#I really want to know what the connection is though

[cherryxbooo]

Chosen

Summary: You feel dragged around by Oscar, always sidelined in favor of his friend group with no say in their or his plans. But what happens when the bucket finally overflows?

Note: Hey everyone I'm back, and this time with the long-awaited Oscar fic. I just wanted to let all of you know that the second semester of uni has started, so I want to apologize in advance for my inactivity. I hope you enjoy this one! 🌸

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the sun was just starting to dip behind the clouds, casting a soft glow through the windows.

Oscar and I were sprawled out on the couch, his arm wrapped around me, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my arm.

The TV was on, but neither of us was paying much attention to it. We were content, enjoying the stillness of the moment, the quiet of our own little world.

"I’m glad we’re finally having a day to ourselves," Oscar murmured, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down my spine.

He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a caress.

"Me too," I whispered, leaning into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the soft musk of his skin.

"It feels like it’s been forever."

His laugh rumbled through his chest.

"I know. Feels like we’ve barely had time to just... be."

We sat in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence that only comes from being with someone you truly care about.

I felt safe here with him, like I could stay wrapped in this moment forever, untouched by the outside world.

It was these small, quiet moments that made everything feel okay.

Oscar shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me.

"Hey babe, so, my friends are meeting up later. You know Jack and the others—"

I blinked up at him, already sensing where this was going.

"We’re going to meet up with them?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but it was a little harder than usual.

"Yeah, just for a drink," he said, his expression brightening, clearly excited about it.

"You’ll come, right?"

I smiled, but it was more of a reflex than anything.

"Sure, of course."

Oscar didn’t seem to notice my hesitation.

"Awesome. I know everyone will be happy to see you."

He leaned in to kiss my forehead, and I held my breath for just a second, trying to push down the tightness that had suddenly crept into my chest.

But I couldn’t help it. Inside, I felt... different.

I should’ve been excited, right? After all, meeting up with friends was supposed to be a good thing.

It was supposed to be something I looked forward to.

But instead, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a knot tightening in my stomach.

The truth was, I didn’t feel like I was part of his world when we went out with his friends.

Not really. Not like I belonged, at least. They weren’t unkind, it was just like I was an outsider.

I tried to insert myself into conversations, but they always slipped back into their own comfortable rhythm, talking about racing, about sim racing, about things I just didn’t have the same connection to.

I wasn’t part of that world, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never quite bridge the gap.

And it always seemed like they didn't want me to be part of their conversations either.

But I couldn’t tell Oscar that. He loved his friends. And I loved him.

So I went along with it, even though it made me feel more like an accessory than a partner sometimes.

I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want to be the girlfriend who said no when he asked her to join him.

I didn’t want to be the one who got in the way of his friendships. If I didn’t go, they’d talk behind my back.

I knew they would. And I didn’t want to be that girl. The one who held him back or made him feel like he had to choose.

So I smiled, nodded, and said, "Sure, of course," even if it wasn’t how I felt.

Oscar’s voice broke through my thoughts. "You’re quiet. Everything okay?"

I blinked up at him, forcing my smile to stay in place. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking."

He smiled back, completely unaware of the turmoil inside me.

"Alright, then. I’m looking forward to it."

I nodded, but my thoughts wandered again. There was always this underlying feeling that I wasn’t really meant to be there.

When Oscar wasn’t around, I could feel the silence in the air, like I was standing on the outside of their inside jokes, and no matter how much I tried to join in, it was always just a little too late.

It was easier when Oscar was right there beside me, talking to me, pulling me into the conversation.

But the second he was distracted, even for a moment, it was like I was invisible.

And no one noticed. Not even him. It was like only his friends existed and I didn't have any.

The worst part? It wasn’t just this one time.

It was every time. It was a routine, something that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

I had tried. God, I had tried so many times to get him to come out with my friends.

Tried to bring it up casually, to suggest that maybe, just maybe, I could spend time with my own group for a change.

But it always got brushed off, like my friends didn’t really matter as much.

"Oh, babe, I thought you wanted to hang out with me," he’d say,

always with that playful grin, as if the suggestion that I might want a night out with my friends was absurd.

"Come on, you don’t want to miss out on the guys." And before I could even reply, he'd already be dragging me into some new conversation with his friends or making plans for something with them.

At first, I thought maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe one night with his friends wouldn’t hurt.

But then it happened again. And again.

And each time, my attempt to spend time with my own friends was met with that same dismissive ease, as if it wasn’t even an option.

I couldn’t tell him how much it stung. I didn’t want to cause tension or make him feel bad.

He was just... excited to be with his friends. And I was happy for him, really, I was.

But the more I gave in, the more I realized how much I was missing out on my own life, my own connections.

But I could never say it. Not out loud. Because I didn’t want to disappoint him.

I didn’t want him to think I didn’t care about his friendships, or worse—be seen as the girlfriend who couldn’t handle being around his friends.

I kept telling myself I was being unreasonable, that it was normal to spend so much time with his group. But deep down, I knew I was giving up something of myself every time.

And still, I went along with it. Like I always did.

"Alright, I’ll get ready," I said, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in my chest.

"Let’s go meet them."

Oscar grinned, clearly happy to see me gearing up for the night.

"I knew you’d come through," he said, giving me a quick, playful kiss on the cheek.

I returned his smile, but inside, I was already bracing myself for the evening.

For the smiles and the jokes, for the moments where I’d try to laugh along, to fit in, to make it through the night without feeling like I was losing myself a little more with each passing second.

I could do this. For him. Always for him.

But as I stepped into the bedroom to change, I couldn’t help but sigh.

Oscar and I arrived at the pub just as the evening sky darkened, the neon signs casting a warm glow against the wet pavement.

The usual buzz of London nightlife was already in full swing, and I could feel the energy in the air, but it felt so far removed from me.

I could hear the laughter and chatter before we even stepped inside.

Oscar grinned, pulling me by the hand toward the door, and I followed him through the dimly lit space, the noise growing louder with each step.

Inside, the group was already gathered around a corner booth, half of them already in animated conversation.

Mark waved enthusiastically when he saw us, and Max glanced up from his phone with a nod.

The others—Jake, Sam, and Alex—were busy talking, their voices overlapping in that easy camaraderie they all shared.

Oscar, being Oscar, was immediately pulled into the conversation, his friends already excitedly discussing whatever they were talking about.

Probably something related to their latest weekend plans or their favorite shows.

He easily fell into the rhythm of their group, nodding along and laughing, without even sparing a glance at me.

It felt like I was invisible, sitting on the edge of this conversation I didn’t quite belong to.

"Hey, Y/n!" Mark said with a grin, leaning over to give me a fist bump.

"How’s it going?"

"Good, good," I mumbled, trying to smile. "Just... chilling."

I took the seat beside Oscar, settling into the booth but immediately feeling the weight of the conversation happening around me.

Oscar was already in a deep conversation with Mark and Max, nodding along and laughing at something one of them had said.

His arm was draped over the back of my chair, but he wasn’t really looking at me.

His attention was all on them. And for some reason, tonight, it felt more obvious than usual.

I glanced at the table, at the half-empty drinks, the clinking of glasses as the guys cheered each other on.

And there I was, on the edge of it all, nursing my drink, my eyes flickering around the room but never really landing anywhere.

Tonight, I wasn’t even trying to engage anymore. It felt pointless.

I wasn’t sure if I had given up or if I was just... tired.

Tired of trying to fit into a space that didn’t feel like mine.

At some point, the conversation shifted, and I overheard Mark suggesting that they should all go snowboarding for the weekend.

The thought of a weekend away, filled with snow and action, was enough to make their voices rise a little louder, their enthusiasm palpable.

But what caught my attention wasn’t the idea itself—it was how quickly Oscar jumped on board.

"Yeah, that sounds awesome," he said, nodding without missing a beat.

"We can go that weekend. It’s perfect."

And just like that, the plan was made.

Everyone agreed, and the group easily fell into the flow of arranging details.

But what made my chest tighten was how Oscar didn’t even hesitate.

Not even a moment's thought. He was already locked in with them.

But worse—he didn’t even ask me.

He didn’t even look at me to see if I had plans or if I had something I wanted to do.

He just assumed, and what hit me harder was when he added, without a second thought, "Y/n will come with us, too."

Like I was an afterthought. Like my opinion didn’t even matter.

I froze, my stomach twisting.

That weekend was the same weekend I had planned to hang out with my own friends.

The same friends I hadn’t seen in forever, the ones I was constantly sidelining to go to Oscar’s hangouts.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Oscar’s friends—I did, in my own way.

But the more this happened, the more I realized just how much I missed my own group.

I missed their jokes, the way we could just talk about anything and everything without the weight of racing and sim setups hovering over us.

I missed me—the version of myself that wasn’t always Oscar’s girlfriend, the one who had her own life too.

I was getting tired of always saying "yes," of always being the one who dropped whatever I had planned to follow him into his world.

But when I looked at Oscar, when I saw how excited he was to go snowboarding with his friends, I knew he wouldn’t understand.

He wouldn’t get why it bothered me that he didn’t ask, that he just assumed I’d follow him wherever he went.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I needed to say something.

I should say something.

"Hey, Osc," I started, my voice just a little too tight.

"I had plans that weekend, actually... with my friends."

He didn’t even look at me.

He was still talking to Mark, leaning forward, already discussing the finer points of the snowboarding trip.

"Oh, you’ll be fine," he said with a wave of his hand. "It’ll be fun. Everyone’s going, right?"

He didn’t hear me. Didn’t even try to.

He just waved me off, like my plans didn’t matter.

I opened my mouth to say something, to try again, but before I could, Oscar’s attention was already back on Mark, and he was talking to Max about which resort to go to.

I felt the words catch in my throat, lost amidst the noise, as he dismissed me without even realizing it.

"Just wait, okay?" Oscar added his voice light, distracted.

"We’ll talk about it later, but let’s figure this out first."

And just like that, the conversation moved on.

I closed my mouth, my shoulders sinking.

I could feel the old familiar wave of frustration building up inside me, usually, I would just bite my tongue and swallow my pride.

But this time, something inside me snapped.

I was fed up. This was the last straw.

It wasn’t just the snowboarding weekend—it was everything.

The constant pushing aside of my feelings, my plans, my life outside of his world.

The way he always assumed my presence without ever considering what I wanted.

The way he took me for granted, not even realizing how much it hurt.

I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

I couldn’t keep swallowing my frustration just to keep the peace.

I didn’t want to be the girlfriend who was always there, who always said yes, who always smiled and nodded.

I was done.

Done pretending.

Done sacrificing my own happiness for his.

Done being an afterthought in my own relationship.

It was time for me to finally say something.

After hours of the guys planning their trip, talking and laughing— it was finally time to wrap it up.

I couldn't be more relieved but there was still one thing on my mind and that was confronting Oscar.

We sat in the car as Oscar drove us back home.

The car ride home was silent.

Oscar drove with his usual relaxed demeanor, one hand on the wheel, the other resting absentmindedly on my thigh.

Usually, that gesture made my heart flutter, but tonight it felt more like a formality, a habit.

Something that no longer had the warmth it used to.

I stared out the window, watching the blur of city lights pass by.

My jaw was clenched so tightly I was starting to feel the ache in my teeth, but I didn’t care.

The frustration, the hurt, all of it was bubbling up inside me.

I knew I couldn’t go to bed tonight without getting it out. I had to say something.

So I did.

“Oscar.”

He hummed in response, eyes focused on the road ahead, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.

I hesitated, just for a moment.

But the frustration couldn’t be contained anymore.

“Why do we always hang out with your friends?”

His brow furrowed, and his eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning to the road.

“What do you mean love?”

I turned in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest, fighting the tightening in my throat.

“I mean every single time we go out, it’s always with your group. I never get to see my friends. You never let me make plans with them. Just yours.”

My voice wavered a little. “I always have to tag along.”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, and he sighed. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” I said, my voice sharp.

“You always say ‘next time,’ but next time never comes. And when I bring it up, it’s like I’m asking for the world. I sit there with your friends, feeling like I don’t even exist, and you’re too busy to notice.”

His eyes flicked to me again, then back to the road.

“Y/n, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

I blinked, stunned by his response. “Are you serious?”

“What?” He shot me a quick look, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“You’re acting like I’m forcing you.”

“You do force me, Oscar,” I snapped, my voice rising.

“You never ask. You just expect me to go along with whatever you’re doing. And the one time I try to suggest something for me—something with my friends—you brush it off, or you convince me I don’t need them.”

My eyes stung with frustration.

“I’m not your accessory, Oscar. I’m not just supposed to be there when it’s convenient for you.”

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s not how it is. You’re making this into something it’s not.”

I shook my head, eyes staring out the window.

“Then explain it to me. Explain why it’s always you and your friends. Why it’s always your plans, your world, and I’m just... here. When’s the last time we did something you didn’t drag me into?”

There was a long pause, the only sound the hum of the tires against the road.

Oscar’s jaw clenched, and I could feel the shift in his energy like he was gearing up to defend himself. But nothing came.

Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“You’re being selfish, Y/n. I don’t ask you to come every time. If you didn’t want to, you could just... not come. But you don’t, so don’t act like I’m forcing you to be there.”

My stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” he said, voice tight.

“Why do you care so much? It’s not like they don’t like you.”

“That’s not the point, Oscar!” I practically shouted.

“The point is, you don’t make the same effort for me! You know, the person you’re supposed to care about? I follow you around like some lost puppy. I sit through conversations I don’t even understand, I pretend everything is fine, and every time I try to tell you how I feel, it’s like you don’t hear me. You don’t see me. It’s always about your plans, your life.”

Oscar glanced at me, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, a vein popping in his neck.

“I’m not saying it’s perfect. But it’s not like I’m ignoring you, Y/n.”

“Then why do I feel so damn invisible?” I shot back, my voice trembling now.

“I’m not asking for the world. I’m just asking for a little bit of effort. Just a little bit of balance, maybe, where my life matters too.”

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his voice dropping with a sigh.

“God, Y/n, it’s not a big deal. I don’t understand why you’re making this such a huge issue.”

“Not a big deal?” I let out a bitter laugh.

“You don’t get it. You never get it.”

Oscar’s frustration boiled over.

“You’re being unreasonable. I can’t change everything just because you’re suddenly upset about it. You're such a drama queen.”

His words stung, but I wasn’t backing down. I was done pretending.

I was done giving in.

“No, you can’t change everything overnight, Oscar. But you can start by acknowledging that I’m not just here for your convenience. I’m not just your plus-one to every single thing. I’m me. And I have my own life, my own friends, and I need you to care about that, too.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick. Oscar’s jaw was clenched, his knuckles white against the wheel.

The air was thick with the weight of our words, of all the things we’d said that hadn’t been said before.

He didn’t respond at first. Just kept his eyes on the road, the car humming beneath us.

And I could feel the tension in the car, the space between us growing wider, like a chasm I wasn’t sure we could cross.

But I wasn’t going to back down.

“I’m not asking for everything, Oscar,” I whispered, almost to myself.

“I’m just asking to not feel like I’m invisible anymore.”

Neither of us spoke for the rest of the drive.

The night felt colder than it had before.

The drive home felt endless.

By the time we pulled up to our apartment building, the weight of everything hung thick in the air between us.

Oscar turned off the engine, his hand moving from the wheel to rest at his side, but he didn’t look at me.

He didn’t say anything.

The silence was louder than the car’s engine had ever been.

I sat there for a moment, my heart racing, my mind buzzing. I had hoped he would say something, anything.

An apology, an explanation. But he didn’t.

He didn’t even seem to want to acknowledge the fight we’d just had, the frustration and hurt I’d tried to lay out for him.

I wasn’t going to let this fester. Not again.

I took a deep breath, unclipping my seatbelt. Oscar still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t looked at me.

I reached for my bag, not even bothering to look his way.

His silence felt like the final nail in the coffin.

“I’m going to my best friend’s,” I said, my voice steady but cold.

Oscar’s gaze flickered toward me briefly, but his lips stayed pressed together, the weight of his pride holding him back from speaking.

I didn’t need to hear him say it; I already knew.

He was too stubborn, too set in his ways to admit he’d messed up.

I didn’t look back.

I grabbed my things and slammed the door behind me, making my way away from him.

It was truly a blessing that my bestie only lived 10 minutes away from us.

So I started walking, not even glancing back as I didn't want to see him anymore.

I didn’t know if I was more angry or heartbroken.

I should have known.

Oscar had always been more about his pride than admitting his wrongs.

He wouldn’t change, not now, not when I needed him to.

When I finally arrived at my best friend’s place, I knocked on the door with urgency.

As soon as she saw me, she opened it wide, pulling me inside without a word.

I collapsed into her arms, my body shaking as the tears I had been holding back for so long finally broke free.

“Hey, hey,” she murmured, her voice full of concern.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t even know where to start,” I sobbed, wiping my eyes.

“It’s Oscar. He doesn’t… he doesn’t listen. I’m not important to him, not the way he’s important to me.”

Her expression softened, and she guided me to the couch, sitting beside me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I began to pour everything out.

“I feel like I’m just... a shadow in his life. I don’t exist in the way he does with his friends. We’re always with his group, and my friends are pushed aside. Every time I try to make plans, he shuts them down. And tonight… tonight, it was the last straw. I tried to tell him, but he just didn’t get it. He didn’t care. He just sat there, not even apologizing or acknowledging how hurt I was. I... I’m so tired of being invisible.”

She listened intently, not interrupting me, just offering a comforting presence as I vented.

When I finally fell silent, she pulled me into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she whispered.

“You don’t deserve to feel like that. You’re worth so much more than how he’s treating you.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself relax in her arms for a moment.

I wasn’t ready to be okay, but at least here, I didn’t feel alone.

After a long while, she pulled back slightly, her gaze soft but serious.

