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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 1 year ago

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In A Sentimental Mood: A Ruggie/Yuu Oneshot

Some quick Housekeeping! This was originally meant to be a song-fic but the only time I remembered to/felt inspired to write was nearly the middle of the night (as writers do lol) so I didn’t have enough mental energy to splice the lyrics together into the story. Instead, I listened to the song on repeat while writing, like, HALF of the fic but I thought it was cute enough to fit the vibes. The narrator's voice and descriptions were hard to keep consistent as well as concise, but whatever. I don’t think I properly matched Ruggie’s speech pattern but I think it’s close enough to ‘random, working class teenager’ for now.

Also! It’s an X Yuu but I’m pretty sure I used all GN! Pronouns so please feel free to read it as an X Reader (who’s the Ramshackle Perfect). It felt kinda awkward to not describe the character or use open descriptors (like Y/N, HC, etc.) but feel free to add any notes or styles to try out for an open reader audience. Honestly feel free to comment or message any feedback lol! I don’t have a beta reader atm (I might ask either my gf or my IRL friend who’s also into TWST) but it could be fun to have a random stranger react to my writing so they’re disconnected from personal feelings and whatnot.

I have a fic introducing my oc a little interacting with the Pop Music Club, but it’s making out to be longer than expected so between writing for my own AU/ocs story I’ll be posting cute lil song-fics as well as crackhead interactions lol! Maybe a few headcanons as well. I’m not sure if I would have ever actually started writing fanfics (or writing in general) instead of simply daydreaming about it if it wasn’t for @twst-beam and @krenenbaker , so a quick dedication for them for lowkey lighting a fire under my ass. Not only have you opened the creative floodgates, but actually gave me the motivation to actually TRY and put it into action. Anyway…. ON TO THE STORY BITCHES!!! ENJOY THE THE SWEET HYENA BOY (who weirdly looks exactly like my Boyfriend, lol) AND COME REALISH IN THE CHAOS~

In A Sentimental Mood:

A Ruggie/Yuu one-shot

It had been a long day. Scratch that–it had been the longest year of Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu’s life! However, there was something especially trying these last 24 hours. Maybe it had something to do with how this was the first day off the both had (that lined up) in w e e k s and they STILL BOTH got called in to run some nonsensical errand. Or maybe it’s because when the First Year Squad were supposed to be babysitting Grim the entire first floor of Ramshackle got absolutely trashed.

Something about stupid bets, idiotic magic competition, and a prolonged chase. Afterwards, Rugs and Yuu had to help clean up! The aftermath of the wreckage was too much for the Hodge Podge group of freshmen.

What really topped the day off was the mission impossible scheme the couple failed to pull off. Originally, the two were simply planning to “borrow” on one Leonas (numerous) credit cards while the latter was passed out for an all-expenses-paid date out. It’s not like they were about to rob the second prince blind! Just a few trips to their usual thrifting stops, maybe hassle with a local boutique and then some semi-fancy free grub.

Instead they got caught two shops in when they decided to grab some food before being totally weighed down by paper shopping bags. Since they had a later start, Yuu suggested getting dinner to the new uppity wine-and-dine.

“C’mon Rugs~ When are we gonna have another chance to dine like Kings? And on a Royal Dime at that!” they foolishly (but successfully) tempted the poor Hyena into a little more Mischievous than the two realized.

Too bad their Dinner Date got cut short from one of the waiters recognizing the Sunset Savannah Royal Seal on Leona’s card. It took an hour and a half of being corralled into a backroom, 3 ominous threats of calling the police, snarky back talk and just general arguing before Leona strutted into the Restaurant and vouched for his underclassmen. Seeing the lazy Lion not only WAKE UP, but come off campus was a bit of a surprise for the thief couple.

What wasn’t as surprising was his smug, diva face while declaring that they would need to pay him back for disturbing his nap. After hasty, and admittedly sheepish, promises to the Prince, he collected his missing card and strutted back to campus. Luckily, he was secretly a bit of a softy towards his unofficial Vice and the magicless Perfect that saved his life (and probably his status for not ratting him out to his older brother). It’s safe to say while making the switch a decent stack of Thaumarks was placed in Ruggie’s wallet.

So yeah, in a word, the day had been a bit of a shitshow. A clusterfuck of misfortunate events (and if it weren’t for Leona, Yuu and Ruggie would not only be in some kind of jail but also flat broke).

But finally–finally–this hardworking hyena Beastman and the Ramshackle Perfect were about to have some peace and quiet! A moment for just the two of them. A small, precious moment late at night. After the longest night of their collective lives, the two were able to cuddle up and appreciate what they had. Even if all they had was encompassed by long, tiring days and horrendous luck… and having the bend to the whims of some of the brattiest Divas of NRC.

Regardless, this time isn’t about them. It’s about Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu enjoying what left they had of their day off, Damnnit!

“Ya’ know,” Yuu hummed into where their face was buried for max comfort; Ruggie’s chest. “Today wasn’t a total bust.”

Ruggie snickered sarcastically as his left hand paused its petting motion through his significant other’s hair. He was clearly only humoring his lover's thought process, yet paying attention all the same.

“I’m just saying it wasn’t a total loss,” they began to half-jokingly argue, “I still got to spend the day with you. Besides, you gotta admit it was pretty funny watching that stupid manager’s annoying face drop when Prince Grumpy strutted in all pissy!”

“Shee Shee Shee! Fair enough, Sugar! Good thing he didn’t realize Leona’s always cranky… or that His Majesty~ was mostly just pissed he had to wake up.” Ruggie answered playfully.

“It was kinda sweet of him for letting us, mostly, off the hook though. He even let us keep our goodies along with that sneaky bonus,” Yuu mentioned while lazily motioning towards the small mound of shopping bags and the miscellaneous items inside.

“Pleeeease~ He probably spends more on a single earring than we did with his card and cash combined,” Rugs pouted enviously. To emphasize his pout, he completely encircled Yuu with his arms and clutched them tightly. He was hanging onto them tighter than a swiped snack from the cafeteria on Doughnut day.

“I don’t know,” his partner giggled in response, “Leona’s been such a softy lately… but his whole dark and brooding reputation gets in the way a bit.”

“Dark and brooding?” Ruggie snorted, “Dunno if Leona’s habits of lyin’ around counts as dark and brooding.”

Yuu tried to suppress their elated smirk at feeling the slight tremor of quiet laughter. “True, that’s more of Mal’s stick isn’t it? Angsty and depressed?”

“Nahhh, that’s Idia’s thing! Also, I still can’t wrap my head ‘round you calling Malleus by some nickname.” His laughter died down as he scrunched his nose at the thought of his partner so buddy-buddy with one of Twisted Wonderland’s most powerful mages. And a crown Prince… with servants and castles and-

“You do realize that Malleus is like a GIANT kid right? I mean, yeah he’s some super powerful wizard-”

“Mage!”

“...whatever. He’s an absolute beast when it comes to magic and whatnot, but he’s got this whole ‘homeschooled only child’ vibe going on and honestly? It’s a little pathetic, in a cute stray way.”

Ruggie didn’t really know how to feel about his partner’s revelation. On one hand, he knew they were just friends and had befriended each other longer before Yuu realized Malleus’ status. That didn’t necessarily make it any easier to cover up the inherent inferiority or the slight unsettling fear. Good thing they didn’t feel the usual pressure of this world’s social ladder… but that doesn’t mean they won’t start worrying if he stayed lost in thought for too long.

“.......what was your world like for you to turn out so weird?”

“Hey!”

Ruggie continued to laugh, but it came out a little bit strained. Yuu finally glanced up in order to catch a glimpse of their boyfriend’s adorable pout. His lightly scrunched eyebrows and the way his ears seemed to fold-in on themselves made him look like a grumpy puppy. Absurdly cute, but clearly bothered, and they both had had such a long day t wouldn’t be right not to cheer him back up!

“Oh, c’mere!” the Perfect said through teasing giggles as they flipped Ruggie over to switch positions.

Rugs was currently (and quite contently) snuggled face first into his lover's chest; enjoying the sound of their heartbeat along with the comfortable extra cushioning. His arms reached slightly down to wrap around their waist snuggly as the two pairs of legs naturally crisscrossed at the joints. The moment he fully relaxed was when Yuu started to softly pet his bushy hair and scratch along the base of his ears.

Pure Heaven.

“Were you getting grumpy because I kept mentioning Leona and Malleus?” the Perfect lovingly taunted now that he was trapped and attacked (with euphoric head scratches) in his weak spot. Truly, an idiots mirage of paradise.

“C’mon Sweet Cheeks! Ya Couldn’t’ve least let me keep my pride?” Rugs whined, quickly going back to frowning deeply but unable to hold it for long. There was no chance in all of Twisted Wonderland he could stay “upset” while his precious Dandelion Fluff’s fingers softly caressed his sensitive ears. At least he could cover-up the way he melted, burying himself further into their figure. Luckily, Yuu was already squeezing him closure with a burst of affection,

“Don’t worry, my silly Hyena, the only one I was focused on today was you. The only one I wanted to spend time with was you. And the only person I think of from dawn till dusk, and dream about the whole night through, will always be you, Ruggie Bucchi.” Yuu declared playfully, then slowly breathlessly serious with a sappy amount of affection as they watched Ruggie's tail wave faster and faster.

“Shee shee shee,” Rugs bashfully replied, “where did all that come from outta nowhere?”

Yuu wistfully sighed, “I guess I’m just in a sentimental mood.”

The two shared some playful hushed whispers until Ruggie had to turn his head to hide a yawn. His attempt was futile however, as Yuu caught it–but instead of teasing him over it they simply snuggled him closer and quietly sang an old, sweet crooner love song from their home world. Despite the long day, it felt blissfully short as the two peacefully drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 1 year ago

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bc im bored and bc i wanna see ppl rant about their ocs

i order you to rant abt ur rottmnt oc, gimme every single detail, just let it all out and have fun

OMG I've been waiting for an ask like this!!! LOL I HAVE IT ALL WRITTEN DOWN AND EVERYTHING 💀😭🙏 TYSM ^^

Tamsin is 15 years old all through season 1, 16 in season two, and 17 in the movie! While most moments with her via future, she ranges from 21-42.

Tamsin is super laid back and kinda has that Surfer dude attitude some of the older iterations of the guys had, but she's also super outgoing and ready for anything, wether it be a dance party, or a girls day out with April going mall shopping... Or fighting a bunch of Foot Clan soldiers and going on a car chase after Warren and Hypno.

Unlike her poor gal-pal, April, Tamsin has a job! While it's not the greatest, little pay, and maybe a bit rat infested, she's glad she has it. She works at a 60s themes burger joint, you know the kind with roller-skating waiters and waitresses? Yep, that's Tams. Speaking of which, she is very skilled in skating! It's one of the things she uses when keeping up with Badguys or the Turtles.

While Tamsin seems super chill, she does have this... Competitive side...

You see, she's a people pleaser - always has been since it's what she seeks from her mother and father desperately.

Her whole life she'd spend trying to seek the approval and attention of her parents, whether it be learning the piano or joint the swim team- Tamsins grown up involved in MANY things - specifically sports.

Tamsin plays baseball, basketball, tennis, softball, she's still on the swim team, and she does track, karate, and hockey.

Is she good at all of these... Depends. Does she have that scary competitive spirit that somehow makes her survive through all of these?- defitnely yes.

There is one thing that Tamsin finds herself quite good at and definitely has her eyes set out on achieving moreover in life, and that's boxing/the wrestling team.

Tamsin is a grade A rough houser who likes the thrill and easy blowing off steam exercise that is these two sports give her- and she's pretty good at it with her brute force and just ready to throw hands whenever wherever.

So yeah, you can either have a Sweet hearted, completely chilled out Tamsin. Or you can decide to invite her to some late night basketball and get a basketball to the head at least twelve times - whether on accident or on purpose. (Sorry Raph-)

Tamsin's Role In TMNT

Her role in every iteration is the one behind the camera for our one and only April O'Neil. She's her right hand in all the reports and stories April can get her hands on.

I was kinda sad we didn't get to see (or rarely saw if you consider the movie) was Rise April and her classic News Reporter role we mostly got through the iterations, but they also made her a teen still in highschool. And it got my thinking... What's something that can keep people updated or have a good gossip, but anyone of any age can do?

A podcast/YouTube videos!

And who better to help the girl out than Tamsin as the video recorder and editor!

While thinking about this too, I also noticed that in highschool, April wasn't exactly 'popular' but she wasn't like- a person people hated or shitted on, she was just kinda there, maybe a bit invisible.

So I feel the same would be for Tamsin, which is why they stick together most of the time, so their channel only had up to 2 subscribers (note, one of those subs is Tam herself)

How she met the guys

So how I feel a Rise episode would play out is Tamsin and April just finished up a little video, April being just a bit down about it, knowing they won't get as much attention on it as she likes. Tamsin tries cheering her up with an idea to go out for a bite and maybe some karaoke or something else fun.

April overall agrees, letting the two set off on a late night adventure.

One thing April kinda forgot was that she's, you know, quite a target for some of the sudden odd dangers of New York given the group of certain friends she hands out with, and it ends up with her, and a very afraid/confused Tamsin getting caught by the Foot Clan.

Of course, after some silly goofy ahh banter, four shadowy figures come to save them. April knows who it is obviously and is very relieved... Tamsin, however...

These are four tall, big, green monsters that just took down an entire freaking army of weird ass cultists, and from where she's looking, attacking her friend (group hug)

So against better judgment, a good five minutes are spent of April trying to pry a metal pipe out of Tamsins' hands as she tries to attack Leo.

A moment it's taken to explain and introduce everyone, and Tamsin is slightly put to ease, willing to give these four supposed turtles benefit of the doubt.

And hopefully to the end of the episode, April is talking to Donnie, he's explaining how he found quite inconvenient that she and her little friend were in peril just as he was in the middle kf watching their latest YouTube video.

#cherry rambles #cherry answers #ask #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒#rottmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt x oc #rise of the tmnt #🍊💜#tamsitello

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auxiliarydetective · 1 year ago

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The OC Halloween Challenge - Day 11

You can find the challenge here!

Today's prompt was...

The Killer

They’re haunted and bloodthirsty, compelling in a dangerous way. Everyone has a monster within but due to some tragic backstory of abuse, hate, or ridicule, these people – or things– let the monster win. Whether they done a mask or turn your dreams into sentient nightmares, they’re the main reason why anybody shows up to movie night. Which one of your ocs looks into the reflection of the knife in their hand, and pictures themselves chopping up human bodies instead of vegetables?

First of all, R.I.P. to the killer's victims, potential killers in their own right who had to give their final bow to the one murderer to rule them all:

Philomel, who kills out of love

Honey Penelope, the silent terror who has finally snapped

Charlotte Inari, who turns killing into a child's game

And now, the blood-bathed master...

Akaito Coraline!

Zoro sat down at the bar. He had been marching through nothingness all day and desperately needed a drink.

"Waiter, a beer, please," he said lowly and was quickly served.

At the table closest to the bar sat a group of four men. One had a gun attached to his belt, another carried an axe, a third rested a longsword against his leg, and the last had a set of daggers strapped to his chest and back. They were having an intense conversation as the axe guy told a story. Zoro wasn't really interested in anything they had to say, but he picked up bits and pieces. Something about bounty hunting and chasing a pirate crew across an island. The axe man had just reached his dramatic finish, boasting about how he had almost caught up to the crew and been about to bludgeon their brains with his weapon.

"But you didn't get 'em," longsword guy concluded with a chuckle. He took a sip of his drink.

"I did!"

"But you only got half the captain's bounty?" The gunslinger scoffed. "Come on, what happened?"

"Let me guess," the dagger man threw in, "someone got him before you did? Was it Roronoa Zoro, the demon?"

"No, she was worse," the storyteller said in a hiss. "Anyone who calls him a demon hasn't met her yet."

Now, they had Zoro's attention. He eyed them descreetly, listening closely.

"She appeared out of nowhere. Damn fast, almost impossible to see. I only knew she was there when one of the pirates screamed. The next one was dead before the first one had even finished dropping to the floor. She mowed through the crowd like a devil until there was nobody left standing. Ten people, in a matter of seconds. And then she looked at me. She would've killed me too if I hadn't promised her half the bounty. But she wanted more. She wanted the captain's blood. For her collection, she said. Then, I noticed the needle pierced through her ear."

"No way!" the gunslinger gasped. "An Akaito?!"

"At least she claimed that, yeah. And you haven't even heard the worst: She uses the blood she gathers from her victims to dye her fabrics. That's why they're so fucking expensive. They're made with blood."

Zoro turned away with an annoyed scoff. That couldn't be true. Right?

#ohc2023 #one piece #one piece live action #oc: akaito coraline #one piece oc #fanfiction

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twisted-funderland · 2 years ago

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Octavinelle OC Fun Facts

-All of them are mermaids

-Morgan is Azul's younger brother. They got along as kids, but not so much anymore.

-Tuck claims that he used to be much bigger and stronger, but he got cursed into his current small form. Nobody knows if this is the truth or not.

-If someone annoys him Claude will turn a personal object of theirs invisible and watch them endlessly search for it.

