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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago

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It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

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levis-hazelnut · 4 years ago

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Levi x Reader Hate At First Sight

Summary: after hearing about you getting into a fight with some Military Police, Erwin and Levi go to try and enlist you as a scout, much to Levi’s dismay. Though, after some months spent there, you found yourself to be disliked by many scouts.

(a/n: look at my baby his side profile he’s so beautiful. also i do not hate petra it’s just for the sake of the fic so please don’t @ me lmao)

You gripped your knees, your back hunched while your chest rose and sank as you tried to catch your breath. The reason you were running was that moments ago, some men tried to molest you. Though you were able to beat them down, you obviously didn't want to stay around that area of filthy MPs. Yes, they were everywhere, but that particular place isn't somewhere where you should be late in the evening. Only whores would walk around there. And you definitely aren't one of them. You may have the face and figure of one, but you would never stoop to that level just to get money and to pleasure foul men who treat women as objects. It's good that you're poor because then you have loose clothes that don't make your curvaceous body show. Walking at a slower pace, you made your way to your 'home' which was just a place behind a store, which had sacks piled on top of each other, making it comfortable enough to sleep there rather than the gelid ground. And to be able to get the owner to let you stay there, you had a massive dispute that caused you to get attention to yourself and you were on the verge of pulling out the blade you keep in your boot. But now, you are on good terms with him.

A lot of the friends you had didn't remain with you because of your temper. Or they would have been caught by the Military Police. Either way, you don't have any of your past friends. Hey, it's not your fault you would go out of control at any time, sometimes for no reason. Well, it is your fault but you didn't make yourself this way, so tell that to whatever god is up there.

You plopped down onto the stack of sacks, staring up at the midnight blanket, where stars sparkled in and the gleaming moon gazed down at you. As you rested your head on your arm and your other arm laid across your torso, your stomach slightly grumbled from being deprived of food. Sighing, you jumped up, heading inside the shop you laid behind. Thankfully, it was a small restaurant. As you walked in, the owner glanced at you with a frown. "(Y/N), it's closing time. Why are you coming in now?" You put a hand to your stomach. "Don't tell me. It's my hollow stomach." "Here." He chucked you a whole loaf of bread and an apple. "Now, leave. I've got to clean up." "Thanks.” Sitting back down, you threw the apple up in the air and caught it in your left hand as you ate the bread. After finishing the food, you relaxed and closed your eyes, so you could escape from the life you have and dream about living somewhere else, somewhere cosy, somewhere warm and more home-like. And maybe even someone you could spend your life with without them leaving you because of your fierceness or dying. ~/~ "Corporal Levi?" "What?" aforementioned person replied with an exasperated sigh. "Commander Erwin said he needs to talk to you." "Tch. Okay." He walked away with profanities soaring through his mind, wanting to just go to his office and avoid people that were getting on his nerves. Stepping into the Commander's office, he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall after shutting the door. "What do you want?" The Commander gestured to a chair in front of him so the other male could sit down and he could inform him of the situation. "A while ago, in Wall Sina, there was a woman who got in a fight with a few Military Police and took off with ODM gear. She isn’t a soldier or anything, so she most likely hadn't handled gear before, but she was able to use it with ease, meaning she's someone skilled." "So?" "We need to go get her to enlist as a scout." "Tch. Why? She already sounds shitty and bratty." "We're going tonight, Levi." He stood up and left the office, clicking his tongue. All he wanted was to avoid people and now, he has to go get some bitch who probably doesn't even know how to wipe their ass. An hour, or so, ago... A group of four Military Police surrounded you, all of them having smug expressions that made you want to punch them in their faces... and then their balls. You wouldn't let them get away with only a punch to the face. Who do they think you are? A princess? You steal some gear thingy, that looked intriguing to you, from one of them and suddenly you're the bad guy? These idiots think they can beat you as well. You could just laugh. "Do you really think you can beat me?" you chuckled. You did just laugh. "We don't want to hurt you, darlin'. Just give us back the gear." "Who said you can call me darlin'?" you snarled and fly kicked one of them. He ended up slamming against the building behind him, sliding down the wall, knocked out. You charged at another, kicking their crotch and punching the top of his head as he dropped onto the ground with a thud.

Two more left... One of them came towards you with their fist drawn back to punch you with a force meant to harm you but you caught their fist and twisted their arm, pushing it towards their chest as they let out a cry of pain. You thrust your foot at his abdomen as he held his arm, groaning.

"Are you really going to try and beat me?" The last one only smirked, approaching you, so you pulled out the blades from the equipment you took from him and pressed it to his neck. He froze on the spot and gulped, cold sweat appeared on his flesh and dropped with a patter on the ground. "I'm going to give you five seconds to take your comrades and get your asses out of here." You put the blade back into its place and watched the panicking man pick up the other dirty humans and hurry away, not wanting to wait to see what you would do after five seconds. Ignoring the people gawking at you, you dusted your clothes before figuring out how to use the gear to head to your favourite shop, wanting something to drink. You were able to do it with ease, flying through the doors and swiftly landing on your feet. The bell rang to notify people that someone came in.

You sat on your table. Yes, it was your table and all the regulars knew that after seeing you pound a man for taking your table. Ever since then, no one has sat at that table apart from the drunk idiots who want your attention or people that haven't been to this place yet. It was near the window and it had the sofa seat so you would lean your back against the window, stretching your legs across the seat. You placed the equipment you took on the table.

"Oi, Luis," you called to the owner, and he looked at you from where he was at the counter. "The usual." He nodded at you and proceeded to make you your black tea with no sugar. After about five minutes, he placed the cup of tea in front of you as you handed him some money you were able to 'earn', paying him for the food he gave you the last few days as well. But you always got a discount so it wasn't too much of a problem for you to stea-- earn a bit of dough. "Hi, (Y/N)~" Yay, another drunken fool trying to hit on you. You rolled your eyes, disregarding his presence that sat opposite you as you drank your tea. He was saying shit you weren't listening to. But, seriously, who gets drunk during the day? He's probably just another jerk whose wife ran away from and took most of his money or something like that. All these snobby, egotistic people, who live within Wall Sina, piss you off to the extent that you want to make sure that their pained screams reach Wall Rose, so that those citizens would know what would happen if they pissed you off. "Hey, idiot, I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of my sight," you growled. All he did was smirk and lean over the table, trying to get closer to you. You punched him the middle of his face, but it didn't look like he could feel it. You stood up and dragged him off the seat, kicking him over and over as he laid on the sparkling, marble floor. "Hey, hey, hey!!" Luis jogged up to you. "(Y/N), you need to stop beating up my customers! Soon, you'll be my only customer." "Tell this bastard to get the fuck out and leave me alone, then." "I can't kick someone out for you." "Tch." You trudged out of the shop, wandering around the streets, hiding from any MPs that walked past, so you could evade another fight since you weren't in the mood for any action. "Hey, (Y/N)!" "Moritz," you greeted as he came up to you. "I haven't seen you in a while." "Just trying to stay away from any bastards. So, get away from me," you joked to which he chuckled softly. "My offer still stands... I'd like a daughter like you." "Sorry, Moritz. Leon isn't my type." "My son is in love with you. He's a kind and soft lad and if I'm being fair, he's handsome." "Exactly. That isn't my type. I want someone strong, feisty and someone able to handle my temper and maybe get into heated arguments with me. But of course, I want someone attractive." Several hours later... "Levi, are you ready?" "Yes." The stoic man let out a heavy breath and proceeded to leave his office, following the tall blonde. They both got their gear before leaving the building and entering a carriage waiting for them. "Why is this brat special? There are so many cadets that can use ODM gear." "As I said before, she isn’t a soldier and was able to use it without practice." "What's her name?" "(Y/N) (L/N)." The rest of the journey was quiet, only a few words of what they were going to do and the occasional click of the tongue because of how long the trip was. Finally, they arrived in front of a classy restaurant and it was filled with people due it being the evening when couples go there. You shimmied past the couples all dressed up in fancy clothes and you were able to make it out of it. Looking back over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes before frowning when you saw two men standing in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and arched an eyebrow. "Look, I took your friend's gear hours ago. Why are you still chasing after me? It's not that big of a deal." "Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" the taller male asked. "... Yes. What do you want?" "May I see the gear you were talking about?" "Are you going to take it?" "No." "Okay. Follow me." You walked to your pile of sacks, expecting them to be behind you but they were in their place. "You coming or what?" They slowly approached you, wary of their surroundings. "What is this place?" the stoic male questioned, clearly disgusted. "Welcome to my humble abode." You ignored his criticism. You looked about for the gear but you couldn't find it, that's when you realised that you had left it in the restaurant. You hoped that no one took it. You sighed and looked into the restaurant, telling the two males where you left it, so they dismissed you, allowing you to get it and they followed you but waited outside. You opened the door, pushing people out of the way. "Move out the way, you fucking arrogant idiots," you muttered. You looked around your table where a couple sat but you didn't care since you weren't going to sit there and there wasn't any other space. You frowned when you didn't see it. Who the fuck took it? ... Oh, they did. There were two men and a woman on a table with the gear in front of them as they all put their nasty hands on it. The woman was drunk and holding a wine glass filled with a red liquid, one of the men was smoking and the other had a beer. You barged through the crowd, striding to their table. "Excuse me. This is mine." You tried taking it, but the man closest to you stopped you from doing that as he stood up, coming closer to you so you backed away. You could smell the cigarettes emitting from him as you held your breath at the foul smell. "Now, why would I let you take this without anything in return?" "Tch. Give it before I prevent you from having kids." "I wouldn't mind having a baby with a gal like you." "Get your breath out of my face. And give it to me. I swear, I'll knock you down so you won't be able to get up ever again," you grumbled. "I like my women feisty." You punched his left cheek and he stumbled back into his seat as you picked up the gear, turning around to face the entrance but all you saw was more people entering. Okay, you didn't care anymore. You swiped a man and stepped on him to get closer to the door but a woman came in your way, her boobs blocking your way. You slid through what little space there was and jumped over a short person, enabling you to exit and go back to the two men outside. The one with blue eyes looked surprised as you passed him the material. "That was impressive." "What?" "How you got past all those people." "Eh, it was nothing." "Anyway, are you able to use this properly?" "Yes. It isn't that hard." "Can you show me your skills with it?" "Why? Wait... how do you even know my name? Who are you people?" you inquired after realisation hit you. "I'm Commander Erwin Smith and this is Corporal Levi Ackerman. We're from the Scout Regiment and we heard that you got into a fight with some MPs and you were able to easily use this so I wanted to see your skills and see if you're worthy of becoming a scout." "Why would I want to join you? All of you are stupid to leave the walls to fight titans. I don't want to become like you. And there are a lot who don't even know how to fight and I don't want to fight with morons,” you responded. "Yes, I don't have a great life but it's better than risking it to go do something stupid. I don't care if you're the Commander and he's Humanity's Strongest Soldier, I'm not becoming a scout." "Tch. We don't do something stupid, we fight for humanity. You only fight to get away from trouble. I don't know why we have to save the likes of you but we do and we don't do it because we want to, we do it because we have to. And they may be idiots, but they're damn good soldiers who shouldn't be ill spoken about by someone like you," Levi growled lowly, venom laced in his words. 'Someone like you', who does this fucking midget think he is? You were probably around his height but women are generally shorter than men. You narrowed your eyes and proceeded to thrust your fist at his face but he dodged it before headbutting you. He punched your nose, causing it to bleed and he struck your gut straight after. He threw punches at you, one after another, until you had enough, bringing your leg up to kick the side of his head. He put his hand there, weakening the blow, and grabbed your ankle, slamming you down onto the stone ground. You felt slightly dizzy but you shook it off, standing up immediately, ramming your knuckles into his face and you tried to trip him over but he kept his balance. After punches being thrown and both of you being beaten up, to finish the fight off, he slid behind you and twisted your arm behind your back, stepping on your foot as his other hand held your wrist by your side. You tried shaking him off, but it was futile. He twisted your arm more, getting a quiet hiss of pain from you. "You may be able to beat up some useless MPs but we, at the Scout Regiment, are nothing like them. You better think twice before you try to fight with me." "Thank you, Le--" Erwin started but was cut off. "(Y/N)?" a gentle voice uttered, and you turned your head towards it. "What are you doing here, Leon?" "I-I came here to see you..." he shyly said, his ginger hair hiding his emerald eyes as he gazed at the ground where blood trailed. "What's happening? Who are these men?" He looked back up with concern pooling in his orbs. "It's nothing. Do you want to talk about something?" "It can wait. It looks like you have to deal with something." "Oi, get off of me. I won't try to put up a fight, or run away." "I don't trust you." You clicked your tongue and lifted your foot up to kick his groin but he wrapped his leg around yours so you weren't able to strike him. "Can I not talk to him?" you snapped. "Levi, let her go." "Idiot," you murmured loud enough so he was able to hear but he didn't say anything. You walked up to the boy. "Leon, I don't think you should tell me anything important because I don't know if I'm going to be able to see you after today. They're from the Survey Corps and they want to enlist me. I don't want to go, but it looks like they're going to force me." "But--" You could see the tears welling up in his pretty eyes. "I love you, (Y/N)." "I know. But that's how it is. Sorry." You didn't sound sorry at all, your tone was your usual dull, yet harsh one, but you genuinely did feel a bit of compassion for him. After two years of trying to get you to be his wife, you're going to leave his life without leaving any feelings for him. He was a gentleman and you liked him, however, not as a lover or whatever, he was just delightful to have around. You didn't want to leave him like this so you embraced him, gently rubbing his back and whispering a few words. "Will you ever come back?" "I don't know. It's a high possibility that I won't." "If you do, will you marry me then?" "We'll have to see," you smiled; it was the first smile you ever let break out onto your lips since you were around ten. "Tch. Why did I come to see this?" "Shut up, Levi. Just be glad that you'll have a valuable soldier on your side." A scowl replaced your smile. He scoffed. "We've got plenty of useful soldiers, including myself." "I might see you later, Leon. Bye." "Bye, (Y/N)." He took your hand and softly kissed it. And with that, you left the boy in heartbreak and started a new life as a scout after showing them your skills, which Levi scoffed at so you backhanded him. On the way to headquarters, you and Levi sat opposite each other and argued as Erwin silently sat there, wishing for the ride to be over. Since the journey was long and it was around midnight, you had fallen asleep after some time, allowing peace to settle into the carriage. Once you reached HQ, Erwin stepped out and stood by the carriage, waiting for you and Levi to get off. "Oi, brat, get up." Levi tried to awake you. "Brat, wake up." "Who you calling brat?" you asked tiredly, failing to convey your irritation. "You. Now, shut up and get out." "Tch. Don't go telling me what to do, Ackerman," you muttered angrily, too tired to put up a fight. All three of you entered the building and coincidentally, you were walking next to Levi, starting another argument so Erwin walked in between the both of you, leading you to his office, while Levi went to his.

"Take a seat, (Y/N),” he told you. "This is the key to your room. We'll fill out the paperwork and do everything tomorrow. For now, just go sleep and I'll tell you all you need to know tomorrow." "Whatever." You left his office after he told you the directions to your room and you went there, finding a single bed with a bedside table that had a lit lantern. The first thing you wanted to do was have a shower since you felt sweaty from all the action you had today. Once you showered, you went straight to bed, snuggling into the blanket, able to have a good night's sleep for once in ages. ~/~ After changing into your uniform, you looked at your reflection. It fit you very well but you didn't want it to. You don't like showing your curves, but it's not that you feel insecure with people looking, you just don't like it. You don't want your body to be the thing that attracts people and you don't want people coming after you because of your alluring figure. With no hesitation, you would punch anyone that tries to touch you. As you were told to, you went to Erwin's office before breakfast started, ignoring the gazes that were focused on your form. You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his office, slamming the door behind you. "Gosh, these idiots don't know how to keep their eyes in their sockets." You turned your head to the door, not noticing Erwin's cerulean eyes on you. He blinked to break himself out of his daze and cleared his throat as he gestured to the seat in front of him. You sat down casually, not caring about being formal. "Sit up, (Y/N)." "Tch." "Sit up," he repeated. "You shouldn't disobey your superiors." You sighed and did as he said. "Happy?" "I've got these papers for you to sign," he told you as he handed a few sheets. "And these papers have information that you'll need to know but I'm going to go through it with you. I'm going to put you in Hanji's command..." After about half an hour, you were able to leave his office and make it for breakfast. You entered the mess hall with him and grabbed some food, sitting down on an empty table since you have yet to get to know these people and you thought that people would come up to you first. "Who is she?" "Mmm~ Look at that ass." "Look at those boobs." "You lot are pervs." "You only say that because you have Krista." "Yeah, and she's better than whoever that woman is." "I think she's pretty." "She's certainly not ugly." "Eren?" "Mikasa, do you not say anything else?" "Eren?" "What?" "Stop ogling her." "I-I wasn't." "Yeah, right, Jaeger. Wipe the drool from your mouth." "I'm the one drooling? You look like you have rabies." "You want to take this outside?" "Both of you, stop being children." You glanced at the table making the most noise and saw that all ten of them were looking in your way. Some averted their eyes as others smiled at you, however, you gave a cold stare in return before looking back at your food. It wasn’t exactly intentional to look at them like that, it's basically just your usual expression. "Did you see that?" "She may be pretty, but she's rude." "Who does she think she is? Looking at us like that." "I didn't see what happened." "Of course you didn't. You were too busy stuffing your face with food." "I think we should go talk to her." "Yeah, teach her a lesson." "Guys, sit down. You can't do that do a new person." "Yeah, guys, what's wrong with you?... Wait like a week, then you can teach her a lesson." "Jean! Don't encourage them!" "Oi, you lot?" You stood at their table, their heads turning your way as they had just noticed that you were there. "If you try to beat me up, you'll be s-- What the hell are you doing?!" you yelled at the person on your left who just touched your ass. "Feeling your ass," he stated nonchalantly. "You people are pervs. I agree with whoever that it is." "Whoever that it is, is Ymir," said girl inserted. They all introduced themselves to you but you couldn't be any less interested. "Okay, whatever. I don't give a shit about who you are. I came here to tell you that if you, Eren, Ymir, Jean and Reiner, try to beat me up, you'll be sorry. And I don't understand, do you want to grope my ass or beat it, Reiner?" "Who said I can't do both?" he smirked as you rolled your eyes, about to go back to your table. "Wait, (Y/N). Why don't you sit with us?" "So I can get harassed? No, thanks." "Just sit with us. We promise we won’t do anything," Jean told you. With slight reluctance, you got your plate from the other table and sat on the end of the table next to Armin, everyone focused on you as you spoke about your life before you came here.

At times, you would notice brown eyes belonging to a strawberry-blonde girl and grey eyes belonging to a raven man flutter towards you, but every time you looked up, they pretended as if they weren't staring at you. You could feel their glares burn into you. And you knew Levi's stare was of anger, but what was that girl's problem? ~/~ You wore a vest top and shorts, training with Reiner who volunteered to, probably just so he could see you with fewer clothes on. It's been going on for the past few weeks. You were a bit distracted during training because you felt as if someone was watching you and they were giving off a dark aura. You looked around but couldn't find anyone. "(Y/N), are you okay?" "Yeah. Come on." You waited for him to attack you and he did but you were able to knock him down before you saw the cause of the dark aura in the distance. "Hey, you!" you shouted, going towards them. "Do you have something to say to me?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "No. Nothing at all." She clenched her jaw. "You're Petra, right?" "Yeah. Actually, I do want to tell you something, you stay away from Corporal Levi," she growled, scrunching your vest in her fist. "Woah, Petra! What are you doing to (Y/N)?" Reiner jogged up to the two of you. Damn, now you can't beat the crap out of her. She let go of you and put on a bright smile, facing Reiner who knew that that smile was fake. "Nothing. I was just giving her some advice about making friends." "We need to train so leave us alone," Reiner took your arm protectively and dragged you away, but you protested. "Wait. I'll train with Petra today," you smirked devilishly. "No." "Oi, Petra! How about you spar with me?" "... Why?" "Just." You shrugged. "Sure," she agreed when she saw Levi come outside of the building, taking the chance to get his attention. You knew she wasn't strong enough for her to beat you, so this wouldn't end well for her. You both got into a fighting stance, before you threw your fist forward at her face, but you stopped just before you hit her so she dodged the potential blow and wasn't able to elude the kick you gave at her side. She was about to topple over but she caught herself, not letting you be victorious just yet. She attempted to punch your gut but you blocked it by making a cross over yourself. A crowd formed around you two, including the Corporal that Petra seemed obsessed about. But, of course, with his short stature, he wasn't able to see who exactly was fighting, so he pushed people out of the way, able to reach the front and see you and Petra. She tried to trip you over but that failed miserably and she fell flat on her face. A few from the huddle snickered quietly as others applauded even though it wasn't a real win. You crouched down and whispered, "Good luck in impressing that stubborn idiot." You got back up, grabbed your uniform and walked off, ignoring Levi who called for you. "Hanji!" you called to get her attention as she strolled through the castle. "Yes?" "Does Petra like Levi or something?" "I think so, yes. Why are you asking?" "During my training, she was watching me and she said to stay away from him. We got into a small fight which quickly ended because of her stupidity. I'm guessing the only reason this happened is that she's jealous. But she's moronic if she thinks that I would try to move to Levi." "Who's moronic?" a familiar voice spoke from behind you. You turned around. "Petra. Why the fuck would she think that I like you? You're bothersome, you're stubborn, you're irritating, you're an ass, you annoy the hell out of me and you're a bastard." "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "The same can be said about you." "Tch. Shut it, Ackerman." "You know, you have a temper problem. And you shouldn't talk to me like that." "This is who I am. I can talk to you in any way I like." "You might not be able to talk after I knock your teeth out," he threatened with a glare. "I'm not scared of you." "We'll see about that," he muttered before walking away. "And put some clothes on." "What did you do to Shorty to make him so angry with you?" "I called soldiers stupid. Got in a fight with him. We've argued a lot of times." "Oof. I would have advised you to stay on his good side." "Too late." You shrugged. "It won't last long. He'll soften up after some time." "I don't think he will. Whatever, I need to go 'put some clothes on'." "Okay. Can I borrow you after for help with experiments?" Hanji asked slowly, hoping you wouldn't yell at her like last time, saying how you didn't give a sh*t about it. "No," you bluntly said as you left her, going to your room but was stopped by an annoying figure who you rolled your eyes at. "Looking good, (Y/N)." "Shut up." "You look a little dirty, want to have a shower with me?" You grabbed Jean's collar and brought your face close to his, a glare etched on your visage as you saw his Adam's apple move down and then back into its place as he gulped. "Shut the hell up and I'll let this one time slide." He nodded and scurried off once you let you go of him, entering your room and locking the door behind you. You decided to shower since you were covered in sweat and you felt nasty. ~/~ "Eurgh, look who it is," a voice whispered a little too loud as you entered the mess hall for breakfast, striding to your usual table with a few of people that you don't mind being around and the few that aren't annoying you or bothering you in any way. "She doesn't belong here." "You know, I heard that before she came here she worked in a brothel." "Everyday, she wears her vest top and short shorts, acting like a slut." "The other day, she was being a bitch to me. She laughed at my figure when I was looking in my reflection. Then, she said that no one would love me when I have a body like this." "I've heard that she's flirted with every man she's had contact with." This has been going on for at least three months: people making fun of you, talking about you, pushing you about, calling you names and such. You haven't taken any of it to heart, but you wondered what happened to make nearly everyone despise you. Everyone but superiors and the ten scouts you had befriended first, and even though Levi dislikes you, he doesn't contribute to the crowd that is being cruel to you. He already hated you from the start. "They're still going at it?" "Forget about them," Erwin told you. "How can I when they're practically saying it to me? All of what they're saying isn't even true. And they shouldn't try to start a fight with me because I'll beat the sh*t out of them." "Well, you are a bitch, so that's true," Levi murmured. "Ackerman, I suggest you shut up before I beat the shit out of you." You rammed your heel into his foot under the table since you were opposite him. "Tch. You should be happy that some of us aren't part of those dumb brats." "Dumb?" you repeated. "So, you're saying that they're dumb for saying all that stuff about me?" "... No... They're stupid in general." "Mhm." "What was that?" He frowned. "What?" "That 'mhm'." "Nothing." After staring at each other questioningly, you both went quiet as the other superiors on your table carried on their own conversations. Halfway through breakfast, you felt something cold and wet being poured onto your head, soaking your shirt and falling down your shirt which sent a shiver through you. You stood up and turned around to the laughing bastards, kicking the boy in the nuts and slapping the girl which shut them up. "What the fuck is your problem?! What did I do to you?!" "Someone decided to go braless today," the girl whispered to the other. You looked down and felt your cheeks growing red, out of rage and embarrassment. Something landed on your head and hung over your chest. You realised that it was a cape that Levi threw at you, which you wrapped around yourself before heading to your room to change out of the drenched clothes that you had just changed into. "Why the hell are you doing this? Yeah, she can be a brat, but all of you are, so I don't know why you lot are acting like this towards her when she didn't do anything. Both of you have kitchen duty for two months. If I see you one of you two do anything to her, you won't see the end of it." "Yes, sir." "Now, get the hell out of my face," Levi ordered as he sat back down in his seat, the others on the table looking at him with surprise. Who knew he would stand up for you like that? "What are you looking at?" "How come you stood up for (Y/N) like that?" Miche asked. "I didn't stand up for her. I was scolding them for acting like that towards a cadet." "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say," Hanji said quietly with a smirk. "You shut up, Shitty Glasses." "I'm just saying that I don't think you would have done that for any other scout." "... That may be true, but they're mistreating (Y/N) for no reason." "Getting close to her, are we?"

