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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

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Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

#Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Fem Reader #Freddy Krueger #Loretta Krueger #Katherine Krueger #Kathrine Krueger #Maggie Burroughs #Oneshot #Freddy Krueger x Reader Oneshot

56 notes · View notes

snake-rot · 3 years

Note

(EXCLAIMING)

(ORCHESTRA MUSIC BLARING)

(GROANS)

(WHIMPERS)

(GRUNTING)

(MYSTICAL INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(GROANS)

(COUNTRY ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(COUGHS)

Sweet home Alabama

Where the skies are so blue

WOMAN: Excuse me, sir, is there a commode?

Sweet home Alabama

(GRUNTING)

Lord, I'm coming home to you

(GRUNTS) Justin!

Quick, honey, take my picture. I got the pyramid in my hand.

(CAMERA CLICKING)

Yeah

Justin, you get back here right now!

No, stop!

GUARD 1: No, no, no! Stop him! GUARD 2: Go back! Don't climb!

(JUSTIN IMITATING AIRPLANE WHOOSHING)

Wait, wait.

Hold on. Easy, little boy.

Okay, stop, child! Stop right there. No!

(GASPS)

No, no, no, no, no! Oh! There he goes.

(GASPS)

Justin!

I've got him! I've got him!

(JUSTIN GRUNTS)

(AIR ESCAPING)

Outrage in Egypt tonight as it was discovered

that the Great Pyramid of Giza had been stolen

and replaced by a giant inflatable replica.

There is panic throughout the globe as countries and citizens

try to protect their beloved landmarks.

Law enforcement still has no leads,

leaving everyone to wonder, which of the world's villains

is responsible for this heinous crime?

And where will he strike next?

Gru: Freeze ray! Freeze ray! Freeze ray! [laughs evilly] Fred: Morning, Gru! How you doing? Gru: Hello, Fred. FYI, your dog has been leaving little bombs all over my yard, and I don't appreciate it. Fred: Sorry. You know dogs. They go wherever they wanna go. Gru: Unless they're dead. [laughs] I'm joking! Although, it is true. Anyway, have a good one. Fred: Okay. Yeah. Steamrolling whatever Gru: [groans] You've got to be pulling on my leg! Margo: Hello! Cookies for sale. Gru: Go away. I'm not home. Margo: Uh, yes, you are. I heard you. Gru: [gasps] No, you didn't. This... [monotone] is a recording. Margo: [scoffs] No, it isn't. Gru: Yes, it is. [o.s.] Watch this. Leave a message, beep. [Edith kicks the door] Gru: Ow! Agnes: Goodbye, recorded message. Margo: [o.s.] Agnes, come on. Gru: Huh? [screams] Kyle! Bad dog! No! No, no. Sit. My muffin. Dr. Nefario: Gru! Gru: Ah, Dr. Nefario. Dr. Nefario: I know how you must be feeling. I, too, have encountered great disappointment, but, in my eyes, you will always be one of the greats. Gru: What? What happened? Dr. Nefario: It's all over the news! Some fella just stole a pyramid. They're saying he makes all other villains look... lame. pause Gru: Assemble the minions! [throws Kyle off of his arm] Minions, assemble! Minion: Okay. Okay. Hey! Gru: Looking good, Kevin! How is the family? Good? All right. That's my Billy boy! What up, Larry? Hello, everybody! Yeah, all right! Simmer down. Simmer down! Thank you, okay. Now, I realize that you guys probably heard about this other villain who stole the pyramids. Apparently, it's a big deal. People are calling it the crime of the century and stuff like that. But am I upset? No, I am not! A little, but we have had a pretty good year ourselves, and you guys are all right in my book. Minion: Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Gru: No, no raises! You're not going to get any raises. What did we do? Well, we stole the Times Square JumboTron! Nice! That's how I roll. Yeah, you all like watching football on that, huh? But that's not all. We stole the Statue of Liberty, the small one from Las Vegas. And I won't even mention the Eiffel Tower! Also Vegas. Okay, I wasn't going to tell you about this yet, but I have been working on something very big! Something that will blow this pyramid thing out of the water! And thanks to the efforts of my good friend Dr. Nefario... Dr. Nefario: Thank you! Gru: There he is. He's stylin'. Now, we have located a shrink ray in a secret lab, and once we take this shrink ray, we will have the capability to pull off the 'true crime of the century. We are going to steal... The Minions all pull out their weapons in response. Gru: Wait, wait! I haven't told you what it is yet. One of the Minions, Dave, shoots his rocket launcher at a crowd of Minions. Gru: Hey. Dave, listen up, please! Dave: Ditto. One of the Minions Dave shot walks over to him and punches him on the shoulder. Gru: Next, we are going to steal, pause for effect, the moon! The Minions cheer in response. Gru: And once the moon is mine, the world will give me whatever I want to get it back! And I will be the greatest villain of all time! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. [picks up his phone] Yes? Dr. Nefario: Hello, Gru? I've been crunching some numbers, and I really don't see how we can afford this. It can't be done. I'm not a miracle worker. Gru:Hey, chillax. I'll just get another loan from the bank. They love me! Margo: Edith, stop it! Edith: What? I'm just walking. Girls: Hi, Miss Hattie. We're back. Miss Hattie: Hello, girls! Agnes: Anybody come to adopt us while we were out? Miss Hattie: Hmm... Let me think. No! Edith immediately puts a mud pie on Miss Hattie's desk, much to her displeasure. Miss Hattie: Edith! What did you put on my desk? Edith: A mud pie. Miss Hattie: [sighs] You're never gonna get adopted, Edith. You know that, don't you? Edith: Yeah, I know. Miss Hattie: Good. So, how did it go, girls? Did we meet our quotas? Margo: Hmm... Sorta. We sold 43 mini-mints, 30 choco-swirlies and 18 coco-nutties. Miss Hattie: [gets up] Okay.

Well, you say that like it's a great sale day. [furious] Look at my face! Do you still think it's a great sale day? Edith rolls her eyes in response. Miss Hattie: [hangs up a portrait] Eighteen coco-nutties. I think we can do a little better than that, don't you? Yeah. We wouldn't want to spend the weekend in the Box of Shame, would we? No. Girls: No, Miss Hattie. Miss Hattie: Okay, good. Off you go. Go clean something of mine. Girls: Hi, Penny. Penny: Hi, guys. Gru: Hello, Mom. Sorry, I meant to call, but... Gru's Mom: I just wanted to congratulate you on stealing the pyramid. [Gru sighs in disgust] That was you, wasn't it? Or was it a villain who's actually successful? [laughs] Gru: Just so you know, Mom, I am about to do something that's very, very big, very important. When you hear about it, you're going to be very proud. Gru's Mom: Ha! [sarcastically] Good luck with that. Okay, I'm outta here. [hangs up the phone before sending her karate instructor flying] Gru: Gru to see Mr Perkins Receptionist: Yes, please have a seat. Neil Armstrong: That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Young Gru: Ma, someday I'm going to go to the moon. Gru's Mom: I'm afraid you're too late, Son. NASA isn't sending the monkeys any more. Vector: Hey. I'm applying for a new villain loan. Go by the name of Vector. It's a mathematical term, a quantity represented by an arrow, with both direction and magnitude. Vector! That's me, 'cause I'm committing crimes with both direction and magnitude. Oh, yeah! Check out my new weapon. Piranha gun! Oh, yes! Fires live piranhas. Ever seen one before? No, you haven't. I invented it. Do you want a demonstration? Shoot! So difficult, sometimes, to get the piranha back inside of my... Receptionist: Mr Gru, Mr Perkins will see you now. Gru: So, all I need is money from the bank to build a rocket. And then, the moon is ours. Perkins: Wow! Well, very nice presentation. I'd like to see this shrink ray. Gru: Absolutely! Will do. Soon as I have it. Perkins: You don't have it? And yet you have the audacity to ask the bank for money? Gru: Apparently. Perkins: Do you have any idea of the capital that this bank has invested in you, Gru? With far too few of your sinister plots actually turning a profit. How can I put it? Let's say this apple is you. If we don't start getting our money back... Get the picture? Look, Gru, the point is, there are a lot of new villains out there, younger than you, hungrier than you, younger than you. Like that young fellow out there named Vector. He just stole a pyramid! Gru: I've got it. I've got it. So, as far as getting money for the rocket... Perkins: Get the shrink ray, then we'll talk. Minion: Suckers! Suckers! Gru: We got it! What? Hey! Hey! What! Hey! No, no, no! You! Vectors: Now, maybe you'll think twice before you freeze someone's head! So long, Gru! Gru: Quick! We can't let him get away! Up ahead! Up ahead! Fire! Fire, now! Vector: You missed me! Gru: Come to papa! Take that. Vector: How adorable. Gru: Got you in our sights! Like taking candy from a... What? Vector: Hey, Gru! Try this on for size! Gru: That's weird. What is going... This is claustrophobic! No, no, no! Too small! This is too small for me! [groans] I hate that guy. Margo: ...and please watch over us, and bless that we'll have a good night's sleep. Edith: And bless that while we're sleeping, no bugs will crawl into our ears and lay eggs in our brains. Margo: Great. Thanks for that image, Edith. Agnes: And please bless that someone will adopt us soon, and that the mommy and daddy will be nice and have a pet unicorn. Amen. Margo/Edith: Amen. Agnes: Unicorns, I love them Unicorns, I love them Uni, uni, unicorns I love them Uni, unicorns, I could pet one If they were really real And they are So, I bought one so I could pet it Now it loves me Now I love it Gru: Don't you... What the... Good luck, little girls! Edith: Whoa! Cool. Margo: Hi! We're orphans from Miss Hattie's Home for Girls. Vector: I don't care. Beat it! Margo: Come on! We're selling

cookies so, you know, we can have a better future. Vector: Wait, wait! Do you have coco-nutties? Margo: Yeah. Gru: Light bulb. Dr Nefario! I'm going to need a dozen tiny robots disguised as cookies! Dr. Nefario: What? Gru: Cookie robots! Dr. Nefario: Who is this? - Gru: Oh, forget it. Mrs. Hattie: Well, it appears you have cleared our background check, Dr Gru. And I see you have made a list of some of your personal achievements. Thank you for that. I love reading. And I see you have been given the Medal of Honor and a knighthood. - Minions: Me, me, me. Me, me, me. Minion: Kevin? Mrs. Hattie: You had your own cooking show and you can hold your breath for 30 seconds? It's not that impressive. Minion: Idiot! - Minions: Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Mrs Hattie: What in the name of... What? Gru: Well, here's the dealio. Things have been so lonely since my wife, Debbie, passed on. It's like my heart is a tooth, and it's got a cavity that can only be filled with children. I'm sorry. You are a beautiful woman. Do you speak Spanish? Mrs. Hattie: Do I look like I speak Spanish? Gru: You have a face como un burro. Mrs. Hattie: Well, thank you! Gru: Anyway, can we proceed with this adoption? So, so excited! Mrs. Hattie: Please tell Margo, Edith and Agnes to come to the lobby. Margo: I bet the mom is beautiful! Edith: I bet the daddy's eyes sparkle. Agnes: I bet their house is made of Gummi Bears. [Edith and Margo look at her curiously] I'm just saying it'd be nice. [picks up a Cheeto] Aww. My caterpillar never turned into a butterfly. Edith: That's a Cheeto. Agnes: Oh... [eats said Cheeto, making Edith and Margo recoil in disgust] Miss Hattie: Well, Debbie was a very lucky woman. [pause] Gru: Who's Debbie? Mrs Hattie: Your wife. Hi, girls! Girls, I want you to meet Mr Gru. He's going to adopt you. And he's a dentist! Agnes: Yeah! Margo: Hi. I'm Margo. This is Edith. And that's Agnes. Agnes: [sing-song] I got your leg, I got your leg! Gru: Okay, that is enough, little girl. Let go of my leg. Come on. You can do it. Agnes: Higher! Higher! Gru: Just release your grip. Wow! How do you remove them? Is there a command? Some nonstick spray? Crowbar? [sighs] Okay, girls, let's go. [They drove off in the distance.]Vector: Uh-huh! Oh, yeah! Pretty impressive! What are you looking at? Boo-ya! You got shrunk, tiny mouthwash! Take that! You done been shrunk! (His phone rings) Yello? I got the shrink ray, all right. No, I'm not playing with it. Gru? Don't make me laugh! No. P.S., he is not getting the moon, and P.P.S., by the time I'm done with him, he's gonna be begging for mercy. (Shrinks a toilet) Okay, bye. (Hangs up) Look at you, a little tiny toilet for a little tiny baby to... [The toilet pops out and water sprays him.]Vector: Curse you, tiny toilet! [Gru and the Girls arrive at Gru's Home.] Gru: "Okay, here we are. Home sweet home. Margo: So... This is, like, your house? [realizing] Wait a sec... You're the guy who pretended he was a recorded message! Gru: No, that was someone else. [Margo gives a skeptical look before she, Edith and Agnes enter Gru's house, with Gru following suite.] Agnes: [scared] Can I hold your hand? Gru: Uh... No. Edith: [looks around] When we got adopted by a bald guy, I thought this'd be more like "Annie". Gru: No, hey! [screams] Kyle, these are not treats. These are guests. Girls, this is Kyle, my... Dog. Kyle snarls in anger. Agnes: Ooh! Fluffy doggy! [approaches Kyle before he runs away, much to her disappointment] Margo: What kind of dog is that? Gru: He is a... I don't know. Margo: Do you really think that this is an appropriate place for little kids? 'Cause, uh... It's not. [Edith sees a closet that is sharp and goes in it.] Gru: No! No! Stay away from there! It's frag... [He sees juice spilling on the floor.]Both: (Gasps) Gru: Well, I suppose the plan will work with two. Edith: [muffled] Hey! It's dark in here. [Gru opens the iron maiden, revealing Edith, who spits out a straw]Edith: It poked a hole in my juice box. [They went to the

kitchen.] Gru: As you can see, I have provided everything a child might need. All right. Okay. As I was saying... (Edith knocked a bottle down) Gru: (Cont'd) Hey! Oh. Edith: Somebody broke that. Gru: "Okay, okay. Clearly, we need to set some rules. Rule number one. You will not touch anything. Margo: Uh-huh. What about the floor? Gru: Yes, you may touch the floor. Margo: What about the air? Gru: Yes, you may touch the air! Edith: (Gets out a laser gun) What about this? Gru: (Screams) Where did you get that? Edith: [shrugs] Found it. Gru: Okay. Rule number two. You will not bother me while I'm working. Rule number three. You will not cry or whine or laugh or giggle or sneeze or burp or fart! So, no, no, no annoying sounds. All right? Agnes: Does this count as annoying? [popping] Gru: Very! [sighs] I will see you in six hours. Margo: Okay, don't worry. Everything's going to be fine. We're gonna be really happy here. Right? Agnes? Gru: Question. What are these? Dr. Nefario: A dozen boogie robots! Boogie! Look at this. Watch me! Gru: Cookie robots. I said cookie robots. Why are you so old? Dr. Nefario: Okay. I'm on it. Margo: Hello? Agnes: TV! Margo: What is that? Edith: Whoa! That is cool! Come on! Agnes: I don't think he's a dentist.Dr. Nefario: We've been working on this for a while. It's a anti-gravity serum. I meant to close that. He'll be all right, I'm sure. Gru: Do the effects wear off? Dr. Nefario: So far, no. No, they don't. And here, of course, is the new weapon you ordered. Gru: No, no. I said "dart gun," not... Okay. Dr. Nefario: Oh, yes. 'Cause I was wondering under what circumstances would we use this? But, anyway. What I really wanted to show you was this. Gru: Now those are cookie robots! Agnes: La, la, la, la I love unicorns Gru: What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the kitchen! Margo: We got bored. What is this place? Edith: Can I drink this? Dr. Nefario: Do you want to explode? [Edith kicks him in the shin] Dr. Nefario: Gru! Gru: Get back in the kitchen! Agnes: Will you play with us? Gru: No. Agnes: Why? Gru: Because I'm busy. Margo: [scoffs] Doing what? Gru: Umm... Okay, okay, you got me. The dentist thing is more of a hobby. In real life, I am a spy. And it is top secret, and you may not tell anybody, because if you do... Edith: What does this do? [She fires a laser and it hits Agnes's unicorn and it burns to ashes]Gru: Hey! Edith: Whoops. Agnes: My unicorn! You have to fix it. Gru: Fix it? Look, it has been disintegrated. By definition, it cannot be fixed. [Agnes gasps in shock, then starts holding her breath] Gru: That's freaking me out. What is she doing? Margo: She's gonna hold her breath until she gets a new one. Gru: [sighs] It is just a toy. Now stop it! (Agnes faints) Gru: Okay, okay! I'll fix it! Tim! Mark! Phil! This is very important. You have to get the little girl a new unicorn toy. Gru: Hey, hey, hey! A toy! Go, and hurry! What are those? Gru: They are my... Cousins. Jerry! Stuart! Watch them and keep them away from me please. [The three minions put on a disguise and head to the store.]Minions: Wow!- Wow! [Meanwhile the two minions and the girls are tossing toilet paper at each other. Gru comes up and he sees the Girls and the two minions having fun.]Edith: It was your cousin's idea. Jerry: What? Gru: Okay, bedtime. Girls: Aww... Minions: Aww... Gru: Not you two! Minions: Yay. Gru: Okey-dokey. Beddie-bye. All tucked in. Sweet dreams. Margo: Just so you know, you're never gonna be my dad. Gru: I think I can live with that. Edith: Are these beds made out of bombs? Gru: Yes, but they are very old and highly unlikely to blow up. But try not to toss and turn. Edith: "Cool." Agnes: Will you read us a bedtime story?" Gru: No. Agnes: But we can't go to sleep without a bedtime story. Gru: Well, then it's going to be a long night for you, isn't it? So, good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite. Because there are literally thousands of them. And there's probably something in your closet. Margo: He's just kidding, Agnes. Agnes: It's beautiful. Gru: Girls, let's go.

Time to deliver the cookies! Margo: Okay. But first, we're going to dance class. Gru: Actually, we're going to have to skip the dance class today. Margo: Actually, we can't skip the dance class today. We have a big recital coming up. We're doing an excerpt from Swan Lake. Agnes: Yeah, Swan Lake! Gru: That's fantastic. Wonderful. But we're going to deliver cookies! Come on! Margo: No. Gru: No? Margo: We're not going to deliver cookies until we do dance class. Really? Gru: Well, I am not driving you to dance class. So if you want to go, you are going to have to walk yourselves. What are you doing? Margo: Walking to dance class. Gru: Ya? Okay, fine. You just keep walking, because I'm really not driving you! Margo: Okay. Gru: You're going to suffer the wrath of Gru! Seriously, I'm going to count to three! And you had better be in this car! Here we go! One! Two! Teacher: ...three, four and five. And lift, and stretch. And one, and two... Agnes: Here you go. Gru: What is it? Agnes: Your ticket to the dance recital. You are coming, right? Gru: Of course, of course. I have pins and needles that I'm sitting on. Agnes: Pinkie promise? Gru: Oh, yes. My pinkie promises. All right. Our first customer is a man named Vector. Margo: But he's a V. You know, we're supposed to start with the A's. Then we go to the B's. Then we... Gru: Yes, yes! I went to kindergarten. I know how the alphabet works! I was just thinking that it might be nice to deliver Mr Vector's first. That is all. Almost over. It's almost over. Vector: Girls, welcome back to the fortress of Vector-tude! Do you have my cookies for me? Margo: Four boxes of mini-mints, two toffee totes, two caramel clumpies and fifteen boxes of coco-nutties. Vector: Exactly. I'd like to see somebody else order that many cookies. Not likely. Name one person who ordered more cookies than me. Margo: That'll be $52. Vector: Right. Seven, eight, nine... Tic Tacs! Where was I? Seven, eight, nine... Agnes: Why are you wearing pyjamas? Vector: These aren't pyjamas! This is a warm-up suit. Edith: What are you warming up for? Vector: Stuff. Agnes: What sort of stuff? Vector: Super-cool stuff you wouldn't understand. Agnes: Like sleeping? Vector: They are not pyjamas! Here you go, 52 big ones. Bye! Gru: Come on! Vector: What the...? Quiet down, fish. Down, boy!Gru: [laughs] We did it! Come on, girls, let's go! Margo: But what about the other people who ordered cookies? Gru: Life is full of disappointments... For some people. [chuckles ominously] Agnes: (Screams) Gru: Don't do that! Agnes: Super Silly Fun Land! Can we go? Please? Gru: No. Edith: But we've never been. And it's the funnest place on earth! Gru: "Don't care." Girls: Please? Please? We'll never ask for anything else, ever again! Pretty please? Please? Come on! Come on! Gru: "Light bulb." Edith: Come on! Gru: "Goodbye, have fun. [He began to leave. But a attendant of the roller coaster stopped him.]Carnival Ride Worker: Sorry, dude. They can't ride without an adult. Gru: What? [groans] [Soon Gru gets sick from the roller coaster ride.]Agnes: Oh, my gosh! Look at that fluffy unicorn! He's so fluffy, I'm gonna die! Margo: You've gotta let us play for it! Gru: No, no, no. Agnes: Come on! Gru: How much for the fluffy unicorn?Carnival Barker: Well, it is not for sale. But all you gotta do to win it is knock down that little spaceship there. It's easy! Agnes: Yay! Again! Margo: Wait! Edith: Come on. One more time! Agnes: Just one more. I accidentally closed my eyes. I hit it! I hit it! Edith: That was cool. Awww. Gru: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What was that? She hit that. I saw that with my own eyes.Carnival Barker: Hey, buddy, let me explain something to you. You see that little tin spaceship? You see how it's not knocked over? Do you know what that means, professor? It means you don't get the unicorn! Somebody's got a frowny face. Boo! Better luck next time! Gru: Okay, my turn. [Gru uses a fire gun and it blows up the whole booth.]Gru: "Knocked over!" Agnes: It's so fluffy! Yeah! Margo: That was

awesome! Edith: You blew up the whole thing! Agnes: Let's go. Let's try another game!Dr. Nefario: Gru, do you mind if I have a quick word? Gru: Okay, girls, go play. I got the shrink ray! Cotton candy! Dr. Nefario: We have 12 days until the moon is in optimum position. We can't afford any distractions! Gru: Get me Perkins. Sorry to bother you, Mr Perkins, but I figured that you would want to see this! Mr. Perkins: What? Well done, Gru. Rather impressive.Gru: Now, the rest of the plan is simple. I fly to the moon. I shrink the moon. I grab the moon. I sit on the toi-let. What? (girls start laughing) Sorry. Sorry! Could you excuse me for just one second? I told you not to touch my things. I told you, I told you. I've told you a thousand times. Margo: Hey, can we order pizza? Gru: Pizza? You just had lunch. Edith: Not now, for dinner. Gru: Dinner? Just... Fine, fine, fine, whatever. Just get back in there! Margo: Can we get stuffed crust? Agnes and Jerry: Stuffed crust!Gru: I'll stuff you all in the crust! Agnes: [giggles] You're funny! Gru: Just don't come out of that room again! All right. Sorry about that. Where were we? Mr. Perkins: You were sitting on the toilet. Gru: No, no, no! No, I'm sorry. It was a little attempt at humor. I know how much you like to laugh... [Mr. Perkins glares at him] Inside. Eh, now, I was saying... [the door suddenly opens] You don't seem terribly focused, Gru. Believe me, I am completely focused. Right? Edith: Hello! Mr. Perkins: What? Edith: That guy is huge! Agnes: Are we on TV? Mr. Perkins: What are those? Children?Gru: What are you doing? I told you to stay out of here! No, no, no! *Agnes: Freeze ray!Mr. Perkins: Mr Gru? Gru: Okay. As I was saying... Mr. Perkins: No need to continue. I've seen quite enough. Gru: But my plan... Mr. Perkins: Is a great plan. I love everything about your plan, except for one thing. You. Young Gru: Look, Mom, I drew a picture of me landing on the moon! Look, Mom, I made a prototype of the rocket out of macaroni! Look, Mom, I made a real rocket based on the macaroni prototype! Gru: I don't understand. Mr. Perkins: Let's face reality, Gru. You've been at this for far too long with far too little success. We're gonna put our faith, our money, into a... Well, a younger villain. Gru: But I... Mr. Perkins: It's over. Goodbye, Gru. Gru: Now, I know there have been some rumours going around that the bank is no longer funding us. Well, I am here to put those rumours to rest. They are true. In terms of money, we have no money. So how will we get to the moon? The answer is clear. We won't. We are doomed. Now would probably be a good time to look for other employment options. I know. I have fired up my resume as I suggest that all of you do, as well. What is it? Can't you see that I am in the middle of a pep talk? Yes! Yes, we will build our own rocket using this and whatever else we can find! Grab everything! Hit the junkyards! Take apart the cars! Who needs the bank? Let's go. Let's go! Mom! What are you doing here? Gru's Mom: And here he is in the bathtub. Look at his little buns. Gru: Mom. Not cool. Gru's Mom: And here, he's all dressed up in his Sunday best. Margo: He looks like a girl! Gru's Mom: Yes, he does. An ugly girl! Agnes: You're funny! Edith: Yes! Mine's shaped like a dead guy! Receptionist: Mr. Perkins, your son is here. Mr. Perkins: Send him in. Vector: Hey, Dad. You wanted to see me? Mr. Perkins: Yes, I did, Victor. - Vector: I am not Victor anymore. Victor was my nerd name. Now I am Vector! Mr. Perkins: Sit down. Do you know where the shrink ray is? Vector: Duh! Back at my place. Mr. Perkins: Oh, is that right? Back at your place? That's cool. I guess Gru must just have one that looks exactly like it! Vector: What the...?! Those girls sold me cookies! Mr. Perkins: Do you have any idea how lucrative this moon heist could be? I give you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you just blow it! Vector: No, I didn't. Mr. Perkins: Oh, really?Vector: You just wait until Gru sees my latest weapon. Squid-launcher! Oh, yeah! Man:

