#Conan voice so did it work.

[fisherrprince]

something doofy because of that drunk rambling post

—

“Have I ever taken what?”

“It’s an opioid sedative sometimes used in surgical procedures and pain relief in recovery. It’s unreliable for general use, seeing as the reaction varies person to person from nothing at all to complete unconsciousness. Judging by your confusion I’m going to assume no.”

“Not that I can remember. Can I ask why?”

“You may. I have something I’d like you to try at your earliest convenience.”

“Something that has to do with sedating me, which sounds cheerful.”

“I thought you’d be more excited about furthering my research into the drug.”

“Wait, the—               s-sorry, I’m with—   no, it’s just Haibara, she asked about school! There’s homework …ahem. I can get over there in ten minutes. How’s that?”

“You’re an incredibly easy person to convince into being a lab rat.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help.”

“Come to the lab at your earliest convenience. And no, you don’t need to bring clothes, this is a peripheral matter that requires you to stay as you are.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so dour. In lieu of more information, I’m afraid experimentation involving the efficacy or strength of the drug is… not… able to progress. Yet. So I’ve been testing a little side project to see if I can’t make the transformation a measure less…”

“Extremely painful?”

“Yes. Seeing as this is the only compound that I can integrate without destabilizing the entire formula, it’s worth trying— was that the doorbell?”

“Yes. Let me in.”

“That was not ten minutes.”

“I have a skateboard. Let me in.”

—

>> From: Shinichi <3

Hello, Miss Mouri. Please do not be alarmed, it is the “creepy doctor friend” he tells you about. I am texting you from Kudo’s phone. I have something that may be of interest to you. 

-audio recording: 00.08.25.02

He is fine. He is on a significant amount of painkillers, but he is not injured. Don’t worry. 

:)

>> You

What?

Are you sure he’s okay? That doesn’t sound okay. 

Hello?

—

-audio recording: 00.08.25.02

  |> play

Transcription

(This is a beta feature in testing for Dandroid 14. Please report any bugs to the support center, here.)

(Shifting noises).

What _____ ____ on.

Leave it on.

Itchy.

It isn’t, I have one too. It’s fine. What did you say about your girlfriend?

What?

Tell me what you just said about Ran again.

I just said… I told you already.

Tell me again.

I said that I like holding her hand, because, she’s… you can, um, tell that she does karate, because she has callouses on the side… over here, this side, of her hand. And her knuckles. And not on the pads, of it, that’s what a gymnast would have because they have to grip the bars and floors. But she has, soft hands. And she has short nails because they might break but she paints them. She’s really strong.

Yeah?

Yeah. Really… she’s really strong… and cool. I saw-- _______ I saw her, kick a metal wall and it brokeand it was metal. You can’t bend! Metal, unless it’s… the… thirty… um. 

Don’t try to remember the stress limit of steel.

Five. Thousand PSI. _______ I know that.

Hm.

Really pretty. It’s really pretty. I wish I could… I forgot that she was so pretty. Did you know, that? But I can’t tell her. I wanna… _______ home. Not in my house, though, my house is… there’s… ___ in my house but she’s a good cook and not like that. That’s… ___ not fair. 

Sorry. 

Yeah. No, just. …Stupid.

What?

(Shifting).

__________ …Where am I?

It’s fine. We’re home.

I don’t…

Look. ________ lab. It’s fine.

Oh. I wish Ran was here. She smells nice.

Does it not smell very nice in here?

No it smells like formaldehyde.

So it does.

She has flower… something. I don’t know what it is ___ you should ask her about it. Or don’t. Actually. That would be weird. I wouldn’t like it. 

Alright. 

… Can I go see her now?

You can’t walk. 

Yes I can. 

Don’t—

end transcription

[masterash]

Man. I've been binging Detective Conan for the last month or so and what's fascinating to me about it is how since it's a 30 year old series during one of the times of the most extensive technological advances within the last 200 years. You can see the way the cases are affected by the advancement of technology as well, it's crazy.

Early episodes had things like floppy discs and voice mail machines be key pieces of evidence, what did it matter if Shinichi showed his face a time or two? That could be smoothed over with just asking those present to not talk about it. Phones were evidence mainly because of who called but not too much else. The biggest clues for the black org were a floppy disc with a diary on it and a code based on dial sounds on a flip phone.

Now? Shinichi shows his face even once and it gets on a photo, it's *all* over because that's how the internet works! Evidence on phones now includes extensive camera history, and being able to see with a zoom on a phone camera. These are all cases that couldn't work early on because these things weren't even around in the early days or wouldn't be as big!

It's such a cool demonstration about how technology affects mystery stories, and how it changes as time goes on! I know some people find the slow pace of the story annoying (I don't blame them) but I find it fascinating just what that does to the narrative being told and how much technology plays into murder mysteries.

This also just a few examples regarding what's commonly discussed as advances, but they have so many other things they refer to in the series as new advances in forensics that have such an impact. I'd love to write an actual essay on this concept, not just with Detective Conan but mystery stories as a whole and this impact.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Comfort Crowd

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean just needs you next to him

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think

author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3

music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…

When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.

Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).

“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”

“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?

“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”

“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”

“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”

“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”

“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”

With that, he hung up. 

Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 

**

After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.

“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”

He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?

“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”

“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 

He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.

“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.

“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”

“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”

You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 

“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 

“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”

“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”

A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”

“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”

“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 

“You’re the best company,” he countered. 

“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”

**

Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.

“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.

“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”

“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”

“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 

Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.

“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”

“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”

He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.

“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 

**

When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.

“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 

“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.

“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 

“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”

“Remember that fight we had?”

“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 

“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”

“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”

“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”

“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”

There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”

“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 

“If this is about what I said—”

“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”

Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”

“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 

“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”

“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”

“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 

“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 

“Yes I can, Dean!”

“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”

“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”

Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.

“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.

“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”

He looked at you cautiously; “What?”

“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.

[verycoolusername1]

Quite This High

Summary: In which Luke inspires a song out of you about his gorgeous blue eyes.

Luke Hughes x Singer!reader - Social Media AU(fc is Olivia Rodrigo)

A/N: this is part two to angel boy if anyone wanted it lmao you don't have to read the first part to understand this one as it's a social media au :D

Also I have no idea what Luke's eye color is but ig in this he has blue eyes and since it's national boyfriends day(and I'm hopelessly single) I decided to post a little something

Yourusername posted on their story!

Notifications

Tatemcrae: you're so evil for this!!!

liked by lhughes_06. Viewed by 4,567,981 others...

Real life

You sat on your couch with your notebook in your lap, on FaceTime with Luke.

"And then Jack slipped and I just could not keep it together." Luke chuckled at the memory.

You admired him through the phone. "You have nice eyes."

Luke looked at you softly, a pink hue slowly appearing on his face.

"What are you gonna write a song about them?" Luke joked but you could really tell he appreciated the compliment.

"Maybe." You smiled. "No yeah I am."

Luke's eyes widened at your confession.

"Have you already recorded it?" Luke asked.

"No, I record it next week." You answered.

Luke made a realization. "Wait... I come home next week. Are you... I don't know waiting for me to get back?"

You chuckled at his awkwardness. "I might be. And I still have to fix some of it. I only have the demo."

"Your job is like so cool. I suck at singing." Luke comments.

You chuckled. "Well you're amazing at talking so maybe one day you could be featured in one of my songs."

Luke looked at you in suprise. "Me in one of your songs? That would freak everyone out!"

You shrugged. "I know but I want you on one of the tracks."

Luke looked at you in admiration. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"I've been told." You laughed.

In all honesty you could stare at Luke forever, more importantly you would probably drown in his eyes then an idea sparked.

"You just had an idea... what is it?" Luke asked.

"I know what to write, gotta go love you!" You rushed to your voice app.

"Love you too." Luke laughed.

You grabbed your guitar and began writing down lyrics on paper then you started the recording, getting to work.

One week later

Yourusername posted on their story!

Liked by lhughes_06, edwards.73. Viewed by 1,567,832 others...

Liked by username60, username75, and 18, 536 others...

Y/n.updates: Y/N and Luke outside the arena after the devils win tonight!

Comments

Username54: after Y/n's story I gotta admit these two are cute

Username68: WHY ARE THEY SO HOT

Username79: they are serving omg

Username52: is this man gonna make yn FINALLY drop a love song??

Username43: @/username52 damn I hope so I'm tired of crying to songs- I'VE NEVER KISSED A GIRL 😭

Yourusername just posted!

Liked by lhughes_06, tatemcrae, laufey, and 5,480,378 others...

Yourusername: my new single 'ocean eyes' is out midnight and my new album 'CARE' out October 30th!

Comments

Conangray: I live to see Halloween after all

Laufey: so so excited to listen!!!

Tatemcrae: 😏

Username48: @/tatemcrae WHAT DO YOU KNOW TATE

Username73: not the album release date the same as the hughes bowl 😭

Username89: @/username73 ik they're so evil for this

comments are limited

Several hours later...

You ran your fingers through Luke's hair as he patiently waited for your new song to come out. Since you two have started dating he's practically became your biggest fan(Conan did not take that lightly).

He refreshed his phone multiple times and checking the time every five seconds. You could see his eyes beam with joy as he realized it was midnight.

You awaited his reaction as he put his phone to his ear, looking up at you softly. You two stayed like a couple of minutes before the song came to a close.

"What do you think?" You asked, breaking the long silence.

"I- it's amazing." Luke gushed.

"You really think so?" You said softly.

"Of course I do. Your voice is beautiful... I could listen to it for hours if I'm being honest." He admits.

You kissed his forehead. "That's nice to hear."

"How long have you been thinking like this?" He asks.

"About writing a song about you?" He nods his head. "Honestly since the day we met. I always knew I would write a lyric in about your eyes I just never knew I would write a whole song about them."

"Well your songwriting is nice, can you write more songs about me?" Luke looks up at you.

"Oh yeah I definitely will... maybe about your arms next." You teased.

Luke chuckles. "I think you should do my ears- oh or my curls since you love to run through them so much."

You kissed the tip of his nose. "I love you."

Luke kissed you properly on the lips. "I love you too."

[juuuulez]

📰 | carmen berzatto x reader ; “Proximity.”

info: Carmen Berzatto x Reader, no pronouns (but written with fem! in mind), NYC era, tired Carmy, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs (cocaine/weed), you’re Carmen’s roommate.

summary: Carmen is your roommate: who happens to have terrible sleeping habits.

we rot, thinkin' lots about nothing / yeah, i could spend a lifetime / sitting here talkin' — comfort crowd, conan gray.

i don't feel like nothing special / i snag my tights out on the lawn chair / guess i’m a mess and play the role — i might say something stupid, charli xcx.

okay so BASICALLY this is kid krow boyfriend x brat girlfriend. expect three parts to this cute lil series my slayers. i’m insatiable and music makes me write.

“Jesus, what’ve I said about sleepin’ on the couch?”

Your voice is a shrill whine in the small apartment. The space itself is dingy, a two-bedroom joint in New York City. Mess forms on just about every surface, namely the coffee table, stacked high with a combination of culinary books, trays of pencils, and dirtied ashtrays.

Heels clack as you clamber into the living room, dropping down to your knees aside the couch. Carmy is dead to the world, passed out with his face pressed into the cushion, hair all tangled and wild.

You grab onto his shoulder, trying to push him upright with an exasperated groan. It doesn’t work. Finally, you use sharp, manicured nails to tug at his ear, a sharp pinch that finally awakens your roommate.

“Fuck.” Carmen grumbles, only pushing his face deeper into the pillow to evade any further scolding.

“Get off the couch, asshole.” You continue to berate him, “You pay for a room, so go sleep in it.”

Living in New York was expensive. So, you advertised for taking in a roommate. Someone lowkey who would stay out of your business, keep their shit to themselves, and best case scenario, help cook every now and then.

Carmen Berzatto seemed like the jackpot.

Except he was run absolutely ragged. Sure, the restaurant he worked at was classy, whatever. You didn’t care enough to indulge in the details. But the man would work for hours on end, and pass out on the first surface he could find.

Which brought you back to the problem at hand.

“I’m serious.” You continue, “I wanna watch Grey’s Anatomy before bed and have my joint. It’s my nightly ritual, you gotta fuckin’ move.”

At this point you were leaning your full weight against him, pushing Carmen deeper into the cushion. He groaned and finally rolled over, prompting you to let go, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Y’can’t watch it in y’er room?” He asks.

You huff, sitting on the hardwood floor in defeat. “No. There’s no TV in there, and my phone is dead.”

Carmen finally clears his foggy vision, blinking tiredly as he inspects your form, slumped on the ground beside him. A tight little black top clings to you, along with a matching pencil skirt.

“Did y’go out?” He asks, gaining some sense of awareness. The pair of you didn’t discuss personal stuff, most of the time Carmen had no idea what you were up to.

He was an early riser, you weren’t. Carmen would get home after a long shift and pass out, while you still roamed the streets late into the night. In a way, it was nice, as the pair of you wouldn’t often clash or argue for you simply weren’t in each other’s way.

Except for now, of course.

“Yes.” You huff, “And now it’s late and ‘m tired and have a headache. All I wanna do is watch Grey’s Anatomy and pass out on my,” You punctuate the word by stealing the throw pillow from him. “couch.”

There’s nowhere to argue. Technically, it was your couch. It was your apartment. Carmen knew he should be grateful, given that he simply had to pay a portion of rent, yet wasn’t responsible for the financial burden of all the furniture you’d collected beforehand.

Instead of just moving, Carmen finds himself wondering about your night. The headache. “How much did y’drink?” He asks.

You catch on, standing with an irritated groan. The throw pillow is tossed back down, to which Carmen grips it and pulls it to his chest. He wants to fall back asleep so badly. But now you’re causing a commotion, leaning against the wall and prying each heel off with huffs of frustration, throwing them somewhere down the hallway.