“You know... everyone has missed you. We’ve all been wondering why you’ve been so distant lately. We haven’t seen you in forever. It’s like you’ve disappeared, and no one knew what to say.”

I sniffled, guilt crashing over me.

“I didn’t mean to shut everyone out. I just… I don’t know. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve been so wrapped up in him. I should’ve been better.”

She shook her head, her expression softening.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. But you do need to come out with us tomorrow. You need to make it up to yourself, too. And to us. We miss you, Y/n. You need to have fun again, and be around people who actually appreciate you for you.”

I wiped my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“You’re right. I’ve been so caught up in all of this that I forgot how to just... live. Yeah, I’ll go out tomorrow. I think I need it.”

She smiled warmly.

“Good. It’s time to get back to the things that make you happy. And if Oscar isn’t seeing that right now, then maybe it’s time for you to remind yourself of what really matters.”

I nodded, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders.

I wasn’t okay yet, but for the first time tonight, I felt like maybe I could be.

I wasn’t alone in this. And tomorrow—tomorrow, I would take a step back into my own world. For me.

As we talked about the plans for tomorrow, I could feel the tension in my chest easing, replaced by a tiny flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, I could start finding my way back to who I was before all of this.

Maybe it was time to stop losing myself.

A few weeks had passed, and I could feel myself slowly beginning to piece my life back together.

It wasn’t easy, but with the help of my best friend and some distance from Oscar, I was starting to remember who I was.

I was going out with my friends again, laughing and enjoying moments I had let slip away.

I even started picking up some old hobbies I had abandoned—reading, painting, and just spending time on myself.

I had a sense of peace that had been missing for a while.

But, despite all that, there was still something—or rather, someone—missing.

Oscar.

He’d tried reaching out to me multiple times, sending texts, calling, but I wasn’t ready to face him, not yet.

I couldn’t just pick up where we left off.

Not without feeling like I was compromising a part of myself again.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always there, lingering on the edge of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to focus on myself.

I tried not to think about him too much.

One afternoon, I was standing in the grocery store, trying to figure out if I was in the mood for pasta or a salad for dinner, when I turned a corner and nearly ran into someone.

“Oof!” I exclaimed, stumbling back a bit.

I looked up, ready to apologize, but then my words caught in my throat.

It was Oscar.

For a moment, neither of us moved. I was frozen, staring at him, and he was doing the same.

He looked… different. Tired, maybe? But still, unmistakably him.

The way his eyes locked onto mine, the way he hesitated for just a second as if he was unsure how to approach me after everything.

It hit me harder than I expected.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Hey. Uh… wow. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I forced a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes.

“Yeah. Small world, huh?”

We both stood there for a beat, unsure of what to say next.

I could feel the tension in the air, thick with the unspoken words between us.

“How… how have you been?” he asked, his voice tentative, like he was testing the waters.

“I’m good,” I said, my tone a little stiff.

“Just been… figuring things out, you know?”

His eyes softened, and he looked like he wanted to say something more, but then I spoke again, cutting him off.

“What about that snowboarding trip? Didn’t you and your friends plan that?” I asked, my voice holding a bit more edge than I meant.

Oscar’s expression faltered, his gaze dropping for a moment.

When he met my eyes again, there was guilt written all over his face.

“I didn’t go,” he said quietly, almost as if it was a confession.

“I felt… I don’t know. I felt guilty. About everything. How I treated you. The way I didn’t listen.”

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond.

He hadn’t gone? I hadn’t expected that.

But then again, I couldn’t tell if it was because he truly felt bad or if it was more out of obligation.

I didn’t know if I was ready to hear more.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“We can’t have this conversation here,” I said, glancing around at the busy store.

I wasn’t ready to talk in front of strangers, especially not with all the emotion bubbling just under the surface.

Oscar nodded, clearly understanding.

“I get it. Um... we could talk at our- I mean my place? If you’re up for it.”

I hesitated. My first instinct was to say no, to walk away and continue living my life without him.

But something about his tone—something about the way he looked at me—made me pause.

“I… I need to think about it first,” I said, my voice softer this time.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“I understand,” he replied, his voice low.

“Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving.

It felt like the world had stopped for just a second, and I had to remind myself that we couldn’t go back to the way things were.

But then, with one last look, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the aisle.

When I arrived back at my best friend’s place, I was still in a daze.

I walked into the living room, where she was sitting on the couch, and collapsed next to her.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked, looking up from her phone.

But as soon as she saw my face, her eyes softened with concern. “Wait. What happened?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of the encounter with Oscar finally hitting me.

“I ran into him. In the store. We… we talked.”

She raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter.

“And? What happened?”

I recounted everything—the awkwardness, his apology, the way he hadn’t gone on the trip, the way he still seemed so... unsure of what to do with me.

I told her how he asked if we could talk later, and how I had told him I needed time to think about it.

When I finished, she sat quietly for a moment, processing.

“So, what do you think? Do you want to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I’m still so confused. Part of me wants to just leave it behind, but another part of me… I don’t know. I think he really does feel bad. He didn’t go on the trip because of me.”

She nodded slowly, considering my words.

“Y/n, you have to do what feels right for you. But, maybe, just hear him out? I know how much he loves you. And if he’s changed, if he’s willing to try, maybe it’s worth it.”

I let her words sit in the air for a moment, and they resonated in ways I hadn’t expected.

She was right. I needed to make the decision for myself—not based on fear, or anger, but on what I truly wanted.

“Okay,” I said, my voice a little steadier now.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll hear him out. But I’m not going back unless I know things are different.”

She smiled, a glint of understanding in her eyes.

“You’re strong, Y/n. Do what’s best for you. You deserve that.”

I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

Tomorrow, I would take that step.

Whatever happened after that, at least I knew I was doing it for me.

And if Oscar was willing to change, then maybe we could find a way forward.

The next day, after spending the night talking with my best friend and sorting through my feelings, I knew what I had to do.

I couldn’t keep avoiding the conversation with Oscar, not if I ever wanted closure—or if there was even a chance at rebuilding what we once had.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and I wasn’t going to go easy on him.

But I owed it to myself to at least hear him out, to see if he was really ready to change, or if he was just another disappointment I’d have to swallow.

I arrived at his place in the late afternoon, my nerves tangled in my stomach like a thousand knots.

I stood in front of his door for a long moment, my hand hovering over the doorbell.

I hadn’t been here in weeks, and it felt strange—like I didn’t belong in this space anymore.

But I pressed the button anyway, and soon enough, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the other side.

I stood there for a moment, after he opened the door, taking him in.

His eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting like he couldn’t believe I was actually standing there.

But I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

“You came,” he said, a mix of surprise and something else—hope, maybe.

But I wasn’t about to let that sway me.

I nodded, stepping inside, and closed the door behind me with a soft click.

We stood in silence for a few seconds, an awkwardness hanging between us, but I wasn’t about to give in to it.

Not tonight.

I folded my arms across my chest, my posture stiff but determined.

“Yeah. I came. But don’t get too comfortable, Oscar. I’m not here to joke around. We need to talk.”

His eyes flickered, but he didn’t interrupt. Good.

He knew I wasn’t messing around. We both made our way to the couch, and when I sat down, he hesitated for just a second before sitting across from me.

The tension was palpable.

I could feel the familiar walls between us, the ones that had started to form before I even realized they were there.

I stared at him, holding his gaze with a quiet intensity.

“So. You’ve had time to think. I hope.”

Oscar shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of the situation.

But that wasn’t my problem anymore.

“Y/n, I... I didn’t know how to start. I’m sorry for what I did. I know I messed up.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Sorry? Is that all you’ve got?”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean? I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I didn’t care about his apology. I needed to know why he acted like he didn’t give a damn about me.

It wasn’t just about what he did—it was about how he never listened, never even saw how I was feeling. And that? That was unforgivable.

“You’re sorry?” I repeated, my voice dripping with disbelief.

“Really? Oscar, you’ve said that so many times, but you never change. Do you know why? Because you think that saying sorry is enough. You think you can just say the words and expect me to forget how you treated me. But it’s not enough. Not anymore. Not after everything.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t let him.

“You dragged me to hangouts with your friends, never once asking if I was comfortable. You assumed I was fine when I was literally choking on my discomfort, just sitting there, trying not to be invisible. I tried to make it work, Oscar. I really did. I made the effort to be part of your world, even though it never felt like I belonged there. But when I tried to introduce you to my friends? You dismissed it. Over and over again.”

Oscar’s face softened, and for the first time, I saw the guilt settle in his eyes.

He opened his mouth again, but I cut him off.

“No, listen. You don’t get to just apologize and think that’s it,” I continued, my voice firm, unrelenting.

“I gave up my time for you. I sacrificed things that mattered to me, and you never even bothered to try and meet me halfway. When I tried to tell you how I was feeling, you brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It was never about me, Oscar. It was always about you, and that... that’s what broke me.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, shame painting his features. I could see how much it was hurting him to hear this, but that didn’t matter.

He needed to hear it. He needed to understand exactly how much he’d messed up.

“I want to believe you, Oscar. I really do,” I went on, my voice softer now, but no less strong.

“But you’ve got to do better. I’m not some backup plan that you can string along when it’s convenient for you. I’m not going to be okay with you shutting me out and only letting me into your world when you feel like it. I need to see that you’re willing to change. I need to see that I matter to you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt mixing in his expression.

“I do care about you, Y/n. I never meant to make you feel that way. I was just... I was caught up in my own thing, and I didn’t notice how much I was neglecting you. I get it now. I understand. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, unwilling to let him off the hook that easily.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix everything. You can’t just say ‘I’m sorry’ and think that erases the hurt. You have to show me that you mean it, that you’re actually going to put in the work. And no, I’m not just talking about saying the right things. I want to see it. I want to see actions. I want to see you make my world as important as yours. I want to feel like I matter, too. Like I’m chosen, not just tolerated.”

Oscar looked at me for a long time, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words.

I could tell he was genuinely sorry, but he also needed to do a hell of a lot more than apologize.

“I understand,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve been selfish. I’ve been an idiot. I’ll do better. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it. I don’t want to lose you, Y/n.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions.

“You’ve got one chance, Oscar. One. If you really want this, you’re going to have to fight for it. And I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I’ll fight for you. I swear I will. I don’t want to lose what we had.”

I stared at him for another moment, weighing his words. This wasn’t going to be easy.

It wasn’t going to be a quick fix, but something in me—something deep inside—felt a flicker of hope.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice a little more calm now.

“We’ll try again. But it’s on my terms. You have to show me that you can be the partner I deserve. No more half-assed efforts.”

He nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. “I will. I swear.”

I looked at him, trying to read him.

After everything, after all the hurt, there was a part of me that wanted to believe he’d actually changed.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open my heart completely again, but I was willing to give him the chance to prove himself.

“I’m not going to wait around forever, Oscar,” I added, my voice steady.

“If you screw this up again, I’m out. No second chances.”

“I understand,” he said softly.

“And I’ll do everything I can to make sure I don’t mess it up.”

We sat there, in that tense silence, for a few moments.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even close.

But for the first time in a while, I felt like we had a chance.

Maybe that was enough—for now.

The next few days with Oscar were... different.

I wasn’t expecting everything to change overnight, but I could see that he was genuinely trying.

It wasn’t just about words anymore; he was backing them up with actions..

And little by little, I started to see the man I had fallen for, the one who cared about me as much as I cared about him.

The first time I noticed it was when I came home from work one evening to find the apartment filled with the smell of my favorite dinner.

Oscar was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, humming softly to himself as he cooked.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a soft smile.

He turned around with a grin, his face lighting up when he saw me.

“I know, but I wanted to. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything we talked about, and... I want to show you that I can do better. So, I thought I’d start with cooking your favorite meal.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure you didn’t burn anything?”

“Not this time,” he said, giving me a teasing wink.

“I’m learning. Slowly.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

It was little things like this, him taking the time to make something for me, that made me realize he wasn’t just doing it to make up for what happened.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

Because he was present.

Another evening, we were sitting on the couch watching a movie, and Oscar—without being asked—grabbed my favorite blanket and draped it over me, making sure I was cozy.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was thoughtful.

It was him, paying attention to what made me feel comfortable and cared for.

And then came the first big test.

Oscar’s friends invited us out for drinks, and usually, it would have been a given.

He would have agreed without even asking me what I wanted to do.

But this time, as he was texting them back, he turned to me, his expression serious.

“Hey love,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“My friends are asking if we want to go out tonight, but I wanted to check with you first. Do you have any plans? What do you want to do?”

I blinked, surprised. “Wait, you’re asking me?”

He nodded, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yeah, I want to make sure you’re happy too. So, if you want to do something else tonight, we can. I don’t want to just drag you along with them if you’d rather spend time with me.”

My heart melted. It was such a simple question, but it meant everything. smh the bare minimum.

He was considering me, truly thinking about what I wanted for once.

It was the moment I realized he had changed—he wasn’t just saying the right things anymore; he was actually acting on them.

I smiled, feeling the warmth in my chest spread.

“Well, actually, I’ve been wanting to go to that new café downtown. We could grab a coffee and walk around a bit, if you’re up for it.”

Oscar’s face broke into a grin, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness.

“That sounds perfect. Let’s do it.”

As we got ready to leave, he grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently, as if to remind me that he was here, with me.

I wasn’t just an afterthought anymore; I was chosen. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like we were in this together.

The evening was exactly what I needed—a quiet, peaceful time with Oscar.

No distractions, no pressure. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.

And as we walked hand in hand down the street, I realized that I had never felt more at ease with him.

The old Oscar, the one who would disappear into his world without a second thought, was gone.

And in his place, there was someone who truly cared about us, about building something that could last.

I knew it wasn’t perfect, and there would still be bumps along the way, but as we shared a quiet laugh and a moment of ease, I couldn’t help but believe that we were getting there.

That night, as we walked back home, he pulled me closer, his arm around my waist.

“I’m really glad we did this,” he said quietly, his breath warm against my ear.

“Me too,” I replied, looking up at him with a smile.

“I think this is the start of something really good.”

And for the first time in a long time, I truly believed it.

The end

[reidmarieprentiss]

Grass is Always Greener

Summary: based on this ask. Reader is in love with Spencer, he moves on while they're dating. Then reader gets kidnapped and Spencer has some monumental realizations.

Pairing: bi!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: kidnapping, typical CM violence, emotional cheating, bi-sexual Spencer, heartbroken reader

Word count: 7.5k

a/n: i really loved this prompt!! thank you for asking :) there will be a part two by the way don't worry heheh

main masterlist

For the past six months, you and Spencer have been inseparable, caught in the kind of love that novels fail to describe adequately. It isn't just affection—devotion, a deep-rooted adoration that feels like it has existed long before you met, as though you were meant to be intertwined from the start.

You love him in the way you always wished to be loved. You show it in every trim, thoughtful act—baking his favorite pastries just because, ensuring that breakfast is warm and waiting for him before he even wakes up, making sure dinner is ready when he returns home, exhausted but comforted by you.

You bring him flowers, because why shouldn't he receive them too? You find books you know will capture his mind, wrapping them in delicate paper just to see the soft wonder in his eyes when he unwraps them. You plan excursions he'll adore—museum dates, guided historical tours, moments where he can lose himself in the past while you stay anchored beside him.

Your love isn't just spoken—it's lived, woven into every gesture, every detail, every careful thought put into making him feel cherished. Because that's what he is to you—irreplaceable, essential, the other half you never realized was missing until he was there, filling every space with something more profound than connection, something that feels like fate.

If only Spencer felt the same way about you.

—

Your heart stopped. Your lungs refused to work, your breath catching somewhere in your throat like a broken sob that refused to form. The room around you blurred at the edges, your vision tunneling in on Spencer—Spencer, the man you had given everything to, the man you had loved so deeply, so purely, that it had consumed every part of your existence.

"What?" The word came out strangled, barely audible, your voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want to give him that power, but your body betrayed you.

Spencer still couldn't look at you. His hands, which you had held so many times, trembled at his sides. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt. "I thought it was the right thing to do," he muttered, as though that was supposed to make sense, as if that explained anything.

Your stomach churned with nausea, fury, and disbelief. "The right thing to do?" Your voice wavered between a whisper and a scream. "The right thing to do was to fuck someone else?"

Spencer flinched at your words and their vulgarity, but he didn't immediately deny it. That silence spoke louder than anything.

Finally, he swallowed hard and said, "I did not—" he hesitated, knowing every word he chose would dictate what happened next. "—I did not sleep with him."

Him.

It hit you like a freight train, a new layer of betrayal unfolding before you. You stepped back as if distance would protect you from the shattering of your heart inside your chest.

"Then what, Spencer?" You forced the words out, your entire body trembling. "What did you do?"

Spencer's face twisted in pain, in something that almost looked like guilt but didn't quite feel like enough. Not for what he'd done. Not for the way he was shattering you into pieces so small you weren't sure you'd ever be able to put yourself back together.

"I fell in love," he admitted, his voice quiet, like saying it any louder would break him too.

But it wasn't him breaking. It was you.

Your scream ripped through the room before you could stop it. "Spencer, that is so much worse!" Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, grounding you against the overwhelming rush of devastation, betrayal, and fury. "How long?"

Spencer blinked at you, thrown off by the question. "How long?" he echoed as if he didn't understand or know what you were asking.

You took a step closer, the force of your heartbreak pushing you forward even as your body begged to run in the opposite direction. "How long have you been in love? How long have you been emotionally cheating on me like a pathetic, scared loser?"

His breath hitched, his mouth opening and closing like he struggled to find the right words, but there were none. There was no correct answer that would make this better.

Then he said it. "Is this because it's a man?"