-Derek prefers not to speak most of the time. When he does speak it's usually an insult.

-They all work in Mostro Lounge. Morgan is a host. Tuck and Claude are both servers. Derek works in the kitchen.

-Morgan is very proud that he is an excellent flyer with natural talent, despite living the ocean his whole life.

-Tuck joined the Science club in hopes of finding a cure for his curse. He gets taken to the infirmary more often than others due to drinking random potions.

-The first time Claude heard somebody playing a trumpet he instantly hated the sound and decided it was his least favorite.

-Derek used to be a waiter, however Azul moved him to the kitchen staff because he kept insulting the customers.

-Morgan and Tuck were getting chased by the Leech twins when they saw the Rays and hid under the bench they were on. Claude and Derek didn't rat them out and eventually the Leech twins left. On that day Morgan declared that the two are instantly friends with him and Tuck. Claude and Derek just went along with it.

-They all do nice things for each other, even when they don't say nice things. Morgan lets Derek practice nail art on him. Derek will help Tuck reach things on high shelves. Tuck will give Claude random seashells because he knows the Ray likes them. Claude knits stuffed animals for Morgan and leaves them in his dorm room.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted funderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland original character #twst oc #twst original character #twst wonderland #twisted oc #Morgan Ashengrotto #Tuck Current #Claude Ray #Derek Ray #octavinelle

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ruvviks · 1 year ago

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🖋 + one u haven’t done yet 👀

oc asks!

eren is the latest addition to the cyberponk blorboverse >:^) i'm sorry i keep adding new guys but it's so much FUN OK and he's just some guy this time. small addition to cassidy's story but adds so much flavor and i love him

eren is a waiter at a diner in the glen, one that seb and cassidy visit a lot! he was born outside the nusa and moved there when he was 14 years old, and he didn't have a lot of friends because his family kept moving around for different job offers for his parents. he ended up in night city when he was 18 and he was still some years in high school at that point because of the constant moving, and understandably so did not want to go study more when he was finally done three years later

he ended up moving out, getting his license, got a nice little job and had everything sorted out for himself basically, until at some point he got in a car accident caused by a police chase. ncpd vehicle rammed him into the guardrail and he and the car toppled over and he ended up needing eye surgery following the crash, which left him with visible cyberware around his right eye despite never even wanting cyberware in the first place :(

however, the accident made him VERY nervous about something like that happening again and he got additional cyberware (lining and plating mostly) installed around his face and on his temples, kind of as like. extra protection for his skull basically SGHJFDGKDF and it works!! but also it was mostly an out of fear decision and not really something he actively wanted. but he's grown attached to it now :) it looks very good on him

he's now moved back to his parents' home and helps them with taking care of his younger sister who's disabled and because of that can't live on her own. he loves his job at the diner and it's within walking distance so he never has to drive ever again and he's very much hoping to keep it that way forever and ever

he mostly becomes relevant in the story because he ends up being interested in cassidy who also has a little crush on him for a while. they go on a single date together but both immediately realize it's not gonna work out mainly because cassidy is just very deeply in love with someone else and is just trying to figure out what he's feeling. they DO however keep contact and become very good friends and eren often hangs out with cassidy :D he knows about cassidy's life as a mercenary and mostly just stays out of that because he's not a fighter at all but he does genuinely enjoy hanging out with him and all his other friends as long as it's just. to watch a movie or something like that SGKFDKGDFJG

eren is a very cheery guy, incredibly witty, always knows exactly what to say to cheer people up. in general very distrusting of cops and gangs alike and doesn't like being in traffic at all so he spends as little time as possible outside. he Does like going to the park though :) there's more parks in the night city in my brain than in the one in-game. he often takes his sister there :D

#asks #mutuals #faarkas #ask:eren #oc asks #guy of all time he's really just some guy huh. but he does really enjoy seeing everyone around #the diner he works at isn't all that popular but that's even better because that means it's always nice and quiet in there #cassidy comes to visit a LOT and often takes a bunch of friends with him so eren sees them all several times a week :D

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brokenhcrt · 6 months ago

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PINNED POST!

indie sideblog for my fandomless ocs. this blog is 21+, and my partners are to also be 21+. mun is 27

follows from: drummerdaines

low / sporadic activity. default muse is MADDOX LAKE if no muse is stated. opens memes navigation

maddox lake, model & bridesmade for hire, 25, sabrina carpenter | witch, bisexual phoenix hastner, receoptionist for a law firm, 25, joe keery, gay storm simms, lead guitarist & writer for vulgar crown, 22 - 29, joe quinn, pansexual theodora winifred, jobless, 140 ( immortal ), grace van dien, bisexual ashlee georgia, job tba, 25, miles robins | ghost human hybrid, bisexual mylene baines, librian, 48, leigh anne pinnock ( main ) | demon,bisexual sky carpenter, telemarketer, 50, mackenyu ( main ) | demon, bisexual whitney gibbs, horror com youtuber / gamer / twitch streamer, 25, adeline rudolph, bisexual tiffany 'tink' bell, retail worker, 26, katherine mcnamara, pansexual bianca winters, ice rink employee, 26. courtney eaton | winter spirit, pansexual harlow beaumont, ex childstar, waiter, 24 ( subjected to change ), charlie gillespie bisexual alexander wright jr, mechanic, 25 ( subjected to change ), jeremy shada, bisexual lavender henderson, lead singer of unholy martyr, 27, karen fukuhara bisexual mary castro, guitarist for unholy martyr, 26, camilla mendes lesbian

mun uses animated icons for ooc posts

blogroll:

drummerdaines ( oc drummer for a heavy metal band ; FOLLOWS FROM HERE )

piecedpirates ( mumu one piece ; main prioity / fixation )

wiildhcartsrun ( resource / writing blog )

hollowkidds ( ma.yahart & fark.leminkus )

rules:

basics

21+ for rp partners. this is a sideblog so follows will come from drummerdaines, who is a muse linked with storm

once sm.ut starts to happen, icons / gifs will be dropped out of respect for those who created the ones i use, a banner will be used in it's place , this made by cafekitsune

nsfw comes in many forms and i welcome all types as i do like my horror

blog runs on a queue & is low priorty ; i mainly work with muse instead of trying to force it

i am open to writing on discord, and have many more muses avalaible there too, including canon characters

will give out my discord to those intersted in it

due running three other blogs, i will be putting focus onto replies for here on saturdays and sundays. with piecedpirates getting most of my attention during the week though of course if something is giving me dopamine, i will chase that

will not

ship with muses under 18, prefered to not interact with muses under 18

ship minor x adult, incest ( inlcuding foster, adoptive & step )

write with characters like the grabber or pennywise

banned faces are: the dead, abusers, john.nydeep, amb.erheard, no.ahschnapp, chi.naannemc.lain, tay.lorswit, jos.huabassett

specfic bans, these fc aren't banned overall, i just wont engage in a romantic / shippy plot with: bar.rykeoghan fc with maddox and jose.phquinn fc with theo, gracevandien fc with storm. sorry h3llch33r fans ruined this for me

write with people writing real people, including wwe stars as their 'characters'

#pinned post.#dni.

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firstaidspray · 10 months ago

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Birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets - Day 19

To celebrate Valentine's month as well as my birthday month, I'm going to post a snippet of Revchase every day until my birthday, using these prompts- there are 25 so it leads right up to my birthday!! Here is day 19, which has to do with that poll I put up yesterday lol.

19- Write about your ship going on a casual date.

Pairing: Robert Chase/Reverie (oc)

Media: House MD

Word Count: 875

Rating: M (just in case it's only suggestive but yknow)

CW: Suggestive situation and dialogue

Some may argue that eating at the hospital cafeteria after their shifts end is a date. Some may argue that it is not. Reverie and Chase are the type to have this argument, because they have spent many times at the end of their shift at the hospital cafeteria, and each time, it's a conflict as to what exactly this ritual should be called.

“It's a date,” Reverie says, gesturing to the table where only they are seated. “It's the two of us alone, sitting at a table eating, hanging out and talking. We're dating. So it's a date.”

Chase scoffs. “Just because we are dating doesn't mean this is a date, Rev. If you think this is a date, I need to take you out more. I'll take you surfing this weekend.”

Reverie crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “Just because we're dating doesn't make that a date,” she mocks him. “It's surfing together. If that's a date, so is this.”

“I'll get someone to agree with me,” Chase says, taking a sip of his soda. “Alright. If this is a date, we're going to make date small talk. How was your day, luv?”

She smirks. “It was very productive. I assisted with a particularly touch-and-go lung transplant. And you?”

“Really? Surgery is date talk to you?” Chase laughs, smiling that pretty smile of his. It makes Reverie blush.

“Yes. Now tell me about your day,” she asks, pointing at him.

Chase sighs. “Okay, we're still playing this game. Well, House got a patient that has a mysterious rash. Sent me and Park to his house, found some perfume. First, we thought the rash was from the perfume, and shocker, it wasn't. We're running some tests overnight. Tomorrow we'll know more. Now, Rev, was that really a good date conversation?”

She playfully bites her straw. “Yes, it was. Now, can I say that you look very sexy tonight? On this date?”

He scoffs and looks down at his clothes– he had no time to change back into his street clothes, so he still has on his scrubs and the grey undershirt pushed up to his elbows.

“It's so cute to me that you think this, of all things, is sexy,” Chase laughs, gesturing to himself.

Reverie continues to bite her straw and twirl her hair around her finger. “Well, you look good in scrubs. What can I say? Scrubs, wetsuits, your leather jacket, your white coat…all sexy.”

Chase smiles and actually blushes at this. “Please. You wear scrubs better than me. And wetsuits. And the times you've stolen my jackets, you looked pretty hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” she says with a click of her tongue. “Is this proper date talk?”

He shrugs. “Better than before. But you'll have to do a little more than that to convince me this is a date.”

Reverie narrows her eyes. “Fine then.”

In a stroke of possible luck, she spots Wilson walking through the cafeteria. She smirks as she gets an idea, then whistles at him.

“Oi! Wilson! C'mere!” She calls.

Wilson walks over, his thick eyebrows knit in confusion. “What's wrong?”

“Why do you assume something is wrong, waiter?” Reverie asks playfully. “My date and I will have two ice cream sandwiches, please.”

Catching on to what game Reverie is playing, Wilson laughs. “And you'll pay me back for that?”

“Yes, just go along with it!” Reverie Hisses.

“Okay,” Wilson says, heading to the counter. He returns a while later and hands them their dessert. “Two ice cream sandwiches for the lovely couple.”

Chase sighs and rolls his eyes. “Wilson, you don't seriously believe this counts as a date, do you?”

Both he and Reverie's eyes widen when Chase catches Reverie giving him the change for the desserts. But both return to the little game, and Wilson sighs.

“I'm not here to get in the middle of your date,” he says, “just to provide your dessert as a waiter. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Chase groans and Reverie waves him off. “No, that will be all. Thank you.”

Wilson shrugs and leaves the table, and Chase unwraps his ice cream sandwich.

“Might as well eat this, not let our “dessert” go to waste,” Chase says as he takes a bite. “These are actually really good, for hospital cafeteria food.”

Reverie nods as she bites into her own. “Yep. ‘Cause they're meant for dates.”

He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, you're still on that?”

She sighs and pouts. “What can I do to convince you this is a date, luv?”

“That's for you to figure out,” he responds, biting into his dessert.

Reverie shrugs. “Okay. Call it a date, and I'll make it worth your while.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He feels something under the table and looks over at Reverie, smiling innocently as she reaches under. Chase's face lights up pink and he swallows nervously.

“Okay, okay, it's a date, it's a date, this has been a date!”

Reverie nods. “That's what I thought you'd say. Wanna finish this “date” at home?”

Chase nods furiously. “Yes, oh my God, yes. Go get in the car.”

“Yes sir,” she replies playfully, standing up and heading for the door.

#birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets #reverie #revchase #my writing #x: gee angel

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yuzukult · 3 years ago

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for write it & weep! jaehyun + fake dating + #36

title: your cherry lip gloss pairing: jaehyun x oc genre: angst, fake dating, unrequited love, best friends wc: 1945 quote: “can you just pretend? for me?” warnings: profanity, unhappy ending a/n: sorry for the delay!! and also,, sorry if this wasn't what you were hoping for HELP, i went for the angst route instead of an angst one ;n;

He’s got a smile that you’d die for.

It’s a bit corny to quote an old Jonas Brothers lyric, but something about their older songs just reach into your heart and steal the words you’ve been having a hard time searching to say. Every time you look at him, your mouth goes dry, your chest tightens, and your stomach flutters. How could just looking at someone so beautiful have the impact of Medusa’s stare? You’re locked, turned to stone, and unsure how to get out of this stance.

“Well?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts. “Can you just pretend? For me?”

If you say yes, you’ll know how it feels to be his girlfriend. You’ll finally get a glimpse into the world of being loved by him, and you'll get to live the dream of feeling his hands in yours. A kiss seems doubtful, but you’ll take the little things if it means you got a chance to know how it is to be his.

Yet at the same time, everything wouldn’t be real.

Although that didn’t seem to be a problem at the time despite you running your fingers through your hair and sighing deeply in contemplation. Eyes closed, you let yourself fully sink into the dilemma you’re in: You’re going to be Jaehyun’s fake girlfriend.

But when your eyes open, your gaze meets with the pretty boy who sits across from you at this café. Ice americano in front of him, the outside of the cup dripping in condensation, it remains untouched because he’s been anxious about your answer the entire time.

“I’ll do it.”

It was a mistake.

It was a mistake because he looks sweet. He’s charming, handsome, and nearly has you stumbling over your own toes when you’re so caught up on him. It’s supposed to remain platonic, despite the situation he put you in, but being his fake girlfriend only makes you wish this was real.

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” the gorgeous woman in front of you says through her gritted, strangely overly white and straightened teeth. She seems angry, and the way she crosses her arms over her chest aggressively gives it away. Least she looks pretty in that strapless lavender dress, right? “Especially her. Why would you hide that from me, Jaehyun? I thought you said you guys were just friends.”

Jaehyun looks anxious but at the same time you notice the familiar glimmer in his eyes. It’s the same one that appears when you look at him.

He still loves her.

“I didn’t feel like you needed to know, especially since you’re engaged now. Plus, I can do as I please, without your permission. Now if you excuse me, we’re going to enjoy my sister’s wedding.”

He’s hurt. You could feel it in the way he tightens his grip on your hand for a brief moment, and when you see his jaw tensing, it only clutches your heart instead.

When you agreed to be his date to his sister’s wedding, to pretend to be his girlfriend, you didn’t know it would come to this. You knew that his ex-girlfriend would be here, and she’d be flaunting her new shimmering engagement ring that adorns her finger—it’s why he asked you here in the first place. But you’ll never understand how someone as great as him was still infatuated with a girl like that. Sure, she was beautiful, but the hideous beast inside of her wasn’t something worth chasing for.

He pulls you aside, stealing a drink off the tray from one of the waiters and doesn’t hesitate to down a fourth of a glass of whiskey. It’s bitter on his tongue, but goes down with ease, even if the initial taste had a little sting. Anything is better than how she made him feel.

“Are you okay?” You eventually ask. Adjusting your stance in those black heels you’d save for special occasions, you’d hope he would notice how pretty you looked tonight in this black slip dress of yours—it wasn’t tight and as revealing as hers but in your wildest fantasies, he’d see you and fall for you instead.

“How could she want to break up, move on, and expect me not to?” Jaehyun snarls, agitated at the meeting with his ex. He doesn’t let it go, and you wonder if he’ll ever let go of her. “I bring a date, but she makes it sound like I’m not allowed to. Why is she allowed to find someone else but I can’t?”

“She’s not that great,” you blurt, and for the first time that night, he looks at you.

It’s not that movie-like moment where the world around the two of you stops, where his eyes would finally hint that love you always dreamed to find, and he’s not stunned by your beauty nor his realization that he’s been in love with you this entire time.

He’s annoyed, angry, even.

“How could you say that about her?”

You scoff. “How could you not? She’s terrible. Led you on for years, and when you finally dated, she kept hurting you. You found her cheating on you in college with your fucking teammate, for god’s sake. She probably fucked your entire football team.”

Jaehyun furrows his brows. “They were mistakes. She was lost—she didn’t mean to do that—”

“Stop defending someone who doesn’t need it, nor wants it for that matter,” you exasperate, letting out a heavy breath before rubbing your forehead in distress. “You know what—I’m going to leave. I should’ve known this was a mistake from the beginning, I shouldn’t have come—”

Jaehyun reaches over to grab your wrist. “Don’t go. Why are you leaving? We’re just having a little disagreement.”

The fronts of your brows dip in disbelief. “Not to be such a party pooper, but it has never been about this little disagreement we have over that.”

“I keep telling you, she’s amazing. Deep down, past all those things she did to hurt me, she’s great. She’s smart, funny, kind—”

“This is what I’m talking about.”

Luckily enough, the two of you were far out enough in a secluded area where people couldn’t hear. The crowd is far, but you can see Jaehyun’s sister at the reception, greeting family and friends as they enter the venue. The wedding hasn’t even started yet and you’re already backing out. Part of you wishes that one day, it could’ve been the two of you there. Exchanging your vows, laughing luminously while sharing stories how best friends could potentially become lovers. But it wasn’t like that, and clichés seem to remain in the romcom movies for a reason.