“It’s not the alcohol, it’s Katie’s bum-ass coke.” You complain loudly. “She gets it for free ‘cus she’s fucking this guy, but it’s just not good. Like, I can feel my brain cells evaporating and screaming like it’s a fiery wreck up there.”

Carmen hums, fiending understanding. Of course. It’s definitely not one of his favourite things about you. But, it’s not really his place to step in, to point out all the terrible choices you make. Sometimes he finds himself tempted to, but has to remember that would make things weird.

You didn’t want his baggage. Fuck, Carmen certainly didn’t want yours. It was a box that shouldn’t be opened, a line that won’t be crossed.

“Y’ever think about.. just not doing it?” Carmen ends up saying, his voice quiet and tentative, unable to help himself but prod the tiniest bit.

Thankfully, you brush it off, dumping a shiny pile of jewellery onto the coffee table to join the existing mess. “Yeah, right. Then I’ll get massive FOMO and it’ll kill the entire vibe. Great advice. Now scooch.”

Carmen has no choice but to shift as your stocking-clad foot nudges his thigh. There’s a hole in it, around your ankle, and he absentmindedly wonders how that happened. Regardless, he sits further up on the couch, making room for you to ungracefully slump beside him. It’s a close proximity, but one he’s slowly gotten adjusted to, finding that you’re the kind of person who simply doesn’t care about all these little touches.

The ones that make Carmen all flustered and nervous, the ones he’ll overthink whenever his mind isn’t so loud.

You lay on your side, legs curled up in the space that isn’t occupied by Carmen’s thighs. It looks like you’re ready to sleep in this position, and Carmen resists making a comment about how hypocritical that would be.

There’s a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again.

“What’s the time, anyway?” Carmen asks.

You give a little shrug, the motion halfhearted and yet full of effort. “Like, three. Wanted to leave earlier, but it was this whole big thing.”

Carmy doesn’t bother indulging, instead giving a short hum as he thinks about it. All this time, and yet he’s never met any of your friends. You don’t bring them over, mostly because you’re barely home at night. He wonders if they’re like you.

“Shoes.” You suddenly pipe up again, a foot once again nudging him. “Y’were sleepin’ in them.”

He looks down, noticing the fact that his sneakers are still on. It makes his brows furrow, brain still all hazy from sleep, resisting the urge to melt back into the couch and continue his nap.

“Wasn’t thinking.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes once more. They sting slightly with the light you’ve turned on down the hall, the one neither of you will get up to switch off.

With the last of his willpower, Carmen toes off his shoes, letting them land somewhere underneath the coffee table. One of your heels lingers nearby, too.

“Clearly.” You mumble, “Your bedroom is three steps away, and you’re sleeping here. Weirdo.”

It’s not exactly venomous, and if Carmen was any other person he’d probably smile. Laugh a little. But he’s not. The pair of you are so different to the point where Carmen struggles to understand you, and to combat this issue, he’s reduced your role in his life to that of a stranger: a passing face on his eventual journey for something bigger.

“What about that joint?” He reminds you, deciding to ignore the slight snipe.

It earns another groan, drawn-out and dramatic as you press your cheek into the armrest. “No way ‘m getting up now.”

There’s a beat of silence as Carmen shifts, leaning over the couch to the floor. He finds his abandoned pile of belongings, the stuff he’d dropped after work seconds before passing out. A carton of cigarettes find his hand, tugging one out to place it between his lips.

He flicks the lighter, inhales, lets it spark to life. Then, Carmen takes it back out, passing it down and holding it in front of your face. Even with your eyes closed, you knew that noise, and didn’t need any direction to lean forward and snatch it between your teeth.

The sound you make is a pleased one, inhaling deep and letting it out. It manages to quell your headache slightly, to lessen that irritability that always grows after a night out like this, where the coming day you’ll be snappy and tired and miserable.

You ask for Alexa to play Grey’s Anatomy, the Google TV opening to the episode you were last on.

Carmen smiles when you thank it, as if the television was sentient.

Though he’s never been one for medical shows, Carmen doesn’t seem to mind. That’s because he barely watches it, passing out again maybe 5 minutes into the episode, still sitting up against the couch. It doesn’t even matter, for you follow suit not much later, the cigarette burnt out and filter falling to the floor in an ashy pile.

[eloriis]

HEATHER - lando norris

in which. . heather was everything lando wanted and y/n could never be her, no matter what she did — ln4 x f! reader

- inspired by heather | conan gray

warnings : body image issues(?), slight mentions of being intoxicated, let me know if there’s anything else!

notes: first fully written post and angst, kinda scared about how it’s going to do cuz i haven’t written in so long.

i hate angst or sad endings so i have no idea what got me to actually go through with this idea 💀💀

type : written ⋆ word count : 1.3k

i still remember the third of december, me in your sweater

i was currently in lando’s living room scrolling through my phone when lando walked into the room and sat down beside me, pulled out his phone, and asked, “what do you want for lunch? i was planning on ordering some food.” i put my phone down and looked into his beautiful aquamarine eyes, which were already looking into mine. “anything works really." he glanced down at his phone and looked up. “uhhh you in mood for some... pasta??"  i gave him a little nod and smiled, “yeah sure! that sounds great.”

you said it looked better on me than it did you

he quickly placed the order and looked at me with a bright smile. “the order has been placed, my lady.” giggling, i replied, “oh how kind of you, sir." he looked at me and quickly smiled when he saw what i was wearing. “my sweater looks so much better on you than me, pretty girl." a small blush rose in my neck. “thank you, lan” i quietly replied with a smile.

 only if you knew how much i liked you

i felt a small weight on my heart after the compliment. i knew he meant it as a friendly gesture, but i couldn’t help but want it to be something more intimate. i wanted to tell him just how much i loved him and wanted him to myself, but i knew.

 but i watch your eyes as she walks by

i knew how you felt about her, how you thought she was the prettiest girl in the world, and how she had the prettiest smile and the most gorgeous eyes. how could i not? with all the times you’ve ranted about her to me?

 what a sight for sore eyes

everyone knew how much she meant to you; anyone with half a brain and eyes would. your eyes were practically heart-shaped whenever she was around.

 brighter than the blue sky

it was almost as if she were the walking sun. whenever she was around, your bright blue eyes would somehow become even brighter and bluer.

 she’s got you mesmerized while i die

i couldn’t help but feel like i was drowning in my own feelings and thoughts whenever I saw her or heard her name. she’s got you on your knees for her, the same way you have me on my knees for you.

 why would you ever kiss me?

it was 2:47 a.m on a saturday night, and you were in my apartment after a night of partying too hard. i left you to freshen up and got you some water, when i came back and watched you gulp the water down, i felt like this was the closest i could ever get to calling you my boyfriend. you suddenly stood up and walked closer to me. my eyes widened as you were walking closer and closer to me. you suddenly held my right cheek and whispered, “you’re so pretty, i could kiss you right now.”

i shouldn’t have done it, i shouldn’t have told you to do it. i knew it would kill me the next day, but i had finally had the chance to know how you feel. how could i ever pass that up?

 i’m not even half as pretty

standing in front of the mirror, i could tell why he liked her. she had the most gorgeous hair, the perfect body, the sweetest voice, and really, really pretty eyes.

 you gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester

she walked into the room wearing your sweater, which fit her perfectly. it was not very baggy but not very form-fitting either, maybe it’s because of her body. the worst part wasn’t that she looked so comfortable in it, but the way you looked at her, like she had hung the stars and the moon in the sky.

 

but you like her better

 wish i were heather

all i want is one day. just one day in her body to know how it feels to have you love me. that’s all i ask for.

 watch as she stands with her, holding your hand

her hands fit perfectly into yours; they looked as if Aphrodite herself had made each of your hands with the other in mind.

 put your arm ‘round her shoulder, now i’m getting colder

i turned around excitedly to look at lando as our song started playing in the background of the club, only to come face-to-face with another scene that had my heart cracking even more and another night successfully ruined.

he was talking to some of our mutual friends, which wasn’t even the worst part. he had his arm around her shoulder, holding her securely as she started laughing about something lando had said. a shiver went down my spine, and the chill i felt was nothing compared to how my heart was hurting.

 but how could i hate her? she’s such an angel

“oh my god, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to intrude.” i was just in the restroom, touching up my makeup and talking to my best friend over the phone, when she walked into the restroom. she looked like she was genuinely surprised and did not mean to walk in.

i almost felt bad for trying to antagonize her.

but then again, kinda wish she were dead as she

walks by

all the feelings of guilt had disappeared when i was back where i was a few weeks ago. standing beside lando, talking to him when she walks into the room, stealing his attention as always.

 what a sight for sore eyes

i could feel my eyes tearing up; i couldn’t make a scene. not here in public. i quickly excused myself to the restroom and walked towards it with my head down while taking shaky breaths every ten seconds to try and calm myself.

 brighter than the blue sky

it happened again; your eyes suddenly became so much brighter and more vibrant when you looked at her. it hurts. i wish i could just tell you how much you mean to me and how i want to be more than just your friend, but no, i can’t do this to you or myself. i can’t make you choose between me and her when i know that you’ll always choose her.

she’s got you mesmerized while i die

i wish that you were under a spell—a spell that makes you look at her as if she’s the only person who matters. a spell that makes you want her and not me. i also wish that maybe, if she does have you under a spell, i could learn it too. just for one day, just to know how it feels to be your everything.

 why would you ever kiss me?

that night haunts me. your lips on mine were the best thing i’ve ever felt. it was short, but it will always be the most precious moment to me. the ghost of your lips keeps me awake at night, hoping that maybe you'll come again, for another kiss that i can treasure. but i know it will never happen, not when you have her to go to.

i’m not even half as pretty

i would never be like her, no matter how much i workout, what I eat, or what I wear. i could never compare myself to her. she’s the sun while i’m just another star somewhere in the sky.

 you gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester

i saw your sweater again, a different one. it was the one i gave you on your birthday last year, the one you loved so much and promised to never let anyone touch it or take it away from you. i guess that promise means nothing to you, just like the many other ones that we shared.

 but you like her better

no matter what you do or say, i know that i’ll always be second to her. i don’t have to hear it from anyone; i can see it as clearly as broad daylight.

 

i wish i were heather.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

@bingussthirdtoe

[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

��A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

[just-some-random-blogger]

Maniac

Ex!Aemond Targaryen x Reader + Rebound!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Not everyone can take the pressure of being involved with a Targaryen. Beyond the heat the media give the powerful family, there was the heat of those in power within the house that stood between everything. This is what lead to Aemond letting you go and Daemon swiping you up.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: modern au, fem!reader, mention/depiction of sex, old money!targaryren, smoking, drinking, eternally smug!daemon, eternally annoyed!aemond, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a poll decided pairing (: . idk i thought of this plot while vibing to maniac by conan gray Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @lxdyred

"Hey puppy," I coo as I jog up to the door and cup Aemond's face. I pepper him with kisses before wrapping my arms around him, "how was work?" He looks at me, grabs my wrists, pulls my arms away, and speaks my name. I raise a brow, "Aemond?" "I'm breaking up with you."

The bass in the venue thumps in my ribcage. I hop around with the sea of people to the beat of some obscure EDM song. I throw my head back and cheer. I sway my hips after downing the contents of my cup.

I nearly gag as I burp. I wipe my lips as I still for a moment to get my bearings.

Fuck. If he knew, Aemond would be so-

I growl when I catch myself in the middle of that thought. I mess my already messed hair up and crush my plastic cup.

No, no. Fuck Aemond.

I shirk when the bodies around me begin to get too close for comfort. Time to get out of here.

I weave through the crowd, glad the sequins of my fitted red dress wasn't getting snagged into anyone's clothing. As I squeeze through a group of girls, I catch a face from the corner of my eye. His burning blonde hair looked pink under the lights; still, he was unmistakable, and it seemed so was I, judging by how he raises his glass to me after we lock eyes.

I look away. How dare he act so familiar?

I turn back to him. He beckons me over with a head tilt.

I scoff. Fuck you. How dare you tell me what to do after all the shit you put me though?

I take a split second to debate whether or not I want to deal with him tonight. It's probably going to be horrible if I do, and yet, my feet are taking me straight into the eye of the storm.

That was, until the bouncer in the VIP section blocks me.

I look up at him and blink, "hi."

"No sneaking in, love," he mutters.

"Let her through, Sandor," a voice calls, making the said man look over his shoulder and turn back to me. He steps away and unhinges the stanchion, motioning with his head.

I walk through, smile, and nod, "thank you, Sandor."

Sandor ignores me and goes back to his post.

"Hello, baby girl," the blonde says from the bar he's leaned on.

I sit down on the stool next to him and grimace, "hello, bastard."

He shifts on his elbow, "I'll have you know Rhaenyra's children have been legitimized following her marriage to Strong."

I pretend to hum in intrigue as I place my crushed cup next to his martini glass.

"But of course, you wouldn't know that because you were too sick to attend the wedding," he tilts his head, "or so Aemond says."

I shrug, "Aemond and I broke up."

"A mutual break up?" he quirks his brows, "I doubt that. What'd he do?"

I narrow my eyes at him, "what do you mean?"

"Oh come on," he waves a hand, "you wouldn't let me touch that kid with a 6 foot pole. What? Did he fuck your sister? Think it was you?"

I cringe, "that's something more on brand for you, Daemon."

"I'll have you know, I have perfect eyesight," he takes his glass, "my nephew however..."

I glare at him.

Daemon sniggers before he sips his drink, "see. Even now you're on his side."

I lick my lips in annoyance, "I'm not on his side."

"Worry not, darling," he turns and motions to the bartender, "the wraith is awfully attached to you." The bartender walks over. "You'll at least see him grovel and beg for you-- a cosmo," he turns to me, "right?"

I clench my jaw then shrug.

Daemon turns back to the bartender and nods. The bartender mutters 'you got it' before walking off.