"Tch. Just shut up." "Shorty has a crush~" Hanji sang in a low voice near his ear as she sat next to him, her 'best friend'. "I've only known her for five damn months. How could I already like her?" "Why are you asking me? And five months isn't that short, it's quite long if you think about it." "I don't care. I don't like her." "Okay~ Whatever you say~" Levi shot daggers at her before going back to eating in silence, not interacting with any more annoying people who seem to have a habit of bothering him nearly every day. One day, they'll leave him and he can live in serenity. One day, when all the titans are rid of and he can leave this shithole. All he has to do wait for that damn day that's taking its time to arrive. Can't it be a little more considerate? "I have to agree with Hanji. You seem to be a little protective over (Y/N)," Erwin stated after some time. "I. Don't. Fucking. Like. That. Brat." "Calm down, Levi. It's not a bad thing to like (Y/N)," Moblit teased. "Tch." The raven stood up and left the mess hall as he could hear the others laughing at him in the background. He slammed the door shut and trudged to his office with a scowl. He found you standing outside his office, your hand reaching for the handle but you stopped when you saw him come your way. "What are you doing, brat?" "I was going to give you your cape back. Thanks," you muttered. "Shut up," he grumbled, snatching the material from your hands and stepping into his office, locking the door. "Oi! Why are you telling me to shut up when I said thanks?" you shouted. "Get away from my office!" he yelled back. You rolled your eyes and started to go back to the mess hall. "Last time I thank you, bastard," you mumbled to yourself. ~/~ Your door shut with a bang after you had stormed into it, and leaned your back against the wood, hiding your face in your hands as you cried. Your legs gave out so you dropped to the ground with your legs arched and your arms resting on your knees as you placed your head on your arms, feeling tears drop onto your lap, seeping through your clothes. Two minutes later, you heard laughing, yelling and then footsteps approach your room. Light knocks sounded from the door with the soft call of your name. You knew who it was, but didn't respond so they turned the handle, slowly pushing the door open, however, you prevented that from happening by sitting by the door. They slid through the small gap before closing the door again, crouching down to you. "(Y/N)." "Leave me alone!" you shouted, though it was muffled behind your sobs and your face was hidden. "No. You obviously need someone right now." "I hate you! I hate all of them! Just get the fuck out!!" you roared, tearing your face away from your arms and looking at Levi's gentle expression. He didn't seem startled at all. "... Why are they doing this to me?" you whispered and concealed your face again, not wanting Levi to see you in this state. "Ignore them." "You know, it's all that Petra's fault. The bitch is envious of me and just wants to break me down into nothing. All because she's in love with you and she thinks that I like you!" "Tch. I don't even like her. She can fuck off. And how is doing this going to make me fall for her? I was wondering why she was being more clingy than usual," he muttered, but it was more to himself before he turned his attention back to you. "Don't let her break you down. You're a strong woman, so don't let something petty like this ruin you." "What am I meant to do? You don't know how hard it is to overlook them. You don't know how hard it is to keep a straight face when I'm hurting inside. I don't care if Petra may be making them do this, I hate it!" Surprisingly, you felt arms loop around your cowered form and haul you onto Levi's lap which made you remove your head from your arms again, looking at the raven, who was now right in front of you and gazing at your bloodshot eyes. He gently wiped your tears away and brushed a few (H/C) tresses that stuck to your tear-stained face.

More tears escaped as you shoved your face into his chest, soaking his shirt with the salty moisture and snot. He cradled you in his arms until you stopped crying which was about under an hour. "Are you okay now?" "Yeah. Thank you," you murmured as you wiped your face with tissue that Levi got for you. "Don't mention it. Do you need to talk?" "What's there to talk about? Petra hates me so she got people to make my life hell and I broke down." "I don't know how you were able to put up with it for half a year." "Barely. I just put on a poker face." Levi gently grabbed your chin in between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head towards him as you saw a slight smile creep onto his lips. "Don't hide your feelings anymore," he whispered before tenderly kissing you, his eyes fluttering shut. You were taken aback before you were brought back to your senses, finding yourself kissing him back as you cupped his face with a single hand. One of his hands trailed up from your hips to your scalp, tangling his slender fingers in your tousled locks. He was the first to pull away with gleaming orbs gazing at you with affection, licking away the strand of saliva that connected his lips to yours. "I'll always be here for you. To protect you, to talk, to comfort you, or whatever else you want." "Thank you, Levi," you hummed, leaning your forehead against his, pecking his lips once more. "Come on. Let's go eat." "I don't want to go," you said with pleading eyes. "I told you that I'll be here for you. You have to eat something before you sleep." "Please, don't make me go." "Just sit with me. I'll make sure that no one does anything to you." "I can't." "You need to endure it to become stronger. I'll be right next to you, okay?."

Sighing shakily, you stood up with a nod. "Okay." "I like seeing this vulnerable side of you," Levi teased as he walked out of your room, you padding beside him. "Shut up. You aren't allowed to tell anyone about this." The Corporal only smirked as you rolled your eyes.

As you strolled through the corridors to get to the mess hall, a few people were lingering, standing on the side and snickering when you went past. You tried to ignore them, though, it was difficult. "I heard that she got Corporal Levi drunk to sleep with her." "I can't, Levi. I'm going back to my room." You proceeded to turn and walk away but he grabbed your forearm. "(Y/N)." He cupped your face with both of his hands, making you face him but you averted your eyes, feeling tears welling up. "Look at me." You reluctantly brought your eyes back to his. "She's a whore. She tried to make me have sex with her and my friend. She wanted a threesome!" "Levi, I'm going." You tried freeing yourself from his hold, but he didn't let you. "No. Look at me. Ignore them." "How am I meant to ignore them?!" "Look at me!" he commanded. "... You can ignore them if you put your mind to it. Don't let them cause you grief because then it pains me to see you hurt. I don't like seeing you in pain so don't get affected by them. Ignore them and keep your eyes on me." A tear rolled down your cheek so he embraced you tightly, stroking your back soothingly. He let out an inaudible huff, wishing he could relieve your pain. "I won't force you to go to the mess hall. Go to my office, I'll bring you food." You nodded and pulled away from his grip. When you made your way to his office, people would say or do things but you stayed strong, and you were kind of proud of yourself once you made it into his office. You sat down on his sofa, waiting for him to come back. About five minutes later, the raven appeared with a tray of two bowls, bread and two glasses of water. He settled it onto his desk after you helped him clear the surface. You both sat down and ate together, allowing him to see your smile that he was deprived of ever since people started to harass you. After years of dreaming of having a home, having someone to stay with you, they came true. You have someone strong, feisty and you're sure you'll have plenty more heated arguments to come. On top of it all, he was damn sexy.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk #snk imagines #aot imagines #levi ackerman x reader #reader insert #x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #i dont hate petra

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neokollection · 4 years ago

Text

Reaction To Their S/O Feeling Ugly While Pregnant

WayV

‘hi if you get the chance could you please do a wayv version of “s/o feels ugly while pregnant” reaction? i really enjoyed the first two parts! thank you 💕💕💕’ NCT 127/U ver. is here~

Kun:

He’d be such a good dad-

You let the pads of your fingertips trace down the stretchmarks among the side of your stomach- You’d tried a variety of lotions & oils known for reducing scar visibility and yet they were still very much present. With a sigh you rubbed the oil in as you examined yourself in the mirror. Would you ever be able to get rid of them-? It donned on you once again how nearly impossible it could be regain your previous body.

The ajar door opened slowly, revealing your fiancé, his eyes questioning and brows raised.

“Yes?”

He gave his usual gentle smile, “I was just checking in on you- You’ve been in here for a while.”

“Oh-”

You hadn’t realized how long you’d been in there, having showered, shaved, and lazily towel dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror for a matter of minutes in your joggers and bralette. He also took notice of your appearance, skin glowing with moisture, lips rosy, hair damp, droplets of water decorating your soft shoulders, the valley of your breasts calling to him, the large swell of your stomach reminding him you were the mother of his child. Words couldn’t express how he felt just looking at you- He slipped in, his grin growing as he positioned himself behind you, his hands sliding along your very bloated waist to the front of your balloon of a stomach. His hands were so much warmer and larger than yours.

“You smell good,” he noted, pressing his cheek to your damp hair, his breath tickling your ear.

His hands continued to roam along your stomach, his rougher fingertips glossing over the stretchmarks at your side repeatedly, the patterned indentations rapturing his attention.

“I can’t get rid of them,” you informed, lips pulling into a frown.

“You don’t have to,” he informed softly, his mesmerized hands tracing over them once more.

“Even after-” you choked up, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go back to normal.”

The wells in your eyes spilled over, causing you to bring your hands to your face.

“Shh,” he coaxed, his hands going to your own as he turned turned your head gently, causing your feet to take tiny steps until you faced him, immediately letting your head fall to his shoulder.

“You’re perfect now- You were perfect before- And you’ll be perfect after,” he reminded, referring to your body, “You’re so beautiful, you have no idea-”

Ten:

Any chance he could, Ten would have his cheek pressed to your stomach, the small bump having enraptured his attention for the past months. He listened intently for signs of life, his hand going to rest of the expanse of your stomach, patiently awaiting a kick. At first it was quite endearing, but with time you felt more self-conscious as he’d lift the front of your shirt up.

Today he was feeling quite lovey, having been wrapped around you since he came home. His damp hair tickled your skin, his scent vanilla- You were glad he’d showered before climbing into bed with you, but wish he’d dried his hair. He pressed a tender kiss to your collar before nuzzling into your neck, drawn to the warmth as his hand slid from the mound of your stomach to your chest, giving one of your clothed breasts a gentle squeeze-

“Ten,” you whined slightly, shying away from the droplets of cold water that greeted you.

Reaching down as he hummed, he started pulling the front of your shirt up. With a kiss to your jaw he drew back- Before he could feast his eyes on the glory of your tummy you pushed your shirt back down, attempting to sit up slightly. Confused, he held your gaze for a long moment of silence, trying to decipher if you were mad at him, if he’d done something wrong.

“I’m not in the mood,” you informed, breaking eye contact for a brief moment.

Registering your words, he open but shut his mouth before breaking into a beautiful smile, collapsing toward you with a light chuckle.

“That’s okay,” he replied, wrapping himself around your arm as he snuggled closer childishly, “I just want to be with you~”

He expected a reaction, a smile or giggle, even a roll of your eyes would suffice, instead you sighed quietly, turning your gaze from him.

“Um,” he began, “Am I being annoying or something-? You seem upset...” he trailed off.

You couldn’t think of how to express yourself, replying with a simple, “No,” with a voice crack- You now turned your face fully from him, knowing what would come next, tears.

“Baby,” he called, his tone serious, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so ugly,” you whispered- “I’ve gotten so fat-”

Ten wore an incredulous expression, judging you.

“What are you talking about?”

You couldn’t reply, you didn’t want to be a crying mess.

He wrapped himself around your body, leg draping over your hip, you were surprised he had the strength to pull your body into his own.

“No, you’re not-”

You still couldn’t reply, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and dry your eyes.

“I love you,” he reminded, pressing a kiss to your temple as he held you.

WinWin:

“Some girls you just can’t tell if they’re pregnant or just fat,” your friend ranted, stabbing another french fry with her fork before enlarging her eyes, “But like you- I can obviously tell you’re just pregnant,” she added in attempt to not be offensive. Yikes.

A dinner with friends was fun for the most part, but there were certainly characters who had rather strong opinions- Lately you simply felt you were matured, in different places in life- Less of a connection.

Distracted, she began to ramble about something else and you noticed Sicheng refill your glass of water. You hardly had an appetite, taking small bites of food before downing your water.

“Why don’t you eat more?” Sicheng prodded gently, leaning into your side.

“I’m not hungry.”

He pursed his lips in response, struggling for a moment for how he should proceed. Perhaps you didn’t like the meal, with his fork a stabbed a piece of your calzone, seemed fine. Using his fork to push your food aside he scraped some pieces of steak from his plate.

“Sicheng,” you fought, not wanting him to waste his food on you.

“Try it-”

“You should just-”

“Eat,” he ordered, more authoritative this time.

With your fork you toyed with your food as Sicheng engaged in a new conversation.

As were pulling on your coat you could tell Sicheng was in a mood- Likely because you didn’t listen to him, idly pushing the food around your plate. You knew once you were in the car with him he’d expect an explanation.

“You have to eat more-”

“I feel sick when I eat too much,” you retorted.

He gave a small sigh- You knew your body better than he did, but he still was worried for both of you, casting a quick glace at your belly.

“Is it because of what your friend said?”

“No!” you argued defensively, crossing your arms- He’d caught you.

“Babe,” he spoke, his voice low.

You couldn’t help but look at him for longer than you should have, the blurring lights of the city behind him fading as his masculine profile ensnared your attention, a hand on the wheel.

“Forget what she said- You’re beautiful,” he praised, eyes on the road, “You have to eat well, for both of you.”

His free hand stretched out to feel your bump- Mentally he promised himself he’d keep an even closer eye on you.

Lucas:

“Boy or Girl?” the elderly woman behind the register cheerfully asked.

Taken slightly aback you unconsciously placed your hand upon your stomach.

“Not sure yet,” you informed politely with a forced smile.

Lucas stood proudly next to you, a dumb smile playing on his face as he fished out his wallet.

“Well, you must have some prediction,” she yammered, “Mothers’ intuition!”

“I’m not sure,” you chuckled.

“A boy,” Lucas cheered quietly from beside you causing the elderly woman to smile.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, collecting the bags momentarily before your big strong boyfriend took them from stand, shooting you a look so as to ask why you even thought about carrying heavy grocery bags. A few strides in front of him and you were turning to him as the automatic doors parted.

“Is it that obvious?”

Though you were showing some, you thought the relatively loose sweater hid you enough- You still weren’t completely comfortable with the idea of being so... pregnant. Time was going so fast you felt yourself bloat day by day, suddenly you were walking around with a big bump to match the big oaf you were with.

Lucas’ eyes flitted around as he tried to figure out what you meant, a blank expression present as he waited for a car to pass.

“That she could tell I was pregnant...”

He gave you a once over followed by a nod and a hum of affirmation. You pursed your lips slightly before they puffed out in a small pout.

Pulling the seatbelt over yourself you were once again reminded of the large bump. You suddenly felt much fatter than you’d previously thought... Every so often Lucas cast you glances, noticing your quiet demeanor. He remained quiet for a long while, just taking in the atmosphere, mulling over what he should do or say- If he’d done anything to cause the situation or if was simply baby-hormones... Once home to two of you quietly put the groceries away, Lucas trying to make idle conversation, but your mood was just down...

Finally, he asks what’s wrong. You shake your head, but he knows something’s up so he keeps pestering about it, asking if it was him or-

“Nothing! I just don’t feel ready or good or anything!” you burst.

He tries his best to piece together what you mean, scratching his head slightly.

“Not ready for the baby?” he asks, stepping closer to look down at you closely, his large hands going to the front of your bump.

“I wasn’t ready to be pregnant and now I- It’s going so fast and- I feel so ugly and I didn’t think I was showing so much, but now everyone knows and I-”

He quieted you by moving his hands to either side of your face, pulling you into his chest gently. He didn’t say much, just held you, letting you whine into his chest in frustration.

He’d let you get it out and later try to cheer you up by being dorky and sweet then shower you in compliments like ‘uR the MoSt BeAUtiFuL gOrL N dA w0rLd BABIEE!’ Eventually I think he’d take on a more serious tone as well and tell you seriously you’re doing amazing and so beautiful, he loves you so much.

XiaoJun:

okay, this one is less planned & romantic tbh, but this is like my worst nightmare as a vain hoe..

No, that couldn’t be right- You were NOT pregnant. You’d always used condoms... There was still a chance, but so small you never thought it’d be you... You’d go out and buy another one. Maybe this test was just a dud- Yet there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your mind, you’d missed your period and felt pretty sick, which was why you’d chosen to take the test in the first place. What if you were pregnant? What would you do? The father could only be DeJun (or should we call him XiaoJun), your boyfriend of two years. What would he do? What would your parents do...? Neither of you were ready for that. You weren’t ready for that... Imagining yourself bloated and pregnant made you want to shrink into a ball. That couldn’t be you. You weren’t ready for your life to end so quickly. You saw the man you’d been waiting for, adjusting the strap of his shoulder bag as he perused the library in search of you.

“Xiao!” you called out in a rather loud whisper, trying to be discreet. Perhaps it’d been a bad idea to take the pregnancy test in the university bathroom

Once he saw you he bounded over to you, his thick brows knitting together once he saw your frazzled expression.

“So, where did you want to go? I was kind of craving Pho-”

You’d called him over but now you weren’t sure what to say... You couldn’t just tell him point blank right here- Should you?

“Or...” he pondered, taking in your silence, “Pizza?”

Yep, if you were with him you’d definitely get fat- Knowing him he’d want to do everything for you and pamper you even more than he already does- Definitely one to give into your cravings. It was still so early on, yet you were already too deep down the rabbit-hole.

“I- don’t want to- Do you know how many calories that is-?”

“So... You never cared before,” he teased, “Are you on a diet or something,” he asked hesitantly, his expression flattening.

You were still thinking what to do.

“You don’t need to,” he added, clasping your hands in his own, swinging them idly by your hips as he puffed out his lower lip.

OMG so, doesn’t exactly fit the scenario I guess, but it’s really hard to not make it repetitive,,, but you KNOW he’d be so caring and supportive. He’d tell you over and over you’re still just as pretty as before and that you’re overthinking, but if it’d make you feel better he’d assist you with dieting or light exercise, just to make your mental feel a bit better.

Hendery:

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

You nearly choked on the M&M between your lips at his sudden question.

“I think,” you paused, imaging him with a child in his arms for a moment, “I think you’ll be an amazing dad! I wouldn’t have let you get me pregnant otherwise-”

He guffawed, his chest vibrating against your back on the sofa as his forehead fell to the nape of your neck, his hand stilling on your hump as he collected himself. You giggled with him for a moment, eyes trained on the television as you dipped your hand into the bag of M&M’s once more.

“And I think you’ll be a great mom,” he informed, causing a blush to dust your cheeks.

At times it still felt unreal, that the two of you would be parents in just a few short months- Though technically you already were.

“I can imagine it,” he murmured, resting his cheek upon your hair as he spooned you, the television simply background noise as the two of you attempted to picture your futures.

Though you knew there were more important things than appearance, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself next to Hendery, married with a child... Though before being pregnant you still felt your body wasn’t good enough, you now realized how much you’d taken for granted - You couldn’t even wear pants comfortably... You wanted to envision yourself as your previous weight and body, but what if you could never- What if you could never feel confident again...?

“What are you thinking about?” Hendery prodded, just from his voice you could tell he was smiling.

“Nothing.”

Even though it gnawed at you, you felt stupid- It wasn’t important, but it was something you tended to selfishly hyper-focus on. You knew if you told Hendery he’d brush your worries aside, he was rather biased in that regard. You wondered if he saw envisioned you as back at your former weight or-? What sort of expectation did he have?

“I love you,” he murmured, almost tickling you with the way his fingers crawled across you, his bare feet toying with your own.

He had a way of putting all your worries to ease without trying- Without even telling him your concerns you felt relieved and loved. Turning a bit clumsily in his arms you faced him, his smile growing as your bump knocked into him.

idk im just super soft for him okayyyyyyyyyyy and trust him with my life

YangYang:

He’s so baby, I can’t imagine it-

You had a hard time seeing your own feet, craning your neck to see the numbers on the scale. With an exhale you stepped off. It was the heaviest you’d ever been; it was to be expected that you’d gain weight carrying a child and all, but seeing the digits didn’t feel great either.

“Oh- 2 kilograms (4.4 lbs) since last week- Our boy is growing big and strong,” YangYang smiled excitedly, his hand going to your stomach out of habit.

You weren’t so sure it was the baby growing- It was probably just you- The late night binges you’d had over the weekend making you feel nauseous just thinking about-

“Woah!” he exclaimed, steadying you for a moment.

“I’m fine,” you assured, voice bland.

“Let’s sit down,” he suggested, expression etched with concern.

If you fell, there’d be no promise he could come to your rescue- You felt you’d probably squash him.

“I’ve got you,” he assured nonetheless.

At your side he held your hip, his other holding your hand as he guided you from the bathroom. You just wanted to climb into bed, your eyes felt heavy.

“Easy,” he coaxed, positioning you to sit down on the side of the bed slowly.

Your own strength was zapped, unable to even push yourself to the pillows. He hesitated to even leave you, but quickly side-stepped to your other side, his back facing the headboard as he reached down, scooping you into his arms princess-style, sliding you upwards into a comfortable position as he knelt on the mattress. Your hand gripped his denim jacket deathly, scared for a moment he would drop you or fall into you due to your imbalance of weight.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, having no trouble.

He knew you were probably just scared in the moment, but he wanted you to trust and rely on him.

“I’m heavy-”

“Not really,” he retorted, comfortably positioning the pillows behind you for a moment.

“Actually,” his actions stilled, “I’m worried about you- You’ve become thinner,” he explained, pinching the flesh of your upper arm softly. He was just worried for both your health and the baby’s.

#yea can u tell i def ran out of ideas lowkey #wayv #wayv reaction #wayv fluff #nct #nct reaction #nct fluff #wayv angst #nct angst #?maybe #dad nct #dad wayv #lucas reaction #xiaojun reaction #kun reaction #winwin reaction #ten reaction #yangyang reaction #hendery reaction

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

Text

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 3

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 4k

content warnings: mention of rape and victim-blaming (talking about Clea's previous job in sex crimes— not her personal experience).

masterlist

this chapter is drawn from the season 1 episode 17 episode "A Real Rain," which is supposed to be in New York, but I didn't wanna write about New York so I changed it to Boston.

I drop a second sugar packet into my coffee before taking a tentative sip. my face twists in discomfort. previous to working here, I would bring my own thermos from home and it would last me all day, but I've had to up my caffeine intake to two or three cups.

"you get used to it." JJ walks over to me, steeping her tea. despite the fact that it's early, she's perfectly put together. her hair is tied up and her eyes are sparkling.

"how?" I laugh. she points to the coffee pot, which is fresh and yet somehow tastes slightly stale.

"when you've been up for twenty four hours, you won't care how it tastes."

I avert my widened eyes at this.

"you could do what Spence does and just add a bunch of sugars." she tilts her head towards Reid, who is rocking back in forth in his spinny chair with a huge volume open in front of him. he doesn't even notice us staring at him.

"ew, what?" I giggle. JJ nods.

"hey, Spence!" she calls across the office. his head pops up to frown at us.

"yes?"

"how many sugars do you use?"

"five. occasionally six." he says this without a hint of the shame it deserves. my eyebrows shoot up and I take another sip of the bitter drink, trying to ignore the taste. it coats my tongue.

"see?" she smirks. "just so you know, we have another case. meeting in five." she sashays away to the conference room, leaving me standing there with an overwhelming urge to sweeten my drink. I keep it at three and add a splash of creamer to drown out the bitterness, then walk briskly to my desk to grab a few of my things.

"we have a meeting, Reid." I say across the divider between our spaces. he holds up an index finger, slams the book shut, and grabs his things. I wait for him to get collected before we head up.

"what were you reading?" I ask, peeking at his workspace. books are lined up against the divider, loose papers scatter the surface, and there are three uncapped pens littered about. his disorganization surprises me.

"War and Peace." he replies, checking his watch.

it's not even nine am.

...

I'm staring out the window of the jet while Morgan and Prentiss battle out yet another card game with Reid. there's not much to see until we slice through clouds and fly over Boston, which is glittering in the early light. I sigh and turn back to my book, tucking my legs up beneath me.

"this is not how I planned to visit." Morgan notes, looks through his cards.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Boston." Spencer smiles softly. at this, all of us look up.

"you've never been?" Morgan asks doubtfully. Emily snorts.

"we've never had an unsub there." Reid doesn't seem to think this strange at all. Morgan and I share a glance before he speaks.

"Reid, it's an hour-and-a-half flight."

"I'll show you around if we have some time." Emily smiles reassuringly at the boy genius.

"it's an easy trip, man." Derek chuckles. Spencer isn't bothered by our teasing. instead, he draws another card from the deck and focuses on his game.

"I've never been either." I state. the team turns to me with surprised expressions, causing my cheeks to flush.

"you, too?" Morgan makes a face like I've disappointed him.

"I've been meaning to go." I shrug. "there's an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts that I wanna see."

"what exhibition?" Spencer doesn't look up from his hand.

"uh, Titus Kaphar." I haven't had the opportunity to travel much, so a lot of the art I've seen has been from a computer screen or in class in college. it would be nice to actually get some experience seeing things face-to-face.

"Shifting the Gaze!" Spencer's face snaps up to beam at me, referencing the piece so vehemently that it makes me laugh.

"yeah, exactly."

"I went to his talk a couple years back."

"no way. really?" I shut my book and lean forward while he nods. Prentiss and Morgan are watching our conversation like a tennis match. while Reid rambles about all the things he heard at the lecture, I listen intently. it's good, because I don't really feel like talking right now; my head is pounding all over again, and this is distracting.

"do you ever go to the art museums in DC, then?" I ask once he's finished. Reid gets this crooked smile on his face like he wants to say a bunch of things, but is holding his tongue. his face is animated when he tells me about the other exhibits he's seen at the Smithsonian and apparently abandons his cards. Prentiss and Morgan have lost interest in our conversation; they start their own game and let us talk for the rest of the flight.

when we touch down, I immediately feel overwhelmed by the crush of people around us. our first crime scene is a taxi cab in Hyde Park, where the driver has been blindfolded, shot in the chest, and stabbed right through his ear. the blade, broken off from the handle, is lodged in his brain.

despite the fact that his kills are violent and seemingly random, the unsub definitely isn't disorganized. he carries his MO out the same way each time, which makes all of us question if we've missed a connection between victims.

"it's possible he's a sort of serial killer groupie." Spencer notes as he examines the inside of the cab, which is splattered with a mix of rainwater from the night before and blood. I shift where I'm standing to try to follow his line of sight.

"what do you mean?"

"Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris drove ice picks into their victims' heads and broke off the handle." he explains.

"well, if he's doing that, then he's presenting a mixed profile." I frown.

"exactly."

"mixed profile?" the police officer next to me asks.

"yeah. the fact that this guy is shooting his victims first suggests that he needs a quick and effective means of controlling the situation, which means that he probably doesn't think he can overpower them." I say.