There's a squid on my face!Vector: Don't worry. The moon is as good as ours. Gru: Come on now, it's bedtime. Did you brush your teeth? Let me smell. Let me smell. You did not! Put on your PGs. Hold still. Okay, seriously! Seriously! This is beddie-bye time, right now. I'm not kidding around. I mean it! Edith: But we're not tired! Gru: Well, I am tired. Agnes: Will you read us a bedtime story? [pause] Gru: No. Agnes: Pretty please? Gru: The physical appearance of the "please" makes no difference. It is still no, so go to sleep. Edith: But we can't. We're all hyper! Margo: And without a bedtime story, we'll just keep getting up and bugging you. All night long. Gru: [sighs] Fine. All right, all right. Sleepy Kittens. Sleepy Kittens? What are these? Agnes: Puppets. You use them when you tell the story. Gru: Okay, let's get this over with. "Three little kittens loved to play, they had fun in the sun all day. "Then their mother came out and said, 'Time for kittens to go to bed."' Wow! This is garbage. You actually like this? Agnes: Keep reading! Edith: Come on! Gru: All right, all right, all right. "Three little kittens started to bawl, "'Mommy, we're not tired at all.' "Their mother smiled and said with a purr, "'Fine, but at least you should brush your fur."' Edith: Now you brush the fur. Gru: This is literature? A 2-year-old could have written this. All right. "Three little kittens with fur all brushed "said, 'We can't sleep, we feel too rushed! ' "Their mother replied, with a voice like silk, "'Fine, but at least you should drink your milk."' Agnes: Now make them drink the milk. Gru: I don't like this book. This is going on forever. "Three little kittens, with milk all gone, rubbed their eyes and started to yawn. "'We can't sleep, we can't even try.' Then their mother sang a lullaby. "'Good night kittens, close your eyes. Sleep in peace until you rise. "'Though while you sleep, we are apart, "'your mommy loves you with all her heart."' The end. Okay, good night. Agnes: Wait! Gru: What? Agnes: What about good night kisses? Gru: No, no. There will be no kissing or hugging or kissing. Margo: He is not gonna kiss us good night, Agnes. Agnes: I like him. He's nice.Edith: [turns off her light] But scary. Like Santa! Dr. Nefario: Only 48 hours till the launch, and all systems are go. Gru: About that, I was thinking that maybe we could move the date of the heist. Dr. Nefario: Please tell me this is not as a result of the girls' dance recital, is it? Gru: No, no, no! The recital? Don't... That's stupid! I just think it's kind of weird to do it on a Saturday. I was thinking, maybe a heist is a Tuesday thing, right? Dr. Nefario: Gru, you and I have been working on this for years. It's everything we've dreamed of. Your chance to make history, become the man who stole the moon! But these girls are becoming a major distraction! They need to go. If you don't do something about it, then I will. Gru: I understand. Dr. Nefario: Good. Minion: Butt. Butt. Butt. Gru: All right. Now, when we put our cups together, we will make the "clink" sound with our mouths. Ready? Edith? Gru: and Edith: Clink. Gru: There we go. And now we drink. And Agnes? Gru and Agnes: Clink. Gru: Very good! Excuse me, girls. Girls: Come on! Gru: Don't worry, I'll be back. Keep clinking. - Clink, clink. - Clink, clink.Gru: Miss Hattie, what are you doing here? Miss Hattie: I'm here for the girls. I received a call that you wanted to return them. [Gru gives her a quizzical look] And also, I did purchase a Spanish dictionary. [swats Gru's head with the dictionary] I didn't like what you said. Gru: But... I will get the girls ready. Agnes: Don't let her take us, Mr. Gru! Tell her you wanna keep us. Mrs. Hattie: All right, girls. Come on, let's go. Margo: Goodbye, Mr. Gru. Thanks for everything. Dr. Nefario: I did it for your own good. Come on, let's go get that moon. Gru: Right. What is this for? The recital? I am the greatest criminal mind of the century. I don't go to little girls' dance recitals! Dr. Nefario: Opening launch bay

doors. Commencing launch sequence. And we are good to go in T minus 10 seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six... Vector: Oh, yeah! Gru: Nice work, Doctor. All systems go. Vector: Boo-ya! My flight suit. Oh, yeah! Once again, the mighty... Gru: I've got it! I've got the moon! I've got the moon. I can make it. Dr. Nefario: Wait a minute! Jerry: Kevin! Gru: Come on! Come on! Agnes: He's still not here. Margo: Why would he come? He gave us up. Agnes: But he pinkie promised! Teacher: Girls, girls, places. Edith: No, we can't start yet! We're still expecting someone. Agnes: Can we just wait a few more minutes? Teacher: All right. But just a few more minutes. Margo: He's not coming, guys. Dr. Nefario: Gru! Gru, can you hear me? Quick, we have to warn him, and fast!Gru: Okay, okay. There's the library. That's Third Street. The dance studio... There! There! There it is! Janitor: Sorry, buddy. Show's over.Gru: Over? Gru: Vector, open up! Vector: First give me the moon. Then we'll talk. Agnes: Mr. Gru! Vector: Zip it, Happy Meal. Gru: Now, the girls. Vector: Actually, I think I'll hold on to them a little while longer. Gru: No! Vector: Oh, yeah! Unpredictable! Gru: Listen close, you little punk. When I get in there, you are in for a world of pain! Vector: [laughs sarcastically] I'm really scared. Agnes: He is gonna kick your butt. Vector: What? He punched my shark! Dr. Nefario: There he is! Hang on, Gru. Oh, no! Gru: Vector has the girls. Go! Dr. Nefario: What happened to the ship? It's big again! Not as big as the moon is going to be! Gru: What? Dr. Nefario: The larger the mass of an object, the quicker the effects of the shrink ray wear off! I call it the Nefario Principle. I just came up with it now, actually. Gru: Oh, no! Margo: Did you see that? Girls: Vector! Help! Vector! Over here! Vector: Hey! What are you girls doing back there? Girls: The moon! Watch out! Vector: Ouch! Gru: Get as close in as you can. You got it. Margo: Mr Gru, up here! Agnes and Edith: Mr Gru! Gru: Okay, girls! Girls! You're going to have to jump. Edith: Jump? Are you insane? Gru: Don't worry, I will catch you. Margo: You gave us back! Gru: I know, I know. And it is the worst mistake I ever made. But you have to jump now. Margo: It'll be okay. Gru: Okay, girls. Margo: Jump now! Gru: Margo, I will catch you. And I will never let you go again. Vector: Not so fast! Gru: No! Margo: Let me go! Gru: Margo! I'm coming, Margo. Hang on! I got you.Vector: No! Oh, poop. News Reporter: This time, good triumphs, and the moon has been returned to its rightful place in the sky. But once again, law enforcement is baffled, leaving everyone to wonder, who is this mysterious hero? And what will he do next? Gru: Okay, girls. Time for bed. Edith: Come on! We want a story. Agnes: Three sleepy kittens! Gru: Oh, no! Sorry. That book was accidentally destroyed maliciously. Tonight we are going to read a new book. This one is called One Big Unicorn by... Who wrote this? Me! I wrote it. Look, it's a puppet book! Here, watch this. That's the horn! Agnes: This is gonna be the best book ever! Gru: Not to pat myself on the back, but, yes, it probably will be. Here we go. "One big unicorn, strong and free "thought he was happy as he could be. "Then three little kittens came around "and turned his whole life upside down." Edith: Hey, that one looks like me! Gru: No, what are you talking about? These are kittens! Any relation to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. "They made him laugh. "They made him cry. "He never should have said goodbye. "And now he knows he could never part "from those three little kittens "that changed his heart. "The end." Okay, all right. Good night. Margo: I love you. Gru: I love you, too. No, no! All right. Didn't I get you already? They're very good! Gru's Mom: I'm so proud of you, Son. You've turned out to be a great parent! Just like me. Maybe even better. Gru: No, I'm fine. Go ahead. No, no, no! THE END Hey, Carl! Hey. No, no, no. Me, me, me. John? No, no. Me, me, me. Oh,

poop. Oh, no! Stop! Stop! Hello, I am Gru. Back to work, back to work! Back to…

IS THIS THE ENTIRE FUCKING SCRIPT?

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Paralles | Chapter 10

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up.

Song(s) used: Boy Bye - Emma Bale

Warnings: I wrote this after watching Ginny and Georgia, so.... I added Marcus Baker as a character don’t @ me. Minor anxiety.

Words: 4,231

The second Violet woke up the day after her date with Luke, her phone started ringing. Glancing down at the screen, Carrie’s picture smiled back at her. Violet chuckled, not surprised that the girl was FaceTiming her at this moment and immediately picked up.

Before Violet could even greet her best friend, the blonde girl attacked her with the important question. “How was it? Tell me everything!”

Violet chuckled as she sat down on her bed with the phone angled in front of her. “It was so amazing! He took me to this fancy Italian restaurant called “Figurati Italia”, which I’m pretty sure means “Imagine Italy”.” She sounded dreamy and resembled a lovesick puppy. It scared Carrie a little as the girl droned on and on about how chivalrous and amazing Luke had been on the date.

“He did say something about a blind date you guys had set us up on…” Violet continued after minutes of dream-talk about the date. “What’s that about?”

Carrie swallowed harshly. Being reminded of that mistake made the guilt well up in her stomach. “That was – uhm…” She searched her brain for the right words. “Violet – other Violet – was so in love with Luke and the boys knew Luke had a minor crush on Violet too, or at least they thought he did. So, we set them up on a date, before the whole Sunset Curve thing blew up. When they realized what we had done, Luke kinda laughed in her face and told her he’d never date her…”

Violet’s jaw dropped. “What an asshole!” she snarled. “And you let me go out with him?!”

“I’m sorry, Vi! But this is different, this is – this is to get you back!”

Violet chuckled, her second of anger switching out into worry. “And what if that’s not how we get me back?”

“Then we’re just gonna have to find another way and in the meanwhile, get you used to this universe?” Carrie suggested. Her stomach felt weird in that moment, like a bad omen, a foreboding that something terrible was going to happen.

The brunette girl nodded her head slowly, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of being here. Forever. She wasn’t the Violet that used to live here. She was nothing like her. Or at least, she didn’t think she was, judging from the stories she’d heard. People would notice, at some point that she wasn’t who they knew her to be. There had to be a way to mislead them. To learn to be the Violet they knew.

“Do you know if Violet had some sort of diary? Just so I can get a sense of what she was like, how her brain worked and stuff?”

Carrie pondered over it for a moment. “She did have this songbook she used to write her songs and thoughts into? I believe she hid it in her nightstand.”

Violet immediately dove towards the white nightstand and opened the first drawer, finding a bright blue fake leather notebook with ‘VGD’ embossed in gold on the front.

“I found it…”

Curiosity rose within both girls. Carrie had never been allowed to look into that unless it was a song Violet was willing to share. Though she knew there was more in there than she was allowed to see. Violet’s biggest secrets, her deepest thoughts. They were all stored in there and now, the girls were granted a free pass into Violet’s mind.

“What’s in it?” Carrie asked.

“Songs, mostly,” Violet replied as she browsed through the notebook. She halted at a song titled ‘Homesick’ and as her eyes scanned the lyrics, she could feel every single feeling her parallel self was feeling in that moment. Her eyes halted at the date that was scribbled at the very top of the page. “Care… Around what time did you set her up with Luke on that blind date?”

“Uhm…” Carrie hummed as she pondered about the question. “I’d say around March 2018 or something.”

Violet’s heart dropped. “Huh…”

“What?” Carrie asked.

“I think Violet may have written a song about him,” she mumbled, but Carrie heard her, loud and clear. “It’s kinda heartbreaking…” Her fingers traced over the stains of run-out ink. Violet had been crying while writing this song. “Luke’s an asshole…”

“That’s no news,” Carrie scoffed.

Violet stared at the paper while the gears in her brain started doing their work. “He needs to pay for what he did… He needs to pay for breaking that poor girl’s heart.”

“And how are you gonna do that? He’s so self-absorbed and obsessed with his fame, he won’t even notice you’re trying to make him pay for what he did…” Carrie reasoned, but to no avail. Violet was already plotting the perfect scheme in her mind.

“Vivi,” her mother walking into her room made her snap out of her train of thought. “Can you go to the store for me, please? I forgot the feta cheese for dinner tonight.”

Violet rolled her eyes at her mother. “Of course, ma, I’ll go in a minute.”

“Don’t call me ‘ma’,” her mother frowned. “And get outta bed, it’s past noon!”

The girl managed a smile. “Sorry, mom. I’ll go in a minute.”

Her mother shot her a smile before turning on her heel and leaving her daughter’s bedroom, letting Violet and Carrie to their conversation.

“I hear there’s a super cute new bag boy in the store around the corner,” Carrie informed with a smirk. “Total cool guy. Guitarist and has a motorcycle.”

“Huh,” Violet hummed as the gears in her brain started working yet again. “I do have a thing for guitarists, don’t I?”

“That you do,” Carrie agreed.

Violet chuckled before saying goodbye to Carrie and getting off her bed. After throwing on some fresh clothes and doing her makeup, Violet left the house for the store with the scheme unfolding in her brain. The new bag boy would be the perfect pawn in her plan.

Though, when she entered the store and laid her eyes on the new bag boy, she didn’t expect him to be this gorgeous. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones, along with the perfect swoopy brown hair was enough for her heart to nearly burst out of her chest.

“Fuck,” she muttered and made her way towards the cheese aisle. With her mind set on the pretty bag boy, she searched the shelves for the feta cheese and once she had found it, she reached for it. Being in such a rush, however, caused her to take the packet behind it with her, causing it to fall to the floor. “God dammit, stupid cheese,” she groaned to herself as she bend down to pick it up.

A hand bumped with hers as she reached for it, and, when she looked up, she stared straight into Pretty Boy’s light brown eyes. Violet swore they stared right through her soul, baring every little piece of her.

“What’s the cheese done to you?” he asked, chuckling as the two of them got up again, both holding the cheese.

She regathered herself from the impact the boy had on her ovaries and flicked a strand of hair out of her face. “It did what I want you to do.” She confidently said, her lips slightly parting as it had always been one of the many tricks she had up her sleeve.

Pretty Boy’s eyes skidded from the left to the right, trying to figure out what she meant.

Smirking, Violet wrapped her hand tighter around the cheese and, as he was still holding it, pulled it closer towards her, pulling him along until his face was inches away from hers. “Fall for me,” she whispered before letting go and pushing past him.

“You got plans tonight?” he shouted after her.

Violet smirked and turned around, glad her plan was working. “Yep, I’ll be at Red and Blue tonight,” she told him, hoping he’d get the hint. Judging by the smirk that lifted his plump lips, Violet knew she was winning.

“I’ll see you there then.”

And the boy managed to keep his word. That night, when Violet was at Red and Blue with Julie, Flynn and Carrie, the Pretty Boy showed up too. Her breath hitched in her throat as she noticed him approach her.

“You didn’t,” Carrie gasped in Violet’s ear.

“I did.” She smiled at the boy. “Hey,” she greeted when he was close enough.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he teased as he reached for her hand and kissed the back of it like a true gentleman. “I never got your name.”

She went on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his ear. “Violet Dawson,” she introduced herself over the loud music.

“Marcus. Marcus Baker.” The two of them smiled at one another, causing Violet’s world to stop spinning for just a moment. “Wanna dance closer to the DJ? The atmosphere’s always better there.” Violet bit down on her lower lip as she nodded her head in response. Marcus then led her through the sea of dancing people, holding on tight to her hand.

As the two danced together to the music, Violet noticed Luke walking into the club with his bandmates closeby. His eyes skidded across the crowd and halted when they met Violet’s. He hadn’t even noticed who she was dancing with until he had approached them.

“Hey,” he said, “Who’s this?”

“Marcus,” Pretty Boy introduced himself with a smile as he reached his hand out for Luke to shake, which the rockstar completely ignored. “Okay…”

“You wanna get out of here?” Luke asked Violet, cocking his head towards the door.

Violet’s eyebrows knitted together, “I’m actually having fun, Luke. I’d rather stay.” She looked up at Marcus, shooting him a quick, apologetic smile. “But you can go if you’re not having fun.”

“Oh, uhm… No, I’m staying. You want something to drink?” he asked instead, and Violet could tell he was getting a little nervous.

“Sure. You want something, Marcus?”

Marcus hummed and grabbed Violet’s hand again before guiding her towards the bar, leaving Luke to trail behind them.

“When were you gonna tell me you had a boyfriend?” Marcus asked, his lips pressed to her ear to make sure only she would hear.

Violet chuckled. “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. We went on like one date and I think he’s desperate for another, but I’m not really that interested.”

“Ah,” said Marcus, nodding his head. “You need me to make sure he knows that?”

Violet smirked. “No, I’ve got another idea for that.” She said and confidently made her way to the stage. Marcus watched as she walked, his lips turned up into a smirk.

She grabbed the microphone on the stand and cleared her throat before nodding at the band, telling them to start playing the song. While the upbeat, bass-driven music chimed through the venue, the girl started swaying her hips before starting to sing with her eyes focused on Luke.

“You thought I'd worry That I've made the wrong decision But I'm moving on way faster than I thought I think I've grown out Your destructive efforts Still you're holding on to all the things we loved”

A soft, yet distinctive guitar riff chimed in at the pre-chorus and when she looked up, she found Marcus next to her with a guitar in his hands and a smile on his face.

“You want me to come back Like I want you anytime Now I'm here with somebody Now it's the sad boy you play out And again I'm falling Yet again that's no surprise Thought I left it behind”

Having Marcus there gave her the confidence to really go for it on the chorus. She started moving her hips to the music while singing the lyrics to Luke, who stood near the bar, watching her and Marcus like a hawk.

“But I don't want this You think I want you back But I'm so over this Boy bye And I'm not homesick You think I want you back But I'm so over this For now?”

The music went back to its bass-driven core and while Violet focused on Luke at the back of the club, Marcus couldn’t keep his eyes off of Violet as she sang. From the moment they had met, he had found her interesting. She was this overly confident, attractive woman and it intrigued him. He wanted to know what she was compensating for.

“Friends keep asking why we're not together So I guess you haven't told 'em what you did Oh You may be sorry It's not better late than never And I think this time I'm glad we called it quits”

As even Marcus grew more confident on the guitar, Violet made her way over to him and leaned on his shoulder. This action made him look up. Neither of them could hide the smile crawling to their lips as their eyes locked.

“You want me to come back Like I want you anytime Now I'm here with somebody Now it's the sad boy you play out And again I'm falling Yet again that's no surprise Thought I left it behind”

She stepped away from Marcus again and for a few seconds, kept eye contact with him until she got lost in the music and let herself go during the chorus.

“But I don't want this You think I want you back But I'm so over this Boy bye And I'm not homesick You think I want you back But I'm so over this For now?”

Her eyes landed on Luke again to see his reaction on her performance. She didn’t like what she saw though. He looked at her in the same way he had during their dinner. The literal embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. It frustrated her, but it didn’t distract her from the song.

“But we gotta stop the playing round The playing round For Gods sake Oh we gotta quit the playing round It's more than we can take Oh we gotta stop this playing round The playing round For Gods sake Oh we gotta stop the playing round It's more than we can take”

“But I don't want this You think I want you back But I'm so over this Boy bye And I'm not homesick You think I want you back But I'm so over this For now?”

Marcus took Violet’s glance his way as a sign to really go at it on the guitar and show off a little. It did seem to impress her as she turned towards him, giving him that same smirk she did in the store.

“But I’m so over this Boy bye And I'm not homesick You think I want you back But I'm so over this Boy bye Boy bye”

She let out a very last hum as the band stopped playing, Marcus included. The crowd then burst out into applause and even the guitar boy next to her clapped for her. Her cheeks heated up whilst she locked eyes with him.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Marcus said, placing the guitar back where he found it.

Violet shrugged. “Didn’t know you played guitar.” That was a lie, Carrie did tell her that, but it was the right thing to say as it caused Marcus to bare his pearly white teeth that nearly caused Violet to get a heart attack.

“That was hot,” Luke grunted in her ear when she and Marcus approached the bar for another drink.

Violet furrowed her eyebrows. “You didn’t get the hint, did ya?” she asked and Luke tilted his head a little, the smirk vanishing from his face. “Leave me alone, Luke. Please?”

“Wha– Violet?” Before he could say anything else, Marcus had already whisked her away to go and dance on the dancefloor with a drink in their hand. None of it made much sense to Luke, but he figured it was just the new way Violet operated. Maybe she didn’t want to be exclusive. Maybe he needed to try harder.

And that’s what he was going to do.

Try harder.

Violet was almost scared to turn up to practice the next day. Luke would probably hate her for rejecting him and it would make everything awkward and weird. It wasn’t going to end well and she knew that.

When she arrived at the garage, she was proven right. Luke acted cold towards her as soon as she entered the studio and everyone could feel how the warm, comfortable bond they had, had turned ice cold.

“No, Bobby!” Luke groaned for the nth time that rehearsal. “It’s a B chord, not a C chord! Are you ever gonna get it right?!” His voice was thundering through the garage and it startled each and every person in that room.

Violet glanced over to Carrie, who furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She hadn’t been informed about the conversation Violet and Luke had had the other day, but she could tell something had been off about the two since rehearsal started.

“Luke, calm down!” Alex yelled at the lead guitarist. He did know what had happened between the two and he knew Luke was taking it out on everybody else instead of owning up to it like an adult.

Luke scoffed, “No, Alex! This is exactly why we broke up in the first place! Because we don’t work!” His eyes flicked over to Violet, making her feel like there was a different layer to that sentence. They wouldn’t work either.

“No, you’re just mad because you got rejected!” Alex fought back. At least someone mentioned the elephant in the room. The girls on the sofa gasped and all three of them immediately looked at Violet, who shrunk in her seat behind the piano.

Luke clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Rub it in, why don’t you?” he muttered before placing his guitar on its stand and gathering his stuff.

As he started to make his way to the door, Violet got out from behind the piano and ran after him. “You can’t run out of rehearsal, Luke! Come on! Just because I didn’t wanna go on a date with you, doesn’t mean you have to quit the band!”

“I do though,” he said and turned around. With a few large, but slow-paced steps, he stopped in front of the brunette girl that had broken his heart and hurt his fragile reputation.

“Why?”

Sighing, Luke muttered,“Because I joined for you, you idiot.”

Violet couldn't possibly say anything to that and let Luke walk away again. The feelings she had been feeling for him all this time finally got reciprocated. By a different version of Luke, that is, but still. It didn’t quite matter which Luke said it. She heard it coming from his mouth. The words she’d been wanting to hear for years.

“I am so sorry, guys,” she breathed, hiding her face in her hands. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Violet,” Reggie said, shrugging. “Luke’s just stubborn. He can’t take no for an answer.”

It was supposed to make her feel better, but it didn’t quite. She had ruined any and all chances she had of returning to her own universe just because one version of that guy had hurt her years ago.

“Can we end rehearsal early then?” Alex questioned, coming out from behind his drums. “I got a date with Willie tonight.”

Violet smiled. At least that was a thing here. “Yeah, sure. It’s not like we’re gonna be able to perform at Chubbie’s anyway,” she said, shrugging.

“We’ll get there, don’t worry,” Alex tried to soothe her and placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed her on his way to the door.

“Yeah, we’ll be ready in time,” Reggie agreed as he, along with Julie and Flynn left the garage, leaving Violet with the Wilsons.

Violet shook her head, trying to wrap it around what had just happened. “How can we be ready in time when the gig is this weekend?” she mumbled to herself when Carrie wrapped her arms around the girl.

“I know how to get your mind off of everything,” she said, pressing her temple against Violet’s. “Girl’s night at my place.”

Violet couldn’t help the smile reaching her cheeks. That did sound like a good plan. The best plan, even. It would keep her mind off Luke and the gig and the whole universe thing. It would calm her nerves and anxieties.

Or at least, she thought it would until they arrived at the Wilson’s house. A group of girls stood at the front door, angry expressions on their faces and arms crossed in front of their chests.

“Where have you guys been?” Kayla asked, grumpily. “We’ve been waiting here for over an hour!”

Carrie squeezed her eyes shut. “Fuck, I forgot about rehearsal…” she muttered.

“Rehearsal for what?” Violet questioned, unaware of any gigs that were happening for Dirty Candy. Though, judging from Kayla’s shocked face, there was a gig she should be aware of.

“The gig this Saturday!” she sneered. “A mega-important gig at that!”

Carrie and Violet glanced at each other, eyes widened in complete horror. The exact same day as the gig at Chubbie’s with the boys from Sunset Curve. As Kayla and the girls started yelling at Carrie and Violet, the latter completely zoned out. She couldn’t hear a word of what was said. All she could think about was how she might be stuck here for the rest of her life if she didn’t perform at Chubbie’s on Saturday with the boys.

What if they didn’t show up after that humongous fight? What if that wouldn’t be the thing they had to do to get her back?

The girl’s storming off snapped Violet out of her thoughts, yet she still found herself in some sort of state of shock. Nothing felt right anymore and everything kind of sucked. There was no way she was ever going to survive in this universe if stuff like this kept happening.

“Vi?” she could hear Bobby’s voice in the far distance. “Are you okay?”

She coughed, shaking herself back. “Yeah… Yeah. I’m okay,” she clearly lied but the Wilsons didn’t push further and instead took her inside where the girls watched some movies together.

Within half an hour, Carrie had already fallen asleep and Violet couldn’t bear watching the rest of the movie. Her mind was restless and kept running back and forth over her options and every possible scenario that could happen.

There was only one thing that could keep her mind off everything. So, she hoisted herself up from the couch and made her way to the music room where she took a seat at the piano.

Her fingers grazed the keys, letting a soft melody fly out the instrument. A content sigh left her body as she let the music take her away. It felt nice to let everything out of her system. It seemed to be her one and only escape to her from this crazy world.

“You okay, Vi?” Bobby’s voice shook her out of her thoughts, causing to stop playing the piano. “You seemed a little out of it earlier.” He moved over towards her and sat down next to her. Their shoulders touched and it caused a weird spark to send shivers down Violet’s back. Something she had never felt before.