You froze, stunned by how wildly he had missed the point. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped you, and you could barely recognize the sound of your voice when you spat, "I don't give a shit what mouth you want to put your tongue in, Spencer." Your hands shook, and you hated it, hated how weak you felt when all you wanted was to be furious enough to drown out the pain. "I care that you didn't respect me enough to tell me sooner! I'm not homophobic; I'm heartbroken!"

That finally made him look at you. Really look at you.

His lips parted slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were just now realizing the gravity of what he had done. As if the wreckage he had left in his wake hadn't been evident from the moment he opened his mouth.

"I didn't—" He stopped himself, inhaled sharply, then exhaled as he could barely hold himself up anymore. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

It was a pathetic attempt at an apology.

"Well, congratulations," you choked out, voice thick with unshed tears. "You did."

Spencer nodded, his expression solemn, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical force. He swallowed hard, and for the first time, he looked humiliated. "I'll have my things gone by the weekend," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Something inside you snapped.

"Fuck you." The words tore from your throat, sharp and unfiltered, dripping with the kind of pain that no amount of time could ever truly erase. "Get it all out tonight and give me the key."

Spencer flinched. His eyes darted up to yours, desperate, pleading, as if something was still left to salvage. "Y/N—"

"Now, Spencer!" you screamed, your voice cracking, breaking under the sheer weight of the moment. Your body was trembling, fists clenched so tight your nails bit into your palms, but you didn't care. You didn't care that tears blurred your vision or that your chest ached like someone had physically reached inside you and torn your heart apart.

Spencer didn't argue.

For once, he didn't try to explain, didn't try to rationalize, didn't try to make this something it wasn't. He simply nodded, defeated, and turned on his heel.

You watched as he moved through the shared space, the home you had built together, now nothing more than a place he needed to evacuate. Every step he took, every moment that passed as he quietly gathered his things, felt like a knife twisting deeper into your already shattered heart.

You wanted to stop him.

You wanted to scream at him to stay, to tell him he could fix this, that you could find a way back to the love you had so freely given him.

But he had already thrown that love away.

And so, instead of begging or breaking any further, you turned your back on him. You wiped your face with shaking hands, steeling yourself against the overwhelming grief threatening to consume you.

When he returned, his bag slung over his shoulder, the key to your apartment sitting in the palm of his hand, you refused to look at him.

Silently, he placed it on the table.

Silently, he turned toward the door.

Silently, he walked out of your life.

And the second the door clicked shut behind him, you collapsed, sobs wracking through your body as you mourned a love lost.

—

It had been an ordinary evening. Spencer had been at the library, fingers trailing along the spines of well-worn books, his mind half-distracted by the text messages you had sent earlier—something sweet, something thoughtful, the way you always were with him. You had made dinner and were waiting for him. He had told you he'd be home soon.

But then he had walked in.

Robert.

It started with a discussion—something about Dostoevsky, of all things. A casual remark Spencer had made under his breath, something about The Brothers Karamazov and moral determinism. He hadn't expected anyone to respond, let alone engage with him in a way that made his brain spark like a live wire.

"You know," Robert had mused, leaning against the bookshelf beside Spencer, "it's funny how people always think Dostoevsky was just arguing for free will. There's a case to be made that he was just as much a determinist as Tolstoy."

Spencer had turned, brows furrowed in curiosity, and he had looked at him for the first time.

Robert had sharp eyes, the kind that saw too much. He was well-dressed but not ostentatiously so—just a crisp button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked like someone who belonged in the pages of the books they discussed.

The conversation had spiraled from there, shifting seamlessly from Russian literature to philosophy to quantum mechanics. It was effortless. Easy in a way Spencer hadn't expected, in a way he hadn't even realized he had been missing.

And then—then there had been the moment.

Spencer had laughed—actually, he had laughed, full and unrestrained. When he glanced up, he found Robert watching him with a warm, unreadable gaze.

"Do you ever have moments when you feel like you were meant to meet someone?" Robert asked suddenly, his voice quieter and more thoughtful.

Spencer's stomach had twisted—not in guilt, not yet, but in something else. Something dangerous.

He should have said no. He should have left then and there and gone home to you, to the person who loved him and was waiting for him with dinner, affection, and unwavering devotion.

But instead, he had stayed.

And that had been the beginning of the end.

—

"Who's Robert Nelson?" you asked absentmindedly, flipping through the stack of mail on the counter. Your fingers lingered on the envelope, the name printed neatly in the return address, unfamiliar but seemingly unimportant—until you felt Spencer tense beside you.

It was subtle, the way his entire body went rigid, but you knew him well enough to notice. The way his breath hitched for just a fraction of a second and his fingers twitched before he suddenly snatched the letter from your hands with an almost defensive speed.

"A friend," he said quickly. Too quickly.

You blinked, startled by his reaction and voice, which sounded too tight or too careful. You tilted your head, studying how his fingers curled around the envelope as if he were trying to shield it from you.

"A friend?" you echoed, your curiosity morphing into something heavier, something uneasy. "Since when have your friends sent you letters?"

Spencer hesitated for just a breath too long.

"Since—uh, since he moved out of state," he said, but his voice lacked its usual certainty, the effortless confidence that usually accompanied his explanations. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes fixed on the paper in his hand as if it held the answer to whatever silent questions you were beginning to form.

You frowned, your heart beating a little faster, that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach growing. "Why haven't you mentioned him before?"

Spencer finally met your gaze, but something in his eyes unsettled you—a flicker of something unreadable, which looked a lot like guilt.

"You never asked," he said softly.

And just like that, an invisible wall settled between you.

—

"Spencer?" you called out from the living room, glancing at his buzzing phone. The name flashing on the screen sent a strange feeling through your chest. Robert Nelson. Again.

Your fingers hovered over the device before instinct took over, and you answered. "Hello?"

There was a brief silence. Then, a smooth, unfamiliar voice. "Oh—uh, hi. Is Spencer there?"

Before you could respond, Spencer was there. He practically ripped the phone from your hand, his grip too aggressive. His fingers nearly fumbled as he clutched it like a lifeline.

"Why are you answering my phone?" His voice was sharp, defensive, almost panicked.

Your breath caught in your throat, stunned by the hostility in his tone. "I—It was ringing. I thought it might be work," you said, your voice quieter now, weaker.

But Spencer wasn't paying attention anymore.

His entire demeanor shifted in an instant.

"Hi, Robert!" His tone was bright and warm in a way that you hadn't heard from him in weeks. His body relaxed, his posture unwinding as he turned away from you slightly as if shielding the conversation from your ears.

And that was when it happened.

The slow, aching fracture of your heart.

You didn't need to hear the conversation. You didn't need to piece together the puzzle. It was already evident.

Whoever Robert Nelson was, he had already taken something from you.

—

"Hey, Reid," Derek called out as he stepped out of JJ's office, stretching his arms over his head. The bullpen was winding down for the day, the usual chatter filling the air. "You gonna invite that little number of yours to 'team bonding' at O'Kieffe's?"

Spencer looked up from his paperwork, brow furrowing slightly. "Robert?"

Derek's expression flickered with confusion, his head tilting. "Who's Robert?"

Before Spencer could answer, Elle interjected, her curiosity piqued. "Wait—who's Robert?"

Spencer adjusted his tie absentmindedly, utterly oblivious to the way both of his coworkers were staring at him now. "My boyfriend…"

A beat of silence.

Derek blinked, his mouth slightly open as if he'd misheard. "What?" His tone was a mixture of shock and something else—concern, maybe. "Since when? What happened to Y/N?"

At that, Spencer finally hesitated, his fingers tightening around his pen.

There it was—that fleeting look of guilt, so quick that anyone who wasn't trained to notice microexpressions might have missed it.

Elle's eyebrows shot up, catching on to the shift instantly. "Yeah, what did happen to Y/N?" she echoed, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze locked on him.

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He hadn't prepared for this conversation and hadn't thought about how it would sound when he finally said it out loud.

That he had left someone who loved him more than anything.

He said that he had fallen for someone else while still wrapped in the warmth of Y/N's love.

Her name, which Spencer used to say with so much affection, now felt like a reminder of what he had destroyed.

His silence lingered just a little too long.

And that was all the answer they needed.

—

"Round table. Five minutes." Hotch's voice carried across the bullpen, his usual no-nonsense tone making it clear there was no room for delay.

The team exchanged glances, some groaning about Monday morning's abruptness, others silently gathering their things and making their way toward the conference room. Spencer followed, clutching his coffee; the bitter taste ground him in the early morning haze.

Once they were seated, JJ took her usual spot at the front, but something about her demeanor was off. Her shoulders were tense, her expression pinched in a way that wasn't just professional concern—it was personal.

She clicked on the projector, and the screen illuminated with a digital map of Virginia. Red markers pinpointed locations across the state—too many markers.

"A string of kidnappings has taken place here in Virginia," JJ began, her voice steady but strained. "All within the last two months. The victims all match the same victimology."

As she spoke, she clicked on the next slide.

A series of photos appeared on the screen. The faces were of women in their twenties with similar features and build. This pattern should have been just another set of behavioral data points in the grander scheme of the case.

But Spencer's stomach plummeted.

His grip on his coffee tightened involuntarily, his breath hitching in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs in recognition, dread coiling in his gut like a living thing.

The victims—they all looked like you.

It's the same hair color. Same facial structure. They have the same soft smile in some photos and the same sharp glint in their eyes in others. They weren't you, but they might as well have been.

His pulse pounded as JJ continued speaking, words blurring together as the room suddenly felt too small.

"The unsub is abducting women who fit this profile, holding them for an unknown period, and then—"

Spencer barely heard the rest.

All he could think about was you.

You—who had barely spoken to him since he left. You—who he had destroyed. You—who he no longer had the right to check in on, to protect.

But as his vision swam, his chest tightening painfully, only one thought cut through the noise.

Were you safe?

…

The answer came quicker than Spencer could have ever prepared for.

No. You weren't safe.

Once the team broke off into their assigned pairs, the case had already begun unraveling alarmingly fast. The latest victim's body had been recovered, their time of death recent—too recent. It meant the unsub was either already hunting for a new woman… or they already had one.

By the time Spencer and Elle arrived back at the BAU, the tension in the air was palpable. The office's usual controlled chaos had been replaced with something far heavier. He could feel the urgency with which agents moved in the hushed voices and sharp exchanges. Something had shifted.

Then he saw it.

His first clue was the woman sitting at JJ's desk, shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. It took him a second to recognize her—your best friend.

His second clue was even worse.

His entire body locked up as his gaze landed on the case board. The details of the investigation had changed.

And there you were.

Your picture.

Your face.

Pinned in the center of the board, more significant than any other victim's. A fresh missing persons report was tacked beside it, and the timestamp was barely hours old.

The breath left Spencer's lungs like he'd been punched in the gut.

His vision blurred at the edges, the words and numbers on the board becoming nothing more than meaningless static.

His hands clenched, the phantom memory of holding you flashing through his mind. His brain, the same brain that could recall statistics, equations, and case files with perfect clarity, was failing him now, drowning him in nothing but cold, raw terror.

You were missing.

And Spencer had never felt more helpless.

The room around him faded into a blur of voices, movement, and urgency—but none mattered. Only you mattered. His feet moved before his mind could catch up, pushing him toward JJ's desk, toward your best friend who was still crying into her hands.

"When?" The word tore from Spencer's throat, rough and desperate. "When was the last time anyone heard from her?"

Your best friend lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes red and swollen. "L-last night. We were supposed to meet for brunch this morning, but she never showed up. She—she wouldn't just disappear. She wouldn't—" Her voice broke, fresh sobs wracking through her as JJ placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Her phone's off," JJ said, her face tight with emotion, her voice barely steady. "Local PD found her car still parked outside her apartment. No sign of forced entry. Her purse was left behind."

Spencer clenched his jaw, his stomach twisting painfully. He knew what that meant. She was taken from inside. The unsub had been watching you, had known your routines, and had waited for the perfect moment to strike.

And he hadn't been there to stop it.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. "Reid." It was Hotch. His voice was firm, grounding, pulling Spencer back into reality. "I need you to focus. We will find her, but we need to move fast."

Elle spoke up, flipping through the case file. "Unsub's pattern suggests he holds victims anywhere from 48 to 72 hours before…" She didn't finish the sentence, but they knew how it ended.

Before he killed them.

Spencer had 48 hours to save you.

He swallowed hard, forcing his mind to snap into place, to work past the terror and focus on finding you.

"Where was her last known location?" he demanded, stepping toward the board, his eyes locking onto your picture, committing every last detail of your presence to memory. He knew he would never forgive himself if he failed and lost you.

JJ pointed at the map. "Er, apartment. The surveillance cameras didn't catch anything obvious, but we're combing through traffic cams now. We need to figure out where he took her."

Spencer's hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

"Then let's start there," he said, his voice steady now, ice-cold determination replacing the panic.

He had failed you once.

He wasn't going to fail you again.

The search was relentless. The entire team moved unyieldingly, combing through evidence, footage, and witness statements with the desperation that came when one of their own was in danger.

But for Spencer, it was different.

It was you.

He felt it in his bones, a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, an overwhelming tide of guilt that gnawed at him with every passing second. He should have never left you. He should have never chosen something else, someone else.

Because now, as he stared at the grainy traffic cam footage of your last known whereabouts, he realized the truth.

Robert was never going to replace you.

He had been a distraction, a fleeting novelty, someone new and engaging in a way that had tricked Spencer into thinking he was feeling something more. But what was new had worn off, and emptiness had remained.

You were never dull.

You were home.

And he had walked away from it—walked away from you.

And now, he might never get to tell you how wrong he was.

"Reid," Hotch's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Spencer turned sharply, his eyes burning, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.

"We have something," JJ said, her face tight with restrained emotion. She motioned to the screen. "Traffic cams picked up an unfamiliar van near Y/N's apartment. No plates, but it made three passes before stopping."

Spencer's pulse hammered as he stared.

There.

In the grainy footage, a dark-colored van sat idling just across from your apartment, a shadow behind the wheel. And then—a figure.

You.

You stepped out of your building, completely unaware. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the scene unfold, knowing precisely what was coming next but unable to look away.

The van door slid open. A person—the unsub—moved fast, grabbing you before you could react. You fought, your body twisting, struggling—but you were outmatched.

Then, just like that, you were gone.

Spencer's hands curled into fists.

"We need to identify that van," Hotch ordered. "Garcia, get into the city's surveillance system—track that route. Find me where he took her."

"I'm already on it, sir." Garcia's quick and focused voice came through the speaker.

Spencer barely heard them. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, on you, on the last moment before you had disappeared.

He had spent so much time thinking you would always be there, that there would always be time to fix things and make things right.

But time was running out.

And if he lost you—if he never got the chance to tell you how much he still loved you, how you were the only person who ever truly mattered to him—

He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to live with himself.

Garcia worked fast—she always did—but this time, Spencer could hear the urgency in her voice, the rapid clicking of her keyboard through the speaker, and the barely restrained panic beneath her usual rapid-fire delivery.

"Okay, sugarplums, I got something,” she announced, voice tense. "That creepy, unmarked van? It popped up on a traffic camera near an abandoned industrial site about fifteen miles from Y/N's apartment. There are no stops between the two locations. I'm sending you the coordinates now."

Spencer barely waited for Hotch to give the order before he was moving, grabbing his bag and gun and shoving past the concerned glances of his teammates.

This was it.

This had to be it.

The drive was agonizing. His fingers twitched on his knee as he stared out the window, mind racing with every possible outcome. If you were there—if they got to you in time—he could still fix this. He could still tell you the truth.

He had made the biggest mistake of his life, confused comfort with monotony, and was a fool to think there was something better than the love you had given him so freely, so wholly.

That you were the only one he had ever truly wanted.

The convoy of SUVs screeched to a halt outside the factory, tires kicking up dust and gravel. Guns were drawn, and orders exchanged in hushed, precise tones. Spencer's pulse hammered as he fell into formation with Morgan and Hotch, his grip on his weapon too tight, his breathing too shallow.

They breached the building in seconds.

The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of rust and decay. Spencer's stomach twisted as they moved swiftly through the darkened corridors, his ears straining for any sound—any sign of you.

But there was nothing.

No muffled cries, no scuffling footsteps, no you.

Then—

"Clear!" Morgan's voice rang out from another room, frustration cutting through the tension.

"Clear," Elle echoed from the opposite side.

Spencer's heart plummeted.

The space was empty.

Empty.

No unsub. No van. No, you.

They only discarded debris, a few rusted chairs, and the lingering, suffocating feeling they had just lost time they didn't have to spare.

Spencer stood frozen in the center of the room, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. The futility of it all hit him like a brick wall.

His knees felt weak.

"No, no, no," he murmured under his breath, his gun lowering as his vision blurred. "She was supposed to be here! He took her here. She—she was supposed to be here!"

"Reid." Morgan's voice was cautious, but Spencer barely heard it.

He couldn't—not over the deafening roar of panic, regret, guilt.

His hands were shaking. His chest was tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to breathe, to focus, but all he could see was your face, your picture pinned to the board, the footage of you being taken—

And the realization that he might never see you again.

"Reid." This time, Hotch's voice was sharper, more commanding. Spencer snapped his head up, his breath ragged.

"We'll find her," Hotch said firmly. "But we need you to keep it together."

Spencer's breath hitched, his pulse pounding so loudly in his ears he could barely hear anything else. They were wasting time. Every second spent standing here, every moment spent catching their breath, was another second you were still out there, terrified and alone, waiting for someone to save you.

And he had promised to love you.

And he had failed.

"Oh, you need me to keep it together?" Spencer snapped, his voice shaking, his entire body shaking. His vision was blurring at the edges, rage and fear coiling so tightly in his chest that he could barely contain it. He turned on Hotch, his heart hammering against his ribs like a wild, desperate thing. "Well, Y/N needs me to find her! She needs not to die!"