"He broke up with me."

Daemon takes his glass but sets it down before he even takes a sip.

I look at him and feel irritation rise up my throat. I cough it out with a- "is that really so hard to imagine?"

He tilts his head, "I'm confused. You want me to think this makes sense?"

"I want you to remember how you laughed when Aemond's dad called me a bootlicking bimbo-"

Daemon chortles immediately.

"- and how you always remarked on the dresses I wore whenever I was around. Aemond's grandpa ended up giving me shit for it!"

"Woah," Daemon wheezes, "okay. Otto is a true cunt, to you especially, but can you blame me? You truly are distracting in those dresses, darling." He motions to my body.

I jump off my seat and shove his shoulder, "fuck you, Daemon. He called me a harlot when he thought I wasn't looking."

The next second, I'm walking away fuming, but the sniggering moron stands and grabs my arm, "look. It's funny because it's stupid."

I whip my head back and yank my arm away, "fuck you!"

"Why are you so bothered by what Viserys and that old fuck think anyway?" he gives a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes, "it's not-"

"Why would I care about what my boyfriend's father and grandfather think of me?!"

"Ex," Daemon shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "and you and I both know it's not true."

"It's true to them," I point to nowhere as I feel my eyes water at the memory.

"It's really not," he mutters, digging his hand in the inner pocket of his coat, " 's just some shit they said cos they're pissed."

I turn away from him and tilt my head back, fanning my face as I refused to shed a tear, especially in front of him.

Daemon watches and places a cigarette between his lips, "I know big brother didn't like the fact he couldn't find a reason to hate you."

I clench my jaw as I glare at Daemon.

He pulls out a lighter and opens it. The stick in the corner of his mouth wiggles as he speaks, "he had plans to match Aemond with a Baratheon girl."

A line forms between my brows.

He lights his stick and takes a deep swig of nicotine. Smoke comes out of his nose and mouth, making my face contort further. Daemon then swipes his thumb on the crinkle on my forehead, "trust me, Baratheons are boorish."

I feel my lips quiver.

Aemond told me not to worry about her.

I feel like my insides were being ripped out.

Don't you do it. Don't you dare fucking cry over-

"Baby girl-"

"Don't you fucking call me that, asshole," I hiss as saltwater begins to pour from my eyes.

Daemon feels immensely uncomfortable, "want a puff?"

I begin to feel my eyes burn because of my makeup.

I have to get out of here.

He sighs and rubs the tears off my skin before turning to the bar where the Cosmo was just placed. "If you're gonna cry over Targaryen," he mutters as he pulls out his wallet and settles his bill. He turns back to me, handing me he drink.

I do not get it from him and he sighs again as he places it down. I cringe at the smell of his smoke. He continues, "wouldn't it be better if it was because of my dick?"

My face contorts.

He draws in another deep breath and pulls the stick out of his mouth using two fingers.

"Fuck you, Daemon," I growl before turning away.

"My place then?" he follows after.

Daemon follows me outside.

I am booking a ride home on my phone

"Oh, don't be boring," he snatches the object and places it over his head.

"Daemon!"

"Don't worry," he looks up and cancels my order, "I already called one."

"Give it back!"

"Oh, come on, you want to wallow in your self-pity or have it fucked out of you?" he offers, "besides, the car will be here in five."

My eye twitches, "how is that even possible?!"

"Shortcuts, babes," he mutters as he bites his cigarette and adjusts it in his lips. He tilts his head, "you make a shortcut for a ride, put it on your homescreen, give it a push-- gods, maybe you are a bimbo."

I grunt and snatch his cigarette and put it out on his chest. He yelps and pulls back as it surely burned through his shirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I fake-pout, "I thought you were done with that."

Daemon glares at me as he brushes his shirt off, "oh, you want to mark me, do you, little girl?"

"I don't want-" the words retreat into my mouth when he marches over and I find myself pushed against the streetlight. His arms are on my sides, hands gripping the pole behind me.

"Don't want what?" Daemon leans in, close enough that I can smell the cigarette smoke and the cologne on him. It was an overpowering smell.

I feel my body warm as he laughs at my silence.

"You know, I always knew you'd burn Aemond's fingers. I just didn't know he'd pussy out and let go if you got too hot."

Daemon looks past me and leans back, taking my hand as a car pulls up, "I happen to bask in dragon fire."

"How original."

I let him drag me back to his place. I let him get under my skin, into me. The night was filled with spiteful remarks, mocking laughs, and rough kisses, but it was also surprisingly filled with whispered praises, reassuring touches, and unbroken promises of pleasure.

It was no competition though, and in the first place, I should not have been comparing one or the other. It was an unfortunate reflex as of late. And it was easy for my mind to think him when his uncle's hair fell on his face almost the same way his did.

Gods they even said the same shit, it was fucking with my head.

I ended up saying Aemond instead of Daemon at one point, and spent what felt like hours being punished for the mistake.

It was clear, twice that after it was rectified by Daemon, he wasn't Aemond. He was nothing like him. Daemon was a good fuck but we didn't do it in his bedroom. He didn't want to hold me after, nor did he make an effort to clean me (or himself) up. He called me good girl but didn't say I love you, for obvious reasons. He made my flesh sting but made no efforts to soothe. And when he marked my skin and called me his, I didn't feel like I belonged, I felt like I was owned.

He did leave me tired in his guestroom before getting up to sleep in his own bed. But I was not tired enough to resist the itch of getting on the internet the moment I woke up. I felt like I was on autopilot as my fingers moved.

I had to hold back a sound when I saw Floris Baratheon's post of her in the Targaryen estate's garden. I shudder at the caption. Luncheon date my ass.

Oh gods.

I could feel tears building up as I opened a browser and looked up Targaryen and Baratheon.

Relationship?

My heart was pounding. I sit up and push the sheets off me while I scroll through article after article.

"Oh, good," the door creaks, "you're up. Are you the one that's allergic to nuts or was that someone else entirely?"

I look up at Daemon as he peeks through the door of his guest room. His hair is damp, signifying a fresh shower. He walks in when I full on break into a sob. He curses then blurts, "does something hurt? Do you need something?"

"Aemond is with Floris?"

He stops in his tracks, "what?"

I drop my phone and retreat under the covers, "he told me he never even spoke to her, and now they're together?"

Daemon purses his lips then sucks in a breath, propping his hands right above the band of his red boxers, "right," he rubs his bare belly, "you want breakfast or not? Should I use almond milk? It's the only thing I got."

"FUCK YOU!" I growl and chuck a pillow at him.

The pillow misses Daemon by a mile and he stares at it as it flies off to the side. He turns back to me then wipes his nose, "fine. I'm putting the almond milk," he walks off, raising a finger, "also, I have work in an hour. If you stay, know your dress is on the couch. My cleaning lady might do something with it though."

Daemon's bare feet tingle against the cold tiles of the penthouse. He sniffles and turns on the fireplace with a remote before heading back to the kitchen.

One of the few things he could actually cook was oatmeal, and he was pretty good at it, if he did say so himself.

He furrows his brows when he hears the telltale button sounds of the front door. He turns to the digital clock on the wall and wonders if the cleaning lady was coming in early today.

Daemon is pulling out some fruit from the fridge when he hears a rather unwelcomed voice call out to him, "good morning, Uncle." Or should he say welcomed?

He looks at the him, unable to hold back his smirk, and sets down the things on the counter, "fancy a bowl of oats, Aemond?"

"Father instructed me to get the Harrenhal files from you."

Daemon chews on a raspberry as he mixes the pot of oats, "that's the longest no I've ever heard."

Aemond watches Daemon grab two bowls. He shakes his head, "I've already eaten."

" 'S not for you, darlin'," he retorts as he turns the stove off and pour the content.

In that moment, Aemond looks around and spots a glimmering dress on the couch. He involuntarily thinks it looks familiar but thinks little of it as he turns back to Daemon, "I didn't realize you had company."

Daemon snorts, "she's a feisty one. You'd know about that, right?"

Aemond does not react as his uncle grins.

He points to his chest, "burnt me with my own cigarette," he smirks, but it doesn't last. "Also, tell your old man if he asks the cleaning lady for my passcode again, I'm breaking his teeth."

"I'm just here for the Harrenhal files."

Daemon eyes Aemond before pouring the food into the bowl, "why? I'm coming to the meeting with it in an hour."

The latter tilts his head, "father mentioned you got into an argument and thought you might not show."

"So," the former puts the pot down with much more force than necessary, "he had his son break into my house?"

"I was going to wake you if you were asleep."

"And if I wasn't here?" Daemon leans on the counter.

Aemond shrugs, "I'd look for it myself."

Daemon is about to burst into a fit of High Valyrian curses up until his name is called out. Him and Aemond turn to the side.

"I showered in your bathroom and now I'm stealing your shit!" I call out as I rub my hair with a towel I found in his guestroom.

I look at my puffy eyes and purple neck marks in the mirror in his bedroom and hear Daemon call out, "what shit?!"

I go through his closet and grab a the first shirt I spot, "your watch!"

I vaguely hear him chuckle, "I don't have watches in my bedroom-

"Pity," I mutter under my breath.

"- but feel free to get whatever clothing you want!"

A generous statement, Aemond thinks. He used to watch his uncle bring back different women all the time when he still lived at the estate with them. He never once was like this though. He watches Daemon as he chuckles. He finds it immensely bizarre that his uncle seems so giddy. He's beckoned by him again, "sure you don't want a bowl, wraith?"

Aemond grumbles at the nickname, he always hated it, and merely clenches his jaw.

He shrugs, "suit yourself."

"Will you give me the files or not, Daemon?"

Daemon looks at him before grabbing two spoons from the drawer, "fine. Want them so bad? I'll give them to you."

"Thank you," he mutters in relief.

"Why don't you take a seat, scarecrow," Daemon adds, "you're going to spook the girl."

Aemond rolls his eyes as he moves over to the living space. He sits on the one sofa chair and eyes the red dress across him for a moment. He then looks out the window before pulling out his phone.

Daemon watches his nephew walk off. He holds back a laugh as he turns back to the oatmeal. He practically combusts with excitement when he hears shuffling from the left.

He looks up at me as I walk over to him.

"Morning, baby girl," Daemon coos and crosses his arms, "my stolen shirt suits you."

Aemond clears his throat involuntarily upon hearing this. He couldn't have whispered? He fishes for his earpods in his pocket and curses himself for not bringing it.

My eyes take in how Daemon's chest bulged. He takes in my puffy eyes as I retort, "want it back? You look cold."

Aemond finds himself eyeing the dress again after hearing that. Why does her voice sound like that?

Daemon lips quirk. He grabs the shirt I was wearing and pulls me toward him. I collide with his chest and his hand slips under the fabric, "naughty girl. You'd offer such a thing when you're not even wearing underwear?"

This is definitely not something Aemond signed up for.

I raise a brow at Daemon, "when did you become such a prude?"

He chuckles and places a hand on my shoulder. His thumb rubs the marks he left on my neck, "you want me to fuck you the counter?"

Right. Aemond stands from the couch and turns to Daemon, "just tell me where the file is and I'll get it myself."

I jolt and grab at Daemon upon hearing that.

Daemon breaks into a laugh.

I whisper-yell, "there's someone here?!"

Daemon pushes my hair back as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder, "actually, now that I think about it, I think the Harrenhal files are in the file cabinet in my office."

Aemond's fury blazes then dissipates in an instant. He is frozen in his spot when he locks eyes with me.

My body has a rather instant reaction to him. My mouth watered as though I was about to vomit. My hold on Daemon is released.

Aemond's mind was racing as he eyes my appearance. His throat constricts, eye almost flinching as he notices my pert nipples and the dark hues across my neck.

Daemon is the only one not petrified. He rubs my side before pulling away to get his bowl of oats. He eats a spoonful before muttering to Aemond, "it's in the bottom drawer, methinks."

Aemond completely ignores this, eyes fixed on me, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

Daemon raises a brow, "don't think that's any of your business."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I rebut.

Aemond scoffs, "what am I doing in my uncle's home?"

I scoff too, "it's not like you two were ever close, Aemond."

Daemon looks between us as he eats, "this is really good."

"So what?!" Aemond barks, "you're fucking him to get back at me?! A rather pitiful play on revenge, don't you think?"

The ferocity of his tone stabs through my chest. He was never one to raise his voice, and hearing his voice was already painful as it is. I am glad I have the wits to snark back, "why would I need to get back at you? You've been nothing to me for the past two months. I'm doing this because I want to."

Daemon licks his lips as he unabashedly chuckles.

Aemond clenches his fists.

I begin to heave heavily.

The longest of moments pass.

Daemon catches the way I begin to falter. He pushes the other bowl of oatmeal towards me, "eat before it gets cold."

I turn to Daemon after grabbing the bowl. I immediately stuff my mouth. I meant to give a really exaggerated reaction, but I find myself momentarily distracted by how genuinely good the oatmeal tasted. I mumble, "... this is really good."

Daemon smiles, "it is, isn't it?"

I tense when Aemond calls out my name.

Daemon's smile disappears as he turns to his nephew.

"Let's talk about it outside," Aemond mutters.

Daemon scoffs, "if she wanted to talk to you outside, she'd have said so by now, don't you think?"

"This has nothing to do with you, Daemon," Aemond rebuts.

I flinch when Daemon drops his bowl carelessly on the counter and straightens up, "this has everything to do with me. She went home with me; she's in my house, wearing my shirt, being demanded things by my stupid nephew, who, by the way, is now leaving."

"She's my ex-girlfriend," Aemond's neck strains. He steps forward.

"Yes, she was your girlfriend and now she wants nothing to do with you-- get out!"

The decay of Daemon's loud voice merely intensifies the tension in the room. I cannot express the relief I felt at the sound of withdrawing footsteps. I let out a sigh when I hear the door bang shut and bury my face in my hands.