“Yeah… Everything’s just… a lot, you know?” Bobby tilted his head, urging her to elaborate. “The switching universes, Luke suddenly being into me, the pressure of being in Dirty Candy…. It’s just – a lot… I’m used to being on my own, writing music with my best friends, but now I’m suddenly supposed to be this whole other person…. It’s exhausting.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek, which Bobby caught with his thumb just before it reached her lip. The two locked eyes and for a second, Violet found herself drowning in his eyes. She had never noticed how gorgeous they were until now. The dark brown, the slight twinkle that was in them. She had never seen him up close like this. Her eyes took that liberty to scan his entire face. From his eyes to his nose and cheeks to his lips. Before they could move back to his eyes, Bobby closed the gap between the two of them and kissed her, full on the lips.

Violet was startled, at first, but quickly melted away under his touch, closing her eyes as he deepened the kiss. The kiss lasted longer than it should’ve, but Violet didn’t quite mind. Or at least not until her mind drifted back to Luke and she felt like she was kissing him instead of Bobby.

This caused her to flinch back.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have…. I’m sorry,” she quickly muttered before getting up and running out.

Though it was a mistake to Violet, Bobby didn’t quite see it like that. If it were up to him, this would’ve happened a lot earlier and could happen a lot more often. He had never admitted it to anyone, but he had been in love with Violet for years. Those feelings had never been reciprocated, so he didn’t act up on them either. Violet was just Violet. Until now.

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spencerspecifics · 4 years

Note

What about a moried fluffy fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

You have no clue how much I absolutely love this song prompt thank u anon moreid is my shit here we go. (It is fluffy but it’s angsty in the beginning so yeah stay for the fluff thanks.) And I’m so sorry this took so long to get up! I took some time off from writing bc of lots of factors.

Lowkey TW?? Slight homophobia Bc Derek’s gf thinks he’s “too gay” even tho he’s just bi Also, song lyrics are in bold lettering. They’re going to be part the story here and there to help plot and whatnot so yeah!

———————————————————————

You Belong With Me

———————————————————————

Spencer had a problem. Namely a person problem. A Derek Morgan problem. Spencer didn’t hate Derek, quite the opposite, actually. Spencer was crushing hard on the man. And he couldn’t do anything. Spencer would rather lose his right hand then tell Derek how he felt about him, he couldn’t risk their friendship over his stupid little crush.

But just because he hid his feelings, ignored them through hell and high water- it didn’t mean they weren’t real, or weren’t there. They were both very real and apparent. Every time Derek called him ‘pretty boy’ or ‘genius’ or ‘handsome’, every time Derek wrapped his arm around him casually or did small things to showed him he cared, caused Spencer to blush and go speechless. Spencer was smart, but how to react to someone you’re infatuated with giving you attention, he’d never be able to solve that.

Time and time again, though, he found himself in situations where it was just him and Derek- and everything in his brain and body would scream at him to tell him how much he liked him, tell him how they should be together. It just made sense, after all.

Long paragraph short, here are the four times Spencer felt like they belonged together, and the one time Derek realized they do belong together.

“...You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset. She’s goin’ off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do...”

Spencer hung out with Derek a lot, it was just by default. He wasn’t a social individual, but he pack bonded with the team. Spencer saw everyone there as his friends, so yeah, he hung out with Derek. They would go do things together, grab lunch, get coffee, meet up to go shopping. Painfully mundane tasks that were so domestic it could cause spencer another migraine if he thought about it for long enough.

It was on one of these mundane days when problems slowly arose. They were in the mall, sat in the food court. Spencer was looking over a new book he had just bought, it was a thick book on physics, it would probably take him a day or two at most to read it, his tray of food in front of him was still mostly untouched.

Unlike Spencer, Derek was eating. Though it was greasy mall pizza, it was still food. Derek decided he’d run a few extra miles to work it off as some sort of consequence for his action.

They sat in silence, Spencer already flipping through pages quickly, mouthing the words he was reading over to himself; and Derek chewing silently as he watched the genius in front of him.

That was, until, Derek’s phone rang. Breaking the ambiance that had surrounded the two. Spencer didn’t look up, he was too invested in the book in front of him. Derek reacted, though, wiping his hands off on a napkin before grabbing his cell phone out of his back pocket. He looked over the caller ID, it was Melissa.

Melissa was his newest fling, Spencer had heard bits and pieces of Garcia and Derek’s conversation surrounding the topic, but he knew the bare minimum- deciding best to not involve himself with how his crushes romantic life was soaring- meanwhile his was crashing.

Spencer didn’t know it was Melissa though, not until Derek pulled the phone up to his ear and said; “Hey, Melissa!”

If anyone on their team was with them and watching Spencer, they would have noticed the way his eyes looked off the book for a moment, up at Derek, before immediately turning back down; to reread the same page he didn’t need to reread because he could just go back into his memory to figure out what the words on the paper meant to say. But he had to reread the page. The strongest memory in the whole universe couldn’t tell him what was on the page in front of him, he was distracted.

Melissa on the other line started speaking. Derek listened before responding; “Oh, not much, Y’know- just at the mall with the doc.”

Spencer kept himself staring down at the book in front of him, even though he could feel the blush rising up to his ears. It was stupid that made him blush like a schoolgirl. But he couldn’t help it. So instead, he hid in the pages about quantum mechanics. Something real, something not confusing. Something that was pure and basic and understanding.

“No-“ Derek chuckled, “No, pretty boy ain’t that type of doctor,” god, this was going to be the death of Spencer. Pretty boy always was something that made him melt. He couldn’t help it, god knows he tried. He did all the distraction techniques he could find. None of them really worked.

Spencer opted to hide in his book more, act like he wasn’t listening to Derek. Even though he was. He was always hooked on every last word the man spoke, it always mattered. This was just a hopeless effort, Spencer realized, as he sunk down in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Now, what on earth are you- hey, baby- beautiful, what are you-“ Derek started, sounding concerned.

Spencer couldn’t help it at this point, he looked up over the top of the book. Derek was looking at his phone in bewilderment. It was no longer up to his ear.

“...Everything okay?” Spencer asked curiously after a moment. Derek just sighed setting his phone down on the table next to his food tray. “I don’t even know, man. I called you pretty boy and that made Melissa flip- she was all like ‘who’s pretty boy? We discussed you being bisexual already, you better not be changing up on me’. Then she hung up.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Spencer replied, book still up between him and Morgan. “Yeah, I’m confused. It was a joke.” Derek explained to Reid, as if Spencer was ever owed an explanation regarding this.

“She must be insecure.” Spencer theorized plain and simple. Derek watched him curiously instead of asking anything to lead him on, “If she gets the idea that we’re a thing- just based on a nickname, then she’s gonna hate you and Garcia. You don’t need someone like that.”

Derek sighed, “You’re right. But I really thought she was great.” “Maybe she is,” Spencer shrugged, “I don’t know her. You do. All I’m saying is, she won’t like you and Garcia if she didn’t like my nickname.”

That elicited a chuckle from Derek, a sound Spencer always cherished in hearing. “Yeah, I can’t have someone hating my favorite boy wonder,” once again, Spencer could feel the blush coming onto his face. He was just hoping the lighting inside the mall food court didn’t make it all too obvious. “I’ll talk to her about it.” Derek decided. Spencer just nodded, not entirely wanting to talk right now.

“Yeah.. um, do what’s best.” Spencer agreed blandly. He wasn’t sure what else to say. And wasn’t this just laughable? Giving his crush dating advice? Spencer wasn’t stupid, but he was in this scenario.

“Yeah, I will. Anyways,” Derek continued the conversation casually, reaching out covering Spencer’s book with his hand. “What are you-“ Spencer started, confused. “Taking away your book. Eat before your food gets cold.” Derek spoke plainly, as if this was so obvious. He pulled Spencer’s book out of his grasp, setting it down next to himself; before pushing Spencer’s untouched tray of food in front of him.

“I’m not very-“ Spencer started, already trying to reach back for his book. Derek just shook his head, pulling the book closer to him. “Nuh-uh, not today. Not today. You’re eating. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

Spencer sunk down in his seat a little as he finally caved, agreeing and eating the mall food. Granted, it wasn’t great, but it was food, and he did need to eat. Last thing he had eaten that day was a granola bar for breakfast, and Derek knew that he forgot to eat.

He ate in silence as Derek watched him, before moving his gaze to casually watch the other mall patrons. It was so entirely stupid and domestic of them. It was nothing special, it wasn’t even that good of a memory. But for some reason, Spencer knew that was the first time he felt something new towards Derek. More new than just his crush. It was a new, overwhelming feeling of “I wouldn’t treat you that way” “I wouldn’t care if you called someone babygirl” “I would be better for you” before finally, his mind landed on, “you belong with someone who wouldn’t judge. Someone like me. You belong with me.”

That’s when Spencer knew he was fucked, more so than before.

“...I’m in the room, it’s a typical Tuesday night. I’m listening to the type of music she doesn’t like. And she’ll never know your story like I do...”

The second time was at Spencer’s apartment. He had complained about his bookshelf not being stable enough to hold all his books, and Derek had practically invited himself over; “C’mon, Reid. It’ll be good. Get some quality time without the ladies, we can order Chinese, plus I can show you how to fix your shelf so you don’t have to ask for help next time.”

So yeah, now they had gone directly from work to Spencer’s apartment- the only pit stop being to Derek’s house to pick up his toolbox, as Spencer didn’t have one.

Spencer wished he wasn’t such a pushover, because damnit, now he was gonna be in his apartment with Derek. That didn’t seem like a problem to anyone else, obviously- because they weren’t crushing hard on the guy. So Spencer just had to stand there and hide how much he liked Derek, and how at home Derek made his apartment feel- because it felt better with him there. He belonged there.

Spencer ignored his thoughts as they got into his apartment, he led Derek over to the problematic bookshelf in question. Some of the books had toppled off the shelves, and were on the ground below. “Damn, Reid, you don’t mess around with all these books.” Derek joked lightly as he looked over the immense amount of books Spencer had shoved onto the shelf; Derek squatted down, lowering the tool kit next to him as he started taking books off the shelves one by one so he could further inspect what was wrong with it.

Spencer protested, not understanding Derek was joking, “It’s not my fault- the bookshelf is supposed to hold books, if it can’t do what’s promised then that’s on the manufacturers error.”

Derek just chuckled slowly in response before replying, still pulling books off the shelves “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get this sorted out for you, alright? Just get some music on so we got something to hang to.” Derek wasn’t looking at Spencer, thank god- or he’d see how the genius got so flustered so quickly, how quickly a blush spread across his face, and how he immediately looked away from him, to the walls, the floor. To look at anything but Derek.

“Yes- right. Music.” Spencer changed his focus, he couldn’t think about how good it felt to be called a pet name by Derek. He couldn’t let himself think about it, or else he’d never stop. So he busied himself with getting some music to play through the quiet apartment, he turned over to his old radio that was sat on his study desk, it was a loud radio, that’s why he got it. It was compact, but if he put it in the bathroom he could hear it from the kitchen. It was the perfect device for him.

Spencer turned the radio on, the channel he always listened to was already tuned in, so he left it that way. Soft instrumental music started flowing out of the speakers, Derek stopped his motion of putting books down to turn and look at Spencer semi-curiously; “What’s this music?” “Classical.” Spencer replied easily, looking down at the radio as he messed with the volume dial that always seemed to be loose. “It’s on 88.1, they play strictly instrumental and classical pieces. It’s nice.”

Derek didn’t respond, Spencer didn’t need him to respond. It was an inconsequential conversation about music. If Derek didn’t like the station, he was more than welcome to change it to another. But he didn’t, it was Spencer’s apartment, and the soft classical music playing just seemed fitting to play there. Plus Derek just wanted the music as a background sound to help him focus, it wasn’t really important what it was- just that there was music playing.

Spencer went off to the kitchen to find the menu he had saved from the local Chinese restaurant that does deliveries, meanwhile Derek continued pulling books off the shelves. Melissa would hate him for being here, ever since the call at the mall, she was convinced Derek was going to leave her for him- or for another guy. She thought he was “too gay” to stay with her, obviously that’s not how him or his bisexuality works. But Melissa didn’t see it that way.

God, everything Derek saw, Melissa saw differently, it was ironic he was even with her. He saw Penelope Garcia as his best female friend, his babygirl. Melissa saw her as a threat, they had a whole argument about it. Melissa had finally stopped seeing Garcia as a threat when he told her that Garcia was wrapped up in Kevin drama. He wanted to tell Garcia about all of this, but he knew that if he did she would immediately tell him to dump her. Anyone that came between their friendship wasn’t allowed, and that wasn’t a rule Garcia had made up, it was more of an understanding they had come to about their dynamic as friends.

Derek just hadn’t dumped her yet out of fear. This was his first significant other in so long, it felt like a failure to start something and end it. He wanted to fix it. Though he knew it was unlikely he could, he still wanted to try.

Derek kept thinking as he finished pulling the books off until there were none left, he then pulled on the board of the shelf to see how unstable it was, all while continuing to think. He thought about Melissa, but none of it was really positive. It was all what she would hate about him being here, other than the obvious of being with Spencer (which she already disliked. She hated the genius and she hadn’t ever spoken to him, which Derek didn’t think was rational at all.) She would hate how Spencer’s apartment was, the green walls and shelves of books, the lack of a television, the soft glow from the lamps. Derek found every single last one of these qualities endearing, it helped show who Spencer was as a whole. Melissa would see it as a problem.

She’d say green was a gross color, that Spencer needed to be aware of pop culture and get a television, she’d say that Spencer didn’t get out enough and he lived like a hermit; she’d say the lighting was weird and dark, instead of soft and calming.

Derek let out a sigh, deciding to abandon his thoughts as a whole, because they were just starting to irritate him. Spencer was great the way he was, Melissa was being problematic; and him and her really needed couples counseling or something. That was the decision he landed on as he gave his full attention to the wiggly boards in Spencer’s bookshelf.

Derek pulled on the shelf again to test it’s strength. It was loose, pretty close to just falling down altogether. It was good he was here to fix it, Derek concluded, as he reached for the screwdriver in his toolkit.

The night continued on, Derek went through part by part, working on fixing Spencer’s bookshelf; meanwhile Spencer had ordered them dinner from the local Chinese place. Reid had thought about setting up the dinner at his kitchen table, before immediately regretting that idea. This was casual, it wasn’t some type of sit down dinner with Derek. That’s the last thing he needed, Spencer decided, as he walked over to Derek and handed him the carton of beef broccoli and a pair of chopsticks to go with.

Derek took them and put them down next to himself quickly, before pivoting into a sitting position on the floor and turning himself away from the bookshelf, facing exactly to the dinner table- which is where Spencer had opted to sit at, alone.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” Derek’s spoke out to him. Spencer tried to be casual, “All my stuff’s over here, and it’s not that far from you,” he shrugged, hoping Derek wouldn’t go any deeper. But of course, he did. “And I’m over here, so bring your stuff my way- you’re gonna make your repairman eat sitting on the floor alone? That’s cold, man.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he picked up his carton of orange chicken and rice, “Okay, I’m here.” He tried to sound like he was annoyed, instead of stupidly simultaneously happy and unhappy with derek’s request (happy because his stupid crush on Derek, unhappy because of the same, unfortunate reason).

He made his way over to Morgan, sitting down across from him and using the back of his couch as a makeshift chair prop to lean against. He opened up his food, as Derek was now satisfied with this series of events and had gone back to paying attention to his beef broccoli. Spencer picked up his fork, ready to eat and just ignore how he was feeling, when Derek spoke up again; “Seriously- you still don’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Suddenly, Spencer was giving Derek a glare that had no malice, while Derek just chuckled at Spencer’s fury. “I’m tellin’ you. You need to learn how to use chopsticks.” “It’s fine.” Spencer argued weakly, “No way, if suddenly all the forks, knives, and spoons vanished, you’d have to eat with chopsticks.”

“Not true if sporks are still a thing.” Spencer pointed out, “I’m gonna smack you.” Derek replied, now it was Spencer’s turn to laugh.

“...But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers. Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find. That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time...”

The third time was when Spencer had resigned, accepting his feelings for what they were. He was now simply playing the waiting game, of waiting his crush out- because god knows he can’t go on like this forever. He hated how things have changed from a small crush into a serious never ending stream of thoughts he had whenever he was with Derek, but that’s how it was for him now.

He had ways to keep himself in check, though. As he always did. One was re-reading long old stories to himself from memory. It usually worked pretty well, and it was a good way to just pass the time in general.

Except for one, especially horrid time, when the FBI baseball team had a game against the CIA’s.

Spencer wasn’t playing, thank god for that. He wasn’t good at sports, though that one time he played baseball with Derek earlier in the season was a great memory he loved to go back to and remember. But that was a fluke, and he knew if he played again it wouldn’t go nearly as well.

Since he wasn’t playing, him and the rest of the team had come along to bring Morgan moral support from the sidelines of the bleachers. What Spencer hadn’t expected was Melissa showing up, too.

She showed up at the same time the team did to the field, they set up on the bleachers with some blankets and a basket full of snacks (courtesy of one Penelope Garcia.) and then she was suddenly walking over, surprising the team.

“Hi- um, are you Garcia? Is this the area for the BAU?” She asked, she had shoulder length brown hair, hazel eyes, and was wearing a flowy pink and yellow sundress. She was pretty, borderline beautiful, there was no denying that.

Spencer decided to start re-reading the books in his head by that point. He could already guess it was Melissa, as Rossi wouldn’t have invited a woman to this event until at least the ninth or eighth date (though with Rossi, Spencer never really knew how he operated in terms of dating, and he had no desire to know). Spencer also knew she wasn’t Hotch’s, as Hotch was too focused on Jack and the team to even consider dating.

Emily was single, and definitely would not invite a guy (or girl) to this either. J.J. was happy with Will, and Penelope had the on and off thing with Kevin. So yeah, Spencer deduced easily that this beautiful mysterious woman was Melissa.

The fact Derek invited Melissa rubbed Spencer the wrong way. But it wasn’t his business, he reminded himself, as he did his best to start focusing in on pride and prejudice in his mind.

Garcia began welcoming Melissa, even though it wasn’t necessary; “It is! And I am! Hi! Are you Melissa? Derek told me you were coming!”

Spencer did his best to not focus on Melissa, skipping forward a few chapters into pride of prejudice in his mind, to keep himself focused. He got pulled from his book though, as Melissa introduced herself and Garcia started introducing the team back;

“Well, grandpa over there is David Rossi,” “Easy, or else you won’t get those extra vacation days I offered you.” Rossi replied simply as hell, reaching for a bag of chips from the basket. “Fine- that esteemed gentleman right there is David Rossi.” “Better.” Rossi responded, a small grin showing across his face. Melissa laughed softly with Garcia and Rossi for a moment before Penelope continued on;

“That’s Aaron Hotchner, and his son Jack.” Garcia pointed them out, Jack was playing on his Nintendo DS, only looking up to wave briefly as Hotch reached over to shake Melissa’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” She smiled at him.

“Those two lovely ladies are Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss, plus Jennifer’s hubby Will and their adorable son Henry,” they all shook hands with Melissa, and J.J. briefly told her that it wasn’t necessary to call her “Jennifer” but instead “J.J.” as that was the name she was most used to.

“Then, we got Doctor beautiful brain, Spencer Reid.” Spencer looked up, giving Melissa a small wave, finally looking her head on. He had seen her, sure, but he hadn’t made eye contact with her until right now. And damn, she looked wild behind the eyes. And not in a good way. She was perky, seemingly almost as positive as Penelope. But that positivity didn’t reach her eyes. She looked Spencer up and down, and there was something deep in her gaze that made him want to get up and walk to the CIA side of the bleachers. It was clear he was going to have to walk on eggshells around her, and he wished he knew why.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Spencer offered up as a greeting, “You too,” Melissa replied, smiling as she turned on her polite charm again. It was only in her eyes he could see her distaste towards him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Melissa settled down, sitting next to the rest of the team as they waited for the game to start. She was thankfully seated near Emily, J.J., and Garcia. So Spencer and her’s conversation was limited.

That was until, he was brought up in conversation; “Oh geez- one of the funniest things was when Spence and Morgan got stuck in that elevator together,” J.J. recounted, causing all four of them to laugh; meanwhile Spencer didn’t react. He was still deep in his mind reading, and though he heard his name called, it didn’t cause him to want to stop.

“Yeah- I heard about that from Derek, he said Spencer spouted off some fact about people and elevator deaths because he was scared.” Melissa turned to Spencer as she spoke, giving him an in to speak. Spencer didn’t realize she had even turned to him, as he was fully focusing his brain power on the pages of the book he had read over before.

“Uh.. what’s he doing?” Melissa asked in a hushed voice to J.J., “Oh- he’s just reading. Spencer, hey.” J.J. said, leaning over and tapping his shoulder, finally catching his attention; causing him to open his eyes.

“Sorry- what?” Spencer finally spoke, as he was fully there and listening to them now, instead of somewhat ignoring them and focusing on a memory of a book.

“..J.J. said you were reading?” Melissa asked curiously, obviously confused. Spencer nodded, “Yes. I was. I have an eidetic memory so I can look back at anything I’ve ever read. So sometimes I go back and read books I’ve read before.” Spencer explained awkwardly, “I do it to, uh, pass the time.”

“Hm.. that’s.. that’s cool. Derek mentioned you were smart, recounting lots of facts.” Melissa said slowly, it seemed like she was trying to gain some sort of edge in the conversation, but thankfully Emily butted in casually- not realizing the odd atmosphere that was slowly building.

“Oh yeah- Reid’s always doing that. Talk to him on Halloween and all he talks about is how paganism played a major role in the now very American, very non-pagan holiday.” The girls laughed on innocently as Melissa gained a serious look in her eye again.

“You know everything?” She asked him, “No.” he replied, he was self assured in this field, he knew how to handle himself when people were doubting his intelligence level. “I just know a lot.” He clarified.

Melissa looked like she was ready to speak, say something to him- he had no clue if it would be good or bad. But everyone’s attention got redirected on the whooping sounds both teams made as they entered the field. The game was starting.

Spencer had stayed focused on the game, even running statistics and probabilities in his head on who would come out victorious. Rossi made a joke they should bet on the game like people do on horses, and he’d just cheat and use Reid to make sure he won.

The rest of the team didn’t go for that, as they would employ the same strategy as Rossi, and Spencer was smart enough to give them all the wrong answers so he would actually win.

It was now the third inning, J.J. had gone with Hotchner and Will to take a short walk with the kids, as they were getting bored in their seats. Rossi went off to flirt it up with the older woman who was running the concessions stand, and Emily and Garcia had gone off to the bathroom together.

Now it was just Melissa and Reid alone, and Reid didn’t like her company. He didn’t mean it in a rude way, but also maybe he did- for his very stupid and very personal reason that she was actively dating his crush. But besides that reason, she seemed off, and on a team of behavioral analysts, he couldn’t be the only one who noticed.

There was something wrong with her, but Spencer couldn’t place his finger on what. That was, until, she sat down next to him on the bleachers. “So,” she started casually, “what’re you reading up there?” “Pride and Prejudice.. have you read it?” Spencer replied, doing his best to make polite conversation.

Melissa shook her head, “No, way too long of a book for me.” Spencer just nodded, an “Ah” sound escaping his lips before their conversation entirely diminished as they sat in silence, watching the CIA’s team line up for batting.

Derek was on second base, and while he waited for the CIA team to finish lining up, he turned to the only two people still on the bleachers and waved. Melissa waved in response excitedly, “Go Derek!” She shouted for good measure, Reid on the other hand just gave a small wave to him.

Their personalities were very different, Spencer gathered.

“Derek helped you with a bookshelf the other week, right?” Melissa asked after silence had settled over them, and Reid had almost returned to his brain book. Her question stopped him from reading, though.

Spencer nodded, “Uh, yeah. He helped fix my bookshelf, the boards were all wobbly and books couldn’t stay on.” Melissa hummed in response for a moment, before looking back out to the field. Derek was now busy talking to a teammate, a guy Spencer recognized from the terrorist division.

“Look, Spencer,” Melissa finally spoke again, letting out a sigh before she continued on; “We both know Derek is an attractive man, a great man. But he’s my man. I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides- believe me, I want to think that you two are just the best of friends and that’s it. But I don’t believe it, not for a second, especially not after hearing how he talks about you, and finally meeting you.”

Spencer stayed quiet, not looking at Melissa, instead opting to stare at his hands, that were now firmly clasped together as he took in what she was saying. “We are just friends, though..” Spencer finally spoke up in a weak defense for himself. Melissa just chuckled, their pleasant conversation had somehow turned to her speaking to him in a sickly sweet malicious tone.

“I don’t think you are. I think there’s something more, and I don’t want things to go any further- with either of you.”

Spencer stayed quiet again, seriously considering exiting the bleachers and getting a cab (as the team had carpooled over to this event together.) and just leaving, going back to his apartment and faking the stomach flu for a day and a half. It seemed so appealing to just disappear right now.

Melissa continued on after she realized Spencer wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, Spencer. You seem very kind, and smart. You told me earlier you don’t know everything, but you know a lot,”

Spencer nodded, that was true, he had said that, she kept going; “I hope you now know where your place is. Away from Derek. And I hope you know you aren’t alone with me talking to you, I would be telling Penelope Garcia the same exact thing, except she has a boyfriend, Kevin. Derek told me. So you’re the only single one who poses a problem. I hope we can be friends- but you need to back up.”

And that was all, she got up and moved away, and just in time as Emily and Garcia made their reappearance from the bathroom and onto the bleachers.

Spencer stayed frozen, however. Not really sure what he could say or do. All he knew now is that he had a very good reason to dislike Melissa. And he did, as much as he hated to admit it. He disliked Melissa, he wanted her gone. He didn’t want her and Derek together.

He was now only more sure that he would treat Derek better, he wouldn’t go around threatening his friends- he couldn’t even imagine that as something he would ever want to do.

Spencer stayed, shrunken on the bleachers as he watched the team play, staying quiet and reserved while Melissa and the rest of the team cheered.

Spencer just hoped Derek figured out that Melissa wasn’t good for him sooner than later, or else he’d never get out of the relationship scratch-free.

“Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn out jeans. I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughin’ on the park bench thinking to myself, ‘hey isn’t this easy?’. And you got a smile that could light up this whole town. I haven’t seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you’re fine I know you better than that. Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?”