This weekend was full of moments that felt too real. From when he first introduced you to his parents as his girlfriend, and the brightened expressions on their faces. And his sister, when she gave you that talk in the kitchen a few nights before as you both shared the task of washing the dishes, letting you know that his past shouldn’t haunt him anymore. Or when his grandparents held your hands eagerly, hoping that one day, it would be you with a ring on your finger that Jaehyun would have given.

But those things are just delusions. He made it clear that he’s not over his past, and evidently won’t ever see you in that light.

He tilts his head. “What are you talking about?”

“That you’ve been talking about your ex-girlfriend in a way that I wished you talked about me in. How you look at her with that sparkle in your eyes like she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen and I’ve been standing here by your side the entire time. I’ve been trying to mend your heart every time she breaks it, and hoping that one day, as I’m picking up the pieces and hurting myself in the process, you’d see me.”

His expression softens, and he loosens his grip on your wrist to reach out to touch your shoulder comfortingly, only for you to take a step back. “But you’re my best friend.”

“And as your best friend, I’ve mustered all the courage I could to help you heal from the wounds she caused. Fuck, Jaehyun, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” And with a deep breath, you let it out in ease slowly. “I’m in love with you, Jaehyun.”

“I’m not—I don’t know what to say,” he admits, a little too truthfully. “I’ve never considered you in that way before.”

With a forced smile, you nod in confirmation.

You don’t hate him, you could never. He’s the guy you’ve been in love with for so many years, but it’s time to be selfish for once and do things for you. You can’t become the girl who sits around for decades just to wait for him to notice you’ve been here all along. You have too much self respect for that.

“Don’t go,” he calls out softly. “You’re my best friend, don’t leave.”

“Please don’t tell me that if you’re not in love with me enough to ask me to stay.”

He’s hesitant, but he finally releases his hold on you and you could feel the weight off your chest and shoulders lighten.

“I’m just going to stay long enough for them to exchange their vowels. I’ll leave after, send my respects, and grab my stuff from your room. I’m going to head back home to the city, and we could just… forget this ever happened. I’ll go my own way.”

And just like that, as he watches your silhouette go through the crowds, he feels a different kind of pain that goes through his heart.

It feels like a piercing instead of a clenching, worse than what it’s like when he caught his ex-girlfriend sleeping with his teammate in college. You weren’t some girl he dated, and the love he had for you wasn’t like the one he had for his ex-girlfriend. He felt hurt when she walked away but you made him feel like part of him was missing the moment you said goodbye.

Which begs the question: did he love you? Could he ever love you?

You were right when you said he missed the opportunity to come to the realization that he’d been in love with you this entire time. He’d been so caught up in his feelings for his ex, he didn’t notice how pretty you looked underneath these lights. How your cherry tinted lips shined from the reflection on your gloss, how your lashes brushed against the highs of your cheeks, and how melodious your laugh was when you exchanged words with his sister. His ex was gorgeous, but you were a different kind of gorgeous.

Breathtakingly.

You were there—right under his nose and he’s wondering if he lost his chances with you. He doesn’t know if he could love you like he loved his ex-girlfriend, but what he’s slowly realizing is that he doesn’t hate the idea of becoming in love with you. You make him laugh, you’re honest with him, and you challenge him to do things that’ll make him a better version of himself. You’re understanding, you take care of him, and even when he’s at his worst, you’re still there.

Have you always been this… stunning?

Was the chance of him ever falling in love with you thinning because he’d been so blinded by his ex?

When you tuck your hair behind your ear, turn to pose for a photo with his sister, his breath gets caught in his throat.

Maybe he’s been in love with you all along but he was too distracted to see it.

Was it too late?

#jaehyun #jaehyun fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun fanfic

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tommydoesntpayforsuits · 3 years ago

Text

Among the Whisperings and the Champagne and the Stars

Summary: Ella goes to one of Mr. Shelby's famous Poughkeepsie parties. Safe to say she's not enjoying herself. Someone turns the night around.

Word Count: 5491 words

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Warnings: season 3 spoilers, sex references, drinking, fluff, unbetad.

Author’s Note: I really love these little celebrations Sophie does, they’re so nice and they bring the community together. I chose The Great Gatsby. I made Tommy a little bit more cheeky for no particular reason. He’s obviously not always like that, but I imagine that, like Gatsby, he would have to act a little charismatic.

I tried imitating F. Scott Fitzgerald’s style, but I think I failed miserably. Which is actually embarrassing, because I had to study his entire writing style for a year.

Posting this before I lose my mind editing.

MASTERLIST

Tommy Shelby SFW Taglist

“Do you think we’ll meet him?”

Clutching Sarah's hand, I helped her out of the cab. She had on the tallest heels I’ve ever seen, and goddamn her for it. Now I have to steer her around. If she could walk by herself, I wouldn’t care what she wore.

I rolled my eyes. “Who cares?!”

Sarah hadn’t stopped talking incessantly about the mysterious Mr. Shelby. How he was so rich, how handsome he was rumoured to be, how he donates so much for charity. I did wonder where she got all this information from, but Sarah is probably connected to some grape vine somewhere. At this point, I felt like I knew more about Mr. Shelby than Mr. Shelby himself.

“—And, supposedly, he was a spy in the war!” she added, leaning in conspiratorially as if it was some grand secret.

“Really?” I rose a sceptical brow. “And who did you hear this from?”

Sarah ignored me, and gasped. “Oh, my God…” Her eyes grew wide.

I followed her eyeline— and my jaw went slack.

Tall fountains in manicured gardens with cobblestoned pathways lead to a beautiful, modern mansion. A palace. With high towers, gold adornments and decorative vines clinging to stone walls— putting Buckingham to shame. Outside was relatively quiet, only a few people keeping out of the way. But the doorway shone like gold, music drawing us in, the beat thumping like a heart beat. The night was alive, and it was calling.

Sarah and I gaped at each other, starry-eyed. With a squeal, we scuttled inside, gripping each other’s hands and ignoring the curious stares of the loiterers, skirts billowing after us and heels clicking clumsily through the dark.

Inside was bouncing with energy and excitement. The arch doorway led to an unlit hallway, packed with people drinking and chatting boisterously. Through there opened a grand, luscious ballroom— completely paved with marble floors, high walls held up by golden pillars, the ceiling painted with swirling gold patterns. Round tables with white table cloths were stationed around the first half of the room, leaving space for dancing. There was a gold-adorned staircase where men chased giggling women up and down like teasing children. At the very top, a gentleman popped a bottle of champagne so loudly, everyone’s heads whipped to look. He roared as he sprayed it, hands dripping with foam. A few ladies around him laughed as they got soaked, defending themselves with their arms. Only a couple moved away, but one moved closer and deliberately standing in the way and opening her mouth. He directed the spray to her mouth, and she stuck her tongue out as if she was catching snowflakes.

On the other side of the hall, there was a jazz band performing. The saxophonist had a solo at that moment. I gasped as he made the most amazing trills, baffled by his talent, before the trumpeter cut in to flex his own moves. Handsome waiters sped around the room, balancing trays of drinks and cigars and snacks. One of them brushed past Sara, giving her a generous eye and slanted smirk. Her eyes followed him, evidently spellbound.

We took everything in with such wonder and astonishment. Sarah would have surely tripped and fallen on her face had she not be clinging to my arm. Not that I could talk, I was behaving like an idiot myself. It’s one thing to see it in the newspapers and hear of past visitors fantastical tales, but to be standing before it, to behold all this wealth, all this luxury— it was a spectacle one surely wasn’t to miss.

My cheeks began to ache from my wide grin.

Sarah looked back at me, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Let’s have some fun.”

Fifteen minutes into dancing, Sarah had vanished with nothing more than a “Don’t wait for me.” Dragging the very same waiter down a hidden corridor by his wrist— what they do is between them and God alone. I wondered momentarily if Mr. Shelby would be blessing us with his presence this evening. From what I’d heard around the mill, he didn’t attend his own parties— which would lead one to question why he’s even hosting them in the first place. Why would anyone subject themselves — every weekend, might I add — to strangers waltzing into his house to eat him out of house and home, and to perform lewd acts in shadowed corners, only for him to not benefit the pleasure of their company? I rarely have any parties even on holidays, solely because it’s so much work. Though, I suppose a man who sits in these types of luxuries wouldn’t be cleaning after himself.

As a curious stranger standing in a shadowed corner of my own, sipping my drink, I felt like the most boring person in the room (which, I probably was).

Why was I here? Sarah was gone— well, surely I should wait for her, even though she insisted I didn’t. Although, I would never advise anyone to defy Sarah’s orders. Besides, she’d only been gone twenty minutes, and I imagine she hasn’t finished her– I choked on my drink— activities.

Sarah did this regularly, and every time I fell for it— like the idiot I was. She demands I go to this party, or festival, or whatever of the like, with her; and then proceeds to leave me, in a room full of people, whilst she goes off with some man or some woman (or sometimes both). I’ve tried to confront her about it, but she’s only insisted that I need to just mingle amongst the crowds alone (“You know, crawl out of your shell, a little!”).

I liked my shell. I don’t mind if Sarah wanted to have adventures of her own, but I just didn’t understand why she had to drag me with her, why she had to ignore me standing my ground because I knew how the night was going to end. For some reason, I always seem to forget how much I hate going to these things whenever she begs me.

I leaned against the wall, nestling against a pillar for my only company. Maybe I should just go home, this clearly isn’t for me. Just get into my pyjamas and read that book I was trying to get through earlier. Maybe open a bottle of wine.

A curious, almost wet sound caught my attention, followed by what appeared to be heavy breathing. I craned my head to a dark, empty hallway, where there were two dark figures. At the sight of one of them lowering themselves to their knees. For a moment, I thought that I was watching a proposal. Only when I heard what was unmistakeably a moan, did I realise what was happening.

A gasp caught in my throat. I pushed away from the pillar and rushed away before I knew where I was off to. Whatever enchantment this place put on me, the magic had long worn off.

Once the cold, fresh air hit my skin. It was stuffy and suffocating in there. My head was pounding so hard from the music and my flesh was crawling with disgust. The cold air reached my lungs. I shivered the tenseness away.

Of all the things to witness, that wasn’t what I was expecting. This undoubtedly happened in the other parties Sarah dragged me to, but I never saw it myself. I was either extremely lucky or the couples went about their business privately. Honestly, I’m surprised I went this long without seeing something like that.

I rushed down the steps, unsure where I was already. The Shelby gardens were large and abstract, almost like a labyrinth. Wandering through it, I found the deeper I went, the fewer people I found— so I went deeper. I couldn’t ignore the growing anger in my stomach with every step. Unbelievable. I swear this is the last time I let Sarah do this— and this time I meant it. I’m not falling for her begging or her demands or her incessant picking—

“Good evening.”

I jumped, snapping out of my head. I seemed to have stepped onto a little clearing between the twists and turns in the maze. There was a man in a tuxedo, siting on a wide stone bench, alone. He was limply holding a glass of whiskey (I didn’t remember that being offered at the party) in one hand and a dimly lit cigarette in the other. I couldn’t see his face very well, the only light available were the small decorative bulbs around the gardens, but I could tell he had dark hair and pale skin.

My feet were already retreating. “Oh. I’m sorry.” I said. “I didn’t realise anyone was here.”

Before I could flee into the maze once more, the man spoke again: “It’s alright. You don’t need to leave.” His words were slightly muffled, but there was a clear midland, English accent. When I looked at him again, he pinched a cigarette from his lips. “I don’t mind the company.”

I smiled politely, wandering back to my initial spot, feet planted in the middle of the little clearing. I swallowed, eyes fluttering to every bush, every twig, every tile on the ground instead of meeting his gaze. It was too quiet. As if every forest animal that must inhabit these bushes decided to unanimously stop existing, just to toy with us. My muscles ached with tension.

The man rose to hit feet, cigarette dangling from his lips as he buttoned his suit jacket. I was grateful for the rustling. “Unless you’d prefer to be alone,” amended the same muffled voice. His eyebrows were drawn, a permanent frown surrounded was clouded by a puff of smoke.

I could see him more clearly, as he stepped into a warm glow. Smooth dark locks fell attractively over his head; cheekbones, and jaw were cut cleanly by shadows; a small button nose, that almost felt out of place, but somehow worked in his favour; lips perfectly shaped and plump. He was dressed in a tuxedo, complete with the bow tie and handkerchief. His ice-blue eyes shone like stars in the darkness. He was handsome. My goodness, was he handsome.

I’d been alone all night. Why did it have to end that way?

The man cocked an elegant brow.

“Uh,” I faltered, casting my gaze away. Not that it was of any use, he absolutely knew I was staring. “Yes— I mean no. You don’t have to go.”

His eyebrow merely quirked, but there was an atmosphere of mild amusement radiating off him. “Alright.”

A plume of smoke escaped his lips. The ice-blue eyes were fixed on me, like he was waiting for whatever trick I would do next. My feet shuffled, scuffing the ground just to make any noise possible. Not knowing what else to do, really, I sat on the bench, smoothing my dress down the back of my thighs. Still, he watched me. I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back. I regarded my shoes.

Now what? Oh, god, it was even more awkward. He must think me terribly rude, sitting without conversation, without anything to say. I should’ve taken my leave when I had the chance instead of making a right fool of myself.

Unnoticing (or unbothered) by my discomfort, he reclaimed his spot on the other end of the bench, resting his smoking arm on his knee and placing his whiskey glass between us.

We listened to the crickets gossip amongst themselves, masking the silence. The man reached into his internal breast pocket and pulled out a flask, topping up his glass. He extended the flask to me, but I waved it away.

“Headache?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just...” I huffed a long sigh.

He nodded slowly. “Overwhelming?”

“Yes,” I breathed, shoulders dropping free from tension. “I just don’t think parties are for me. Let alone these,” I gestured in the general direction of the mansion, “kind of parties.”

“Why?” he said brashly— though I sensed no rudeness from his tone, only general inquisitiveness.

I shrugged. “My friend made me come. She insisted it would be the best night of our lives.” Chuckling, I added, “Though, I think it’s the best night of her life, seeing as she ran off with a very good-looking waiter.”

“Is that so?” The corner of his mouth jumped; almost a smirk, not really. “Lucky girl.”

“Quite.”

I kicked my legs from the bench with a childish leisure, my heels swinging by my toes, catching them before they slung across the clearing. The man gulped at his whiskey.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

His voice didn’t have much intonation, sounding perpetually exhausted with a hint of irritation. I decided not to take it personally, it didn’t seem directed at me specifically.

“Ella,” I replied, with a polite smile. “Yours?”

“Tommy.” Tommy stuck his hand out.

I took it. “Hello, Tommy.”

He bowed his head, what seems to be a ghost of an unfeeling smile pulling at his mouth— more of an involuntary twitch, really. Like it was a habit he was conscious to break. The light caught in his eyes. They glittered, stunning blue shinning a brilliant gold. I couldn’t take my eyes away, my grip going limp in his hand.

He let go. I let it drop.

Clearing my throat, I found myself at a loss of what to say. But if I left now, I’d be ridiculously rude. Clasping the hem of my dress awkwardly, I attempted, “So, are you enjoying the party?”

Tommy sucked on his cigarette. “Can’t say it’s my cup of tea.”

His shoulders were tense, eyes fixed in front of him with a misplaced determination. Tommy seemed like he was only looking at me when absolutely necessary, and I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“Ah.” I nodded understandingly. “I seemed to have found the other introvert.”

As if he were reading my mind, Tommy turned his head to look at me with his staple risen eyebrow, and the same, microscopic quirk in his lips returned. He didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

“At a party,” I clarified, “there’s always at least two introverts. We rarely find each other, though.”

He exhaled a light laugh, and my ears perked with surprise. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Not sure. Maybe it’s nature. We always seem to find somewhere to hide, don’t we?” I shrugged, letting my fists relax.

He didn’t reply. I wondered if maybe I’d offended him. It would be just like me to be unable to keep my mouth shut. Tommy silently sipped at his drink. Oh, no, I must have offended him.

Sighing, annoyed at my own idiocy, I pushed myself to stand on my feet.

“I suppose you have a point. Not exactly makin’ friends in a clearin’ on me own.” He flicked a hand to nowhere in particular, indicating to nothing at all.

I relaxed in my seat. “Well, you must’ve done something to give me a reason to stay.” I flashed him a playful grin, hoping I’d lessen the moody gloom around the both of us.

He lolled his head lazily at me, staring at me with hooded eyes, eyes sparkling with a starry quality. I didn’t— couldn’t say anything else. He must’ve known something I didn’t. I met his gaze, until he looked back to his fixed spot in the distance. Embarrassment stirred in my gut; I pulled at my lip.

“Seems like us introverts had some good luck tonight.” He threw the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his toe. “What are the chances that you wander into a maze and find me here, ay?”

I looked pointedly at the litter on the concrete. “I don’t suppose the owner of the estate would much like that.”

I frowned to myself. Fuck. I let my eyes flutter closed for a moment, suppressing the urge to groan.