Daemon shifts in his place and looks down at me, "pretty satisfying, no?"

"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU TELL ME AEMOND WAS HERE?!" I explode and attack him with punches.

[emeraldthelynx]

Gift for @livmadart because Arsène won't leave me alone.

Ran let a long-suffering sigh out through her lungs. Of course Dad was drooling in front of the TV for A Yoko Okino show.

Again.

Conan was making himself happy with a thick mystery book on the couch, smirking to himself as he came across sections with clues. Really, he was just like Shinichi, trying to guess the mystery before it was solved. Sometimes she really had to wonder… There was a small, but rapid-fire knock on the office door. It sounded like a little fist. Conan rose his head in confusion. Ran looked down at him. "Conan, did you invite one of your friends over?" she asked. Conan shook his head, staring blankly. "No." he said. Ran looked back at her dad for a moment, then sighed. He was still drooling over the TV. "I'll go get it." she said. Conan's voice spiked urgently as she turned the knob. "W-wait! Don't let him-" The door swung open, and a little boy with a face just like Conan's burst into the room.

"Big brother! I found you!" he said. Ran whirled around, and her dad stared dumbly away from the screen. Conan's eyes were big and he frankly looked freaked out. "Ki- Arsène! I told you to stay at home!" he yelled. The clone, Arsène, dropped his bag to the floor of the office. "But, big brother! How can I stay at home when you're having such amazing adventures without me?" He grinned, eyes flashing a cheeky look. "Besides, you get to meet my hero, Kaito KID! I've got to see him, brother! I've just got to!" he said. Conan glared, and shot off the couch. "No Kaito KID!" he yelled, and started to chase Arsène. Arsène shrieked with laughter. "Ke ke ke! Catch me if you can, brother!" "I've caught you once, I'll catch you again!" "The number of time you've caught me is zeer-o!" "I'll use my sneakers!" "Meanie!" Ran stared at the sight of the two first-graders chasing each other around the couch in a state of half-shock. Her dad slowly straightened out. "The brat has a brother?" he said. Ran looked at this Arsène boy. He looked identical to Conan, if you excluded the bird's nest of hair and the missing glasses. "It looks like it?" she said. Conan lunged for Arsène. "You little KID!" Arsène twirled deftly out of the way, and Conan sprawled onto the floor. The twin looked down at him, brushed his bangs out of his face, and smiled politely. "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Ran." he said. He flicked his wrist, and a blue rose appeared. He grinned. "It's magic!" he said. Ran took the rose, looking at Arsène carefully. "Th-thank you." she said. She looked at Conan. The little boy was rubbing his head, and glaring at his apparent twin. "Conan, you never told me you had a twin brother." she said. Conan glared at Arsène. "That's because I don't like him." he said. Arsène plunked himself down on the couch. "But I like you, tiny detective! I told Papa that I'd be okay staying with you instead of traveling with him, so here I am!" he said, smiling wide and innocently. Dad stood up from behind his desk. "It's not 'okay' for you to be staying here, brat! I'm already taking care of your troublemaking big brother, I don't need another one of you around!" he said. Arsène frowned. "But Mr. famous detective Mouri! My brother has so many adventures with a the great detective! I want to have adventures too!" he said. Dad snorted, but it was clear Arsène was working to his ego. "Little brat. Fine! But you'd better pull your weight and not get in my way on a case like your big brother!" he said. Conan crossed his arms. "Make him go away, uncle!" he said. Arsène ignored him, and instead bounced up to Dad's desk. "Can I call you uncle too, Mr. famous detective?" he said. Dad groaned, and leaned back. "Sure sure. Now stop interrupting me, you're making me miss too much of Yoko's show!" he said, and turned back to the TV. Arsène stood on tiptoe to watch for a minute. Conan slapped his forehead. Ran bent down to him. "Conan, do you really hate you brother this much? You really should of told me you had one." she said. Conan pouted. "But, Ran! Arsène is a lot of trouble! He bugs me as much as Kaito KID!" he said. Ran thought she might of imagined Arsène looking back for a quick moment with an irritated look that wouldn't have been out of place on Shinichi's face, but ignored it. Ran picked up Conan.

"But you still like the challenges that the KID makes, right? So you can't dislike your brother so much you can forget about him. Isn't that right, big brother Conan?" she said. Conan frowned, turned away, but Ran could tell by the way he relaxed his body that he had accepted his fate. Arsène turned back from looking at the TV. "Miss Ran? Can I go up too?" he asked. Conan's body went rigid. "No way! You're not allowed to touch Ran!" he said. Arsène smirked. "Protective much, little detective?" he said. Conan glared. "Little KID magician!" "Tiny tiny detective!" "Meddling magician!" "Nosy investigator!" "Rule breaker!" "Teacher's pet!" Ran slowly felt a headache build in the back of her head. Oh boy, she hoped she wouldn't regret this. She belatedly realized later that Shinichi didn't have a twin brother. Well there went that theory…

[jujutsukatsuki]

Memories || B.K

|| in honor of someone sending in a hate mail about my writing and specifically part one of this work, which you don’t have to read to understand this. Here’s part two! This is dedicated to that hater! Listen to Memories by Conan Gray to get the full effect! ||

It had been six months since she saw him, since he broke her heart. Since he walked out the door like she meant nothing. She saw him on tv often, Pro Hero Dynamite, every week it was a report about how he saved the city or was accepting a new award for his heroics.

It wasn’t fair.

She stilled lived in the same apartment, mainly cause they had signed a two year lease so she couldn’t leave. She had finally managed to get herself to stop crying when she would look at the old pictures of the two of them.

She watches the rain out the window, a black cardigan pulled around her as she sees the sidewalks puddled with water. She takes a sip of her red wine as a soft knock breaks the gentle silence of the apartment. The cat she had gotten a month after he left her, gently meows and jumped up on the entry table next to the dark oak front door.

The walk to the door is quick from her cozy chair that overlooks the sidewalk. She looks through the peephole and sees red eyes peering through it at her. She jumps before she opens the door.

“Bakugou?” The use of his last name makes his skin crawl, he groans.

“I just.. can we talk? Y/n?” He looks at her, he can watch the gears in her brain turn as she looks at him. She can see how wet his hoodie is and she can’t help but open the door for him.

He slides in and goes to walk into the living room but stumbles over the cat.

“Who put a fuckin’ cat there?!” He grumbled before letting the cat sniff his hand.

She watches him cautiously, like she’s a wild animal and he’s prey.

Somehow they end up on the kitchen floor, Bakugou is wrapped in a blanket, his clothes put in the dryer. Y/n has her back against the cabinets as she watches him, her knees are pulled tight to her chest as if they were a shield guarding her heart from him.

“I miss you.” His voice is rough, she can see the remainder of the black make up he wore under his hero mask.

“I wish you’d stay in my memories.” She bites back, her tone is sharp, callous, calculated.

“I deserve that.” He agrees and runs his hands through the damp blonde streaks, the black cat named Starfire had curled up next to him.

‘Traitor’ Y/n thinks in her head as she eyes her companion.

“I hate what I did to you.. I was trying to pr-“

“So help me god if you say protect me.” Y/n snaps, her eyes watering from the confrontation.

“Y/n.. baby.. you don’t get it..” he tried to reason, his eyes search hers for any hope that he can explain.

“I get it. I got it when I came home to a half empty apartment and you sat me down and then walked out. I understood when you blocked my number. I understood when you had security kick me out of your agency when I wanted to talk to you.”

Bakugou closes his eyes, the alcohol has gotten to his head and he feels ill, or maybe it’s the guilt for his actions.

“You protected me all through out high school and college and I supported you when you were in hero school and starting out and you faced greater threats then whatever it was this time. You didn’t leave me then. So what was it Bakugou? What the fuck was it?!”

His last name on her tongue feels wrong, he wants to hear katsuki from her pretty lips.

“I.. I got scared. I wanted to marry you but I got scared. I wasn’t ready.” He whispers and moves closer to Y/n, he moves to lay on the ground, his head in her lap.

“Please Y/n… I’m sorry… please understand.”

She can feel the tears fall on the bare skin of her thigh, she thinks about the last few months that they were together in her head. The way he had gotten a call about a nine thousand dollar transaction on his card, the way he always would stand in the closet and be staring at something but hide it away when Y/n would come around. His mom texting and asking when they could go get their nails done even when they had never done that before.

Y/n looks down at the sobbing drunk man and sighs, she rubs the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut. The sound of the dryer going off rips her from all thought.

“I’ll be right back.” She gently maneuvers out from under him and goes to get his laundry. When she returns with the clothes, he’s still on the floor petting Starfire and whispering to himself.

“Your mom is so beautiful, I wish I never fucked things up.. I miss her every day. I know I ruined her but I could fix it.. make it up.. god..”

Y/n clears her throat and Bakugou sits up quickly startling Starfire who scampers off.

“You can sleep in the guest room. You’re in no condition to drive or walk.“

Bakugou stands up, keeping the blanket tight around him.

“Okay,” he agrees and walks to where the guest room was, he loved this apartment, remembered the day the two moved in like it was yesterday. He opens the door and it looks different. Y/n’s things are in here.

“Wrong door.” Y/n says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Bakugou turns and opens their old bedroom. The guest room furniture was now in here.

“Why?” He asks and looks at her.

“Couldn’t stand to be in there.” She looks away.

He doesn’t say anything else as he goes into the room.

“Oh. Here.” She grabs his clothes from the kitchen counter and hands them to him.

“Thanks Y/n.” He smiles, his head feels gross, he needs to lay down.

“Yeah. Well good night.”

She walks into her bedroom and closes the door, she puts her back against it and slides down it, hands running through her hair.

Y/n lets herself cry, she sniffles as she wipes her tears on the black cardigan. It’s not fair she tells herself that right as she’s fully put back together he comes in here and fucks it all up, it’s not fair that he can ruin her own self image of herself and run back to her like it meant nothing.

She takes her sweater off and puts on a big t shirt and crawls into bed. Within a few minutes there’s a knock at the door and Bakugou peeks his head in.

“Y/n?” He says “I love you.” He finishes.

Her eyes flick to him and she jumps out of bed, the door flying open to see his full body

“No. No. No. No.” she picks up a pillow and starts to hit him with it, all the rage she had built up exploding out.

“You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to come here and ruin my life over again like you did already! You don’t get to make me believe that we could be something again when you already proved that I was nothing! You made me feel like I was nothing! Don’t you understand that you’re holding yourself back from finding someone you actually love?! I was barely surviving after you left! It’s not fair!” She screams at him, tears rolling down her cheeks like the storm that rages outside.

Her face is red and warm and her body feels like she’s laying on hot coals. Bakugou gently grabs her and pulls her into a hug, she can faintly smell the cologne he always used, the one she still kept in her bathroom. She can smell the beer on him as well. She breaks down in his arms, she can barely hold herself up as he strokes her back and holds her.

“Shhh, I got you. It’s okay.” He whispers and pulls her to the bed, he lays down with her on his chest. He keeps a tight hold.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He whispers over and over.

They fall asleep like that. When the sun comes up and shines in their eyes, they lay in the aftermath of the storm. Bakugou wakes up first like he always did. Y/n isn’t far behind when she feels gentle kisses on her forehead.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” He whispers

“Hi.” She muttered and closes her eyes once again.

Maybe they didn’t have to be what they were before, maybe they could be something better.

Bakugou gently sits up and holds her.

“I am sorry Y/n.. and I do miss you. Just please.. one shot..”

Y/n takes a deep inhale of the cologne that sticks to his body. She slowly nods.

“Okay.. one shot, that’s all you get.”

“That’s all I need. I won’t fuck up again. I promise.”

[pshcomforts]

➳ astronomy | psh.

non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader

“a tale old as time, young love don’t last for life”

synopsis: you and sunghoon broke up and ended on good terms, but you never expected to see him move on so quickly, especially on your last day of work.

warnings/content: written in third pov. pure and heavy angst. no happy ending, i’m sorry. no fluff. not proofread and cursing!

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 5.5k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: astronomy by conan gray

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:30 ─────|────────────── 3:23

“so we’re done then?”

“yeah.. uhm, we’re done..” sunghoon confirmed. “i’m sorry it had to be this way.”

“it’s okay, hoon.. we’ve both got different things going on right now. we should focus on ourselves.” y/n said with a shaky voice, hands begging to be in his warm hold again. her face lit up with a soft and reassuring smile, in hopes that he wouldn’t see through her.

he did though.

after knowing the one who he thought was her soulmate, he could read her body language and understand what she felt through observation.

“you know, i wished we never had to go through this…” hoon’s breath hitched as he swallowed back another sob. his eyes teared up at the thought of them not together again. face pale as he glanced up to see her smile gently fading away with his words.

she bit her lip and sniffled — “yeah i know.. i wish we never did either. maybe in another universe?”

the word ‘universe’ simply tore the two apart. how could they have been a match made, and yet not make it through this fallout? their eyes locked with each others, lingering to stay as their relationship began to crumble upon the quiet goodbyes in the unspoken atmosphere.

“yeah, another universe.” sunghoon affirmed, taking in a harsh gulp at the aching feel of coming to terms with harsh reality.

“goodbye, sunghoon..,” y/n softly uttered as she held onto his face for a last look. “you’ll always hold a special place.”

hoon felt the threatening tears fall down his cheeks, heart stopping at the words he thought he’d never hear. “you always will too..,” — was all he could respond back with as the chest pain worsened.

with the last few words said to each other, y/n felt the urge to leave; everything in her screaming to get out before she’d sob in his arms and never want to let go.

her heart ached to be near him, just to be in the embracing comfort of her one and only.., just one last time before she could have closure.

she didn’t though.

her body frame was out of the door as soon as she slipped through his fingers. every part in her body begged to go back but no, she couldn’t. they would’ve been in worst conditions if they had stayed together.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

months had passed since the couple broke up. long and tiring months.

many attempts to get over the other had become a daily routine. little habits were made, yet no progression had occurred.

sunghoon and y/n still loved each other. of course they did, they just kept a long distance — only hearing about one another through their friends who were dating each other.