Since Spencer’s unfortunate encounter with Melissa, he had done his best to steer clear of Derek. Only being with him when necessary (and they were only really together for work, though for the few latest times that Derek’s invited him out to get food or see a movie, Spencer’s declined).

Derek had subtly caught notice, wondering why Reid had been declining his invitations. At first he thought it was because Reid was busy, he was somehow also getting a bachelors degree in philosophy at the moment, it made since if he had limited free time.

But then he did more thinking, and even if reid was busy- he always made time for Derek. Morgan knew that for a fact, because every time he needed help (work related or not) Spencer was there, and ready to assist. Even if Reid was studying, the kid read so fast he only needed to read something once to remember everything. So it didn’t make sense. Not at all. Spencer was avoiding him.

So why? Derek now had to get alone with Reid, he needed to see what this was about.

And Derek got his chance, after solving a case in the sleepy city within Maine, called Rangeley. The teams plane was having a malfunction issue with a part of the engine, so they were stuck there for an extra day. Unfortunate for everyone else, but a blessing in disguise for Derek. It was the perfect time for the team to hang together, maybe get some meals or see a movie. But Derek set up a plan.

Morgan knocked on Spencer’s door the morning they had nothing to do, with his plan already getting set in motion. This was step one, of many.

Reid responded in his own special fashion, opening the door a crack to look out at Derek and into the hall, his hair looked messy, he was still slightly bleary eyed- and he was still in his pajamas and mismatched socks. He had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Derek asked, he didn’t want to start this morning off on Reid being rudely awoken. Reid nodded as he opened the door more, stepping forward the slightest bit. “Yeah, but it’s okay. What’s going on?” Reid was already aware of the plane situation, the whole team had been told last night, which forced Derek into making this last minute plan.

“Nothing- the team doesn’t have anything to do. Wanna go get breakfast?” Derek asked, trying to phrase his words and himself casually. He didn’t want Reid to get suspicious and back out. He just wanted answers from his best friend, that’s all.

Spencer rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before responding. “Okay, yeah. Let me go get changed.”

They arrived at an Ihop. It wasn’t anything special, but it was the nearest breakfast place to the hotel, so it worked for them. They were greeted by a hostess who showed them to a booth.

Spencer didn’t know why he agreed this this, he shouldn’t have. But in his half-awake and still somehow sleep deprived mind, breakfast seemed like a good idea. A great idea, in fact. But he now was anxious again. He didn’t want to deal with Melissa, call him scared, nonconfrontational, weak- whatever. He just didn’t want to have to deal with her. He enjoyed hanging out with Derek, but he knew if he did then it would be inevitable that he would end up facing her wrath again.

Almost immediately after the hostess showed them to their booth, their waiter appeared to take their orders. “Goodmorning, what can I get started for you two?” The older gentleman, whose name tag simply read “John” asked them.

“Just some coffee, please.” Derek ordered for the both of them. He knew what Spencer would want to order, and he also knew how bad Spencer was at conversing with people he wasn’t familiar enough with. John just nodded, saying a quick; “Comin’ right up!” Before walking off to leave them alone.

“Is the rest of the team coming?” Spencer asked as he stifled a yawn with his hand. Derek shook his head, “No, they all wanted to sleep in. Lucky I dragged you out of bed, though.” He joked, hoping to lighten the mood in the room. Spencer just smiled sheepishly for a moment before looking back down at the table.

They stayed quiet, which wasn’t unusual for the two, especially considering they were both still tired. But Derek didn’t want there to be silence, he wanted to talk about what was going on. “Reid-“ he started, but before he could continue his sentence, John was standing by the table with a pot of coffee. Derek and Spencer both wordlessly pushed their mugs over towards John, watching him fill them up with coffee in silence.

John finished pouring and stepped back, “I’ll give you folks some more time before ordering.” Derek just nodded at him, “That would be great, thank you.” And with that, their waiter was gone.

Reid was now focused on his mug of coffee, grabbing some sugar packets from the container on the table and ripping one open after another, before finally pouring it into his coffee. “How many sugars you plan on putting in there?” “Two.” “You’re already ripping open a third packet, Reid.”

“Oh.” Was all he said in response, Derek sighed, Spencer wasn’t acting right; he hadn’t for a while but this morning was peak Reid-being-weird, so Derek needed to take a stronger approach; “Reid. What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.” Spencer said all too quickly to be believable. Derek rolled his eyes, watching the tired genius grab a spoon and stir his coffee with an intensity he never normally used. “That doesn’t work on me, man. We’re all profilers. I know when something’s up.” Spencer stayed quiet, still stirring his coffee with the spoon.

Reid didn’t want to be in this situation. He knew he should’ve hidden himself better, said and acted in different ways. Derek knew something was up, and Spencer couldn’t hide it forever. Especially not from him. He hated lying to Morgan.

“So..” Spencer spoke quietly, “What do you think is up?” Derek rolled his eyes at Spencer again, “Don’t talk to me like an unsub trying to stall. Somethings wrong. Did I do something- was it something I did or said?” Spencer put his spoon down as he watched Derek.

“I gotta be honest, Reid. I don’t know what’s going on here. We used to hangout so much, and suddenly you’re giving me the cold shoulder. I thought it was because of your studies- but you’ve done written whole thesesis while we’ve hungout. So it’s not you being busy with school. You make time. Why isn’t there any time now?” Derek kept going, voice raising in intensity as he got to the end.

Spencer wanted to say something, he wanted to say something so bad. But he didn’t know what. So instead he took a sip of his not-sweet-enough coffee. Derek watched him as he did so, intensity not wavering.

Spencer put the mug back down onto the table before he finally found his words, “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything.” “So what is it?” Morgan asked him almost instantly. Spencer sighed, he didn’t want to say it was Melissa. He couldn’t, he didn’t want to make Derek feel bad, he thought Derek was happy with her. He didn’t want to ruin that, even if Melissa was terrible. Derek was seemingly glad, and Spencer didn’t want him changing from positive to anything else (except somehow maybe more positive.)

“It’s nothing.” “It’s definitely not nothing, Reid. Please tell me.” Derek pried more. He couldn’t let this go. Spencer sighed, a weak sign of defeat. “Okay- but. I’m sorry. This involves Melissa.” He admitted, looking up to see Derek had a confused expression on his face. “What about her?” “When we went to the baseball game a few weeks ago and met her. She was really pleasant at first, but as soon as we were alone on the bleachers together she told me that I needed to stop being so close with you. And it really freaked me out, she saw me as a threat.”

Derek leaned back in the booth bench, unsure of what to do. “What did she say?” Derek finally asked after a moment, deciding he wanted to know what Melissa said to Spencer in full to make him act like this. Spencer didn’t deserve to be treated this way, he just didn’t. “I’m not going to-“ Spencer started, Derek just cut him off, “Yes you will. I know you remember what she said. So tell me. Please.”

Spencer fidgeted with the handle of the mug, “Okay, okay.. she said that you were her man and then she said, ‘I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides’...” Spencer spoke once more after that, before he could forget, “She also, um.. she said she would tell Garcia the same thing, except she didn’t because she knew she was with kevin.”

Derek stayed quiet, looking at Spencer before looking back down at his mug of coffee. Spencer stayed quiet, he didn’t know what he could say or do right now to make this better.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer finally decided to speak after it had been silent for a few minutes. “I didn’t want to tell you because you-“

Derek held his hand up as a simple gesture, indicating Spencer should be quiet. Spencer hushed up quickly, watching Morgan, who was sitting silently still, staring down with an intensity that could burn stronger than the sun. He stood up after a moment, pulling out his wallet and putting two twenty dollar bills down on the table, in front of Spencer. “For the coffee. Get some breakfast, too. I need to go.” “Derek, I-“ Spencer started, standing up, he wasn’t gonna leave Derek alone, especially to process this large amount of information. but he had started walking away, back turned to reid- leaving him alone at the booth. He wasn’t going to come back, and as much as Spencer wanted to follow him and never leave his side- he could tell he should leave him alone, at least for now.

After that whole experience, Spencer didn’t stay to get breakfast. He finished his coffee, paid, and left quickly. Deciding Derek needed space, and he wasn’t sure what else he could do, so he tucked tail back to the hotel. He lied to himself, saying maybe he could nap or watch T.V and ignore his imploding thoughts.

He couldn’t ignore his imploding thoughts, if that wasn’t painstakingly obvious. Spencer’s mind reeled from every aspect of their breakfast, to how he was curt and almost rude to Derek- he now wished he hadn’t been, but how else could he have acted? He didn’t know. He hated how things had went. He should’ve lied and told Derek he didn’t have the time for breakfast.

So, when Spencer finally got the hotel, he sat and thought and waited, waited for any sounds outside of his hotel door. Derek’s room was directly across the hall from his. So he waited for the sounds of the door opening, the beeping of the keycard, the sound of footsteps that were muffled by the soft carpet. Anything that would show Derek was back, back close to him, close enough to him for a conversation again. Because he knew that they needed to talk.

Spencer was counting. One hour and eighteen minutes passed before he heard any sounds of life that would match what he was waiting for. Namely, he heard the footsteps approach by his door, and then the beep of the keycard. And finally, the door opening and shutting quickly. Derek was there, he was back, Spencer got off his perch on the bed in record speed, exiting out to the hall and crossing quickly.

He was about to knock on the door, hand raised in the air, before he slowed himself down. Was this too much? What if Morgan didn’t want to talk to right now? What if Derek thought he was lying and was mad? Oh god, that terrified Spencer. He hoped Derek knew he wasn’t lying, he could run any behavior test he wanted to, but he wouldn’t lie to Derek. Not now, not ever.

Spencer still had his hand raised in the air, standing directly in front of the door. If Derek thought he was lying, he would prove he wasn’t. Nothing mattered right now, Spencer decided as he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Spencer heard movement from inside the room, before Derek opened the door. He looked stressed, the lines in his face were hard set, this was how he looked when he dealt with an unsub. This isn’t how he should be looking on a day off. Derek said nothing as he looked at Spencer, “Can we talk?” Spencer asked him after it was clear Derek wasn’t going to start talking.

Derek nodded. Wordlessly opening the door more, and stepping back to allow Reid inside. He stepped in, Derek’s room was a mirror copy of Spencer’s, simple and small. He had his duffel sat on the floor by the small twin bed provided by the hotel.

Reid stood in the room, Derek moved past him to sit down on the edge of the bed as Spencer messed with some loose thread on his jacket, “I, um... I got your change..” Spencer started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash and coins. He wasn’t sure what to say now that he was inside Derek’s room. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, so he wasn’t sure how to prepare. Derek wasn’t acting like himself, so he didn’t know what would work.

Spencer went to hand it back to him, “Reid, no.” Derek started, causing Spencer to stop in his tracks, holding the money in silence.

“You didn’t come here for that.” Derek motioned to the money with his hand. “No. I didn’t.” Spencer mumbled awkwardly, shoving it back into his jacket pocket, the coins clinking together all too loudly for his liking.

“I’m sorry.” Derek sighed after a moment, “I shouldn’t have ran off like that. It’s just- I couldn’t believe what you were saying.” Spencer nodded, he wanted to say so much to Derek. He wanted to say, “I swear on my mother I am not lying”, he wanted to say “I’m sorry, I should have stayed quiet” he wanted to say “I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you walk away, I don’t want to lose you”. But Spencer couldn’t talk, he wasn’t sure what would come out if he spoke.

“I, uh, I called Melissa.” Derek told him, “After I left. I called her, I asked her if she said that to you, and she said she didn’t say it like that,” He took a breath before continuing on, “I asked her what she meant, because she wasn’t denying what she said. She just was saying the wording was off.”

Spencer found his small, awkward voice, deciding to look down at the floor instead of Derek. He was scared of what he would see. “What did she say the wording was?” He asked Derek, “She said she was harsher than that, told you to back off. Then she tried to explain herself, as if any of what she did was acceptable and could be fine under the disguise of caring for your significant other.”

“Reid, look at me. Please.” Derek sighed, not continuing whatever else he was going to say. Spencer finally looked up to meet his eyes. Derek just looked tired, leaning awkwardly on the couch, as he kept his gaze on Spencer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause this.” Spencer apologized, he had no clue if he needed to. But it felt like what he had to do.

“No, don’t.” Derek shook his head, as if to knock the apology out of his brain. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you. The red flags were there, Reid. And there were so many. I was just ignoring them.”

Spencer stayed quiet, watching Derek as he admitted this out loud; “I just- I wanted to make it work. But the fact she said that to you, and was gonna tell garcia, I just-“ Derek shook his head again, a mixture of defeat and anger simultaneously now instead of a signal for reid to stop.

“It upset me. I couldn’t believe it. So I called her and that happened and... and...” Derek trailed off, sighing simply as if that was the end of the sentence.

“...You broke up?” Spencer asked carefully, not wanting to misjudge. Derek nodded, rubbing his face with both hands. He was stressed. Spencer could tell.

“We did. It’s for the best. I can’t be dating someone who is like that. Especially not to you, or Garcia. That’s the biggest deal breaker out there.” Derek spoke, he was still serious but he was also sort of joking in a way to help calm the atmosphere down.

Spencer didn’t respond right away, instead moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from Morgan to give him plenty space. Derek didn’t like that, pulling on Spencer’s hand and motioning him to sit directly by his side.

Spencer complied, but cursed his face for causing a blush to form. This wasn’t the time to savor the feeling of Derek’s strong grip on his hand. It wasn’t.

Spencer was now sat down next to Derek, he wasn’t sure what else to say, so he stayed quiet. But he knew he didn’t want to leave Derek’s side now. He needed to be here. It couldn’t be easy for Derek.

“I’m sorry I left you at the restaurant.” Derek spoke after a while of them sitting side by side. “It’s okay,” Spencer told him, Derek gave him a sideways glance that proved he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“I didn’t end up having breakfast, though. I was worried.” Spencer admitted. Derek let out a low chuckle, and god, Spencer loved that sound. When was the last time he heard it? It used to be as common as hearing traffic in downtown Quantico, but as of lately; he hadn’t heard it often. Spencer knew in the back of his head, it was probably Melissa. Small things had changed with Derek during their time of dating.

First, it was calling Spencer “pretty boy”, and Garcia “baby girl”. Derek stopped saying it, and as much as garcia was worried about him, Derek had assured her he was okay. (Spencer didn’t mind the nickname stopping, as he finally didn’t have to come up with an excuse every time he blushed in front of the team when Derek would call him that.)

But then, Derek showed up to work looking tired, and sure- the job took long hours and restless nights and way too many coffee breaks. But he looked like he was losing that energy in his eyes. The excitement that made him join the team. He had told Spencer it was originally he missed Melissa. But now, Spencer was second guessing that.

Things had slowly changed with Derek, so small that Spencer didn’t even notice fully. But if you looked at all the reasons why he changed, it could be tied back to Melissa.

Good riddance. Spencer thought to himself. In ordinary situations, he would hate to think that, but today he didn’t; as he heard Derek’s soft, low chuckle. He didn’t want to ever stop see Derek being himself. He wouldn’t stop him from anything, he knew he wouldn’t. All he would want to do is care about him, kiss him, fall asleep in his arms, have a nice dinner with him- things a real boyfriend would do.

He would let Derek be himself, he wouldn’t stop him from working, he wouldn’t want to fight, he wouldn’t want to play games, and god knows he wouldn’t stop Derek and Garcia flirting. That’s what kept them happy, together, and secure.

“I’m sorry you guys broke up, but if it’s any consolation. You belong with someone better.” Spencer admitted, not adding on the last part he always wanted to say. If he could say it, lord knows he would. But he couldn’t tell Derek they belonged together. He sounded insane.

Derek softy bumped shoulders with him in an act of thanks, “Thank you. Now c’mon, let’s go get you some real breakfast, pretty boy.” He said as he stood up, the blush immediately rushed back into Spencer’s face. God, that name would be the death of him. He was seriously going to die like this.

“You still got my change? ‘Cause you’re paying.” Derek joked with him as he turned to pull on his coat, “It’s your money, why don’t I give it back to you?” Spencer asked him, the conversation now changing to a much lighter tone. Derek shrugged, “You paying a cashier will help your people skills. Now c’mon, I saw a good restaurant with outdoor seating that’s by a garden. You can give me plant facts while we eat.”

“...Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re ‘bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me...”

Derek’s growing love for Spencer Reid was so slow he didn’t realize it until it was bursting out of his chest. It wasn’t obvious, it wasn’t, at least not to Derek. But suddenly it was everything Spencer did, it had his attention and captivated his thoughts. If Spencer was rambling about something, Derek would listen. Even if he didn’t care, even if he was tired, or hungry, or even mad.

To put it simply, it was every single thing that Spencer had ever done for him, suddenly making Derek feel something. It was every little funny thing Spencer did, it was every factoid he spat out to the team at the round table, it was how he was there for everyone in less than a second if needed, it was how Spencer complained about modern television, it was how Spencer grumbled in his sleep when they had to wake him up to get off the team’s jet after a long case. It was everything.

Every one of those instances just made something inside Derek squirm. Before, when Derek was dating Melissa- he was able to hold that feeling at bay. But it had now been months since his and Melissa’s breakup, and he had nothing to stop his mind from thinking about Reid, so the feelings and thoughts about the genius only grew stronger.

He thought about him nonstop. About how Reid was precious, amazing, handsome, smart, and god- he was borderline perfect. And what had originally started as a small inkling feeling inside of him was growing, growing into something almost unmanageable. It took everything in Derek not to just lean over and grab the genius’ hand as he was waving it around when speaking about something he was passionate about, and holding it tightly.

It was getting worse, day by day it was hell at work. But it was the best suffering in the world. Seeing Spencer sat at his desk, deep in thought as he typed reports out, along with emailing scientists and doctors on the side. God, Reid was an absolute genius. Morgan wasn’t sure if he could easily get over that fact anymore as he used to. Now Spencer’s smarts had more meaning, and he wasn’t sure why.

Spencer’s smarts always mattered, and definitely came in handy for the team, saving their asses more than once. But now, his IQ level was something Derek caught himself almost worrying about.

Spencer wouldn’t ever say it, but what if he thought Derek was stupid? The brawn to his brain. Nothing more than a dude to tackle the bad guys and handcuff them down. What if Spencer thought he wasn’t a good person, a good friend?

Now, along with the growing admiration, he also had growing fear. Derek was now going back and forth between doubting himself and wanting nothing more than pulling Spencer into a janitors closet and kissing him until they needed air.

Yeah, Derek was screwed. Work was painful. But he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he kept going along, because every day he saw Reid that feeling inside him only grew, and he didn’t have the willpower to stop it, and even if he did- he probably couldn’t. This was the strongest he had ever felt in a long time. It would take an army to stop how he felt (and even then, he might still beat the army).

The night it all went down wasn’t what derek intended it to be, he was pretty much planning on hiding his crush on reid to the grave, not admitting it to anyone ever about how he felt. Because as Derek saw it, Spencer was too smart for him. Definitely out of his league.

Because in Morgan’s mind, how dumb could he be? He had been slowly falling in love with his best friend, all while not even realizing it- and dating someone who was absolutely horrid during that entire process. It was enough to make him smack his head against his wall.

Derek was working late the night it happened, going over this same dilemma in his head as he finished up the last of his reports to turn over to Hotch.

Nothing was happening in the bullpen, and for the first time in forever, Spencer had left before the work day ended. He had been complaining of a stomachache, and Rossi had smartly deduced he was sick, and even though Reid didn’t want to leave- the team all but kicked him out the door, telling him he wasn’t any good working when feeling like vomiting.

Derek had missed him since he left, he felt stupid admitting that, but it was the plain and simple truth. His days were just better with Reid, and there was no other explanation than that. As stupid as it was, Derek had come to agree with that fact a while ago, and now it was just normal, him missing Reid. But thankfully Reid didn’t leave often enough for it to be bad.

That being said, Derek still worried. Deciding to call Reid, it was only 7 p.m., after all. Surely Reid was still awake.

His cell phone ringed as Derek held it up to his ear, twirling his pen absentmindedly between his index and pointer finger as he waited for Spencer to answer.

And he did, he sounded groggy, but he answered; “Hello?” “Hey, Reid.” Derek spoke, a small stupid smile creeping its way into his face. “How are you feeling?” He asked, he heard Spencer shuffling on the other end of the line, then the faucet running.

“I’m okay... just really dizzy now, so I got myself some water.” “Did you eat enough today?” Derek asked him, changing tones from a concerned friend to something more.

“Yes, I did. You don’t need to worry about my eating.” Reid said simply, he wasn’t the type of guy who liked being watched over. Derek understood why, but this was still necessary.

“Reid, c’mon now. When was the last time you ate?”

“11:23 a.m., Garcia gave me a muffin.” Spencer admitted after a beat of silence, “Reid, you’ve been not eating for almost eight hours- no wonder you felt so sick, man!” Derek said into the phone as he stood up, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders, deciding to leave now. The reports were almost done, anyway.

“Well, I’m not hungry so it’s fine..” Reid argued weakly in response, “Oh no, no. Don’t even, Spencer. I’m getting you food and taking it to your place. Now go lay down and take some tylenol, drink that water you got.”

Spencer huffed weakly, but made no move to argue or protest Morgan inviting himself over. “Fine. Please get me chicken noodle soup.”

As agreed, Derek got Spencer some chicken noodle soup from a great nearby deli Spencer had told him about a while ago. Derek was proud of himself for this choice in food, even if Spencer had requested soup, he hadn’t requested where. And Derek felt smart for remembering one of Spencer’s favorite places.

Derek arrived to Spencer’s apartment, the door was left unlocked so he came in, carrying the container of soup in both of his hands, so he pushed the front door shut gently with his foot.

“Hey, Reid. I’m here,” he called out into the apartment, as he made his way to the bedroom, finding a sleeping Spencer on the bed, covered in a few miscellaneous blankets to keep him warm.

Derek sat the container of soup onto the nearby bedside table, next to spencer’s near empty water glass, before looking down at reid.

Spencer was perfect, regardless if he was awake or asleep. But asleep he was so peaceful, so calm. Derek could so easily keep Spencer safe from everything in his sleep, hold him in his arms and help ground him. He knew Spencer got nightmares, everyone on the team did. But he knew if he was there, he could help, he could make it better.

Spencer was breathing softly, his face looked slightly flushed, and his hair was all over the place, some strands had fallen onto his face directly, which Derek gently pushed out of the way to get a better look at Spencer.

“Mmm..” Spencer mumbled in his sleep, a response to Derek touching him, Derek took a sharp breath in. God, he wanted to just tell Spencer right now he felt, he so badly did. And Spencer was asleep, what was stopping him? He could say it and Spencer wouldn’t remember. Because unlike conscious Spencer, unconscious Spencer didn’t remember things.

So before his brain could catch up to his body, he did. “I love you.” He told Spencer softly, it was barely above a whisper. It was so quiet he was sure Spencer didn’t hear it at all, but it was just Derek’s unfortunate luck that Spencer started to stir.

“Hm?” He asked, sitting up slowly, Derek pulled his hand away from where he had tucked the strand of hair away.

“I said, I brought you soup.” Derek lied easily, hoping that “I love you” and “I brought you soup” were interchangeable sounding sentences. Spencer just nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes slowly as he turned to look at the container on his bedside table

He didn’t suspect anything, Derek let a breath of relief out internally as Spencer reached for the container. “It didn’t come with a spoon, so I’ll go get you one.” Derek told him, getting up to go back into Spencer’s kitchen and grab a spoon from the silverware drawer.

When Derek came back, Spencer was more awake, holding the container of soup in his hands expectantly as he waited. Derek handed him the spoon wordlessly, before sitting down on the bed next to Spencer. “How are you feeling?” Derek asked him, as Spencer hadn’t tried out the soup yet (he was waiting for it to cool a bit more.) “Tired- sorry I left, by the way.” Reid responded slowly, he still felt the tiniest bit groggy.

Derek shook his head, “No Reid, don’t apologize. Are you feeling any better?” Spencer nodded slowly in response, starting to stir the soup to help it cool down. Derek watched him, the soft light from the only lamp on in the room casted off shadows throughout the walls and onto Spencer. He looked beautiful, even if he was wearing pajamas and his hair was messy and he was stirring his soup while half awake.

To Derek, he looked perfect. And once again, Derek’s body moved too fast for his brain to catch up with. He was suddenly talking; “Reid, can I tell you something?” He asked the tired genius, who just nodded and gave an “Mhm” sound in return as he continued to stir his soup.

Derek breathed in, he couldn’t go back. It was now or never. He turned to face Spencer, and if he hated him after this, so be it.

“I was an idiot, Spencer. When I was with Melissa, searching for a good moment to stay happy about was rare. But the entire time I’ve known you, everything’s been a good moment. Every opportunity I’ve had with you has let me grow and become smarter, and a better person..” he took a second to look back at Spencer, who was now looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“But I’ve still been stupid. Because the entire time I was with her, I only looked forward to being with you. I missed the best thing right in front of me, and I hope you know that I am not normally this dense... but..” this was the hardest part of his whole speech, how the fuck was he supposed to admit something like this?

“But,” he started again, “I like you, Reid. I really like you. This entire time I was chasing the wrong person and following dead leads, like a rookie on a new case. But I realize the only person that makes me feel anything is you- and... I think, I- no. I am. I am falling for you. And I don’t even know if you like guys but-“ It was by this point Spencer put his soup down back on his bedside table, the soft sound shut Derek up easily.

“You’re falling for me?” Spencer asked, just simply clarifying what he had said. Morgan nodded, standing by it. “Yes. I am.”

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief, something Derek hadn’t expected him to do. “You aren’t stupid... I- um. I’ve been falling for you too.”

That made Derek light up instantly, “You have?” Spencer nodded sheepishly, staring down at his fingernails instead of Derek. “I wasn’t expecting you to...” Spencer mumbled, as if that was a sufficient enough explanation on his part on why he was relieved and surprised.

“It just snuck up on me. I can’t get you out of my head, you’re all I want.” Derek admitted, more brashly than he would’ve liked to phrased things. But that didn’t seem to bother Spencer at all, as he started to lean forward slowly, Derek leaned forward too, reaching up to put his hand on the side of Spencer’s face to help him stay steady. Their lips were inches apart, but Spencer spoke. “Derek, I want to kiss you so bad. But if I’m sick I don’t want to risk infecting you-“

“Pretty boy, I’m breathing your air already. And I don’t think you have the flu, just low blood sugar.” Derek told him, which quickly shushed Reid up. They leaned forward more, and all the feelings of angst and dread that had built up between the two disintegrated as their lips touched slowly.