The words tore from his throat, raw and broken.

Morgan's eyes widened slightly, JJ flinched, Elle turned away—but Hotch didn't waver. He stood firm, unyielding, his sharp gaze locked on Spencer with a kind of patience Spencer didn't deserve right now.

"And we will find her," Hotch said, voice calm but edged with authority. "But not if you lose control."

"Lose control?" Spencer let out a short, bitter laugh, his fingers digging into his arms as if to ground himself and keep from completely unraveling. His throat burned, his head spun, and all he could see was you. You, you, you. "She's out there, and we don't even know if she's alive! We don't know if we have hours or minutes before she—before—"

His breath caught.

Before you died.

The word sat there, a looming specter he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

Morgan stepped forward, voice softer this time. "Reid, listen, man—"

"No!" Spencer cut him off, wild-eyed, frantic. "You don't get it! None of you get it! I—” His voice cracked, his body swaying slightly, the weight of his guilt pressing so heavily on his chest it felt like it was crushing him. He tried to steady himself, but he felt like he was drowning. "I—this is my fault."

A thick silence settled over the room.

Spencer's vision blurred with unshed tears, and his breath ragged.

"She loved me." His voice was quieter now, almost hollow. He clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly, his nails digging into his palm. "And I—I walked away. I left her for someone who meant nothing." He let out a shuddering breath, his chest tightening so hard it physically hurt. "And now I might never get to tell her that she was—is—the only person I've ever truly loved."

A lump formed in his throat.

"I don't—I don't deserve to find her," he whispered, the truth burning as it left his lips. "But I need to. I have to. Or I'll never—I can't—"

He couldn't finish.

If he didn't find you and fix this, nothing else would ever matter.

Elle had been watching Spencer unravel since they returned from the failed lead, her sharp gaze tracking every minute detail of his breakdown—the frantic pacing, the erratic breathing, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. And now, after his outburst at Hotch and how he looked like he was about to self-destruct right in front of them, she had had enough.

She moved fast.

Before Spencer could react, Elle's palm cracked across his face.

The sharp smack echoed through the room, cutting through the tense silence like a gunshot. Spencer's head snapped to the side, his breath hitching in shock as pain bloomed hot and fast across his cheek.

For a second, no one moved.

Elle wasn't finished.

She grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, forcing him to look at her. "Get your shit together, Reid!" she hissed, her eyes burning with something more than anger—something more profound.

Spencer froze.

His chest heaved, his mind scrambling to catch up, to process what had just happened. His cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the tidal wave of rage, frustration, and unrelenting guilt that had been crushing him from the inside out.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, staggering back, touching his face like he wasn't sure the pain was real.

"That," Elle said, voice low and dangerous, "was me snapping you the fuck out of it." She jabbed a finger into his chest, stepping closer, invading his space, making sure he couldn't look away.

"You're losing it, Reid. And you cannot afford to lose it right now."

Spencer opened his mouth, but she wasn't done.

"You think you're the only one who's scared?" Elle seethed. "You think you're the only one who wants to tear this city apart to find her? We all do. But guess what? You spiraling like this? It's not helping. It's making it worse."

Spencer's breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I—"

"No, shut up," Elle snapped, cutting him off, her voice sharp enough to wound. "I don't want to hear you start whining about how guilty you feel, about how this is all your fault, about how you were an idiot for letting her go."

Spencer's throat closed up.

"You screwed up," she stated, flat and brutal. "You got bored. You wanted something new. And now you've realized you had something irreplaceable and threw it away."

His eyes widened slightly—because, fuck, she knew.

Elle saw right through him.

"But guess what, genius?" Elle leaned in, her voice dropping just enough that the words hit like a punch to the ribs.

"None of that fucking matters if you don't find her."

His stomach dropped.

Elle's gaze was unrelenting, her expression hard as steel. "You want to feel sorry for yourself? Fine. Do it after we bring her home." She stepped back, releasing her grip on his collar. "But right now, Spencer? You need to be the smartest damn person in this room."

Spencer exhaled sharply, still reeling, his cheek throbbing, his pulse raging.

But he understood.

Elle wasn't slapping him because she was angry. She was slapping him because she refused to lose another teammate. Because she refused to lose you.

Because she knew that he was the best chance you had.

Spencer straightened, inhaling deeply, forcing his mind to clear. His face still burned, his chest still ached with remorse, but for the first time since seeing your picture on that board, he wasn't drowning in it.

Elle watched him closely, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she saw the shift.

"Good," she said, giving him one last firm look. "Now, let's go find her."

Spencer nodded, jaw tight, mind finally sharpening into focus.

Because Elle was right. None of his regrets, self-loathing, orlizations meant anything if he didn't bring you home.

"Damn, Greenaway," Derek mumbled, rubbing his jaw as he shot Elle an amused glance. "What's a guy gotta do to get a little love tap?" His smirk was wide, teasing, attempting to lighten the crushing weight pressing down on all of them.

Elle, still standing firm after knocking some sense into Spencer, turned her head slightly, giving Derek a slow, deliberate once-over. "Keep talking, and it'll be a lot more than a tap," she shot back, a smirk of her forming. Then, with a playful wink, she turned back to the case, already flipping through files as if she hadn't just physically assaulted a coworker for his good.

Spencer barely registered the exchange, his brain already re-firing on all cylinders. The sting in his cheek was nothing compared to the fresh surge of determination flooding through him. And so, the team buried themselves back into the investigation, working with precision, intensity, and the desperate, unyielding need to bring you back.

Morgan and Hotch went back through the victimology, looking for any deviation in the unsub's pattern that could hint at where he had taken you.

JJ and Elle were in the batcave, working with Garcia, pushing for more footage, leads, and anything else to tighten the search radius.

Spencer was at the board, staring at your photo, the location pins, and the scattered details. His mind ran every scenario, analyzing every variable. His hand hovered over the map, tracing each route the unsub could have taken.

Think, Spencer. Think.

He had 72 hours.

Time was running out.

And he wasn't about to lose you.

And then he heard it.

Garcia's sharp victory cry rang through the speaker, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Oh, hell yes! Gotcha, you sick son of a—"

Spencer's head snapped up, his heart slamming against his ribs as the bullpen erupted into movement.

"Garcia?" Hotch demanded, already reaching for his earpiece. "What do you have?"

"I have him, sir; I freaking have him!" Garcia's voice was a mixture of triumph and pure adrenaline. "Okay, listen up because I found this guy's most incriminating, unsub-like, foolish mistake—his utility bills."

Spencer's pulse skyrocketed.

Garcia barely took a breath before launching into explanation mode.

"So, I was cross-referencing every possible known location the previous victims were held in—warehouses, abandoned buildings, private properties, all that jazz—but something wasn't adding up. All of those places had been searched already, right? So, I started looking at nearby structures that weren't in use but still had active utilities. Gas, electricity, even just running water, because let's face it—no creepy serial kidnapper is taking sponge baths in a rusty bucket."

"Garcia," Hotch cut in, his patience thin, "where is he?"

Garcia let out an excited, breathless laugh.

"There's an abandoned farmhouse thirty miles outside town, just off an old service road. It's been off the radar for years, but someone's been paying the bills—sporadically, inconsistently, just enough not to raise alarms. And guess what, my sweet crime fighters?"

Spencer gripped the edge of the table.

"The latest bill?" Garcia continued, triumphant. "It was paid yesterday."

Spencer inhaled sharply.

That meant he was still there.

That meant you were still there.

Morgan was already reaching for his gear, his movements quick and efficient. "That's it. That's our guy. Let's move."

Hotch didn't hesitate. "Gear up. Now."

—

"Can you shut up for the love of God?!" the unsub snapped, his voice cutting through the cold, damp air of the farmhouse basement. His patience had worn thin, and the roughness in his tone carried more frustration than malice.

You hiccupped through your tears, your body trembling—not from fear, but from overwhelming exhaustion. Your wrists ached where they were bound, your face was sticky with dried tears, and yet, despite everything, you couldn't stop talking.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed, sniffling dramatically. "It's just—" Another sniffle, another watery gasp for air. "He left me, and then I get kidnapped, and now he's probably gonna save me, and then I'll go home to an empty house, and he'll go home to his stupid boyfriend."

Your captor's eye twitched.

"For the last fucking time," he growled, turning toward you with visible irritation, "they're not going to find you!"

You barely reacted, too caught up in your despair.

"You don't know that," you muttered, your voice wobbly but oddly conversational. "I mean, he's like a genius or whatever. And his team is good at their jobs. They always catch the bad guy." You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the wooden beam. "So, yeah, I'd say the odds aren't exactly in your favor."

The unsub's jaw clenched. He paced in frustration, his hands raking through his unkempt hair.

"You should be scared," he spat, though there was less conviction now.

You sniffled again. "I'm too heartbroken to be scared."

Your voice cracked on the last word; it wasn't just for show this time.

The unsub laughed, a cruel, condescending chuckle that grated against your nerves. "You're pathetic," he sneered, shaking his head.

You let out a soft, bitter huff, your fingers twitching where they were bound. "And you aren't?" Your voice was steady now, sharper than before. "You have to kidnap women just to get one to talk to you."

The unsub's face twisted with rage. His hand shot out, grabbing the back of your head roughly, yanking it back so you were forced to look up at him.

Then, cold metal pressed against your temple.

"I could fucking kill you right now," he snarled, his breath hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your scalp.

You blinked up at him. Not flinching and not pleading.

Just looking.

"Okay," you said simply.

For a long, tense moment, he didn't move.

Your heartbeat was steady, even as the seconds stretched between you. His grip was tight, his breathing heavy, the gun unwavering against your skin.

But you didn't break.

Because, honestly? You didn't care.

Maybe it was the exhaustion. It could be the sheer emotional devastation of everything leading up to this moment. Or maybe it was the painful, gut-wrenching realization that even if Spencer saved you, he wouldn't stay.

That hurt more than anything else.

The unsub groaned, exasperated, and after a few lingering moments, jerked back, lowering the gun.

He paced, rolling his neck like trying to shake off whatever he had just felt.

"You don't fear death, do you?" he muttered, more to himself than you.

You let out a small breath, watching him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Not really."

—

The farmhouse was empty.

It was abandoned.

And that realization hit like a freight train.

As the team swept through the decrepit structure, their boots crunching against the dust-covered floorboards, the air grew heavier with every room they cleared. The farmhouse was utterly vacant—there was no sign of you, no sign of the unsub, no proof of where you had been taken next.

And then Spencer's world crashed down. Again. He didn't know how much more he could take.

His knees hit the ground before he could stop them, his whole body wracked with sobs. The grief that had been building inside him for hours, days, weeks—since the moment he walked away from you—exploded all at once.

Morgan was there instantly, his strong arms steadying Spencer, pulling him into a solid, grounding hold as Spencer fisted his hands into his vest.

"No, no, no," Spencer choked out, shaking violently. "We're too late, we're too late."

"Hey, hey—stop that." Morgan's grip tightened, his expression strained with worry. "We don’t know that."

But Spencer's mind wasn't listening.

Because the only explanation for an empty farmhouse was that the unsub had already killed you.

That he had already moved your body.

And Spencer would never get to tell you.

I never got to say he was sorry. Never get to tell you that he loved you, was a fool for leaving, and would have spent his entire life making it up to you if he could.

That you were his heart.

And now you were gone.

The team stood frozen, the weight of failure settling over them like a suffocating fog.

And then Spencer's phone rang.

His breath hitched, and his fingers clumsily fumbled for the device. His whole body felt numb, and the ringing pierced his grief. It was JJ.

He barely had time to answer before her voice rang through the line, breathless, disbelieving, urgent.

"Spencer—she's here."

His heart stopped.

"What?"

"Y/N just—she just walked into the precinct." JJ sounded just as stunned as he felt. "She's unharmed. She's safe."

Spencer felt his entire world tilt so violently that he nearly collapsed again.

He was on his feet in seconds, his head spinning, his chest heaving.

"She's alive?" The words tumbled out of him wild and frantic, like he feared saying them out loud would make them untrue.

JJ exhaled sharply. "She's alive, Spence. She's okay."

Spencer's legs nearly gave out.

Morgan caught him before he could crumble.

The team exchanged stunned glances, their exhaustion, and devastation shifting into something else entirely.

Hope.

Relief.

Victory.

Hotch's voice cut through the moment, commanding but urgent.

"Let's go. Now."

Spencer was already running.

—

Practically stumbling into the precinct, his breath ragged, Spencer's heart slamming against his ribs as he scanned the room in a frenzy. His eyes darted wildly, looking for you.

And then he saw you. Alive. Standing near JJ's desk, your arms crossed, your expression completely unreadable as you answered one of the officer's questions with a nod. No visible injuries. No signs of distress. Just… there.

Breathing.

Existing.

He felt like he was going to collapse.

The relief hit him so hard that he nearly forgot how to move, breathe, and function. His vision blurred, his pulse roared in his ears, and for a second, he could only process that you were here and safe.

Then you turned, and your gaze met his.

And everything inside Spencer froze.

Because there was no relief in your eyes.

No joy.

No desperation, no tears, no emotion at all.

It's just tired indifference.

His lips parted, and his feet moved toward you instinctively. His hands itched to touch you, feel you, hold you, apologize, beg, and break at your feet if he had to.

But before he could say anything, you exhaled deeply, turning back to JJ, dismissing him entirely without a second glance.

Like he was just… some guy.

Some stranger.

Someone who meant nothing.

The rejection was like a blade to the throat.

Spencer finally found his voice, but it was weak and hoarse. It was filled with exhaustion, guilt, and everything he had wanted to say to you but had never had the chance.

“Y/N—”

You barely spared him a glance.

"I just want to go home," you said flatly, your voice drained, emotionless, like you had nothing left to give—not to the case, Spencer, or any of it.

And that hurt more than anything.

Because he had prepared himself for your tears, he had braced himself for anger, for screaming, for you shoving him away, slapping him, hating him outright.

But this? This emptiness? This indifference? This was worse.

This was so much worse.

Spencer stood there, stunned, feeling himself shatter in real-time as you sighed, rubbing at your tired eyes, before quietly saying to JJ,

"Can someone take me home?"

And just like that—

You were gone.

And Spencer had never felt more alone.

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

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[laylaysdelusions]

Club jealousy

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: Azzi gets jealous and Paige shows her how how much she loves her and only her

Tonight they went to a club with Kk and the rest of the team to celebrate the recent wins like the phenomenal one over South Carolina. The night was going smoothly between everyone until a bartender approached Paige. At first Azzi just thought maybe she recognized her or something but after a little while she started to get jealous and pissed. She didn’t feel like Paige was rejecting her enough. I mean why the fuck is she touching her girlfriend’s arm that way? It pissed Azzi off.

Paige didn’t really understand however the lady was just making small talk in her eyes and it was respectful. “Would you like another drink?” the fake blonde bartender asked and Paige shook her head no. “I’m the one driving tonight” the woman fake sighed. “That’s a shame for sure” Paige blew her off and turned her attention towards Azzi that’s when she noticed that she had left. “Where the hell is Azzi?!” The blonde asked Kk.

“She just went to the bathroom,” Kk replied, obviously not understanding what’s going on. How long was it going to click in for Paige that something was wrong? She went to the bathroom and she saw Azzi standing by the mirror. “Princess what’s wrong?” Paige’s eyes softened when she saw her in the mirror with angry tears in her eyes. Azzi is the sensitive type which is understandable.

The public doesn’t know they’re together and that brings in so many flirty girls, it stresses Azzi out. She trusts Paige with her life; she just doesn’t trust the girls. “Wouldn’t you rather be talking to the bartender about your workout routine or something?” Azzi gives Paige a glare. “Ohh that’s what this is about, you’re jealous” Paige smirks causing Azzi to roll her eyes. “I hate your fucking cockiness” Azzi slaps her hand on the counter.

“Look baby, she was definitely not my type you know this already, I am fully yours, always” the tall blonde moves closer behind Azzi. Their eyes meet in the mirror. “She doesn’t know that though..” Azzi mutters. “How about I prove it to you? prove how I only have eyes for you” Azzi turns around with her eyes widening. “We’re in public!” The curly head tells her girlfriend as if she’s down right crazy(ok, maybe she is a little). “There’s a lock on this door for a reason ma” Azzi pouts and decides to listen to her pussy not her brain.

After she locks the door Paige grabs Azzi’s hips and sits her on the countertop. She pulls her in and connects their lips. Their kiss increases in passion and desperation as time goes by. Azzi pulls away with a sigh and whispers something to the blonde. “I need you, right now.”

The curly head almost squeals when she feels Paige’s lips against her collarbone. They have been so busy lately with everything they haven’t had any alone time to do their own personal celebration. A career high is definitely deserving of some good head. Paige brings her long fingers to the bottom of Azzi’s low cut tank top.

She pulls it over her head, leaving her purple bra on. Azzi whines softly at the feeling over Paige’s hands on her. “Shh baby, you’re gonna get what you deserve soon, be patient f’ me”. Azzi’s hands come to grip Paige tightly. “Need you as close as possible” Azzi says under her breath making Paige laugh.

The blonde swiftly unclips her bra because she’s done it a thousand times. Paige brings her fingertips to softly pinch at Azzi’s nipples. “Mm” Azzi cries out, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Be as loud as you want princess, let that bartender hear just how good I’m making you feel” Azzi’s skin flushes and she sighs in pleasure as Paige’s tongue moves between her nipples and her toned stomach. The curly head’s jeans start to feel tighter and more trapped than before.

