking him if they already filmed last night? Was he trying to film for next week now too? Was this for someone else's video?

I mean, this has to be a prank... right?

Colby shook his head, ignoring the strange thought. Of course, this was a prank. It was probably for Jake's video. Maybe even Kat's. Or Kevin's. Someone was doing it to him. He couldn't remember the last time he had pranked somebody. But whoever he did, they were probably trying to get him back now for it. And they were doing a pretty good job.

Colby jumped onto the treadmill, keeping the pace slow at first as he searched through Spotify to find his playlist. Where was his playlist? As cheesy as it was to listen to the playlist he made for fans, it was filled with his favorite songs, so he would actually listen to it a lot. But now... he couldn't find it.

Where the fuck is it?

He searched, even going to his profile, but it wasn't there. Gone, like it never existed.

Maybe Spotify is acting up. Let me just go to Youtube.

Colby clicked on the app, searching up a song he wanted to hear. Then he paused for a moment, deleting the text he had written and typing in 'sam and colby'.

No results found.

“What?” Colby murmured, twisting up his face.

He then typed in 'colby brock'.

No results found.

Colby's heart sped up in his chest, his breathing quickening. Did his channel get deleted? Why were there no results for his channel, or 'Sam and Colby' for that matter? He finally typed in 'sam golbach', and Sam's channel appeared.

Colby clicked on it, glancing around at the different layout. This wasn't the layout Sam had had before. The only time they change it is when they are starting a new chapter, and they always do it together. Maybe he changed it last minute?

He clicked on Sam's videos. Scrolling through the list of them, he noticed something weird.

Sam always included Colby in the thumbnail. But now... he was nowhere. Now someone different was in the thumbnail, like Jake, Kevin, or even Corey. But... Colby was nowhere.

What the fuck was going on?

Colby clicked on a video he knew he was in, 'This Is How He LOST The Game’. He watched through the first ad, waiting impatiently. Finally, when the video loaded, his eyes widened at what he saw.

He wasn't in the video.

Sam had started the video off like normal, showing all the guys sitting on the couch as he explained the name of the game. But Colby, who knew for a fact he was in this video, was no longer there. His spot empty.

It was one thing to pretend not to know him, it was one thing to remove him from the thumbnails. But to remove him from videos all together...

“It's impossible.” He uttered under his breath.

Colby rushed off the treadmill, no longer in the mood to workout. He ran up to his apartment, feeling his heart bang against his ribcage.

Maybe this is all a weird ass dream? Or an extremely elaborate prank?

Colby went into his closet, deciding he wanted to change out of his clothes into something more comfortable. He gazed over at the corner of his closet, where he kept all of his merch, along with the XPLR ones too.

It was empty.

“What the fuck?” Colby grabbed at the empty hangers, spinning around his closet. He threw open drawers to try and find his merch, but he couldn't find it.

Colby swiped open his phone, sliding to his pictures. He knew him and Sam had a recent photoshoot in the new XPLR merch, so as long as those photos were there, he knew everything's okay.

As he opened his photo album, a certain dread trickled through his body.

Colby never deleted anything off his phone. He wanted to keep as many photos as possible. Plus it was always good to have extra photos in case he didn't have anything to post on his Instagram. But now, every photo he had was different than it once was. He had many photos of him and Sam from their years of friendship. But now every photo that had him and Sam in it... was gone. It was no longer Sam and Colby. It was just... Colby.

I'm not doing this right now. This can't be real.

Colby shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him as he laid back down on his bed. He took some deep breaths, trying to relax. This must just be the most realistic dream he's ever had, and he just needs to go back to sleep and wake up to everything normal again.

Normal... Sam's neon sign was gone.

Colby groaned to himself, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in bed. No, this is not the time to think. I just need to sleep.

As Colby felt himself relax into sleep, his dreams that followed were confusing and dark. Nothing made sense, but all he knew was that he was in a panic.

Colby jolted awake suddenly. He could tell by the way the sun was peeking through his windows that it was later. He opened his phone. 1:34 P.M.

He sighed deeply. Colby was used to waking up on his days off this late. Everything already felt better.

Did I dream all of that? Or was that prank real?

As he slid out of bed to the bathroom, he decided to check twitter. If that was all real, maybe Sam had mentioned the prank to the fans.

Colby opened twitter and nothing seemed out of the usual. He looked at Sam's account, and noticed it was not following him anymore.

He's being extremely thorough, isn't he?

As he went to switch over to the Sam and Colby account, he noticed the icon wasn't there. His fingers twitched as he typed 'sam and colby' into the search bar. Everything but that account showed up. 'Sam and Colby' twitter didn't exist.

A nauseous feeling rolled through Colby's body. Colby went to his profile, looking through the people he followed, not even noticing the significant lack of followers he had. He knew he followed a couple fans, maybe they knew what was up. As he scrolled through, he noticed the usernames were different.