It was a soft kiss, a chaste one. But there definitely was passion behind it. Morgan stayed close to Spencer, resting his forehead against his.

“I belong with you...” Derek mumbled, he didn’t care if Spencer heard it anymore. He should hear it, he deserved to hear it. He deserved to know he was the only one Derek wanted.

Spencer pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips the entire time. “I can’t believe it...” he mumbled to Derek after a moment. “You should. You said it yourself, I belong with someone better. And it’s you. I just hope you agree.” Derek told him honestly, not leaving anything he said to chance. Spencer nodded, “Yes- you belong with me. Absolutely, yes. I agree.”

Derek smiled, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind spencer’s ear, before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Spencer’s forehead. “You eat that soup, I’ll go get you some more water.”

———————————————————————

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lizacstuff · 4 years

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EPISODE 34 - Sen Çal Kapımı/Edser Asks

(asks under the read more)

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the episode? I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel which is the end of this current storyline. Very much looking forward to Eda & Serkan being reunited at which point I will delete episodes 30-34 from my memories. This episode to me had the same vibe as 32 which overall had the feeling of actual progression for Eda & Serkan. It has been said before but the amnesia storyline and Serkan falling in love with Eda again could have been much more enjoyable with better writing and no Selin or Deniz but this is the plot we were given. So hoping for another Edser filled episode that includes Serkan professing his love to Eda in front of everyone.

YES, LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL. Me too. I think we’re close to being rid of Selin and Deniz.

As for the episode, it was a LOT better than the last one and was probably the easiest episode to watch since 28, but it’s still part of this unenjoyable arc. I agree that it had a similar vibe to 32, which was one of the best of this stretch. The writers seemed to have fixed the Edser screen time issue that plagued the last episode. I always want more, but there was enough in this episode to where at least I didn’t feel cheated. The episode was a lot lighter and had more of a romcom feel than any since Serkan lost his memory and I welcomed that as well. There were a number of very enjoyable Edser scenes AND the icing was very little Selin.

That gave the episode room to breath, and room for Serkan and Eda to breath, which was much needed.

Their bickering, starting at the station was fun to watch. And while I was pretty skeptical about an episode centered on Serkan trying to get Eda to admit her engagement is fake, it lead to some fun scenes. Him taunting her in the office about love gave us back some of that old romantic comedy sexual tension. Engin’s couple game gave us a few good moments, but, wow, it was really, really poorly constructed. Seriously, Serkan, you have to find someone savvier to do this sort of work for you. Leyla would have been better, even Erdem would have done better! Probably. But the looks that Eda and Serkan were giving each other through that sequence gave me life. Squinting, peering one eye open, but always finding one another. Good stuff.

As for the boxing, I’m glad they waited to do that sequence for a time when she had some anger at him to deal with! It just wouldn’t have been the same if they’d been playfully sparring. I equally enjoyed her beating the shit out of him and how hot her climbing all over him was.

The catwalk was hot. Like really, super duper, 5 alarm fire, hot. I love that the editors made a 30 foot runway seem like it was 300 feet. And when they turned and she put her hand on his shoulder. I swooned. I don’t even care that it makes no sense to ask your architects to walk in a fashion show... though when one of your architects is as next level beautiful as Eda, you can see why they’d want her. (Sorry Selin, they probably saw you walk at the charity show too, but passed) Though why did they want Deniz? He’s not famous or attractive. It would have made more sense if they’d wanted the famous and handsome Serkan Bolat from the start. Though this way was more fun. GO MELO. BEST FRIEND EVER. Can we get her some sort of prize? She has her dada’s back, ALWAYS. Serkan and Eda are going to owe her for life.

Having Eda fall off the boat was... extra. Especially since I’m sure she will be fished out no worse for the wear right off the top. Is it too much to ask that Serkan accuses Selin of pushing her? Please!?!?!?

Anonymous said: is it bad that deniz is now annoying me more as a villian than selin.. granted, last ep selin had very little screentime (thank god) and when she was there was usually playing third wheel to edser.. but deniz is slowly getting worse and worse.. manipulating eda into continuing their fake game and now basically pulling the puppet strings with selin. as much as i hated how ceren told serkan about the fake engagement, i WAS rooting her on when she yelled at him about him taking advantage of eda.

Deniz needs to take a long walk off a short pier. Good gawd he’s really turned into a psycho, hasn’t he?

Look, I know Eda and Serkan are both awesome. They’re insanely good looking and charming and smart and successful, BUT, PEOPLE, even they are not worth losing your dignity and your sanity over. Balca, The Prince, Selin and Deniz... all gone crazy over them.

With Selin this episode, though, she sort of struck me as resigned to her fate. Like she’s still going through the motions of being a psycho stalker and playing the game, but deep down she knows she’s lost. She’s seen this movie before, she knows what it looks like when Serkan is falling in love with Eda, and she knows it’s happening again and that she doesn’t stand a chance. She’ll keep trying on the off chance Eda gets hit by a bus (or falls off a boat) and because she is seriously not right in the brain, but she’s lost all her swagger.

Think about all StalkerSelin has witnessed. In 30 she saw them having intense moments by the fire, in 31 she saw them having intense moments on the boat. She knows Serkan took off on her birthday to go help Eda with the project and they spent all day together. Then later that same day she was abandon by him before she could blow out her candles so that he could go save Eda, then she saw him sleep snuggling with Eda, all so they could come back and she could go spy on him planting terrariums with Eda and then he lies to her face and she watches him go to meet Eda for dinner. In this episode, Eda and Serkan were bickering about whether or not Serkan was staring at Eda and they didn’t stop when Selin entered the office and neither one even seemed to noticed her! Serkan is fixated on Eda and Selin knows it.

She was acting defeated before she got the photos. Now that she has them... what will she do? Crawl in hole and die? One can hope!

Anonymous said: just general thoughts: i was able to enjoy this episode way more than the previous ones and not cause there was miracle occurrence in the episode.. but because there was minimal selin lol. the selin fatigue is real!!! it also helps that while yes, serkan was teasing and trying to rile eda up, he wasn't using selin to do it this episode. for some reason with how it's going (and with neslihan's emoji spoilers for next ep) i do believe he's gonna remember at the end of next ep.

The Selin fatigue is real. They really ruined what could have been an interesting and good batch of episodes by inserting her unnecessarily into the plot. I really think amnesia was enough drama and enough of a stumbling block without this aggravating nonsense. Every second she is on screen is a chore to watch.

As for him remembering at the end of next episode, it’s possible. A lot of people are out there selling spoilers (which almost every source of spoilers has been so wrong so many times, that I’m not sure why anyone pays attention to any of them anymore) that he remembers by the end of the next ep.

Here’s the thing though, he has to tell Eda he loves her before he remembers. That’s what all of this has been leading to, him falling in love with her again from scratch, so as long as that happens, it’s plausible. But any theory that involves him getting his memories back and then going after her... doesn’t ring true to me. I mean with this batch of writers anything could happen, (because they have some issues) but if they do that, then I have no idea what this entire arc has been about.

Anonymous said: The mystery person has got to be Ferit, right? ever since that first episode back, they've been sure to throw in one scene each episode where he's delivering some sort of warning to Selin telling her to knock it off. Unless its a random new/returning character that we haven't seen as part of this arc yet.

I don’t know. He’s definitely a suspect, but here’s my thing with that theory, a) Ferit is not the sharpest tool in the shed b) Ferit is usually such a straight forward, honest character. I mean this is the guy that blurted out in episode 1 how happy he was that Serkan was engaged to such a beautiful woman because he considered him his rival for Selin. No filter.

It’s hard for me to believe he’s become this diabolical and sneaky and savvy. I feel like if he had the photos he’d just hand them to Serkan. But we’ll see.

He’s on my list of potentials, but I also wonder if someone hired a PI or someone to follow Selin, and on that list of suspects for me is Aydan, Babaanne, Alptekin and Serkan himself.

Anonymous said: one of my fav scenes from last ep was weirdly the girl talk scene between melo, eda, and ayfer. them talking about eda's feelings and encouraging her was much needed. and for once in the entire show, ayfer actually spoke some sense.. guess her little stint with alex woke up her eyes to love or something lmao. we need more scenes like that where character motivations are laid out plainly.

Ayfer made up for a LOT with that one scene. Wow, she actually wasn’t thinking selfishly and put Eda’s heart first and didn’t immediately vilify Serkan. A miracle!

It was a very good scene. And when I rank characters (in my head) from best to worst, she’s now above Piril and Ceren! Oh man, Ceren really out did herself with the way she framed Eda’s fake engagement to Serkan. I really don’t understand where her rage at Eda came from, but she better seek help soon if she wants any chance at redemption.

Also I know it’s terrible, but when Piril was upset about Engin potentially cheating... I LAUGHED out loud. I think I might have also yelled, “SUFFER BITCH!” I really can’t stand her and I loved seeing her miserable. After enabling Selin she deserves the pain.

Anonymous said: So I kind of felt bad for Serkan because of Eda’s strong reaction to him kissing her but at the same time, not. His out of the blue invitation to dinner and the kiss with no explanation was just never going to go over very well after his recent behavior. And of course she was going to think he got his memory back because in her mind it is the only explanation for him kissing her at this point. But at the same time it would have been really interesting to see how he reacted to her just pulling him in for another kiss. He clearly would have been totally into it and then who knows how the rest of the episode would have gone 🤷🏻‍♀️. They are stuck in a bad cycle, he overlooks her sensitivity to things due to not remembering their past and she is unable to overlook his insensitivity due to their past together. And the writers want to keep dragging this out so Eda & Serkan are constantly interrupted before they can talk stuff out.

They did a nice job of finally having Eda talk about what’s going on in her brain box. She wants her Serkan back just as he was before. Which is understandable, but she’s pinning all of her hopes on Serkan remembering and when he doesn’t she loses it.

Thank goodness Melo and Ayfer were there to gently talk some sense to her. It isn’t his fault that he doesn’t remember and he’s not doing it on purpose. And as Melo said he’s falling in love with her again, him walking in and kissing her was a big sign of that. I think we all worried he was going to say something jerkish to her after the kiss, but he didn’t. He was just honest that he didn’t remember, and I think slapping him was a little harsh. I mean she’s definitely not in the wrong here, he’s been a whole jackass at times, but she’s putting all her effort into getting him to remember, and she’s not succeeding, but she should maybe recognize when she’s making other headway with him. You know, like him arranging a dinner and walking up and kissing her. Maybe ride that wave and see where it goes!

As you said, if she’d kissed him again, things would have ended differently. Or if instead of getting angry she had said, “Okay, you kissed me but you still don’t remember, where do we go from here?” However, slapping him in that moment is very true to her character. We know she reacts emotionally, and her spontaneity and volatility are a part of her, and he loved all of her.

Anonymous said: I guess the writers pay attention to some details - seems the project that got cancelled in 32 was the same Serkan said was going badly in 28. But not other details - Leyla puts down the papers to say the project was cancelled without telling Serkan, knowing that he'd see them on his desk right away, and he does. So wouldn't he have noticed the envelope the day of the surprise dinner? He had plenty of opportunity. I thought this ep it would be revealed he saw the pics but he didn't seem to know.

I find it hella hard to believe that those photos sat on his desk all day and he didn’t open them (in 33) or that they hit his desk this episode after Eda handed them to him and he didn’t open them. So, yeah, either he’s seen them or this was a big writing fail. (Right now I’m thinking it was a big writing fail).

Though personally, at this point, I don’t want them to be found until after Serkan declares his love for Eda. Let him make the decision and then lets have the evidence that makes everything guilt free and easier to humiliate and punish S/D.

Anonymous said: Is Deniz trying to trick Eda into a real legal marriage? is that what is about to happen here? I can't decide if he is worse than Selin now. I'm going to need Ayfer to bring back her threat to expose everything.

They can be equally psycho and bad. I’m not sure overall he’s worse, yet, but he was definitely way worse this episode. How has Eda not noticed that he has interrupted intense moments between her and Serkan too many times to be helpful? That’s one thing I hate about this storyline is that they have had to dumb down both Eda and Serkan to make it work.

I have no idea what Deniz’s end game is. Is he going to trick her into marriage? But even so, what then? If she thinks it’s a fake ceremony, but it’s real, what does he think Eda is going to do? Does he really think she’ll think his lies and tricks are charming, and stay married to him?

Or does he think that if he gets Eda to the wedding day, and Serkan doesn’t make a move, Eda will just go “Okay, then I guess I might as well marry you for real.” Good grief. The guy is delusional.

I admit that I yelled, “FUCK YOU” multiple times during his scenes. This was a very vocal episode for me. I was so happy when Melo outmaneuvered him at the fashion show. Finally, someone was able to turn the tables on him.

Anonymous said: I am so tired of hearing on Twitter that the Eda is entirely to blame for Edser not being reunited yet. Nope, that does not rest entirely on Eda or Serkan’s shoulders. The writers have created a never ending cycle of the two of them hurting each other directly & indirectly and also being manipulated by their so called childhood friend/fiancés. This Serkan does not even believe in true love and has been manipulated to think Eda is an awful person. Eda has been watching the love of her life getting cozy with Selin and he has repeatedly told her that they do not have a future together not to mention Deniz’s manipulations as well. Regardless of what they are each feeling, they do not think the other person feels the same way. The fake engagement with Deniz is awful just like Serkan’s real engagement with Selin is but again not solely Eda’s fault. And saying that Eda needs to be the bigger person because she has her memories is not fair. She does not know if he will ever get them back and again he has repeatedly said they have no future together & he is with Selin. Eda walks into that office everyday to be close to him and she puts up with his crap comments and the bs from Selin in the hope that things turnaround. And for the boxing scene, yes, it would have been great if Eda has poured out her true feelings but not 100% sure the writers would have let Serkan reciprocate in that moment not to mention Deniz showed up 3 seconds later. The real people to blame are the writers that came up with this plot where no one wins.

Someone said Eda is entirely to blame for Edser not being reunited yet? Where are you hanging out on twitter? You need to find better people to follow who understand that Serkan HAS AMNESIA and is being manipulated. No need to play the blame game on this one, it’s a horrible situation for both of them.

Eda has been dealt a lousy hand, very lousy, she and Serkan are both victimes here trying to find their way out. That being say, she decided to go on the offensive and play a game, and in that game she’s made some tactical errors. Which is not laying blame it’s just saying she’s made some missteps.

Where she’s going wrong, as I said above, is that she is doing everything to get Serkan to remember, and she isn’t focused in on the fact that he’s falling back in love with her regardless of his memory. That’s pretty extraordinary!

I really think when she answered “Yes” to loving Deniz and wanting to marry him, that was one of those missteps. A big one. I’m not saying she should have bared her soul right then and there, but I think she probably would have been better off not answering the questions at all. Perhaps telling him that he can’t ask her that while he’s engaged to Selin. Turn it back on him, but saying she loves Deniz when they were having a very serious, raw moment... mistake. And that’s why the whole thing is going to go right up until the wedding day. Let’s hope one of them puts their stubbornness aside before she’s shackled to a psycho. (Don’t worry, they will).

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #sckask #sck 1x34 #sck episode discussion #asklizac

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irrelevantwriter · 5 years

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Angel’s Goodbye

Pairing: (Mayans MC) Angel Reyes x Latina!OFC

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluid, Angel being hot as fuck, Angel’s ringed fingers (bc that shit fucks me up hardcore)

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: A booty call. Porn without much plot.

A/N: Okay, so this is all Ashley’s @negansdirtygirl22 fault! I had this fic more than halfway done and now that Ashley is thirsting over Angel’s fine ass like I am, I decided to finish and publish it. This is purely self-serving and I’m okay with that. Please read, enjoy, and share with your friends!

*Masterlist in bio.

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

Isabelle hummed softly to herself as she finished putting away laundry that had been sitting in a basket for nearly a week. The television was on in the background, but she wasn’t paying it any attention. The bedroom was awash in a soft light, the darkness of the late hour not lost on her. A small shiver ran up her spine as she walked on bare feet across the hardwood floors to put her clothes away. There was a slight chill in the air and she made a mental note to turn the heat up before she went to bed.

A door opening and closing within the house made her stop abruptly, the scrap of lace she’d been putting away clenched in her hand. The noise had startled her and she listened for just a beat before the sound of familiar voices eased her nerves somewhat.

“Angel?” She called out, stepping closer into the darkened hallway. Two figures stepped forward and Isabelle clutched her chest at the scare. The two men smiled down at her, one looking like a lovesick puppy and the other looking away out of respect for her state of undress.

“Hey, baby…” Angel rasped, his hands immediately coming forward to rest on her rounded hips. He leaned down to place a chaste kiss to her lips and her body responded automatically, reciprocating the action.

Isabelle looked behind him at the other man and smiled sheepishly, trying to use Angel’s body as somewhat of a shield to her scantily clad form. She was wearing shorts that were probably categorized more as underwear and a thin shirt that dipped low off one shoulder…not a bra strap in sight. It was her sleep attire and while not suitable for company, it was perfectly comfortable for bed.

“Hey, Ezekiel…” Isabelle gave a small wave and the younger Reyes returned it with a smile, trying to avoid looking at her naked legs. She belatedly realized she’d waved with the hand that still clutched a wad of black lace and hastily threw it onto the bed and out of sight. Both men smirked in amusement at the gesture.

“Hi, Isa…sorry to show up so late.” EZ apologized, knowing his older brother had not given Isabelle notice of their arrival, judging by her surprised reaction.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure my darling, thoughtful boyfriend meant to text me.” She said with a pointed stare and arched brow directed towards the man who still held her against him. His hands roamed towards her backside, a smirk planted firmly on his face as he stared down at her.

“I thought it. Did I do it? No.” He said with a smile. “You know me better than that, mi amor.”

Isabelle smiled up at him, unable to be mad at the love of her life for too long. And he was right, she did know him better than that…better than most.

“What’re you guys doing here anyway?” She asked, directing the question to EZ because Angel was too preoccupied with his hands on her ass to provide a real answer. Isabelle was just thankful EZ couldn’t see that his older brother was trying to grope her in front of him. Though he probably had an idea. And Angel had tried to do worst in front of his brother. He got some kind of thrill out of making EZ turn red, whether from anger or embarrassment.

“Pit stop, baby…on our way back to the clubhouse to handle some shit.”

Angel surprised her by answering, but she nodded in acceptance. It was nearing ten o’clock, but the MC forced the guys to keep strange hours. It wasn’t unusual for Angel to be in and out throughout the day and night. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d learned to deal with it.

“And your bikes? Didn’t hear them when you pulled up.” She inquired, squirming against Angel as he rubbed his facial hair against her neck. He knew what that sensation did to her and she pushed back against his chest to keep from moaning in front of EZ.

“Came in the van.” Angel mumbled, finally untangling himself from her. He moved so that EZ could see her full on and she struggled not to grab the throw blanket she kept at the end of their bed. EZ shook his head and laughed at his brother’s antics, all while still diverting his eyes away from her.

“I’m gonna go to the kitchen.” EZ called out, already turning away from them. The awkwardness of the situation was becoming far too apparent.

��There’s leftovers in the fridge, EZ. And beer. Help yourself.” Isabelle called as he started to move further down the hall. He turned to nod his head in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Isa.” He said, a genuine smile on his face. It warmed her heart. The younger Reyes seemed to be having a tough go of it as of late so anything Isabelle could offer to the man, who she also thought of as a brother, she would.

“Bout time…” Angel growled once EZ had disappeared into the kitchen. He attached himself back to her, his hands now firmly griping her ass and his lips connecting with the flesh of her neck. She was caught off guard as she gripped Angel’s shirt in her hands and struggled to get her bearings.

“Lil brother doesn’t know how to take a fucking hint.” He murmured against her neck. She laughed, but angled her face so that he was forced to look down at her.

“He does. He just does it to fuck with you…you both do.”

“Yeah well, I miss my girl.”

Angel’s voice was soft and low as he changed the tone of the room from playful to intense in seconds. She loved that about him. He would pick the most unpredictable times to be vulnerable with her. He trusted her enough to do that. It made her heart beat faster and her thighs clench in want. She’d missed him too.

“Did you bring your brother to a booty call?”

Her words made a real laugh break from his lips and she felt warm inside when the sound filled her ears. His face went back into her neck, his mouth not just ghosting across her skin anymore but now marking her. It was a clear display of ownership. Angel loved to flaunt her, case in point, the little display he’d put on in front of his brother, but he also liked to make it known that she was not on the market. The whole idea was incredibly sexist and barbaric, but she couldn’t help the rush of arousal that swept through her every time he marked his territory.

“Your brother is in the kitchen, Angel.”

The words were meant to be a stern warning, but they came out breathy and more like a moan. His tongue was lapping at her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His calloused hands ran up and down her back, his rings making her shiver as they ran across her now heated flesh.

“So, we gotta be quiet then.” He challenged, his hands already moving to the waistband of her black shorts. He was edging them closer to the bed while a foot kicked out and caused the bedroom door to slam shut. That had to be obvious to the man in the next room.

“Ezekiel’s gonna know what we’re doing.” She tried again, though she doubted she’d get through to him. And with the way he was caressing her, she didn’t think she wanted to.

“He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” Angel whispered as he picked her up, allowing her legs to instantly wrap around his waist. Their lips finally met in the passionate embrace they were so used to and it felt like home. Isabelle got lost in all the sensations. She lost herself against his lips and tongue. She let her hands grip his thick strands of hair as he rubbed himself against her. The denim between them created a friction she wanted more of.

“Bed.” She demanded breathlessly, and he followed without hesitation. The soft mattress met her back as Angel laid her down. Her long, black hair fanned out around her as he hovered above her. His dark eyes watched her intently, his face not giving away anything. But Isabelle knew what he was thinking. She knew what he was feeling. Because she was thinking and feeling the same things.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

His voice was like grit and silk all at the same time. Years of smoking made him sound dangerous, but the emotion behind his words gave him away. Isabelle smiled almost shyly up at him through dark lashes. She could feel her body respond, her brain becoming drunk off pheromones. Lust and love had her spreading her legs, inviting him to the place she needed him most. He accepted the silent request and began to undress before her.

Angel’s eyes seared through her as he threw his leather off and worked the buttons on his flannel shirt. She watched, teeth biting her lower lip in anticipation. Tan skin with splashes of dark ink were revealed to her inch by inch. Her own dark eyes were feasting on the display. Even though she’d seen him naked a thousand times, she felt like every time was the first. It still felt new. He still made her feel the butterflies.

A crooked smiled crossed his lips as he removed his shirt and went to the buckle on his belt. Isabelle moved from her spot, eager to taste him. She moved towards him on her knees, his hands immediately steadying her as they settled around her waist. She only smiled up at him as she laid her lips across his scarred and tatted chest. A heavy hand tangled itself into her hair, rings pulling at the strands. A low groan escaped his lips as she moved over his chest and to the spot just below his ear that made him come alive under her touch. She licked a path from his collarbone to his neck, small hands sliding over the firm muscles of his abdomen. She let a delicate finger trace the trail of dark hair that disappeared under his jeans and his hand immediately tightened in her hair.

“I need you, querida…” A hand stopped her from continuing and she nodded. Foreplay was not a necessity at this point.

Angel gripped the edge of her shirt, dragging it slowly up her body. She could feel her nipples peak once the cool air met her overheated skin. His rough hands palmed each breast once her shirt was out of the way. She pushed herself further into him, urging him to be greedy and take all of her. His mouth descended on hers again as he went back to her shorts, now pushing them down to reveal herself. She maneuvered the shorts off her body, throwing them behind her.

Angel gently pushed her back onto the bed and she obeyed. He went to work on his own pants once again, his gaze never leaving hers. She could hear the thud of his boots as he removed them, his boxers and jeans following. He grasped himself, letting her see the effect she had over him. Isabelle moaned, intoxicated off the sight. She rubbed her thighs together impatiently, blood pumping to her center at an alarming rate.

“Ángel…” She purred softly, knowing the cadence in which she said his name would bring him to her. And it did. He moved over her, caging her in as he attacked her neck and chest. His facial hair scratched at her skin, but the burn only heightened her arousal. His hands moved everywhere and all at once. She returned the sentiments in kind. Her hands ran down his back, her hips arching up into his to persuade him inside. His hard flesh was nestled between her legs, teasing her opening.

“Ready for me, baby?”

His lips were right by her ear, pulling her further under the waves of passion she was riding. She answered him by opening her legs wider, ensuring he slipped into her slightly. It was a teaser. A promise of what was to come.

He groaned above her at the action. He sat up and gripped himself, rubbing along her swollen lips. He was coating himself in her essence, readying them both for the plunge. Slowly, almost painfully, Angel entered her. The feeling was euphoric.

“Fuck, baby…” He cursed lowly against her collarbone, forehead pressed tight to her cheek.

Isabelle moaned, limbs tightening around his body as he began to thrust lazily above her. She dug her nails into is back, aware of how much he was a slave to the sensation. She was awarded with a hiss and a sharp thrust of his hips, her cervix reaping the benefits. She bit hard into her lip as the sound of her slickened walls reverberated in the room, the sound of him entering her obscene.

“Oh, Angel…fuck, right there.” She whimpered, head thrown back so that his mouth could have free reign of her flesh. He was balancing over her, the angle of his thrusts now more pronounced. A heavy hand with thick silver rings came to her throat and rested there. Her pulse jumped at the action, inexplicably turned on by it. He squeezed lightly and a moan shot past her lips in delight.

“You like that?” He growled into her ear, hips punctuating his words.

Isabelle’s body answered for her as her walls clutched him tighter, a slight spasm rolling through her. She used her foot to urge him deeper, urged him to penetrate her soul. She knew it was impossible, but she could never get enough of him. He always left her craving for more, even after they’d both satiated the other. It was an ongoing cycle…one that she didn’t want to end.

The headboard began to thump against the wall with his rapid movements, his end nearing. Angel squeezed her neck again, tighter than the last, while his forehead rested against hers. The moment was highly erotic and it made Isabelle’s spine arch harshly off the bed.