"he could have a physical problem-- or maybe he's just not confident because he's small." Reid is still examining the taxi for any further evidence, but it seems sort of pointless.

"plus, he's organized and hunts at night. that tells us he most likely has a steady job."

"so," the cop stares between us with a perplexed expression. "we're looking for a small, angry white guy with a day job?"

the sarcasm in his voice makes me smile a little.

"I know it doesn't narrow down a lot right now, but we know that this guy isn't blitz attacking his victims. it's more of an execution."

the officer nods at this and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turn to Reid.

"we gotta go."

Spencer nods curtly, straightens, and starts to immediately walk back to the car. I shake my head at his behavior, then follow after.

...

we get called to visit a new crime scene in the morning, this time in a church. Hotch holds the door open for me and I walk in to see a body laid out in front of the pews. an older woman sits towards the back, comforted by a nun.

"how'd they find him?" Prentiss asks the police chief as she leads us to the victim.

"night janitor." she nods to a man being questioned by cops in the corner.

"did he see anything?" I ask her.

"no, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier," we walk past the older woman. she stares at us expectantly as the chief talks. "so there could be a potential witness."

we stop at the body of a priest, his eyes covered and a blade lodged in his skull, unsurprisingly. Emily and I stare down at him, realizing the same thing.

"first public killing." she notes as she bends down to examine his wounds. "he's getting bolder."

"the presentation is just as important as the kill." I join her on the ground, snapping my gloves tighter on my hands and turning his head to the side to get a better look at the blade. semi-dried blood coats the tied fabric around his eyes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that woman." Emily leaves. the crime scene agent crouches down on the ground across from me, and I bite my lip before making a strange request.

"would you mind... sliding that thing out of his ear?"

the agent blinks at me in disbelief, probably not wanting to pry a knife out of someone's head, but nods and does so carefully. I squint down at the wound. then I realize something.

"Reid?" my voice carries across the room. Spencer is talking to an officer when he hears me and walks over.

"this doesn't look like a normal blade, but I don't know what it is." I point at the now half-buried weapon. it sits unpleasantly out, the blood catching warm light. Spencer gets down next to the crime scene agent and examines it more closely.

"this is flint." he says slowly, turning to me with a concerned expression.

"like the stone?"

"flint is the symbol for protection and retribution in Egyptian mythology. with hieroglyphics, they used to display dangerous animals like scorpions and snakes being cut with flint knives in order to render them powerless."

"oh." is all I can manage while I process what he's saying. Spencer waits for me to say something else, but instead I bend my head down to pull back the silk tie.

"there's no way that using flint is a coincidence." I reason. the blood is all on the inside of the tie as well, which gives me pause. Reid recognizes this a second later, his eyes lifting to mine. they look almost brown in the candlelight, flecks of gold sparkling in them while his mind whirs endlessly.

"I'm gonna call Garcia to see if any of the victims have been charged with a crime." he tells me.

"good idea." we both stand, the crime scene agent scurrying off to do something else. I head back over to Emily and hope that we're right about this. flint is too specific of a weapon for it not to be intentional, right?

...

we deliver the profile by the end of the work day, our unsub a serial vigilante with a personal edge to all of his killings. my body is slightly shaky from downing cups of coffee without any actual food, so the promise of eating out after we finish makes my stomach eager.

we go to a Chinese restaurant by the station and keep talking about the case, despite having promised ourselves not to do so. I sit between Prentiss and Reid while I dig into my dumplings. I like listening to them swap theories and past cases, how they weave together all their stories.

"you forgot to add something to the profile earlier today, Aaron." Rossi says as he piles more noodles onto his plate. our attention immediately focuses on the Italian.

"what did he forget?" Prentiss has a ghost of a smile on her face. I've noticed that she tends to speak like she's on the inside of a joke that other people don't understand. the intonation of her words feels like a secret.

"I didn't mention the possibility of our unsub being a cop." Hotch takes a sip of his ice water. there's a moment where we all reflect on this information before Morgan breaks the silence.

"I mean, they do know the system."

"they could easily take matters into their own hands, given what they see every day." Prentiss adds. I nod.

"when someone like our victim is killed, police refer to it as a public-service murder." Reid struggles to get the noodles onto his chopsticks, which I notice but don't say anything about. he tries again, the food slipping back onto his plate. Morgan notices this shortcoming of Spencer's and I see that he's about to start teasing him, so I change the subject.

"I saw a lot of rapists walk when I was in sex crimes," I put down my dumpling while I talk. Hotch watches me intently. I haven't spoken much about my previous job with anyone on the team, especially not him. in fact, he barely knows anything about me. "a lot of the victims didn't feel safe pressing charges, or the juries said they were asking for it. it's enough to make you wanna explode."

"it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing a murder, though, don't you think?" Emily asks.

"not really." I turn my gaze back to my plate and start to feel nauseous. there's a clinking of plates and silverware as we continue in silence. Emily nudges my arm gently with hers and offers me a supportive smile.

I hear Spencer next to me, getting the attention of a passing waiter.

"excuse me," he says in a low tone. "can I get a fork, perhaps?"

Morgan snickers as the waiter takes off to get the utensil. at this point, there's a palpable tension as we wait to see who makes fun of Reid first. he drops his chopsticks into his bowl with a defeated clatter and Derek gently pushes his knuckles against Spencer's cheekbone.

"having some trouble, kid?" he asks. Spencer smacks his hand away.

"don't be mean." I giggle, reaching onto my wrist to grab a hair tie. "here, try this." I wrap the thing around the end of Spencer's chopsticks so that they're easier to use, handing them back to him.

Spencer tries again and it works-- if not somewhat clumsily. he gives me a little appreciative smile and I smile back before returning to my food, listening to the stories that Rossi doles out. he even pays for dinner despite our half-hearted protests.

the entertainment for the evening is pretty nice, but when I've stuffed myself with Chinese food, Emily leans over to me.

"do you wanna go to that museum you were talking about earlier?" she whispers. I peek at my phone to check the time.

"I doubt we'd have much time before they close, but yeah, definitely." excitement bubbles up in my stomach as I realize I might actually get to poke around for a while. Prentiss throws her napkin on the table abruptly.

"Clea and I are going to the Museum of Fine Arts. anyone wanna join?"

I look around to gauge some reactions.

"I'm interested." Morgan nods.

"I've already been several times." Rossi takes a sip of his drink as he politely declines. Hotch shakes his head.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish."

"again?" Prentiss complains.

"I'll go." Spencer sits up straighter as he looks at his brunette friend, folding his napkin neatly on his plate. my eyebrows raise a little, although I'm not surprised that he'd be interested in visiting any museum. we stand and get ready to go; Hotch warns us to be ready to go at seven in the morning tomorrow. a little weight is lifted off my chest as I realize that there will be some reprieve during this case, and then we're wandering out into the evening air.

we ate dinner sort of early, so the sky is still slightly aglow with a bruised shade, preparing to sink into its favorite darkness. after finding the route to the museum, we hop on the train.

Boston is lovely in the kind of way that aches of neat corners and airy lights. stores crammed with antiques and novelty products line the sidewalks, people wander about as they take in a pleasant night. somehow disjointed and cohesive all at once.

whatever bit of conversation we had on the way dissipates into breathlessness once we get inside the enormous entryway. it's cavernous, extravagant, gorgeous. we flip through brochures advertising different exhibits. Emily raves about Impressionism and decides that that must be our first stop, so we head off with the rest of the museum stragglers who have decided to feed themselves with art until they're forced to leave.

my head is constantly spinning to admire something else in the enormous white rooms. it's a bit overwhelming at some points, what with the gargantuan canvases that greet me at every turn. but it's impressive, too, and I find myself hungrily reading all the small plaques. I venture out of the Impressionism vein and into Korean art, my feet carrying me away from Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer broke off a while ago; to where, I have no idea.

I check out vases and pottery, sculptures, renderings of historical events. images from the crime scenes fill my head intrusively. there's no use in trying to shut them out; they've been in my dreams for a while now, the kind that wake me up in a cold sweat. I haven't told anyone about them— I'm sure others get them, too— and I don't want to seem like I can't handle it. every time I close my eyes, I begin to feel the pressure of a knife against my temple.

"a lot of these are from private collections."

the voice causes me to jump, my skin erupting in goosebumps as Spencer stands beside me. he holds his bag against his side and follows my line of sight to the 18th-century bookshelf screen.

"that's interesting." I reply. what else is there to say to that?

"really makes you think about what other art pieces won't ever be seen by the public." he turns and starts walking onto the next work, seemingly done with this conversation. my brow furrows while I watch him go, his posture miserable as a result of his skinny build. he's quite tall.

"what do you mean?" my voice comes out quiet, but it carries in the otherwise empty exhibit. Reid turns around and stops in his place, allows me to catch up briefly. we start to read another plaque by a silver basin.

"you could have a Cézanne just rotting in your attic and it would never be examined by the right scholars." he shrugs.

"I really doubt there's anything nearing that value in my attic." I laugh.

"you ever seen 'Antiques Roadshow'?" he asks non-sarcastically. I balk.

"sure."

"you never know." he's not a man of many words, apparently. I get his message regardless and we continue to walk, him setting out facts for me in neat rows, simple and easily taken in. he's definitely a know-it-all, but not in the way that makes me want to escape his presence. it's sort of comforting, having someone around who just understands everything. his absolute lack of social graces makes him easy to be around, too; I don't need to force conversation because he doesn't care.

we wind up in the mummy section, where the walls tingle with an energy that could only be described as magical.

"spooky." I nod to the domineering sarcophagus lid of Kheperra. a spotlight illuminates all of its intricacies and I make a beeline for it. Spencer trails behind me and we fall into silence as we peer at the exquisite details. it's intimidating, for sure, hulking and made of carved black stone. "you feel that?" I whisper to Spencer, who is enthralled in the image.

the way the spotlight spills over onto him is interesting; it emphasizes the shadow below his jaw and the delicate quality of his bone structure, his cheekbone prominent at the place where his ear meets his face. his lashes are long and lovely, his Adam's apple poking out of a slender throat. he turns to me with a curious expression.

"feel what?"

"the energy change," I smile. "from the ancient dead bodies."

"it's probably just the dark lighting and the media associations you have with mummies." but his eyes begin flitting about the room in a slightly panicked manner. I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I step closer to him.

"are you scared?"

"no," he scoffs and makes a face like I've made the world's most absurd accusation. "why would I be scared?"

"because we're all alone in here..." I use a lower tone to freak him out a little. "who's to stop them from coming out and... snatching us?" when my hand snakes around behind him to pinch his arm, he jumps.

"what the--" he catches sight of the devilish grin on my face. "don't do that!"

"sorry, Einstein." I laugh and turn in the other direction, him following me to the next piece. Spencer doesn't seem to have more thoughts to give on the exhibition, probably still a little creeped out. part of me begins to feel guilty for startling him, even though he constantly does that to me. his footfalls are weirdly soft.

I wonder what Spencer is like outside of work. what he does when he gets back to his apartment. how could someone like him entertain themselves? maybe he just reads books until his eyes glaze over. he definitely doesn't go out often, but maybe he has other nerdy friends. I hope he does. there's something in his eyes that's too viscous for me to grasp, something swimming and pocketed. I'd like to understand it, although that doesn't seem like a great idea to pursue. he barely gives his closest friends information about his life.

we end up at opposite ends of the room, him still examining an entombed husband and wife couple while I check out a canonic jar. the silence in this room is tangible. I wasn't lying when I felt an energy shift— it's like gold and clay and it smells like cracked cinnamon.

I'm trying to get a better look at the detailing when I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm, easily encircling it. I jolt.

Spencer stands behind me with a playful smile, like he's quite pleased with himself.

"Reid!" I yank my arm away from his long fingers and see him let out that rare laugh. it's pleasant and fills the room with a warmer light as I rub my arm where his fingers held me. I'm surprised he was willing to touch me at all; it's pretty obvious that he's got a problem with germs, which is understandable.

"who's scared now?" he tries to defend himself with his palms when I reach out to gently smack his shoulder.

"you know, I was starting to feel bad for you." I laugh. he smiles brightly and keeps walking into the next room. I realize that the way we move is like two weighted ends of a string. he drifts out on his own, I follow, and vice versa.

I appreciate that he's beginning to loosen up around me, so much so that he smiles at a joke I make in the English Regency section. we walk quickly to absorb as much as we can before the museum closes, but we still don't get through all of it. Spencer isn't much of a conversationalist, and he doesn't really need to be. he listens to me talk, I listen to his erudite observations, smiling when he uses certain terms that sound like they're from someone much older.

by the time a curator tells us we have to go, we've completely lost Prentiss and Morgan and end up meeting back at the entrance. it's pitch black outside; Boston is still bustling, except my legs are tired and I'm ready to crash in bed. we have another packed day tomorrow.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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icanshouyoutheworld · 4 years ago

Text

Bakugou x fem!reader // ch.1

This is a style of fanfic I'm experimenting with - please let me know if you want more! Also, my inbox is open for haikyuu and bhna requests!

It’s been years since you’ve seen either Bakugou or Midoriya. You can’t help but think of them now, as you pedal down the street towards U.A. It’s your first day of school, having gotten in through recommendation, and a roiling mix of excitement and nerves rolls through your stomach.

You bet Bakugou will be there. At U.A, you mean. Back when you were all kids it’s all he went on about, wanting to be a hero, wanting to be the next All Might. Which, really, would have been all well and good if he wasn’t such a bastard to everyone he met. To Midoriya, in particular. You can clearly remember, even now, the way he’d kept himself on a pedestal above Midoriya at all times. Never taking an offered hand, never stopping to consider the weight of his actions and the damage they left behind.

You’d lost contact with the both of them during middle school after having moved away. It was only to the next city over, but it was far enough that you’d had to go to a different middle school. At first you’d kept contact with the both of them, willingly with Midoriya and grudgingly with Bakugou. You’d tried to put the two of them in a group chat with you but Bakugou wouldn’t have it and left immediately. Not long after that, you completely lost contact with him.

You always wondered how he was doing, but you weren’t sure if it was out of nostalgia for times-gone-by or genuine concern. Either way, Midoriya hadn’t ever really said more than the standard kacchan is doing just fine!! and not long after that you lost contact with him, too. You later heard from a friend who knew people at their middle school that Bakugou had broken Midoriya’s phone and, though you didn’t believe that the boy who kept a note of everything hadn’t thought to take a note of your phone number, you didn’t push it and eventually let it go.

That’s just how life goes really, people come and go.

Until now anyways.

You’re almost certain that Bakugou is somewhere beyond the giant, gleaming doors to the entrance of U.A.

You release a slow breath; nervous but unable to fight the wide smile.

You’re finally here, afterall. After dreaming about U.A for so many years, dreaming of entering the hero course, you were finally about to live the reality.

By the time you’ve made it to the sliding door of 1-A your heart is thudding in your chest. From the stairs or from the apprehension? You don’t really know. You’re not sure you care, either. The elation of actually being here trumps everything else.

“I can do this,” you murmur under your breath. You place a hand over your chest, above your heart, feeling it pound and channelling that fear into excitement. I’ve got this, you think. I can do this.

You curl your fingers into the handle and slide the door open.

Bakugou is there. You were right.

But thinking he was going to be there is one thing, actually seeing him is something else entirely.

He looks exactly how you remember him. Older, sure, but he’s exactly the same.

Your stomach bottoms out, your throat goes dry. You don’t know what to think, what to feel. You know you should be pissed off. Pissed off for how he treated Midoriya over the years, pissed off for how he refused to keep in contact with you.

But you aren’t. If anything, you’re a little taken off-guard by how good-looking he is.

As soon as the thought registers in your mind, Bakugou’s eyes meet yours.

They’re a burning red, and the intensity of his stare startles you for a second. A tall boy with glasses is lecturing him, clearly unperturbed by the fact that Bakugou is no longer paying him any attention and continuing to rant about Bakugou’s obviously-unchanged bad attitude.

Bakugo is sitting leaned back in his seat, his right leg thrown haphazardly up onto his desk, his hands stuffed low in his trouser pockets. He isn’t wearing a tie, his shirt is untucked and unbuttoned at the top, looking the absolute picture of disobedience.

Though, you can’t help the way that your eyes are drawn to the rounded points of his collarbones that are framed in the V of his open collar.

Bakugou still hasn’t spoken, neither have you. The students in the room continue talking, the world continues spinning, but you and Bakugou are frozen.

He slowly lowers his leg off the table, leans forwards and opens his mouth as though to say something but is immediately cut off.

“y/n?” A voice says behind you. You jolt in surprise, not having expected anyone to come up behind you, and the voice immediately registers. It’s deeper than you remember, but there’s no mistaking it.

“Midoriya?” You say, with all the incredulity you were trying desperately not to show. You definitely hadn’t expected Midoriya to be here. He didn’t even have a quirk! Unless… unless, he’d lied to you? But… No. Midoriya wouldn’t lie to you like that, would he?

“Deku?” Clearly you weren’t the only one in shock. “How the fuck did you get in?” Katsuki yells, his voice as gruff as it is in your memories of him.

“I-” Midoriya starts. Bakugou’s desk squeals across the floor as he stomps to his feet and shoves it away in a burst of power. Whatever haze of surprise had come over his face when he saw you was long-gone now, replaced by blazing fury and gritted teeth. The skin between his eyebrows pinches as he furrows them in anger. Midoriya squeaks as Bakugou grabs him by the front of his shirt.

“You don’t even have a fucking quirk, stupid Deku!” Bakugou growls.

“Y-yes, I do!” Midoriya shouts back, standing his ground despite the tremor in his hands and unsteadiness of his voice. “You saw it!”

“You-”

“I earned this!” Midoriya continues, cutting Bakugou off. “I can become a hero!”

Bakugou sucks in a sharp breath, up close you don’t miss the flash of hurt across his face. He feels betrayed, you realise. The same as you do. You don’t hate Midoriya for it, you don’t even know what his quirk is. Maybe it just materialised late? But you can’t shake the uneasiness lodged in your gut.

“I see you haven’t changed one bit?” You snap at Bakugou, sucking your teeth with a sharp tut and yanking Bakugou’s arm from Midoriya’s uniform.

“What’s it to you, y/n?” Bakugou says sharply, shoving Midoriya away with a deft movement just to show he can. Midoriya stumbles back into the corridor for a moment, before righting himself and sheepishly fixing his clothing.

“Ah, right. So you do remember me, then? I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at Bakugou. Though, on the other side of the corridor sunlight is catching the swirling motes of dust, making them glitter the sort of gold that seems to set them on fire. Bakugou’s hair is caught in the light, in the gold, fly-away strands of his already unruly spikes glowing with it. It’s distracting, for a second you half-forget you’re meant to be angry.

“Ah! You got in! I knew you would!” A girl has come up behind them, her bag bouncing against her back as she jumps up and down, cheering for Midoriya. As frustrated as you are with him, you’re glad at least Midoriya seems to have made a decent friend.

With a loud huff, Bakugou turns away. He shoulder barges you, very obviously on purpose as he returns back to his seat but you don’t give him the satisfaction of stumbling to the side. He’ll need to try harder than that if he wants to get you off-balance. You’re nothing like the girl he treated like an underling when you were kids. Given the right opportunity, you were more than confident that you could kick his ass, knock him down a peg. God knows he needs it.

“This isn’t a place for socialising,” another voice drones from behind you and, really, you need to stop letting people creep up on you like this. First Midoriya, then his friend, and now… Ah. The teacher. Well. You can’t really fight with that.

Although, teacher may be a stretch. You recognise Aizawa immediately, even through the mess of black hair covering his face in mussed clumps from where he lays on his side in a bright yellow sleeping bag. He looks like some sort of overgrown larvae.

“This is the hero course,” he says flatly, pointedly sucking a pouch of juice empty for emphasis. “It’s taken you far too long to quiet down.” He slowly peels himself out of the sleeping bag and gets to his feet. “Time’s precious, you lot are wasting it.”

Aizawa pins you with a dry look and you hurry to take a seat. Which unfortunately turns out to be the one right behind Bakugou. All of the other’s are taken, though. Midoriya and his friend had rushed for a seat at the same time, and managed, somehow, to seat themselves before you.

Bakugou’s eyes follow you as you walk around him to your desk. His lips are pursed in a scowl, his nostrils flaring slightly as though he’s restraining himself from something. His shoulders bunch tensely as I sit behind him.

“I’m your homeroom teacher,” Aizawa continues. “It’s nice to meet you. Now, put your gym clothes on and head to the grounds.”

Bakugou’s back jolts with a scoff you don’t hear.

Then, he turns his head. His profile catches in the light, catches the red of his eyes, giving them a rich, liquid quality. A shadow accentuates his sharp jawline as he speaks.

“You’re going fucking down,” he threatens, not once breaking eye-contact.

You stand from your seat and, before you can even question where the confidence has come from, you slap his shoulder as you walk past him.

“You can try.” You wink.

#bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #mha fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou imagine

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anobscurename · 4 years ago

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

PART I | PART II | PART III

concept: a collection of happenings, but there do happen to be a lot of references to the other parts. it’s just plotless fluff at this point. the slowest of slow burns. there will be many more parts. this is your moving in – finally – and the welcome party that follows.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: a lot of teasing, ice cream, dirty thoughts, and a touch of sexual frustration.

author’s note: so this is part four, and we finally have some mackie and stan action! also, because i believe in all ice cream flavour superiority, i have left a little “choose your own response” thing. select whichever one fits you as the reader :)

“Is that the last of it?”

“I think so.” You were breathless from the move, boxes covering almost every viable flat surface of your new bedroom.

Chris had himself a rather nice house up on the Hollywood Hills, and through one of the many windows, you glimpsed the shimmering reflection of a spacious pool. The residence boasted three bedrooms, and now one was yours. It was enough to make your head spin.

“I’ll let you get settled, then,” Chris smiled, his hand finding your shoulder in a gesture that suggested nothing more than friendship – one which your body reacted to as something more. His hand was warm, and you hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that rose on your arms at his very touch. The scent of him invaded your nostrils, utterly intoxicating.

You folded your arms across your chest hoping to disguise the sudden gooseflesh. There was something about him that made your hair stand on end, but in a purely unadulterated good way – some kind of magnetic energy that made you want his hands encompassing every inch of your body, committing it to his memory. When he retracted his hand, you hoped he hadn’t seen the slump of your shoulders in soft disappointment.

He had.

And if you had been paying more attention to him, and not your own suddenly raging hormones, then you wouldn’t have missed the smirk that quirked his lips at the visible effect he appeared to have on you.

“Don’t take too long, though,” he added by the doorway. The mere glimpse you caught of his cheekbones in profile had your breath stuttering erratically, even more so than the weight of your neatly packed boxes ever hoped to achieve. “We have a welcome party to get to in a few hours.”

——————

The welcome party, you were to discover later, was a party of two – just you and your cab thief – to be later joined by two of his friends who happened to be in L.A.

You banished any and all thoughts of it being a date or not this time, and found yourself much more put at ease by it once you had set your resolve. You were his friend – barely even that, if you would let yourself admit it – nothing less, nothing more. And what type of date would it be with his friends there, in any case?

So outfit choice came easy. If you were to be living together, he would inevitably become accustomed to you looking borderline homeless at times, and should the occasion call for it, like an absolute goddess the next. And so your selection of clothing came effortless, settling for something in between: a homeless goddess.

You didn’t know where Chris was taking you, so the selected aesthetic happened to be minimalistic makeup and a black jumpsuit that could either be dressed up or down, but looked classy all the same. You decided to dress it down – pairing it with a pair of old worn in Docs you had on hand – and one look at him – as he waited patiently for you on the couch – you knew you had made the perfect choice.

He had his legs crossed, ankle balancing on knee as he bounced his leg subconsciously. Dodger’s head was in his lap as he absentmindedly petted him. His legs were clad in dark wash jeans, tailored to fit him perfectly, and his torso sported a dark blue button up under a brown leather jacket. His hair was slicked back – either from a shower or from styling product, only time would tell.

Hell, he’d even shaved for this, his face appearing much more boyishly charming than anything now.

It took a moment for you to register that Steve Rogers and Chris Evans were two different people, what with him sat there in an ensemble he must’ve stolen from the costume department.

It was Dodger that noticed you first. He had taken quite the liking to you when you first arrived – three hours ago, to be precise – and it had taken almost half an hour to get him to leave your room so you could begin in the tedium of unpacking. He had been practically inconsolable, and had scratched at your door for another ten minutes after until Chris eventually decided to spend some time with him out in the garden to distract him from your loss. You knew you and the boxer were going to be fast friends. Especially now that his tail was pounding furiously in its wagging, beating the couch cushions into submission. It was then that Chris noticed you, too.

He turned his head, and time seemed to slow. A second felt drawn into an hour as he took you in. There was an imperceptible, intranslatable crease in his brow before it slackened and his face broke into a soft, boyish grin. “Wow,” he said softly.

“Is it… too much? I can go change if–”

“No!” He cleared his throat, his hurried response jarring enough to make even Dodger cock his head. “No, you look perfect. Beautiful. Great.”

His smile was contagious and you found your face splitting into a delighted beam. “You’re one to talk. You clean up nice, Captain Armani.”

He rose from the couch. Dodger followed him off to bound up to you and give your hand a soft lick. Under his breath, you could hear Chris scoff at the Captain Armani tease. “You ready to go?”

“Um, yeah… What about Dodger though? Will he be alright?”

“He’ll be fine. We won’t be out long anyways,” Chris winked – more so to Dodger than you, but that did nothing to stave off the shiver that ran unbidden down your spine. “I promise.”

——————

Chris took you to a restaurant first – nothing fancy, and very clearly nothing too romantic, that was certain; corroborated by the subtle sink of your heart – before you both began your pleasant evening stroll, vaguely in the direction of the “hidden gem” dive bar him and a few of his friends had found when he’d moved to L.A.

It would be an unfaithful recounting of events if you said it hadn’t been a bit awkward at first, but soon enough, you’d both found your footing, and the quick witted teasing and fast fire rapport was almost second nature to the both of you.