However, to my surprise, he smiled. Not a twitch, but more like a genuine tight-lipped one. It suited him, strangely. Somehow, that made my chest swell. He didn’t seem like a man who gave out smiles for free.

Tommy turned his head, as if searching for Mr. Shelby in the bushes. “Oh, I promise you, he doesn’t mind what I do.”

“Sorry,” I said, meekly, already feeling my cheeks heat up. “Always been a goody-two-shoes. And they’re never fun, are they?” I laughed awkwardly.

“So, why did you come?” he asked, not unkindly. “If you don’t like it?”

I snorted. “I could ask you that very same question.”

He bit his cheek, but I could tell he was trying not to smile. Nodding, Tommy said, “Touché.”

Oh, this was better. This was a lot better. Finally, Tommy, this very handsome stranger, was meeting the articulate, coherent Ella that had some semblance of control over her tongue. I flashed him my teeth quickly with a shy smile. “Where are you from?”

“Birmingham.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “That would be the accent.”

“It would,” he agreed, nodding. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m not from here,” I said quickly.

Tommy smacked his lips, raising his eyes brows as a small smirk stretched his lips. He turned his head to look at me, and there was a mild humour in his eyes. The way he looked at me— it felt like a reward.

“I can hear as much, you certainly don’t sound like an American.” His gaze was piercing. “Still didn’t answer me question.”

“My speciality,” I teased.

Tommy’s eyes sparked with a light humour about them. He looked at me like he was challenging me, so I returned the favour and challenged him right back.

Shrugged haughtily, I sung, “You started it.”

Hiding his cheeky smile, Tommy reached into his jacket, fetching a silver cigarette case and lighter and fumbling around with them as he lit his cigarette. He offered me one, but I declined.

“I have an idea.” I perked up. “How about we each ask each other a question, and the other has to answer.”

At the sight of his slow, interested nod and impish raised brows, I showed him my palm.

“Within reason.”

“Alright.” Tommy nodded. “Sounds fair. Who begins?”

“I will.” I cleared my throat. “Hmm. Let me think… Did you like Birmingham?”

He snorted. “Boring question, try again.”

“Maybe boring, but I want to know.”

Tommy stared at me pointedly. Somehow, I got the feeling he was holding back how frightening he could really look, if he wanted to. That was a good thing, because I probably would turn right around.

“It’s my question!”

He sighed, reluctantly. “Birmingham is a shithole full of poor men desperate to make a living.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you like it?”

He inhaled his cigarette. “It’s all I knew,” He blew the smoke from the corner of his mouth, away from me. “I suppose in the sense that it was a world I understood how to navigate: yes.” He looked at me for approval.

I nodded, satisfied. “Fair enough.”

“I believe it’s my turn.”

Motioning for him to continue, I leaned back on my arms. I didn’t believe he even cared about knowing anything about me, or even about playing the game. He probably only wanted to ask an equally personal question, to return the favour of me doing the same. To not be the only one who said something vulnerable. Regardless, I let him.

"What do you do?"

I sighed. It was his question, I guess. "I'm a secretary for Ashford and Sons." I shrugged, sorry I didn’t have something better to say. "Pays my rent. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. “My older brother Arthur lives in England, in the countryside. My sister Ada and my youngest brother Finn live in Boston, and my younger brother John died.”

My back straightened, and my breath caught in my throat. Fuck. Fuck. “Oh. I’m… so sorry.”

He nods. “Yes, everybody is.”

“I— I shouldn’t have asked,” I said— just when Tommy said, “It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it, love.”

I picked at my lips with nails. What do I do? I’ve made it awkward, just my luck. He tipped his head back, drinking the dregs of his glass and set it down between us with an audible clunk.

“What did you do in Birmingham?” I blurted. I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t even know if that was appropriate.

“I was a businessman,” Tommy drawled. “I owned Shelby Company Limited and I expanded here when I moved.”

“Shelby Company…” My mouth fell open. “Wait. Tommy as in...”

Tommy’s eyebrows jumped.

I gasped. “Thomas Shelby?”.

He spread his arms grandiosely, and almost welcomingly. “The very same.”

I scoffed, shocked. Through my fit of giggles, I forced, “My god— Sarah would lose her mind.”

“I would appreciate if you didn’t go announcing it. I don’t hide it, but I’m not interested in the press hounding me.”

“Of course,” I said, soberly. “Of course.” After a moment of silence, I pressed, “So. Are you really a spy?”

He grinned a beautiful, dimpled smile. I didn’t even realise he was capable of smiling like that. It suit him so well, made his eyes brighter. “Depends who you ask.”

I couldn’t help the breathy laugh that left me. “That was evasive.”

He smiled, wide and true. “My speciality.”

Several cigarette butts surrounded our feet. Speaking with Tommy was an experience in itself. At times, he was charming. With funny one liners, and cheeky smirks. Others he stared off into the distance, not answering for a few beats too long. If he wasn’t answering adequately, I would’ve thought he wasn’t listening to a single word I was saying. Some questions he answered short and quickly, with a somewhat rude tone; others he answered calmly, with thoughtful answers. I had no reason to believe he wasn’t telling the truth, which is why I found his occasional smarty behaviour forgivable. There were things he simply didn’t want to say, and I certainly wasn’t going to push him. I generally tried to avoid harmful topics like war (men nowadays can turn in a blink of an eye at simply the mention). However, there were some things I was too curious about.

“How come you throw these parties, anyway?” I asked, after a particularly successful flare of good humour.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Why does any man do anything of this degree?” He swept a lazy arm to indicate to his booming mansion. “A woman.”

My shoulders dropped slightly. I stubbed a cigarette I had finally accepted from him. “Oh. So you have a sweetheart?”

“I did. Once.” Tommy nodded. “A very long time ago.”

“What happened?” left my mouth before I had the chance to stop it. Immediately, I slapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby, you don’t have to answe—”

“It’s no trouble.” Once again, he looked at me without anger, which I think was almost the furthest he could reach to kindliness. It was obvious I pried too much, though. But Tommy didn’t seem upset. “She was rich. I was not. Simple as that.”

“Ah.” I nodded as if I understood even a semblance of wealth. “Well... you’re rich now?” I offered, unsure.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I can’t find her, see. We were planning to run away. Her parents didn’t approve of her affair with the stable boy. A couple of days before we planned to escape, she called everything off. Said she couldn’t live without her comfort. All I know is that she married some banker and moved to Poughkeepsie.” He shook his head before placing his cigarette between his lips. “Not sure why I told you that.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I pressed again. “In Poughkeepsie?”

He blew a long sigh, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Yes. I am. Came here three years ago.”

“From Birmingham?”

He nodded, nonchalantly.

My eyebrows jumped. “Wow. So soon.”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s even here anymore. I have these parties. Hoping she’ll come one night. She never does,” he clarified casually, “but there’s always… hope, I suppose.”

“Hope is a great trait to have,” I said gently. “After the war, I find no one seems to have any, anymore.”

I tested my luck. Carefully, I placed my hand directly on his. It felt a little awkward, but he didn’t move away from me, so I didn’t move either. Tommy didn't say anything for a while.

“How come you’re alone now?” He demanded, suddenly.

I blinked, startled. “I said earlier, my friend is very convincing—”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Your friend left you, yes, but that doesn’t mean you should be alone.”

Why was he so invested in why Sarah…

Oh.

“You mean…”

He rose an eyebrow.

“I see.” I pulled at my lip with fingers. “Well, I didn’t come with a fella. And I didn’t speak to anyone after Sarah left.”

“Hm. Unusual.”

Would it kill him to present any sort of feeling in his voice?

“Girls like you always have a chap on their arm.”

I huffed a laugh, eyebrows drawing together in confusion and amusement. “Girls like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” I was ready to be insulted. At least back-handedly.

Without an ounce of shame, he replied: “Pretty ones.” He gulped the rest of his whiskey.

I scoffed. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, because that was a poor attempt at flirting.”

Tommy pulled his lips into a wide, closed smile. “We persevere.”

I snickered, crossing my ankles, leaning back to gaze at the sky, full of stars. The moon nowhere in sight.

“Do you have a man?” he asked abruptly.

“It’s not your turn,” I chastised, not bothering to hide my smirk.

He shrugged. “Answer it, anyway.”

I breathed a laugh. “No. I don’t have anyone, Mr. Shelby.”

“Good.”

I blinked. “How so?”

He didn’t reply. “Come, take a walk with me.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous,” I teased. “Where?”

“I want to show you something,” he said. “Something pretty.”

Tommy seemed to soften as we made our way through the grounds. He walked confidently, with his back straight and his chin up, observing the grounds like a general observing his troops. But there was also this sense of leisure: he had his arms behind his back, and he stepped lazily and slowly, as if making an effort to keep up with me rather than just letting me trail behind him.

We chatted, asking questions back and forth. He participated more voluntarily now, asking question he appeared to want answers to. Tommy had a permanent smirk now, too, which made me feel very proud of myself, if I do say so myself.

A boisterous laugh caught our attention. A very short man with a pretentious moustache stood amongst a group smoking Tommy’s cigars, drinking Tommy’s champagne, talking through their stuffed mouths full of Tommy’s hors d’oeuvres.

“What does Mr. Shelby do, anyway?”

Our eyebrows jump at the same time, we stopped near them, facing each other away from them to not seem like we’re eavesdropping. Tommy glanced at me with mischievous humour. His eyes seemed to say, watch this.

“I hear he’s the great, great nephew of the Kaiser,” added the woman next to the short man.

Tommy turns and leans in. With total severity, and a gossiping, whispering tone, he said: “I hear he murdered a man who threatened to reveal his relation.”

The short man visibly paled, gulping. Tommy leaned beck to me, bright eyes and pursed lips and if he was trying not to laugh. He placed his cigarette between his lips, smiling around it. I was gawking at him, mouth hanging open and wide-eyed— and he could tell, and he enjoyed it. The cheek of his smile was blinding.

I leaned in, almost pressing my lips to his ear — ignoring the feel of his breath on my neck — and demanded, “So, it’s you!”

He sipped his champagne.

“You make up all the rumours,” I insisted.

Tommy’s eyes glittered like before. “Possibly.”

“Oh my god.” I couldn’t help but cackle. Tommy snickered with visible surprise. “Sarah is missing out.”

“Marie told me he’s a Stanford graduate,” cut in the boisterous little man again.

Tommy’s eyebrows jumped, giving me boyish smirk only meant for me, like he was letting me in on the joke. I couldn’t help but release the grin I was trying to hide.

“Is that where he gets his wealth, then? A nice job for an IV League man.”

“Must be.”

“It can’t be, I heard from John that he’s a war hero.”

His smile fell. The playful air that hung in the atmosphere suddenly seemed suffocating. For the first time that night, this mischievous, charming man had turned to stone. My smile melted, too.

“Really? Although admirable, a war hero doesn’t necessarily mean he’s this well-off.”

“No, I didn’t think so either, but apparently he was so brave he received a nice sum from the King for gallantry!”

“Do they even give money prizes for gallantry?”

Before anyone could dispute, another man arrived, apologising for being late, insisting on the height of traffic. Nevertheless, the guests cheered, clapping the man on the back with cheery greetings— any matter of Tommy long forgotten.

Tommy’s expression was nothing less than furious. Not knowing what else to do, I slipped my hand into his palm. He startled, almost going to recoil, but changing his mind. I started tugging. I didn’t know where I was taking him— this is very much his home — but he just needed to be away from there. Before the rest of the life bled from him.

I had no idea why I wasn’t afraid. Maybe I should’ve been, but Tommy didn’t make alarm bells ring in my head, and my gut didn’t have a funny feeling. He had reasonably calm down, cracked a couple of jokes, even resorted to tugging my hand slightly when I went the wrong way. There might have been a ghost of a smile.

I hadn’t let go of Tommy’s hand since we left those people. He was in no rush to let mine go, either. His vice grip almost hurt, but he seemed like he needed it. A left turn through some cut of hedges led us to a brilliant, white gazebo, fairy lights wrapped around the banisters and poles.

“Oh, wow.”

Still grasping my hand, he helped me up the gazebo stairs. Inside was even better. The ceiling of the gazebo was painted a dark blue, almost as blue as the night sky, with little white dots glimmering from the darkness. In the very centre, a lamp shade shone. Printed on it, was a child like illustration of a moon, with a couple of stars to keep it company. Somehow, it all worked together.

I looked at him. “It looks like something out of a fairy tale,” I breathed.

He looked like he wanted to smirk, but he was stopping himself. Some lovers passed the gazebo and had a stroll on the moonlit pathway; escaped the fray to have a moment to themselves in the night— an innocent one, thank heavens. There were no blushing noises I could hear. I couldn’t bear to stand here, in front of Tommy— looking so handsome and boyish under the golden lights— and have to listen to a couple do what they should do in private, right in his manicured garden.

“I love it. It’s very romantic.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. Only looked at me, again, like he knew something.

I gave him my most brilliant grin. “Would you care to dance?”

He stared at me for a moment. “There’s no music.”

“Would dancing to the tune of silence be so wrong?”

I pulled him to me lightly. He cooperated, stepping toward me. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he put his on my waist. Our hands were still joined, though, and I know he noticed too.

At that moment, we were alone. It was just two strangers dancing. Dancing. Among the whisperings. And the Champagne. And the stars.

He gazed at me with the same hooded eyes, the same tight smile, the same starry quality.

“You know exactly what you’re doing when you look at me like that,” I breathed.

His smirk pulled wider and a deep chuckle rumped from his chest.

I caught a glimpse of his watch. “I think it’s time I leave. I’ve got work in the morning.”

He stopped swaying. "When do you get off work?"

My cheeks grew warm. "Are we still doing the questions?"

He smiled, but he said nothing, waiting expectantly.

I gave in. "At five."

“Do you like horses?” Tommy asked.

“Um. Yes?” My heart was racing.

“Would you like to go horse riding?"

I grinned.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders

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weyounbathwater · 3 years ago

Note

What about snart?

SNART

Ok so his backstory is a little long so I'll put the lengthy version under a cut But long story short he's my ex-Borg Ferengi oc who works as an engineer/waiter at Quark's and I love him too much. Here's a drawing of him I'm working on too:

[Image: a digital drawing of Snart, a thin Ferengi man with a pointy face and two Borg implants above and below his left eye, plus two notches in his right ear. The drawing is dark blue lineart on a purple background]

Snart's backstory technically begins when he meets his first boyfriend (who I haven't actually named yet). This boyfriend is very rich and tells Snart that he can live with him - as long as Snart does the cleaning and chores and pretty much whatever he wants him to. Snart doesn't really have anywhere else to go and he's a romantic little man so he agrees, unfortunately trapping himself into the relationship.

Soon enough, this boyfriend starts picking at Snart's income, saying he's too poor and needs to get a job or run some kind of business to make more money, and that they can't get married or anything until Snart's income is roughly the same as his own. Because of this, Snart desperately flies from one job or deal to another just trying to find the money to make his boyfriend happy.

At one point during this is when Snart gets a job as a janitor in a robotics lab where he met and befriended (@edgebug 's) Prototype Mobile Platform 2.7.

Prototype Mobile Platform 2.7 was built from stolen blueprints of soong-type android models. The first real intelligent Ferengi android. He was supposed to be the first of a revolutionary new invention: A Ferengi engineered to carry over two tons without the need to eat or sleep, the ideal worker. Plus, they wouldn't have to be paid.

However, before the project got truly underway, the FCA got wind of it and contacted the heads of the project to tell them "uh if you flood our system with workers who don't get paid you're going to fucking destroy this economy." The project is scrapped and all mobile platforms are scheduled to be dismantled and their parts recycled.

Before that could happen to Mobile Platform 2.7, Snart helps him escape and frames it as a break-in, including feigning symptoms of stun gas poisoning for investigators.

(When the android is about to leave, he expresses concern that he doesn't have a name and that he can't apply for jobs as Mobile Platform 2.7. Snart deliberates before giving him a name: Bot)

Because he was unable to stop the "break-in" however, Snart is fired from his job, leading to another huge fight with his boyfriend about how they'll never get married at this rate and they might as well drop their plans because Snart can't hold a job, etc.

This encourages Snart to reach further in his efforts for money. He gets into black market trades, interstellar intelligence, anything he could get his hands on that would throw latinum his way. Eventually he is contacted by members of a Bajoran mafia group centered on Cardassia Prime. They want Snart to negotiate a treaty with a rival gang for property.

This negotiation turns lethal very quickly. The Bajorans who brought Snart along retreat to a shuttle and Snart is barely able to escape with them. The rival gang chases them from the planet, crippling the shuttle along the way. The shuttle is forced to land on an asteroid just outside of Cardassian space.

Horribly, this same asteroid holds the remains of several other crashed ships, which is being looted by a Borg retrieval squad. Snart, along with seven of the Bajorans, are assimilated.

Snart spends a year among the hive. According to Federation crew logs and unofficial records, he was a very powerful drone, both in charge of and the cause for the collective's newest division: trades and negotiations.

It will be members of the FCA who finally discover Snart's whereabouts. After investigating an exorbitant debt, his last known location is traced to the Borg, where the Federation is notified. Snart, along with a few other drones, is isolated from the hive and disconnected.