He knew a bunch of fans off-hand. A lot of fan accounts always stuck out to him; and it was easy to remember the username, especially if it was named after him.

But nobody's username was.

He saw a lot of 'Golbach', but no 'Brock' or even 'Golbrock', which he always thought was cute. Not a single username was related to him anymore.

Alright, that's enough.

He angrily clicked on his contacts, needing to call Sam and tell him to call off this prank. It was no longer funny and honestly, he didn't even want to be a part of it anymore. Most pranks he was fine with, but this one was going too far for him.

Colby gasped as he stared at his contacts, dropping his phone like it electrocuted him.

All his friends were missing from his contacts. The only people in his phone were his family, and that was it.

Colby began to hyperventilate, unable to stop the panic that surged through his body. He bore at himself in the mirror, staring at his stress-ridden face. He gripped the counter of his sink, trying to calm himself down.

If he couldn't turn to Sam, who could he turn to?

He picked his phone back up, leaning against his counter as he called his mom. He just needed to know that someone remembered him.

“Hello?” His mother’s voice sang through the phone.

Colby breathed, slightly relaxing against the counter. “Hey Mom, how are you?”

“Hi Cole-baby. I'm doing okay. How are you?” She asked sweetly.

Colby pouted. “Um, I'm feeling a bit... off, to say the least.”

“Oh no, what's wrong?” She responded.

“I know this is gonna sound like a weird question, but do you remember my friend Sam?” Colby questioned, tapping his hand against the counter.

She hummed, guessing. “Sam? Sam... Johnson?”

“What? No. I never knew a Sam Johnson.” Colby rolled his eyes, frustrated, “I mean Sam Golbach. Sam Golbach. Do you remember him?”

“No... should I?” She admitted.

His heart dropped at her words. “Yeah, you should. He's my best friend. We were friends all through high school. We started a literal career together, he's basically your third son at this point.”

“Woah, honey. What are you talking about?” She puzzled.

“You don't remember Sam? He's the whole reason I moved out here, Mom.” He urged, needing his mother to remember.

She paused, then spoke. “Colby, you moved out to LA alone. Last month.”

“What?” He choked.

“You worked all through high school and college and saved up money and just recently moved out there.” She informed.

His eyes widened. “Mom, I've lived in LA for almost five years now.”

Also... college?

“Maybe it feels like five years, but honey, you only moved out a month ago at max.” His mom’s voice softened, lowering slightly. “Are you okay?”

“No momma, apparently not.” He sighed, “Who was I friends with in high school if I wasn’t friends with Sam?”

“Honey, you didn’t have any… or none that you ever brought home.” She mentioned.

Colby queried. “And college?”

“You didn’t really talk about anyone. You were very focused on your schoolwork.” She explained.

That literally doesn’t sound like me at all. I couldn’t even pass math without Sam.

Colby glanced down at his tattoos for a second, pursing his lips. “Another quick question, I was allowed to live in our house with dyed hair, tattoos, and pierced ears?”

She gasped. “Wait what? You got a tattoo?!”

“Mom, I have like five.” Colby deadpanned.

“When did you find the time to get them?!” She hushed, “Cole, you know how I feel about tattoos.”

Colby grew tired. “So, you've never heard of a Sam Golbach before?”

“No, absolutely not. But don't try to change the subject on me, Cole Robert.” She scolded.

He huffed. “I'll talk to you later, momma.”

She sputtered. “What? Don't you-”

Colby clicked ‘End Call’, lowering his head to the counter, taking in a deep breath and holding it.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” He demanded out loud.

Colby jumped up, going to his closet and slipping on some clothes quickly. The only thing he knew for certain is that something wasn't right, and he needed to get out of his apartment and go somewhere else. Anywhere else.

He grabbed his keys and rushed down to the parking lot, getting into his car quickly and driving off.

He drove for a while, finally pulling into another parking lot and turning off his car. He needed to get something to eat, and then maybe he could figure things out. He glanced around and noticed the parking lot he was in was for a diner named Meyer's. He locked his car as he left, swinging the diner's door open hastily. The diner wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. A nice lull of conversations droned on as he sat down at the furthest booth, cracking his knuckles nervously.

He picked up the menu that was already at the table, staring at the front of it. He didn't even realize a waitress had walked up next to him.

"...Are you okay?" The soft voice said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Colby stared up at the waitress, noticing her eyes first. They were captivating and beautiful, much like herself. Her hair shined brightly in the sun that basked through the window. Her smile was wonderful to see after a day of unpleasant looks.

He stuttered. “What? Uh-I. Yeah, no, I'm fine.”

She giggled. “Okay. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Um, a water. No, a soda. Please.” Colby muttered.

“Alright. Coming right up.” She nodded.

Colby stared at the menu again, gazing over the pictures of sandwiches and wraps. He wasn't really hungry, but he felt like he should just eat something, even if it was just to pass the time.

The waitress came back over with his soda, placing it lightly down in front of him. “Are you ready to order?”