“Favourite Disney character, and if you say you don’t have one, you can find somewhere else to live.”

The mirth in his eyes suggested he was joking, but there was an edge to his voice that said otherwise. He was serious to some extent, and for some unfathomable reason, you refused to let him down. Also because you really didn’t have a place to go should this all go sideways. You mentally made a reminder to have a fail safe contingency plan if things got messy – not that they would; you were insistent on that.

“It happens that I’m in luck, then,” you retorted. “Because as it so happens, I have a top five.”

You rattled off your list, loving the way Chris’ smile grew impossibly wider at each name drop.

Your conversation – more a debate on who was the badder bitch: Mulan, Moana, or Elsa – took a natural halt outside a cute hole-in-the-wall ice cream parlour. Suddenly, memories of the first time you met came flooding back.

“Cookies and cream, right?”

He arched a brow in confusion.

“Your favourite ice cream flavour. It was cookies and cream.”

“You remembered.”

It was enough to make you laugh, the surprise in his voice. “Of course I would. You tried to convince me it was the best in the world. Stupidly so, considering [I already am an avid cookies and cream worshipper] // [my allegiances lie with {insert favourite ice cream flavour here}].”

“Yeah, yeah. Do you want some? Before we go and meet Seb and Anthony?”

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged.

He gave you a playful nudge of the elbow and headed to the counter. The order came quick, and soon you were back on your slow crawl to the pub, ice cream already starting to sweat and melt in the sugarcone.

You watched in amusement as Chris all but moaned in ecstasy as he devoured the cookies and cream. The sound was enough to make you moan yourself, but the sight – well, that was a more humourous one to behold. He ate like a starving man, and some dark recess of your mind wondered what else he might be inclined to eat with such passion–

He had caught you staring, and he paused his ministrations. “What?”

“Nothing.” You had tried to stifle your giggle with ice cream, and it had turned into a cough, and now you were outright laughing at him. “Don’t stop on my account, I just think you and your dessert should find a room if you’re going to be so vocal about your pleasure.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want some?” He smirked, offering you his mangled ice cream scoop, half gone already.

“I’ve got my own, I think I’ll survive.” The wink came natural with your response.

“No, really, you should try some.”

“It’s just hard to take you seriously. With all the ice cream on your face.”

He paused, confusion halting his steps. And rightfully so – he still remained immaculate, not a speck out of place. “Where?”

“Right…” – you suddenly grabbed his unsuspecting hand, still clutching his treat, and smeared the icy cold goodness on the side of his cheek – “there!”

Your howl of laughter was short lived as he slowly wiped the ice cream from his face before turning his attention to you. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

It wasn’t menacing by any means, more playful, but when he came at you with his ice cream cone, every intent of menace was there. You were wearing black, after all, and a stain from that cream was going to be glaringly visible for the entire bar excursion.

Easily dodging his attack, you darted to the side and held your own ice cream out, hoping it would keep him at bay. He still advanced, and you knew you were screwed.

So you said fuck it, and ran.

Luckily, you had already been quite close to the bar, and although you wouldn’t be able to tell them where exactly it was should a stranger ask you in passing, you recognized the name on the sign easily enough. Taking one last mournful bite of ice cream, you discarded the rest in a garbage can, it proving more a hindrance to your escape than a good weapon.

Exhilaration flowing through you, peels of laughter leaving your lips, you burst into the bar, hoping you’d be safe. The patrons paid you no mind as you whipped around, eyes cautiously on the door, awaiting your doom.

Chris burst in not soon after you, both of you breathless. He had lost the ice cream along the way too, and with that immediate danger gone, you felt yourself visibly relax.

Among your panting breaths, you chuckled. “Truce?”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Truce.”

“Hey, Evans! Over here!”

Both of you turned your attention to the man who spoke. Sat side by side in a booth, waiting for your arrival, was the ever gorgeous Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, the latter having risen to wave you over.

Your heart stuttered at the sheer bizarreness of it all.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “How do I look?”

“You look great.” When you gazed up at Chris, there was a softness to his eyes and a gentleness to his smile. It astounded you how playful and teasing he could be one second, and how heartachingly genuine he could be the next. “Except…”

Your eyes widened. “Except?!”

He chuckled, reaching out a tentative thumb. When you didn’t pull away, he proceeded. One, large and wildly beautiful hand resting on your cheek, the thumb grazing your lip, you had to remind yourself that you had just run for your life and that was the reason for your heart threatening to break free from your chest – nothing more. But there they were again, the goddamn goosebumps. You shivered, undetectable to him, but what felt like earthquake tremors to you.

He swiped away the leftover ice cream that had been clinging to your lips, and, without a second thought, brought his thumb to those perfect lips of his. Time seemed to slow as you watched him lick and suck the ice cream off his finger, his eyelids fluttering, long lashes fanning closed.

And then the spell broke as he gave you a reassuring and completely friendly smile, unfazed at all by what had just transpired. “There. Much better.”

——————

Anthony was bewildered. “Wait, so he stole your cab?”

“And you let him?” Seb had paused while chalking his cue.

“She never let’s him forget…” Chris grumbled under his breath, taking a languid sip of his beer.

That earned him a mutual eye roll from you and Sebastian, and a look passed between you.

“What a baby,” you mouthed to him from across the pool table.

“I know!” He mouthed back with a smirk while sinking down to line up his next shot.

After an initial round of drinks, you and the boys eventually found yourselves migrating to the pool table. Anthony and Seb were the only ones playing, having gotten to the bar earlier than you and Chris and were pleasantly buzzed by the time you two had entered. Chris and you decided to sit the first round out, instead opting to drink a little more before.

“And then he followed you into an alleyway and you didn’t kick him in the dick?” Anthony gave Seb a pat on the shoulder in consolation when he missed the shot, but still had his attention focused on you, and the unravelling series of events that had led you to this moment.

Seb, still cursing from his failed shot, straightened from the table. “He would’ve been kicked in the dick the moment he tried to steal my cab, I can tell you that.”

Anthony and Sebastian found your story far more amusing than you ever did, but the more you spoke about it with them, the funnier it became.

“Well, it’s not so bad. I got to meet you guys.” You raised your beer in cheers.

Seb pressed a hand to his heart, mouthing a soft “aaw”, while Anthony, although smiling his adorable gap-toothed grin, rolled his eyes. “Man, get the hell out of here with that sappy shit.”

You laughed, hopping off your bar stool. “Alright, come on, it’s my turn. You’re all fucking it up, it really can’t be that hard…”

——————

Apparently it could be that hard. And you weren’t talking about the team of doubles pool game unfolding in front of you…

You were bent over the pool table, lining up your next shot. And Chris was…

His body was pressed against yours, leaning against you, every bit as warm as you expected, and rock hard with taut muscles that you could feel individually ripple at every movement. The smell of him – something delicious and indescribable – was all around you. Affable hands – leaving a blazing trail of goosebumps in their wake – travelled down to cover your own as he “helped you” play pool.

He was speaking low, directly into your ear, each husky word shiver inducing as every so often his lips would brush the shell of your ear as either he or you shifted.

“Nice and steady. Keep your eye on the ball,” he murmured throatily. The hand that wasn’t assiting your grip on the cue idly fell to land on the dip of your waist, travelling down to rest on the curve of your hip – searing hot through your jumpsuit. “Just like that…”

You involuntarily moved beneathe him, and you felt him stiffen. He cleared his throat, the rasp still tinted in his voice, eyes hooded with something unknown.

He drew back, leaving you cold and wanting – but much more clear headed. It wasn’t entirely lost on you, the way he shuffled uncomfortably, having to adjust his jeans – particularly around the crotch area.

“You know, Evans,” you smirked. “If I needed your help, I would’ve asked for it.”

To punctuate your point, you sank the ball you’d had your eye on, and, in quick succession, sank another.

He watched you, captivated, mouth slightly agape. “I…”

You shot Mackie a wink over the table as you missed the next shot, but managed to position the eight ball right in front of his and Seb’s most favoured pocket, effectively screwing them over. He groaned, but nodded and slow clapped in appreciation of the duplicity. You mockingly curtseyed to him, before handing the cue to Chris for his shot.

“Don’t worry,” Seb said, clapping Chris on the shoulder. “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.”

#chris evans #anthony mackie #sebastian stan #chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans/reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #dina writes #ocean eyes #part 4

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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

Text

Breaking Out

Peter Quill x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1797 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Reader is the only other Terrain that Peter has ever met as an adult. They bond in prison and when the others escape, he takes her with him.

——————————————————————————————————

The universe was vast and wide, with planets and worlds unknown to even the most well-versed within it.

It was for that reason alone that Peter had never come across another terrain in all of his travels. After all, abductions didn’t really take place often on earth.

However, there was no denying that you were, in fact, human.

As soon as Peter saw you across the common room of the Kyln, he knew it. There would be no way to confuse it, but that didn’t make it any easier to understand.

He had no idea how you’d gotten here or what business you had here. There was only one thing that he knew for sure, and that was that he had to meet you.

There was no way he could pass up the chance to meet the only other terrain he’d ever seen here.

You were, by no means, welcoming when he approached where you were sitting. You were surrounded by inmates, on any side but that wasn’t the thing that really got to him.

More than anything, it was the look in your eyes when you finally saw him.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen and he actually had to stop himself from audibly gulping. You were both amazingly scary, and amazingly beautiful…

A dangerous combination for a man like Quill.

As soon as he made it to the table, all conversation stopped, with each and every organism there waiting for some sort of development.

“Um, hi” he started, giving you a small wave that could have only been taken as some sort of odd attempt at bonding with you. It didn’t do too good of a job though, because you said nothing.

“They call me Starlord, what’s your name?” he tried this time, shrugging off the hesitation and awkwardness. That was one of the best things about him, that nothing could deter him from getting what he wanted.

Even the way you were looking at him right now.

“Y/N” you allowed, waiting for him to get to the point. At this moment, you had no idea what he was even doing here, especially considering the fact that most of the inmates here could snap him in half.

Still, you had to admire his determination.

“Nice, what are you in for? Murder? Theft?” Peter hummed, taking a guess, assuming that you’d pick from the list if he kept going.

...But you didn’t even motion to stop him.

It was much more fun to just watch him try to guess.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. Can I help you with something? You wondered, hoping to circumvent whatever long, drawn out conversation he was about to involve you in.

Whatever it was that he wanted, you just wanted to get it out of the way before you had to stab him. You didn’t want to spend another night in solitary.

“Oh no, I just thought I’d introduce myself. I’ve never met another terrain before-at least, not off of earth” he explained, inevitably starting another tangent that you’d get caught up in.

It was fair, especially because when you stopped to think about it, you realized that you hadn’t either. Though, this wasn’t some book club where you were all just going to be friends.

...This was an interstellar prison.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Starlord” you allowed, standing from where you had been seated to head back to your cell. You’d had enough small talk for now.

Anyone else would have taken that interaction as a hint that you weren’t in the mood to be bothered, but not Peter. In fact, as you walked away, all he could think about was talking to you again.

“Making friends there, Quill?” Rocket teased, watching you walk alongside him.

They all knew that you were going to kill him, it was only a matter of time.

...Not that Peter seemed to mind.

The opportunity to talk to you didn’t come until much later, in the midst of their escape plan.

The alarms were blaring all over the prison, and you, like most of the other inmates, had left your cell to see what the commotion was.

However, before you could gather much information at all about what was going on, Starlord came racing around the corner with a prosthetic leg in hand.

It made no sense at all, but you knew better than to ask. Knowing what you did about the stranger, it would just buy you way too much information.

“Oh hey Y/N, what’s up?” he greeted, doing his best to be casual, like he wasn’t in the middle of something absolutely ridiculous.

Though to be fair, you were pretty sure that only he could.

“What did you do?” You asked, cocking your hip out to the side, that look on your face that he was already painfully familiar with. You were always so critical, even when you didn’t have to be.

...Not that he minded.

“We’re breaking out of here, you wanna come?” he offered, a grin finding its way onto his face as he held his hand out to you. It was a hell of an offer, and you weren’t going to pass it up.

He may have been an absolute fool and you would certainly regret what you were about to do but you weren’t going to stay here if you didn’t have to.

Besides, you knew that if you didn’t leave now, you would probably be stuck here for the rest of your life. So, even though you knew it was the worst decision you would probably ever make, you took his hand.

Racing down the halls alongside him was the biggest rush you’d ever had, and by the time you were safely locked within the pod, you had no regrets about your decision.

Just in time to realize that it wasn’t just the two of you escaping.

In fact, there were quite a few bodies in the cramped space. Bodies that you realized you recognized after taking in each of their faces.

“You all got brought in from Xandar, right?” You clarified, pretty sure this was the entire crew he’d been transferred in with. Were they friends? You had never seen a group of criminals react that way.

Gangs were common within members of the same species and those from the same planet but not like this. These people were almost acting as if they cared about each other’s well being and it was strange.

Though, not altogether unwelcome.

You had never been a part of anything like this and it provided an interesting opportunity. If nothing else, you knew that they could easily be cut loose if you got into a jam and that was always nice to know in companions.

“Yeah, that’s Drax, Gamora, Rocket, and the tree in the corner is Groot” he shrugged, as if that was all the explanation you would need...and really, it was.

You had come across a number of interesting creatures in your travels and Groot was the more tame of the bunch. The far corners of the galaxy offered some really heinous looking creatures.

Though, you had to imagine that none among them had ever seen them.

“Alright, well I guess we’re gonna be spending a little bit of time together-I’m Y/N” you nodded, sitting down at the pilots helm without a shred of hesitation next to Rocket.

You had sort of just assumed that you would be in control of this situation, but everyone else in the crowded ship simply stared at you, making it clear that wasn’t implied. One thing was for sure…

This was going to be a long ride.

Bonus:

You had been sitting on the ship for a few hours, at this point, in silence, when Peter decided that this was as good a time as any to break the ice.

“That was kinda crazy, right?” he laughed, sitting down beside you on the floor without a second thought. You wished he would have asked for permission to join you so that you could remain alone a little longer, but he didn’t.

Peter clearly wasn’t the kind of guy to ever know when he was uninvited.

“You’ve never broken out of prison before?” you commented, shocked if that was the case. Peter seemed like the kind of man that had been running from the law all his life, but he was also sort of clumsy and goofy.

It seemed like he would have gotten caught before now, though he shook his head, telling you that he hadn’t.

Interesting.

“They’re not gonna bother tracking us down, as long as we keep a low profile” you allowed, knowing exactly how it would go. The guards didn’t have to care about where a few lowlifes went as long as you didn’t make it easy to find you again.

Which meant no petty crime for a little while.

“How are you though? Doing alright?” he wondered, doing his best to move on to a different topic. Peter was trying to get to know you better and he wasn’t going to do that with some casual prison talk.

He wanted to know about who you were as a person.

...But you weren’t sure how to respond.

You hadn’t been expecting Peter to ask you something so personal but the most shocking thing about it was that you actually wanted to answer. There was just something about him that you couldn’t ignore, something that made you want to open up to him.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that very few people asked you how you were feeling as a general rule, but Peter just wouldn’t stop. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he reminded you of home.

He reminded you of a life before you had been whisked away to space.

“I’m alright, it’s been a while since I’ve been out” you shrugged, figuring there was no harm to letting him in a little bit. After all, he had proved to you that he cared enough to ask you about your feelings, so giving him a little bit wouldn’t kill anybody.

...It was true that it wasn’t much.

However, it was a little bit of leeway that Peter could use to get to know you better than he would have been able to before this. After all, he couldn’t just let the only other terrain he’d ever met slip on by without trying to understand you.

If he did, he would never forgive himself.

“Don’t worry, you won’t ever have to go back again. Just stick with me” he hummed, grinning at you with that cheesy smile he always wore. The craziest part though, was that when he said it, you believed him.

194 notes · View notes

audreysfabulousblog · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine Being Pregnant with Jimmy Darling’s child

Relationship: Jimmy Darling x Reader

Fandom: AHS (Freak Show)

Warning: language, insecurities, nothing you wouldn’t see on the show tbh

Word Count: 2,556

Author’s Notes: I’ve never posted my writing on this blog and I’ve never written for AHS. I’ve been watching pregnancy announcement videos because they’re so pure and cute. And I just finished Freak Show yesterday and love Jimmy Darling. So, when this idea popped into my head, I had to write it! Thought I’d share as I don’t see too many imagines for him and idk, why not? Also not edited so don’t come for me lol

Jupiter was too hot. It had a heat you weren’t used to and if it wasn’t for the job a friend of a friend had found for you - a job you desperately needed - you wouldn’t have ever come to this tiny little town. You’d never have wondered off to see the freak show that your co-workers insisted on dragging you along with them to as it was the most exciting thing to happen in Jupiter since the first movie theater opened about fifteen years ago. That’s where you met him.

Jimmy Darling.

You spotted him by the tent, just walking by as you all filed in from the heat outside. He was wearing a simple white tank top and jeans. It was just a glimpse of him but you could tell by his side profile he was handsome. Your heart fluttered a little at the thought of such a handsome young man here tonight.

When he stepped out onto the stage after the announcement of “Lobster Boy,” you stared. His eyes scanned out into the crowd. He’d tell you later that he’d learnt to scan outwards over the tops of people’s heads to avoid seeing their faces. To avoid seeing them stare at his hands. The bright spotlight usually helped but the seats your friends and gotten weren’t good and the light of the spotlight faded when it reached you.

Your friends giggled when they saw him look a you. You blushed at the attention, both that of your friends and his. But Jimmy said he stared because when his eyes swept over towards you, automatically catching sight of the faces of the people not blinded in the spotlight (a reaction he couldn’t stop from happening though he often tried to avoid the sight of the shocked horror or cruel laughter at his hands), he found himself stuck. Your eyes weren’t on his hands. You seemed enraptured by in his face. And when you noticed your staring was caught, your blush confused him, shocked him, exhilarated him.

It wasn’t long before he found you after the show. It wasn’t long before he took you on a date. It wasn’t long before he captured your heart.

It was too hot. The sun glared down at you as you leaned against Jimmy’s trailer. Your mind replayed your meeting over and over as you waited for him to come back from his errand for Elsa. You closed your eyes. It was too hot to think.

But think you had to and had been doing for the past week. Ever day and every hour of those days was spent thinking. You couldn’t sleep since you got the confirmation from the doctor.

Your period was late. At first you told yourself it was stress. You tried not to think about it. But you knew. And then the doctor said it was so and you had no other choice but to think about it.

How would Jimmy react? What would you do depending on it? You didn’t want to raise your child with the freak show. You saw how they were treated. You didn’t want it near Elsa. But this was Jimmy’s home and they were good people. But you didn’t want this life for your child. But what about what Jimmy wanted? Or didn’t.

“What’s a frown like that doing on a girl as beautiful as you?” Jimmy’s voice came from a little ways away.

You opened your eyes to see him walking your way. He had his beautiful wide smile on his handsome face. You hoped the baby looked like him.

As you went to push yourself off the trailer, Jimmy placed each hand firmly against the metal either side of your body, forcing you to stay in place. The space between you closed quickly as he pressed himself against you. His smile still in place as his eyes drank you in.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said in that tone of his. The one that was all lust and cool on the outside but rang with a strong note of sweetness and affection. You loved so much about him but his soul might be your favorite thing. He couldn’t help that his core was sweet and loving.

His lips hovered over yours in a tease that he knew drove you mad with want; it was something he loved to do. His smile turned to a smug smirk. You drank in his presence. Everything from the way his breath felt across your lips to the faint smell of sweat from a hard day’s work.

You wanted to touch him but you were so scared that if you did you’d never let go. It was easy for the two of you to get lost in each other and Jimmy seemed to never get enough of you. All it would take would be the right kiss. The right touch and he’d whisk you into his trailer. It would be so easy.

But if you did that you’d never have the guts to tell him. You’d be too scared he’d push you from his arms afterwards. And that most of all would break your heart.

“You all right?” he asked, noticing your distinct lack of reciprocation.

You nodded at him, seeing the bit of worry on his face disappear with an easy smile but you had to do it. You felt your face twist in with nerves and you shook your head. The small furrow between his brows came back and you knew as you closed your eyes his expression had turned fully worried now. His hands came down from the trailer and went to your hips. He held you close, confused.

He wasn’t an idiot. You knew he’d noticed that you’d been off all week and every day you thought about telling him but didn’t. You needed to figure out the perfect way to tell him, but there wasn’t any. So, here you were. Back against his trailer in the blazing heat of Jupiter trying to tell the man you loved the scariest thing you’d ever have to say.

“You’re scaring me, baby,” he said, trying to lighten the mood with a laugh that sounded unconvincing for such a seasoned performer. You opened your eyes to take him in one last time before the news was out and couldn’t be taken back. Before everything changed.

“I’m pregnant,” you said slowly or quickly, you weren’t sure. It was a statement. Not a question or a reply. It just was.

Jimmy didn’t react at first. He stared, processing. Then his hands left your body and he stumbled backwards.

“Shit!” he spat. He paced a small circle. “Shit.”

You stayed frozen in place, watching him. You saw the emotions play out before you but you couldn’t understand what they meant. Jimmy wasn’t able to stand still as the news sank in. He paced. He swore. He swore some more.

“I thought you should know,” you said quietly when he finally stopped, lost in thought. He turned to look at you, his face unreadable now.

“Shit.”

“Can you say something else?” you asked, laughing at the absurdity.

“How long have you known?”

“A week. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

“Why now?” he asked before he turned and waved off the question, “Ah, it doesn’t matter.” He paced again before coming to an abrupt stop. “Shit!”

You steeled yourself. “Aren’t you happy?”

Jimmy froze before spinning to face you. His eyes were wide and they searched your face frantically.

“Happy?” he asked in disbelief.

You could feel your eyes start to water. Was such a notion so far fetched that he couldn’t even fathom it? You sniffled.

“Many men are excited to find out they’re going to become fathers,” you pointed out, trying to force the tears in your eyes back.

Jimmy practically ran up to you and his hands grasped your shoulders. His eyes were wide and his face was almost blank with shock, his lips parted.

“You’re not upset,” he stated, noting your words. You shook your head.

“I’m having your baby. How could I be anything but overjoyed?”

“You want this?” His voice had taken on a tone of childlike hope and happiness and you couldn’t help but laugh as you nodded back your response. He let out a sign of disbelief as a smile dared to come to his lips.

He stepped back, one hand dropping to his side as another came up to push his card through his hair. He froze and you watched as he slowly brought his hand down until it was eye level. He stared at it. You saw his eyes go wide with horror as if he had forgotten about his deformity for a while. He gasped before dropping the hand and turning away from you quickly.

“Jimmy?” you asked, not understanding what was happening.

A shuddering breath came as a response and Jimmy’s hands came up to his body as he hugged himself tightly before he collapsed on the ground. You rushed to his side.

He was crying.

As you knelt beside him, his hands came to his head, cradling it. He cried harder and started to rock. You reached out and tried to turn him to face you but he flinched. Suddenly he scrambled away from you, eyes locking with yours with the most heartbreaking fear you’ve ever seen.

“Jimmy?” you asked, feeling your tears returning.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered in a broken voice. His eyes went to your stomach, “I’m so sorry,” he cried.

“What are you talking about? I told you I’m happy. What’s wrong? Why are you so upset. I though you - I mean you were smiling, but now - “ you sucked in a breath, shaking your head.

“It’s a curse.” He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “A curse that I’ll have no doubt passed down. A curse I’ve put on your baby.”

“Our baby. Jimmy, it’s our baby. And there isn’t a curse.”

You crawled over to him but he stood up quickly to get away. He walked away and you were scared he was going to leave you there. And that would be that. But he stopped. He stopped and turned. He was so scared. He was so guilty.

“You deserve to be with a normal man. Not a freak. You deserve to go on dates in public without being stared at and to get married like a normal girl. You deserve to have babies that don’t have hands like these,” he lifted his hands up and upon seeing them, fresh tears and pain erupted once more across his face. “And that baby,” he gasped a heavy breath in. “That baby.” He looked at your stomach, though you were unsure if he could see at all through his tears. “What have I done to that sweet, innocent baby.” He turned his hands raking down his face as he heaved a sob of disgust and self hatred.

You stared at him, letting his words sink in.

“Shut up,” you said as a silence fell between you, the only noise the occasional shuddering gasp of breath from Jimmy as he tried to breath through the tears. He turned to look at you in shock. “You shut the hell up, Jimmy Darling.” Conviction was building in you and you let it guide you. “Finding out that I’m pregnant with our child is the best news I’ve ever gotten. I can’t wait to meet our child. And that’s because it means there’s part of you growing in me. There’s part of you that’s going to be with me forever. This child is the proof of our love and I love it so damn much.”

You walked over to him slowly, his facial expression unreadable once more.

“Any child can be born with a deformity. And I know that this child probably will have your hands and that just means they’re going to be even more like their daddy. And that, is the best thing it could ever hope for. Because it’s daddy is strong, and brave, and kind, and loyal, and beautiful inside and out.”

Jimmy tried to turn his head away but you grabbed hold hold of his chin, gently keeping him facing you.

“You are. And I love you for it. Just like I will love this baby. You won’t love it any less if it’s born with your hands or something else will you?”

“No,” he whispered.

“No,” you smiled, tears now falling down your cheeks. “Because you’re going to be a good daddy, Jimmy. I know you are. And I am going to love that child just as much as I love you.”

Jimmy smiled. His reached out and pulled you towards him by your hips. Your foreheads rested against each other and your eyes closed. Jimmy’s breath came across your lips like before. A moment that was less than a half hour ago but feels like a lifetime ago now.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered gently, as if he had to be as careful with the words as one would be with holding a newborn itself. You smiled, nodding against his skin.

“Our baby,” you whispered and felt the puff of air from his lips as he laughed in happy disbelief.

It was only a few second later when he parted, just enough to look into your eyes. His hands were still holding your hips and your bodies were pressed close. Your arms at some point went around his shoulders, hands finding their way into his hair. You didn’t move as he looked at you. He was frowning, but this time in simple confusion.