She could see the comprehension in his eyes, recognizing how close she was. She watched as he removed his hand from her and brought it to his mouth, using his tongue to slicken it. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled when she felt his calloused, spit-soaked fingers assault her clit. An unintelligible sound left her throat as she tensed and rolled with the waves of her intense orgasm.

Angel continued to fuck her through it, catching each contraction with his hips. Only towards the end, when her body was tremoring in small bouts, did he hold still. He looked down at her twisted body, a post-coitus glow now coloring her tan skin. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, her walls still fighting to suck him in.

“Damn, you’re still going.” He commented in amazement, eyes glued to where they were both still joined.

Isabelle whined as he began to move again to chase his own bliss. He stayed upright as he moved, captivated by the way she accepted him. She could feel the slickness between her thighs, aiding Angel’s thrusts. His hands held her wide, his tongue peeking from the confines of his bearded lips. A wayward strand of ink-colored hair fell into is eyes. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth as he moved inside of her, the chords in his neck prominent as he neared the finish line.

“Shit, baby…I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he gave two more thrusts and stopped, gripping her fleshy thighs as he released within her walls.

She savored the feeling, watching from beneath hooded eyes as he threw his head back and gave himself over to her completely. It was a hypnotic sight and one she would never tire of.

He eased up his hold on her, red indentions in her skin replacing his fingers. She longed for his marks on her body, the proof that he was there before and would be again. He grimaced as he slowly eased out of her slack body, soaking up the way he spilled from her depths. He took his time. He always did. He had a fascination about teasing her body once he’d made her cum. It was deliciously cruel.

She let out a wince as he rubbed himself against her, coating them both in stickiness. He bumped her abused clit and she jerked away, overstimulated and exhausted. He snickered at her reaction, pleased to see her so thoroughly fatigued.

“Ángel…you know how sensitive I get.” She gently chastised, unable to close her legs against his ministrations. He stood between them, hands now lovingly caressing her thighs and hips. He got especially tender after sex and liked to be constantly touching her in some form or fashion. It was a side to Angel no one but her got to see. And she was addicted to it.

“God, you look so fucking good like this.” His hands smoothed up her hips from her thighs, and finally to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, teasing her nipples back into hardened peaks.

Isabelle found herself blushing from both his words and his actions. The way he was staring down at her made her feel like she was the only person he saw…the only one he’d ever want to see.

“Lemme take a picture of you, mi amor.” He licked his lips seductively, attempting to persuade her.

Unfortunately, it was working. The man had swagger.

“En serio?” She threw back with a raised eyebrow. She had a smile on her face, finding his boldness amusing.

He continued to caress her body, going from her breasts and back down to her stomach and thighs. His hands were rough from hard labor, but he touched with a softness that made her beg for more. The man was a complete oxymoron. He looked mean. He looked tough. He looked like he’d kick your ass. But underneath he was the true definition of a gentleman. He spoke with wisdom that many overlooked. And he was always the first to show his love. He was hers. In every way possible.

“I can take it on runs with me. Something I can use when you aren’t with me.” He bent down and rubbed his facial hair into her neck, still trying to plead his case for a picture. “No one will see it but me.”

Isabelle found herself ready to say yes before he’d even started begging. The man was a charmer and he knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Hey, Angel! Bishop called. We gotta head out.” EZ’s voice suddenly cut through the mood and the closed bedroom door.

Angel sighed, knowing he’d lost his chance to convince her. She laughed, running her fingers through his hair as he collapsed against her chest.

“I don’t wanna go.” He pouted with a sigh, lips grazing the side of her breast. She smiled warmly at his reluctance to leave her, mirroring his feeling.

“Will you be home later?”

“Yeah, should be. If it changes I’ll let you know.” He replied sleepily, her motions in his hair causing him to become far too relaxed.

“You should go, mi amor…Don’t need EZ coming in to drag you back.” She joked as he began to lift himself from her body.

“Like to see him try.” He flirted with a wink, his hair now ruffled from her fingers. He helped her sit up, hands cradling her face. They kissed, tongues moving together in tandem. His fingers tangled in her hair, something she noticed he did often.

“Te quiero, mi dulce.” He mumbled against her lips, soft brown eyes reflecting the sincerity in his words and voice.

Isabelle caught his lips again, stroking his biceps. “Te quiero, mi Ángel.” She replied once they’d broken apart.

He began to get dressed, handing her clothes to her as he went. When the last button on his flannel was done, he moved towards her and kissed her quickly on the lips. Isabelle tightened the sash on her robe, forgoing redressing until she cleaned up Angel’s mess.

“We’ll finish that conversation when I get back.” He warned with a ringed finger pointed in her direction. A dangerous smirk adorned his lips, that playful look back in his eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” She teased, knowing she was a goner. “Cuidado.” She pleaded in a more serious tone, catching his eye as he walked to the bedroom door. He grinned, a mixture of love and mischief.

“Always am, baby.” He opened the door and shot her one last heart-melting smile before he was shouting for his brother. “Let’s go, Prospect!”

Isabelle shook her head and laughed, listening to them bicker as they left. She felt her cheeks heat when she overhead EZ teasing Angel about what he’d heard. Angel being Angel, only boasted, not the least bit embarrassed.

She listened to them drive off, heart swelling and thighs sticking. Angel always knew how to give the best goodbyes.

#angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans fx

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sarah-wants-to-write · 4 years

Text

Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Four (Criminal Minds)

“It takes courage to live, yes, but it takes true bravery to stand your ground in a world aligned against you.” -Jake Bonsignore

◊ Shira didn’t know which forest she was in, but she knew it wasn’t far from the city. They hadn’t driven that long. Whoever it was, they had taken care not to hit her head or break her glasses, which meant they knew about her EDS and Brittle Cornea Syndrome. Bound with her arms above her head, forced to kneel, she looked for any sign of where she was.

“Alison, listen to me,” she called out to the girl, bound to another tree nearby “it’ll be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“How can you promise her that?” the Unsub asked, voice deep and raspy “and here I thought you were a genius.”

“I can promise her that because I’m here,” Shira countered, focused on the area of his face “and it’s been me you’re after, this whole time.”

“And yet it took you this long to figure it out?” he replied, the laugh in his voice grating at her. Yet she knew not to antagonize.

“What can I say?” she shrugged “You make for some fierce competition.”

As she spoke, she wracked her brain for every fan name she could think of, trying to remember his name. Minnesota. OBK. Who was…

Her blood ran cold, as she finally remembered.

“You did all this for me, Kolbeck?” she asked as he walked towards Alison, causing him to stop in his tracks “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered.”

“And here I thought you’d forgotten about me,” He turned, pulling his hood back so Shira could see him “you never responded to my letters.”

“A mistake on my part,” Shira replied, playing along to try and distract him “or maybe I was scared. You really were giving me a run for my money, Oscar.”

“Seems you’ve learned,” Kolbeck declared, walking over to Shira “just like me.”

The beat of silence, with him bringing the tip of his blade under her chin, had Shira resisting the urge to shiver.

“Pay attention, Doctor,” he told her “our fun is just beginning.”

When the team got to Kolbeck’s address, the house was dark and empty.

“Should have known he wouldn’t be here,” Rossi muttered, once they confirmed the house was clear “now that he’s got her, he’s not gonna wait.”

“Reid, Morgan, tear his office apart,” Hotch ordered, his desperation to stay calm almost visible “see what you can find to tell us about where he’d have taken Alison and Shira.”

“Shira’s abduction was about opportunity,” Emily declared as the others left “it was the first time she was anywhere close to vulnerable since we got here.”

“Takes guts to stage an abduction in front of a police station,” Rossi agreed “or desperation. After all, he still has Alison.”

“He wants to make her watch,” Emily replied “after all, he’s a fan of hers. Maybe he’s looking for her approval?”

“Or to show he’s better than her,” Hotch spoke up “prove to her that she isn’t the expert and genius that everyone makes her out to be.”

“Makes sense, if he’s a narcissistic misogynist,” Rossi nodded, watching Hotch closely “the idea of any woman being better than him is too much. Bet if we look at his history with the other victims, they’ll all have had interactions with him where he perceived them as acting superior.”

As silence fell on the three, Emily left to help the others, leaving Hotch and Rossi alone.

“We’ll find her, kid,” Rossi promised, seeing the younger man’s shoulders tense up “she’s strong, and smart. She’ll be able to keep him distracted. She knows we’re coming.”

“I just hope we don’t get there too late,” Hotch replied “for Alison’s sake, and…”

Their names were called, and both men rushed to the office, were the others were standing over a table.

“We found a map,” came Reid’s voice, moving so that Hotch could see it “it’s got the different crime scenes plotted out, but the organization is odd.”

Looking at the map, Hotch could see the pattern right away.

“Mannaz,” he declared “the rune for Man. There’s seven points. This one’s missing.”

He pointed to the spot in the middle, between the two lines of points.

“He’s focused on the mythology, he has to keep to the plan,” Rossi agreed “that’s where he’ll be.”

“Don’t close your eyes, Alison,” Shira called over, watching as the girl resisted the urge to pass out “stay with me! It’ll be okay!”

Shira tried to remember every detail, watching what Kolbeck was doing. He was taking blood from Alison to draw the sigil and runes.

“You know, there’s something I don’t get Oscar,” she continued, earning his attention from bandaging the other woman up “blood is a normal part of sacrifice, but why carve the symbol into each tree? Isn’t the blood enough? Or do you need to leave your scar where people can see?”

“See, more proof you’re not the genius people make you out to be,” Kolbeck taunted, pointing the knife at Shira “hypocritical of you to call someone out for making their mark.”

“At least I didn’t hurt anyone,” Shira growled, struggling against her restraints as he stalked closer “you could have done so much more, Oscar!”

“Didn’t hurt anyone?!” Kolbeck shouted “you coming on the scene destroyed any chance at a successful career! You stole that from me!”

“How can I steal something you never had?” Shira taunted, trying desperately to keep his attention on her.

Kolbeck’s slap to her face sent Shira to the ground, pulling her shoulder out of its socket and twisting her ankle.

“I was set to be a leader, the best!” he cried out, hands shaking in anger “but you, a young girl with no reputation, took the entire field by storm and stole that from me!”

“Then focus on me,” Shira hissed “she has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, I have something better planned for you,” Kolbeck smirked, pulling her up by her hair “why do you think the chains and hooks are here?”

Shira immediately knew what he was referring to.

“You want revenge,” she growled “you’ll use Hrafnkel’s fate, from the Freysgoða.”

“You’ll be hung from the ankles like the piece of meat you are.” Kolbeck grinned.

“I don’t think so, Oscar!”

The sudden sound of Hotch’s voice had Kolbeck pulling Shira up as a human shield, his knife to her throat. Trying not to cry out, Shira watched as the team emerged from the forest with police backup. Hotch and Rossi were the closest, guns trained on Kolbeck.

“Alison’s lost blood, but he bandaged her up.” Shira called to them, wincing at the pull to her dislocated shoulder and weight on her ankle.

“Let her go, Oscar,” Rossi spoke up “you wanted to make a name for yourself, you don’t want to die before you can see it happen.”

“I’ll be remembered forever!” Kolbeck replied, growling “the entire country will know my name!”

“Not for long,” Hotch countered “you die, your name will be in the news for a while, but then they’ll move on.

“Let her go, Oscar.” Hotch continued, and even in the dark, Shira could see his eyes shining in anger and fear. Shira could feel the knife pulling away, but she knew that he wouldn’t go quietly. She had to act, they needed him alive to exact justice.

Stomped on his foot, forcing his legs apart.

Backwards kick to the groin to incapacitate.

Elbow to the nose when he let her go.

A punch to the face to disorient, and for her own satisfaction.

Rossi and Hotch ran up behind her, Rossi handcuffing Kolbeck as Hotch caught Shira, removing her restraints.

“He was going to make me watch Alison die,” she declared, shock starting to set in “then he was going to turn on me. Make me suffer like Hrafnkel in the Freysgoða. Pierce my ankles and hang me like a piece of meat…”

“You’re safe,” Hotch promised “you’re safe, Shira. We got him. He won't be able to hurt you.”

She let out a strangled sob, nearly collapsing from the pain of her ankle and shoulder. Yet she did her best to keep from breaking down. She couldn't let him see what he did to her. She wouldn't let Kolbeck have the satisfaction.

Hotch could tell she was having trouble standing, holding onto him. He kept Shira upright, until Kolbeck was gone. Once Rossi had the man gone, Hotch led Shira to a tree root to sit down.

“Where are you injured?” he asked, kneeling in front of her, seeing the way her left shoulder looked out of place.

“Got roughed up a good bit,” Shira replied, quiet “when I was tied up, my hands were above me. He slapped me hard enough to send me to the ground, so the force pulled my arm from my shoulder. Twisted my ankle on the way down.”

“I can see the bruises,” Hotch muttered, looking at the blooming red marks on her face and wrists “anything else?”

“Just that,” she declared, shaking her head “he only got as far as taking blood from Alison, to mark the trees.”

“We’ll get your statement after you’ve been taken care of,” he insisted, looking Shira in the eye “you’re in no condition to be doing anything else.”

“I…I don’t think I can walk,” she muttered, cradling her left arm to her chest “wouldn’t be able to lean on you…”

Morgan had come over while they were talking, after paramedics had taken care of Alison, standing far enough back so he could watch. Seeing the gentle way Hotch handled Shira, Morgan couldn’t help wondering at how everything had played out.

“Alison said that she’d probably be dead, if it weren’t for you,” he spoke up, earning Hotch and Shira’s attention “said you distracted him enough that he left her alone. That was good work, Doctor.”

“Thank you,” Shira replied, smiling tiredly “I just knew I couldn’t let him hurt her more…”

“Save your energy,” Morgan told her, seeing how tired she was “Hotch, we can take it from here, if you want to go to the hospital with her.”

“Keep in contact.” Hotch ordered, waiting for Morgan to nod before turning to Shira.

“Put your good arm around me,” he told her gently “I’m taking you to the ambulance.”

When Shira leaned in, putting her arm around his neck, Hotch an arm around her waist and one under her knees, gently lifting her and holding her close. Morgan watched as Hotch took her away, meeting with the second group of paramedics at the tree line.

“White knight rescuing his lady,” came Emily’s voice from right behind him, causing Morgan to jump a little “she’s one hell of a woman.”

“Perfect fit for him,” Morgan agreed, rolling his eyes at her laughter “wonder where they’ll take it from here.”

To say that Hotch was beside himself would be an understatement. On the ride to the hospital, Shira had fallen unconscious. He sat unmoving in the waiting room, left there by the doctors as they checked her over.

“Agent Hotchner?” he looked up at the sound of the doctor calling his name.

“How is she?” he asked, standing and walking to meet the other man.

“She passed out from the pain and adrenaline crash,” the doctor explained, smiling to reassure Hotch “we were able to get her shoulder back in place, and her ankle is being taken care of. We’ve sedated her so she can sleep the rest of the night, so she can get her rest despite her pain. Thanks to you telling us of her EDS, we were able to make her comfortable enough in the bed, so hopefully she won’t deal with any more dislocations or subluxations.”

“Has she been taken to a room?” Hotch asked, shoulders sagging in relief.

“She will be soon, but visiting hours will be over soon,” the doctor replied “I’ll get her room number for you, and you’ll be able to see her in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Hotch nodded, reaching and shaking the doctor’s hand. Once he was gone, Hotch nearly collapsed into a nearby chair, elbows on his knees as his head hung low.

Why was all of this affecting him so much? He knew her, to be sure, but not so well that he’d be so torn up about her.

There was only one conclusion, but he couldn’t think about it. Not after what had happened to Hayley. The thought of Shira dying because of his association with her was almost too much for him.

He had to be there when she woke up. Hotch needed to know for sure.

Was she his soul mate?

◊

“You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.” – Sam Keen

∞

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #soul mark au #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch fanfiction #searching my dreams for a lifetime

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franeridart · 5 years

Text

Anon said: Um so hello, I’m just here to say keep up the awesome work, I love your kiribaku art and it’s adorable and I go on binges through your blog (omg I sound so creepy I’m sorry I just love ur art so much) and it makes my day so yeah please keep drawing!

Ahhhhh you don’t sound creepy at all, don’t worry!!!!! Thank you so much for liking my stuff that much!!!!!!! <3<3

Anon said: May ask what kiri///mina would look like in your style? You don't have to draw it if you don't like the ship.

Gosh sorry but I really really don’t ship it!

Anon said: you know how I miss?? your OCs!!! they're the cutest!!

AWE thank you so much!!!!!!! I have a few comics planned for them, hope I’ll manage getting to them soon enough!!! (oT^T)9<3

Anon said: This is so sappy but some of your kiribaku posts really make me really appreciate long relationships! I’ve always found pining and crushes the cutest bc it’s full of intense feelings, but you portray being in love and accepting each other so well!! it’s amazing how you show characters interacting with each other and being so comfortable instead of worrying about hiding part of themselves and long story short I love your art and ideas so much

This ask!!!!!!!!! means the universe!!!!!!!!!! to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so glad I can manage portraying love in such a way, I’m so in love with the idea of open, accepting love, andI try seriously hard to make it look healthy in my comics so!!!!!!! thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have no clue how many times I’ve reread this ask I’m not even exaggerating TT^TT <3

Anon said: I just want to start off by saying you’re my favourite blog on tumblr, your art is incredibly adorable and always makes my day!! I was just wondering how you were able to create your own unique art style? It’s something I’ve been struggling with a lot lately with my own art. Any advice is appreciated, thanks for everything you do!!

I think it’s about finding the right spot between what feels comfortable for you and the end you’re using your art for? In my case what’s comfortable is something fun and smooth, and the main end has always been to be able to draw comics - I’ve always liked comics because I like writing and I like drawing, but my attention span was too short to manage finishing them, and the way I had of drawing was too stiff to properly convey emotions the way I wanted to, which made drawing comics sound like an impossible dream haha I fixed it by simplifying my style, by taking away or reducing to the bare minimum everything that took me ages to work out/draw and pushing my expressions and body language to extremes to make up for the lack of details.

That’s just my experience with it, though! The best advice I can give you is to sit back and look at your current way of drawing from an objective perspective - do you enjoy it? Is the process of drawing something you’re comfortable with? What’s uncomfortable in it for you, and in which ways could you change it to make it comfortable and fun? Does your current art style allow you to do what you want to do with your art? If you want to paint, does it allow you to paint in an easy and fun way? If you want to make comics, does it allow you the range to properly portray a character moving and living without making you wish you’d never started drawing halfway through it?

Imho the first step to find a style that’s your own and feels right is to find a style that’s fun to use and doesn’t stress you to hell and back every time you pick up your pencil. This is easier to do the more things you attempt, so for a bit being inconsistent in style is a good and normal thing - try things out! The best one for you will definitely stick in the end. And if you already feel comfortable with the way you have of drawing, then hell! You already have a style that works for you! Just because to you it doesn’t look unique and special it doesn’t mean that it isn’t - if you asked me to point out what makes my style unique I wouldn’t be able to tell you either, the way I see it my style is the most uninteresting and common-looking style out there. To be honest with you that’s probably just how it is for every artist out there hahaha

Anon said: Hi!! I love your art and just want you to know I always get a big, stupid smile on my face whenever I see you cross my feed, whether it’s something new or a reblog of an old post. Everything you do is just amazing and I love it

AHHHHHHH Thank you so so much!!!!!!!!! (TT^TT)<3<3<3

Anon said: Hey Fran! First off, thank you for the Fire Force art. I remembered to actually check it out, after seeing it lol. Second, I still can't find your Fatgum 😭😭 the link didn't give any, and searching on your page didn't help either. I WILL FIND IT ONE DAY

I think it’s a problem of the app orz I can see him just find from desktop but the app can’t find him either T-T stupid app!

Anon said: Do you have a mini Bakugou and Kirishima living in your head? Are they just living their lives up in your brain and that causes your hand to to write and draw the most perfect and accurate things? Of course mini Kaminari, Sero, Mina, Jirou, etc. also come to visit your head hole from time to time and just chill with mini Baku and Kiri. That’s the only logical explanation on how all your Bakushima content is so inconceivably spot on

That’s such a kind thing of you to say, anon!!!!!! I’m glad you find them that IC!!!!!! I try my best, but sometimes I admit I just have them do and say stuff I’ve done and said myself, the only difference is that I word things in a way that feels right for their usual way of talking hahaha

Anon said: I personally would love to read your essay on why bakugo is the best character ever because I really really really want to love him that much but i feel like there's something that I'm just not getting about him- there's something I'm missing about his personality (keeping in mind that i kinda left the manga after the whole mirio/8 precepts arc). I've always found bakugo compelling and would love love love to read your take on him! Hope you have a great day!

Bakugou has had some amazing character development scenes after the overhaul arc!!!!! He’s outright shown he understands where he was lacking and where he was wrong, that he’s perfectly capable of working in a team and letting people help him and helping them in return, that he cares about his class and how the rest of the world sees them! (and that he worries/cares about how the world sees him too, actually, that broke my heart a bit ;; ) We haven’t seen him in a hot minute by now, but most of anything before the current arc has had him improve and develop and become even better than he already was - I’ve always thought him a good guy with just a lot of troubles relating to the world around him due the way he has been brought up as special and different (it creates a drift between yourself and the rest of the world when everyone around you keeps treating you as if you were other - when you tell a kid he’s different and better for his whole life he’s bound to grow up believing it, after all), but if the problem you have with him is that he isn’t showing the good in himself plainly and obviously enough, then the arcs after the overhaul one are gonna help you like him better, definitely

Well, the thing about Bakugou is that he’s not a plain/obvious character, so you need to think about his actions and his words a bit more, and can’t just take him at face value - it’s what I like about him, actually! How much you need to think about him to figure him out on a deeper level than just the surface one. Since I dunno why you like him and why you feel something’s missing, I can’t tell you specifically what it is in the way I see him that completes him for me, but as I said I try to keep him as IC as I can so probably reading my comics about him might help you understand the way I see him. To me Bakugou’s honest, and kind, and loving, but he’s also arrogant, and angry, and used to taking some things for granted, and I like how all those things work with and against each other in his character. He’s at the same time incredibly proud and absurdly insecure, and I like that about him too - where each comes from and where and how they clash, I like the complexity it gives him. I like that he’s a people person in the sense that he likes having people around himself, and I like that at the same time UA is the first time he’s had actual, honest to god best friends, and how that means that he’s gonna be awkward when usually he’s so sure and proud simply because he isn’t used to having people he actually specifically cares for, I very much like that about him. I like that he overthinks everything he doesn’t immediately gets, I like that he still acts on instincts more often than not, I like that somehow with him those two aren’t mutually exclusive. I like that he’s smart and still so damn dumb, I like that he’s just as simple-minded as he is an actually labyrinth in thought process, I like how one-track minded he is even on the most silly things - how once he sets his eyes on a goal he goes for it like his life depends on it. I like that he’s barsh and rude and impulsive in what he says and does, but when he fucks up he knows he fucked up, and he backstracks, and he does his best to make amends. I like that he sits in stupid ways and has the worst posture in the class and then he wears his hero costume and suddenly he’s a model on the catwalk, that’s so damn endearing to me. I like how ridiculously hyperbolic he is and how he just assumes people will get it, get what he actually means, like there’s a point between his brain and his mouth were things get blown out of proportion and he doesn’t even realize it. There’s just so many things to love about him, for me!!

But most importantly I like that he started as low as he could get and that because of it his plot is a one way towards the summit. I like it. I like watching a character grow and every new chapter become a better version of themselves, I love it. Ultimately that’s probably why he’s my favorite, after all haha

Anon said: Hi, this isn’t a question but I just wanted to say how much I love your art and the way you clearly appreciate Bakugou as a character. So many of my friends hate him, but I think he has a lot of depth and so much potential. Your art always makes me smile! Thanks for doing what you do. :)

THANK YOU and thank you for liking the boy too!!!!!!! He deserves it, he absolutely does deserve it!!!!!!! <3<3<3

Anon said: I just went digging in the archives of my blog (which is.. a mess) and found some old art of yours (like... I'm talking bokuto and kuroo level old) and g o s h. I already loved your art so much then and I still do n hhhhhhhh u go. U great.

Gosh you’ve been around a long time then!!!!! Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time!!!! ✨o(TT0TT)o✨

#fran answers #long post #sorry for disappearing on all of you btw!!#some of you might know already but i've spent most of the last week consuming stuff more than producing it haha #sometimes i need that too

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diveronarpg · 4 years

Photo

Congratulations, BRIDGET! You’ve been accepted for the role of POMPEY. Admin Minnie: I had some trouble writing Piero in the beginning; in fact, I rewrote him a few times because I couldn’t find the right words to describe the core of him. But you, Bridget, nailed it exactly in ways that I had not even seen myself. You made him utter real — sometimes uncomfortably so, all of that feeling and pride, As I was reading your application, I immediately felt like he was already yours. I really tried to pick out my favorite line in your application, the detail that really drove it home for me — but the truth is, Bridget, you won me over so thoroughly that I love it all. I cannot wait to see you on our dash again, Bridget, and I’m so happy you’re back! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Bridget

Age | Twenty-two

Preferred Pronouns | She/they

Activity Level | I’m either gonna be on every three minutes or three days apart, there is no in between, but I promise to keep my activity constant and in line with your standards and let it be known if I am having any struggles with meeting them.

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp? | Hazel

IN CHARACTER

Character | Pompey ; Piero Montrelle Ruiz

Piero ; italian: rock

Montrelle ; italian: mountain

Ruiz ; spanish: famous ruler

What drew you to this character? |

Listen, I made a meme when I was apping Hazel, Imma show y’all right now:

It’s a dumb meme and I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but share it.

I honestly play characters like Piero more than I play nicer, more morally-sound characters like Hazel, but I wanted to try something new, so ultimately I decided to pursue Hazel at the time. That said, as much as I love Hazel and would love to write her again, I kept thinking about Piero and his youth and ambition, and so now here we are, me obsessed and wanting to write him.

Okay, rambling ? Done. Let’s do this.