“so have you heard from ji-woo about y/n?” hoon hesitantly asked his friend, jake.

in return, he received an eye roll and a head shake. “it’s always y/n this and y/n that. when are you gonna get over her?” the aussie boy said, slightly chuckling as he patted hoon’s shoulders.

“i just.. miss her.” he sheepishly admitted with blushing ears.

“we know, sunghoon. that’s why i’m setting you up on a date with someone tomorrow,” their other friend — jay chimed in with a beaming smile.

sunghoon’s body tensed at his words. “date? uhm i don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“oh come on hoon! you need to go out and have fun, you can’t always be stuck up on y/n. she’s probably moved on quicker than you have.” jay said with a playful scoff.

the younger sent a scowling look at him. jake laughed at the two — “maybe the date will help, hoon?”

sunghoon kept his eyes down before giving in and agreeing to the date.

jake smiled before quickly shoving his hands into his pants, bringing out his phone and texting someone without hoon knowing.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

somewhere along the ways, a loud gasp was heard from y/n’s apartment.

“NO WAY!” y/n heard her friend, ji-woo scream.

“WHAT?” y/n and her other two friends, min-su and dae yelled out together.

“uhm! nothing…,” the girl responded back with a coy smile.

the rest looked at her with wandering eyes before going back to their conversation.

“WAIT! i have to pee, i’ll be back!” y/n yelled, quickly rushing to the bathroom to do her business.

“this girl always needs to go,” min-su snorted with a slight judging voice.

“SHUT UP!” the girl in the bathroom muffled out.

everybody giggled in silence before ji-woo grabbed their attention — “GUYS! look at jake’s text!” she shoved her phone in front of their faces, quickly earning gasps from them.

“he’s going on a date already??” dae questioned in loud thoughts.

“SH! she might hear you!” ji-woo yelled out in return. “you think we should tell her though?”

min-su furiously shook her head. “no! i wouldn’t want to know if heeseung was going out with some other girl.”

the boy slightly gasped — “me too honestly…, i’d be mad if i heard jungwon was moving on.”

jake’s partner nodded her head in agreement. “that’s true, me too with jake but.. she has a right to know though doesn’t she?”

the group exchanged worried glances before hearing the bathroom door unlocked to y/n coming out with a half smile.

“were you guys talking shit or something? why is it so quiet?” she said with an eyebrow raise.

the three friends awkwardly laughed, sharing quiet side eyes before ji-woo broke the silence — “why would we talk shit?”

min-su nodded her head before adding on, “yeah plus we can’t even talk shit with you so close to the bathroom.”

y/n mouth opened in shock before hearing the cackled out laughs and gasps from dae and ji-woo. “fuck you guys too then!” she jokingly replied, rolling her eyes.

“what no! we’d never talk shit about you y/n!” dae defended while still giggling from min-su’s words.

“mhm okay, whatever,” she bitterly said.

the gang continued their giggles for a little longer. “okay guys! that’s enough, let’s watch a movie!” ji-woo announced, hands taking hold of the remote to change the topic.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few days went by after their hangout, and y/n had to go in on her last day of work. she deeply sighed before heading in with her uniform on.

she was there for almost a year at this ice cream place, and she was suddenly being let go of the same time she was still going through a breakup — could it get any worse?

“this is going to be a long day,” the girl softly uttered.

and indeed it was.

as hours passed within her time schedule, y/n felt time go by more slower than usual. when the clock hinted that she was nearing the end of her last shift, she sighed in relief.

cleaning the countertops with all of her energy she had left, the door dinged — signifying that someone had arrived in.

y/n’s eyes glanced up in a swift to greet the customer. but once she did, she felt like her world had come to a stop.

everything froze in place after seeing her ex, sunghoon with some girl wrapping her arms around his.

her heart instantly shattered within seconds of meeting eyes with him. she swallowed down a harsh cry in her throat before shakily saying, “hello, how can i help you today?”

hoon’s eyes softly stayed on her lingering gaze. he knew what he was doing. he knew she worked there.

he just knew.

he looked away in hesitation, pressing his lips into a firm line before turning away to the menu.

“i’ll give you guys a few seconds,” y/n mumbled to the two — watching the pretty girl smile in return and turning to the boy she was on a date with.

she made her way to the back, tears instantly filling her eyes as soon as she was out of their sight.

“fuck,” the heart shattered girl quietly mumbled to herself. closing her eyes, she sighed to herself before realizing her coworker was still in the back.

“you okay, y/n?” she heard her coworker say.

“yeah i’m fine, im just giving them some time to decide.”

after a few minutes, y/n went out to check on them.

“you guys ready to order yet?” she tried to beam with her customer voice.

sunghoon’s eyes quickly went to her and softened. his eyes could say so much that he couldn’t dare to speak of. they were a clear indication that he still loved her.

y/n wanted to linger in his presence, just yearn in the feel that he was finally near her again.

but she didn’t.

she broke eye contact to look at the girl who was ready to order.

‘she’s pretty,’ she thought to herself with a gentle smile. ‘real pretty..,’

“can i get the number four in a regular, please?” she heard the gorgeous girl say.

her chest weirdly tightened at her voice before nodding her head — “of course, what else can i get for you guys?” her eyes trailed up to the boy she used to love with a heavy heart.

“can i get the number twenty one in a regular too?” sunghoon spoke in a soft tone.

there was that weird chest pain in her heart again after hearing his voice. it’d been so long since she heard him say anything, and hearing how he had ordered the exact same ice cream flavor she’d get him after work made her want to breakdown and cry.

it was a coffee flavor, and she always remembered how much he loved coffee flavored things.

y/n softly bit her lips, holding back a smile that wanted to be shown before exhaling a heavy sigh without letting him know.

“okay, will that be all for tonight?” she mumbled, praying for her pained eyes to not be obvious to him as she looked him straight in the eye.

the girl he was on a date with shook her head before looking at hoon. “no that’ll be all, thank you!”

y/n nodded her head before allowing the payment to show on their side. “okay, whenever you’re ready.”

“i’ll get it,” sunghoon uttered out to his date.

just those words had the poor girl behind the counter shaking.

he was paying. he always did.

she remembered that about him because he always offered when they were together.

“really??” the girl gasped. “you’re such a gentleman! jay was so right about you!”

in an instant second, hoon met eyes with y/n. a hint of betrayal and disbelief was displayed in the girl’s facial features before softly rolling her eyes and turning back to the screen.

‘so jay set him up…,’ she said in her own head.

“would you like your receipt?” she mumbled, trying not to sound too bitter in her tone.

if they were still together, he would’ve had a playful grin on his face with how jealous she sounded.

but they weren’t.

so sunghoon only awkwardly nodded before replying — “yes please.”

she printed out the receipt and reached her hands out. his hand reached out for it as well, but the placing was miscalculated and his hand held onto hers by accident.

her eyes blinked twice at the sudden touch of his fingers on hers. he kept his gaze on her reaction but she didn’t bother to look up at him. their hearts were pounding like crazy.

if anything, they were practically beating at the same time. it was like they were working together in harmony again.

however, when y/n let her eyes go to the clueless girl beside him, she immediately retracted her hands with a fake smile.

“here’s your receipt, we’ll get that out for you.” she turned away before she could hear their ‘thank yous’ and left near where her coworker was.

“i’ll do the coffee one,” y/n mumbled to her, adding in different toppings left and right.

as she worked on the ice cream, she heard the girl sunghoon was on a date with yell — “it’s so cool how they do that! isn’t it cool, hoonie?”

y/n’s hands froze. the chopping sounds from her ice cream scoopers no longer being heard as she tried not to show how hurt she was.

“you okay?” the coworker softly uttered to her.

“hm? oh yeah, just a muscle cramp.” she awkwardly replied, laughing it off with a hand shake before returning back to the frozen ice cream.

“oh, sorry, i’m only comfortable with hearing my close friends and family call me that.” the girl heard sunghoon stiffly respond in his most sincere tone.

y/n’s lips tried not to automatically curl into a smile with his rejection. she was never one to hate the girl, but truthfully, hearing him decline the name call was satisfying in her heart. she tried to not let her reaction show though, knowing that he’d occasionally glance at her time to time without being obvious.

when she started to top off the ice cream rolls with whipped cream and other toppings, a sudden song had boomed out throughout the building — causing her to widen her eyes.

‘glimpse of us’ by joji started to play at the right time.

she let out a soft sigh as the song continued out. “what great timing, really.” her weakened voice mumbled, shaking her head before announcing that their ice creams were ready.

y/n saw sunghoon’s tall figure stand up and walk to where she was. her heart was stupidly racing just at how close he was striding towards her.

“here you go, enjoy!” she quickly beamed with her high pitched voice, as if he was just a usual customer.

her back faced him to hide her sickened expression when she had sudden memories flooding in.

quick flashbacks of when they’d go on little adventurous dates popped in, and she was then reminded of when she’d stand up to go get their food but his hands wouldn’t let go of hers, so they’d just both go up together.

his hands couldn’t ever leave hers wherever they went. public display wasn’t a thing for him, but her hands always remained to be what he loved to be in contact with.

y/n’s brows scrunched together at the memory of him being clingy, watching how he couldn’t find it in himself to hold the new girl’s hands.

she felt tears spark at the rim of her eyes, threatening to take its fall as she was vividly reminded how happy she was with him.

the reason as to why they broke up was gone now.

someone who was once his gorgeous girl just wanted to be in that position of his date, to be sitting so close to him in that table and hear him talk about his life.

she wanted that.

she missed that.

she missed him.

“fuck this song is not helping..” y/n mumbled to herself, sniffling hard to get a hold of herself as the song was halfway through.

it loudly echoed through every corner of the place. she knew the lyrics would linger in his ears, possibly remind him about her too.

it was rest assured that he was most likely getting flashbacks just as much as she was, because she saw it in his eyes — his eyes that she missed staring into.

the girl felt her chest tighten as the heartbeats became more rapid. “fuck this, i’m gonna go take out the trash.” she grabbed the trash bin that had been gathered a few hours ago, and told her coworker what she was gonna do.

a heavy sigh heaved out of her once she realized that she was gonna have to walk pass the two who were seemingly enjoying the date so far.

she shook her head before going out and attempting to zoom pass them. as she did so, she felt his eyes on her.

sunghoon stared deeply at her as if he didn’t care if his date saw or not.

he knew that taking the trash out was dangerous. he knew because he remembered how she always told him the little scary stories of taking the trash out after her shifts — how excited she’d be to share her work stories to her partner.

the male would always scold her though, that she was stupid for going out alone because he just wanted her safe.

hoon wanted to stand up.

he just wanted to do something to ensure that the girl he could no longer protect would be safe within the few minutes she’d be gone.

but the voice of his blind date had snapped him out of it.

“is everything okay, sunghoon?” she asked, still clueless to the obvious tension between the cashier and her date.

“yeah no, i’m fine. is it good?” he excused, nodding his head to her ice cream.

“mhm!” she sweetly beamed — “wanna try it?”

sunghoon softly chuckled to pass away the awkwardness.

“no it’s okay, i’m sure it’s delicious.” he rejected with a light smile.

“you’ve been a little tense though. you wanna get out of here?” he heard the girl suggest.

his mouth opened into a shape of an ‘o’ as he truthfully just wanted to go home by himself. his eyes never met with hers, though still nodding and saying, “sure, we can go.”

sunghoon and the girl he was on a date with left out of the door, not forgetting to move the chairs back in its rightful place.

as they walked out, the loud rolling of the trash bin could be heard — hinting that y/n was nearby.

as soon as he turned his head to the other side, she was right there — returning with the trash bin in one hand.

“have a great day!” she mindlessly said to them, pressing her lips into a forced smile before entering back in.

the tall boy was slightly confused. he thought there’d be more tension, more yearning to look at each other again but that was it.

she said her greeting to them and was gone before he could long for her.

“thank you,” he heard his date say.

hoon was taken aback for a second before realizing it was best to just leave it as is. he gestured his date to the bus station, leaving y/n fully alone for the night.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as the long lasting minutes of y/n’s shift finally finished, she closed up the store with her coworker.

the entire time she cleaned, she forgot it had been her last day with how the sudden appearance of her ex busied her mind. she never expected him to enter in, and to see him with someone else was almost like a stab in the back.

“get home safe, y/n! can’t believe this was my last day with you, i’ll miss you so much.” her coworker said with a slight frown.

“mhm you too! i’ll miss you too!!” the girl responded back.

she bid her coworker goodbye before turning back to the doors and locking them.

“finally..,” she mumbled with her eyes closed.

y/n let her body drag itself down onto the ground, hands reaching over to her face to cover herself as she started to breakdown.

being let go and encountering an ex on a date at her workplace was definitely something she was not expecting.

everything came crumbling down once the poor girl had the reminder of it being her last day from her coworker. tears streamed down her face as her vision slowly went into a blur.

y/n harshly sniffled, eyes still covered as she broke down even harder.

she knew it was stupid to cry in public.

and she knew it was especially dangerous since it was dark, and had to wait for the bus. she knew but at this point, what even mattered?

the girl gave a sigh out once she realized what she was doing. “come on y/n, don’t let it get to you.” she mumbled under her breath, hoping that nobody would come across the sobbing young adult in front of a closed store.

“you wanna talk about it?” a voice suddenly aired out.

a familiar voice at that.

her eyes widened, and she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she blinked a few more times before trailing her eyes up at the tall figure in front of her.

“sunghoon??” she questioned with a dry throat and watery eyes. the handsome boy gave a light chuckle that made her quickly stand up to her feet. “what are you doing here?”