“Why were you upset before if you’re so happy?”

You swallowed, unsure how to say it. Jimmy waited patiently. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Often, doing this alone was enough to work Jimmy up and distract him. But it wouldn’t work this time. You knew it, of course, but you still had to try.

“I was scared you wouldn’t want it.” Jimmy was silent. “Me.” You didn’t meet his eyes. “Us.”

His right hand came up to cup tilt your chin up so he could see you properly.

“How could I not want you?” he asked, and that tone of his was back. You laughed, a single hot tear streaking down your cheek. He wiped it away, a loving smile on his lips. “How could I not want this,” he said and his left hand slid from your hip to your stomach. You smiled, feeling a giddy like happiness spread across your chest with the warmth of love. Jimmy smiled down at you with love in his eyes.

“What’s going on here then?” Ethel asked as she came across the two of you still in a tight embrace, eyes wet and red with tears with love in your eyes and smiles on your lips.

“I’m pregnant,” you yelled back with a smile and Jimmy beamed. He picked you up and twirled you around before claiming your lips hungrily in a passionate kiss.

“Shit,” Ethel said as the news soaked in.

You laughed into Jimmy’s mouth as he held you close, refusing to end the kiss just yet.

#jimmy darling #ahs #american horror story #freak show #american horror story freak show #american horror story s4 #ahs freakshow #ahs freak show #ahs s4 #evan peters #jimmy #jimmy darling x reader #jimmy x reader #jimmy darling imagine

148 notes · View notes

adenei · 4 years ago

Note

Yay yay yay platonic Rarry! I want more. A lot more! I love friendship fics between Ron and Harry ❤️

Hi anon! Here’s some more platonic Rarry for you (with side Romione and Hinny because I couldn’t resist.) Hope you enjoy!

*************************

Taking the next step

“Want to take the afternoon off if we get through all this paperwork?” Ron asked Harry. They were both sitting at their desks in the Auror office, having gotten a brief reprieve from being in the field.

Harry looked up from what he was doing. “What’d you have in mind?” he asked.

“I could use your help with something,” Ron said noncommittally.

Harry stared at him before saying, “Okay…”

“You’re not opposed to using glamour charms and disguising ourselves, are you?” Ron asked.

“No. Mate, do you have some secret Auror mission you’re trying to investigate or something?” Harry asked.

“What? No, ‘course not! I just think it’d be best if we weren’t seen by anyone who would recognize us. I’ll explain when we’re out of the Ministry.”

“Alright,” Harry said as he went back to his work. He trusted Ron, and was sure he had a good reason for whatever he had planned. The afternoon came faster than he’d expected, and the pile on both of their desks had become significantly less.

“Ready?” Ron asked.

“Sure. Are you going to send a note to Hermione letting her know that you’re leaving?” Harry asked.

“Er, no, she doesn’t need to know. I’ll send a patronus if we end up being later than expected.” Ron said. “Lunch in muggle London first?”

Harry was surprised that Ron wasn’t telling Hermione, but tried to hide it. “Alright.”

They stopped at a quiet cafe a few blocks into Muggle London that had a good selection of sandwiches. After they placed their order, Harry looked at Ron.

“Alright, what’s really going on that you’re being all secretive about?”

“I want to look for a ring,” Ron told him.

Harry stared at him, processing his words. He wasn’t surprised in the least. The girls had just finished at Hogwarts a few months prior.

“Wow, really? That’s great, mate! How’d you know?” Harry was genuinely interested, since he’d been thinking about how long he should wait before he started shopping for one for Ginny.

“Honestly? I’ve known it for so long, and things are finally starting to settle into some normalcy in our lives, and it just feels right.”

Harry nodded. “That makes sense. But why not just shop in Muggle London? There are plenty of jewelers, and then you can avoid the prying eyes of people in Diagon Alley.”

“Magical jewelry is different, mate.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes, “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised when you ask questions like that anymore, and yet here we are.” Ron laughed at himself.

“How?” Harry asked interestedly, pretending he didn’t hear Ron’s jab about Harry’s continued lack of magical knowledge.

“Well, it’s kind of like shopping for a wand, isn’t it? It’s not that the ring chooses the person like a wand does, but there’s magic embedded in the ring that’s drawn to certain dynamics of couples, and the right choice will help strengthen the bond between them. So like, the ring I’d choose for Hermione would be different from the one you’d choose for Ginny...if that’s something you decide to do, too, of course. There’s really more to it than just style and diamond cut and band, and all that other rubbish I’ve been trying to read up on in secret,” Ron explained.

Harry nodded, “So, have you guys talked at all about it or is this going to be a complete surprise?”

“What do you mean? We’ve talked about our future together, but Hermione’s not really the type to gush over a princess cut, or side stones, or the difference between white gold and silver…” Ron droned on.

Harry snorted, “ I think you need to lay off the research. Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Oi! How much thought have you given it?”

“Enough to figure that I’d just know what would suit Ginny when I see it? She’s not exactly the ‘froo froo’ type either,”

Ron nodded in agreement. “See? That’s exactly my point!”

Harry looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “So has Hermione ever actually talked about what kind of ring she wants?”

Ron stared blankly back at him. “Er, no. That’s why I asked you to come along. We’ve only ever talked about the future in relation to being married and how many kids and where we’re going to live...we’ve never really discussed the engagement part of it..”

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food. “Ah, so you proposing is nowhere near on her radar,” Harry said.

“Hopefully not, but I’d like her to be bloody surprised for once in her life. She’s got everything too planned out.”

“That she does. So what are you thinking?”

“Well, you know how we were talking a while back about taking a holiday together? I thought it might be perfect to set that up and plan for it, then. It can still be a private proposal, but we’d also have you and Ginny to celebrate with, and we could enjoy it before having Mum go crazy at the announcement.”

“Oh, excellent idea! When are you thinking?” Harry asked. “I could use a break.”

“Ginny’s got a gap in her season coming up next month, yeah? We could go then?”

“Sounds brilliant, but how are you going to pry Hermione away from work? She’s barely getting started, so you know how she’s going to react to taking a vacation so soon.”

“Well, luckily she’s got to use some of her paid time off before the end of the year. Only half of it will carry over.”

“Brilliant, really brilliant mate. Maybe we should go book the trip this afternoon, too so they can’t talk us out of it,” Harry suggested.

Ron looked up from his sandwich excitedly. “See, I knew I could count on bringing you along! I might have to send that patronus to Hermione after all.”

*********************

After they finished their lunch, they paid and left the cafe, heading for a dark alleyway just down the street. They altered their appearances using glamour charms so no one would recognize them when they returned to Diagon Alley. As they made their way to the jeweler, they brainstormed different locations for the trip, and ultimately decided on southern Italy. They both agreed that that would be the most memorable and romantic for Hermione when it came to the proposal.

They walked into the jewelry shop and began looking as the shopkeeper was helping another customer. Ron was browsing along the glass cases when he saw one that caught his eye. It was a yellow gold vintage band with a round brilliant diamond cut in a cathedral setting. There were four single cut accent diamonds on either side of the center stone. The ring was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

“Ah, yes, the brilliant cathedral in traditional gold. This one is rather rare when it comes to browsing patrons,” the jeweler said to Ron. “It signifies the test of time, and is best suited for a couple that is deeply devoted to each other. I haven’t seen a pairing for one of these in quite some time.”

“Oh? Should I, er look at something else?” Ron asked awkwardly.

“No, no, I meant that as a compliment. The ring is sensing the love and devotion you have for your other half. It absolutely suits you.” Harry walked over to see what Ron had found. “I should warn you though, if you choose this one, it’s best not to wait too long. You may lose the strength in the bond it feels.”

Harry tried to stifle a laugh. “Hear that, mate? Don’t wait another seven years to pop the question.”

“Bugger off, Barry.” Ron said (they’d agreed that code names would be best as well, just in case). “I’ll take it,” he said without hesitation.

“Excellent! And might I show your friend a particular piece that I can sense pulling towards him?”

Harry shrugged as Ron eyed him curiously. The shopkeeper let them over to another class case and pulled out a silver band that held a solitaire diamond. “A simple white gold band with a radiant cut diamond. Fit for an easygoing couple that understands balance in an ever busy life.”

Despite Harry’s high profile life, this did fit them well. He and Ginny had always had a mutual understanding of the hardships they’d been through since the war had ended, and they’d worked hard to be more open and candid with each other as a result. The ring certainly suited Ginny’s personality well.

Harry gave Ron a tentative look. “If it feels right, go for it, mate.”

“But this is about you and Helena,” Harry made up a fake name on the spot for Hermione.

“Yeah, but if that’s really what you want with Minnie then go for it. Just, don’t hijack my plans.”

Harry thought for a moment, and knew deep down that ultimately this was the direction he wanted to go in with Ginny. He hadn’t been happier since they were able to pick their relationship back up, and he couldn’t see himself with anyone else. “Yeah, alright, I’ll take it,” Harry said as he broke out into a huge grin.

“Look at us, growing up and thinking about next steps,” Ron said.

“Yeah, who knew we’d even be here to see the day,” he said quietly.

They took turns checking out, setting up transfers to be made from their Gringotts accounts, and once their true identities were revealed, Ron pulled out nondisclosure agreements to ensure their anonymity from the press. This wasn’t something he was going to chance being ruined because of one person.

“That was brilliant thinking, mate,” Harry said as they walked out of the store, still in disguise. “Ready to head over to Globus Mundi?”

“Let’s go. I think we can ditch the disguises there, but let’s transfigure the bags just in case.”

“Good thinking.”

“So when are you thinking of popping the question?” Ron asked him eagerly.

“Well, I’m not going to do it too close to you guys. Was thinking maybe around the holidays. That’ll give Hermione enough time in the spotlight.”

Ron nodded. “Thanks, mate. You’ll be my best man, yeah?”

Harry laughed and said, “Isn’t it a little early to ask? She might not say yes.”

“Very funny, Harry.” Though a look of worry creased Ron’s brows.

“I’m just kidding! Of course, I will, as long as you’ll do the same for me.”

“I don’t know...for a specky git like you? I wouldn’t want to overshadow you with my handsome looks, after all,” Ron said with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright, I deserved that.” They both laughed some more.

“Come on, we’ve got a vacation to plan!” as Ron picked up the pace.

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years ago

Text

Bare Oneself and One’s Soul (Bi!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader)

Summary: Sex workers and strippers are being killed in Portland, Maine. The BAU team investigates the fourth and attempts to build a profile. But with part of the puzzle still missing, the reader contemplates offering to revisit a previous profession of theirs - the oldest in the business - to draw out the unsub.

AN: My first fic for Criminal Minds! I started watching the show about two weeks ago and I cannot stop. I’m on series 4 so no spoilers for me please! I would like to open requests soon, still wanna write more diverse readers hence why this is my first entry into this fandom.

Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for inspiring me with your Bi The Way fic and answering my queries! You’re the bee’s knees!

Feedback and requests to be tagged in specific fics are welcome

Word count: 6.9k words

Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence, descriptions of dead bodies, homophobia, threats of outing, stripping, lap dances (mild NSFW), Gone Girl spoilers. Please let me know if I have missed anything!

Your name: submit What is this?

“Dancing, at its best, is independence and intimacy in balance.” ― Donna Goddard, The Love of Devotion

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was already hard enough with this job. But someone targeting sex workers and the like, that was going to make things harder. The victims were anonymous in the eyes of the general public, subhuman, not worthy of being reported to warn others in their profession. Furthermore, the associates of the victims were not likely to talk to law enforcement.

Emily, Derek and Y/N returned to the temporary base of operations, having already faced this reality with the limited responses garnered from very few witnesses.

Only the recycling guy who found the latest body was willing and that was a stretch on the definition.

In the police station, Hotch was sifting through the security tapes he had access to, JJ at his side trying to spot the unsub. Spencer was building up a geographical profile and Rossi was out speaking to the family of the latest victim.

Y/N helped Morgan hand out the coffees they’d picked up, dropping a hefty amount of sugar packets and a disposable stirrer on the desk beside where Spencer was working. He stared up at the map and tried to clear his mind in case an epiphany decided to pass by.

The fourth victim was exactly like the three previous. The body was found down the back alley of a local nightclub, this one called Red Effort, and it was sat up daintily in the corner made of the building and a dumpster. A plastic bag was over the head. An expensive silk tie for a gag left in the mouth. Evidence of another used to tie the wrists together but that tie was gone. Other than that, the body was stripped naked.

“The bag wasn’t used in the suffocation; it was put on after death. The unsub couldn’t look at the victim after he’d killed him,” Y/N theorised, “But the nudity has a statement of sadism.”

Derek pointed to the photograph of the fourth victim’s neck, “Bruises around his neck show that strangulation killed him. Some kind of rope, possibly a belt about inch and a half wide, just like the others. But the tie is what gets me. Why leave one in the mouth but not the other around the hands? And why not leave the belt?”

“Hermès is an expensive brand,” JJ said, “But if it was cost the unsub was worried about, they wouldn’t leave the other behind. It must be something sentimental about that tie but not the other items used.”

Moving on, Spencer’s geographical profile highlighted the clubs’ connections. Utopia, Pulse Point, Move, and now Red Effort had tacks in them, standing out over the map. His “colouring in” highlighted clearly the MO of the killer they were after: it was someone local stalking the clubs over the last two weeks.

“The previous attacks show that they are only in the city and the unsub doesn’t hit the same club twice - at least so far. The next target is likely to be one of these three clubs in the radius: Focus, Potential, or Encore.”

“Anything in the CCTV?” Rossi asked.

JJ pinched the bridge of her nose, “Nothing so far from Garcia.”

“Well, I think we’re ready to present the profile to your officers, so if you could get everyone together, we can begin.”

When the group of officers had their notebooks at the ready, Hotch began:

“We’re looking for a man in his mid-thirties to late forties. When he’s in these clubs, he will seem confident and charming, even if he is a lone man amidst multiple women.”

Then Prentiss took over, “He is voyeuristic, hence why he is targeting strip clubs instead of approaching a prostitute. He likes to watch his victims perform, see them with other men before he makes his move.

“Outside of the club, he is less confident,” said Y/N, “He may present himself as heterosexual, probably married which is why he can’t target these men during the day. Going into the city likely means that he lives in the suburbs.”

Morgan continued, “His sexuality is warped; violence is what produces sexual release in his mind. The strangulation method, using a belt, shows that he doesn’t have enough strength themselves to take out their victims. He has to get their complete vulnerability before he can strike.”

Spencer turned away from his map to point to the evidence board, “He is targeting young men, strippers. Some of his victims were prostitutes. They were all brunettes, slim build, all performed on a stage in a nightclub the night they died, and witnesses have confirmed that they gave dances to men and women.”

“This unsub is escalating,” Rossi concluded, “The first attack was five days apart; the last was only two days. These are vulnerable people who need our help. Let’s catch this guy before he hurts any more people.”

A few hours later and Y/N was paired up with Emily at Focus. Drinking water in opaque glasses, they moved subtly to the music with their eyes steady across the club’s topography. The debrief played over and over in Y/N’s mind.

Although, his mind did stray to the fact that it was odd being in one of these clubs again. Being on the other end too, as a “customer”. Not disconcerting, just odd.

“Leather jacket, three o’clock.”

Over the rim of his glass, Y/N followed Emily’s direction and found their suspect. He was looking at a woman who was giddily on the receiving end of a lap dance.

No.

He was looking at the dancer. The man who was sporting some body paint that blended well with his tiger print shorts.

“You got eyes on him?” Emily spoke under her breath.

“I do.”

The suspect passed the dancer gradually, sauntering whilst making steady eye contact. Then his head snapped in the other direction and he walked right out of the club, still unhurried. The dancer’s stare lingered after him before he finished up his routine, flirtatiously thanked the ladies for their generous tip. He walked in the direction the suspect had gone.

Without speaking, Emily and Y/N were next to leave after the suspect. Their guns were drawn once the cool air of the night hit them through the back exit. A streetlamp’s light threw the two men’s identities into silhouettes. Emily and Y/N approached with as much stealth as the bare alleyway would give them before Emily made the call.

The suspect reached out to the dancer and Emily shouted, “FBI! Hands where I can see ‘em!”

The suspect looked more annoyed than surprised or scared of the guns pointed at him, “Hey, woah, what’s going on?”

“Hands up!” Y/N repeated sternly.

Y/N got the suspect in handcuffs not seconds after complying, Emily moving over to the dancer to check that he was alright.

“Derek?” The suspect screwed his features up, straining to turn and look Y/N in the eye.

Y/N cut him off, “Shut up.”

But still, as the suspect was dragged over to the cop car parked at the kerb, he remarked, “You’ve grown into your big boy pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Rossi unlinked his fingers and pressed them into the case file, pushing the photograph across the table to where Fabian O’Conner was sitting. The Encore club’s new manager had kept up his act of being more irked with the officers than intimidated. He was sloppy in his body language, especially after only five hours sleep in a cell and another hour in that uncomfortable chair, not taking any of Rossi’s questions seriously. All Fabian talked about was his club and how shit things were for him in the last fortnight.

“I’ve had three cancellations alone this week!”

Behind the glass, Emily looked to Y/N, “Why’d he call you Derek?”

Y/N was about to lie through his teeth when Hotch’s mobile trilled on the desk.

“Hotchner… OK… alright, we’ll be on the scene right away.” Hotch hung up and looked grimly at his team, “There’s been another murder, at Potential.”

JJ pointed at Fabian who was swinging on the chair’s back legs, “Well, it wasn’t him, so either he has an accomplice or we got something wrong in the profile that meant the unsub slipped past unnoticed.”

“Prentiss, JJ, Morgan, let’s get to the scene,” Hotch instructed, “Reid, Y/N, stay here, keep us updated on what Rossi gets out of this guy.”

As he watched his colleagues exit the building, Y/N wiped his cheek with the back of his left hand, “I’m gonna make more coffee, Spencer, you want any?”

“Please,” Spencer replied, looking over his shoulder with that white people smile he’d nailed over the years. Tossing a thumb’s up in his direction, Y/N headed off to get them their drinks.

“Why would he kill at the risk of losing business himself?” Reid asked him when he returned, sliding the paper cups onto the desk.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense to me,” said Y/N, “Fabian’s all about business. Plus, he’s the straightest guy I’ve ever met, don’t think he’d be within fifty miles of comfortable leaving these bodies naked.”

Before Spencer could ask how Y/N would know something like that, his phone rang out and he placed it on speaker phone.

“Garcia, whatcha got?”

“An update on that evidence of yours yesterday,” She spoke, “The tie is a very specific kind. Limited edition at Hermès, bought recently online. The paper trail leads us to a Mr Andrew Lowenthal who lives not a mile away from the city. Prentiss and Morgan went to go check out his home.”

“Brilliant, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, boy genius.”

She hung up before Spencer could but Spencer was already off on a tangent: “Limited collection, they’d stand out to the owner, so maybe they’re left as a message for someone.”

“But who?” Y/N asked the obvious.

He tapped his pen against the post mortem report that hid the corpse’s photographs. Something about those ties just stick in Y/N’s head. They kept reminding him of the ex-boyfriend in Gone Girl, his aversion for all the ties Amy bought him. The same ties Amy used to ruin his life, and that same ex-boyfriend couldn’t say anything at all about it.

Unfortunately, Rossi couldn’t get much more out of Fabian and he was let go. The alibi he’d given was checked out and found to be watertight. Apparently he was just looking in his competitor’s club for a dancer who had left Encore a week ago.

The investigation proved to be more fruitful outside of the station however when, a few hours later, JJ appeared with her notebook, “This girl Emily and I interviewed yesterday, she won’t tell me her real name, but she was there today at Focus. Says she saw a woman this time, a woman walking with Daniel into the alleyway behind the club.”

Hotch’s phone was heard entering the building before he was, buzzing in his palm before he promptly answered once in the room, “Emily, you’re on speaker.”

“So Andrew Lowenthal was home. Get this: he’s gay.”

“What?”

“We caught him packing his things to move out. Andrew came out to his wife Marcie recently and she reacted badly, threw a fit, accused him of cheating. Andrew says he’s been meeting with a man, a stripper, he won’t name him but he says they’ve been working through understanding his sexuality. Who can say if he’s really cheating or not, but this all came out a fortnight ago.”

Morgan continued, “Right when the killings started. Marcie won’t ask for a divorce, she’s threatened to out him though. She’s been staying out late as well on the nights the murders happened.”

Hotch looked at the case file in front of him, up at the geographical profile up on the board.

“Alright, thank you. Come back to the station.”

“The reason the unsub got away is because we thought the unsub was a man,” Y/N sighed as Hotch hung up.

Hotch was quick on the contradiction, “We can’t rule out Andrew yet. All the witnesses so far have said the victims were seen a man.”

“Yes, while they were at the club, but they were killed after work in the alley, not in the private rooms they rented!” Spencer pointed out the security tracking the movements of the victims next to his map, “After she, the unsub, had confirmed that these men would dance and, in her mind, sleep with other men!”

“He’s right,” Y/N supported, “It’s how the unsub would verify that her next victims were involved in homosexual activities. I should have thought of that sooner.”

Garcia was up on the phone immediately, searching for Marcie Lowenthal amidst the security footage. The genius that she was, it only took her a minute to find the new suspect at every single crime scene. The clips appeared on the laptop screen and played, this time with a box around the woman’s face to bring her out against the rest of the image.

“Marcie Lowenthal,” JJ pointed to her image on the screen. Garcia was correct, she had been right there, at the corner of each photo printed off from the other clubs

JJ carried on as the conversation between Daniel and Marcie unfolded onscreen, “Around the middle of the night, approaches Daniel, arranges to meet him outside in the alley once he’s finished work.”

“And we thought she was just too nervous to instigate a dance with them,” Derek bit his lip hard, “So what do we do now? She’s not at work, she’s in the air until she kills again. She’s been escalating, so she’ll kill again tonight.”

It was then that Y/N decided to jump in with the idea he had been brewing since his second cup of coffee:

“I could go undercover in one of the clubs.”

Hotch stared for a moment at Y/N, clearly caught off guard by the outburst, before speaking in that collected drone of his, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Each club is hit once, Encore is one of two potential spots left, the unsub is escalating so they will be at one tonight. It’s “Boys in the Buff’ at Encore tonight, so likelihood of them being there is high compared to Potential’s ‘Dollar a Drink’ gimmick, OK? It’s just a suggestion. If we have another plan, I’m all ears.”

“You fit the MO, but how would you even blend in?” Spencer asked.

The next bit came out a lot easier than when Y/N had expected.

“When I was here during college, I used to be a stripper at Encore, before I worked in the FBI. ‘Derek’ was my pseudonym. Fabian was a bouncer at Encore before he became manager.”

The wave of expressions changing throughout the room were significant: jaws slacking; a little lift in an eyebrow; most notably, silence.

Rossi walked into the room, completely ignorant to the tone set by Y/N’s revelation, “Marcie Lowenthal’s next move is at Encore. She’s building up to Focus where her husband has been going. Garcia tracked his car’s GPS to that club five times in the last month.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Encore is the next step and then Focus,” Y/N fidgeted with his pen.

Hotch turned back at Y/N and in his usual calm and collected tone he spoke, “Tell us what you need for this.”

“I’ll need an hour to warm up, a slot on stage, and a guy to dance with then take to a private room. And some hot pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Encore was empty, the stage free from dancers, the bar barren.

It was always weird to look at a club when it was empty and all the normal lights were on. Even more so that it had been redecorated in Y/N’s hiatus from Portland, highlighting how surreal it was to be back.

Y/N climbed up onto the stage and surveyed the empty seats. Then he began to warm himself up. A grunt escaped him every now and again, fighting against his stiff joints. Thankfully, the BAU was another job that kept fitness levels high as a necessity.

Humming his chosen song, Y/N began to test his flexibility against the pole. Muscle memory brought back his techniques one after the other. He repeated one of his old routines in broken segments, saving the transitions for last before he was ready to properly rehearse it. With a sigh, he took off his button up, leaving only the tight spandex that wrapped his crotch in a deep cherry red.

“Nice package.”

Mimi was watching from the side of the stage, her heels dangling by the straps on the tips of two fingers. A fond smile played on her lips, one that grew into a toothy grin filled with genuine glee as she approached him.

“Hey!” Y/N finally retorted, though there was that same playfulness in his voice that meant he didn’t take the comment on his junk to heart.

“Hello,” Mimi gave him a warm embrace, “What are you doing back here, you idiot?”

Y/N settled for the excuse of needing a few extra bucks and figured it would be nice to join in the gender equality of male strippers. Mimi didn’t seem convinced.

“You choose that now? When all those guys in the other clubs are getting murdered?”

“I’ll be sure not to follow anyone the alley. Are you doing ok?”

“All good.”

“Really? I’ve seen you at some of the crime scenes, talking with the FBI.”

“I’m safe, especially with my girls.”

“Speaking of, it’s ladies’ night, what are you doing here?”

“Just picking up something I forgot,” and she poked him in the centre of his chest, “Good luck tonight.”

Y/N rubbed that spot as she left the club, “Thanks.”

Not much else happened between Y/N finishing up his rehearsal and the club opening. The conversations in the dressing room was soon drowned out by the din of eager customers waiting.

To say that Y/N was more nervous about dancing in front of his co-workers – his actual co-workers, not the other dancers – than performing in front of a serial killer would be an understatement. He had gone to the toilet three times in the last ten minutes. And that was saying something; the men’s loos were beyond disgusting.

On the steps up, he could see Emily was at the bar with JJ. They looked normal enough. Two gals on a night out to a strip club. A quick scan found Derek near the door with one of the bouncers. Hotch and Rossi were hidden in the security room, and the other agents at their aid were outside with civvies over protective gear. Everyone was watching as the announcer introduced him as “Derek” for his walk across the stage. Whoops and whistles followed him as he preened for the women in the seats down below.

Then he found Spencer. For once, he was dressed like he was from Las Vegas. Loud colours splashed across his shirt, clashing with the strobe lights. But he definitely stood out as one man amongst tens of women.