Something about Piero just screamed to me boy king, and that’s just my style. It was in the way he put himself above other children, his pride and his ego. He was born to be something and, in his youth, before he knew of his parents’ empire, before they told him who he was meant to be, he was searching for it. He couldn’t find in it eager kiddy games, he couldn’t find it in chit chat or childhood experiences. But there was something that rushed through him when he saw them stumble, he found satisfaction in figuring things out ages before them. It was in feeling better than them, feeling stronger and superior, and — simply, just being better. He had no time for laughter, for foolishness. What was the point of that, if not to waste time ? ( He was a mean boy, but his parents never pushed him not to be. If he caused another to bleed, it was their fault for not defending themselves. If his whispers of cruel words caused them to weep, they needed to strengthen their mental fortitude. No fault was to be found in Piero ).

I also want to pinpoint there’s something about Piero that also reads naivety to me. He considers himself wise and intelligent, and to some point I do agree ( books and tutors can teach, and they do ) but there are other notions that bring out his youth. It’s in his eavesdropping on his parents — yes, he was young when it happened, but still someone wiser would have understood that some secrets are such for a reason. Instead, he lusted for the unknown, something bigger than himself ( this — as well, is something I’d like to focus on, but I’ll come back to this later. ) and he found himself frenzied until he was finally privy to the family secrets. I see him as being inexperienced, someone who doesn’t have quite the worldliness as someone twice his age or even someone who had to struggle for basic needs during their childhood.

( Also, there is the fact his parents groomed him as being special. He never earned the title, instead it was bequeathed unto him from the very start. His parents claimed he walked younger than most, talked younger than most. He excelled in classes, he excelled in his physical ability. Again and again, his parents claimed him remarkable. I think, amongst the Veronesi, it might be time for him to realize that maybe he isn’t more than his name. This probably should go under plotting but I’m imagining him seeing others with skills he was never taught, maybe those his mother would have considered barbaric and uncouth. Piero wouldn’t see that, though. He would see force and deadly talent and he would see the areas in which he holds deficits. Also, just the ability and skill that comes with time and practice beyond natural talent. I keep reminding myself that, although a little bit weary with a lot of trauma, Piero is still nineteen. I used to think that was so old and so mature, but he’s barely more than a kid. Fun Science Fact: brains aren’t developed fully until their mid-20s !!! Some studies suggest early 30s !!!! Piero hasn’t even reached 20s !!!! He’s still baby !!!!! He’s going to make mistakes and learn and he might be reluctant and angry to do ( please see trauma re: parent death and assassination attempts ) so but he’s gonna do it to better himself which is what he wants to do !!! )

Piero learned so much from his parents, from tutors and teachers alike, but there is something more about experiencing things for himself and not just from the words of others and that’s where his youth shows. The first time he fought, really fought, not for practice or for fun ( something about him just coded him as a bully in my mind, one who’d pick a fight with someone who, one, would fight back, and, two, someone he would definitely beat, but I digress ), in my mind, was when Tiberius came to kill him. There was a fight or flight reaction and he was proud and cocky and pumped up on adrenaline because — this — this was what it was all for. He fought with a flurry of fists, frenzied, wild. In that moment, he knew this for certain: Ruizes were powerful and forceful and they would not flee. If he died right then, so be it, but he wouldn’t have looked death in the face and accepted it.

Okay, so this has turned into a rambling character analysis, and I apologize because I said I was done rambling, and clearly not. That said, I don’t regret it. I just have so much passion and fervor for Piero and I could write a ton more. I might. Later. We’ll see.

I just can’t help but be captured by how striking he is. He’s new to Verona, new to this scene of criminal seediness because this is when he’s finally beginning to get his hands dirty, beyond the basics of opening his eyes. His parents were introducing him to this life, but they didn’t let him delve too deep. They were bringing him in slowly, and then they died. He had nothing right then, nothing but his name and its weight. That wasn’t enough, but his brutality was. When death came for him, it made a mark on Tiberius for him — maybe all of the Capulets, too — and now he’s determined to leave a stain on all of Verona, perhaps Spain and the rest of the world, too.

I originally saw him as something of a blank slate when it came to his being in Verona, but after thinking it through a tad more, he isn’t. His parents wrote his future for him with the very incident of his birth, and now he is filling in the blanks that have been left for him after their deaths. Verona — the Capulets — they are a step in his path to power. Here, he could find allies — he already has enemies — and he learned at a young age the value others could be in company. Over time, maybe they will see that he is someone with a bright future, someone who should be watched carefully because blink and you’ll miss his grab for something better.

He should not be overlooked and that is something I think people might do. Sure, his family had a reputation, one that might cause some pause, but they might think he isn’t them. He is young and inexperienced, but there’s a chip on his shoulder and in his mouth is a taste for blood. He won’t go down quietly or without a fight. He is watching and waiting for chance and opportunity. He’ll prove any doubter wrong, he’s sure of it with all the self-confidence and egotism a princeling could have.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1. Emotional Motion Sickness: Something that struck me about Piero is how he once wore his emotions on his sleeve. He fought for his life, fueled by loss and grief. He has a practiced void in his eyes and locked tears away. In my mind, this is not him, it is not in his nature. He was the sort to be fueled by idle amusements, wanting satisfaction, his eagerness knowing no bounds. He feels, and he feels immensely. It could be said it’s what he does best. But now? He is quiet, showing little. It’s vacant and a little numbing, and the void in his eyes is cold and distant. What his cards are and what he intends to play are known to him and him only. I can’t help but think that maybe, one day, he is going to break, the facade dropping, eyes blazing. Anyone caught in the crossfire surely would regret their taunts and jeers.

1. I just have this vision of him snapping. It would take a lot — honestly, a lot — because he’s created this solid version of himself, almost patient, somewhat mostly obedient ( I do imagine he chafes under rules a little — more than a little bit actually, but he bites it back time and time again ) but unfeeling. Jibs and jabs don’t get to him. They seemingly roll off of his back. I have to say that isn’t the case. He’s proud and he can only take so many insults. If — actually, when — he breaks, it’s going to have been a long time coming. The facade will start to break, cracks showing in the twitch of his fingers, the tension in his jaw. Maybe it will earn him respect from those around him when he snaps and demands more for him — he’s more than just the last of the Ruizes, living off of the faded glory of their name, and he’ll be damned if he’s not allowed to show it — but maybe it will only be a reminder that he was a loose end, and he was meant to be dead to begin with.

2. Who Am I? You Decide: He comes to Verona and what’s most obvious is that he has offered himself wholly to the Capulets. It’s not what his parents did — they were owed power for their allyship while Piero is now owed nothing. At the beginning, he is dutiful and obedient. He’s got nothing to lose but he has everything to gain here. He has to prove himself, really it’s his main goal. To do this, he finally understands words his parents told him so many years ago. Detener la marea y esperarar al momento adecuado: Hold back the tide and wait for the right time. He’s trying to listen and be quiet and wait and watch, but he’s never known patience well. He acted and reacted in his youth — power and privilege granted that ability — and this restraint is taking a lot of effort.

1. The facade crumbles and falls slowly, piece by piece. It starts with remarks and quips that are a touch too dry and that have too jagged an edge to people who don’t matter. It then escalates. He tries to manipulate situations where he sees a chance to take hold. He bites when he should be muzzled ; he acts of his own accord. I have no doubt that his own desires and whims to take action will get him in trouble. He is a wicked boy and always has been, soul stained black by birthright and only darkened with time. He found thrill in other people getting hurt, whether by his hand or not. He found glee in twisting his words to twist knives in others’ hearts. Maybe he learned it from watching his parents — they were by no means good people — but maybe it was part nurture, part nature. It was fate to be bad, or at the very least unkind.

2. His true nature shows in these ways: he speaks when he shouldn’t, he becomes too comfortable around Tiberius, a man who is like a friend and a brother, but ultimately was the man who was meant to kill him. It shows in his interactions with Vivianne, charm oozing, frenetic words of grandeur and idyllic plans slipping from his lips in eager commentaries about Verona and Spain and the whole world further. He speaks to them as if they are not his betters — as if he is more than even an equal — and soon it is not only them. It will become everyone.

3. Throwing Rocks Around Your Room: Everything in his life has been destroyed or taken from him in irreparable ways. This new life, this new existence, a part of him wonders how long it will last ( there is, of course, a certainty that this has to last. It’s this life in the mobs, or death. No middle, no escape. All or nothing. Black or white ). He seems so neutral, so unmoveable, but his head is a wrecking ball. He thinks of ways to destroy not only himself but all those around him. A part of him thinks the Capulets are to blame for the ruination of his family and their name — exceedingly childish, for sure — but he wonders what it would be like to see them crumble, perhaps making a martyr of himself in the process. The one flaw to this is that he does not want to die. For what use was him surviving this long if it comes not to a head ? He needs to make a mark. He needs to be known not just by a few Capulets and other Veronesi — but by everyone. He wants parents to shiver when their babes utter his name. He wants his name in history books, imprinted on pages that will survive longer than their maker.

1. Destruction has followed Piero. At first, it was only others, starting with children who crossed him, and then it turned to the enemies of his family. He did well when it was his hand casting the stone. And then, it turned on him. His family’s empire turned from masterpiece to rubble. Another turn took and his family was whittled down to one. The idea of erupting and destroying who he thinks hurt him ? Somewhat appealing. But he can’t do it. He wants more. He’s hungry to become bigger than he is. I want him to find a way to do it ( and while he’d consider acting Brutus within the Capulets, his own pride and ambition would be champ at the bit, rendering him unable ) or at least consider his options. He’s restless as part of the Capulets. He feels like they are keeping him down, not letting him be enough.

4. I Don’t Have a Fancy Title for This One I’m Sorry: When it comes to Tiberius, Piero wants to impress him, to prove him right, that sparing him was the right choice. But at the same time, bitterness remains and finds itself seeping into his blood, the feeling intensifying, every time Piero finds himself being held back by the scruff. With his … befriending ( that isn’t the right word, and it doesn’t convey what I want to say ? Admiring ? Infatuation — not romantically, of course ) of Vivianne, he wonders if impressing her over Tiberius is the way to go. He considers ignoring Tiberius, going off on his own and making his own choices. Maybe that’s what he needs to do to shake off the status of initiate, to become a soldier.

1. tl;dr: Eventually, if Tiberius doesn’t let Piero have a little more responsibility and things to do, he’ll find someone else who will grant him that.

Current State of Being

→ Piero is trying to stay in line, keep quiet, and do what’s asked of him. But he’s antsy and he’s simmering. There’s so much he has to say ; he’s so not used to being at the bottom of the pecking order. It’s not going to last. He’s got a lot to say, he wants to do things. Sooner or later, he’s going to stop waiting for permission ( and, in turn, he’ll beg for forgiveness if need-be )

Character Goals

→ Have Piero use his voice. He stops listening to the jeers and taunts of everyone who thinks they know all there is to know about them, and he tells them off. He’s no longer silent and maybe people will look at him in a different light. Or maybe he gets in trouble. Either way would further. I’m leaning towards having him react and get angry, raising his voice in a way he shouldn’t.

→ His true nature shows. Wicked is as wicked does. He gets comfortable in Verona. He acts on instinct, he lashes out. Maybe someone gets hurt — maybe it’s him, maybe not. He starts to abuse his ability to talk to people, twisting words and twisting hearts and feelings. Manipulation is in his blood. He acts out, he steps out of line and does something for people to see him as more than just a little initiate in the Capulet’s gang.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? |

Don’t kill baby jk do it i dare you

IN DEPTH

( i’m replying to some of the questions & i did a para sample )

What is your favorite place in Verona?

He gets lost more often than he’d like. He wanders down streets he’s never gone down and through alleys with unknown endings. A part of him would be delighted if it wasn’t overtaken by the idea that he needed to know these streets better than he did. There was no time to be idle, no time to do anything with purpose. Most of the Capulets, surely the Montagues, knew this city like the back of their hands.

He wanted to know it better than they did, better than those naturally Verona-born. It was more than a want, it was a need that burned within him.

Still, the streets were beautiful.

It was different than home, than Spain. There, his family had resided just outside one of its largest city. From his room, he could hear the sounds of cars whizzing by on nearby highways. If he didn’t close the curtains, he would be bombarded with the lights of the city, no stars to be seen.

Here, despite its age and all of its magnitudes, Verona seemed infinitely smaller to him. He was refusing to allow himself to like it, to find a home.

It’s a long time before he finally answers the question, and his response can hardly be considered an answer. He only gives a shrug of his shoulders, absent, vague, and his gaze turns towards the window. His eyes are dead and shark-like as people pass by.

That’s not an answer, Piero.

He sighs, a loud and exasperated sound. There’s another pause on his part, this one longer and emphasized by his ability to not look at the asker once. This person — the soldato — means nothing to him. He’s sure they’ve already passed their prime. They’re as likely to ascend further as he is to fall flat — which is to say unlikely. And because of this, he cares little for them. He waits to say something poised and clever until perfect ears are listening.

Finally, there comes an answer, the barest bones of respect he’ll give, one with a little more substance to it. That doesn’t mean his voice has an affect that is more than flat. It doesn’t mean he seems to care. “ There’s a little flower shop that I can see from the window of my flat. I’ve never — “ his nose wrinkles at the thought “ — I’ve never bought anything from it, but it reminds me of when I was living another life. ”

It reminds him of the day his parents died and he was left standing alone to face their destruction, his shoes sticking to the hardwood floors as blood dried on their soles.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“ Ambition is my folly. ”

It’s said lightly, airily, as if it doesn’t matter. Look closer, see how the muscle clenches in his cheek, how there’s a sparkle momentarily flashing in his eyes before it fades to dullness. He wants to do something that has weight ( — like the heft of a gun in his hand, the feeling of his body atop another’s as his fists bear down ) and yet he is relegated to simple tasks only. He feels like a page, or perhaps worse, a pawn, unimportant and oh-so-easily replaceable.

Maybe his mistake has been living.

It shouldn’t seem like that.

But he hates being an underling. He hates being told what to do and when to do it. His life is now dictated by another, not even a Ruiz. When it was his parents instructing him, it felt different, less like someone was making all of his choices for him and more like — more like he mattered ? There is no need to convince himself that he did matter to his parents — he was next in line, preened and primed, being readied to take the throne his family had been sitting on for generations — because he knows it’s true. Here ? One wrong move can cost everything.

Perhaps he should have allowed himself to have been martyred, killed in cold blood despite fighting to prevent it. He would have been the last of the Ruizes ; they’d have been remembered for not going down easily. Now ? He thinks a wrong glance cast could mean his throat will be slit.

You don’t seem so ambitious to me.

He supposes most won't have seen it. Tiberius knows — Tiberius has heard him ask over and over for something to do, something bigger and better, with meaning, and so has Vivianne, he would be remiss to forget her — but everyone else ? He doesn’t suppose it’s important enough information for his sponsor to pass along that he wants to do more, so he rationalizes that most think he’s just a good little soldier-to-be, keeping his head down and toes in line. It’s not time for people to fear him, not just yet. That time will come.

“ Then maybe my biggest mistake was that lie. ”

Para Sample

He has been being followed for sometime now. It is always a shadow in the periphery of his vision, disappearing when he turns to see, a jacket billowing behind someone who had just walked out of frame. Piero wonders if this should make him nervous. He’s considered it, the idea that someone must want him dead to end the Ruiz family once and for all. They came for his parents, now it’s his turn. It’s a horrifying thought at first light, but there is something dangerously satisfying to him within it, at the idea of someone considering him that necessary to end. Perhaps it’s dark and twisted, but not all boys born to wear a crown come out golden.

Nearly a week passes, and by now he’s on edge. Every knock on the door of the shitty motel he’s staying in, every blow of wind against the glass windows, sets him on edge. There are purple circles under his eyes, dark as can be. He hasn’t been sleeping well. He tosses and turns, his deepest worries allowed to fester and grow in unguarded dreams, until he wakes unrested. He can’t go on like this much longer. He’s wondered if it’s worth it to flee Spain, to call on distant relatives, begging on bent knees for salvation and charity. His own pride sets him straight. Cowardice is not an option. Ruiz blood has reigned over Spain for generations. He will not be the one to bring that to an end, bringing shame to his name and the memory of his parents.

It’s just past three in the morning when he hears the turn of the doorknob. He sits up straight in the rickety armchair in the corner, his eyes adjusting to the darkened room, and he stares and he waits. He considers running. There’s a window in the bathroom, already open. He’s slender enough to squeeze through it if he really wants to, he’s given thought to it already — the doorknob rattles again, a thump echoes through the room as something hits the wood of the door — but he thinks to himself he doesn’t have the time. If he tries it, he’ll be caught halfway out. He cannot flee if it will lead inevitably to his demise. It’s embarrassing and shameful and wouldn’t do. Even in the face of death, Piero is as proud as ever.

The moments before the door cracks open, broken by the weight of another’s body, seem to last forever. He thinks of himself. He thinks of all the things he has yet to do. He thinks about his parents, their dreams and expectations for him. This becomes painfully clear: he cannot die without a fight. This is his moment. No matter the outcome, someone will remember the Ruizes. They were once noble and strong, but they didn’t allow their fire to go out so easily. It’s all he can do.

The door breaks, and he’s on his feet finally. The room is still dark but he can see motion in the darkness. He will let his attacker come to him. To tire himself out, to make all motion, seems like it’d be a mistake. Though he’s expecting it, the first hit knocks all of the air out of his lungs. Another hit lands, then another. Finally, something snaps within him. Elbows in, chin down. That’s what his mother taught him. He’s wild and frenzied, suddenly hits aren’t met with pause, and he begins throwing blow after blow, some hitting, some not. He’s all in. There is no hesitation, not anymore. It’s become apparent, right then, after this week of waiting, that perhaps another motivation is a fear of death.

It’s not an unreasonable thing. He is barely nineteen, hardly an adult, barely lived. He thinks there is so much more for him to do, to see and to experience. In his head, his mantra becomes I will not die today. Over and over, he says it to himself, despite blows hitting his body, his own strikes meeting their targets, muscles pounding against flesh.

Thoughts continue to rush through his mind. Why is he fighting ? For his parents. Why does he need to ? They’re dead. There are tears welled up in his eyes, out of pain and anger and grief. They shouldn’t be dead. They should be here. He shouldn’t be fighting. A choke sob escapes through swelling lips, but he doesn’t let himself falter. This is life or death, and he is doing everything he can to choose life.

His mouth tastes of iron and salt, but it isn’t from his own body. A fist met his lips, teeth scraped against gentle flesh, and Piero had drawn first blood. Though there were bruises forming on his own body already, though his muscles ache and scream, there is something satisfying about that. All he can do is manage to stay standing, quick on his feet, landing in jabs where he can.

The sounds in the room are heavy breathing and the noise of flesh hitting flesh. He wonders if the neighbors have been disturbed. He wonders if they care.

He isn’t sure how long has passed. He isn’t sure how much longer he can last. This fight, this rush of adrenaline coursing through him, it’s all new. Before this, it had always been fights that ended when someone hit the ground or time was up. Never had stakes been so high. A part of him is screaming for it to stop ; another wonders why this is only the first time. There’s something fulfilling in it, and maybe that’s monstrous, but Piero thinks that maybe he was born to be brutal and bloodthirsty. For so long, he had been charming and a pseudo-intellectual, clever and cunning. There had been merit to that, yes, but this ? Every fist that connects with skin sends a rush through him, a thrill like never before.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed when the man takes a step back from him, a thrown swing causing him to fall off balance. For a second, his heart leaps to his throat and he thinks this is it. But the man doesn’t take the misstep as an opportunity. Instead, he’s looking at him, interest crossing his features. Piero doesn’t let his fists fall to his side, he doesn’t know why the man has stopped, and he is too in the moment to care. He takes the chance the man doesn’t and swings, his fist meeting the man’s jaw. It lands with a satisfying thwack, but again the man doesn’t retaliate.

“ That’s enough. ”

Piero can’t help but flinch under the tone of resolve and authority, but when he looks up again, the man is still staring at him. No, he is studying. Piero can’t fathom what he can be looking for or why their fight has stopped. His body is screaming, surely if he wakes tomorrow the pain will have increased tenfold, and his most basic reaction is still fight, fight, fight.

He’s winding up his fist again but again the man speaks. “ I said, enough. ”

Piero knows when words spoken are no longer suggestions — when instead they become commands. His fists fall, his shoulders do, too. His expression turns petulant, childlike in its quick and open displeasure.

He is silent, waiting — for what ? He wonders briefly. It could be death and damnation that awaits him. A part of him, however, thinks differently. He has never been idyllic, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses with glee and a grin, but something inside him is waiting not for death’s hand to grip him.

Instead, he waits. Blood is rushing through his ears still, his pulse is throbbing. Finally, finally —

“ Sit down, boy. Let’s talk. ”

Extras:

FAST FACTS

( i looked up spanish naming customs for this and i might have gotten it right but i might not have i need to do more reading to be 100% sure but i still wanted to include it )

→ Full Name: Piero Ruiz Lorca

→ Mother: Marcella Blanca Lorca de Ruiz

→ Father: Piero Ruiz Zapatero

→ Siblings: None

→ Birthday: July 12th ; this makes him a Cancer

→ Hometown: Cordoba, Spain

→ Dominant Character Traits: harsh, ambitious, bloodthirsty, rash, driven,

HEADCANONS

001. For generations now, men wore the name Piero, his grandfather the third, Piero the fifth. There were expectations to meet, legacies to exceed. Live up to your namesake. Piero’s father was speaking of his own father at the time and, while this weight of that bore heavily down, the young boy could only think of becoming instead like his father. His grandfather died before memories of him solidified in a young child’s head, and so he only knew of him through tales and rumors. For his father, though, he watched as all stood when he walked into a room, his presence commanding respect, his reputation demanding it. While his hands were stained bloodied red, he was a beacon of light that people looked to, he captured attention easily. Once he understood, Piero craved that same state of existence. The children he grew up around, he had their attention, but in a different way. They whispered about him when his back was turned, they ducked their heads and left the room once he entered. It was a shame, really, but he was sure he would grow into his father’s shoes, filling the role the elder Ruiz did easily. For some time, he believed he was doing exactly that. And then, his parents were slaughtered, and the role he had to fill was that of a ghost. Now that he is human once more, as part of the Capulets and their crew, he feels like he once did as a child, unliked and not very seen. It’s digging at him, shoving splinters under already broken nails, causing him to grit his teeth and try a thousand times harder to earn a little bit of the damned respect he so desperately craves. It’s one of the few things that his father told him to do, this living up to his namesake. His father might be dead, rotting in the ground, with most of his words forgotten to time and space, but his spectral voice lives on in Piero’s head.

002. I have this image of Piero, maybe no older than fifteen, sixteen, at a table surrounded by compatriots of his parents. An older man, in his fifties, or perhaps, his sixties, is chewing tobacco. It’s disgusting. His gums are coated in black spit and when he smiles there are specks on his teeth. Piero cannot hide his disdain. But he’s chewing something, too. With all of his egotism, his thoughts that he is better than those before, he’s found a better option. Mint. It’s fresh and better and — the adults around him, most find him insufferable. For good reason. Anyway, it’s stupid and dumb, but god, I imagine it’s a habit he hasn’t broken. It also means mojitos are his favorite cocktail. No, I won’t elaborate on this or give any good reason for it besides please, I want it, and it’s just youthful arrogance, you know ? Before Verona, before his parents died, I feel like he had just come into himself — he felt sure and he was certain that life was grand. Era una vida tan buena. He was cocky and a little … I don’t know. Smarmy ? That’s not quite the word I want, but god, Piero was living each day as it came. Nothing could faze him. He lived under the shield of his parents and their name, of his own youth. There was privilege in that. He had seen the taste of power and luxe that his parents’ world — the one he was set to inherit once he was of age — and it delighted him. He revelled in it. He wouldn’t have to unlearn his innate cruelties, his hubris. He was a prince set to ascend, his crown was never askew.

003. As a child, he was raised not only to be smart, wisened by words of the experiences and the words in books, but to be cultured as well. His mother took him to parties with him on her arm, where his smiles never quite reached his eyes under the coos and remarks of her friends. He talked when spoken to, he never raised his voice. He could be charming when he needed to be, grins and chubby-cheeked, with words uttered that they desperately wanted to hear. He never enjoyed them, especially not when his parents would slip away into back rooms to have their own meetings. He would wait resting under the doorknob, eyes desperately seeking for some revelation under the door’s crack, ears yearning for words through the keyhole. The door would open at midnight, if not later, and he would fall into the room because of how he’d been leaning against the door. On the rainiest of days with no other plans, they would find themselves lost in museums all over the continent ( they had money, and while they didn’t quite flaunt it, they didn’t have qualms about traveling ). Beautiful things never caught his eye. They were nice, sure; but they were idle and dull and fleeting in his mind. Were his mother not guiding him ( in another life, one without bloodlust and bloodshed, she would have been a curator — a stunning one, establishing beautiful collections that many would travel to. alas, this is not our story ), he would have been lost in statues of gore, in paintings of wars and hatred. There was something about them that caught his attention and never let go. Is there beauty in being brutal ? Piero would say so.

004. The Ruiz home was decorated with exorbitant quantities of flowers while Piero lived there with his parents — why wouldn’t it be that way ? Their front for their operations was a massive floral establishment, it was only fitting for their home to be decorated accordingly. As a child, he loved their scent filling the halls and rooms — roses and lilies and all sorts of magnificent blooms. They were pretty and they weren’t long-lasting, but they were always something that represented his family, and he would be remiss to say a part of him wasn’t fond of them. However, from the day his parents died, all he can remember besides their shouts in frantic Spanish is the scent of blood and flowers. Now, any breath of anything floral makes him gag. It’s unfortunate.

005. The first time he held a gun — the first time he did so with meaning, it loaded, intended to be used against another — he was fourteen. He followed behind his mother, into a meeting with a man who owed the Capulets money. She knew he was unlikely to run or cause a fuss ( he had pride and character, his mother told him, and though he had wronged them, only a coward would have fled or refused his fate ) and thought it perfect for Piero’s first attendance. He stood behind his mother, just beside her shoulder, and listened as she talked. He stood on the balls of his feet, eager and ready for his chance to do something — anything. It never came, much to his disappointment. His mother said everything she needed to. She demanded payment. The man refused, citing he couldn’t. His mother nodded, then she fired one shot into the middle of his head. They left quickly after that, someone would be coming to clean up the mess, and the weight of Piero’s gun felt heavy in his hands having gone unfired.