Snart is sent back to Ferenginar after his stay at the Federation hospital to find his boyfriend gone along with all of their assets. He had moved on, sold everything, and bought a new business with the money.

With nowhere else to go, Snart scrapes by with what he has until he can afford transport to a space station at Bajor, Deep Space Nine. He is hired at the station's bar, where he has worked since.

(Eventually, the bar gains another new worker, an unusually tall Ferengi who doesn't seem to eat or sleep. It turns out to be Bot. They end up dating each other)

This is already long but I can't find a different place in the story to fit this in and it's important, Snart actually has another boyfriend besides Bot.

Decades ago, before Snart's time, a Ferengi looter's ship came across a vessel, dead in space. The only thing that worked on this ship was the cooling system, which was meant to support a race of beings from an arctic climate. Ferengi - in my headcanons - go into a state of hibernation when they get too cold as a survival instinct. Like frogs in real life.

The looters, including Krem and his cousin, boarded the ship in case it still held anything of value. They wore protective suits to prevent accidentally going into torpor, but for some reason they began to malfunction. The crew were able to escape back to their own ship, except for Krem. Emergencies made it impossible to retrieve him, so he stayed there for many years.

When Krem finally does wake up, he finds himself in a hospital on a space station orbiting Bajor. Another team of looters had attempted to raid the same ship, but rushed to Deep Space Nine when they found Krem.

After quite a few days in the hospital, Krem is released with minimal instructions. With an outdated translator, no way of knowing where he is or how to contact his people, he wanders rather aimlessly in the habitat ring, until he's greeted by Snart.

Snart is able to piece together enough from Krem's vintage dialect to offer to fix his translator. The outdated technology only trips him up a little, experience with fixing Quark's holosuites had prepared him for nearly anything. After he's done, he offers Krem a place to stay in his quarters.

Snart and Krem end up dating. Bot joins them both later. We call them the Krembort polycule.

#snart #ive long said that snart is more like a fursona to me than my actual fursonas are #ferengisona #communications log #gar-trek

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mamawolfblood · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere Abbacchio x reader x Giorno x Bruno x Oc prt 1

You don't remember how it happened. It was a normal day out with your friends. You were scamming turrets for money life wasn't easy. While taking a brake we stop at one of the pasta shops. The three of you giggle amongst yourselves sat at a table by five men not sure if on of them is a man though. While looking ove the menu the waiter comes over giving you a glass of wine. He said it was from the gentleman in black with purple hair. You turned around your black hair looked like it was in a ad for shampoo, wiped to the side as the light makes it appear as if glowing. You give a smile to the stunned man raising the glass. You turned back to the girls. "Why did you do that? That is an invitation Y/N." Iris said playing with her red hair. That was till a glass was placed infront of her. The waiter said it was from the man in white and jaw length black hair. She waisted no time doing the same as you. Bella her younger sister got a glass and the waiter said it was from the young man with blonde hair and purple suit. She like Iris and yourself raised her glass to him. The three men walked over and sat with you. Small talk getting to know each other. You come to know the man as Leone Abbacchio and something about him told you to run as far away as possible. The six of you head out for a day of fun and you couldn't turn down a man willing to shower you in affection. That feeling still nagged at you to run. Bella,Iris and yourself felt wussy and fall into the mens arms. The last thing you see is Abbacchio smirking at you.

"Non preoccuparti, tesoro, sei al sicuro ora. Finché non mi resisti, nessuno che ami si farà male. Sono tutto ciò di cui avrai bisogno della mia bellissima moglie." Was the last thing you heard followed by the three men chuckling.

You woke in a dark room chained to a bed your head pounding. You were jolted by the sound of your friends screaming begging for something to stop. No what the hell is going on? You thought before a door opened.

"Ciao bella, sarai difficile come i tuoi amici? Spero che ti comporti bene, non voglio farti del male." Abbacchio's voice came from the door way. He was shirtless evil in his eyes. You wished you never accepted the wine. Your friends would not be in this mess if you hadn't. Tears spill from your eyes as he stepped closer to you. She quiver with fear as his hands roam your body. "Good girl seems you know how to listen." He whisperes in your ear undoing the chains. "You continue to be a good girl and you will be rewarded. You disobey me however you will find yourself back here chained up till I see fit. Do you understand me Y/N?" You nod not wanting to anger him. You didn't know what he was capable of and you didn't want to find out. You allowed him you have you. This went on for what seemed like weeks. He and his friends let you and your friends out of confinement. This however was there mistake. You had a trick up your sleeve a stand. You play that they don't have one as well. They allowed you three to sit in an old Victorian living room. The one known as Giorno said that a stand is roaming the grounds. You curse under your breath knowing this was going to be difficult. You looked at the pitiful state of your friends and thought to hell with it. You stood up catching their attention. "Pufatter!" You scream and like that a humanoid snake appears beside you. "Abbacchio honey you and your friends go I will stay here and gaurd." Giorno looked at me suspiciously. "I will reward you for this when we take care of the threat darling. You wanted to puke walking up and kissing him for luck. The three men left chasing a phantom. You always knew the right words to say to make men turn to putty. You sent Pufatter to look around the grounds. It actually gets spotted by the three men but they go about their business. Pufatter returns to you ,this gave you the opportunity to make a ruckus. The living room was a reck making it appear a battle took place blood comming from you. The three come in to find you blocking the two girls. Abbacchio was at your side the girls said it was like a whirlwind and the next thing they knew you were hurt. The three men looked shocked but commended me for fighting. This was till...

#original characters #reader insert #jjba abbacchio #jjba bruno #jjba giorno #yandere #stands #fighting

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quentinbecks · 3 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 14: Public Sex

Title: Best Laid Plans

Pairing: Rafe Adler x OC (Charlie Berger)

Words: 4.2 k

Warnings: Absolutely pure smut, but mainly fingering, dirty talk, and sex in a storage room while a firefight is happening on the same property.

A/N: Charlie’s Uncharted AU is finally here! This was originally supposed to be a simple smutty prompt from @starsandskies kinktober list. But, knowing me, I had to make a whole, entire backstory for this. Thank you so much to @johnnycranes for enabling this ship and reading it for me when I was nervous about how my Rafe came out. You’re the best 💕

read on ao3

“Are you done pouting yet?”

Charlie is brought out of her reverie by Rafe absentmindedly placing kisses to her bare shoulder. Usually she enjoys the sorts of events they’re currently headed to; soirées full of stiff members of the upper echelon whose entire nights almost always seemed to be ruined by the couple’s mere presence. But tonight, all she can feel is worry coursing through her veins.

“No,” she whispers, tilting her head up as his lips travel up her throat. “You know how I feel about you constantly chasing that fucking treasure, Rafe.”

She feels a hot breath sighing against her neck before her partner’s head drops to her shoulder. “Honey, you know how important tonight is to me. You know how long I’ve waited to have the Saint Dismas cross in my hands.”

Charlie does know how important this is to him; how much he wants to earn something of his own rather than have it handed to him on a silver platter. But, sometimes she thinks he cares more about gold and treasure than he does her.

“Of course I do,” she says, watching as the limousine pulls up into the driveway of the Rossi Estate. Throngs of their fellow black market dealers and buyers sprawling out across the premises. “But you know how much I want to leave this life behind. I just want us to be normal. Boring, even. Why can’t we do that?”

“After I get Avery’s Treasure, I promise we will. Hey,” Rafe brings his fingers up to her chin, turning her face to look at him. “Soon we can be as boring as you want. We can even start a family,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

Charlie tries to smile in return, but his words just feel like another empty promise. “So you keep saying,” she says leaning in to place a peck to his lips.

Sighing deeply, Charlie steps out of the car, smoothing out the velvet of her emerald dress. Taking his arm, she allows Rafe to lead her through the doors and into the ballroom.

“I know you’re not in the mood for mingling with most of these people,” her partner whispers into her ear. “Once the auction is over and I have the cross, we can head straight out. Alright?” Green eyes flicker towards her looking for a response.

“In and out. Got it,” Charlie nods, grabbing some type of bruschetta off the platter of a passing waiter. “Grazie,” she says, sending a soft smile to the young man.

“Do you want to find our table while I try to track down Nadine?”

“Of course.” Olive eyes scan the crowd containing some of society's most elite, yet some of their worst as well. If you had told her as a little girl that these were the types she would commingle with as an adult she would have been horrified. “I think I see a few of my former -,” Charlie hums, trying to find the right word, “colleagues over there anyway.”

“You sure?,” Rafe asks her.

She simply nods in response, stepping forward to place a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Yes. Now go,” she says as she steps back. “But, please, be careful.”

“I always am, darling.” Rafe flashes her a smile, placing a kiss to her lips before heading off in search of his business partner.

Charlie turns her attention to a table towards the back of the ballroom. Seated amongst two beautiful women half his age is her former associate, Mauricio. But he’s not who her eyes are drawn to.

Her gaze lingers on the older, grey-haired gentleman readjusting his bow tie in the background.

Victor Sullivan.

Deciding to keep an eye on the man, she heads over to her friend and his companions. “Rico!,” Charlie calls out as she saunters over.

“Ms. Berger!,” the older man calls out as he stands. “How long has it been now? Three? Four years?”

“Two,” she corrects him. “I see some things never change, though,” Charlie nods towards the women perched watching them.

“You know beautiful women are drawn to me. Speaking of which, querida, you’re looking ravishing as ever.” Mauricio plants a kiss on her hand, causing her to roll her eyes.

“I’m afraid I’m taken, my dear. Though, I must say, I would prefer to be living the high life in Porto right about now.”

Charlie can’t help but have her attention drift over the man’s shoulder to Victor, noticing that Nadine has now joined him. Feeling uneasy, she begins to dig in her clutch for her phone, trying to pay attention to both Mauricio and the situation developing behind him.

Noticing her distracted state, her friend turns around to see what’s taken the focus off of himself and the tale he’s begun to tell. “Victor Sullivan is here? I thought that man retired.”

“So did I. Have you heard anything about what’s brought him out tonight? What have people been saying?”

Charlie’s voice sounds crazed and she knows she sounds way more frenzied than the situation calls for, but deep in her gut she knows Samuel Drake is involved in this somehow.

She’s never trusted the man, but Rafe has always assured her that he’s dependable and that with his knowledge of Avery and other pirates, he’s closer to finding the treasure than he ever was before. That somehow their time spent in a Panamanian jail together has bonded them.

Charlie knows that’s bullshit. There’s no honor amongst thieves and Rafe would be naive to believe otherwise.

“Isn’t that your partner, Charlene?”

She nods, allowing her green eyes to follow said partner’s every move. Rafe has joined the pair now and Charlie knows that this is headed nowhere good and fast. His demeanor appears to be jovial and confident, but Charlie understands Rafe well enough now to know that underneath it all he’s seething.

“What a trio.” Mauricio lets out a low whistle before turning his attention back to her. “How do you think the general public would feel if they knew the golden boy of the Adler empire was associated with thieves and black market dealers?”

“I think they would be pretty stupid to assume that a billionaire with actual morals exists,” she says with a shrug. “But, if they haven’t found out about my past yet, I doubt they’ll ever find out about his criminal inclinations.”

“They don’t -,” Mauricio goes to say but is interrupted by a voice announcing that soon bidding would begin for the crucifix from the Trott Estate. Charlie knows Rafe paid quite the pretty penny for the auctioneer to bring it out first.

“I should probably go grab Rafe,” Charlie nods at her partner who looks less than pleased now. “He’s been quite eager to get his hands on that cross for some time now.”

“Ah, I didn’t take him for a fan of religious imagery.”

“He’s full of surprises,” she says with a soft smile. “But, hey, maybe I can introduce you two before we leave?”

Mauricio’s hazel eyes glow warmly as he beams at her. “You know I can’t turn down an opportunity like that.”

“And I bet you thought I was just going to keep him all to myself,” Charlie jokes as she goes to plant a parting kiss on her friend’s cheek. “What kind of person would I -”

“Cut the bullshit, old man.”

Charlie immediately jumps at the sound of a glass crashing to the ballroom floor. Of course, during the brief moment she’s distracted Rafe decides to get into a very public spat with Victor.

“I should go,” she gives Mauricio a remorseful frown, “before he makes an even bigger scene.”

Hiking up her dress, Charlie shoves her way through the crowd until she finds Rafe. Straightening out his white suit jacket, he tries to recompose himself.

“What happened here?,” she whispers, fingers going to adjust his bow tie. Despite his outside appearance seeming cool, calm, and collected, Charlie can feel his heart thrumming in double time.

“Somethings not right.” Rafe shakes his head as he looks down at her, green eyes boring into her own. “Victor Sullivan is here somehow. I swear to God, Charlie if he tries to take-”

“He won’t,” she interrupts him. “Tonight is your night, baby. Don’t let him get to you.”

“It’s just,” he throws his head back with a sigh. “You don’t know what he and the Drake’s are capable of.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Charlie puts her hands on his shoulders, standing up on her tip-toes. “But I know what you’re capable of,” she says, placing her lips to his for a soft kiss.

“Just think,” she says as she pulls away, “the crucifix will be yours in oh, I don’t know,” she hums, “twenty minutes?”

“I hope you’re right about that.”

Charlie beams at him. “I’m always right.”

She takes note of how the fluorescents hit her partner just right, making him look more handsome than usual tonight. “And maybe we can celebrate on the ride home?,” she asks, running her palm down his chest.

Rafe’s eyes darken as he leans down to whisper in her ear, nosing stray hair out of the way. “I think we can do more than just celebrate.”

Charlie lets out a low whine, having to bite her lip to stifle the sound. “Well, that’s what I’ll be thinking about while you’re winning us a six digit cross.” She pouts up at him. “Too bad you pushed the bidding to the beginning of the night.”

Emitting a low groan, he cups her face in her hand. “Like you said, this should only take twenty minutes or so. Do you think you can be a good girl for that long?”

Charlie knows she can’t, but she nods “yes” anyway.

“Bidding for a crucifix from the Trott Estate will begin in five minutes.”

The voice of the female announcer over the speaker interrupts the little moment they were having. “This is what you’ve been waiting all these years for,” Charlie says as she pulls away. “I’ll be waiting for you back at the table.”

“You sure you don’t want to come watch?”

“In these heels? No, thank you. Besides,” she shrugs, “I could go for a drink.”

“I’ll come find you afterwards, alright?”

Charlie agrees, letting Rafe place a quick peck to her cheek before making her way over to the bar. After pushing through throngs of designer-clad women and men, she finally makes it to her destination.

“Un bicchiere de vino bianco, per favore,” she says, taking a seat at the bar. She can hear the start of the auction echoing throughout the room and she hopes that this is the beginning of the end of her partner’s adventure hunting. But there’s a feeling inside of her; one that makes her blood run cold, that tells her it may never truly end.

“Bene! We have one hundred thousand euros in the room. Thank you. Do we have any other bids? We now have one hundred ten thousand euros in the room.”

Giving a quick thanks to the bartender as he hands her her glass, she turns to face the stage. Charlie can hear the back and forth of Rafe and Victor beginning to haggle over the St. Dismas cross.

Why the fuck is he getting involved? she thinks. Surely he can’t afford however high of a price Rafe will take this up to to ensure it’s his.

She watches anxiously as the older man keeps on bidding after bidding. No matter what price Rafe gives, Sullivan seems to want to take it one step further. It’s infuriating and she’s annoyed on her partner’s behalf. If there was any hope of them having a good time after they left the estate, all those dreams were just dashed.

“Five hundred thousand! Let’s get this show on the road here.” Rafe is clearly agitated and anxious and Charlie is sure it’s apparent to everyone else in the room.

“Oh… thank you. We have five hundred thousand euros in the room.”

“Had me worried there for a minute, Victor. Thought I might have to kill you!”

She cringes at the threat. Rafe and the others in the room may be chuckling along, but Charlie knows that that was no joke, he would kill anyone to acquire that cross.

Within seconds the lights in the room go off, sounds of screams and shouts reverberate throughout the ballroom. She hears Rafe yelling for security to stop someone, whom she assumes to be Sullivan, from leaving.

Swiveling around in her seat, she motions to the bartender for a second glass of wine; she’s going to need it if she wants to make it through the rest of the night with her sanity fully intact.

As Charlie searches through her clutch for spare euros, she hears the familiar footsteps of Rafe angrily approaching. “Where have you been?,” he hisses in her ear.

“Trying to give you some space to cool down,” she says as she turns around to face him, fresh drink in hand.

“I don’t think I’m going to be ‘cooling down’ anytime soon, honey.” Rafe runs a shaky hand through his hair; his jaw clenched. Charlie can tell how anxious he is right now and it breaks her heart. Despite wishing that he could focus on anything but the treasure, she knows how desperately he’s longed for this.

Taking a final sip of her drink, she places the half-full glass on the countertop before hopping off the stool. Noticing that the guards are trying to keep everyone in the main building while the estate is operating only on generators, a plan begins to formulate in her mind.

“Come with me.” Charlie grabs both of Rafe’s hands in hers as she begins to pull him towards an unguarded doorway. “I think I might know of a way to help you relax.”