And thus began behaving “normally”. Y/N’s head space allowed him to move with ease throughout the groups of women to make it towards Spencer, who had already locked eyes on him.

His hand was shaking a little as he touched Spencer’s shoulder going past. It was a repeat of an action he’d seen on one of the tapes: keeping eye contact with a potential wallet he could dance for before pretending to drop interest.

The look between them was another matter. Eye contact was something that made the both of Y/N and Spencer nervous, but not when it was with each other. That comfort that was oft shared across the table at a meeting still comforted Y/N as his hand fell from Spencer and back to his side. The warmth of it spread through his body and gave new life to his confidence. He was safe. His team were all here. He was going to be fine. He was going to be brilliant.

The first up on the stage to perform was a man, taller and buffer than Y/N, dressed as a fireman. He swept a woman from the audience off her chair in the middle of the routine.

The second was a trio of oiled up men, weaving in and out the front row between exaggerated erotic dance moves. It was a bit of a laugh, goofy with the hen do at the front egging them on.

And now it was his turn.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and then see what we find?”

Y/N took his time stepping up to the pole, using the sultry slow beat of the music to his best advantage. Knowing most of the club had their eyes on him was horrendous and enthralling simultaneously. The next four minutes were crucial for attracting the unsub.

He performed a reverse grab to face his audience dead on. Hung gracefully upside down, still moving around the pole.

The murmurs of awe were appreciated but not what the unsub was looking for.

Time to up the ante.

Dismounting the pole, Y/N dragged a chair into the centre of the walkway. He pretended to survey everyone at the front of the stage before landing on Spencer. There, he knelt forward and held out his hand. As soon as his grip reached Spencer’s wrist, Y/N pulled him up and onto the chair.

In position, he ignored all the women screaming in the crowds, ignored the fetishization at their expense. He focused on Spencer. And that awful shirt.

He kept an inch between them for now, but Spencer wasn’t tense as he had imagined. No, Spencer was lounging back, and basking in the performance. The smile on his face, it was daring Y/N to move closer.

Spreading his legs to stand between them, Y/N touched him first. He could feel the padding of Spencer’s bulletproof vest beneath his shirt’s soft fabric. At the ends of those lovely arms (the ones often hidden beneath those cardigans) Spencer’s hands twitched.

Y/N backed up against him like he had done with the pole. A cinematic parallel the women definitely appreciated. Bringing those long legs back together, Y/N made himself comfortable on his lap, a fingertip facing the threat of being cut as it dragged along Spencer’s jaw. That prickle of stubble sparked against him. Their faces so close that his lips so close to brushing over Spencer’s, barely any space for the crooning of the possessive lyrics to reach between them. Straddling Spencer gave Y/N even more confidence. He continued to tease Spencer, taking in the smell of the sweat from the light’s heat and his skin’s flush, bolded in bright pink. His lips at his throat, they dragged across the swell of his Adam’s apple that quaked beneath him as Spencer swallowed.

They heard a whistle from the crowds that was almost definitely from JJ, spurring on the crowd to react louder. But over their roars, Y/N heard a gasp fly from Spencer. His eyes instinctively drifted down to look at Spencer’s open mouth, down further at where he was sat. Even if Y/N couldn’t feel everything, the trousers were doing nothing to hide how Spencer was feeling.

Bills were flying onto the stage floor. Y/N continued to play his part, arching his body to ripple against Spencer’s. But Spencer caught his hip, his bottom lip now bitten as he let out a groan, low enough to not be heard over the music’s closing bars. But it was clear that his reaction sparked something in the audience. Y/N leant back to survey his handiwork, twirling a loose lock of Spencer’s hair around his finger in the space between them. Then his hand drew away and left that hair in his face before climbing off him and walking off the stage with a blackout - bar one pink spot left on Spencer.

The second he was off stage, Y/N turned around and watched from the wings. Spencer rose from the chair and took a little bow. He bowed again much to the pleasure of the crowd. As he walked down the steps, Y/N could see that he was very clearly aroused.

Y/N made his way out as soon as the audience’s attention was on the stage. He knew the unsub would still be watching Spencer, now stood at the bar and sipping from a glass. It was hard not to feel the sting of a serial killer’s stare as he approached Spencer with a coy smile.

“Hey.”

Turning to face him, Spencer finished his drink before speaking, “Hello, Derek.”

“Hope you enjoyed yourself up there.”

“I did.” And he leant against the bar leisurely, his hand pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “Any chance of another round? Without the crowd this time.”

Plucking the money free with one hand, Y/N beckoned with the other, “Right this way, sir.”

Both men could see the unsub watching them in the reflection of the ceiling, following them until they filtered through the beaded curtains. Spencer went into the private room first. Y/N closed the door, trapping them in a room of mirrors and flooded pink light over a disco ball - music only muted slightly on the tiny speakers. The epitome of sleaze.

“The unsub followed us here,” Y/N dropped his act and the dollar bills onto the couch arm, falling into one half of the seat.

After a moment, Spencer sat down beside him. The cuffs of his trousers hitched up, revealing the Reid Special that was mismatching socks. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment.

“Uh, what happened out there…”

Spencer struggled to find the words so Y/N jumped in, “Don’t even worry about it. You’re not the first guy to pop a boner when I’m dancing.”

Even with that reassurance, Spencer was tenacious in explaining himself, “I want you to know I wasn’t creeping on you, and that I was focused on the situation at hand. It’s just, when an attractive man is mostly undressed and dancing like that right in front of me -” he paused to look at Y/N for the first time since they’d entered the private room “- Well, that was the most natural response.”

“I get it. It’s all good.”

Spencer, the germaphobe, perching on a couch that was definitely not up to any kind of sanitary standard, wearing that horrendous gaudy shirt, decided to strike up conversation.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Become a stripper.”

“Kept me fit during college and the tips were good.”

“Then why’d you quit?”

“I wanted to be an agent more than I wanted money.”

Eventually the wordless drone of EDM faded and Shook Me All Night Long began to beat across the room. Y/N jumped right up onto his feet, his hands open and out for Spencer to take, “Come on, up. No way to pass the time like dancing. And I’m not talking the kind from onstage!”

Spencer’s frown was hilariously contradictory, “We are tracking a serial killer, who likely has you for her next target.”

“I know, but we’re in a private room, and we’ve got another fifteen minutes at least to pass. We can’t do anything else, so up!”

“Y/N, I don’t dance. You know that.”

Sighing, Y/N’s head lolled back then rolled around to look Spencer dead in the eye, “Think logically. You need to leave this room, looking like you’ve just gotten the lap dance of your life, all hot and bothered. Either you get up and dance, or I’m gonna have to get in your lap again.”

Spencer blinked, “I know you think that’s a threat, but it’s really not.”

That caught Y/N off guard, and again when Spencer stood up and began a very awkward, very out of time two-step. Y/N let Spencer’s words go to focus on getting him more pumped.

“There we go! Let your body do all the talking.”

“My body is telling me to sit down.”

“Well… Ignore it then. It’s just us!”

Now, when his dances were coordinated like the one he had performed on stage, Y/N was rather good. Dancing outside of the stripping profession however was not his forte. One might even say he was worse than Spencer in this regard. Somehow the random arm movements alongside the bouncing on the balls of his feet were classified as “dancing”.

Spencer couldn’t laugh; his efforts, once he matched the energy, were no better. His curly hair jumping just a little delayed, that one lock that Y/N had pulled onstage still separate, he tried the headbanging like Y/N suggested. It was somewhat terrible, but not completely.

It was midway through the second song that the men fully allowed themselves to enjoy this silly moment in the sea of seriousness.

Only when Locked out of Heaven faded into more EDM did they stop for breath. They went halves on the couch and soaked up the temporary respite.

“Can’t imagine if it was Hotch in here instead of you,” Y/N panted. Spencer let out a little wheeze at the notion as he continued, “Not to undermine the importance of the job but I was glad it was you I was going undercover with. And I think you’re quite attractive too.”

It only took a fraction of a second for Spencer to understand what Y/N was referring to at the end. With a surge of confidence, he replied, “Only quite?”

“No offence to that exploding rainbow of a shirt, but I prefer you in your usual button-up and tie.”

They shared so much in that moment. Smiles, breath, honesty, the couch, endorphins. It went beyond the eye contact across the conference room’s table.

In a spike of nerves, Spencer reverted back to a constant in his life: facts.

“You know, dancing is meant to improve problem solving skills and reduces cortisol – a stress hormone – in the body. Furthermore, Dr Lovatt proved that dancing helps with social bonding. The synchrony involved in dancing to a beat along with other people is a powerful way for humans to connect.”

Y/N propped his head against his hand, arm leaning on the back of the couch as he watched Spencer’s facts unfurl.

“I didn’t know that,” He said quietly, “But it explains why it made me feel better about going back out there.”

“You weren’t nervous though. You weren’t tapping.” And Spencer pointed to Y/N’s hands, still as the rest of him.

Flexing his fingers before relaxing again, Y/N dared to look at Spencer again, “It’s why I said I’m glad I’m undercover with you.”

Spencer held that look, just for a little longer than before, checked his watch, “I guess we should get going if we wanna catch Marcie Lowenthal.”

“I suppose we’ll have to do our jobs,” sighed Y/N, only half joking.

Just before he was about to leave, Spencer was stopped by Y/N, who proceeded to untuck Spencer’s shirt and pull the end of his belt out of the loop.

“Make sure she sees you looking like this.”

Spencer gave him an incongruously polite nod before exiting. Once in view of the unsub, he made a show of adjusting his appearance before going to the bar to get another drink. Y/N took his time before coming out with the stack of bills tucked into his hot pants.

His dancing continued but back to its regularly slutty program. It was an hour with a hen do, six women who were tipsy and very liberal with their dollars. Sometimes Y/N found JJ and Emily while he was blending in, and though he couldn’t smile, and neither could they, he felt that safety net secured. Safer still when he passed them by on his way to the bar where Marcie Lowenthal was nursing a beer in a flower-patterned shirt and black skirt.

She was the one who initiated contact, stroking over Y/N’s arm to get his attention as he passed.

“Hello,” Marcie leant over to speak in his ear, “I enjoyed your dance earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“You versatile?”

“I can be anything you want.” And Y/N touched her waist, “I can make you feel good.”

With a catlike grin, Marcie leant in to whisper, “When do you get off?”

“Doesn’t matter if I do, it’s all about you, darling.” She let out a bark of laughter before Y/N managed to answer her question properly, “I finish in an hour.”

It was then that he realised Marcie was gripping his arm tight, “Meet me outside, in the back alley, in fifteen minutes.”

The team was right; she was escalating, devolving now that she was planning the murder before the night was done.

Y/N kept up the mask of intrigue, though he was cringing into himself underneath. “In here not good enough for you?”

“I like it dirty.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you there.” He winked before heading towards the dressing room.

His palms were a bit sweaty. That soon changed as he stepped outside in just his pants and a button up he’d brought for this very occasion. The alleyway seemed empty, aside from the unsub waiting by the dumpster. But Y/N kept faith that his team was ready and waiting nearby as he approached Marcie who was wrapped up in her leather jacket.

It was when she reached for something in her pocket that the hem lifted and Y/N saw the belt around her waist, hoisting the skirt up over her hips. About one and a half inches wide.

From her jacket pocket, Marcie procured a silk tie, “I like my men seen and not heard.”

“My safe-word is ‘alligator’,” Y/N said before opening his mouth.

Silk never was his favourite form of gag; it was too soft, too soggy once in the mouth. Marcie tied it roughly around the back of his head, causing Y/N to grunt and again when she tugged again with another around his wrists. Then he felt it. The cold tip of a blade pressed against his stomach.

“Turn around,” Marcie spoke through gritted teeth. A glance behind her and Y/N could see the shadows of his fellow agents gaining on them. Complying, he turned around as slowly as possible. The tip of the knife dragged across his skin.

“FBI! Marcie Lowenthal, drop the knife!“

Derek’s booming voice caught Marcie off guard, the knife breaking the skin of Y/N’s lower back.

“Drop it!” Hotch stated with less volume but just as much authority, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Drop the knife and step away from him,” Emily backed up from the other end of the alleyway, taking a step towards them.

Seeing that she was surrounded, Marcie crumbled and dropped the knife. It clinked away somewhere to the right. The team swarmed on her.

“Hands in the air, on your knees!”

The grind of handcuffs snapping around her wrists was the cue. Y/N ripped the gag from his mouth and began untying his hands; he was quick to pass the agents and officers to get on the street. There, he placed the tie in an evidence bag on his way out of the alleyway. Spencer, FBI vest atop his stripy shirt, held out Y/N’s coat for him. He thanked Spencer. He kept his “now I look like a flasher” comment to himself.

Lowenthal did not go quietly, not even as she was forced into a cop car to be driven to the station.

“Straight people are fucking headcases,” Y/N muttered to himself as he ducked around various onlookers.

“The tie,” Emily remarked as she saw the second one being examined, “It was her first anniversary present to Andrew. The others were ones purchased after he found out he was gay.”

“And Andrew couldn’t say anything about her behaviour or else she’d out him,” concluded Y/N.

With a nod, Emily touched his shoulder, “You alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” and Y/N squeezed her hand before heading over to the club – hopefully for the last time. By the corner of the building, he found Mimi waiting and watching.

She spotted him and spoke quickly, “You take care of yourself.”

She pulled him into a hug. Y/N had enough time to say “you too” before breaking away and joining the team to drive back to the station. Mimi had already vanished from the scene by the time Y/N was looking out the passenger window, driving by the hubbub of Encore.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Thankfully, Y/N was granted the opportunity to change before getting on the jet home – as was Spencer. Both were in their comfort clothing: a hoodie and joggers, and a cardigan paired with slacks respectively. Claiming the couch, Y/N curled up around his pillow and rubbed over the bruise that he could feel growing on his shin. His friends were occupied with their own activities. Everyone was too wired to sleep.

“Get many tips?” Emily joked about fifteen minutes into the flight.

“I did alright, and no wank stains on ‘em either. Makes you rethink your career choices?”

“No stains? That’s how you know you’ve hit the big time.”

“I’m a luxury few can afford.” A pause followed as Y/N thought on the money tucked into his bag’s front pocket, then he addressed the cabin, “Y’all better not think any less of me because I used to strip.”

“Of course not,” JJ spoke up immediately, and a wave of agreement swept through the cabin.

“We’d never judge you for that,” Rossi added.

“Good,” Y/N stood up in the middle of the aisle, “Feel free to judge me for keeping these though.”

And he dropped his joggers to reveal a pair of hot pink hot pants with “BABY SLUT” in sparkly letters on his rear – just visible below the hem of his black FBI hoodie.

Instantly JJ and Derek exploded into splutters, Derek fumbling with his phone to take a photo. Emily was well on her way to laughter as she gawped and grinned. Spencer was hiding behind his book, his eyes peeking over the top. They were crinkled at the corners so Y/N could tell he was smiling. Even Rossi and Hotch had the tiniest of smirks that lit up their eyes with mirth.

“Look at you, Hot Stuff!” Derek cheered.

“Think this is a better uniform than the vest? Alright,” Y/N held a hand up to Hotch who had either opened his mouth to speak or had just forgotten to control his jaw, “I’m putting them away.”

Just like that, he pulled up his jogging bottoms again and fell back onto the couch, as if nothing ever happened. He was pleased as punch that he could joke about this with his co-workers and not at his expense.

A spare glance landed on Spencer, who had dropped his book into his lap and was suddenly very interested in the cuff of his left sleeve. Y/N made no comment but felt very pleased that he’d gotten another response from the doctor.

Sitting in silence, he folded his arms around the pillow, pulling it into his chest. That silence continued until they had landed and were back in the office to drop off the paperwork, ready for revisiting tomorrow. That was when they were alone, when Y/N made his move to speak to Spencer.

“Hey,” he started, drawing Spencer’s attention away from his shoulder bag, “I am sorry about all the touching on this case. I know you don’t like it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mind.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Spencer’s eyes widened and his hand reached out as if to grab them from the air and drag them back, “I, um, I mean I understood that you had- it was necessary for your cover to remain intact; you don’t have to apologise.”

Y/N couldn’t really do anything other than blink. It felt a little formal after their previous interactions, more awkward after the “attractive” comment they had shared.

“Good, no bad blood?”

“Not at all.”

Walking away from the desk when Spencer dragged Y/N’S attention back with a burst of words, “A-And I wanted to say I don’t care that you were a sex worker. In fact, I think you’re brave. Not just on this case; going up to on that stage when you were in college, dancing for all those people, and doing that with a serial killer last night, that took a lot of guts. I really respect that. You, I respect you, Y/N.”

God, that was attractive. That flow of words that were often statistics or fact Spencer had tucked away in that brain of his, something Y/N never wanted to interrupt and it was admiration, understanding, for him.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

Then Y/N remembered something else. The front pocket of his bag was unzipped and he held out the bills to Spencer, “Kept your private room refund stain free.”

The brushing of fingers during the exchange of money filled Y/N with more butterflies than the entire outing in the club.

“Thank you.” Spencer tapped the bills between his thumb and forefinger, looking back to Y/N, “Maybe I could buy you dinner some time, with this stain free money.”

Y/N bit the inside of his cheek to restrain his glee, yet still a comforting smile beamed at Spencer, “I’d like that.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Real intimacy is a sacred experience. It never exposes its secret trust and belonging to the voyeuristic eye of a neon culture. Real intimacy is of the soul, and the soul is reserved.” ― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #my writing #wc: 5k+#imagine #r: male

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sweetpeaownsmyheart · 4 years ago

Text

T-Bird (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Hi Guys! Here is a lil something I wrote in an hour which has had limited editing, it’s bad basically! It is also past midnight here so I think I may just be sleepy writing but I hope you like it! I’m obsessed with musicals (all of them) so expect more writing inspired by them and feel free to request anything at all! Remember you are loved, my inbox is always open if anyone needs to talk in these unprecedented times :)

Word Count - Under 2000

Warnings - Bad writing? Not really anything else?

Summary - When you meet Sweet Pea again, things aren’t exactly going as planned. It is made more awkward by the fact he doesn’t know what you’re referencing...so you change that!

-----

It was cold out that night. Cold and ridiculously dark in the middle of nowhere without any of the towns light pollution. So, while it was cold and dark, with car parts and a long-forgotten manual thrown on the floor around you, you were searching for the nearest mechanics on your phone.

The situation stunk. You wanted nothing more to be at home, in bed, not calling up a random mechanic to come to a random abandoned road to fix whatever decided to go randomly wrong with your car. It stunk of the plot of a badly written and self-produced horror movie in which you were the victim.

As the phone kept ringing and ringing, you kept pacing, trying to keep warm. Who would pick up the phone at 2am anyway? No one would be in the shop and it was unlikely to be a home/mobile number. They were probably asleep. With your hope dwindling and the air still getting colder you decided to take a walk and see whether you could find help. Until...

-RING-

'Hello?' you began.

'Hey' you heard a raspy voice from the other end of the phone.

'Sorry to bother you this late, from the sounds of it you were sleeping. My car has broken down and i tried to fix it, but I think I may have made it worse. Is there anything you can do?'

'Umm sure, where are you?'

'oh. Right. Well about that... I'm not too sure. I don't have any signal so can't check on my phone and yeh... Somewhere on a backroad between Riverdale and Greendale. I took the third left turn when I left Greendale if that helps?'

'No, it doesn't but thanks for that Princess. I didn't plan on having to do rescue missions when i signed up for this job.'

It was if him saying the word Princess sparked something in your brain and suddenly the voice became slightly more familiar. 'Sweet Pea?'

'Yes? How do you know that? Who are you?'

'Y/N, umm we were in Math together in High School, not that you'd remember, god that was years ago now.' It had only been 3 years but having not spoken to him in School besides him asking to borrow your textbook, you didn't want to embarrass him by placing him on the spot.

'Yeh, I remember. How've you been?'

'Good up to now. I'm not exactly peachy sat on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere.'

'Well stay where you are, and I'll come find you. Be there soon.' And with that he hung up leaving you alone with thoughts about the 'good old days' and how you have changed.

-----

The sound of an engine broke you out of your thoughts and as you checked your phone you noticed that it had been about 20 minutes since you had called. As a slightly beaten up truck pulled up beside your car you got up from the curb and walked towards your (more beaten up at this point) car once again.

As Sweet Pea got out of the cab of the truck you can't help but feel 17 again. Not much had changed about him, he was still wearing the typical black jeans, his hair was still styled the same way, dog tags still hung around his neck and the iconic serpent jacket sat on his shoulders. Though, something was different. The way he held himself maybe. He looked as if he no longer was trying to carry the world, he looked more relaxed. Either way you felt like a younger version of yourself who would spend math staring at the back of his head wondering if he would notice you.

Sweet Pea had noticed you back then and he was convincing himself in that moment not to feel how he did when he was 17. You were just a customer.

'Hey Sweet Pea! Thank you so much for coming, I'll pay you double for it being, you know, the middle of the night.'

'It's my job. What's the problem?'

'Well as I was driving home, I noticed smoke coming from the engine and a god awful smell and then the car stopped.' At that moment, Sweet Pea looked down and noticed various tools on the floor. 'Um yeh... i tried to fix it but it didn't work.' you say, packing the tools into a bag, a blush settling on your face.

Pea stepped forward and looked under the hood of your car before stepping back. 'Looks like you did more harm than good Princess.'

'Can you fix it?' He responds with a hum before turning to look at you.

'Yes but not here or now, I'll take it to the shop and you can come pick it up in the next few days.'

'thanks.' You say as he begins wrapping some wires and rope type things around your car, attaching it to his truck before getting back in the front cab and opening the other side door for you.

'come on then!'

You hurried over and climbed into the seat beside him. He started the truck up and began the slow drive back to Riverdale. You took that time to admire his profile. You sure knew he was attractive at school but now he's an Adonis. Although, his current look reminded you an awful lot of a character from Grease

'What have you been up to then? What led you to be on a backroad at 2am?' He broke the uneasy silence that had settled between you both.

'You know, just work ended late and I fancied a drive to clear my head. Lost track of time.' Your response seemed short and you were glad SP didn't push further, you didn't need a reminder of your day. 'And what about you?' He looked at you puzzled. 'What led you to be the one picking up the phone at 2am? Had the

leather jacket and decided to go full T-Bird?'

He still looked confused. 'you know "automatic, systematic, hydromatic?"' you pushed but were still met with a blank stare. You decide to let it go as you reached the garage. 'Well thanks for getting me, call me when it is ready, and I'll come pick it up.' You practically whisper, already walking away from him feeing rather awkward and questioning if he had ever even seen Grease - he didn't exactly look the type.

'Wait, let me just get this unhooked and I'll drop you home, don't want you getting hurt.'

'Oh, that's nice of you, are you sure? I don't want to be trouble; I've already interrupted your sleep.'

'What's an extra five minutes though princess?' Truth was, despite not knowing you, Sweet Pea felt drawn to you and couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you. So, he sat you back in his truck, put your car in the shop and then got back in next to you.

The silence then seemed more comfortable, the tension lay within you both wondering who was going to try and start a conversation - you both did. At the same time. Another awkward moment to add to the many of the night. You started to talk about how school used to be and him about work.

'Tell me about it, Stud.' You hit him with another reference to test your theory and are met with a confused look once again before he starts to go on about work. Before…

'Oh my god you haven't seen Grease!' you interrupt him.

'I don't see what that has to do with anything?'

'The references Sweets, you haven't got them. Thank god I thought I was just being an idiot.' His heart swelled when you called him Sweets, normally he wouldn't take it but the way you sounded so innocent as his name left your mouth made him feel ~gooey~ inside!

'Oh right, was that what it was?' you respond with a hum. 'You like that film?'

'Yes, who wouldn't? Apart from people who haven't seen it of course.' You send a cheeky glare his way.

Suddenly Sweet Pea feels very nervous, a feeling that he hasn't really ever felt before and as he pulls up at your house, he turns to you.

'It's playing at the drive-in on Saturday, if you want to go? If you're free. To go. With me, I mean.' He just about stutters out.

'Sounds great - here's my number, pick me up at 7?' Your reply is perky and a smile settle on your lips followed by a smirk appearing on his. There was the cocky guy you knew. 'Thanks for coming to my rescue T-Bird, see you Saturday' you say turning and walking into your house.

-----

Saturday came sooner than you thought, you had spent most of the previous few days texting back and forth with Sweet Pea and had come to really like the guy. He turned up at 7 as you had said, dressed in his usual attire, you greeted him with a quick, 'Hey Zuko.' before grabbing his hand and walking to his truck.

The drive-in was relatively empty (not surprising as the film had played loads before) so you grab a good spot and go to get snacks before jumping in the back of the pickup and settling between cushions and blankets as the opening credits played.

As the film progressed you and Sweet Pea got gradually closer without realising it. By the end, he could hear you softly singing along to the film and at that moment he knew he was absolutely smitten with you.

It was the way your fingers softly tapped to the beat of the song while resting on his chest. It was how your eyes would light up every time that an iconic line was said. It was the way that you would keep turning to check on him and see that he was enjoying the film. He was head over heels by the time the ending note of 'We go together' played.

'What did you think?' You whisper to him, startling him out of his daze.

'Umm there was a lot of singing?'

'It's a musical Pea.' You respond, playfully nudging him with your shoulder.

'Yes, I know. It was okay, I suppose.'

'I know you're only saying that to keep up the bad boy persona but it's okay, I know you loved it.' You jump out the pickup and climb back into the cab, Pea quickly joins you.

'Okay, okay, I liked it. That's all you're getting. Don't tell anyone though.'

'Course not.' You scoot closer to him as he starts the engine and begins to drive back to your house.

Once you reach your house, the ride home having been filled with off-key singing from you and disapproving looks from Sweet Pea, he gets out to walk you to your door.

'I had a great time tonight Y/N'

You blush, 'Yeh, Me too Sweets. I think the Wiz is playing next week if you want to go maybe, with me.'

He smirked. 'You asking me out Y/N/N?'

'And if I am?'