006. He has nightmares. Nobody knows — he refuses to tell anyone for fear of it being seen as weakness or a vulnerability — but surviving two assassination attempts ? It should come as no surprise that it’s affected his psyche. But there are nights, more often than he’d like, that he wakes up, thrashing, sweat-coated legs and arms tangled up in bedsheets, and his heart is beating in frantic panic. It takes a moment for Piero to realize that his life is in no danger ( at least, not at that specific point in time ) and then he lets his head fall back to the pillow. The days after, he finds himself more on edge than normal, dark-circled eyes narrowed and angry.

PINTEREST BOARD

Rambly Bits That Didn’t Fit Anywhere Nicely But Still Provide Notion Of Character And I Didn’t Want To Delete Permanently For Fear Of Regretting That Decision Later

2. His parents were not good people. They never had hope of cleaning the blood off of their hands and fingers, but they never had desire to burn them clean. At his birth, he was blessed by aunts and uncles in hopes he’d have a fraction of his parents’ abilities — their cruelty, their decisiveness, their skill with gun and blade. He grew up in a home that never knew weak submission ; it was eat or be eaten, and he learned that quickly. He watched friends of his parents cry for mercy after failures — ones he didn’t understand in the moment, not until years later, when he crept downstairs in the midnight hours to watch their meetings through stair railings — and he watched as they were met with slaps to cheeks and sometimes worse. He was too young to understand the permanence of death, but he understood that a hole in a man’s temple meant he was never getting up. He saw the cool poise his father wore as he held a smoking gun — he imagined himself, older, in the same position. He echoed the steely edges his parents’ voices took ; he repeated the words they said that meant nothing to him until his cadence and tone matched theirs.

3. His parents praised him while he was in school when teachers and tutors reported that he was harsh in the face of sadness or whining and unable to handle the wrong answers of others. It only worsened ( bettered ? ) as he grew older. His harshness seemed less precocious and began to unsettle others. Tutors and teachers began to dislike being in the same room as him. He wore a smile that said let me do as I please and his temper echoed I mean it. He asked them questions about things they didn’t know, baiting them with their insufficiencies until they had no other option but to quit. His parents would only hire someone new with no question. No one was spared. He asked personal and probing questions until they shifted in their seats. He was like a needle under their skin, sharp and uncomfortable. )

4. Being a part of something bigger than himself. Isn’t that what a king does — or in Piero’s case, a princeling ? They are a large part of their kingdom, surely, and, though they might be its head, it cannot exist without its body. There needs to be support. When he was young, being a god amongst the other children wasn’t enough. He wanted something more. He wanted to be something more. He knew his parents did something that made them special, and their dis-including him ( for whatever reason it could be, he wondered night after night, staring up at the stucco ceiling, sleepless and agonizing ) just wouldn’t work for him. He needed to be involved, he needed to know. His knowing parts of their secrets, the whispers he overhead, was enough to build up his patience until it came to know more.

5. He has his eyes set on the crown his family once wore ; he was born and bred into a vicious line.

6. It’s a game of chess. Where once he was perhaps a knight or a bishop aside his parents’ queenhood, someone who could advise and assist, he feels now hardly more than a pawn. There are others in charge and he acts in their stead to do their bidding. He knows it’s what he must do. He must build his power back up, but gods above, the wait is agonizing. He wants to feel the rush of adrenaline that power brings surge through him again. He wants to make his own choices and decisions.

7. His peers had it worse. Unlike teachers whose authority he undermined, he knew he was better and above his cohort — a king amongst sheep. He ruled conversations even when no word slipped from his mouth. They needed to entertain him or he’d find another way to spend his time. ( A brief interlude: his “ friends ” didn’t like him but were scared of telling him no — also, they were most likely the children of his parents’ friends and associates, so there was need to make good with Piero. ) He’d pit them against each other with lies and rumors he’d overheard or made up. It was interesting to see them scramble, like ants under a magnifying glass. So long as he was amused, where was the harm ?

#accepted #accepted: pompey

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slashingdisneypasta · 5 years

Text

Peter Hayes x Reader || Oneshot

Title: The One and Only

Notes:

This is set after the Allegiant BOOK. So, SPOILER WARNING, Peter has used the memory serum.

I love this boy. And his lack of fanfiction is a PROBLEM.

Plot: For whatever reason, you were in love with Peter, and he was with you. But... now he’s gone. And you have to try and forget. Which is hard to do when he’s still around.

Finally, he wants to remember again.

Warnings: There is SMUT. Its indicated where though, so you can skip it if you like ^^ But there is a bit of plot in the middle. Also, swearing.

~~~

“Hey, Y/N!” Without my permission, my heart does a little jump, but it’s not for the person who said hey to me. Sighing, I take my hands from my laptop and straighten my back, turning to smile at Peter as he comes over to me and takes a seat on the bench right by me. I’m sitting sideways on it so my laptop can be set on it as well, so now I’m facing him without turning and trying to notice how differently he sits down, to how he used to. It’s like he completely started over, which he kind of did. His whole life, “Wiped away by chemistry,”. Including the way he walked, talked, and everyone who loved him. Well, person.

Me.

Which was a total dick move on his part, which was the last completely in-character thing that he did.

But, I can’t be mad at this boy in front of me, even if he looks miraculously similar to the dick in question. From his shiny hair to the tips of his greedy fingers. “Hi, Peter, what’s up?”

“Just finished another recall lesson. Still nothing,” He shrugs, uncaring. I already told him that this is what he wanted by taking the serum, to forget everything. So, he doesn’t really try in these lessons that he’s forced to attend, by government law. He believed me right away, weirdly. And has been acting so aloof about it since like somehow, he understands, which of course he can’t. Because he doesn’t know anything about himself or what he did to cause his old self to want to erase his memory! The whole thing, his whole response to this life changing event is aloof, and its infuriating. It’s the main thing that hasn’t changed at all about him, along with his appearance and his firm aversion to sprouts. He’s still really, really annoying.

“You know, I’m glad you’re respecting his wishes to not remember, but maybe you should try and remember some things. I mean, the techniques are working for some of the others, right? You said, uh… Katie, remembered something? Her choosing ceremony?” I watch, expression changing from thoughtful to deadpanned as he takes my can of coke and swigs from it like he spent 3 dollars on it. Once he’s done, I snatch it away from him and set him with a glare as I put it down on the other side of the bench, away from him. It causes a mischievous grin to pop onto his face and a laugh, and I try to forget the other times he’s made that face at me before he took the serum. Because that Peter’s dead, and I need to let him go like Four’s letting go of Tris. It’s not fair to this Peter.

In response to what I said, he just shrugs his shoulders again and look away to across the park- where Caleb is taking some photos. We drove here together, him and me. In fact, we’ve been doing a lot together. As two of the only ones from the original group who knows everything that happened, we have a connection. Peter’s next words rip my attention from Caleb though and makes me want to blurt out no, immediately. “Nah, I mean old me wanted this for a reason, right? I mean, I do kinda wanna know why he wanted this, but I figure he was some kind of depressed loser with self-esteem issues. That’s good enough for me, to keep going like this. Don’t wanna be that.”

Words have escaped me. I guess, I figured he thought something like that the whole time, but… hearing it out loud, in such a certain tone, hurts. My heart fights for me to tell him he’s wrong, at the very least, but my brain tells me to let him go on. Don’t interfere. He told you, before he took the serum, to let him go. Still be friends but let go.

He was being unfair, but that’s nothing new is it? The asshole.

I press my lips together after I get over the shock and horror and kiss my teeth. Deciding this has been enough ‘friendship’ for today, I quickly save my work and shut down my laptop, closing it. “Yeah, um, Peter. I gotta go. Caleb! Caleb, are you done? I’m having an Old Peter moment, so we have to go now.”

It’s not exactly a code, but it is what he or I say when we’ve had enough of new Peter or we’re remembering too much and need to get away. We use it for Tris, too. Even though she really isn’t here anymore. Caleb immediately starts putting his camera in its bag and walking over, without a word.

Peter himself looks unruffled by it, having come to accept it easily that I won’t always be able to handle this. He isn’t exactly cold about it… in fact, he’s understanding. Nearly nice. It makes me feel even sicker. “Oh, by all means, go. I’m gonna stick around a while, see you guys later.”

Caleb nods to Peter, reaching us and turning to me. “See you, Peter. Y/N? Are you oka- Oh,”I pick up his wrist and start dragging him to the car. As soon as I’m in the front seat and I’m buckle din, I look back over to the bench Peter’s sitting at, and catch him watching me. Trying not to scowl at him, I turn back to the steering wheel and turn the ignition. “It’s never going to get easier, is it?” Caleb asks from the passenger seat after a while, looking up from his camera on which he was flicking through the pictures he took.

I shake my head, immediately, heart still clenched in annoyance and ageing heartache. I risk a glance at him, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Nope, don’t think so.”

With that, there isn’t else to say, so we just hold hands. Tightly.

~~~

At dinner later in the community dining hall, I sit with Four and listen to him talk about work for a while. It’s a little awkward, and a lot strange seeing as we don’t talk at all, most days. Not since Tris died, but we’ve never acknowledged that and it’s been months. We were never close in the first place, but once you’ve fought a revolution with someone, you become attached. He’s a staple in my life just as much as I am his, and that’s why our relationship is so strange.

Nodding in agreement to something he said about how ridiculous milk prices are at the moment and how frustrating that is as I skewer a piece of broccoli and place it in my mouth. I don’t foresee Four’s and my relationship ever changing, seeing as we’re so different and have very little common and I don’t particular want to be best friends with him -acquaintances with a non-personal past is nice. Comfortable, without any expectations but still the understanding that we’re here for each other. I like it, - so there isn’t much in thinking about how strange it feels, I just thought I would mention it once to myself. “Also, the toilet paper, you seen that??”

He groans, in response, causing a bubbling laugh to travel up my throat from my chest. “It’s killing me.”

“Killing you! I have a lower paying job then you, I’m gonna have to start using the cardboard rolls soon!” He shakes his head, the tiniest grin on his lips as he looks back down at his food. I feel triumphant. “It won’t be good!!”

“Oh, jeez… “

“Hey, we’re gonna have to rig Secret Santa so you can buy me some, okay?” I point my fork at him conspiratorially. “I’ll get you milk.” He chuckles this time, making me smile.

For the rest of dinner, we continue like that. Talking about our shared financial issues and even switching over to Caleb at one point and how he’s sitting so pretty on his high paying job and his stockpiled toilet paper. God damn Brainiac’s…

It’s a good distraction from Peter, a few tables away.

~~~

When I finally get home, after hanging with some other friends after dinner just outside the community centre, goofing around I nearly suffer cardiac arrest as soon as I walk through the door.

Peter is not usually a menacing presence. But when he’s sitting in my dark apartment in the middle of the night and I had no idea he would be there, that fact changes! I don’t let myself scream, though. I hold my breath until the urge disappears.

After a moment, I let out the breath deeply and turn fully to him, dropping my scarf and keys on the hallway table before moving further into my home, past him. “Peter… “I growl, annoyed at him instantly. I don’t catch the mischievous smirk he sends my back, but I do feel it. “What the bleeding hell?!”

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“Oh, you are not.”

“True.” His cheeky tone puts my senses on high alert. Both because a cheeky Peter has always and will always be something to worry about, and because it used to turn me on. Still kinda doe, but that’s not something I’m about to admit to this version of him. We haven’t established that kind of relationship, nor will we ever. Sighing as my heartbeat slows down to its normal speed, I check the battery level on my pheon before putting it on charge. Then, finally, I sit down at the kitchen table across from Peter and settle into figuring out why the hell he’s here. And… also… how he got in??? The door was locked??? “Key was under the mat, Y/N. You should probably find a more secure hiding spot. Or at least more creative, jeez.”

“… okay… “I roll my eyes. He has a point. “So, Peter, uh… why are you here?”

“Well, I… “I watch while he suddenly droops in confidence and draws something on the table with his finger. These moments are really weird for me. Peter was always so confident before, even when he shouldn’t have been. Its cute, but so, so weird. He draws the thing, whatever it is, then looks around the room, making me remember that he’s never been in here before. An attempt made by me to keep him at a distance, which I guess now has been turned to shit. His shy moment ends, and one corner of his mouth perks up in a half smirk. “I like your place, could get used to it here. I wonder… why haven’t you ever brought me here before?”

“To keep you at a distance.” I say, bluntly. Theirs a slight shift behind his eyes at it, making his mouth turn down a bit in a tiny scowl and his green eyes look cold.

“Has Four been here?”

“Uh… yeah.” I don’t know why I should lie, or why he would look so serious about it. Before the serum, this was his murderous face, but I’m assuming it must be something different now. New Peter doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. “He has, but not for long. He just came to help me move in, hasn’t been back since though… why? Uh, you know what, I don’t care. Why are you here?”

His serious face intensifies. “I saw you with him tonight, and it brought back some feelings. So, I have a question.”

Making a confused, and slightly frustrated face, I shrug. “What kinda feelings?”

“Jealously.” Oh, he’s playing blunt too.

That does make me think, though. Whether this is unwanted memories coming back, or just a glimmer, a shadow of the old Peter coming back for a second. Because, yes, this is exactly something that he would feel before the serum. Any time I was with another guy, especially Four due to his particular dislike of the tattooed, ex Dauntless, he would get so jealous. Usually, it ended with that guy receiving some kind of punishment or dirty look, and me getting Peter attached to me for the rest of the day. Now, though, I should just tell him to ignore it.

But… “So, what’s your question?” I can’t pass up the chance he’ll become a little more the Peter I love. Even though I shouldn’t.

He looks dangerously focused into my eyes, which is also very Old Peter-like. “Were we a couple, before?”

Ahhhh, whoops. I don’t know what I thought he was going to ask, but for some reason this didn’t occur to me. If I tell him the truth, he might remember more then he should. Not to mention the fact that it’ll ruin whatever relationship we have now. And if I tell him a lie, he’ll know. “Umm, well… uh, yeah.”

I hold my breath, as soon as the last word escapes my lips. Have I ruined it? Will he remember, and hate me? He’s silent for just a moment, not giving me enough to time to think of a plan if he does remember, before he leans back in his chair, muscles relaxing.

“Well, that’s news.” Well, that’s not the reaction I expected or one I wanted! At least be sensitive to my situation, Peter! He looks away from me and to the side of the room, and I watch. How will he take this? Will he leave? “Thought I felt something. No wonder I wanted to be with you so bad.”

“Hm, and I thought the new you was just annoying.” I get up from the table and head for the door. “Well, you better go, before you remember anything else,”

“Well, I kinda want to now.”

Don’t be serious, don’t be serious, don’t be serious…

“No, you don’t.” You didn’t want to remember before, you’ll hate yourself even more if you miss out on your one chance to change yourself easily. You’re already doing so well! Don’t do this to yourself, please. “Just trust me, telling you that you don’t want that.”

He looks at me again, and his green eyes change again. He gets up from his seat and comes over to me, a little too close. Oh, no. he doesn’t think just because I was with the other him that he’ll get any action, does he? The jerk. I look up at his face, craning my neck since he’s so close, and feel my heart plunge to my feet. He’s made up his mind, he wants to know. I shake my head at him, he smirks. “Come on, Y/N. Haven’t you missed me?”

I groan, and push him away. “Nooo… I mean, yes. But you’re not him. And I won’t take away your chance, to- “He brings me back to him his familiar hands on my hips. It’s like trying a drug that I long gave up… but still feels so good. Stubbornly though, I pick his hands off of me. I have to try to avoid his eyes. “Peter, go home.”

“No.” The resolve and the determination in his voice shocks me and I look up quickly at his face. He would’ve never refused to leave me alone like that earlier today. Already, his old self is coming… oh no. Groaning again, I turn to open the door and force him out. This is not good. We were doing so well! We were nearing our 6-month mark! It was going to work! And now… now… well, it can still work! It will. I just need to get him out of her- His hands are on me again, oh no. That feels good.

“Y/N… “He tightens his grip on my waist nearly painfully, so familiar and demanding me to give in and enjoy it. You know, before the morning comes and he remembers everything and shuns me. But I wont give up, and I put my hands on his again to try and peel them off, before his breath hits the side of my neck and his voice, dark and with that ever-joking way about it, causing me to pause. The asshole tone. “I want to remember, now. And you’re my ticket. Plus… you’re mine, right? I have some punishment to implement for talking to Four. For some reason that really pissed me off.”

My body’s ahead of my mine, in this. Already leaning back and feeling the warmth of his chest against my back while my mouth still talks about him leaving. “You’ll regret this.”

“Hell I will, now come on.” I turn around to face him, causing him to flash me a bright, Peter smile before he much too soon since I wasn’t really expecting him to ever do this again, kisses me, and it feels so good my resolve melts away. Of course, its still hanging around back there in the back of my heart, but now all the time I wasn’t touching him, wasn’t thinking about him this way has taken over. Not to mention pure, dumb, human sex drive.

SMUT FROM HERE ON

Kissing is nice for a couple minutes, at least. Everywhere his body touches mine, from our chests to our lips and our tongues to my arms over his broad shoulders and his hands holding my hips against his feels solid and exciting. The way he kisses me can only be described as being carnal. Purely animalistic, wanting to taste, and the way I’m kissing back isn’t different at all. I can’t help sucking gently on his tongue when his lips part, causing a lascivious groan to come from him.

In fact, in response, one of his hands comes up to cup the back of my neck and hold my head in place so he take control of the kiss entirely, the other arm hooking around my lower back and compressing me against him. I don’t know if it was his goal, but now I can feel clearly the wicked, familiarly full way of his pants when he’s turned on. Which he is, right now. Truly.

It makes me think for how long he’s been waiting for this, if he’s gotten so stiff so quickly. I can’t say though that I’m in much a different situation. My keenness for him is so that my core is dripping in wait, wanting to be filled by him. Impatient, I break the kiss and nearly give in to it again when his lips nearly follow me but stay strong. “Peter… “Oh god, oxygen. Breath, need it. He’s so hot. His hair’s a mess of brown surrounding his head, scar on his neck is calling out to be sucked on, and his eyes are beautiful. Green, and mesmerising, and tempting as ever. Giving in feels a lot like freedom.

“Yeah?” The word comes out as a breath, quiet with just a hint of his voice peaking around.

I trace my hands down from his shoulders to the rest of him, enjoying the feel. “Sit down, I can’t ride you standing up.”

“Oh, right.” Once he’s sitting down, I can clearly see his erection straining defiantly against his pants before he takes them off, his underwear going to the same place on the floor. I want to sit on it so badly, my legs shaking uncontrollably with arousal as I get rid of my own lower garments. When he sees my shining, wet pussy, he embarrassingly zeroes right in on it, an unstable smirk on his lips. Good, then. I like it when he’s unstable. Never know what he’s going to do to me. “C’mere, baby.” Tentatively, hoping I don’t trip on the way because that would be embarrassing as hell, I do as he says. As soon as I get a foot from him, he gets off the chair and kneels in front of me. Oh, god, if he starts anything here my legs won’t keep me up. “Hmmm, I think I remember you wetter,” I struggle to breath for a moment when he, without warning or even looking up at me, swipes a finger up between the slit of my lips. My hands snatch his shoulders, so I can stay up and I open my legs more, ready. “I think I missed this. Can you tell? My fucking cock feels like its going to snap off if I don’t get to have you.” He glances up at me for a second, then does a double take and looks back at my face again, focusing on it. I wonder what’s going through his head. The old Peter would have told me right away, just to see me go red and squirm. He is becoming that one, slowly, but still this Peter just grins devilishly at me, hooks his hands around the back of my knees and nudges me towards him some more. My body moves on its own, reacting to his hands and shuffle forward.

Then, looking into my eyes, he does something that puts me in the palm of his hands. He licks a long stripe, as if I’m an icy pole, deeply through my lips. It makes me rigid, and moan out in bliss, my eyes falling shut. Not one to be dormant though I really want to, to just let him do whatever he wants to me, I take my right hand and entangle my fingers through his soft, hickory hair and grip his shoulder with the other, swinging my leg over his right shoulder before opening my eyes and peering down at him again. He looks surprised, in awe. I feel freaken powerful. “You… you just going to stare at me Peter, or finish what you started.”

Its not a question, it’s a demand. He needs to do that again.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He flashes me another Peter smile, then gets to work. And man, did my move make a difference. It felt good before, but now I really do think I might lose in my legs, especially since I’m only one! And, god, he looks good eating me out. Like he’s kissing me, taking generous gulps every time his tongue scoops some more of my essence, getting deeper with every plunge until I’m trying desperately to distract myself by playing with his hair. Simultaneously though I’m pressing my heat into his mouth.

In the end, it’s the sucking that pushes me over the edge. Just as I’m getting used to the pleasure, he abruptly puts his mouth over my cunt and sucks, causing shock to rush through me and my eyes to widen. ‘Peter!” I gasp, tightening my grip on his hair, as cum explodes from my core. He doesn’t drink it, just leans back on his heels and watches it drip down my thighs in satisfaction. After a moment, he looks like he’s in a trance as he watches, and I reel from the extreme pleasure.

“It’s going to feel so fucking good in there. I missed this.”

“How can you miss something you don’t remember.”

“I remember Capture the Flag,” He says it off-hand, before either of us can realise that he shouldn’t remember that. I remember. Eric had picked him second for his team and me last because it was either me, or Christina and they didn’t have a good track record with her. I found Peter shortly after he got ‘shot’ with those neuro stim guns, and we stuck around that old carnival after everyone else left. He created a really dumb one liner, entailing that it’d make him feel better if I kissed his wounds. We didn’t get back until the early hours of the morning, getting probably near 2 and half hours of sleep. But he shouldn’t remember that.

My eyes snap down to him and hop down on my knees with him, looking into his eyes. Of course, I can’t tell just by looking at his eyeballs if he’s back, but maybe if I stare hard enough, he’ll tell me. After a moment, he just shrugs a little a smiles, blankly back at me. Then leans across and gives me a deep kiss. He pulls back and grins. “You’re the ticket, sweetheart. I knew it.”

Sighing, having let my hopes raise just then that he would be back, and wrap my arms over his shoulders and play more, softly with his hair. Looking at his lips, then his eyes. “Then maybe you should hurry up and take it.” I lower my voice, my heart bleeding to tell the secret I haven’t dares to utter to anyone, since Peter disappeared. “I want you back. I miss you.”

“I want to be back.” He leans towards me, curling an arm around my back so he can carefully lay me back on the floor. “Hey, when he’s back. Tell him for me that he owes you something big, for putting you through this.”

“Peter, are you making a dirty joke to me right now?” I giggle, looking at the ceiling now as he ready’s himself. He laughs, too.

“No, I actually didn’t hear that until you mentioned it. Really.”

“Really,” I roll my eyes, disbelieving.

“Absolutely Y/N! Now, let me concentrate.” That brings me back to the present. I realise I’m still dripping with cum from before, and when I look up at him above me ready to power into me fully, I realise I still fucking want him. He’s so tall, and strong, and I intend to give him a hickey on that neck scar if it is the last thing I do tonight.

Hooking my legs up and around his waist, I meet him in the middle for the first delicious thrust. I watch curiously, his face as it changes from mischievous to delighted, in an enticingly smutty way. That makes me grin, but then the pleasure hits me and a surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly amorous moan comes from me, as his cock powers through me, rubbing against my inner walls like static. In reaction the pleasure, I arch up into him, and pull him by the hair down to my mouth, pressing a slow, careful kiss to his lips first before moving on to that neck scar.

While he pounds into me, he also feels my ministrations on his neck. I lightly trace the tip of my tongue up the long line, then kiss the middle and start nibbling and sucking there to my liking, taking my time to enjoy it. And I know he does, too, because he mumbled a very sexy, guttural curse at one particular lick. It sent trickles of pleasure all the way down to my core.

This ecstasy goes on for who knows how long, I certainly wasn’t watching the time, before he lets himself go and I watch through half lidded eyes as he comes apart inside me, the stuff leaking out from around his dick and dripping out of me in warm spurts. I gives one last, hard thrust and I come along with him, a sigh escaping me and a sentence of curses from him. Carefully, he disconnects himself from me, and I get up and help him to his feet, beyond sleepy now. “… okay. That was nice, now… sleep?” I giggle, at the understatement and at his cute weary look.

“Show the way,”

“Yes sir, come on.” I lead him by the hand to my bedroom. Quickly we clean ourselves up, and then we hop in and the bed is so, extremely comfy after the floor. “Can’t believe we did that on the floor when this was here… “I mumble, tiredly.

“Wouldn’t be the weirdest place.” He pulls me toward him and I entangle our legs, almost subconiously. I’m so tired I don't pick up on that hint.

Snorting, I shake my head as I start to fall asleep. “No, guess not… “

~~~

In the morning, I wake up to peter already awake. He hasn’t moved much, just… you know, rested his head on his fist and is watching me sleep.

I squint and push my head back further into my pillow and away from him suspiciously. “… Goodmorning.”

He flashes a wicked grin. Wide smile and dull eyes, like he wants you to think he knows something you don’t. Or worse, he does. Very Peter-like. “Morning, beautiful.”

Even more suspiciously, I try to figure out first on my own what’s up, because something surely is. All I remember is what we did last night, and shame washes over me. Oh, lord… it’s too early for this. “What?”

“Told you, you were the ticket- “That makes me gasp, and sit up immediately, hitting my forehead on his and causing pain that I ignore. He rubs his forehead, but doesn’t seem mad. Just cheeky, and a little evil. “Christ, Y/N, I guess the honeymoons over, huh??”

I clench the sheets under my fists and chew on my bottom lip. “You’re… back?”

He just gives me a look, like ‘Well, obviously’.

No, no. I need a real answer. Does he realise what he’s put me through?? Probably. He is a jerk after all. “Peter?”

“The one and only.”

#Peter Hayes x Reader #Oneshot #Smut #Lemon #Divergent #Caleb Prior #Tris Prior #Four #Peter Hayes #Book Events #Divergent Imagine #Divergent x Reader #Allegiant

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