“you’re still being unsafe, aren’t you?” hoon mindlessly said with a smile on his face.

y/n took a gulp, avoiding eye contact as she remained a little unsure on how to approach this situation. “why are you here hoon?” she asked, tone becoming a little more cold this time.

✩ ‘you said distance brings fondness but guess not with us’ ✩

he felt his heart stop at the nickname. it had been so long since he heard her call him that.

his eyes looked glassy as he attempted a smile. “just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” the boy faintly mumbled, causing y/n to barely process his words.

“you should go home.”

her heart was heavy with burden as she yearned to hear that he wanted to keep her safe, but she wasn’t his to worry about anymore.

sunghoon chuckled, scratching the back of his nape as he responded, “i can’t knowing that you’re out here alone.”

y/n nodded her head — “don’t you have a date to get back to?”

the petty tone was made clear in her voice even though she tried to sound unfazed.

the male smiled at her words, relieved to know that she definitely still had something for him.

“i took her home and made sure she got safe, but i needed to make sure that you got home safe too.”

she didn’t say anything as she only sniffled and nodded her head, wiping away the few tears she had before looking at him.

“well i’m fine so, you can go. thanks.”

y/n attempted to leave, not wanting to deal with such a mess anymore, only to be held back by his hand gripping onto her forearm. her body turned back towards him, a little more closer now as his hold caused her to slightly tumble.

“what, sunghoon?” she spoke with cold eyes.

hoon’s gaze never changed.

they remained soft with how he couldn’t reflect the cold shoulder she was trying to display. “let me walk you home,” he said while letting his grip go gentle.

y/n gulped at how his facial expression were so stern yet soft. her mind was saying no, but her heart was begging for another interaction.

“fine..,” she uttered in defeat.

the boy couldn’t help the coil in his lips that made him smile, and she noticed. she watched him try to hide away his precious grin that she loved when they were together.

as they walked along the street, their hands constantly bumped against each others, leaving little lingering touches with how their fingers just wanted to dangle together.

sunghoon wished to intertwine his hands with hers and keep their hands deep in his pockets, because that was what he used to do.

on cold days like these, he’d always shove their hands together in his jackets — engulfing her cold fingertips while using the weather as an excuse just to have some form of physical touch.

hoon remembered each time they did that on their walks, and y/n did too. they both did, and they both wanted to hands again.

they were so close too.

the boy’s hands almost reached for hers, which were only centimeters apart.

but y/n pulled away, shoving her own hands into her comfy pockets, unbeknownst that he was gonna attempt such a thing.

his lips pressed into a firm line before putting his own hands into his jacket as well to keep them warm.

“so.. you got laid off?” sunghoon awkwardly spoke, trying to break the silence.

his once lover turned to him with a slight head nod, not bothering to remark on how rude he was sounding in a playful way — because that was what they always did, tease each other.

“yep… today was my last day,” she muttered.

quiet sniffles were heard from her side as she got reminded of being let go once again. the girl bit her lips in hopes that he didn’t hear anything, or would possibly try and ignore it. but he heard it.

of course he would.

he always made sure he knew every small detail about her, and knowing her tone and demeanor through the voice cracks were just the tip of it. the small sniffles he picked up on just ensured that she wasn’t okay, and it broke his heart.

“i’m sorry,” hoon mumbled back.

“it’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry.” she said, softly laughing at his choice of words. “how was your date?”

he turned his head to her with an eyebrow raise.

in return, she rolled her eyes before nudging her elbow with his shoulder.

“oh come on, you know i had to ask that. that’s the biggest highlight of today.”

sunghoon smiled as he saw her lighten up a little more. “not sure if i should tell you,” he softly said with a teasing tone.

“oh please hoon, oh sorry.. sunghoon,” y/n paused for a second in shame.

continuing on as if nothing happened, she added — “you seemed like you had fun.”

the two were now approaching closer to her apartment complex as their topic remained out in the air.

“you want me to be honest?”

she felt the pulse of her heartbeats hitting her hand as her chest physically tightened again.

long story short, no, she didn’t want to.

she didn’t want to hear how well he was doing without her because how could he move on so quickly?

“she doesn’t compare to you,” her favorite boy quickly confessed with a pant.

y/n felt like her heart had dropped and then rapidly pick up once she got a hold of his words.

“what?” she mumbled under her breath.

“i can’t believe i’m admitting this,” hoon said with a slight chuckle, scratching the nape of his neck as he turned to face her. “i only went out with her because jay wanted me to. he was sick and tired of seeing me mope around with the loss of you.”

the girl tried to laugh the awkward confession off as she replied, “what..? you were moping around because of me?”

her hand reached to hit his arm almost instinctively before she stopped herself — “oh, sorry.. that would’ve been awkward.”

sunghoon grinned. “it’s okay, y/n…,”

they were now in front of her apartment complex, both reaching to a stop before facing each other.

“you know..,” he stopped his words to look at her deeply in the eyes. “i still look for you in every person.”

her heart stopped and tightened again at his sudden confession. her eyes instantly watered with tears as it took everything in her to hold back another breakdown.

“don’t..”

“what?” his face moved in a little closer to hers.

“don’t make me fall in love with you again.”

she turned her gaze away, mouth shaking as tears fell out without even realizing.

“y/n..,” sunghoon gently called, hands now reaching for hers distinctively.

he didn’t care if they were exes anymore. he just wanted to feel some kind of touch from her.

his hand attempted to hold hers but in seconds, she pulled herself into a hug with him instead.

her arms wrapped around his body, tightening with every second she was losing him.

“gorgeous?” he called again.

y/n missed hearing him call her that, but all she could do was shake her head on his chest.

his heart sank at the acknowledgment that this hug was what she needed all day.

it was what she longed for after exhausting hours.

knowing that she usually wasn’t the biggest person for physical touch, he softened at how much she simply melted in his arms.

the tall male wasn’t one to do public display, but for her? he was okay with it.

if she needed a hug, he was still willing to give one even if they were no longer together.

“you’re okay y/n, i’m here.” hoon softly uttered in her ear.

and it was like she was hit with a big reality check.

her eyes widened, realizing that she had given in for a hug. she quickly pushed herself off of him, breath a little shaky as she watched him only give a faint smile.

“i’m sorry sunghoon, i shouldn’t have hugged you. that was out of line, especially since we’re not together anymore. i just.., i just needed a hug but it’s okay.”

“y/n-“

“we can’t.”

the boy gave a half smile before approaching closer. his hand met her cold cheeks, giving gentle rubs with his thumb as he reassuringly said, “i know.” his eyes had now been the one to be sparked with tears. “which is why i’m letting you go now.”

y/n broke down right there.

the heart shattering truth that they both had to come to terms with hit them like a train wreck.

once she let the tears fall down her cheeks, sunghoon did too.

this had been one of the first few times she’s witnessed hoon break down and cry in their years together. the wet tears rapidly streamed down as he remained his best to look strong.

“be more safe from now on since i won’t be there anymore.” he muttered with a trembling voice.

the girl harshly bit her lips as his hand still remained on her cheek. he hated that he was the reason she was crying, but there couldn’t be any other way.

“i always thought you were the one and even now, i still do, so i think we shouldn’t talk until we both know we can handle seeing each other happy without the other.” he added in.

sunghoon attempted to keep a smile on his face, but couldn’t with how heart wrenching y/n had looked.

her eyes and nose were red, and her lips were trembling with fear.

“hoon, please…”

the name call shattered his heart into a million pieces.

it was the last time he was ever gonna hear her call him that, and he tried to savor it but he couldn’t. his heart was barely beating with how much pain was being endured.

“you’re right, but how could i ever get over someone like you? someone who was my soulmate?” y/n confessed with a weakened smile.

usually, he’d tease with how the girl he loved just admitted that he was her soulmate. but not this time.

he couldn’t.

the word ‘soulmate’ had him drop more tears in front of her.

he heard his pretty girl hiccup breaths of air in as her sobs slowly got louder.

“you were my everything, sunghoon.” y/n whispered, hands reaching up to hold the one that held onto her cheek.

his face was now pale as he plastered a soft grin that laced reassurance. “another universe right?” he spoke with a voice crack.

“right..,” the girl affirmed.

“i’ll be waiting for you then..,” hoon said with a hopeful smile.

he sniffled again before letting more tears fall, approaching closer to her facial features while whispering, “my pretty girl.”

✩ ‘it’s time to go’ ✩

he was handsome, of course he was.

he was drop dead handsome and y/n wanted to admire him, knowing that that’d possibly be the last time she’d ever see him again.

sunghoon moved closer to place a longing kiss on her forehead, lips trembling as she felt the running tears softly wet her own cheeks.

he pulled away, wishing he could linger just a little longer in her presence with eyes that were still filled with unsaid words.

unsaid words that she knew what he couldn’t say aloud.

the male let a small grin play on his lips before attempting to pull away his hand that still remained on her cheek — only to be held back by y/n’s grip. her hold tightened as her eyes screwed shut.

she didn’t want to let go. she wasn’t ready and she knew he wasn’t either.

but the odds were never in their favor.

so sunghoon let his hands slip out of her fingers as she instantly loosened the hold right after.

he gave another soft, reassuring smile before nodding — not wanting to say another word that could crack out weeping goodbyes.

✩ ‘you can’t force the stars to align when they’ve already died’ ✩

and that was it.

their closure was given, and even if they didn’t want to break up, it was written in the stars that they had to.

right person, wrong timing.

their timing could never be right with each other, and they both knew that. it wouldn’t have worked out no matter how hard they tried.

it’s astronomy after all, they’re two worlds apart.

✩ ‘the only mistake that we didn’t make was run’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[mattysketchup]

do you even love me?

a/n: yes i finally decided to sit down and actually write something while blasting conan gray 😍😍 anyways i got a little smth for y'all, it is angst so yeah lmk if you want a part two to this !

warnings: some swearing, matt is lowk a dick, angst, use of pet names and y/n !

(masterlist)

➽──────────────❥

as you were typing aggressively on the computer in front of you, you hear a familiar voice from behind you. "babe" matt whined. "when are you coming back to cuddle" you turned around to see matt laying on the bed with a bored expression. "just a second matt, i have to finish writing this email" you sigh. matt knew you had a lot on your plate with work and school, but right now he didnt care. "can you please come cuddle for a bit?" he complained from the lack of touch. "just give me five more minutes babe" you say, turning in your seat to work on the unfinished email in front of you. "you said that ten minutes ago baby." he stated, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "all you've been doing is work and school, i feel like you never make time for me." you are now fully turned around in your seat, a look of utter confusion painted on your face.

"excuse me? matt, im really trying here." you say, trying not to start any arguments. "well, i would sure like it if you tried in our relationship." he mumbles, knowing he sounded like a jerk. "matt, i dont think you understand" you began. "i have to deal with my family, i have work, i have school and so much more. you just get to fuck around with your brothers for a living." the boy who was once laying on the bed is now perched up on the edge, arguing with you.

"y/n, my job is serious. there is so much work that goes into it and you just dont understand. you'll never understand." he says. you are so tired and burnt out that you dont even care to fight back, you simply just try to reason with him. "matt i-" you begin but the brunette cuts you off. "y'know, it's funny. i try so hard and care so much for our relationship but you just try to hide us away like you hate me. have you even told your parents were dating?" he spits. "matt, i dont think you-" you start, but once again are cut off by matt. "i bet you haven't. do you even love me?" you pause for a moment, staring at the man in front of you.

"matt, this isn't worth fighting over." you say, trying to deescalate the situation. "are you sure? because i truly cant think of the last time you actually did something nice for me." matt says. "matt, are you being serious?" you ask, hoping he knows how hard you are really trying. "yeah, i am." he says, you both are now standing, trying to reason with one another. "then i dont think this is gonna work." you say. you know you dont mean it, but do you? this argument had come up maybe six times in the last week, and you've grown tired of it.

"w-what? are you breaking up with me?" he asks, in complete disbelief. "i-i dont know matt." you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "answer the damn question y/n!" he yells. the argument, something that was a small thing, has now become a full on fight between the two. "i- no! i just- i-" you stutter, grabbing your computer and shoving it into your bag. "can we talk about this later?" he grabs your wrist, pulling you over to him. "no. we're gonna talk about this now." you try to compose yourself in front of him so you don't break down into tears on his bedroom floor. "matt let go of me!" you say, loud enough to gather the attention of the others in the house. you suddenly hear a small knock at the door.

"y'all good in there?" you hear chris say from outside the room. you and matt are quiet, both awkwardly staring at the floor. chris cracks the door open, peeking in. "yeah. we're good." you finally say. "i should go." you gather all your stuff and walk out, saying a quick 'bye' to chris as you walk out of the house. matt can't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing he might've gone a little far with the argument. he accepts the fact that you're obviously pissed, so he decides to back off and give you space before texting or calling you.

➽──────────────❥

a/n: hii so this is like my first angst fic so PLEASE don't be a silent reader, feedback is much appreciated! thanks for reading!

blessings and riches, tessa:)

[mosaickiwi]

Someone In Between; Something Intertwined

Your babyboi Rendacted (from @14dayswithyou) struggles to be himself in your new-ish relationship. Gender neutral reader c:

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

You haphazardly pushed a cart full of returned books across the library. It'd been such a long day. Elanor had called in sick, so on top of desk duty, both the morning and afternoon story times fell on you. The kids were well behaved—as well behaved as elementary schoolers could be, anyway—but by the time it finished you were at your limit. The only solace was that today was Friday, so you had the whole weekend to spend at your boyfriend's apartment. A smile bloomed on your face and you couldn't help but push the cart a little faster as you thought about them, surely waiting outside already. 