'I'd have to let you know that you're the one that I want.' You were leaning into him, focussed on his lips but quickly pulled back erupting in giggles as he said the famous line.

'Told you that you loved it, T-Bird.' You lean in again and as your lips meet, you're both smiling because, you both knew, you really were hopelessly devoted.

#riverdale imagine #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea one shot #riverdale one shot #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale x reader #riverdale sweet pea #riverdale fluff #riverdale writing #my writing

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cathwritestragediesnotsins · 5 years ago

Text

Admiring eyes

Daryl Dixon x plus size!reader (implied)

Word count: 2,716

Summary: Daryl and Y/N’s relationship is one forged by fire. And maybe they’ll finally be able to communicate how much they mean to each other.

Daryl Dixon was a force of nature.

A beautiful, broken piece of art.

I was surprised when I seemed to be the only one to notice this.

Everything about him seemed to draw me in. My admiration for him only grew more and more every day that I spent with him and with every new thing that I learned about him.

His fierce, intense, searching, blue eyes were something I could easily get lost in if I had allowed myself.

His rough exterior and troubled past tugged at my heart, calling out to me to take care of him. To show him what real love felt like. I had always been one to gravitate toward more reserved people and Daryl was the most reserved person I had encountered. He was made out of layer after layer of complex feelings, emotional armor and self-destructive tendencies. And even though I was persistent in my quest to learn the very core of this man that had been abused and taunted into building up these walls, I fell in love with each intricate piece of him.

It became clear one afternoon when Carol caught me watching him that she understood my high regard for the man, but she and I both knew my adoration ran deeper and from a different place than her’s.

From the second I met him at the quarry I was drawn to him. At first because I was angry, lookin’ for a fight and he and his brother were an easy way to get one. But then after Merle went missing, after the CDC, something changed.

I didn’t stop hanging around Daryl. He made me feel safe. I was scared to get too close to anyone else, because I had lost everyone at the beginning, but for some reason I just kept coming back to Daryl. And slowly, he became the most important person in the world to me. Even as I allowed myself to integrate wholly into the group, allowing myself to forge a family once again, I never strayed far from Daryl. His safety, taking care of him, was always the priority.

He never questioned my presence; his way of telling me he didn’t mind it, maybe even enjoyed it. So I continued to seek him out. Even when we found the prison and began to build it into a home I hardly left Daryl’s side. That was just the way things were then. We had become a team. A unit. Two halves making a whole.

Our relationship remained unlabeled, but everyone could see how deep our bond ran. They saw the way I looked at him. But it was left unspoken.

After the prison fell we got separated, though I managed to stick with Rick and Carl through the chaos. Later on we found Michonne and were traveling as a group toward the promise of a safe space called ‘Terminus’ when we encountered the claimers. When Daryl stepped out of the treeline I let out a sob at the sight of him, so relieved to finally see that he was alive and uninjured. His eyes met mine as I knelt on the ground, one of the claimers holding a gun to my head, and I saw the panic and hurt there. He tried to reason with them, begging the group he had been traveling with not to hurt us, even offering himself as a sacrifice instead. Finally once everything had gone down and the claimers had been dealt with I ran to Daryl, flinging myself into his arms. He held me tightly, spinning me around as he hugged me. “’M so sorry.” he kept saying. “I didn’t know what they were capable of.” but I hushed him, burying my face in his neck as silent tears rolled down my cheeks “I know Daryl, I know.”

He didn’t let me out of his sight after that. Well, not until Terminus.

But all of that was behind us now. We were here in the Alexandria safe zone. At first we had all been wary of another promise of sanctuary, though deep down we all desperately hoped it was real. The first couple nights there Rick had us all staying in his house, not wanting the group to be divided until we knew it was safe. But once Rick became comfortable we were all allowed to choose places to live and claim rooms to sleep in.

It went without saying that Daryl and I would be sharing a room and though it was a bit awkward at first because we had never shared a bed before neither of us was willing to separate from the other.

I came to really like Alexandria. To cherish the peace that it provided.

But of course nothing is perfect.

In this case, the problem was that not everyone had clued in on the Daryl and I’s unspoken relationship.

I skipped down the steps from the porch fronting the house where Rick, Carl, Carol, Michonne, Judith, Daryl and I lived, on my way to find Rick when Deanna’s oldest son, Aiden I think, approached me. “Hey.” he said, falling into stride next to me. I nodded stiffly, only turning partially to acknowledge him “Hi.” I returned his greeting. I was trying to give Aiden the benefit of the doubt but I got bad vibes from him the second we walked through the gates so I was hesitant, not to mention I had had enough experiences with people these days to know to be wary of men.

“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” he said, painting a charming smile across his lips. A hint of a scowl drew my features together when I realized he wasn’t going to take a hint so easily. “To find Rick. Need to ask him s’mthin’” I say, vaguely, trying not to encourage any more conversation.

Aiden nods, picking up his pace a bit to walk backwards in front of me. “Mind if I join you?”

I give him a deadpan look, silently telling him that I do, in fact, mind while I say “Guess not.”

His grin only gets wider. Clearly he is either the thickest idiot I have ever met or an arrogant bastard who believes himself to be irresistible. I’m leaning toward the latter.

“So, how are you liking Alexandria?” he asks. I shrug. “It’s nice. Though I don’t think you people have any clue how bad things really are out there.” I say candidly. He quirks an eyebrow in amusement at that. “Well Sweetheart I think you’re underestimating me. I was in the ROTC before all this shit.” he says, gesturing around us. I scoff loudly and stop walking, turning fully to face him in the middle of the street.

“Alright asshole listen up, first of all never call me sweetheart again. Second, you can walk around here acting like you know everything and boasting about your time in the ROTC,” I say in a mocking voice. “But the truth is you wouldn’t last a day out there without these walls to keep you protected. You have no fucking idea about the shit I’ve seen, been through and even done. So take a hint dumbass, and hit the road. I’m not interested.”

Aiden’s face is slack with shock but I see annoyance making it’s way onto his features. He huffs, indignantly, “Whatever. It’s not like I really was interested either. You’re not my type.” Aiden sneers, looking pointedly down at my body.

I open my mouth to set him straight when suddenly I hear Daryl’s familiar angry growl behind me. “The fuck did you just say to her?!” he snarls, stepping in front of me and marching forward until he’s chest to chest with Aiden.

I see Aiden hesitate for a moment but when his eyes dart over Daryl’s shoulder to the crowd that our confrontation is attracting and he tenses up, ready to resist to protect his pride.

“I was just putting this fat bitch in her place. She’s got no right to reject me like that.”

The sentence is barely out of Aiden’s mouth when Daryl plants his hands on Aiden’s chest and shoves him back before swinging a punch that lands squarely on the younger man’s left eye.

Aiden fell back onto his butt and Daryl stomped toward him, looming over him threateningly “How dare ya speak ta her like that! Fucking piece of trash!” Daryl spit venomously. The Monroe boy scrambled up from the ground; pissed.

“Wha’did you just say to me you redneck piece of shit??” he yelled, lunging at Daryl and knocking him to the ground. I jolted forward into motion once I shook off my shock. “Daryl, don’t!” I cry, tugging at Daryl’s shoulders. The fight had quickly turned in Daryl’s favor and now he was straddling the younger man’s torso, pinning him to the ground while he mercilessly ripped into him . Aiden is no match for Daryl and while normally I would love to let Daryl teach the sonofabitch some manners, the people of Alexandria are watching, and we don’t need to give them another reason to mistrust us. “Get off!” I command, grabbing Daryl once again when he shrugs me off. This time he allows me to pull him away. He’s panting heavily and his glaring eyes don’t leave Aiden when I try to talk to him -who is laying on the dusty ground cupping a hand to his bleeding nose.

Finally, I step in front of him, directly into his line of sight, effectively blocking his view of Aiden. “You need to calm down.” I tell him firmly. When his gaze finally flickers over to me my demeanor softens a bit. “He’s not worth it.” I say quietly, nodding my head toward the crowd of horrified bystanders. Daryl’s eyes dart to the Alexandrians and he steps from side to side like a caged in animal, like he might pounce on anyone at any moment. But he allows me to speak gently to him, not quite calming him down but getting started. “Let’s go back to the house and get you cleaned up before we have to deal with this.” I say lowly, gesturing to the group of people- including Rick, Deanna, Michonne, Glenn, Nicholas and Reg-that are marching toward us.

Daryl nods hesitantly and allows me to pull him in between two houses, slipping away in the crowd before the leaders can reach us.

We amble between the houses and the wall, keeping a low profile on our way home just in case. “Ya know, you didn’t need to do that.”

Daryl gives me a sidelong glance but I continue looking ahead. “I mean, I appreciate it and all but you know I can take care of myself and right now we’re skating on thin ice so you and I have to be very careful of what we say and do.”

Daryl grunts in acknowledgement. “I know...just...couldn’t let that asshole say those things about you. They ain’t true and he has no right to speak to you that way.” he grumbles, getting himself worked up again.

I nod, my eyes drifting to the ground.

“Hey,” he says, stopping and turning to face me, very gently tugging on my arm to get me to stop next to him. “Y’know what he said’s bullshit right?”

I nod certainly. “Of course, yeah. I just...I can’t help but feel like I’m not worth the trouble. I know what he said was wrong but we probably should’ve just left it. I mean, he’s Deanna’s son!” I say, anxiously tapping my fingers against my thigh.

“Bullshit” “Yeah, you said that already.” I joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. Daryl gives me a look and I see it’s not working. I sigh. “All I’m saying is he’s an asshole but assholes are everywhere and we have to pick and choose our battles these days.”

Daryl shakes his head. “Alright, fine. But I choose this battle. You didn’t deserve what he said to ya!”

“I know, but in the grand scheme of things someone hurting my feelings is not that important!” I argue. Daryl grits his jaw in annoyance. “I mean, Daryl, thank you for standing up for me and all but seriously, why waste your time on this? I don’t care what he says about me.” “I care!” “Why??” “Because it ain’t true!” Daryl shouts. I go silent, seeing the distress on his face and waiting for him to explain further. He fidgets in agitation, running his hands through his hair roughly and pacing back and forth the tiniest bit.

“You just...” he starts but draws his mouth closed into a tight line when he can’t seem to think of the right words. I still wait, knowing if I’m patient he’ll spit it out eventually. He huffs but finally turns to face me fully, stopping his strides, to look me in the eye.

“Look you just don’t understan’ but you’re probably the most amazing person I’ve met and he ain’t got the right to treat you like that. You’re smart an’ strong an’ brave an’ always looking out for everybody else ‘fore yourself. You’re wise an’ easy to talk to an’ you make me feel like I might be worth somethin’ so I just think someone should do the same for you.” he says, with notes of pleading and stress in his voice. He’s afraid I won’t believe him. And coming from anyone else, normally I wouldn’t have believed all those good things spoken about me, but with Daryl, he would never say it if he didn’t think it was true. Not to mention I could see it in his eyes. He meant it.

He sighs, calming down a bit, embarrassment taking over as his gaze scans my shocked features. “Yer a good person Y/N...and no one should ever treat ya as less.” he mumbles, alternating between looking at the ground and meeting my eyes for a split second through the ends of the hair that hangs over his forehead.

I am taken aback; my lips parted in surprise. My heart swells. I let out a light, airy laugh that seems to catch on the breeze that tousles my hair. “Thank you.” I whisper. My eyes shine, smiling all their own as my mouth twitches up at the corners.

Daryl clears his throat, hanging his head to avoid eye contact and toeing the ground. “Yeah, ‘course.” he mutters.

I smile again as I replay his confession over in my head. I have always felt the same way about him and it makes my heart swell to know that he sees me in such a beautiful way.

He clears his throat awkwardly once again and motions over his shoulder “We should probably keep going.” he says before turning and continuing our walk home. I hang back for a minute, watching him walk away; my admiring eyes dancing over his figure. Everything about him, from his gait to the dirty red shop rag hanging out of his back pocket, is perfect to me. I shake myself out of my thoughts and jog to catch up with him, sweeping his hand up into my own when I reach his side. He turns to look at me curiously at the contact but I keep my eyes trained ahead, pretending not to notice. He copies this action after a moment of studying my profile but then I feel his hand subtly tighten it’s grip on mine. I bite my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“I love you.” I tell him, still not turning to see his reaction, though I feel his body stiffen. After all of the sweet things he said about me I need him to know that I feel the same, that he means as much to me, even if I had been afraid to say the words out loud before. I think he knew, but he deserved to hear it. His grip on my hand becomes even tighter. “I know.” he whispers and I smile a soft, quiet sort of smile because it makes me want to cry with happiness that he said those words to me. Daryl Dixon knew that I loved him. And that was precious to me.

“I love you too”

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Happiness Isn't Here, Chapter 2 (Jan-centric) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Jan really wants to be friends with Crystal’s girlfriend, Nicky. Gigi struggles to comprehend her attraction towards Jan. Brita gets further invested in Jan’s love life and confesses why she was so drawn to Jan.

ao3 link

It had been three days since Crystal had texted Jan, and Jan was getting frustrated at the lack of follow-up. She and Brita had visited most, if not all of the spots Crystal frequented, but to no avail. And now Jan was out for a jog, hoping to either clear her mind or have a breakthrough with a new idea. But all she got was a leg cramp and a strong pang of hunger.

There was a convenience store towards the end of the block, so Jan decided to do a quick shop. She wanted to get home right after and take a shower, flushed red and drenched in sweat from her run, she knew she must’ve looked like a hot mess.

Jan started to walk down the snack aisle, but instantly backed out and hid. “Oh, come on,” she whined to herself before carefully peering back into the aisle. Sure enough, Crystal was there and oblivious to Jan’s presence, much to her relief in her given state. “Wait, who’s that?”

A woman walked up to Crystal and wrapped her arms around her from behind. The first thing Jan noticed was that this woman – this unfairly gorgeous woman – was dressed entirely inappropriately for a trip to the convenience store. This woman was dressed for a high-end cocktail party, wearing a little red dress and black stilettos with hair that must’ve had taken at least an hour to style. She didn’t seem to belong in Missouri at all.

“Yeah, that’s Nicky,” a familiar voice pulled Jan from her thoughts.

“Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jan jumped slightly, putting her hand to her chest.

Gigi shrugged. “Not as long as you’ve been staring, I imagine,” she mused, then looked Jan over. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

Jan huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “I went on a run, thank you very much. I did a whole… half a mile.”

“Oh shit, didn’t realize you were training for a triathlon,” she teased.

“You too?” another woman, presumably one of Gigi’s friends, chimed in out of seemingly nowhere. “What’s your routine? I’m pretty sure I’ve got mine down, but-”

“It was a joke, Kameron,” Gigi cut her off.

Kameron wasn’t alone either, as a shorter brunette joined her side. “Who’s your friend, Gigi?” she asked. “This the girl from the party you was talkin’ about?”

Jan smirked as she looked from Gigi’s friends back to her. “You were talking about me?” she asked, twirling her ponytail around her finger.

“Never,” she retorted dryly. “Jan, let me introduce you to two friends, one brain cell. This is Kameron and Vanessa.”

“Vanjie.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “She goes by Vanjie.”

Jan offered the two of them a bright smile. “So nice to meet you guys,” she said, though her attention started to shift when she heard the click of high heels on linoleum getting louder and the conversation between Crystal and Nicky entered earshot.

“Who’s the sweaty girl with Gigi?” Nicky asked with perturbed confusion.

“What?” Crystal looked where her girlfriend was pointing. “Jan?”

“You know her?”

Crystal swallowed thickly, her eyes darting back and forth between Nicky and Jan. “No! I mean yes. I mean… kind of?”

“Kind of?” Gigi chimed in. “I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are,” Jan jumped in to assure. “It’s just been a while since we saw each other at summer camp,” she explained, happy to be able to tell the truth. “It’s been a while, we were–”

“Ten!” Crystal abruptly cut in. “That’s why the details are a little hazy, you know? It’s been so long.”

Jan furrowed her brows and looked at Crystal with a mix of hurt and confusion on her face. She tried to meet her eyes, hoping she’d explain, but to no avail – Crystal wasn’t looking at her at all, her eyes were fixed on Nicky.

Nicky did look skeptical, though she didn’t say so. “Well, you did smoke away most of your brain cells, I guess that makes sense,” she decided, watching as her girlfriend’s entire body relaxed in relief. Then her attention shifted to Jan, whom she offered a polite smile. “So nice to meet you,” she said, offering her hand out – not to shake, it was more like she was presenting it on display.

Not that Jan questioned it; she surmised that it fit the way Nicky carried herself. “The pleasure’s all mine,” she chirped, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“What is it that you do?” Nicky questioned as she looked her over.

“Jan’s a lawyer!” Crystal jumped in yet again, though this time it appeared to be in Jan’s defense. “You just started at a firm out here, right?”

Jan nodded, ignoring the way her chest was still aching. “Yeah, it’s been going super well so far. What about you, Nicky?”

“I am a professional hairstylist,” she answered stiffly. “I do Beyoncé’s personal trainer’s sister’s hair, it’s very high-profile.”

Both Gigi and Crystal, with slight grimaces, had opened their mouths to say something, but Jan cut right in. “Really? Oooh, how fun! You should totally let me know if you’re ever taking new clients.”

Crystal winced and once again tried to interject, but Nicky answered before she could. “I do think I can fit you in, as a courtesy at least. Since you are a friend of Crystal’s,” she told her, then rifled through her purse until she pulled out a business card and handed it to Jan.

While neither Jan nor Nicky had noticed how Crystal was stressing out and Kameron and Vanessa had long since wandered off, Gigi noticed and cocked her head to the side so Crystal would follow her down the next aisle. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” Crystal insisted. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea for Jan and Nicky to be friends. You know how she gets.”

“I guess,” Gigi shrugged. “But Jan seems pretty non-threatening, it’s not like you guys fucked or anything, right?”

She swallowed thickly. “Right. Because we only knew each other as kids and that would be weird,” she reminded herself, not wanting to forget the lie she’d established.

Her friend was dubious, but allowed it to slide. “So… Jan is definitely available, then?”

Crystal’s eyes lit up, this was perfect. “She is. Are you into her, Geege? Because you should ask her out, she’s great. And you’re great. So it would be, you know, great.”

Gigi shrugged, glancing down. “I dunno,” she told her, though a slight smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

Before Crystal could argue her case further, Nicky rounded the corner. “Crystal, come on, we’re gonna be late,” she whined.

“We better go,” Crystal said to Gigi. “But think about what I said.”

——

Jan looked at her phone – 12:48 pm. She was a bit early for her hair appointment, by no accident. As soon as she stepped inside, she wanted to try to fit in a bit of a tour.

The salon reminded Jan of the one she would visit during the winter break she had spent in Beverly Hills. It was clean and chic and everyone who worked there could’ve moonlighted as a Victoria’s Secret model. Normally, she wasn’t intimidated by that, but she found herself cutting her tour short as anxiety started twisting her stomach into knots. Sure, she was used to the high-end life, but that didn’t make her ‘cool’. Jan didn’t know how to be cool – her ideal Friday night consisted of Chinese food, a bottle of wine, and her library of bootleg musicals.

But Nicky? Nicky oozed cool out of every invisible pore. It sent Jan back to her middle school days when she would see the popular kids and silently yearned to unlock the secrets to social acceptance. And while thirteen-year-old Jan had found the answer when she started high school without braces and with newly-developed D-cups, things were far less simple in adulthood.

“Jan?” The girl at the front desk pulled her back into reality. “You can go ahead and take the middle chair. Nicky will be right with you.”

Jan nodded and thanked her as she moved to take her seat. By the time Nicky made her way over, her racing thoughts had slowed to a walking pace, something she was eternally grateful for.

“Your hair is so thick and smooth,” Nicky observed, a hint of surprise in her tone. “You’re Italian?”

“Half Italian, half Jewish,” she confirmed. “Lots of hair on both sides.”

“I could tell from your arms,” she remarked offhandedly, but by then she was massaging shampoo into Jan’s scalp, rendering her too blissed out to register the comment.

Jan was entranced almost instantly, and she understood why Nicky worked at the only salon in Springfield with a near five-star rating. She had gotten actual massages that were less satisfying, and she was already certain she would be happy with any final result. “So, how long have you and Crystal been together?” she asked after a brief silence, curious as to how her answer would compare to Gigi’s.

“Since I moved here in the tenth grade,” Nicky answered. “Not consistently, but that isn’t the important thing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re together now,” Jan murmured through gritted teeth, regretting bringing it up in the first place and deciding to change the subject. “This place is so nice, how long have you worked here?”

Nicky was too focused on Jan’s hair to notice the shift in tone. “About a year and a half, I cannot complain, but the goal is to open my own salon. I even think I can poach some of these girls to come with me,” she told her. “But securing a space is impossible.”

“I work in real estate law, you’re preaching to the choir,” she nodded, though her mind was already doing a speedrun of ideas. This was the ‘in’ she needed, how she could win Nicky’s favor and be her friend.

The comment didn’t connect the dots for Nicky, who finished Jan’s hair and spun her around. “And we’re done, what do you think?”

Jan gasped, her eyes bright and wide. It wasn’t an act, she was genuinely impressed with what Nicky had done. She had only trimmed a couple of inches off, but the styling was pristine, she never wanted to wash her hair again because she was afraid she could never get it back to this. “It’s gorgeous, oh my God.” As she got up and paid her, she added “Don’t stop thinking about getting your own salon, in fact, text me the info about the space you’re trying to secure,” with a wink.

Nicky’s intrigue outweighed her trepidation. “I guess you can give it your best shot, then. Landlord’s a real asshole, though.”

——

Brita eagerly led Jan into an empty conference room and set a folder down on the table. “Okay, so, what’s the plan? Before you say anything, I already looked it up and we can’t deport her to France unless we frame her for murder.”

Jan shut the door behind her and rushed to Brita’s side with concern and confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? No one’s being deported or framed for murder or… seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you were up to at your little hair appointment? Getting close to Nicky to find her weaknesses and exploit them to get her out of the picture? Everyone overshares at hair salons, it’s just how it works,” she explained as she opened the folder up. “I printed out all of the important social media posts dating back from when she started dating Crystal.”

“Brita, that’s eleven years’ worth of posts!”

She scoffed. “And? Do you want your happy ending with Crystal or not? Nicky is an obstacle in your way, she is the enemy.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “I don’t want her to be the enemy. I like her. She’s so cool and pretty and she smells nice and–”

Brita grabbed Jan by the shoulders and shook her. “Listen to yourself! This isn’t the Jan and Nicky love story, it’s the Jan and Crystal love story. The last thing you need to do is go all starry-eyed over, and I cannot stress this enough, Crystal’s girlfriend.”

“Okay, so, I get that you wanna help and I really appreciate it, but I promise I totally have this under control. You keep working on your plans, I’m sure they’re great.”

She sighed and let go of Jan. “I’m sorry, I know I’m intense and everything, but I just really like you and want to help you. I’ve always wanted a daughter, you know? I have a fourteen year old son, and he’s an asshole.”

Jan’s expression softened. “Aw, I didn’t realize… but that’s sweet, and it’d be nice to have a mother figure that isn’t massively disappointed in me right now. Don’t ask, it’s a story for another day.” Ideally that day would never come, but she didn’t expect Brita to let her off the hook on that either. “On that note, um, don’t get mad, but I’m getting brunch with Nicky tomorrow. But it’s a business brunch.”

“A business brunch?” Brita looked at her skeptically.

“I’m helping her get her own salon. The landlord’s a jerk but he’s only like, a four out of ten compared to what I’ve dealt with. And…” she strummed her fingers against the table as she tried to think on her feet. “Think of it this way – if she’s busy at her own salon, she’ll have less time with Crystal.”

Brita beamed and cupped Jan’s face, squishing her cheeks. “There’s that Harvard-Columbia brain at work, I knew you had a plan. You didn’t need to worry me like that, missy.”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line and nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

——

Jan tried to keep her conversation with Brita in mind when she was out to brunch with Nicky, she really did put in an effort. But then she found out mid-mimosa that they got the location for the salon and Nicky showered her with gracious praise and it all went out the window. Jan’s latent praise kink and overwhelming desire to win Nicky over was more than enough to keep her from heeding Brita’s warning.

So, it didn’t end at business brunch. They wound up back at Jan’s house, talking, laughing, drinking, as if they had been friends this whole time. And Jan was becoming more and more convinced that in the end, she could have the best of both worlds – she could have Crystal as her girlfriend and Nicky as her bestie. There was no downside in that, right?

“Have you heard of The Nebula?” Nicky asked as she set the glass down on the coffee table, “It’s this cool, exclusive club downtown. Crystal and I were planning on going tomorrow night, you should come.”

Jan nearly spilled her drink with how quickly she perked up. She almost couldn’t believe this had worked so well and so fast. “Really? Oh my god, yeah, that’d be so much fun. I am such a club girl.”

“You’re so fun,” Nicky giggled, resting her head on Jan’s shoulder. “I love how fun you are, we’re gonna have the best time ever. You’re totally not the cunty east coast bitch I thought you’d be.”

“Aw, thank you!” Jan hugged Nicky from the side.

Nicky had ended up staying into the late afternoon, waiting until she was sober enough to take care of some things at the salon, but happily reminded Jan several times over that they would be going to The Nebula the next day at nine.

——

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind or not?” Crystal prompted as she watched Gigi absentmindedly clean the same glass for the third time.

Gigi looked up, finally putting the glass away and tossing the towel over her shoulder. “You know damn well I try to keep my head empty at any given moment.”

Even though Crystal might have agreed at times, she wouldn’t take that as an answer. “Come on, you’ve been weird ever since we all ran into each other at the store the other day.”

“I just…” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “What’s her deal, anyway?”

“Who?”

“Jan.”

Crystal smirked. “See? I knew you liked her. You never act like that around girls like you did at the store. I don’t know what the hold-up is, she’s cool.”

Gigi snorted. “Cool isn’t the word I’d use, babe,” she retorted dryly, then added, “you sure she’s not into you?”