“Charlie…”

“What?,” she asks, daring a glance back at him. His green eyes look back at her, giving her a hungry look. “You sure look like you want this.”

She stops at the door, pulling him into her as she leans against it. Taking a quick scan of the crowd, she can see that they’re too occupied with trying to make their way en masse to other parts of the property; pushing past the security guards trying to contain them. She can also hear gunfire in the background, assuring her that no one will catch them anytime soon.

Reaching behind her, Charlie grasps the cool brass of the doorknob, pushing the door open to slip the both of them inside. After doing a quick check of the room to make sure it’s secure, Rafe pushes her against a beam in the middle of the room.

“Looks like we have all the time in the world,” she whispers, watching as her partner’s slender fingers run up the length of her side.

Rafe begins to delicately bunch up the velvet material around her waist before making quick work of her panties. “Maybe by the time I’m done having my way with you,” he purrs in her ear, “the guards will have done their job and retrieved my crucifix.”

Charlie mewls as his thumb begins to stroke slow circles on her clit. Reaching up to grab onto the lapel of his white suit jacket, she pulls him down into a kiss. Rafe’s soft lips slide hungrily against hers; his tongue teasing its way past her lips.

Her hands trail up from his shoulders, gripping and pulling at strands of hair as his lips begin to leave bruising kisses down her jaw to her neck.

“Can we not talk about treasure or crosses right now?,” Charlie pants out. “Gold can’t fuck you and it certainly can’t love you.” She can’t help the bitter undertone to her voice. She’s trying to help him forget about his friend double crossing him, but the treasure always clouds his mind.

Rafe tsks. “Oh, my poor baby,” he says huskily, placing a nip to her pulse point. “Are you jealous?” His fingers slide from her clit to down between her thighs. “You know you’re my most prized treasure.”

Charlie cries out, bucking into his hand as two fingers are slowly inserted inside of her. “Always so wet for me.”

Her legs begin to shake as his fingers curl inside of her. Feeling as if she might lose her balance, she wraps her arms around the support beam behind her back.

Damn him, she thinks. Rafe always knows how to read her; knows what makes her tick and what makes her see red. But, Charlie can’t be mad, not when she can feel the heat begin to coil within her belly due to the steady pumping of his fingers.

“Please don’t stop,” she breathes. “I’m so close.”

Rafe presses himself against her thigh, fingers picking up speed. She can feel him hardening against her, that alone bringing her closer to the edge.

For a brief moment, Charlie forgets that there are others outside as her moans become louder and begin to echo throughout the room.

“Sssh.” Rafe nuzzles into her ear. “As sexy as you sound and,” he glances down at her chest, heaving and barely contained to her strapless dress, “as sexy as you look. We don’t need anyone else hearing you, now do we?”

She can barely respond except for shamelessly moaning even louder, her walls beginning to tighten around his fingers.

“Rafe…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Charlie rolls her head back onto the beam, nails digging into the wood. With a cry, Charlie comes; her body trembling.

Closing her eyes, she tries to catch her breath, but there’s barely a chance to as Rafe eagerly kisses her, his hands going to cup her breasts.

“God, look at you.” His voice is hoarse and husky, his green eyes blown. “So fucking perfect.” Pulling away he brings his fingers to his lips, wetting them with his tongue. “Always so sweet too.”

Charlie squeezes her thighs together, feeling herself getting turned on again from the sight. Reaching forward, she pulls Rafe back to her by his belt; fingers eagerly beginning to unbuckle it immediately.

“You have no idea how badly I want you inside of me right now,” she purrs as she brings her lips to his for a heated kiss.

Rafe groans against her lips as he brings his hands to the back of her dress, tugging on the zipper.

“Hey! Be careful with that,” she whines.

“It’s just a dress, darling. We can get you another one.” He carefully peels off the tape that had held her dress up, leaning down to take a newly freed nipple into his mouth.

“But I,” Charlie gasps as Rafe wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, “liked that dress.”

He ignores her complaints, swirling his tongue around her pebbled nipple. Green eyes peer up at her as he gives a light bite.

“Please, Rafe. No more teasing.” Charlie knows she sounds whiny right now, but she’s aching to feel him and he knows it.

She can feel him smile against her chest before standing up fully. “Always with the neediness,” he teases, pulling her towards a crate in the back of the room. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

Charlie kicks her dress away before following after him. “Am I going to be the only one who’s naked here?,” she asks as he lifts her onto the wooden crate. Besides her heels, she’s completely naked, whereas Rafe has remained completely clothed.

He just shrugs at her. “Undress me then, sweetheart.”

Grabbing at his waistband, she begins to slowly undo his dress pants. Once she sees the bulge in his boxer briefs Charlie realizes just how impatient she truly is. As gorgeous as his body is, he looks just as good with clothes on and he looks even better when he’s pounding into her with them on.

“Oh, fuck it.” She slides her hand down the elastic, beginning to stroke him. Grinning at the hiss Rafe lets out at the sensation, Charlie leans up to hungrily kiss him, tongue and teeth clashing against each other.

“Just fuck me, Rafe. But I swear,” she whispers, “if one of those guards comes in here and finds me naked, I’ll be forced to kill them.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, freeing himself from his briefs and replacing her hand. “If anyone looks at you I’ll kill them myself.”

Charlie beams at him. If it was anyone else in her past she wouldn’t have been into that subtle possessiveness, but with Rafe it’s just another one of his traits that turns her on.

She bites her lip, watching as he begins to stroke himself before lining himself up at her entrance. Wrapping her leg around his waist, he slides himself inside, soft moans falling from both their lips.

Rafe starts slowly rocking himself into her, their foreheads pressed together. “You have to stay quiet this time, understood?”

“I can be a good girl for you, Rafe.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he pants out. “You’re my best girl.”

Charlie mewls at his words, laying herself back on the crate, the wood digging into her skin. She’s sure she’s getting splinters all over her back right now, but the pain is worth it for the look Rafe shoots her; like he wants to devour her.

Her hand slides in between them to rub her clit as he lifts her leg up over his shoulder. “I swear, Charlie,” he groans, his thrusts beginning to pick up a more brutal pace. “I’m going to destroy all of them for ruining this night.”

Charlie shudders, a second wave of pleasure beginning to build up. “Harder, baby,” she whines, trying to pull him in even closer.

“Harder, you say?” He begins to pound into her now, the crate creaking underneath her from the movement.

The combination of her own digits and Rafe’s movements brings her closer to the edge. She feels a hand trail down her body before cupping a breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers.

“My perfect girl.”

That’s all it takes for Charlie to cry out, her back arching off the crate. Rafe groans as she clenches around him; nails digging into her thighs. Leaning down, he kisses her through her come down.

“Fuck, that felt so good,” he purrs into her ear, placing a light nibble to the lobe before pulling them both up again.

Charlie snakes her arms around his shoulders as he begins to bounce her on his cock. “Now it’s your turn to cum for me, baby,” she says before beginning to suck and bite at his neck. She doesn’t care if all these stuffy assholes see him with a mark from her. If anything, it might make her feel proud.

“Charlie…,” he moans, his lip slightly curling. Rafe’s movements start to become erratic, so much so that Charlie has to reach a hand behind her to hold the crate still.

After a few more deep thrusts, his body stills. Cupping her cheeks, he forces her to look up at him. “I guess now is as good of a time as any to start a family.”

Charlie smiles weakly through her panting. “You sure about this?”

Rafe nods as he pulls out, looking for something to clean them up with. “You really think I’m just going to give up because Samuel managed to get one over on me?” He gives her a look before grabbing a waiter’s cloth and heading back to her.

“Not at all,” she says, watching as he cleans up his seed running down her thigh. “Just surprised you think this will be over soon.”

Charlie hops off the crate, heading towards her discarded dress lying crumpled at the bottom of the beam. Shaking it out, she steps into it, frowning as her breasts try to break free from her attempted confinement.

“Nadine and I have been searching tirelessly through the cathedral for a while now. Her shoreliners are getting close to finding what Avery hid there.” Rafe grabs a bottle of wine before making his way towards her. “Once we find that? We’ll be untouchable.”

Charlie’s hand rests on her belly. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up too soon about Rafe finally having a hold of the treasure he’s waited fifteen years for, but the thought of them finally being the “boring” couple, despite their pasts, that she’s wanted? It’s too good to be true.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she lets out a laugh, “but I’m excited to get back to Scotland so we can dig through some relics.”

“You wanna help me?” Rafe pulls her close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Charlie hums. “Well, we’re a team too. It’s not just you and Nadine.”

Rafe chuckles. “You’re right, you’re right.” Casting his gaze downwards he notices the way her gown begins to slip down. Taking off his suit jacket he throws it over her shoulders, handing her the bottle to hide underneath it.

“I suppose I’ll have to get you a new one.”

“If we’re lucky, I won’t even be able to fit in one in a few months.”

Charlie stills. It’s absolutely quiet outside of the storage room except for some light chatter from who she presumes to be staff and security guards.

“We should probably get going,” she smiles impishly up at Rafe.

“After you, my dear.”

#oc: charlie berger #rafe adler #ship: for all the gold in the world #rafe adler x oc #uncharted 4 fic #kinktober #nsft #nervous about this one so be nice pls!!!

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sarcasmandships · 4 years ago

Text

how to save a life part 2︱spencer reid

word count: 8.7k

spencer reid x slight oc

spencer and veronica argue over him keeping their relationship from the team, but when spencer sustains a life-threatening gun shot wound it puts everything into perspective

angst + hurt/comfort with a n eventual happy ending

this is not an x reader because i hate writing y/n in place of a character name and it often forces you into writing in second person which i also hate - however I have avoided giving specific descriptions of hair/eye/skin colour, height and body shape so feel free to imagine it like an x reader

this is also heavily inspired by greys anatomy and ive taken characters from the show to be side characters, however you do not need to have watched a single episode of greys to follow the story

warnings: spencer being shot, descriptions of blood, descriptions of surgery

read part one here!

Veronica readjusted her dress for what felt like the 100th time that evening. The green, silk bodice was too restrictive; her feet ached from the stiletto heels April had picked out for her. She grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

"That is for the guests!" April hissed, smacking her arm with her tiny clutch bag.

"And the hostages," Veronica said, raising her glass to an imaginary toast.

"Amen to that," Cristina agreed, taking a long sip of champagne from her own glass.

"You two are hopeless," April said, shaking her head before storming off.

"I like angry Kepner," Cristina chuckled.

"God, I can't breathe in this thing," Veronica gasped, pulling at the top of her dress again, "I think I've got a tension pneumothorax."

"Unfortunately, if I had a needle big enough to help you, I'd have stabbed myself in the eye hours ago," Cristina said, deadpan.

Veronica gave her a shaky laugh.

"Ooo, is that Kevin Gibbs?" Cristina said, suddenly filled with a burst of newfound energy as she spied a man at the next table, "oh, he is rich rich, I'm so getting a donation from him," she grinned before dashing off to take Kevin Gibbs' arm.

Veronica rolled her eyes as she watched Cristina twirl her hair and flutter her eyelashes; she was far too good at this. Veronica was left alone at the table, tired of pretending she was interested in anything these rich, old men had to say; she pulled her phone out to scroll through Twitter.

However, as she unlocked it, Spencer's name popped up on her screen, and her shrill ringtone cut through the low-level chatter and ambient music in the room. She hastily switched the phone to silent after receiving a few pointed glares but continued to stare blankly at the screen as it rang.

She did not want to speak to him.

But she had told him to keep in touch.

Via text, not a phone call.

But what if something was wrong.

Eventually, she clicked 'accept'.

"Spencer, I told you-"

"Hi, Veronica," the voice on the other end cracked, "it's Derek Morgan. We met earlier today..."

Veronica's blood ran cold as Derek spoke to her through the phone. She could hear the piercing wail of the sirens; it harmonised with Cristina's shrill laughter as she flirted with Kevin at the next table.

Blood was pounding in her ears. Her entire body was in free fall like she was being hurled down the drop of a rollercoaster that seemed to never end.

"... they're taking him to Stafford Grace Mercy West Hospital, meet us there when you can - I gotta go."

Derek hung up the phone.

Veronica stood frozen, her body trembling and mind spinning.

"Veronica!" Jackson snapped as he strutted towards her, "you're supposed to be getting donations, not standing in a corner drinking all the champagne…."

Veronica was staring straight at Jackson's face as he ranted, but she couldn't focus her eyes enough to see his furrowed brows or flared nostrils. Her mind was spinning at hyper speed, but everything around her moved in slow motion; she gripped onto the edge of the table.

"…are you even listening to me?" he snapped his fingers in front of Veronica's glazed eyes.

"Spencer was shot. In the chest, he's on the way to the hospital now," she said in a monotone, "I have to...I have to go...I..." Veronica clutched her head in her hands; the room would not stop spinning.

"Oh my god," Jackson gulped, "of course, go, go. Do you want me to come?"

Veronica stumbled away from him and towards the door. Why was the floor moving like that?

"No," she called back to him, "this is your event you can't leave, I just- I need to go," she turned on her heel and dashed out of the door.

The hospital was just up the street. Jackson had picked a venue close by so the doctors who didn't have the day off could get there quickly after work. Veronica pushed people out of the way as she staggered up the street; her feet didn't hurt anymore. Her whole body was just pins and needles.

She burst through the doors of the ER, in her floor-length, green dress and dazzling emerald necklace, with tears streaming down her face. Sections of her neatly pinned hair had broken free; she clutched her chest as she gasped for air. It was only a matter of time before someone called for a psychiatric consult.

With most of the other attendings at the gala, the interns and residents had swarmed like locusts to get their hands on a surgical case. Veronica pushed through the sea people, looking for someone she knew – why did all the residents look the same?

Veronica scanned the trauma rooms, hoping to catch sight of his messy hair. They were full of bloodied and beaten-up people, but none of them were Spencer. She had just stumbled through the double doors to the waiting area when she heard someone call her name.

"Veronica?"

She whipped her head around to see Derek Morgan standing in front of her. Several steps behind him, she noticed Penelope Garcia, who she recognised from this morning, and several other anxious FBI agents.

"Derek," she gasped, gripping onto his outreached hands, allowing herself to stabilise slightly, "w-what happened?"

"We were chasing down the unsub and Reid...he fell and just when he was getting back up, he got hit. It was bad luck. It caught him just above his vest."

"And he's in surgery now? I didn't see him in any of the trauma rooms?"

"They just took him up; come with us. You need to sit down," he said kindly, and Veronica allowed him to guide her over to the seats.

"Hi again," Garcia squeaked, but Veronica stared straight ahead and didn't answer her.

The others tried to introduce themselves, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. They were names she knew well from Spencer's last night rants about work, but she couldn't bring herself to look at any of them long enough to put a face to the name. Derek was trying to reassure her when Veronica caught sight of a familiar resident walking past with a tablet in her hand.

"Murphy!" she barked, "get over here."

Murphy's head snapped up, and she looked around rapidly to see where the voice had come from; when her eyes finally landed on Veronica, she looked at her quizzically but shuffled over.

"Dr Grey, I thought you were at the gala-"

"I need you to look up a patient for me, Spencer Reid - came in with a GSW to the chest and should be in surgery now."

"Dr Grey, what's going on?" Murphy said slowly, her eyes darting between Veronica and the team of agents behind her.

"Just do it, Murphy!" she ordered, and Spencer's teammates looked slightly taken aback.

"Okay, okay!" she said, typing rapidly on her tablet, "he's in surgery with Dr Hunt and Dr Altman for an exploratory thoracotomy...chest x-ray showed a GSW to the chest with the bullet lodged near the thoracic aorta...he was tachycardic and hypotensive when he came in, with substantial blood loss-"

Bile bubbled up in her throat, "what OR are they in?"

"Dr Grey, I can't-"

"What O.R, Murphy?" she snapped; she gripped the edge of the plastic chair to prevent herself from strangling the resident.

"OR one!"

"Okay... OR one. OR one has a gallery," Veronica mumbled to herself, she tapped her foot against the floor and her stiletto clacked against the linoleum.

"Dr Grey, you know you can't go up there when you aren't working-"

"Murphy, do you want a medical career?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"Then you'll get out of my way before I have the AMA strip your medical license," Veronica snapped; she stood up and gathered up the skirt of her dress as she began to power walk towards the elevator.

"Wait, where are you going?" Derek called after her.

"Spencer's in OR one, that OR has a viewing gallery... I'm going to watch his surgery," she said flatly before turning away and continuing along the hallway.

It wasn't until she was in the elevator and ready to push the OR floor button that she realised that Spencer's team was directly behind her.

"What are you guys doing?" she sighed as they piled into the elevator after her.

"He's one of us. We aren't gonna hang around a waiting room if we can be there with him," the blonde woman that Veronica thought was called Jennifer, retorted.

She was ready to argue. To protest that they weren't allowed in the gallery, that surgery wasn't for the faint-hearted. But then she looked at all their faces, desperate and distressed; they looked how she felt.

So, she closed her mouth and jabbed the button for the fifth floor.

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the fifth floor. It stopped on three, and a huddle of surgical interns tried to cram in, but Veronica snapped at them before they had the chance.

"No. You get the next one," she glowered at them, and they could only give her nervous stammers and shaky head nods in response.