“No, not yet.” Colby answered, not looking up from the menu.

“Okay, I'll be right back.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Are you okay? I know I already asked you that but... you look really upset.”

Colby’s shoulders slumped as he gazed up at her. “I-I... don't even know how to explain it.”

“Why? Is it complicated?” She guessed.

“You could say that,” Colby glared down at the menu. “It just doesn't make any sense. It sounds fake, to be honest.”

“Well, you can tell me. I won't judge.” She smiled.

I might as well tell somebody...

“Everyone's... forgotten about me?” Even Colby was confused at his words.

“What do you mean? Like they're ignoring you?” She questioned, her hand resting on her hip.

“No. Like they literally forgot I exist. Or, I somehow don't exist in their lives anymore, when yesterday I did.” He confessed.

She shrugged. “Well, maybe they're trying to ignore you instead of talking things out.”

“No, I don't think you understand. I don't exist to them. They don't know me. Like, at all,” Colby corrected. “My best friend, my brother, the fucking dude I got arrested with, doesn't know who I am.��

“Wait, you've been arrested?” She raised an eyebrow.

“It was just breaking and entering. And having fake IDs,” He commented. “But that's not the point, the point is no one remembers me, but I remember them.”

The waitress stood there silently, awkwardly.

“I don't know what to say.” She whispered.

He gulped. “I don't know either. But if you have a solution, I'd gladly hear it.”

“Maybe it's a prank?” She speculated.

“I thought about that too. But if it is, this is extremely elaborate. And borderline impossible.” Colby disclosed.

She argued nonchalantly. “People do crazy things for social media.”

“Yeah, but even my friends wouldn't take it this far for just a dumb video.” He complained.

“Are your friends famous?” She inquired.

“I wouldn't say that. My best friend is Sam Golbach.” Colby revealed.

“Sam Golbach? Why have I heard that name before?” She asked quietly.

“He's got a lot of followers. He’s a Youtuber.” He pointed out.

“Wait, you're Sam's best friend?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side.

She gasped. “Oh! You're Colby Brock!”

“I'm what?” He stammered.

“You're Colby, right?” She doubted for a second, “Or did I get that wrong?”

Colby jumped up out of his seat. “Oh my God, you know who I am! Wait, how do you know?”

“My one friend is a huge fan of you and Sam. She showed me you guys like a month ago.” She paused for a second, smirking. “She's actually really into you... Maybe I should call her.”

“Please do. I need to know if she knows who I am.” Colby pleaded, sitting back down.

The waitress followed him, sitting across from Colby. “Of course she does, she literally has you set as her wallpaper.”

She pulled out her phone, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her. She clicked on a contact, putting the phone on the table and clicking ‘Speaker’.

“Hello?” A voice broke in through the phone.

She grinned, staring up at Colby. “Hey Sara, you need to come down to the diner real quick.”

“What why?” Sara questioned.

“Colby Brock is here.” She announced.

Sara remarked. “...Who?”

“Colby Brock, the guy you're in love with.” She repeated.

“I have no idea who you're talking about. I've never heard that name before.” Sara denied.

“He's Sam Golbach's friend.” The waitress described.

Sara exclaimed. “Oh my God, is Sam there?! Because I’ll-”

She interjected. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh... then I don't want to come.” Sara recalled, “I've never heard Sam talk about a guy named Colby before.”

Colby swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes falling off of the waitress’.

She fretted. “Okay then. I'll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye.” Sara ended, hanging up the phone.

After a moment of silence, the waitress stated, “I'm sorry about that.”

“What's there to be sorry about?” Colby quavered.

The waitress scoffed suddenly. “Is this some kinda joke?”

“What?” He queried.

“Are you pulling a prank on me? Was Sara in on it? Because I’ll kill her if she met you and didn’t tell me.” She jeered jokingly.

Colby shook his head, deadpanning. “I haven’t met Sara, and I’m not pranking you.”

“How can I know if you’re lying or not?” She questioned, squinting her eyes.

“Google my name. Search me on any social media,” Colby suggested. “I don’t exist.”

“Okay…” She agreed.

The waitress quickly typed in his name into Google, coming up with no images that looked like him. None of his social media links came up either.

She gazed up at him slowly. “This is really weird.”

“You’re telling me.” Colby uttered, “No one remembers me.”

She blurted. “But I do.”

“Yeah… why is that?” He inquired.

“I-I don’t know.” She sputtered, confused. Then she jolted up from her seat instantly. “I-um, gotta go help out my other tables. Do you need me to give you some time to look over the menu?”

“Yes…” He continued, “But one other thing.”

“Sure.” She leaned in, her hands resting on the tabletop.

“Can you help me? Please?” Colby begged, lightly grabbing her hand.

She silently gasped, whispering, “How?”

“I don’t know. But I think you’re the only one that can.” Colby divulged.

The waitress stuttered, but no words fell from her lips.

He exhaled, staring into her eyes. “So, will you?”

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