Ren, your tall, clingy, dark-haired-at-the-roots boyfriend. It'd been 5 months since you officially started dating, and 4 months since he'd been convinced to let go of the Haruko persona. It was agonizingly slow progress, you still didn't know him well—he came off a bit neutral sometimes, unsure how to act around you before reverting to Haruko or a blank slate to mirror you. But you were happy that small parts of the real him managed to peek through over the months, no matter how much time it took. And it was taking a long time.

As you opened the overflow room, you checked the clock on the wall. It was barely 4 minutes until the end of your shift. The cart bumped over the threshold when you pushed it in and locked the door. Once that was taken care of, you did a quick look over the computer and study areas, picking up scrap papers and trash to put in the bin before heading to the break room, then your desk to grab all your things. 

You took a peek in Conan's office to bid him goodbye. "I'll see you next week! Enjoy your weekend," you said with a cheery voice and walked towards the entrance.

"You too!" he called after you. 

The doors flew open and you practically skipped with relief out into the cool autumn air. You spotted Ren leaning against the brick of the building, dressed in their now-usual style of black on black on more black. His hair was partially tied up in a ponytail, most of it still a pastel pink that fell over his shoulders. From the low collar on his shirt, you could see he'd covered his tattoos with makeup, but a few of his piercings were in. He was trying, and that meant so much to you. His ocean blue eyes were focused on the phone in his hand, so he didn't notice you at first.

"Ren!" You sang out their name and bounced over to them. 

He looked up in surprise before quickly smiling. "I was just texting you," he said and put his phone in his pocket. "Hey, Angel."

"Hiiii," you said as you grabbed his hand, taking gleeful notice of the light blush forming on his cheeks as your fingers laced together. At first you used to think it was only his Haruko persona when he blushed at any contact—but it turned out they really liked holding hands. It was the first thing you learned to keep in mind about the real him. So you made sure to do it as often as possible. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's only 5:01."

"And I'm sure you got here much earlier," you teased him, earning his embarrassed agreement when he flushed a deeper pink.

"Just 20 minutes," Ren mumbled and changed the subject. "Did y'want to stop anywhere? We don't have to go straight to my apartment."

"Nope! Work's got me feeling lazy. I'm all yours for the rest of the night." With that, you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

He kissed you back on the lips, his snake bites catching the light as he smiled. He didn't even try to hide how happy he was. "Good."

~

An hour later, you were sitting on his couch eating pizza, a horror movie on low in the background while you chatted. You'd gotten half the pizza with your favorite toppings and—with a lot of stubborn encouragement on your part—Ren had gotten what were supposed to be his favorites. There was some overlap with a few of them, but he swore up and down they were things he liked. 

"L-Lots of people like pepperoni," he insisted. "You can't be suspicious of that one. It's basic."

"You got more than pepperoni to be suspicious about. But, true. I'll allow it," you conceded and munched away at the last of your pizza slice.

"Besides, I'm not that picky about food."

You swallowed, thinking about the age old debate about pizza toppings. "Pineapple on pizza?" Right on cue, the next victim in the movie shrieked in bloody terror.

"I'd eat it," he said after a moment of thought.

"Oh. Anchovies?" The screams continued.

He was a little more confident on this one. "Yup." 

"What about the really weird toppings?" you asked. You inwardly grimaced as you vaguely remembered a weird picture Moth had sent.. "Like… corn and chocolate?" 

Ren made a face between confused and disgusted. "Together? On pizza? People eat that?"

"Maybe. Probably," you said and shrugged. You grabbed a napkin from the coffee table and wiped your hands, then stood to throw away your paper plate. "People eat plenty of weirder things."

He paused the movie and quickly followed you into the kitchen with his own plate; he'd finished eating a little bit before you. As he trailed you to the trash can, then the sink, he spoke honestly, "It sounds really… out there. I don't think I'd eat it."

"Hmm," you said as you pumped the soap dispenser. You weren't sure if his answer would change if you said you'd eat it—not that you would, ew—but it was nice for him to voice his own opinions without trying to hear yours first.

You felt him trap you against the counter and rest his chin on your head. His arms came around you, but he only began washing his own hands as you were doing. It was an oddly comforting position.

An easy silence fell over the two of you, only broken by the rush of water from the tap. Eventually, the water stopped and he grabbed a paper towel, quickly drying his hands. You expected him to move, but instead he grabbed another towel and started drying your hands for you. He seemed content, even humming quietly to himself. So you simply watched. His rough fingers were steady as he delicately went over every inch of your hands until they were completely dry. He wasn't even half as thorough with himself; it was cute.

"You're really touchy," you innocently blurted out.

Ren suddenly let go, as if he'd been burned. "S-Sorry, Angel. I should've asked—" He quickly backed off, putting distance between you two and fiddling with his sleeves.

You realized your mistake and turned around, shaking your head in apology. Without the persona as a barrier, he was more on edge about your reactions sometimes. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. Here—hand, please," you demanded and held out your own to him. He cautiously took it and you smiled, closing the space to pull him into a hug. "See? No harm done. Touchy is good. Wonderful, even."

Despite the blush on his face, he seemed relieved. "Really?"

"Almost as wonderful as corn and chocolate pizza," you teased.

He laughed for a moment before squeezing you against his chest. "There's no way you'd actually eat that," he mumbled above you and got even quieter. "I'm so sorry, Angel. 'M afraid you'll push me away one day."

His arms felt so nice wrapped around you, but his words broke your heart. "I'd never do that. I care about you, Ren. Okay?" you whispered into his shirt. Your fingers curled tightly into the fabric and you pressed on. "Not Haruko, not anyone else." His real name slipped out in a quiet whisper. "You."

A rather stressful sigh left him and he started rambling, "I'm trying my best. And I get what you mean, but it's hard t’believe you'd want me as I am. I'm less than perfect for you. Why would you want that?"

"I don't need or want 'perfect' like I'm a test you studied for," you huffed in frustration and looked up at them, shocked to find hurt and loneliness in their gaze. "I'm not mad at you!" you immediately sought to reassure him. "But I want to accept you like you've accepted me, warts and all. I'm not perfect either."

"Except that you are per—" he opened his mouth to protest, but the way your eyes narrowed had him choosing his final word carefully. "Are… person?" He pulled away to fiddle with the hem of his sleeve. "I just can’t trust you’d like me when I haven’t been myself that often. You don’t know me that well.” His bangs covered his eyes as he lowered his head and looked away.

“I like the parts I’ve seen,” you stubbornly declared and crossed your arms, rapidly firing off the list you kept in your head. “You sleep like a corpse, you’re a tease and a flirt—even worse in bed. You won’t give anyone the time of day but me, you like your coffee black but somehow have a ridiculous sweet tooth.”

“Angel.” They tried to get your attention, but you didn’t hear them. 

“Little things make you happy even though you’re a pessimist, a drama queen when you want to get your way, a smug, petty brat on top of that, a total fucking geek if I’m being honest—sometimes you get really excited and babble about tech I don’t understand—and the very first thing I learned—”

“Angel,” he interrupted a little louder with a touch on your shoulder and you snapped out of it. Gentle as could be, he pried your fingers away from your arm. You didn’t realize you were practically digging your nails into your skin from how riled up you were. “Okay,” he continued in a low voice, a tinge of awkwardness to it. “You know me, in some ways.”

You smiled up at him, just as self-conscious about your momentary rant. “You really, really like holding hands, too,” you quietly pointed out and wiggled your fingers in his grip. He hadn’t let go, not that you wanted him to.

“I didn’t think there was so much of me—the real me—that you cared enough to notice,” he said, idly tracing over your fingertips. The gentle touch comforted you.

“It’s all important to me. And it made me so excited when I could see those little parts of you," you admitted with a nervous laugh. “This is embarrassing, but I'd try to write down all the things I'd learn when I got home so I wouldn’t forget. But then I’d scribble and tear up the papers—I’d think to myself like ‘that’s creepy, stop it you weirdo.’ Isn’t it though? Taking notes on someone is a bit much.”

Ren seemed to piece something together in his mind before answering confidently, “Not at all, in fact it’s really cute. Who's studying for who, here?”

Heat flushed your cheeks and you blew out a silent breath from pursed lips. “I wasn’t studying. I was happy that you were being yourself! There are so many quirks or habits you don't realize that just make me fall more in… love… with you…?” You trailed off, eyes widening in tandem with theirs as you both processed what you'd just said.

The confused look on his face had you positive that his brain was malfunctioning. At least yours certainly was. “Ah—In love? Like you love me?” he asked in disbelief and repeated himself. "You love me?"

You nodded robotically, wanting to melt into the marble floor. You did love him. And all the little pieces that shined through the cracks in his act. You loved getting to know him, good and bad, bratty or sweet. Confessing to note taking already had you flustered, yet here you were, continuing to run your mouth and put it all out there. “Yeah... I love you,” you managed to say in spite of yourself.

He lifted you off the ground by your waist, drawing a weird squeaking noise you had surely never made before out of you. He didn't seem bothered as he sat you down on the counter and tenderly kissed your forehead. “I love you, Angel. More than anything,” he breathed out against your skin then pulled back. “I really love you.” His hand brushed stray hairs away from your face before he was cupping your cheek, staring at you for a long while with a shamelessly adoring smile. 

Sirens started blaring in your head the longer nothing happened, so you quietly asked, “Can you kiss me before more embarrassing stuff comes out my mouth?”

“Ahh, um, I’m kind of—overstimulated? Overwhelmed? I never thought I'd hear y'say you love me," he confessed with giddiness. "I can’t decide between teasing you or crying from happiness."

“If you tease me right now I’m going to be the one crying."

That got him to choose. Not a moment sooner, he finally kissed you. The sirens in your head quieted down, only to be replaced by butterflies in your stomach as your eyes closed. He was just as affectionate as he always was, but you could tell he had trouble holding his emotions back from the way his hand gripped your thigh. There was a trembling excitement to the gentle kisses he gave. Ren was clearly on cloud nine. His lips drew a feather light trail from the corner of your mouth up to your ear, barely tickling you as he lingered.

“Angel,” he whispered softly as his thumb traced circles on your leg.

You tilted your head to look at him, feeling pure bliss from his affection. “Hmm?”

“Don’t tear up your study notes next time. ‘Wanna read ‘em.”

“Noo!"

[kaciebello]

Few bucks and some ducks.

Masterlist Money mail ☼ Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (fem) Summary: Posh kids on a farm  Warnings: no use of y/n Authors note: Haiya! Can't say I like this one. Oh well. word count: 1k Song: Greek God - Conan Gray

Farms are unknown territory for teens. Well, at least for our group. When you grow up in rich wizarding families, nobody expects you to know how to feed the bigs or that cows have best friends. None of them have ever been on a farm, much less work on it. However, when a post-it was hung in the corner store where Lorenzo works at, saying help on a farm needed willing to pay 10 pounds a day, the teens jumped on to the opportunity like no other. Their goal is always more reachable when actually working. They all showed up at the farmer's door. 7 in the morning sharp. Now, the farmer didn't really know what to do with them first. While he was grateful for the help, how much work can six posh kids really work? He swears one of the kids is wearing an Armani suit.

He made sure to give them easy work. The kind he could do, but was too lazy too. The girl and Lorenzo were sent to paint the fence, from brown colour to, well, different shades of brown. Draco and Blaise were sent to get chicken eggs and the two Theo's were to wash the cows. Have any of the kids done any of these jobs? Absolutely not, but they are wizards, how hard can it be?

It turns out to be very hard when the only job you've ever done was run errands for your papá. Each of them looked like a tornado had passed twice over. The kids sat exhausted around a picnic table. Mrs. Farmer prepared sandwiches and homemade lemonade for them. They were eating in silence, not a peep from them.  Draco looked around all of them. He knew someone needed to bring the mood up. Sacrificing his friend was the best way.

“so, Blaise was courted by a chicken,” Draco says not even looking up from his food, almost perfecting the thousand-mile stare. Blaise slams his hand onto the table and turns to his friend.

“I was not!” he argues back, but with the very visible chicken feather in his hair, it was very hard to believe him. Draco just continuously nods.

“Chickens don't even do that!” Blaise tries again but his friends just laugh at him. The girl reaches over to plug the feather. Upon seeing it Blaise franticly brushes over his head.  Glaring at Mattheo he decided on his target.

“Why are you laughing, huh? care to tell us why is your shirt all chewed up.” Matteo just glares back, making it into a little staring consent between the two boys. You can hear Theodore's laugh bubble up from his chest and ring all over the patio. 

“ A cow chewed on it!” He laughed even more launder living the memory in his own little head. 

“Like you aren't all wet because one of the cows grabbed the hose from you!” Mattheo fought back, embarrassing his friend in return. Theo stopped laughing a second later.  Looking at all of them, they did not look like they had a great time. The girl and Lorenzo were probably doing the best out of all of them. Although the boys have yet to see Lorenos back and the huge brow print on his white shirt.

The girl giggles as silently as she can, very much amused at her friends' failure. They all turn to look at her studying her without her knowing. Draco glares at her before speaking,

“Is that a brown handprint on your ass?” He asks, efficiently shutting her up. and glare back at him.

“Like that's my fault.” He says in a quiet voice, slightly pointing at Lorenzo whore raises his hands in defence. One of his palms was indeed covered in dried brown paint. being author redheaded, or rather brow-headed, the two stayed quiet. 

Silence falls upon the group again. A sigh left the girl. Seems like working on a farm was not something for the 6 of them. The farmer had walked up to the kids, ready to give them new tasks. However seeing them all very much in a ruined state, he decides against it. Instead, he tells them there is a pond at the back of his property and if the kids wish to do so, they can go and take a dip.

Without any word, the teens leaned up their plates and went on their way to the pond. The farmer's wife gave them some stale bread to feed the ducks. The way to the pond is not long, and when they get there they all visibly relax. The boys undress to their underwear and leap for the water. The girl, the only one not totally ruined by the world sits down by the shore and feeds the ducks.