Veronica rolled her eyes at them as the doors crept shut again, with her arms folded tightly across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor.

"You seem to have a lot of authority here," Hotch commented.

"I'm an attending," she said bluntly, "they're interns - bottom of the surgical food chain, their only job is to stay out of our way and try not to kill anyone."

"That seems...harsh," Garcia whispered to Derek.

Veronica whipped her head around, "a hospital like this doesn't work without a hierarchy; it's how we learn. If we don't treat them that way, then they get too confident. Would you rather have an intern perform Spencer's exploratory thoracotomy or two surgeons with years of experience who are chiefs of their respective departments?"

Garcia gaped at her, but the elevator doors creaked open, saving her from trying to respond to Veronica's scathing comment.

"The gallery is this way," Veronica grunted under her breath as she exited the elevator and crept up a short flight of stairs.

"That wasn't very nice; Garcia was only making an observation," JJ whispered to Emily as they followed Veronica.

"Who is this woman?" Emily responded, equally as confused as to why they were following this random woman around a hospital.

Derek turned round to face them, "she's Spencer's girlfriend-"

"Girlfriend!" Emily gasped, "did he ever mention a girlfriend to any of you?" she asked, looking between JJ and Derek.

"No, not once…." JJ frowned.

"He didn't tell me as much as he was forced to, that's why he's been acting so off recently, but I couldn't really get many details from him about her, so don't ask me anything - she's just worried about him like we are, she's on edge too."

Veronica burst into the gallery, which was thankfully empty. She pressed her forehead up against the viewing window and saw Spencer lying on the table. The glass was cool against her forehead, which seemed to somewhat soothe her pounding headache.

Spencer's face was draped, she couldn't see his eyes, but she could see his half of his rib cage. That unsettled her; she wasn't supposed to be able to see into her boyfriend's chest cavity. Veronica clung to the glass as she staggered to the intercom on the wall; she pushed the button that allowed them to hear what was being said in the OR.

"... there's a lot of bleeding here, more suction!" Dr Altman demanded.

"Right away, doctor."

Veronica flicked the switch that allowed her to be heard in the OR, "Owen," she said slowly, and he looked up at her in shock, "I need you to save him."

"Veronica, you're supposed to be at the fundraiser. What are you doing here?"

"Owen, listen to me," she pleaded, her voice cracking, "I need you to save him."

"Well, of course, I'm gonna try and save him, Veronica I don't understand-"

"Oh god," Dr Altman said as she suddenly realised what was happening, "Spencer Reid... he's your Spencer. I met him at Owen and Cristina's wedding; we talked so much about the Mechanical Complications of Acute Myocardial Infarction I thought he was a surgeon too…."

Veronica nodded silently.

Her Spencer.

She couldn't control the sob that wracked her body. She was vaguely aware of Garcia placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, so I need you to save him," she sniffed, "because if he dies, I will literally go out of my fucking mind, and I won't be much of a neurosurgeon from the psych floor."

"Veronica, you should be up here," Owen said as he forced another clamp into Spencer's chest, "how did you even know where he was?"

"Murphy told me," she said, "but it wasn't her fault, so don't go and yell at her; I told her I'd have her medical licence taken away."

Owen paused, "you can't do that, though."

"She doesn't know that! Please just save him. I need you to save him."

"I-" Dr Altman hesitated, "we'll do everything we can, V, I promise you."

"Thank you, Teddy," she whispered through her tears; she flicked the button off again so they wouldn't be distracted by her sobs.

Veronica collapsed into a chair in the middle of the front row and kicked her heels off. Spencer's team had shuffled into the rows behind her and sat, whispering quietly among themselves and clutching onto each other.

"V-veronica," Garcia finally spoke after around an hour of near silence, "I know you're a different kind of doctor, but what are they doing? I don't understand any of these medical terms. Can you explain it?"

Veronica twisted slowly in her seat to face her, revealing her mascara coated cheeks and puffy eyes. She nodded slowly.

"They're doing a surgery called an exploratory thoracotomy; they're trying to remove all the bullet fragments from his chest cavity. Their main concern is that the bullet hit very close to the thoracic aorta, which is a major vessel that carries blood from the heart to the rest of the body."

"B-but it didn't hit his aorta, so that's good, right?"

"Right, cos' if it had, then he'd have bled out seconds after he was hit," Veronica paused to swallow the vomit creeping up her throat as she imagined Spencer's bloodless body lying in the morgue, "but the impact of the bullet creates shock waves when it enters the body. Considering the proximity to the thoracic aorta, it could weaken it and cause an aortic dissection."

"And that's bad?"

Veronica nodded gravely, "they're almost always fatal, the blood loss becomes too uncontrollable, and even the best surgeons, like Dr Altman and Dr Hunt, can't do anything," she turned back around to face the OR as a fresh set of tears threatened to spill over.

"Oh," was all Garcia could muster up.

"Those doctors, are they really the best?" Emily asked.

Veronica nodded, "Owen, Dr Hunt is head of trauma surgery, and Teddy, Dr Altman, is head of cardiothoracic surgery. They served together in Iraq; they've put soldiers half blown apart by bombs back together, if anyone can save Spencer - it's them," she reassured.

"Good to know..." Emily said in uncertainty, wrapping a comforting arm around JJ, who was silently sobbing into a tissue.

"What you need to understand is that every GSW is different, which is what makes them so difficult to fix, and when a bullet enters the body, it not only tears through structures, but the transfer of kinetic energy can cause damage to nearby tissues, like what I was saying about his thoracic aorta," she explained slowly, "that's why GSWs are so dangerous because the damaged area can ripple out around the entry wound."

"But you think he'll be okay, right?" JJ sniffed.

Veronica hesitated; she glanced back at Spencer's motionless body on the table. Her eyes scanning the monitors he was hooked up to, the constant stream of O neg he was being replenished with, the rip spreaders and clamps in his chest…

She felt sick again and had to turn away.

"I don't know. He hasn't been in surgery very long… it's just too early to say."

"There isn't anything more we can do for him now," Hotch spoke gravely, "he's in the hands of the people who are best trained to help him; we just need to trust that they are doing everything they can to save him."

Hotch's words had a sense of finality, and the room fell close to silent again with only Veronica, Garcia and JJ's sniffles and sobs echoing around the dimly lit room. Derek help Garcia's hand tightly in his own, JJ rested her head on Emily's shoulder, Hotch and Rossi sat next to each other, their faces stoic and stony. Veronica sat alone, tugging at the restrictive bodice of her dress every few seconds.

They sat like that for at least another two hours.

Suddenly, the monitors attached to Spencer began beeping rapidly, Veronica's heart seized, and she jumped to her feet to get a better view.

"What's happening to him?" Garcia whimpered; she clung onto Derek's arm as he also stood up and strained his neck to see.

"He's in DIC!" Teddy's voice echoed through the intercom, "push heparin," she ordered.

"Veronica, what's going on?" Derek asked; he tried to keep his voice steady, but it wavered slightly.

"He's in DIC, disseminated intravascular coagulation - it means that proteins in the blood that cause clotting go into overdrive, which actually causes excessive bleeding. If they don't control the blood loss, it's fatal."

"Lap pads! And more suction! I can't see a thing," Owen demanded as he packed Spencer's chest cavity to absorb the excess blood.

"And hang another unit of O neg, he's losing too much blood," Teddy added, "there was nothing in his medical history that indicated he was at risk of DIC...Veronica! Is he on blood thinners?"

Veronica dragged herself over to the intercom and pushed in on the button, "n-no, nothing like that, he takes zolpidem sometimes, but that wouldn't cause DIC..." she muttered.

Something clicked in her brain, and she spun round to face Derek, "you said he fell before he got shot."

Derek nodded, "that's right, the woman the unsub had abducted pushed past him to escape, and he fell down the full flight of stairs. That distracted me long enough for the unsub to get a shot in at him...."

"Teddy! He fell before he was shot, he fell down a flight of stairs, he could have a splenic injury or a laceration on the portal vein or hepatic artery- it wouldn't have been picked up on a chest x-ray. You have to do an ex-lap!"

"Veronica, we've already cracked his chest-" Owen began to protest.

"Pressures dropping, doctor!"

Veronica banged on the glass, "he'd rather be alive with two incisions than dead with one."

"Dr Hunt, you're the trauma surgeon this your call," Teddy said calmly, "but we need to do something and fast."

"We don't even know if he has a splenic injury! We can't take medical suggestions from our patient's hysterical girlfriend; that isn't how it works-"

"He's dying," Veronica wailed, "and he's going to die if you don't do something. If it were Cristina on my table, you would be begging me to do whatever it takes to save her. Teddy – you promised me you would do everything you could, and you're not doing anything! He's bleeding to death, and you aren't helping him," she sobbed against the glass.

Teddy and Owen exchanged a look.

"10 blade," Owen grimaced, and Veronica breathed a sigh of relief, "you better be right about this Grey – convert drapes for an ex-lap!"

"Oh God, I can't watch this," JJ said; she flopped back into her seat as Owen made a deep incision into Spencer's abdomen.

Despite dealing with horrific crime scenes daily, everyone else in the team had to follow JJ's lead as floods of blood gushed from the incision site. Garcia, who had screwed her eyes shut the minute the monitors started beeping, was rocking herself back and forth and mumbling under her breath.

"Okay, I need more suction! I'm seeing some damage to the hepatic artery," Teddy said, "can you ligate it from your side?"

"Yeah, I think so, clamp!"

Veronica wished she could be like Spencer's team. She wished she didn't have a medical degree; she wished she didn't know every possible thing that could go wrong from this point forward. She wished she could close her eyes or at least tear them away from the scene that would plague her nightmares for years to come.

She could hardly believe it when his pressure finally stabilised; she embraced the smile that crept onto her face as she watched the readings on the monitor slowly begin to climb up.

"You can open your eyes now; they ligated the artery and stopped the bleeding, combined with the heparin that should be enough to keep him stable for now."

"For now?" JJ questioned.

"He's doing well; that injury could've been fatal, but he pulled through, and that's good; it's just that I don't want to tell you he's out of the woods when he's far from it."

"It's been hours," JJ said, "how much longer before we know if he'll be okay?"

Veronica shrugged, "probably a couple more hours; they need to make sure the wall of the thoracic aorta is strong enough before they close and remove all the bullet fragments; they need to take their time."

"You'll have to forgive us, Dr Grey," Hotch spoke quietly, "we don't have the patience for this kind of thing like you do."

"It's okay, and you can call me Veronica," she smiled nervously and picked at her nails.

This was what she'd wanted all along, to meet Spencer's team. But now, she was standing in front of them and couldn't think of a single thing to say. She had imagined this moment every night for months, but never in her wildest dreams did it go like this.

"Veronica then," he said stiffly, "so you said you're a neurosurgeon?"

"Yeah," she said, tearing her eyes away from the surgery in front of her to face him, "that's how Spencer and I met; he came to a lecture I gave on the Endoscopic Fenestration of Arachnoid Cysts Through Lateral Pontomesencephalic Membranotomy, cos' that's just the kind of things he does for fun," she snorted.

"Sounds like him," Hotch said, smiling fondly.

"I just can't believe he never told us about you," Emily commented, "and I can't believe we never figured it out; I mean, come on, guys, we're meant to be profilers."

Veronica gritted her teeth, "Yeah, me neither..."

"Veronica!" Jackson said, bursting through the door to the gallery, "I just got away from the gala; how's he doing?" he asked, rushing over to embrace her in a tight hug.

"He's stable for now; his temp has come up a lot since he got here, but he did go into DIC, and they had to convert to an ex-lap..."

"Owen and Teddy will be doing everything they can; he'll be okay."

She nodded, "I know...I just want it to be over; even if he was in the CCU, I could handle it, but he's lying open on an operating table, and I can't help him."

He rubbed circles on her back soothingly, "it'll be over soon. Can I get you anything?"

"Something to change into. I don't think I have any clothes in my locker, but just grab me some scrubs... I'd take a patient gown if it meant I could get out of this dress," she said, tugging again at the restrictive top.

"You got it," he said, breaking away from their hug, "April wanted to come and be with you, but Harriett's with the sitter and she had to-"

"Don't worry about it, just get me something to wear. I can't breathe in this thing."

"Yeah, I'm on it," he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, "Cristina's on her way; she'll be here soon."

Jackson shuffled out of the gallery, giving a nod and a tight-lipped smile to the others as he passed them. Veronica retook a seat.

"That was Jackson," Veronica explained, noting the confused faces of the BAU team members, "Dr Jackson Avery, he works here too, but he was stuck at the gala - we were having this fundraiser for this hospital...stupid...."

"V! I just heard; why didn't you tell me?" Cristina burst into the gallery in a similar fashion to Jackson, "I had to hear from freaking Avery that your sexy FBI boyfriend got shot?" she berated as she sat down next to Veronica.

Veronica shrugged, "Jackson was there when I got the call. You were busy turning up the charm for that rich old sleaze."

Cristina shoved her lightly, "I'll have you know that rich old sleaze donated 1.5 million dollars to this hospital," she said smugly.

"Show off," Veronica grunted, folding her arms over her chest.

Cristina stood up to peer through the glass, "supervisory sexy agent, has Owen and Teddy working on him? You need to calm down and stop chewing your nails; he'll be fine."

Veronica rolled her eyes, "you need to stop calling my boyfriend supervisory sexy agent, or you'll be the one on the table."

"Aw, come on, I'm kidding! My husband is right down there...oh my god, my husband saves your boyfriend from a GSW? That'll be such a good story for me to tell your kids."

"Can we wait to see if he makes it off the table before we start discussing our hypothetical children?"

"Boring."

Jackson returned at that moment, "sorry, I didn't know your scrub size, so I just guessed. And you didn't have any shoes in your locker, so I stole some sneakers from April, you're the same size, and she won't mind - I also brought you some of her makeup wipes," he rambled, handing her the pile of clothes.

"Stealing shoes from your ex-wife now?" Cristina teased as Jackson sat down on the other side of Veronica, "I thought pretty boy Avery was rich enough to buy his own," she cooed.

Veronica stood up and slid the scrub pants on under her dress, and pulled the scrub top over the top. Cristina unzipped her dress, and she let out a deep breath as the pressure on her rib cage was released; she shimmied the dress off and threw it over an empty chair.

"Shut up, Yang," Jackson grunted.

"Children, behave," Veronica said warningly as she slipped on the socks and shoes she was borrowing from April.

Veronica sat back down and finished wiping off the makeup that hadn't been flushed away by her tears. Jackson gripped her hand tight in his, and she smiled appreciatively at him; Cristina gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"Guys, what if he dies?" she whispered as they watched Teddy and Owen work away on Spencer.

"He won't," Jackson protested, "he didn't code in the field, and the majority of GSW victims without penetrating vascular injuries survive if they get to a hospital on time."

"There is a bullet in his chest cavity! That is a penetrating injury," she blubbered.

"But it didn't directly damage his heart or any major arteries; yes, they could be weakened by force, but he's been in surgery for hours, and nothing has ruptured – plus after they close him up, we'll monitor him closely, and he will be okay," he said with a squeeze of her hand.

"Avery's right. It's far more likely he'll be a vegetable or something," Cristina shrugged.

"Yang! His best friends are right behind you," Jackson hissed.

"They are?" Cristina said, whipping her head around, "oh, hi."

Cristina gave them a wave, and they stared back dumbfounded.

"Who the hell are these people?" Emily hissed.

"I don't know, but they seem to think that Spence is gonna be okay, and that's all that matters to me," JJ answered.

"He could still die; people die from GSWs all the time. There could be complications, he could get an infection-"

"Look, Veronica, if the worst happens, then we can cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? And you know we'll all be here for you, no matter what," Jackson said, and Veronica smiled appreciatively at him.

"Thank you," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Y'know, you should've married him when you had the chance - cos' if he dies and you were his wife, you'd get that life insurance. If he dies now, you'll just be poor and sad."

"Cristina!"

"No, it's okay," Veronica said with a slight smile, "it helps."

"God, talk about a dark sense of humour...."

"I think I'm just still drunk," Cristina shrugged.

"I think I'm hungover already; my head is killing me," Veronica groaned, massaging her temples.

"Want me to get you a banana bag?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, why not."

Jackson stood up and made his way across the gallery and to the door; he turned back to face the BAU team members, "can I get anything for you guys? Coffee, water…I wouldn't recommend the food, but we got vending machines."

"No, thank you," Hotch answered politely, "anyone else?"

The rest of the team shook their heads or mumbled no thank-yous in response. Jackson gave them a sympathetic smile before leaving; JJ's stare was still firmly fixed on Veronica.

"What did she mean? You should've married him when you had the chance?" she asked.

"It means that supervisory sexy agent-"

"Cristina!"

"Fine, Spencer, asked V to marry him, and she said no cos' she can't let herself be happy."

"That isn't why I said no, and you know it."

"Well, no. But your real reason is stupid, so I'm gonna say it's your self-destructive tendencies instead. Do you know what I've give to never have to interact with Owen's dumb work friends? You're getting the best of both worlds here."

"You work in the same hospital! Owen's dumb work friends are your colleagues."

"Ugh, whatever."