She moves Paige’s fingers to the button. “Off” Paige nods. “Anything you say, pretty girl” Azzi has her wrapped around her finger, Paige knows she just doesn’t mind. Azzi’s jeans pool at her ankles as Paige kisses her thighs. “Most perfect thighs I’ve ever seen, no one else’s can compete with them” Paige’s praises fall out so naturally, loving Azzi comes naturally. When Paige sees the wet spot growing on Azzi’s panties she chuckles.

“I got you down bad don’t I?” Paige says letting her ego shine through. “You’re the one listening to everything I say so who’s really down bad?” Azzi snaps back causing Paige to shut up. Paige moves to adjust her panties to the side. “You want it?” Azzi shakes her head yes with deep breaths flowing out. Paige’s long middle finger enters her, causing a cry to release itself from her girlfriend's mouth.

Azzi wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. “You’re sensitive today baby” Paige teases as she has the girl turn to putty in front of her. “S-stop it” Azzi manages to spit out while Paige adds another finger. The curly haired woman grinds down on her fingers letting moans leave her mouth unapologetically, just how her girlfriend wants her. Paige wants Azzi to take all the pleasure without a care in the world.

“You feelin’ good?” The blonde chuckles at the mess she’s made. Azzi’s legs start to shake slightly and Paige knows she’s close. “Tell me when you’re gonna cum ok?” Azzi just moans in response and shivers against her. “Mhm- gonna..” “go ahead princess, I got you” Azzi lets go against her with a cry.

Paige comforts her through her high. They hold each other for a moment before adjusting their clothes. “There’s more where that came from” Paige whispers in her ear as they walk out of the bathroom. They sit back down at the bar next to Kk. She looks over at them with disgust. “You freaks”

[s0urw00lf]

I miss you I’m sorry

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: angst, crying, heartache, heartbreak the whole nine yards

An: jeez this was a crazy write. I’m very proud of it though. Please i love this i can’t believe i wrote it.

Off and on. Thats the best way to describe what you and rafe were. You get together, act like idiots in love, then everything changes and you’re each others biggest enemy. But it wasn’t really true. You and rafe were idiots in love. Just not the romantic kind.

Thats what made you write it, you hadn’t expected it to become as big as it did. It almost scared you how scared you were of him hearing it. And he hadn’t until toppers girlfriend kept playing a live concert you did, and rafe knew immediately. He knew your voice like it belonged to him.

“Who is that?” He asked her, she was confused as he’d never went out of his way to start a conversation with her. “Uh- y/n l/n” she said. When your name slipped past her lips Rafe’s heart almost stopped.

Thats how he found himself down a rabbit hole on your music. Every song on your album made was about him and he knew it. But the one that stuck out the most was ‘I miss you im sorry’. Rafe knew the two of you were toxic there was no other word for it but you were so you and he was him and you mended so perfectly together until you didn’t.

He knew it was stupid. The dumbest thing he could’ve done but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to see you, to hear you at least one last time. He bought a ticket to your concert in Austin and he flew out the next day.

He was in the very front row, the closest to the stage. He knew you’d see him and he didn’t know if that’s what he wanted or needed.

When you arrived on the stage the crowd went wild, and you looked like heaven, your long sparkly dress complemented your glistening skin perfectly.

Rafe could’ve died and went to heaven right then and there, the smile you wore on your face you would’ve never guessed you spent so many nights crying on the floor of your old shared apartment because of him.

“Hey guys” you greeted, the crowd cheered loudly. “Thank you so much for coming out to my show. This album means the world to me and im so thankful so many people connected with it as much as i did” you say with a sincere smile. Rafe felt his chest tighten, he almost couldn’t believe he was seeing you again.

“I wrote this album after my first ever relationship, i was so in love with this guy, he meant the world to me but we weren’t good for each other and we just couldn’t accept that until we both walked away with more damage than we walked in with” you explained walking across the stage the train of your dress trailing behind you. “I haven’t spoken to him since, and im not even sure he knows where i am today but i hope he’s doing well. Anyway, let’s get this party started shall we” you say with a huge smile.

You preformed beautifully, every song was sang to perfection and rafe almost forgot the main reason he was here. That was until he saw you sit down at the piano, not even ten feet from you.

You set the mic on the stand in front of you “now this song, this holds a special place in my heart so i hope you enjoy.” You say. You took a deep breath feeling nervous. Somehow you had a feeling he was there.

Maybe it was the familiarity of his presence or the weight of his gaze. You’d felt it the whole performance and you tried to brush it off, but with this song you couldn’t because it held so much emotion that you didn’t let him see and now there was a possibility that he was here seeing you sing it raw and live.

You let out a deep breath and started playing the chords, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Do you remember happpy together?

I do, dont you?

Then all of a sudden, your sick to your stomach

Is that still true

You looked into the crowd. And like a moth to a flame your eyes landed on him and you visibly faltered. You recovered quickly but your heart hadn’t. He was here, watching you, so intently as if really seeing you for the first time.

You said forever in the end i fought it

Please be honest are we better for it

Thought you’d hate me but instead you called and,

Said “i miss you” i caught it.

Rafe knew exactly what you were taking about. Every time you’d break up he’d text no more than a month later claiming to had missed you, and every time you fell back into his arms after spending a month not knowing wether or not you made the mistake of not fighting when rafe asked for a breakup.

Good to each other, give it the summer

I knew, you too

But i only saw you, once in December

I’m still confused

You spent days begging for rafe to give you even a fraction of his attention and the most you got was the day together on Christmas, but that day meant the world to you and rafe had no idea just how much you cherished that memory. For some reason tears filled your eyes and you made eye contact with him again. Pouring all of the hurt, and love you had for him out.

You’d performed this song many times but this was the first time you felt like the weight and emotion the song holds was actually getting off of your chest.. rafe knew, he knew he’d damaged you and he couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes as well.

You said “forever” and i almost bought it

I miss fighting I your old apartment

Breaking dished when your disappointed

I love you, i promise

The words kicked him right in the chest depriving him of air, and he didn’t even fight it, he couldn’t bring himself to care, in this moment the crowd was drowned out. It was only you and him and nothing else mattered.

Every word that spews from your lips you meant still even in this moment. Because even after all this time, you spent apart, even after every argument you had, every screaming match, you knew rafe was just broken and wouldn’t accept the love you had to offer, and you prayed every time that he would. But he never did.

Nothing happened in the way i wanted

Every corner of this house is haunted

And i know you said that were not talking

But i miss you, im sorry

Tears were now freely flowing down the both of your faces, and you sang the song more raw than you ever had before. Letting out all the emotions you’d held back because he needed to know. You didn’t hate him no you could never. But he’d broken you and you had to put the pieces back together.

I dont wanna go, think ill make it worse

Everything i know brings me back to us

I dont wanna go we’ve been here before

Everywhere i go leads me back to you

You broke down crying at this point. Your voice was severing and the crowd had gotten louder, seemingly noticing your state. But you didn’t focus on them, just him. Just rafe. Your rafe.

You said forever and i almost bought it

I dont wanna go think ill make it worse

I miss fighting in you old apartment

Everything I know brings me back to us

Rafe usually felt nothing after hurting a girl. They never had any long lasting effect on him, but you did and he hated it. He hated how much control you had over him. He hated how he’d do anything for you, but he didn’t hate you for it. He couldn’t his heart belonged to you and it held no negative emotion towards you. He couldn’t stay away from you. And he didn’t want to.

Breaking dishes when you're disappointed

I don't wanna go, we've been here before

I still love you, I promise

But he had to. He had to let you go because he could see how much you were breaking and he was the cause of it. So he did. He let you go and never looked back. Not because he didn’t want you but because he couldn’t.

You were like a drug that he couldn’t stay away from. He was addicted to you in every sense of the word. He couldn’t give himself the freedom to still keep up with you and your socials because he’d reel you back in and that just wasn’t something he allowed himself to do.

Everywhere I go leads me back to you (Nothing happened in the way I wanted)

I don't wanna go, think I'll make it worse (Every corner of this house is haunted)

Everything I know brings me back to us (And I know you said that we're not talking)

I don't wanna go, we've been here before (But I miss you)

You sang over your backing vocals, thankful for them at this moment you weren’t sure how much longer you could sing before completely breaking.

Everywhere I go leads me back to you

I don’t wanna go think ill make it worse

Everything i know brings me back to us

I don’t wanna go we’ve been here before

Everywhere i go leads me back to you

The song ends and the stadium is silent, before it erupts into cheers. You look around in surprise. The crowd has never been that loud before and you almost forget about rafes gaze burning into you.

When the cheers die down you give a nervous laugh “that was… a lot right guys?” You said with a shaky voice, noticing multiple people in the crows was crying too. The crowd cheered ‘yeahs’ and you sigh “i know, uh anyway, thank you guys again for coming out to see me today. I love each and every one of you and until next time” you said, giving a bow. Walking off stage as the crowd cheered.

You went straight for your dressing room, not stopping for anyone in between. You couldn’t believe rafe had been here, and you broke down crying in front of him and thousands of people.

You paced around your room for minutes until you heard a knock on your door, you sighed moving to open it, seeing your manager who held a guilty look. “I’m sorry” he said, before stepping away.

Before you could even realize rafe was standing right in front of you. Eyes red and even more handsome than you remembered. His hair was buzzed , something you hadn’t noticed when he was standing in the crowd, but it suited him more than the middle part hairstyle couldn’t care to change when you were together. He was also noticeably bigger, more muscular.

Seeing him so up close was odd. You weren’t sure how you felt looking up into his reddened green eyes.

“Hey” he said cautiously.

“Hey” you replied, voice quiet and hoarse.

Neither of you said anything you just rushed into a hug. Holding each other like the other person might melt away in their hold.

“I miss you” you whispered tears flowing again

“I’m sorry” he apologized into your hair.

[sweatersexual]

I think you do make some fair points, and they're much better thought out than most of the criticism directed at Lirin, so I really appreciate that.

I think the main issue here is that the flashbacks in twok were very much from Kaladin's point of view, so any developments between Lirin and Tien, or the other family members and the rest of Hearthstone, happened entirely offscreen.

We don't see the decade plus of rapport Lirin built with the people of Hearthstone before Roshone showed up. Yes, there was uncertainty from the townsfolk regarding his science-based care model, and being the only second nahns in the town did create some social rifts between them, but I don't think Lirin and Hesina would have settled there in the first place if they didn't form any deep connections or friendships with their neighbors. Lirin admits as much to Kaladin. We know that even when Roshone is driving that wedge between them and the rest of the town, they are receiving support from their community that Kaladin doesn't see.

I think that points to Lirin and Hesina not wanting to cut off well-established ties just because they were hitting a rough patch. You're right, they wouldn't have been bad people for leaving, but also, idk, to me a lot of the arguments contending that Lirin should have left Hearthstone sound a bit like redditors proclaiming that someone should definitively end their 10 year marriage based on what they know from one AITA post. There's context we're missing here, but what we do see is telling. When Kaladin floats the idea of the whole family moving to Kharbranth, Tien's first reaction is "but I like it here." That doesn't sound like a kid who's completely socially isolated.

I think you do make a good point that there was probably some disregard to how the tension was affecting Kaladin’s mental health. Like yes, some of the people who threatened Lirin ended up giving them food later, but Lirin didn't think to demand an apology from them to Kaladin, the child who witnessed that violence? Would that have helped? I don't know, again, we're missing a lot of context here.

But when Kaladin returns to Hearthstone, Oroden is being looked after by the neighbor girls. Lirin and Roshone have buried the hatchet as far as they are able to, that's part of why Lirin is embarrassed when Kaladin punches Roshone in the face. A year after that, Lirin and Hesina are coordinating the smuggling of refugees out of Herdaz, with the help of everyone in town. We have six years of development between Lirin and Hesina and their neighbors, which takes place pretty much entirely offscreen.

And you're also right that we can't assume a relationship was good when we don't see evidence for it in the text. We don't know what kind of care Lirin may have taken to find an apprenticeship Tien would've been suited for. We do see that Tien has some aptitude for woodcarving, but there is a personality mismatch between him and his master. Is it because Lirin didn't try harder to find a better fit for Tien? I don't necessarily think you're wrong to assume that, but I think there's scant evidence the text gives us to support any kind of conclusion on that front.

I don't think it's fair to say Lirin writes Tien off when he's conscripted, though. Lirin immediately argues against it when Tien's name is called. Amaram has to physically hold Lirin back from stepping up to Roshone. Lirin only relents when it's promised Tien won't be in a combat position, because there's nothing else he can do. He cries for BOTH his sons. That is not a man who is writing anyone off. Yes, he doesn't see how comforting it is to Tien when Kaladin volunteers to go, but I don't think he's a bad father for being angry and hurt that his sons are both risking their lives, when one of them has a choice in the matter. I just don't.

If you give lirin shit for staying in hearthstone you're wrong. It is made VERY clear in the text that while his family was under financial strain under Roshone, they were NOT starving. They weren't eating GREAT food but they were eating. They didn't go without any major necessities. And they could afford medical supplies on top of it. Also it's wild that people assume they could afford to move if they couldn't afford to eat. And Lirin says they could afford to move

Not going to downplay that financial stress is bad for a kid's home life but at the same time, you can tell that Lirin and Hesina were shielding Kaladin and Tien from most of it, which is what good parents do when they've fallen on hard times

And yeah, it would be a dick move to deprive an entire town of their ONLY medical professionals just because of a grudge. Do the lirin haters know what community building is and that you're not going to always get along with the people you're in community with. At the end of the day they were practicing mutual aid and I hope the lirin haters remember that the next time they call him a liberal centrist or whatever

[prettyinpink69]

★Angel of my dreams★

Word count: 1.5k

Only warnings: degradation, strap is referred to as 'cock'

"I will always want you, I need you! You dont care though do you Sevika?!" The volume of your voice ripples through the apartment so loud the neighbours can most definitely hear you, Sevika had yet again gone on another mission for silco alone, risking her life for 'the cause'. You can't help but think she really doesn't understand how much you mean to her... "Oh it's fine doll, I'm still here ain't I?" She shrugs it off nonchalantly like she hadn't nearly died hours prior. You can see the small smirk on her face, which was the complete opposite to the burning red rage heating up your own cheeks. She thinks this is funny?..

"What the hell are you smirking for it's not funny Sevika! You could have DIED!!" you jab your freshly manicured pink nail into her chest, though the hard muscle only actually causes a painful pressure on your nailbed. Truth was she didnt actually GET hurt, but that didnt matter she COULD OF, and that was enough to scare you. Sevika flicks her eyes to where your finger was connecting with her chest, upto your face and back down at her chest again. She chuckles, a low, dark chuckle which has you highly regretting that decision but you stick with it, you don't want to retract now and give in. "If I can handle your moods princess, I can handle a simple mission for Silco." Your jaw almost falls slack, the audacity of this woman stood infront of you. You look up into her eyes, wrinkles crinkled around them as she smirks at you, enjoying every moment of your silly little misery. She knew she wouldn't have died, maybe she'd be reacting diffrent if she did, but she didn't so she decides teasing you and maybe teaching you a lesson about your attitude migh be worth it.

"Careful baby, if you wanna keep that mouth open I'm more than happy to put it to good use." Your mouth instantly closes, you swallow what might be the last sliver of your pride. Your eyes meet hers, dark grey orbs staring into your soul like she knows the thoughts running through your head. Like she knows your wet, slick coated, pussy is throbbing in your panties, like she knows you want nothing more than her strap down your throat. "Sh-shut up Sevika" yeah you tried to sound serious but the hitch in your breath and the clear stutter of your voice didn't help you one bit, almost incriminating you, like evidence of your clear arousal.

But before you can keep rambling your 'nonsense' about how she could have died, your being pushed onto your knees, her mechanical fingers digging into your shoulder, the worst part? She's hardly pushing you, you pretty much sink to your knees the minute her hand touches your shoulder. You silently curse yourself in your head for how easy you sumbit to her but how could you not? "Thats it princess, show daddy how quiet you can be..." sevika comments as your hands unbutton her pants, within seconds her pants and boxer rest mid thigh, her long, girthy, purple strap on staring you in the eyes, she always wore it, just in case of moments like these, your bratty attitude needing to be fixed whenever and wherever. You look up into her eyes as your plump, pink lips kiss the tip, swirling your tongue around it like she could really feel it. Her hands run though your hair before tightly fisting at the scalp cause you to whimper. You open your mouth wider as she slowly guides your mouth further onto her strap, helping you take it inch by inch until your nose was pressed against her bush. The delicious, musky scent of her filling your nostrils instantly. You start to bob your head back and fourth, her bush tickling your nose each time your pressed against her pelvis. "Fuck that's it princess- shut up and take daddys cock like a good girl" she growls like she can feel the way your lips are wrapped around her, the growls and grunts that fall from her lips almost convinces you she CAN feel it.

As her hands in your hair start pulling you onto her strap quickerand deeper, it matches the trusts of her hips causing tears to prick at your eyes as you gag. "So much prettier like this, choking on daddys cock, no worries filling that little mind of yours hm? So fucking dumb on daddys cock-" you moan around her at her words and it only spurs her on, her thrusts become quicker causing you to gag again and again. Black mascara tinted tears coat your face as your nails dug into her thighs just taking what she gives you until her grip on your hair tightens and she pulls your head away. Slick lines of spit still connecting you to her strap, drool dripping off your chin. "Messy slut hm? Taking daddys cock like that's all your good for, gonna shut up now princess?" The degrading words were spit out but her mockingly loving tone and the pet name makes you nod yes, you want anything she'll give you and if that means not complaining? Then you'll never complain again. "I'll shut up now daddy I promise... please.. need you cock daddy..." within an instant your dragged up by your hair and bent over the soft, plush mattress of your shared bed. Your dress pushed up to bunch around you waist and a sharp smack to your ass causing you to gasp "daddy!-" you body jolts forward. "Nuh uh princess i've heard enough out of you, now your gonan take daddys cock like a good slut aren't you?"