The sun slowly sets, painting the sky nice shades of pink and yellow. The girl kept feeding the little ducks, wishing to bring them home. A thud next to her brings her gaze to her boyfriend. He relaxed his head on her shoulder. water from the hair dripping on her t-shirt. Reaching for her hand and the feed in it, he takes some and offers it to the ducks that have nested around her and throws some to the geese that rested a few meters away from them.

 Resting for a while, the kids dried off, dressed themself and packed their stuff. Walking back to the farmhouse, they were given 10 pounds each and sent off with a handful of eggs to go home. Lorenzo and Matteo were asked to come back in two days. The farmer claimed that he did an amazing job with the cows and would like them to help him again. Even offering trippel the reward. They didn't hesitate and agreed.

On their way home, they all agreed to have omelettes for dinner tonight. And maybe the next three nights too.

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Taglist @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman , @pink-heartz , @feistyfox47 , @nickspotatoesalad , @elltheawkward , @myunperfektstorys . @mxryxmfooty , @hoeforvinniehackerrr

[propertyofwicked]

people watching | spencer reid

spencer reid x bau!reader

inspo - people watching by conan gray

2.3k words

warnings: none really - canon character death, angst to comfort :)

they're counting months they've been together, almost 49

“y/n - how long have you worked with the BAU?” morgan asked, shooting you a smirk as you threw your head backwards with a load groan. 

“i don’t know? like, 4 years?”

“4 years, and 34 days, 2 hours and based on when we got called out for your first case, 34 minutes,” reid interjects the conversation without looking up from his file. 

“for someone who has worked here for 4 years, wouldn’t one assume that you would know we never get a whole week without a case?” morgan continued, ignoring reid’s comment, chuckling slightly at the face you pulled. you knew he was right, but something about garcia announcing there’s a new case made you grumpy. as a result you simply whined in response and pushed yourself up to walk to the round table room. morgan and jj walked ahead, but spencer stayed back to walk by your side. 

“hey, that made me realise we’ve been friends for 4 years - we should celebrate!” he said, not looking at you but carrying a smile on his face. 

“depending on the case, maybe we could do movie night when we get back?” you responded, but unlike him, you turned your head to respond to him. 

“that sounds good, did you know research has shown that spending time with loved ones, even doing something as mundane as watching a film, can increase your mental wellbeing?” this time he looked at you to respond, the smile still present on his face.

“so spending time with me is mundane?” you quipped, chuckling at the end of your sentence, so he’d know you were only messing. 

“reid, y/n, thanks for finally joining us,” hotch’s voice sounded across the room.

“sorry dad,” spencer joked, taking his seat next to alex.

they met in class for metaphysical philosophy

he tells his friends, "i like her 'cause she's so much smarter than me" 

they're having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m

“hey spence?” you asked, filling the silence. the film you had been watching ending a while ago, but the two of you stayed sat on his sofa. at some point you had turned to face him, stretching across the chair with your legs over his. he didn’t mind - he compared it to the calming effects of a weighted blanket, rattling off the statistical benefits on anxiety. 

“yeah?” he looked up from his book, with a soft gaze in his eyes. 

“if you weren’t in the bau, what would you be doing right now?”

he paused for a moment, as if to think about his answer.

“i honestly don’t know. i don’t think i knew before i joined the bau either. had i not joined the fbi when i did, i think i’d still be in college just collecting degrees until i’d done them all,” he laughed to himself, “maybe a professor, i have taught a few classes.”

“i know - that’s how we met. you told that god awful joke about a horse who became hyper aware of his own reality.”

“hey! it wasn’t that bad.”

“spence - no one laughed.”

“you did.”

“and i regret that decision almost daily,” you respond, earning a light smack to the shin that was still thrown other his lap. 

“what about you? what would you be doing?”

“i used to think id be married by now but we both know how that ended,” you mention, referencing the ex boyfriend you and spencer both hated, “honestly though, i think id still be in the FBI but with counter intelligence like i had originally planned.”

“im glad you’re not,” he said with a smile. did he mean married or in a different department? you felt safer assuming the latter - it was safer to than getting your hopes up that some feelings might be reciprocated. so for now, you simply hummed in response and allowed the room to fall back into a comfortable silence. 

im only looking just to live through you vicariously ive never really been in love, not seriously

it was clear you had been mistaken, and in the most cruel and soul destroying way - through no fault but your own. he was happy, you could see. the way he no longer had bags living permanently under his eyes - he was sleeping. he’d sneak away to the payphone, assuming no one noticed. it started off serious, like he was only asking the other person direct questions. it didn’t stay that way. soon enough you found yourself sitting in the SUV, staring at him as he laughed into the phone, basically twirling the wire around his finger like a giddy teenage girl. spencer wasn’t yours anymore. you know he never was yours really, but still you held out hope that the lasting glances, the jokes, the comfort and the spontaneous movies nights meant something more to him. it was clear you had been mistaken. 

“you know if you keep staring at him like that your eyes might dry up,” JJ spoke from besides you one day. it made you jump - you hadn’t realised she was stood next to you and you certainly didn’t know how long she’d witnessed you staring at the side of spencer’s faces as he laughed and smiled over the phone. 

“i wasn’t staring,” you defended, but she gave you a look that said she knew you were lying, so you moved on, “who’s he talking to anyway?”

“we don’t know, but morgan and i think spencies got a girlfriend,” she taunted. you didn’t react, this wasn’t news to you - it didn’t take a profiler to work that out. jj didn’t say anything else, she just adjusted the strap of her bag and walked off to find hotch. eventually spencer put the phone down and walked over to you.

“hey you guys find anything?” he asked, it was a general question but it was clearly aimed at you. 

“nothing yet from me, garcia’s still digging stuff up on the victim though. it’s clear the unsub is organised, he’s been disposing these bodies for years, concealing their identities and he’s never been caught.” concealing their identities, you should know all about that reid, you thought to yourself but didn’t allow your face to waver.

“did you know that despite the rich history in the town, only 2,000 visit the area per year on average?”

“i didn’t, no.” it was a blunt response but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. but of course he did, mr 187 who couldn’t gauge most social cues but could tell when you were off with him. it wasn’t fair. how he could act like he loved you still, even though he clearly had someone worth keeping secret in his life. 

his hand reached up to rest on your shoulder, his tall frame towering over you, giving you an intense stare as he did.

“what’s up?” damn you and your profiling skills. you contemplated saying nothing, but that would only lead to more intense questioning, so you deflected, saying you were thinking about the profile. he seemed satisfied and left you to find hotch, just as jj had. 

cut people out like tags on my clothing i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

maeve was gone. that was her name, that was the woman that had made spencer happy in a way you couldn’t. she was gone, and emotionally, so was spencer. for weeks he moped, refusing to leave his apartment. but he was still your best friend. everyday, you sent him a message asking if he was ok, or needed anything, and everyday, it was left on read. whilst he needed his space, it wasn’t in your good conscience to leave him without support. 

walking up to his door was terrifying. why? you had been here thousands of times, spent hundreds of hours watching films on his sofa and yet your heart was beating so fast you felt as though it would tear through your ribcage and fall out on the floor in front of you. if spencer was here, he’d tell you that wasn’t physically possible and you’d more likely have a heart attack. he’d then reassure you by noting the statistical unlikeliness of having you having a heart attack. but he wasn’t, emotionally anyways. you knocked twice.

“go away garcia, i really appreciate everything you’ve done but please leave,” you heard him shout through the door. it was his voice alright, but deep and strained as if he had been crying for weeks - on second thought, he probably had.

“it’s me spence, not penelope. can you let me in?” you called back.

“no. please, i need some space.” ok, if that’s how he wanted to play it, tough love it was. 

“spencer reid if you do not open this door within the next ten seconds i will have morgan kick it down.” it seemed to work, you could hear a muffled sound of him standing up, shuffling across the floor and undoing the latch. you were not expecting the sight you saw when the door opened - it made your heart shred into tiny little pieces that you wanted to sew together and give to him. his hair was greasy, his facial hair had grown more than you’d ever seen it but worst of all, his skin was pale and his face seemed almost a hollow shell of the spencer you knew and loved.

“what do you want y/n?” he grumbled.

“i wanted to check in on you?” suddenly any tough love had gone out the window, and you doubted every word you said to him.

“ok, well im alive. you can go now.”

“spence ple-”

“i said i’m fine. y/n, i know you want me to sort myself out but im not ready to. please leave.”

“i don’t want you to ‘sort yourself out’ spence,” you paused to breathe, “you need to grieve, i understand that but i need you to look after yourself. however, you clearly don’t need me, you’re clearly coping so well on your own.” sarcasm was a defence mechanism - seeing him like that hurt you down to your very core, but they way he was treating you wasn’t fair. you turned on your heal, intending to leave with your dignity mostly intact, but as you go to take your first step a hand grabs you wrist, stopping you from moving.

“y/n, im sorry, please come in.” you offered him a restricted smile and stepped into this apartment, he followed close behind. you were expecting the worst, but this took it to another level. the curtains were drawn closed, takeout containers littered the counter, the floor and the coffee table - at least he was eating. spencer moved to the sofa, shoving books to the floor and offering you a seat. 

“talk to me spence, tell me everything going on in that big brain of yours.” and he did, you must’ve sat there for 2 hours as he told you about maeve, how he first contacted her, how she understood him, the way she laughed. he spoke about guilt, he believed it was his fault and that he’d never be able to forgive himself. only towards the end did he begin to cry, so you wrapped you arms around his torso and pulled him down to rest on your shoulder. to your surprise, his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight. the room fell into silence, as it had hundreds of time, but this one was not one of comfort as it usually was. 

after some time he sat up, “you know, IQ has no effect on the size of your brain. it may be cause a change in external appearance but the size itself will not change.” you couldn’t help but laugh - it wasn’t condescending, just the mere fact that he had spent two hours talking but still remembered to correct your original statement.

i wanna feel all that love and emotion be that attached to the person i'm holding

years passed since that day at spencer’s apartment. it took him a few more weeks, but he returned to work and returned to his normal self. he no longer thought of maeve, he thought of the future, he moved on in life whilst still holding a spot in his heart for her. soon, he became your best friend again - movie nights and take out were reinstated. sometimes he had to beg you to come round after a case to watch a movie. he remembered what life was like. 

that night was a night like many others. the credits rolled and the room became dark with no light blaring from the screen. silence. a comfortable one. tonight, you found yourself with your head laying on his lap, facing the tv, his arm rested on your hip and his fingers played with a hair tie absentmindedly. you said it was comfortable, he didn’t argue - spencer liked your presence. he appreciated you being in his life and never giving up on him. he admired your work ethic, and your friendship. you provided him an outlet, an escape from the stress and constant work.

“hey y/n,” he whispered, and you hummed in response, “i love you.”

“i love you too spencer.” your heart skipped a beat, but you knew he meant as friends, that’s all you were and all you’d ever be - you had grown to accept that. 

“no, y/n, i love you.” this made your head turn and you rolled onto your back to look up at him. “i mean it. i think i always knew deep down, but i couldn’t establish that that was what i was thinking. did you know studies show that some people have to feel love in order to love?”

“i love you too spencer.” you smiled up at him, squinting through your tired eyes, and his hand came down to stroke your cheek softly. 

[busycloudy]

It Wasn't Fate

Tw: Angsty, although it is my first time writing like this

Reader is MC and is gender neutral. Cater and reader are ex's

HEAVILY inspired by this song:

(Maybe listen to it while reading)

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It's now been 2 weeks since the two of you broke up. You stared at the ceiling thinking about it, the rain hitting the windows. You knew you should let it go, you knew that nothing could change what happened in the past, and you knew if you truly loved something you had to let it go. But, for some reason, you constantly thought about it. About everything you could've done better. Everything you did wrong. Constantly thinking the separation was your fault. You hated it so much. Grim and the Adeuce duo always tried to cheer you up, but even if you seemed happy again, there was something in your eyes. You didn't have the usual glint in your eyes. You wasn't yourself anymore.

Grim was bugging you about getting him some tuna so you got up from the couch and got a can of it. You opened the can and gave it to Grim, but then you heard a knock on the door. "Who could be out in this weather-" You opened the door and your eyes widened. At the door was Cater. He was sopping wet because of the rain. "Hey...Can I come in?" He asked. "Sure" You let him in and closed the door behind him. "Uh...Do you want anything? Tea or something?" You asked. He said he'd like some tea, and so you made him some. He mumbled a thanks and drank it. You looked at him, and you hated this. You hated how he came as soon as you were starting to get over it. You hated how heartbroken you felt. You hated all of this. "So, what are you doing here?" You put on a smile. "I was going to Heartslabyul, but then it started pouring, and this was the closest place." Cater said. "Would it be okay if I stayed for the night? It seems like the rain is just gonna get worse." He said. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him he can stay however long it takes to get his things and leave, but you didn't have the heart. "Sure" You smiled and got up to get a blanket and pillow so he can sleep on the couch. You came across something on the floor as you were getting the blankets. It was a phone case. The one Cater gave you when you two were together. It had the same pattern as Cater's did, except that it was your favorite color. You remembered when he gave it to you as a gift for tour 1st anniversary. The bright smile on his face. After the break up you immediately took it off your phone and threw it across the room. Sure, you might've overreacted, but could you really be blamed?

You eventually came back to him with the blankets and pillow. "Here you go" You gave him the items and took the tea cup to put it in the sink. It was still a bit if time before dark, so you stayed in the living room with him while scrolling on your phone. "Hey, MC, I just wanted to say thank you" He smiled at you. That smile reminded you of so much memories. When you two took a picture together. When you two went to a cafe together. When you two would goof off. You felt as if you were gonna cry. "It's no problem" You said with a tremble in your voice. You wished all your memories with him would go away. You wished this never happened. You knew in no universe would it have worked out with him. You couldn't be his friend nor lover. It wasn't fate that brought you two together like you used to say, no, you two met each other by pure coincidence.