"You turned Reid down because of us?" Rossi questioned, speaking for the first time since they had entered the gallery.

"It's a bit more complicated than that-"

"What's wrong with us? You didn't even meet us until today?" JJ snapped.

Veronica sighed and picked at her nails; her first interaction with Spencer's friends already wasn't going very well, and now she had to tread lightly as to not offend anyone.

"That's the problem; it took Spencer getting shot in the chest for us to meet because he refused to tell you about me; how could I marry someone when I'd never even met his friends? It's what we argue about more than anything else. We argued about it this morning actually...."

The blood drained away from Veronica's face as the events of the day flashed through her mind.

She turned to face Cristina, "oh God, we were arguing this morning about it, and again when I dropped his phone off at work - the last conversation we ever had was about that stupid argument. What if he dies thinking that I'm pissed off at him? I didn't even tell him I loved him before I stormed off," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well, he's a profiler, right? Even if you didn't say it, he would be able to tell...."

"He's a genius, not a psychic, Cristina."

"She's right," Derek interjected, "before he lost consciousness, he told me to call you and tried to say something else; he kept saying tell her... he never got to finish, but I'm sure it was just that he loved you."

"He really said that?"

Derek nodded, and a weight was lifted from Veronica's shoulders, although she quickly felt uneasy again when Jackson returned, IV kit and banana bag in hand.

"Okay, I know you don't like needles, but it'll make you feel better, so give me your arm," he demanded.

Veronica huffed and begrudgingly gave him her arm; she winced as he pushed the needle through her skin, "ow! I thought plastic surgeons were supposed to have a gentle touch."

"Plastics is barely even a real speciality; Avery gives boob jobs on the daily – we do real surgeries and save lives."

"Hey! I'm also a qualified ENT, and I practically run the burn unit-"

"Guys," Veronica groaned, "can you have your little dick-measuring-contest another time? Maybe like when my boyfriend isn't lying open on an operating table?" she said, gently massaging the tender skin around her IV.

"You said you liked my dark humour!"

"Only when it's funny," she sat down again and massaged her temples "hey, I think they're nearly done," Veronica cheered.

She dashed over to the intercom, "Are you guys closing him up?"

Teddy nodded, "yeah, and then we'll be taking him up to the CCU. You should get some rest before he wakes up," she advised.

"He's going to be okay, Veronica," Owen said; she couldn't see his face under his mask, but she could tell he was smiling.

Veronica couldn't fight the grin spreading across her own face; Spencer was going to live. He was going to make it off the table. Now all she had to do was pray that he woke up because Veronica didn't know how she would cope if she never saw his eyes again.

"He's really going to be okay?" JJ whispered; she held her hands up to her lips in a prayer formation as fresh tears spilt over onto her cheeks.

Emily pulled her into a tight embrace and stroked her hair, "Hey, don't cry. The doctor said he's going to be okay."

She nodded against Emily's chest, "I know, these are happy tears – it's just I've been sitting here for the past four hours wondering what I would tell Henry if his Uncle Spence died and now, he's going to be okay, and I'm crying more than when I thought he was going to die…stupid," she mumbled.

"It's not stupid," Veronica offered kindly, "your body has been in panic mode and how that you're finally able to relax a bit, you get an emotional outburst that makes you cry – it's totally normal," she said, tentatively reaching out her hand to take JJ's.

She nodded and gave Veronica's hand a squeeze, smiling at her for the first time since they had met. The mood in the room had shifted as the BAU members slowly began to accept that their teammate was going to live, and the nervous tension began to dissipate.

"Teddy's going to close him up and then wheel him up to the CCU, Cristina are you staying or coming home?" Owen's voice echoed through the intercom.

"I'm staying obviously!" she said indignantly.

Veronica shook her head, "no, it's okay, you go home."

"V, I can't leave you here-"

"It's fine, Cristina. You're working in the morning, and you'll need to be here for rounds at 6am, and you won't be any use to anyone if you're sleep-deprived. So, go home. Besides, I've got Avery to keep me company."

Cristina gave her an appreciative smile and squeezed her hand one last time before she left the room. A wave of jealousy surged in Veronica's chest as Cristina disappeared from her line of sight; it wasn't her fault that she was going home with her husband whilst Spencer was being stitched back together. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"I'm so sorry, V," Jackson said, holding up his phone, "it's one of my burn patients, she's got an infection, and I think I'm the only sober attending after the gala…I can send a resident-"

"No, no, it's okay," she smiled sadly, "go and help your patient; she needs you more than I do."

"Page me if you need anything," he said, kissing her forehead gently before leaving her alone with the BAU team.

She was in a room with seven other people, but she had never felt more alone. They were clutching onto each other, whispering amongst themselves and smiling; Veronica didn't have anyone.

She shuffled away from the displays of affection and picked up her dress and shoes, "I'm going to put this stuff in the attending's lounge, there's coffee in there if you want anything – and on-call room seven is always empty if any of you need to sleep. He won't be awake for a while; you should get some rest," she said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

"Thank you, Veronica," Derek said; he nodded over Garcia's head as he held her in his arms, "I don't think any of us will get much sleep until pretty boy wakes up, though."

Veronica laughed, "pretty boy, I always thought he was exaggerating when he said you called him that. If you don't want to sleep, that's fine, but you can't stay in here – the interns like to hang out in here before pre-rounds, and they'll be here soon," she said before gripping onto her IV pole and swiftly exiting the gallery.

Tears burned in her eyes as she made her way to the attending's lounge, grabbing a replacement banana bag from the nurse's station on her way; Spencer was going to be okay. He was going to wake up and have his team to comfort him, fetch him jello, keep him company through the recovery and bring homemade meals to his apartment. What else could she do for him that they couldn't?

She burst into the attending's lounge and slammed the door shut behind her. She let out a heart-wrenching sob as she shoved the dress into her locker, growing frustrated and kicking it when the poufy, underlayers of the skirt wouldn't fit.

Maybe that's why he had never introduced her to the team because he already had seven people who loved him unconditionally and could give him all the love he needed. And Spencer didn't want her to know that; what could she do for him that they couldn't?

Veronica darted into the bathroom and held her own hair bag as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Maybe she was just a fuck to Spencer, an outlet to release his frustrations after a hard day. Assuming he wasn't fucking any of his teammates, that was the only thing she was good for that they couldn't give.

Derek said that his last words before he passed out were about her; he asked him to call her. He tried to give her a message – why did Veronica not share Derek's confidence that the message was I love you?

She flushed the toilet and washed her mouth out with water from the tap. Her headache was beginning to subside, but she still switched out her banana bag before she limped out of the bathroom, using the IV pole as a support.

Veronica threw herself onto the couch. She wanted to scream, or kick something else or rip her own hair out, but she simply didn't have the energy to do anything except shut her eyes and drift off to sleep. The image of Spencer's open chest cavity and the knowledge that his team were everything she was and more burned into her brain.

***

Spencer's brain was awake before his body was. He was acutely aware of people moving around his room, but their voices were muffled, and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to see who they were.

There was a tight sensation in his throat, and suddenly, Spencer started gagging violently.

"He's fighting the intubation!" a voice called out, "page Dr Altman."

Dr Altman. He knew that name, he thought to himself. But his brain was still too hazy from the anaesthesia to think straight. Dr Altman…something to do with cardiothoracic surgery – probably one of his doctors. But where had they met before?

He felt hands all over him, grabbing at his neck and face; there was a horrible scraping sensation in his throat, and then he could breathe freely again. He's fighting the intubation, the voice had said. That was good; that meant he was breathing on his own.

However, he couldn't appreciate the joy of knowing he wouldn't be hooked to a ventilator for the rest of his life whilst his throat ached like that. The tube had been removed, but he still felt his gag reflex at the threshold of triggering.

He really needed to get Veronica more credit for that.

His limbs were heavy, he tried to at least wriggle his fingers, but they wouldn't move. The muffled voices which echoed around him were beginning to become clearer; he could make out what sounded to be JJ's voice by his head.

Finally, his brain allowed his eyes to flicker open. But he immediately wanted to screw them shut again when the blinding fluorescent glare of the ceiling lights shone down on him.

"Oh my god," JJ gasped, "he's awake!"

He couldn't move his head to see her, but her worried face quickly appeared in front of his, "Spencer? Spencer, can you hear me?" she asked frantically.

"Ow," he mumbled in response.

"Thank God you're okay," she said, stroking his hair as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You gave us a scare, pretty boy."

Spencer strained his eyes enough to see Derek standing in the corner; he leant against the wall with his arms folded tight across his chest, but Spencer could clearly see the grin he was fighting.

"What happened?" he groaned, trying to readjust his body into a more comfortable position.

"Hey, don't try and move," JJ scolded lightly, "the nurse said that you'll be groggy from the anaesthesia for a while," she took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

"Did we get him? The unsub?"

"Yeah, don't you worry about him, kid, he's going away for a long time," Derek reassured, "he got a shot in at you before we could take him down… I'm so sorry, kid, you fell, and it distracted me long enough for him to shot you before I could shoot him."

"Hey, it's not your fault," JJ said, "it could've happened to any of us."

Spencer nodded in agreement but didn't try and speak again; his head was throbbing, and he closed her eyes again, the darkness providing some brief relief from the brilliant light above his head. But with every passing second, Spencer became increasingly aware of the dull aches in his chest and abdomen, the pain growing sharper with each intake of breath.

"How many times did I get shot?" he groaned, "I can't remember anything…but my whole body hurts."

JJ bit her lip as she continued to stroke his hair, "just once, Spence, but you fell down the stairs just before you got him and it injured…something, I don't know what – I can't remember what she said," JJ looked over to Derek for a prompt, but he shook his head in response.

"Hey, don't look at me; I didn't understand a single word any of those doctors said," Derek shrugged, "Dr Altman is coming to check on you, though, kid. I'm sure she'll explain it all to you."

Dr Teddy Altman!

They met at Cristina and Owen's wedding; Spencer could tell she was in love with the groom and distracted her with a rant on Mechanical Complications of Acute Myocardial Infarction. She was Veronica's friend.

Oh god, Veronica. She must be so worried – if Derek had even called her that was, she might be oblivious to his condition. Spencer was ready to open his mouth to as about her, but JJ was already speaking again before he had the chance.

"…and our resident genius will definitely be able to understand better than us," she said, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead, "I've never been so nervous as when we were sitting in that gallery, thank god those doctors fixed you up."

"Wait, what gallery?" Spencer asked, opening his eyes to squint at her, her words distracting him long enough to forget to ask about Veronica.

JJ paused and exchanged a look with Derek, "we hoped you wouldn't mind – we were in the OR gallery during your surgery, but we didn't actually see anything," she reassured, "none of us could actually bring ourselves to watch, but we just wanted to be there, in case anything happened to you."

"Not that we'd have been much help," Derek chuckled, "but I got you to the hospital in one piece. I wasn't about to let you out of my sight until you were stable."

Spencer nodded slowly, "how did you even get in there?" he mumbled.

"Veronica," Derek said, "you asked me to call her, and she came straight over, but she wasn't about to sit around in any waiting room, so she found out where you were…we just followed her up there."

Spencer tugged on his blanket, "so…you met her then?"

JJ nodded stiffly, "we did."

"Oh. Suppose I did ask you to call her, I don't know what I expected…."

"We didn't get a chance to talk much," Derek said carefully, "you were touch-and-go a bit in surgery, so it was a bit too tense for small talk."

JJ moved away from him and sat back in the chair next to his bed; she picked at her nails, "I don't get why you never told us about her, Spence?"

Spencer didn't answer her. This was not how he wanted this conversation to go; in fact, he was hoping he'd never have to have this conversation at all. The rational part of his brain knew that was unrealistic, but the rational part of his brain didn't seem to exist when it came to protecting Veronica.

He shrugged, "I didn't think you guys needed to know."

Derek unfolded his arms and moved out of the corner, coming to rest at the end of Spencer's bed, "didn't need to know? You've been making excuses about this to me all day, kid. And I'm not buying the - you wanted to have something to yourself - bullshit anymore-"

"You asked her to marry you," JJ said, her voice cracking slightly, "you wanted her to be your wife, but you didn't even tell us about her? Were you just going to get married without any of us there?"

"She told you that?"

Spencer had the strength to ball one of his fists; this was going horribly. The tension he had created in his hand spread up his arm and along to his chest. He grimaced as another sharp stab of pain rippled across his body.

JJ shook her head, "no, her friend mentioned it, and we overheard. I don't get it, Spence, we're supposed to be like family, and she…we didn't get to talk, but she seems nice. And she's a doctor – she's smart like you, and she obviously loves you. Did you think we wouldn't like her?"

"No, and she said no to me anyway, so it doesn't matter…."

"She only said no because you wouldn't introduce her to us," Derek stated bluntly, "that's what she said when we asked her about it and considering I didn't even know she existed till this morning, I can't say that I blame her."

"Guys, I will explain later, I promise," Spencer began as he tried to sit up in the bed, "but I need to talk to Veronica. Right now – where is she?"

"She is in a patient room down the hall," Dr Altman said as she waltzed into the room and picked up Spencer's chart from the end of his bed, "nice to see you awake, Dr Reid."

"A patient room – i-is she okay?" Spencer stammered.

Teddy peered over the chart to look at his concerned face, "she'll be fine, she's just dehydrated and a bit hungover – we've got her on an IV. Besides, the couch in the attending's lounge is not the place you want to sleep unless you want to give yourself scoliosis."

Spencer tried to move one of his legs, "I need to go see her, I need to explain everything, I-"

"You need to lay back down," Teddy said as she moved over to his bedside and pressed her stethoscope against his chest, "I need to listen to your chest, take a deep breath for me-"

Spencer begrudgingly breathed in.

"-breath sounds are clear and equal, that's a good sign," Teddy said, hanging the stethoscope back around her neck, "and your latest round of labs are all within normal limits. Dr Hunt and I were able to remove all the bullet fragments during surgery, we were concerned that the impact could've weakened the wall of your thoracic aorta, but it seems unaffected."

Spencer nodded, "okay."

“We had to convert to an exploratory laparotomy mid-surgery; you had some bleeding in your abdomen which we needed to repair; that's why you have two incision sites. They will likely leave scars, I'm afraid, but the abdominal bleeding triggered a condition called DIC and would have been fatal had we not caught the bleeders."

Spencer's brain was spinning. He knew he had been in bad shape, but he really nearly died. He needed to talk to Veronica, and fast.

"…it was actually Veronica who made the connection between your fall and the bleeding. She wasn't even operating, and she saved your life," Teddy smiled at him, "I just need to take a peek at your incision sites, and then I'll be out of your hair."

Spencer winced as she lifted up his bandages to take a closer look.

"Okay, they look all good and no signs of infection. You will need at least another day for observation; I'll get the nurse to administer your post-op antibiotics, so let her know if there's anything else you need."

"He won't admit it, but he's in pain. Can he get any more morphine or something?" JJ asked, biting her nail.

"What? No, I'm fine. I don't need any more painkillers; I'm all good!"

Teddy raised an eyebrow at him, "you just had major surgery, but you don't want more pain meds?" she asked sceptically, "you aren't maxed out on anything; I can order more-"

"No," Spencer snapped, "I mean…no thank you, Dr Altman. They make me too disoriented, and I need to be clear-headed when I talk to Veronica," he said, adjusting his tone.

Teddy gave him one last suspicious look before she moved back towards the door, "okay, no more pain meds. I'll let Veronica know you're awake," she said before exiting the room, closing the sliding glass door behind her.

Spencer let out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed back into his pillows slightly. Even the brief conversation with Dr Altman had left him exhausted, so he wasn't sure how he would manage when the rest of the team flocked to his bedside to question him about his condition and Veronica.

Veronica.

That was going to be a long conversation.

JJ and Derek stayed by his side as the nurse came in to administer his antibiotics, just as Dr Altman had said.

"Hotch and Rossi had to go sort some things out with the arrest," Derek had informed him, "they said they'll stop by later when they can."

"And Emily and Garcia are in the cafeteria, we've let them know you're awake, but we didn't want to overwhelm you with too many visitors at once," JJ explained, "and Garcia really needed some sugar. She's been freaking out, Emily's trying to get her to eat something," she chuckled.

"I feel bad I caused all this stress…." Spencer mumbled.

"Course we're worried about you, Spence; we're a family. But you didn't cause us stress; it's not your fault," JJ reassured; she leaned closer to Spencer to grip his hand in hers.

"Exactly, it's the unsub's fault. You didn't choose to get shot," Derek added; he shuffled over to the bed from his corner and took hold of Spencer's other hand.

The three of them sat in comfortable and heartfelt silence for a few moments with their hands intertwined until they were interrupted by a hesitant voice in the doorway.

"Uh, sorry, I did mean to interrupt. I'll come back later…."

part 3 coming soon

sorry there’s not too much spencer in this part, i promise there will be more in part 3 when veronica and spencer have their confrontation

if you enjoyed this please consider leaving a comment as it really keeps me motivated, and reblogging! i really appreciate likes but on the tumblr reblogs are the only way to get my work out there x

tagging anyone who commented on part 1, message me/ comment if you want to be tagged for part 3:

@dilaurantisbitch

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