"Yes daddy I'll be a good slut, please... need your cock..." you whine and wiggle your ass back against her spit coated strap. "Desperate whore" it earns you another spank on the ass before your panties are pulled down and she's stuffed you to the brim with her cock. The initial stretch burnt but quickly morphed into pleasure, a Desperate moan falling from your lip as she ground her hips into your cunt. "Fuck princess, swallowing me up so much... like a personal cocksleeve" She pulls almost all the way back out before slamming into you again, her pace set unbelievably high. Her hands grip the fatty flesh of your ass as she pulls you back onto her strap with every thrust only making it hit deeper. You shift slightly and the tip of her strap kisses that soft spot inside you which makes you moan and squirm. "Fuck- right there.. oh fuck.." Sevika's strong hands grabs onto your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to keep you positioned there as she relentlessly pounds into your cunt hitting your G-spot over and over again. "Right here?-" She says as she gives one good, hard thrust to your G-spot earning a deliciously pathetic moan to fall from your lips. "Yeahhh right there, that's the spot, sound so pathetic moaning and squirming on daddys cock, you like being fucked dumb huh? So dumb on daddys cock you cant speak... poor princess" the way she's bent over you, her hard muscular chest pressed up against your back, mocking you like your not the love her life on fuels your arousal. "Sevi please I'm gonna- gonna-" before Sevika even has time to tell you not to cum yet, your soaking yours and her thighs as you cum, the obscene sound of your squirt dripping onto the laminate floor only making it the more hotter.

"Fuuuck that's it princess... such a good girl cumming on daddys cock..." her thrusts slow until they come to a complete stop yet she doesn't pull out just yet. The switch in her tone is almost instant, it's back to sweet and loving ready to provide the aftercare you so desperately need and deserve. "Did so good f' me babygirl... my beautiful girl.. you okay princess?" She soothes, running her hands lovingly up and down your sides, the side of your head is snug against the bedsheets, breathless and unresponsive for a minute before you muster just enough energy to respond "love you sevi..." Sevika pulls out and sits on the bed, she scoops you up into her strong arms and holds you to her chest, running her long flesh fingers through your hair. "I love you too princess, now stop worrying about me or I'm gonna have to fuck you dumb everytime... not that I'd mind" She chuckles. You nuzzle your head further into her chest, slowly regaining your composure. "Just worry about you Sevika.. I love you, always but god do I hate you sometimes when your so reckless.." This earns a small sigh from Sevika's lips, she knows you only worry because you care and she can't stop that, but it annoys her to no end, she can reassure and reassure you again and again but ultimately she knows you'll always worry about her... and maybe that's not such a bad thing. "Its gonna take a lot more than a silly fucking mission from Silco to keep me away from you princess..."

[chaoticwriting]

YOU'RE MARRIED??!! 5

The next day, Danny wakes up as the sunlight shines upon his face. He can feel a figure laying in his arms breathing lightly and they lay there together as the sun rises and birds chirp from outside the window.

Looking down on his body, he realizes that he is wearing the bare minimum and the same could be said about the figure that is sleeping in his arm. His hazy mind starts to clear as he remembers the events before they fell asleep.

No, they didn't go too far last night. They are afraid the room is not insulated enough in case they decide to get 'loud'. There is also the consideration that they might need to wake up early today so it would be good if they are not heavily tired before going to bed.

Suddenly, he feels the figure that has his arms wrapped around her wiggle a little. Her small black eyes open and stare at him processing her situation.

Danny: Good morning, sweetheart. How is your sleep?

Cass: Good. Very warm.

Danny: How about we get ready for breakfast? Knowing Ellie, she is probably on her way right now.

Cass agrees with Danny as she knows that Ellie is very much so a morning person. Cass and Danny enter the shower and after a little shower, they dress up and prepare for breakfast.

Cass sits in front of her mirror as she dries her hair with the towel. Although she has a hair dryer, she never really uses it as she doesn't like the hot air. Danny that is sitting on the bed, sees the gift box that he gives to Cass.

He picks it up and opens it to see the necklace in there, a little different from how he first puts it. A little relieved, Danny takes it out and slowly walks behind her.

Cass is combing her hair when suddenly, Danny's hands wrapped around her neck and soon she is wearing the necklace that Danny gave to her.

Danny: Do you know that the necklace is special?

Cass: What do you mean?

Danny: It is crafted by Hephaestus and enchanted by Merlin. Of course, it is all under the supervision of yours truly. When you wear it, you will receive a form of protection against any form of lethal damage. It will also accelerate your healing factor and enhance your physical body. You are also immune to mind control and possession.

Cass: What?!

Danny: That's not all, if you don't like the color or size of the gem, you can easily change it. Pretty neat right?

Cass: Woah, back up. What do you mean it can do all of that? I have never seen it do that before.

Danny: Have you ever been in any of the situations I list off just now?

Cass: No.

Danny: Exactly. Anyway, the enhanced body will not be that obvious right now since it is a gradual thing. If you wear it enough, you can probably brawl with Superman. Although you will probably need to wait for a few decades for that.

Cass: Isn't that dangerous? What if someone bad gets this necklace?

Danny: No worries. I connect the necklace with your soul so that no one else can use it. Even if you don't wear it when those things happen, it will automatically appear on you when you need it or summon it.

Cass: Woah, thank you Danny.

Danny: No need to thank me. Though if you really want to, I do have a few ideas.

Cass smirks at Danny but before anything can happen their door gets knocked on by a little tiny hand.

Ellie: Mama! Papa! Are you awake yet? Alfred asked me to call you. Breakfast is ready.

Cass: Yes, honey. Mama and Papa will be right there.

Cass turns towards the disappointed Danny and gives him a little peck. Danny just smiles wryly and they both walk towards the door and open it to see a little figure, dressed in a green dress hugging them.

Danny picks Ellie up and the 3 of them walk to the kitchen. Along the way, Ellie tells Danny about her experience living in the mansion for the past few weeks. From how delicious Alfred's cooking is to how many animals Damian has in his barn.

Danny just nods and laughs at the few funny stories Ellie tells and just right before they enter the dining room, Cass asks a very weird question.

Cass: So, Ellie. Who is your favorite aunt or uncle?

Before Ellie can answer, Danny sees a few figures, sitting on the dining table perking up when they hear Cass's question.

Ellie: Hmmm, I like Uncle Dick because his is very nice but he likes to make weird jokes that I don't understand. Uncle Jason is very funny but he always tries to make me read books. Uncle Tim is a little weird but also very funny. One time, I see him fall asleep into a bowl of cereal. Hihi. I don't really see Aunt Barbara much. I also like Aunt Steph because she always gives me glitters but I think Grandpa Bruce doesn't like it when we glitter his suit. Uncle Duke sometimes brings me to play with his club friends so I also like him. Uncle Damian is very grumpy but he has a lot of pets so I also like him.

With each word Ellie says, all of them become more on edge. Some of them even have the disappointed looks on their face when Ellie talks about them. Especially, Tim. His face is as red as a tomato right now. Dick and Jason try to defend themselves but all of it falls into deaf ears while Steph and Duke are glaring at each other as they are really the only 2 competition. At least they think so. Damian is really just there frowning.

Ellie: My favorite is of course, Aunt Jazz.

Silence falls in the dining room. Everyone expects a lot of answers but that is certainly not it.

Dick: Ellie, who is Jazz?

Ellie: Aunt Jazz! She is Papa's sister. She always takes care of me when Papa goes to work. She is very nice and always brings me to visit Grandpa Jack and Grandma Maddie. She isn't very good at cooking though so it is usually Uncle Dan that cooks for us.

Danny: Dan and Jazz are my siblings. They take care of Ellie most of the time I'm not home so they are very close with each other.

While Ellie is talking, Danny and Cass have already seated themselves with Ellie right in the middle of them. Before they can continue, Alfred comes in with their food and they start eating.

[artinventor]

So after watching 8x17 I was informed that originally Dean was supposed to say “I love you” in the crypt instead of “I need you” but tbh the change makes more sense to me and might even be even worse than if he said “love”. Dean shows his love in everything he does, shows it plenty with everything he was doing in purgatory, but for him to not only NEED you but to admit it,,,

“I need you” was was more powerful and more in character for both of them cuz:

1. I don’t think at this point cas understands human emotion fully or human love for that matter, he’s certainly learning it more as the seasons go on, but it’s not something he’s familiar with right now. So unless dean elaborated more, which he wouldn’t, would he really know what that meant. even though he wouldn’t admit it, dean is actually so caring towards everyone, cas could easily think he could mean any type of love that isn’t special to him. Honestly considering his absent father and the fact that he’s a soldier with no army, which used to be his only purpose, he wants to be needed. Just looking at hippie cas, he turned into that cuz he lost his powers and felt useless.

2. dean is not one that tells people that, he just shows it, and he was already showing it. He never told Lisa he loved her even when he was with her as a stand in husband/father to her son for a whole year, he barely even tells Sam that he loves him and that’s his brother. Also considering who he is and how stubborn he is it’s really rare and means a lot for HIM of all people to say he “needs” you. Dean’s abandonment issues kinda rejects the idea of needing someone, and growing up the way he did, he doesn’t trust easily. Love is a risk, but needing someone is just full on vulnerability. Also it’s just insane cuz it’s like why do you need him dean? surely you’re not doing all that just cuz his angel powers are useful

Though this IS the second time dean said he needs cas, he said it in purgatory earlier in the season as well. Both times he’s pleading with cas, the first time to try and get him to go with him and escape purgatory together and the second time he’s trying to get through to him past the mind control. The second time being in a much more romantic context. He does say that they’re family before saying it, but then he says “we need you” and changes it to “I need you” which is the main thing that really does it. THEN after he breaks through it, dean asks what broke the connection and they’re both clueless, if it was purely platonic wouldn’t cas, being as blunt and factual as he is, just say that it’s because of their friend/family bond?

[writingastory]

Xavier:🍋-Alphabet

Warnings: Explicit (obviously lul), written for fem!reader

Genre: Canon AU; MC (including storylines) is non-existent.

A/N: Time to bring this classic back. 😏

A = Aftercare

🌟 Xavier is such a sweet soul. Before Aftercare even becomes a thought, he just wants to bask in Afterglow: steal soft kisses from your lips, plant the sweetest kisses everywhere his mouth can reach, pressing himself to you as close as he can (without suffocating you).

🌟 He just needs a few moments of snuggling like this, with him still inside you, until he's naturally slipping out ever so slowly.

🌟 Once that happened, he will ask you what you need and bring it to you. Something to clean yourself, a shirt, a nightgown, a snack, a beverage - you name it, he'll make it happen for you.

-

B = Body part

🌟 I feel like Xavier would be obsessed with your hands. They are so small and soft in comparison to his.

🌟 Remember the Nightly Rendevouz? When he held your hand so gently against the window? Yeah, he loves your hands.

🌟 Definitely making sure that your fingers stay entwined from the beginning to the end. He doesn't want to lose that connection, under no circumstances.

-

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

🌟 He loves to creampie you.

🌟 More specifically, he loves cumming deep inside you - and then watch his seed trickle out of you slowly.

🌟 Please don't be shy to spread your legs for him and let him watch.

🌟 Bonus points if you let him rub you to another high and he gets to watch your sweet pussy flutter and clench, pumping out his cum.

-

D = Dirty secret

🌟 Actually, this man doesn't really have a classic dirty secret. You basically know everything.

🌟 Except maybe that he thinks about letting you dom him completely for once. He's not quite sure yet how to articulate that wish, but he'll get there.

🌟 Please just bind this man to the bed and wear him out, okay? He needs it every now and then.

-

E = Experience

🌟 Not the most experieced, but!

🌟 This man is always very atuned to his loved ones, especially to the woman of his heart. So, he really doesn't need a lot of experience to know what he's doing. He sees and feels your reactions. Xavier quickly understands what you like and what you don't like.

-

F = Favorite position

🌟 It's either Flatiron or Missionary.

🌟 Either way, it's gonna be a very close variation. He craves close skin-to-skin contact.

-

G = Goofy

🌟 Unintentionally goofy sometimes. Just like he is in real life.

🌟 And that's also kinda the reason: This man has no separate personality for intimacy and sex. You get the same Xavier between the sheets that you get for grocery shopping on a Saturday morning.

🌟 So sometimes, even if he doesn't mean to, he's a little goofy while he's pressing inside of you.

-

H = Hair

🌟 Probably doesn't have the wildest hair growth anyway.

🌟 Still, he makes sure it's all neat. Doesn't shave clean though.

🌟 Also doesn't expect you to follow any "routine" for your body hair. You like removing your hair? Okay, sweet. You don't like removing your hair? Okay, sweet.

-

I = Intimacy

🌟 He's so focused on satisfying you....

🌟 Seriously, if there's a time he does not think of sleeping... it's this.

🌟 He's so sweet, too. Whispering soft words, greedy for kisses and for touching you...

🌟 He's a very soft dominant man. Yes, he likes calling the shots in bed - but he does so very gently. You're a treasure and you're ought to be treated as such.

🌟 Only exceptions are when you explicitely tell him to be rougher... or when he's jealous. That's another story, though.

-

J = Jack off

🌟 Not a fan, honestly. Not even before you two became a thing.

🌟 His thoughts may have derailed every now and then, but never to a point where he had to relief himself in some way.

🌟 Even less since you two became a couple. Why would he use his hands when yours are so much more talented...?

-

K = Kink

🌟 Voyeurism.

🌟 Need I say more?

🌟 Check "C" in this post. 😭

🌟 He totally would have you touch yourself while he watches, just saying.

-

L = Location

🌟 Everywhere it happens. Except in public. He's not a fan of public sex. That would always be an unpleasant thrill, and he'd have to rush... and he doesn't want that.

🌟 His favorite would be the bed though. Mainly because he can just snooze off once you're both satisfied.

-

M = Motivation

🌟 Huge on physical motivation.

🌟 Yes, seeing you in cute or sexy lingerie is awesome... but if you want to get him going, you need to get physical with him.

🌟 Scratch his scalp gently, kiss his neck, nibble on his collarbone - or just boldy squeeze him through his pants. He'll be mush and putty in your hands.

-

N = No

🌟 He will not do anything that hurts you.

🌟 He'd probably not even choke you, even if you asked him.

🌟 Harming you is not on his agenda.

-

O = Oral

🌟 Loves giving and receiving equally.

🌟 He would not want to finish like this, though. He'd much rather finish deep inside of your perfect pussy. But he loves when you get on your knees for him.

🌟 On the other hand, he loves burying his head between your thighs. This man will take his sweet time with you, spread you open gently and lap at your entrance and your sensitive pearl carefully. He revels in the quivers he feels around his tongue.

🌟 Please pull his hair when he goes down on you, it'll make him moan against you. :)

-

P = Pace

🌟 Depends on his mood. If it's a good day, he will take his time. It'll be sensual, passionate, a slow build up to the crashing waves of your orgasms.

🌟 If it's a bad day (or you riled him up, you bad girl), he's gonna be a lot more demanding and fast. He'll pound into you with more vigor and purpose.

🌟 Same happens when you ask him to be a little rougher with you. No matter the occasion: if he happens to fuck you a little harder and faster than usual, he'll make sure to press you down, so that you have no other choice than to take what he gives you.

-

Q = Quickie

🌟 Loves shower quickies. I don't make the rules.

🌟 If his morning shower contains washing your hair and filling you up... who is he to complain?

-

R = Risk

🌟 The riskiest thing during sex this man will do... is to try out new positions.

🌟 He's not a huge fan of taking risks. He wants intimacy to be enjoyable and not nerve-wrecking.

-

S = Stamina

🌟 Lots of Stamina on this one, he's fit as hell.

🌟 Still, he can only go one round - but that round will be worth it. Don't worry, he'll make you finish several times before he even thinks of finishing himself.

🌟 When he finishes, it's like a switch was flipped in his brain. He's satisfied, he doesn't need more than one round.

🌟 That's also why he makes sure you're thoroughly satisfied before him. He knows that once he's done, he can't go on any longer - so he takes care of you first.

-

T = Toys

🌟 No.

🌟 Would probably be confused by a lot of them?

🌟 Also, why would you need those? You have him? 🤨

-

U = Unfair

🌟 Unintentionally unfair and teasing.

🌟 He's rubbing you so good and you're close? He'd pull away, confused why you're annoyed suddenly? He was just repositioning himself to eat you out. He knows you prefer finishing on his tongue, so why the long face...?

🌟 Also, this man says the lewdest things with the straightest face. "This is welcoming me back so warmly. Can you feel it?" he'd whisper, not understanding why you're embarrassed? He was just stating a fact? :(

-

V = Volume

🌟 Noisy, but not loud.

🌟 Definitely a breather and groaner, not necessarily a moaner.

🌟 He'll make sure to breathe and groan right into your ear though, so you can hear him, no worries.

-

W = Wild card

🌟 Xavier is so obsessed with your body, but in a non-sexual way. He could spend hours just tracing your form with his fingers, finding all the little imperfections that make you you - and he'd love it.

🌟 So, don't be surprised that you find him watching you getting dressed or undressed or taking a shower. He's not trying to be creepy. He's just in awe of your beauty.

-

X = X-ray

🌟 5 inches / 12.7 cm

🌟 Pretty straight, and girthier towards the base. A few veins here and there.

🌟 His tip is slightly pink.

-

Y = Yearning

🌟 Surprisingly high. This man could go at any time during the day.

🌟 After your first time of making love, you did it daily - sometimes several times a day - because he simply could not keep his hands to himself.

🌟 You two are still very active, but mostly during "set" times and not just at any time during the day.

-

Z = Zzz...

🌟 Okay, we know this man can sleep anywhere, anytime. After sex is no exception. Once you're both clean and comfy, snuggled up under the blankets... he's out. Just like that.