“What? Of course not. I told you already, we were kids, remember?” Despite how comically suspicious her voice was, Gigi didn’t push her any further, so she continued. “Hey, Jan’s coming with us to Nebula tonight. You should come, it could be like a cute double date.”

After a bit of hesitation, Gigi nodded. “Yeah, alright. My shift ended ten minutes ago anyway, I just gotta get home and change.”

The four of them met at Jan’s house, as she lived the closest to downtown, and took an Uber (Jan happily upgraded them to the best option) to the club. Considering they were four attractive women in mini dresses, they were granted entry easily and went right to ordering rounds of drinks.

It only took a few drinks to get Crystal and Nicky on the dance floor, giggling and grinding to the beat. But Nicky stopped after a couple minutes when she realized Jan and Gigi were still lingering awkwardly at the table, and simply had to remedy that. She jogged back to the table and grabbed both of them by the arm. “Come on, Jan, dance with Gigi,” she insisted, pushing them together.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Jan admitted as she draped her arms around Gigi’s neck. “This doesn’t seem like your scene. Like, you probably think the music is too generic and the drinks are too sweet.”

“Well, both of those things are true.” Gigi rested her hands on Jan’s waist, the two of them doing the bare minimum to count as dancing. “But Crystal dragged me out and I thought it might be fun to watch you get drunk and make an ass out of yourself.”

Jan scoffed. Sure, she was a lightweight and already tipsy, but she thought she could ignore it if she tried hard enough. “Why don’t you get me another drink then, Captain Cynical?”

“Oh, I’m a captain? Here I thought I was just Lieutenant Cynical,” she teased, then let go of her to go to the bar.

While Jan was waiting, Nicky came back over and pulled her to dance with her and Crystal. “You and Gigi look good together,” Nicky remarked.

“You’d look good with anyone,” Jan mused playfully. “Oh my god, if we hooked up, we’d all be even!” She gasped, gesturing between the three of them and giggling at what she thought was a funny observation.

But Nicky and Crystal all but froze in their tracks. “What do you mean by that?”

Jan glanced at Crystal, suddenly remembering the lie she’d helped commit to. “I just, um…” To her relief, Gigi had rejoined them at that moment. “Oh good, you’re back!” She quickly took the drink and started to down it.

“No, no, tell me what you meant by that,” Nicky insisted.

Realizing she had been caught, Jan thought the only option was to tell the truth. “I meant, well, you and Crystal are together, and we, um… used to be…”

“You both said you weren’t,” Gigi cut in. “You both insisted you weren’t. What the fuck?”

“I just didn’t wanna make things weird!” Crystal defended. “But… yeah… Jan and I were actually sixteen when we met and um… did stuff.”

Nicky’s face reddened with anger. “I can’t believe you both lied to me!” She turned to Crystal. “We are leaving and will be talking about this. And you,” she turned to Jan, “just stay away from us.”

Although Jan tried to object and plead her case, Nicky was already storming out of the club with Crystal in tow, leaving her alone with Gigi. “Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.”

“For a Harvard-Columbia grad, you’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?”

Jan pouted and nodded.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Jan nodded again.

Gigi wrapped her arm around Jan’s shoulders and walked her out of the club and got into an Uber with her once it arrived.

The ride was quiet, enough so that by the time they arrived at Jan’s house, she was asleep with her head in Gigi’s lap.

Being rail-thin and fragile looking in comparison, Gigi struggled carrying Jan into the house and placing her on the couch. “God, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she muttered to herself before taking the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Jan.

Just as Gigi was in the middle of contemplating if she should stay or leave, Jan started to wake up. “Ah, it lives.”

Jan looked around, slowly realizing that she was on her couch, and that Gigi tucked her in. She pushed herself to sit up a bit. “Um… thank you, you know, for helping me in. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I know you’re probably pissed at me too.”

“Oh, I am,” Gigi readily assured. “But you look like a sad baby deer, so I can’t just abandon you, I guess,” she decided. “You need help getting to bed, Bambi?”

“Please,” Jan mumbled. The two of them went upstairs and Jan stepped into the bathroom to get changed and wash her face. Then once again, Gigi tucked her into bed.

Once Jan was sound asleep, Gigi went downstairs and crashed on the couch. But she woke up early in the morning and left without a trace. Without the alcohol softening her heart, she found herself mad at the fact that she so easily overlooked what Jan did in favor of taking care of her. And what was worse was that she still liked her.

When Jan woke up, she went downstairs, only to find her house empty. She felt a pang of disappointment, only to perk up at a knock on the door. “Gigi?” No answer, so with another wave of hopefulness she asked “Crystal?” as she opened the door.

“How funny, Gigi and Crystal are exactly who we need to talk about,” Brita huffed as she walked inside. “You are skating on thin ice,” she warned, walking Jan to the couch and sitting down. “What happened last night?”

Jan sighed. “Nicky found out Crystal and I were together and now she hates me and Gigi took me home. That’s it.”

Brita pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was afraid of this,” she muttered and took a deep breath. “It’s fine, we just need a new plan.”

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #crystal methyd #gigi goode #brita filter #nicky doll #brooke lynn hytes #kameron michaels #vanessa vanjie mateo #gigi x jan #crystal x jan #crystal x nicky #lesbian au #s12 #joley #happiness isnt here #rare pair

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travllingbunny · 5 years ago

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Clarke Griffin’s memories and images in her mindspace

In this post I will list all the drawings from Clarke's mindspace seen in season 6 of The 100 (in episodes 6x06, 6x07 and 6x10) that we have been able to spot - most of which (over 90 of them! Yes, this is gonna be a long post) we've been able to identify, with image comparisons to scenes from the show.

First, credit where credit is due: this idea first came from @ofnailbatsandaxefives who identified many of the drawings and made a bunch of side to side comparisons last year after 6x07 aired in this post.

I later tried to identify the rest of the drawings, with the help of a few people here and on Twitter (rewatching the show also helped), but this resulted in an endless number of reblogs. Episode 6x10 Matryoshka also had more drawings that weren't in 6x07 Nevermind, some images were misindentified, and I decided to redo all the images with better resolution screencaps.

Big thanks to everyone who helped in identifying some of the trickier images (many of them are on Twitter and I don’t know if they have Tumblr profiles), especially (Twitter handles) SheiGarche (who identified several of these and corrected some of my mistakes), Lovestory813, BellarkeMood, taunadora, becki_travels, fabiana_vec, indreamswake, KindZouzou and my Tumblr mutual @jeanie205 (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone).

See also my earlier post about Sets, props and costumes in 6x07 Nevermind.

As a BONUS in addition to the images on Clarke’s memory wall, I’ll also go over audio flashbacks heard at the end of 6x06, in 6x07 and 6x10 - as a mix of voices representing Clarke’s jumbled memories. Many of them can be heard and identified in the episodes, but special thanks to (Twitter user) klarksbell for removing the background sounds from the scenes so some of the background voices could be heard clearer.

(In a follow-up post. I’ll go over Clarke's drawings from her Shallow Valley home in season 5, which we also saw in the mindspace version of her Shallow Valley home in her happy place; and those we saw in season 5, many of which overlap as the set was re-used for 6x07. I’ve also noticed that the art department used many of these drawings for the drawings representing Clarke’s memories on her mindspace wall.)

Before I start listing the moments from Clarke’s memory wall - her mindspace version of the actual cell in Skybox she used to be locked in on the Ark - let’s compare the two different versions of this wall. The first one was seen in the very last scene of 6x06 Memento Mori - where we first learned Clarke was still alive (yeah, yeah, of course no one really bought it that she was dead ;) but it was still such a Hell yeah moment) and in 6x07 Nevermind.

But when we saw Clarke in her mindspace again in 6x10 Matryoshka, the walls were different: there were at least 3 new images that weren’t seen in 6x07, and many other images were moved around and placed in different ways. Which does make sense, as Clarke’s mindspace was reacting to her states of mind, so we should probably assume it was always changing, with different memories being more or less prominent at any given time.

And finally here are the identified images with side-by-side comparisons. Some were obvious and taken straight from the scenes (I've been told there's a software for that), others are a bit less straightforward (and several of them were also seen as Clarke's drawings in season 5).

I'm going to do them chronologically, not by episode but by when those things happened in Clarke's life.

Starting with the image of Clarke and Wells as children on the Ark (confirmed by Jason Rothenberg on Twitter). The closest thing in the show is the video of them Jaha watched in 1x12.

The next one was tricky as it's not a scene from the show either. It was first misidentified as Clarke watching what ALIE showed her in 3x16, nuclear plants melting on Earth, but that scene is shown in another drawing. It shows a young girl watching the Earth from the Ark. We've decided that this is young Clarke on the Ark. I used the Octavia flashback scene from 1x06 for comparison to show this is a window on the Ark and a view from there (not because it's the same scene - which it can't be,as this wouldn’t be Clarke’s memory). But the girl looks younger and is touching the window as if yearning for Earth.

Flashbacks in 1x03, a year before the Pilot: Abby and Jake during the happy times; Jake when Clarke overheard him tell Abby that Ark was dying and he'd go public with it; Wells when Clarke told him about it.

1x01 - there are more images from the Pilot than from any other episode.

The first scene of the show - the image on the floor in the mindspace version of Clarke's cell in Skybox is the same image she drew on the floor of her actual cell.

This portrait of Abby seems to represent the next scene where Abby told Clarke she was being sent to Earth. When the camera zoomed on it in 6x06, we heard the dialogue from that scene over it ("Clarke, I love you so much!" - "Mom?")

When the camera zoomed on this pic of Wells on the dropship in 6x07, we heard Wells' voice saying "Welcome back" as he did in that scene.

I've been told that the inscription from the Ark we see below is a Chinese proverb that means, more or less, "A friend in need is a friend indeed".

"We're back bitches!" twice - the second is from Clarke's POV. The first one was one of the drawings Josephine touched and we (and Josephine) heard an audio flashback of it and this, uh, memorable line.

Mount Weather - the first time Clarke saw it, after landing.

I spot the same image among Clarke's drawings we saw in her Shallow Valley home in season 5, though it was really tiny in the background.

More scenes from the Pilot:

1x03

It's a pity that the plan to have Eli Goree guest star in 6x07 didn't work out, but at least we had many Wells images and even in the voice memories - I clearly heard Clarke telling him "How can you forgive me?"/"I blamed you because my father's dead and it's my mother's fault."

1x04 Finn with one of the pencils from the shelter he found, trying to impress Clarke.

1x05 Brief time of Clarke being happy and infatuated, right before Raven arrived and her heart got broken for the first time.

There was a bit of disagreement about this Bellamy image (or images). It shows up as a part of the drawing of him torturing Lincoln in the scene from 1x07 on one of the walls, but it also appears on its own on the ceiling:

@SheiGarche believes that, since this appears as a part of the Lincoln torture scene, the Bellamy image must be from that episode. However, while the rest of the scene 100% matches the 1x07 scene, Bellamy's image doesn't match - in posture or expression - anything from that episode. On the other hand, especially when you look at the Bellamy image on its own, as it is on the ceiling, it looks most like a drawing based on the scene from 1x02 - "I heard you have a gun''...

I think that the ceiling drawing represents season 1 Bellamy in general, and was drawn based on the 1x02 scene. OTOH, the art department made the 1x07 image from the 1x07 scene but couldn't get a good Bellamy angle so they edited in that same Bellamy image in. You decide.

https://youtu.be/Cj37TWjBwvE?t=59

A Raven portrait, which is probably not about any particular scene (some images just represent certain characters), but it most closely matches this love-triangle moment from 1x08.

The same portrait was seen as one of Clarke's drawings in season 5.

1x09 - negotiations with Anya and the Grounders on the bridge. Also the first time Clarke has ever seen horses in real life.

1x13

Probably some of the Grounder warriors who got burned in the Ring of Fire, but this scene clearly indicated that Clarke was thinking about closing the door on Finn and Bellamy and that they may have been burned.

2x01

This image gave us so much trouble, until it turned out it was just a random woman from Mount Weather who yelled "CONTAINMENT BREACH!" when Clarke entered the mess hall dragging Maya and saw all the people sitting there.

Another one of character portraits that are probably not important for any particular scene or moment. But going by Miller's hair and facial hair, it can only be season 2 Miller at the time he and Clarke were both in MW (this is from 2x02).

Ending of 2x02:

2x03 - Escape from Mount Weather

2x04 Anya after Clarke beat the crap out of her and managed to win their fight. "You fought well".

Now a few more character portraits. This image of Raven with a brace doesn't 100% fit a scene from the show, but it looks a lot like this promo pic of her - except for her red jacket, which she wore in 2x05 when Clarke first saw her with a leg brace.

Since Jaha has a beard and hair, it can only be from season 2 or 3, which limits it to 2x07 or 3x16, the only times he and Clarke were in the same place. I used 2x07 image of non-chipped Jaha, when he came to Camp him and argued for Arkers leaving, pitting him against Clarke,as this would’ve meant abandoning her friends to their fate in MW.

Portrait of Indra - also probably not about any particular scene, but it looks like their first meeting in 2x07. It was also among Clarke's drawings in season 5.

2x08 This image is one of the few that were not seen on the memory wall in 6x07, but appeared in 6x10. Maybe it's because the ALIE projection said in 6x07 her most painful memories were not on the wall - and the scene of Clarke killing Finn was only seen represented in her dark place by the pole and knife. Maybe she was able to process some of those memories better by 6x10?

2x09 Raven holding Finn’s dead body

This profile of Lexa is probably not from any particular scene, but a general image of the warrior leader/ally Lexa from S2. I used the scene of her making a speech in 2x15, but there were scenes in 2x09 (like when she told Clarke that Love is weakness) that looked similar.

2x10 Well, an attack by giant mutant gorilla would be pretty memorable to anyone.

2x11 I previously thought this image of people in radiation suits (also seen among Clarke's drawings in S5) was from 4x12/13, but looking more closely, now I think these are Mount Weather Ground unit guards - specifically, are Emerson and the other Mountain Man who tried to assassinate Clarke in 2x11. The outfits, helmets, guns are the closest match.

2x12 Clarke's guilt over letting the MW missile drop on the people in Tondc was referenced not just in 6x07 when her projection of Octavia called her out on writing her off there, but also in 6x10:

Josephine: I wasn't always like this.

Clarke: I know the feeling. I mean, look around you.

*Josephine looks at this big image on the wall*

2x15 - breaching the Mount Weather door

I'm about 95% sure that this picture of Lexa is her betrayal in 2x15.

2x16:

"Together" - "Together"

3x01 The most important character in the show! LOL

...seriously though, this little bunny (? who looks more like a squirrel in the drawing?) that Clarke used as a bait to catch a panther, stands for the 3 months Clarke spent in wilderness.

The only image of Niylah on the wall. It's the scene when she lied to protect Clarke when Roan and a bounty hunter came looking for her.

Another character portrait not related to a specific scene, and another one that was seen as one of Clarke's drawings hanging in her Shallow Valley home in S5. Going by the hair and beard, it's seasons 3-4 Kane, so I used the scene of his and Abby's meeting with Clarke in 3x03.

3x04

3x07 - there are 3 images of Lexa from this episode

Lexa smiling during the talk in which she asked Clarke to stay - this is the most prominent of the images of Lexa (one of the images that appear multiple times on the wall + had a flashback). Seems these softer moments are larger in Clarke's mind than warrior/leader Lexa.

The second most prominent image of Lexa (one of the pictures the camera zoomed in on in 6x06, when we also heard the dialogue among the audio memories - "Can we talk about something else?" - "We don't have to talk at all").

and Lexa right after she was shot by Titus.

3x11 What turned out to be the most important of all Clarke's memories, as it contained info on the neural mesh and how Raven was freed from ALIE and that Clarke has to remove from the wall and hide from Josephine.

3x13 Luna, refusing the Flame

3x15 When Clarke didn't break and give ALIE the password and it almost cost her her mother's life. This drawing was previously misidentified as Murphy being hanged in S1 - some thought there were two hanging scenes, but there's just one and it's clearly indoors.

3x16 - there are several scenes from the City of Light. Including the image of the COL itself. You can see even see the tiny figures of Lexa and the people she's fighting.

What ALIE showed Clarke: the Earth, full of nuclear plants melting, telling her about the upcoming Praimfaya.

Clarke pulling the kill switch and destroying COL

One of the first things Clarke saw after returning from the City of Light was Murphy is one of his most heroic moments - pumping Ontari's heart so Clarke could take the Flame.

4x01

This one seems a bit random: it's a moment when Indra came and hugged Kane while Octavia, Clarke, Bellamy and Abby were already there in the Grounder shrine - but I think it's important as the scene when they all discussed what to do in the situation and Clarke told them all about Praimfaya.

Roan, after agreeing to an alliance because of Praimfaya, giving a public speech in Polis to say that 'an attack against the 13th clan is an attack on all of us'.

The drawing of Arkadia is another one that was hanging in Clarke's Shallow Valley home in season 5 - and was also seen in the mindspace version of that home in 6x07. I used a scene from 4x03.

4x04 There are 3 scenes from this episode, and all of them have to do with Jasper. The first two are two of Jasper's pranks: "floating" Jaha, and the prank Jasper pulled on Clarke. But the mood of the latter got ruined because he had already found the List before Clarke came in. (Josephine touched this drawing briefly in 6x07 and we heard the audio flashback: (Monty: "Clarke, wait..." - Clarke: "Really?" )

And what happened right after, in the same scene, when Jasper started telling everyone present about the List. (Jasper's angry comments can also be heard clearly among the mix of voices at the beginning of 6x07 - more about that later)

The portrait of Emori is probably from 4x07, when they had their first major interaction. It was also one of Clarke's drawings that could be glimpsed in the background in S5.

Skip the next one if you don't want to see an image of a person dying a gruesome and painful death in a radiation chamber.

4x08 The unfortunate Grounder thief from the Rock Line clan whose name we never learned, at the moment of his death.

4x10 Octavia in the Conclave - more of a symbolic representation (with the sigils around her). This was a very prominent drawing in Clarke's sketchbook that we saw a couple of times in season 5.

4x11 Another one of the 3 images that weren't seen in 6x07 but were in the second version of the memory wall, in 6x10 - Clarke pointing a gun at Bellamy to stop him from opening the bunker door, before she broke down and cried. The drawing even shows Clarke’s hand with a gun.

4x12 the rocket in Becca's lab

4x13 Clarke being left behind in Praimfaya and watching her friends leave while she was aligning the satellite dish so they could get to the Ring and survive.

This was also another prominent drawing from Clarke's sketchbook we saw in season 5.

There's another scene from 4x13, but that one happens 6 years later, so I'll come back to it later...

5x01 Post-Praimfaya

Polis was Clarke's destination after she left Becca's lab - trying and failing to open the door of the bunker after the temple had collapsed on it. Then realizing she'll be alone for at least 5 years.

Then she went to Arkadia, where she only found "ghosts" - the chest with Maya's music player, Jasper's goggles and his letter to Monty (as we saw in the flashback in Clarke's "dark place", where the chest played an important role).

The bird that kind of tried to eat Clarke (?), showed Clarke where Eden was, and then got thanked, shot and eaten by Clarke.

Shallow Valley

This image is both a memory of 6 year old Madi (not the moment they met, but when Clarke was drawing her while she was fishing), of Clarke drawing her and of the drawing she made and gave Madi to make friends with her.

Madi and Clarke, but some 6 years later. This image was prominent of at the beginning of 6x07 when we saw a flashback of it when Clarke touched it ("I'm sorry they left without you" - "If I was with them, I never would've met you").

4x13 - 2199 days after Praimfaya: Gagarin transport ship, the moment when Clarke saw it clearly and realized it wasn't the ship she was hoping for ("Never mind, I see you"), but one to be afraid of.

5x03 - Makes snse that images of Diyoza, Shaw and McCreary are all from the episode where they captured and tortured Clarke.

5x04

Bellamy reuniting with Clarke.

Coming out of the bunker.

5x06 - Madi watching Octavia practice.

5x09 - There were quite a few changes between the memory wall in 6x07 and 6x10, and the most obvious one was seen right after Clarke woke up in her mindspace - the big image of Bellamy when Octavia arrested him and right before Clarke left him at her mercy in Polis.

5x12 - This is one of the rare drawings that doesn’t fully represent a memory correctly as Clarke saw it. But it makes sense to me that Clarke remembers it this way - seeing Madi in pain when she zapped the shock collar to stop her from leaving and going to war. But in fact, the screenshot shows Madi shocked that Clarke put a shock collar on her. Clarke closed her eyes and had her back turned to Madi, because she couldn’t watch it when she actually zapped the shock collar, and only heard her scream.

This was another drawing Josephine touched and had a flashback of (we heard Madi screaming and Clarke saying “I won’t let you die in this war”), commenting "Child abuse dressed up as protection!"

5x13 - Clarke pulling the lever to close the door of the Gagarin ship, after waiting until the last moment for Bellamy to come in, closing the door after Bellamy, Monty, Emori and Murphy were inside and the missiles were already hitting the Earth.

One last image. It's clearly Madi, and with the horizontal placement of the drawing, I thought it was Clarke putting Madi in cryo. But it turns out the same image - only vertical - was one of her drawings she had in Shallow Valley in season 5... so, I don't know.

There are other images that we couldn't link to anything specific or weren't sure. Mostly locations, objects and nature images. 1) A forest? 2) Waterfall/rocky shore? 3) Rubble?)

If anyone identifies any of them or notice other images or anything else, I’ll be editing and reblogging this post.

BONUS - audio memories

ending scene of 6x06

vimeo

Lines I can hear:

over the image of Abby: Abby and Clarke in 1x01: "Clarke, I love you so much!" - "Mom?"

"I'm scared"? - this line can be heard clearly but I don’t know who it is. It sounds like a child, but I don’t thin Madi or Charlotte ever said it.

Finn in 1x01 when they see the deer: "No animals, eh?"

Madi in 5x11: "I love you, Clarke" (the entire line was “...but we’re on the wrong side of this war”

Clarke to Wells in 1x03, after learning the truth: "How can you forgive me?"

Madi to Clarke in 5x01, during the scene by the fire: "I'm sorry they left without you."

Bellamy trying to convince Clarke not to leave in 2x16 “You don’t have to do this alone”.

Clarke to Madi in 5x12, as she puts a shock collar on her: "I will not let you die in this war!"

over the image of Lexa in bed with Clarke - Lexa and Clarke in 3x07: "Can we talk about something else?” - We don't have to talk at all."

over the image of Bellamy: Bellamy to Lincoln in 1x07: "You're gonna give us the antidote or you're gonna wish you had". Other lines whispered in the background:

Bellamy in 2x16: "(If you want forgiveness) I'll give that to you"

Bellamy during his reunion with Clarke in 5x04: "Clarke, you saved us all."

"This is how we get to peace" (sounds like Bellamy but Clarke was the one who actually said it in 5x08)

Bellamy in 1x07: "Who we are and who we have to be to survive are two different things."

opening scene of 6x07

vimeo

Clarke to Wells in 1x03: “I blamed you because my father’s dead and it’s my mother’s fault” (heard while Clarke is looking at the wall with the image of her parents, among others)

(over the image of Wells) Bellamy: “Who else knows about this?” (in 1x04, when Clarke realized one of the Delinquents had killed Wells)

(also over the image of Wells) Wells: “Welcome back!” (1x01)

(over the image of Roan & Lexa fighting in 3x04: “It’s always something with you!” – Roan to Clarke in 4x01

we also hear Lexa’s and Roan’s grunts during their fight

(over the two images of Madi) Madi (5x11): “I love you, Clarke”

Madi screaming when Clarke zaps the shock collar in 5x12

Two angry lines by Jasper are overlapping as the camera slides from Lexa to Bellamy:

as we see Lexa in focus: “Truth hurts” - Jasper in 3x11, after ALIE!Raven blamed her for the deaths of Jake, Wells, Finn & Lexa

as we see Bellamy in focus: “I found your list. I guess we know who really matters to you” (Jasper in 4x04)

Madi in 5x12: “I’m not a child anymore, Clarke. I’m the Commander, and my people are dying”

(ETA) Jasper yelling “We are Apogee!” and Clarke, Octavia, Monty and Finn yelling happily with him, just before he gets speared in the Pilot

Clarke in 3x11: “I let her get to me.”

the flashback to Madi and Clarke by the fire in 5x01 “I’m sorry they left without you” - “If I was with them, I never would have met you”

more of Jasper’s ranting in 3x11: “I was going to save everyone!” (talking about his plans in 2x16 to kill Cage)

flashback to the Pilot, as we see the drawing on the floor: “Prisoner 319, face the wall!” Some of the lower volume lines in the background, which can only be identified after the background noise was removed:

Bellamy to Clarke in 3x11, after ALIE!Raven had made her lost it: “I’ll let her beat me up for a while.”

ALIE-controlled Raven yelling “Let me go!” in 3x11, when she’s trying to find out the location and help ALIE, and everyone grabs her and subdues her

Octavia in 2x16: “I know where my loyalties lie!”

Bellamy in 5x09, when he brought Madi to see Clarke in her cell: “Clarke, this isn’t goodbye”.

I also hear someone yelling "Octavia!", and mentions of Jasper’s and Jaha’s names.

Josephine and Clarke in 6x07

vimeo

Josephine touching images and we hear flashbacks of scenes from 1x01 (”We’re back, bitches!), 5x12 (Madi screaming when Clarke puts a shock collar and Clarke saying “I won’t let you die in this war”) and 4x04 (”Clarke, wait...” - “Really?” when Clarke got covered in foam as Jasper pranked her). There are many other whispered lines I don't recognize.

In 6x10, however, everything was mixed up - Clarke's and Josephine's memories were all mashed up, because the boundaries between their minds were disappearing - so it’s pretty much impossible to make out anything. But Clarke’s memories are probably the same mix as in 6x07, because I can still hear Wells saying "Welcome back".

vimeo

If anyone notices something I did not, please tell - I will edit this post with any new info!

#the 100 #clarke's mind space #clarke's memories #clarke griffin #the 100 6x07 #nevermind #the 100 season 6 #the 100 6x10 #matryoshka

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