🌟 He'll wrap himself around you btw, so there's no escape. You're sleeping, too. :)

[thecloudsaremyhome]

Part 3 of this ask

Duke: duke didn’t know you well to begin with. You left a few months after he arrived at he manor so he never had time to actually connect with you on a personal level. But finding out about your death without knowing you at all gets Duke very badly, and the more he starts to learn about you from the family the more he wants that connection with you. Yeah you may have been older than him but he still wanted to protect you to have the sibling connection he never got to have with you. So this leaves a guilty longing in his heart and mind but it also forms a determination to get you back at any cost.

Alfred: Alfred has known you basically all your life since you arrived here first at the manor at the age of seven till you moved out at 18 he has basically raised you the best he could, you were like a daughter/son to this man so when he finds out of your death he is absolute devestaed and very angry, angry at the people who were supposed to be your family let you slip away from them from him. So of course Alfred is and instigator so he will make sure the family feels extra guilty for your death. But he also will make sure to plant seeds into their heads on finding ways to bring you back becayse Alfred’s obsession with you is just as bad and maybe even worse than the family’s. But Alfred will find a way to bring you back to him no matter what becayse you’ve always been his you’ve just hadn’t known it yet.

Kate: Kate never really knew you well she never really stayed at the manor and has only been there to visit Bruce for missions. But she has met you once when you accidentally bumped into her. But that was it she knew nothing off you from then on. But when she heard about your death from Bruce and him pleading with her to help him find a way to bring you back. This triggers her sisterly instincts becayse just like you her sister and mother was killed in the same way so this enrages her. She starts to feel very protective over you as a whole even though your dead that doesn’t matter to her you’ll be back with her soon she can’t let the same thing happen to you. You’re so young. You had a life full ahead for you so of course she will help to find a way to bring you back no matter what. Even though you don’t know her she knows you.

Talia: Talia has heard about you through Damian from time to time when she was still in contact with her son but personally she never knew you all she knew was you were a product of another fling between her beloved and your whore of a mother but she didn’t necessarily hate you she just didn’t bother to get to know you. But then she hears of your death through Damian and Bruce wanting to use the lazirdus pit on you well this really picked up her interest know that’s when she started to do some research about you and some digging and what she found was oh so sad. Oh you poor baby no wonder you left but don’t worry she’ll help her beloved bring you back and she won’t leave like your mother did. Foolish woman for dying and not protecting her own child. Well she will do better don’t worry honey she will be your mommy now.

Authors note: okay so this will not be canon to the pity party plot this is just an alternate version of if we did die! This was the final head canon part so I hoped you enjoyed it!

[spidergirllexi]

Mingi A-Z

Nsfw, astrology based, entertainment purposes only

A=Aftercare

Mingi is good with aftercare, he’ll run you a bath, give you a massage, give you his clothes and do your hair.

B=Body part

On himself he likes his dick(no surprise) and on you he’s an ass man, so ass, hips, and thighs.

C=Cum

He’ll cum anywhere and everywhere, he doesn’t care. You want him to cum in you? He will. You want him to cum on your face? He will.

D=Dirty secret

He might have a thing for foreigners(?) hes also into a lot of assplay.

E=Experience

Has enough to know what goes where, but he still needs guidance.

F=Favorite position

Doggy, missionary, spread eagle, any position you want really.

G=Goofy

He can be, depending on the situation but he won’t opt out for it.

H=Hair

He keeps himself somewhat groomed and on his partner he doesn’t care, he’s going there either way.

I=Intimacy

He doesn’t necessarily need it, but he craves it.

J=Jerk off

He does it often, too often. There’s never really a moment where his hand isn’t in his pants playing with it.

K=Kink

He’s a kinky boy, and he’s a maladaptive daydreamer so his imagination goes wild. Everytime he thinks, another fantasy pops up. So just hard, rough sex, role playing, those types of sorts.

L=Location

Bedroom, he likes the security of it. But he also wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere else either.

M=Motivation

Doesnt take much, literally just look at him and he’s ready to go.

N=No

He won’t say no to anything, he’s pretty experimental. The only time he’ll say no is if he’s tried it and he doesn’t like it.

O=Oral

He’s really good in this department, he likes giving more than receiving though.

P=Pace

He likes to jackhammer his dick into you, so shallow and rough.

Q=Quickies

He’s not opposed to them and wouldn’t reject it, but they’re not his favorite.

R=Risk

He would, depending on the situation.

S=Stamina

Can last two hours max because his dick will start to hurt.

T=Toys

Yes! He loves both giving and being on the receiving end of this one.

U=Unfair

Eh, it depends. He can be when he’s dominant but when he’s submissive, he won’t.

V=Volume

Not the loudest, a few grunts and some whimpers.

W=Wild card

Hes into taboo, meaning friends mom, friends sister, maybe cousin? That one came out of nowhere.

X=X-ray

He’s quite big, around 8-9 inches and quite girthy.

Y=Yearning

He has a high drive, always horny.

Z=Zzz

He doesn’t sleep after, he wants to talk, he wants the emotional connection while cuddling.

[aroacesafeplaceforall]

I need some advice on probably the most complicated relationship I've ever had.

The guy who I am attracted to is AroAllo. I didn't know this until he told me later after we went on a date. I am still very confused on what this is. Then he told me that he is sexually attracted to me but not romantically attracted to me.

All in all, we are "friends" again. However anyone that doesn't know our situation assumes we're dating. It's really awkward when its brought up. We're in this weird lingo as of now between friends and something more which is all in all very strange. He acts as though he is attracted to me.

The thing is he is perfect. He's incredibly handsome, smart, funny, kind, understanding and is amazing at communication. When it comes to affection, he tends to avoid it quite a lot.

I have been trying to wrap my head around this idea of AroAllo. It doesn't make any sense to me but it is probably just my ignorance and I am AlloAllo. I understand casual sex. But like, how can you not have some romance before sex? You have to kiss, you have to flirt. Does that fall under romance or am I missing something?

Also how do I navigate this relationship? I don't know what to do. It's torture but he is such a good friend and he genuinely listens to me and values me. I am attracted to him still and I can't seem to shake it.

Please, if you can. Give me some advice on this. And I am deeply sorry for the ridiculous long ask.

-confused anon

First of all, I am proud of you for seeking advice in this. You're alloallo and therefore don't really get what's up here, so it's amazing that you came here!

I will refer to this guy as guy.

FOR UNDERSTANDING HIM: Separate sexual and romantic attraction, this is called SAM (split attraction model) and it means a person separates romantic and sexual attraction in their identity. Not everyone does this (including some aspec), it's hard to do, and not everyone can. But it's a good step forward in understanding Guy. If he identifies as Alloaro then he is using the split attraction model (SAM).

A good example is cereal and milk. You, as an alloallo, see cereal and milk as coming together, something that can't be separated. Guy, on the other hand, sees milk as gross and eats cereal straight from the box. An asexual hates cereal and just drinks milk, and I, an aroace, hate both and will die before I eat it.

Obviously this is an over simplification. Some asexuals may still eat some cereal but only because they want to support the brand (for their partner) some aromantics will still drink milk but only after long-standing connections and talks about drinking milk.

FOR UNDERSTANDING YOURSELF:

For how you have described Guy, though, it seems that he is not interested in a definitive romantic relationship. Meaning, while he might not mind being referred to as being in a romantic relationship, I don't think, from what you have written, he is at all romantically attracted to you. He says he likes you sexually, and probably platonically, and likes you as a person. From the sounds of it, he perhaps wants to date, but with no romantic attraction on his end.

Basically, the crux of it is, would you be okay with a relationship that is romantically purely one-sided?

On top of that, talk to him. Understand exactly what he wants from you, and tell him what you would want of him. Understand that asking him to “feel romantic attraction” is not going to work and will drive him away, same with any other attempt to undermine his identity.

Some questions that may help:

"What do you actually feel for me?" "Why did you ask me on a date if you knew you were aroallo?" "How do you feel about me being attracted to you romantically?" "What would you want from me in a relationship?" "Would this be casual sex, or would it be a relationship? Would this be committed?" "Would a queer platonic relationship (QPR for further research) work for you?" "How to you feel like appearing like we are dating?"

Hope this helps going to tag some aro blogs please spare me guys im aroace im trying here @aromantic-official @aro-culture-is @our-aro-experience @our-arospec-experience @aroallo-culture-is and every other aroallo

I WROTE THIS WHILE SLEEP DEPRIVED, I AM SORRY FOR ERRORS

[minas-linkverse]

I'd love to see your though proseces for Finding the Founding! (I love that whole mini arc so much! Even if I feel really bad for wild...)

This is the earliest update anyone's asked about, so I'll be starting here. ALTHOUGH... I kind of dread to, because looking at old art is incredibly difficult. I'll do it-- I'll do it for you all and my love for yapping.

Director's commentary: Finding the Founding Full update <-

I was still far from good at comic making, but I was very ambitious, so although the visual story telling in this update isn't up to my standards now, there's some neat things past-Mina did.

The establishing shot is both telling and cryptic-- I'd say it leans too much towards the latter but she tried. The goal was to have enough hints to clue the viewer who knows skyward sword into the fact that this was the Goddess statue courtyard-- Which would ideally build tension. However past-Mina was too waaay too subtle. I took the liberty to edit how I'd do this panel today: having a part of the statue loom over the panel. This way even the viewers who don't remember the courtyard's birch trees can tell something big is waiting.

Altho I do like the detail that there's some wood planks in the background. Reminds the reader that this is post-game and they're doing building 💪

Groose :) The lore with the accessory that Link, Zelda and Groose wear is that he made them for the squad. The motive was actually polyamorous yearning but he's too insecure to admit it yet. You can see he wears his different and it has alternate feathers, it's like. A metaphor for self isolating or smth.👍I love Groozelink but they're not established in the time the comic takes place, so we get a longing flustered groose instead... Not that I've gotten to show that in the comic yet. Er.

At this point in the comic I hadn't settled on a consistant lineweight, and hadn't started using bold outer lines yet. So although the art isn't bad, it looks chaotic and unfinished. You can also see I was using WAY too thick of a brush for the panels and made the text too small. Gotta start somewhere, I guess!

Another ambitious panel, I was trying to have Groose's dialogue make it more poignant that the statue is BIG and STARING DOWN but the art REALLY didn't work with it. The statue looks tiiiny and besides the clouds curving into a halo it's all just a very boring image.

I super quickly threw a fish-eye-lense distortion on the panel to show something closer to what I'd wanted it to look, but didn't have the skills for at the time.

In the last segment of the update Wild has a panic attack type-o-deal which is again made less effective by the art, but past-Mina did try real hard and I respect that.

These two sets of panels were meant to be kind before-and-after transformations.

Wild going from seeing a family talk -> to the wall being torn and the tree destroyed with a guardian on the move. THEN Groose -> melting into a malice skeleton. I really don't think past me did a good job with that. I should've included more details that stayed between the two panels so they'd be more clearly connected. It's a cool idea tho, and in later updates I started to figure out how to execute cool ideas, so... Practise for the win.

Also nobody ever pointed it out at the time, but Wild's hair actually goes from the hairstyle he has in the comic to a hairstyle much closer to what he had back in the war. That and the colour fading from his eyes are deets I can still get behind whole-heartedly.

In the final page of the update there's a massive tonal shift where the art goes simple and the dialogue silly. It really depends on the tone you want for your comic, as this kind of a move can completely undo any tension you built, but in this case I think it's a very well done whiplash feel-good(ish) ending.

I think LV's updates started very amateurish, but I did seem to have a pretty good grasp on pacing and tone since the start. I'm very proud of that.

_

You can probably tell I don't much like this update anymore, haha. I appreciate what it meant for me back then and have nothing against people who still like it. To me its just a great example of all the things where I was falling flat when I first started.

Besides the panic attack wasn't an idea I even liked back then-- It felt like sudden unnecessary melodrama that could've easily been replaced with more nuanced emotions. However I'd seen people hype up all sorts of angsty art in the fandom at the time and felt like if I didn't put in something intense people wouldn't care about my comic. It's silly looking back-- You should be true to yourself when you make art, that way you'll like what you make and it doesn't age as poorly.

Never-the-less, the journey of making this webcomic so far has been really good for my comic skills and although I cringe at the past updates: they're still valuable stepping stones on that journey and I'm happy to look back and reflect! Thanks for requesting this update for analysis, and hope others can get something out of it too!

[schwarzgeier]

GEIER SQUAD TIMEEEEEE

I felt bad not really making a full squad for my original Geier , Null, so here they all are! Biggg Lore yap under cut

S-12 on Leng is a remote underground facility specializing in waste managment and serves as a connecting hub for smaller facilities around Leng. The Geiers here were deployed first after signs of potential bioresonant infection that they have been able to contain for now, while also coincidently helping with the waste incineration. Sierpinski-12s remote location was also chosen for it's natural secrecy and level of freedom to experiment with the Geiers anti-bioresonant modules by putting them up againts the local Commander/Kolibris.

And as you may notice , aside from Null, all the Geiers are nicknamed after different types of metal. This is due to their small. Incident when on their very first assingment of clearing out the infested lower levels, while cornering their enemies and burning them , they produced so much heat and flames they basically burned down the metal walls of the room . Literally melted it all off. The 4 new fledglings found it cool to name themselves after metals . Null was not there and already had a name.

GEIR LS12 - 000 - "NULL" -

The first ever succesfuly deployed Geier to service . Was originaly deployed as a solo unit until AEON came to the conclusiom GEIRs work best in squads of 5 and Null was given additonal 4 squadmates . Null is what most associate when thinking of a Geier unit. Quiet , stoic but not rude . Keeps to herself unless provoked . Incredibly numb to most events happening around her, mostly due to the bioresonant supressor module being so strong for the first deployments. Wears her mask often as a form of comfort . Special to her though is her one-on-one spar sessions with the Commander every week . They are heavily classified and they happen in isolation from other replikas. These spars are often the highlight of the week for both Null and Falke , they can both go full out on eachother with no restraints. Rest of the Nulls cadre often tease her for having "longer sessions" with Falke then anyone else but Null isn't bothered. Her Cadre is there , they stand all together and she will die for them if needed. Just don't expect her to gush. Or talk about the pret- i mean respected Commander

GEIR LS12 - 003 - "KOBALT"

GEIR LS12 - 004 - "ALLOY"

First of the new additions to S-12, Kobalt ! She's often identifiable by her tendency to growl or mutter out responses and her seemingly constant frown. She's not as reactive as a Storch ofc , still a Geier. She , similair to Null, likes sparring and getting her armor dented in any way she can , which often leads to her trying to spar with Null since she's the most experienced. Null entertains her sometimes but it keeps ending with Kobalt in a leg lock . With her being the most reactive , Kobalt is often the Geier that yanks Aras from vents or stares at a suspiscious gestalt with a glare so strong they can piss themselves . She's working on it but since she hasn't hurt anyone really yet , a firm scolding is the most she got. She barks at strangers like a dog but doesn't have the confidence yet to bite.

The resident "softie" of the group , well as much of a softie as a Geier can be. She still can bend a replikas spine in half . But in general she has become the go to Geier for all the Eules or Aras searching for any help. Moving boxes ? She'll grab em all. Scary sounds in the vents? Checks em out , no questions asked. Someone (she doesn't know who still) left her a fuzzy blanket as a gift for the help and she has fallen in love with it since . It led to an almost comical scene of all the Geiers gathering around her bunk , poking and proding the blanket in confusion. Often she chooses to tie her hair a bit lower for identification . Alloy is just a pretty reserved girl that needs lot of coaxing to speak her mind. She's reliable , watches her strength and just doesn't want suprises.

GEIR LS12 - 005 - "SILVER"

GEIR LS12 - 003 - "COPPER"

Silver may be named after the shiny pretty silverwear that draws your attention but it funnily enough became more associated with her. Tounge iykwim. Her tendency to give blunt compliments catches lot of people off guard but I suppose it's a side effect of her gay brain and a very blunt Geier brain. Doesn't take stuff too seriously and kinda goes through her job like a dad at a barbeque in a hawain t-shirt . She's the most recognizable from the cadre having a visible burn scar on her entire left forearm from an accident that happened during flamethrower/gas tank maintnence. Not many spare GEIR arms laying around so scars it is. This also started her small. Masochism streak? Silver is the only one who finds the numbness a bit bothersome sometimes , and physical sensations of any kind are the easiest avenue to feel. Anything really. She controls it of course but indulgances happen. During downtime Silver loves letting down her hair and lounging around or watching other replikas in their activities. Eules dancing , Stars shooting or her fellow Geiers relaxing . Or "accidently" flirting with anything within her vascinity coughcough

Biggest stick up her ass . Or at least she acts like it fjfjf. Cooper is. A bit of a weirdo among the Geiers but not a bad one. Sticking to protokols and rules is her way of keeping the peace and prevents any scuffles from happening . Her duty to nation and law creates bit of a conflict inside her head,which in Geiers often results to a borderline brain shutdown. Contradiction should not be possible yet Copper has them. Being drawn to the burnt corpses that she leaves behind , catching herself wanting to make exceptions to rules for her close ones or her weakness to shiny trinkets , all of these little habits make her spiral sometimes. She is fully capable of marching up to the Commander and begging for her decommisioning. She hasn't of course , yet , mostly cause part of her is too embarrased to admit she finds her constant thoughts about Kolibris cute height kinda heretical .

Sorry for the big yap

[lilypotter6457]

The Love of My Life

Multi-Fandom One Shots

•|Master List|•

🏒Luke Hughes x Reader: Choreographer💝

REQUESTED BY: No One

Prompt: "I don't really know how to dance..." "It's never too late to learn"

Type: Fluff 💝

~•~•~•~•~•~

Luke was the outgoing type, always surrounded by friends, partying whenever he got the chance. He's a hockey guy, it made sense.

He was only at University of Michigan to advance in hockey, so while he kept his grades up, he never really cared. He has two brothers in the NHL, it made sense.

So what didn't make sense was his behavior recently.

His head was in the clouds, he wanted to do more in certain classes, and his friends were confused.

Until they saw her.

Y/N L/N.

A dancer, with connections across the industry.

They were unsure what about her was so special to him, especially because she was the complete opposite of Luke.

Quiet, introverted, few friends, never partying, his attraction didn't make sense.

But not everything about Luke had to make sense.

But, despite his fascination with the girl, it never went anywhere.

He eventually got drafted to the Devils, leaving Michigan to play in Jersey.

Meanwhile Y/N went to London, to help choreograph a movie.

To Luke it was the end of his chances, but the universe had different ideas...

~Time Skip - Fall 2024~

Y/N now worked in New York City, living in Hoboken, New Jersey though.

Now starring in The Great Gatsby on Broadway, being the assistant choreographer/dance captain. She was also in the ensemble.

Luke, playing hockey for the devils, lived with his brother in Hoboken as well.

It was a shock their paths never crossed.

Until a certain day.

Luke, leaving his apartment early one morning, his brother blowing his phone up that they were gonna be late.

Rushing out of the elevator, towards the lobby, he almost made it to the door when he suddenly hit something.

Or someone.

Falling back, he heard a voice "ow."

Looking up, he made eye contact with a certain girl.

The girl he was obsessed with.

Y/N.

"I am so sorry" she says, standing up, helping him up.

He looks at her, "it's my fault, should've been paying attention."

He looks at her face, seeing the same girl he remembered from university, still as gorgeous with a new charm.

"Well, I'll see you" she says, walking out.

His eyes follow her, watching as she walked to the elevator.

He was only taken out of his thoughts when Jack honked the car from behind him.

Rushing to practice.

~~

Practice was hell for Luke, he tried to focus but his mind kept going back to the girl, and Jack noticed.

Just because he was in the car doesn't mean he didn't see the interaction.

Having heard the stories over the summer from Luke's friends, talking about his obsession with some girl he doesn't know, it wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. And that's why Jack put it together so quickly.

The ride home was silent, Jack plotting to get his brother to grow some balls while Luke's mind was on the girl once again.

Back at the apartment building, they walked in, heading towards the elevator, Jack spotted his brother's crush.

She was on a couch, looking occupied on her phone.

But that's no matter, Jack had a plan.

He suddenly tripped himself, pushing the full 184 lbs that was Luke Hughes over, resulting in him landing on the couch.

Directly on the girl.

"Ouch" she says, shocked by the impact.

Looking down, she spots the same boy from earlier. The boy who had been on her mind all day, the boy who she had noticed in Michigan but knew she didn't have a chance. How would a star hockey player like himself want an introverted theatre nerd like herself.

If only she knew.

"Hey stranger," she jokes, looking at the boy on top of her.

"I- I- I'm sor- sorry" he stutters out.

Both red faced, he quickly gets off of her.

Standing up, he apologized once again.

Walking away, Jack interjected, not wanting time to be wasted, the season is approaching and Luke can't have his mind in the gutter.

"Hey, I'm Jack, and that's Luke, you are...?" He starts, stopping Luke.

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you Jack" she responds happily, shaking his hand.

"Well Y/N, it's nice to meet you, if you're ever bored, I don't think we'd mind having some company over, right Luke?" He says, towards his brother.

"Y-yeah" is all Luke manages to get out.

"Well thank you, I think I have time before work if you guys are free?" She asks, unsure.

"Yeah, we just got done practice so give it like an hour and we can meet back here," Jack says.

"Okay, see you guys then."

~One Hour Later~

Luke took forever to get ready, wanting to look perfect for this as he knew this could be his chance.

If he grows some balls anyways.

Jack texted Quinn, making him aware and telling him that his brother better grow up or he'll strangle him.

Meanwhile, Y/N was calling her close friend, Sam. She knew she needed some Sam Pauly advice right about now.

"Just be straight up, if he doesn't reciprocate then he's crazy. Any guy would be lucky to have a talented girl like you, and if he can't see that then he isn't worth it," she says, being straight up.

This leads us to now, the three at a small coffee shop, talking about life.

"So Y/N, what do you do for work?" Jack asks, trying to get more information for his plan.

"I'm currently in The Great Gatsby over in the city," she says.

"Wait that's a musical?" Jack asks, acting as if he had even read the book.

"Yeah, I also am the assistant choreographer," she says.

Great. Jacks plan was forming by the second.

"Oh, so you dance?" He says, pretending to be interested.

"Yeah, I've been dancing since I could walk, I went to Michigan for a while before leaving to pursue a job over in England."

"University of Michigan or Michigan State?"

"University of Michigan, I'd rather jump into the river before going to Michigan State," she jokes.

"Well, Lukey here also went there, isn't that right?"

"Y-yeah" he says, being to intrigued by the girl to speak.

"Oh that's cool!"

"Yeah, well maybe one day you can teach us to dance sometime, Luke especially needs it."

"Hey!"

Y/N and Jack laugh as Luke looks embarrassed.

"Don't worry, everyone starts somewhere, and I'll gladly help if you want,"

They plan to meet that weekend to learn some dance, Jacks plan has fallen into play.

~That Weekend~

Luke looked at the time, seeing his brother getting ready. But not to dance.

"Where are you going?" Luke asks.

"Out, I have plans" Jack responds.

"What about the dancing?" Luke asks.

"I already told Y/N I can't make it, have fun and don't mess it up," Jack says, grabbing his keys to leave.

"What does that mean?" Luke yells after his brother.

"You know exactly what it means, and you better thank me later!" Jack says, walking out of the apartment.

Luke wasn't sure what he'd do now.

Eventually Y/N got a knock at the door, opening it to see Luke.

In a black Devils sweatshirt and grey Michigan sweatpants.

Letting him in, it was awkward and intense.

"So, because it's just us and I'm not sure your skill level yet I thought we'd start with something basic," she says, pulling up a video for Luke to see.

Luke watched, intrigued by the dance, but more intrigued by the girl next to him.

Y/N started to teach the moves, Luke however wasn't picking it up.

He was trying, sure, but his mind was distracted.

He's in the apartment of his crush, alone, as she is in a crop top and very short dance shorts. What else could you expect from the boy.

Y/N notices his struggle and says they should take a break, they sit on her couch, waters in hand. Silence filling the space.

"Is everything okay Luke?" Y/N asks, breaking the silence.

"Y-yeah, why?" Luke asks.

"You just seem," Y/N starts, scooting in to be closer to him, "out of it."

Feeling her closeness, he tenses slightly, "y-yeah, sorry, it's just-"

He stops, realizing he didn't have the guts to tell the truth.

Feeling her scoot closer, he does the same, their bodies practically touching.

"I don't really know how to dance..."

"It's never too late to learn"

And with that, their lips collided.

It was nothing either of them had felt before.

Sure Luke kissed many girls, but they weren't anything compared to Y/N.

And sure Y/N had gone on for Eva, getting to kiss the Jeremy Jordan a few times, but there's a difference between kissing your married coworker for a scene and kissing the guy who you've had a crush on for 4 years now.

Breaking away for air, Luke rested his forehead against Y/N's, their breathing steadying.

"I think I'm going to need more lessons, your dances are difficult," Luke says.

"Yeah, maybe we should have weekly lessons," Y/N responds, pulling herself closer to Luke.

"Daily may be better" he says, pulling the girl to lay on top of him.

"We'll see about that"

Their lips connect once again, and they did a different style of dance that night.

~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this, comment a request below plz cuz idk what to write

Published: Feb 18, 2025

Word Count: 1605

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

The sonic movie franchise would've been better if Tom and Maddie weren't a part of it and this is a hill I will die on. Like, to me, their addition to the movie just feels like it takes away from Sonic's potential character development and his connection to the other characters, and now I must make my own canon.

In the first movie, Sonic is shown how as a child he can't stay in one place for long; he just naturally longs to move about, to go anywhere and everywhere. But that instinct of his is what ends up killing his guardian in the end, landing him in the human world. Now, Sonic has the ability to travel the world in like a minute, but he doesn't. Because in his mind, his inability to stay in hiding was what got Longclaw killed, and now he's scared to do it again. We see scenes of little Sonic attempting to leave Green Hill, a place he can very easily hide out undetected, but in the end he can't, overcome by his guilt and fear. So he stays in Green Hill, slowly growing more unstable through his isolation and confinement. So he talks to himself constantly, basically just saying every single one of his thoughts out loud, taking on different personas to have conversations (I thought that part of the movie was sad but very interesting for his character and I'm kinda sad they didn't do more with it). Then this all came ahead with the baseball thing, and Robotnik and Stone are called in (I change nothing about Robotnik and Stone they're perfect thank you). Now Sonic, he knows he needs to go to the mushroom world, but if he does, he feels he'll lose any connection to another living individual, even if it is all in his head. He doesn't want that, but he knows staying in Green Hills will get him caught eventually, so he resolves to leave to somewhere else in the world. It's a struggle for him to leave the town, with him basically having an argument with himself, but he manages it. Then for the rest of the movie we see Sonic moving around the world, talking to himself all the while, skipping town when Robotnik is on his trail, slowly being able to trust that venturing out won't be the end of the world. But at some point Robotnik gets too close, and although Sonic gets away, there's collateral damage. This causes Sonic to spiral in self hatred, screaming at himself. He passes out at some point, then has a dream about Longclaw. During this dream, she helps him realize that it's not him being free that's the problem, it's him running away. After Sonic fights, that's when he'll be truly free. Though, it's also during this dream conversation, that Sonic says something like "I know you're not really Longclaw; she'd tell me to keep running, to keep hiding." And dream Longclaw just smiles and Sonic wakes up. Then he goes off and faces Robotnik, with Robotnik ending up in the mushroom dimension, and Sonic now has a better sense of himself. He's forgiving himself for what happened, and allowing himself to be who he really is; someone who needs to act of their own free will, who wanders around at the speed of light, who faces problems head on.

In the second movie, Sonic is still on Earth; he wanted to explore every bit of it before resolving to move on. Trouble was, now he's seen all of it, and he has no idea where to move on to. He feels stuck, having no direction, all while monologuing this to himself as he always does. Then Robotnik and Knuckles come bursting in (keeping the scene of them meeting), with Knuckles yelling about the Master Emerald. They fight, and Knuckles is kind of weirded out about how Sonic is just saying every single thought that comes into his head, just kind of taking it as Sonic being cocky and a yapper (I want Sonic's habit of talking to himself due to isolation to be misunderstood like this by basically everyone he meets and only those that really know him know the truth of why he does it). Then Tails bursts in, and I want Tails to be there also for the Master Emerald, having tracked its location to Earth, wanting to study it for science purposes. He doesn't know anything about Sonic, but he heard their fight and thinks Sonic knows the location of the Emerald. So he snatches Sonic up and they break away. (Also, I'm aging Tails up to be 12 instead of 8, it just makes more sense to me. He can still be younger than the rest of the gang just not like, a baby hanging out with a bunch of teenagers) Tails quickly finds out that Sonic knows nothing about the Emerald, which is frustrating, but Sonic brings out his magical map, and the two agree to find the Emerald together. Now, Sonic could honestly care less about the Emerald, but he's thrilled to have someone to talk to finally, with Tails making the same conclusion about him that Knuckles did. Meanwhile, Tails has no time for this nonsense of bonding or whatever, he doesn't have time for that; he's a scientist! He never needed anyone and he's not going to start now! This is a temporary partnership and then they'll go their separate ways (It's giving Tails has always been ostracized by society due to his two tails and seen as less than, dehumanized for his physical appearance, so now he's closed himself off from anyone before they have the chance to hurt him). They really are a "has been isolated for so long and is desperate for this opportunity to be around someone" and "has been constantly surrounded by awful people so now wants to self isolate" duo, and they deal with that as finding the Emerald shenanigans ensue. Meanwhile Knuckles and Robotnik are crashing in from time to time, a violent race towards the Emerald (I like what they did with Knuckles character, making him this dimension-wide known fighter who is still grieving not only his family but his entire species). Knuckles feels like he must carry the weight of the Echidna's, that by being the very last of his people his each and every action must be in their honor, not really considering himself an individual. On the Tails and Sonic front, let's say at this point they failed to get the compass, Tails is injured but still functioning, and they secretly followed Robotnik and Knuckles to get the Emerald. Now, Tails has basically had enough of Sonic at this point; not because he doesn't like him, but because he can feel himself growing closer to him, and that scares Tails so much. So he starts arguing with Sonic, saying horrible things to try and push him away. At some point in the argument, Sonic is like, 

"I don't understand why you're acting like this! What did I do wrong?"

"Yeah, you don't get it, do you? People just do this Sonic, they say and do horrible things when you don't deserve it, that's how it works (projecting his trauma)! You don't even know that?" 

"No, I don't!" 

"Of course you wouldn't, there's just nothing wrong with you is there?"

"Well I wouldn't know would I; you're the first person I've actually spoken to in over a decade!"

Tails is flabbergasted at this; Sonic had just seemed so bright and carefree up to this point, if a bit manic. He honestly hadn't thought of Sonic going through hardship. And Sonic, now that they've had a moment to calm down, is thinking over what Tails said, the obvious hurt in it. But before they can unpack any of that, they have to do Emerald shenanigans, the fight ensuing and the Robotnik betrayal. Tails and Sonic get temporarily separated, with the rescuing under the water scene. Then Tails finds them again and does the last push to get them both out of the water, now all on the beach. And so there they were, three broken down kids with the world falling apart around them. They end up talking, revealing these little secrets about themselves, finding the ways they are similar. Then they team up to defeat Robotnik, and the whole thing with Sonic and the Master Emerald, with them promising that they should protect it rather than use it, mostly because Sonic reveals how he almost lost himself to the power while using it. And so now the three have each other in a little makeshift family. Sonic learns how to have genuine connections with others rather than desperately trying to force one (though he still has that manically talking to himself habit), Tails learns that it's okay to open yourself up and be close with the right people (though he still has those trust issues), and Knuckles learns it's okay to make decisions that he thinks are right and not solely focus on making decisions he thinks the echidna's would have wanted (though he still carries that "I'm an inter-dimensional warrior and must act accordingly" mindset). They're not perfect, but they have each other, and they find comfort in that.

And then in the third movie, the three of them actually have left Earth, doing their own thing. Knuckles has been all over so he knows places they can go (Tails is not overly fond of going back to his own home), though Knuckles often forgets wherever he went he was kinda violent so wherever they go they're often met with fear and/or hostility. Still, they make it work; Knuckles isn't used to settling down in one place, and Sonic and Tails are super hyped to constantly be on the move, to see new things (Tails sometimes complains if he was studying something and they have to go, but they always promise to either take it with them or come back in secret for Tails to study it, which they always do follow up on). Besides, they consider each other to be their home, so it doesn't really matter where they are. Anyway, they go back to Earth because that's where they hid the Master Emerald, being the most obscure planet ever, and Tails is picking up some sort of vague sciencey related troubles back on Earth on his monitor (Shadow breaking out; keeping all the Shadow flashback scenes). So they go back to Earth to the source of said disturbance and find Shadow, the fight ensuing. As for Shadow, before this we saw him hunting down any trace of Maria, hoping that maybe what he saw was wrong, that she somehow survived, only to be proven wrong, and we watch his breakdown, see his resolve to have it all burn. Anyway, after the fight Stone finds them, and they temporarily team up with Robotnik, since Stone, having done his research, says that to his knowledge it seems like Shadow is planning on world domination or something (he's not). And Robotnik wouldn't want that because that's HIS job, and the gang doesn't want that because that would make where they hid the Emerald less than safe. Knuckles, having been betrayed once before, isn't on board with this, but takes on the "the enemy to my enemy is my ally FOR NOW" warrior mindset and resolves to kill him ("Fine, 'maim him'; ugh you guys are so sensitive" - the two are trying to break Knuckles overly murderous tendencies, to only murder when strictly necessary) afterwards. Sonic is cautious, since Robotnik is literally the embodiment of everything Longclaw has ever warned him about, but being his all over the place self he is the most willing to do this team up. Tails, with his trust issues having self, is even more hostile than Knuckles is. And he's incredibly protective over Sonic and Knuckles knowing what Robotnik has tried to do to both of them. Tails also bumps heads with Robotnik when it comes to genius level mechanic stuff, both of them thinking they're more smart and more capable than the other. Anyway, shenanigans ensue, and Robotnik meets his grandfather and such. And then, instead of Tom getting life threateningly hurt, it's Knuckles and Tails getting badly injured. And now it's Sonic that has to deal with it, trying to make sure they don't die. He can't go to the hospitals; they aren't people, they won't know what to do with them. So it's this tense moment of Sonic trying to medically keep Knuckles and Tails stable, pulling out his scarce knowledge of injuries, getting them to a safe place. He gets them as stable as he can, and he watches as his only two friends in the world, his makeshift family, struggle to hang on. So Sonic loses it, and breaks the group's promise and gets the Master Emerald to fight Shadow. But eventually, with Sonic so close to the kill, he sees how Shadow wants to die, wants everything to die with him. They talk of their grief, how Sonic wanted everything to die too, but he kept going. Things progress; Robotnik sacrifices himself for Stone, Knuckles and Tails show up to the fight despite being injured and barely conscious, and Shadow "dies" (he's coming back). When it's all over, Sonic apologizes for taking the Emerald, and though the other two forgave him, he tells them to hide it somewhere and not tell him where, so he won't get any more ideas to use it again, acknowledging how similar he is to Shadow in this regard. 

I just feel like taking Tom and Maddie away leaves more room for the story and characters to grow.