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bijouxcarys · 8 months ago

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𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Masterlist

𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

I felt as though my life was hanging by a thread, teetering on the edge of existence. Every moment that passed solidified the fact that this was indeed my last day on Earth.

The train jolted forward, and it was as if my very soul had been violently ripped away. Maybe it happened when the doors closed, or perhaps when they opened to allow me inside. No, it was the culmination of this entire sequence of events that led to this overwhelming sense of finality.

I wished Brian could have accompanied me to Kings Cross, but his commitments with the band kept him occupied. I knew he would have been there if he could, his career and schedule were not to be disrupted by my emotional outbursts. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for Queen, knowing that they were on the cusp of recording a new album, their chance to truly shine. The world would finally see them for what they were: a group of beautiful, talented young men with an insatiable passion for painting the world with their music.

As the train sped onward, the world outside gradually transformed, the distance between London and myself growing with each passing moment. And with that distance, Brian would be left behind. I had never been one for long-distance relationships, and the thought of being apart from him filled me with a sense of unease.

That morning, I had risen earlier than necessary to bid a proper farewell to everyone. The haze of last night’s drunkenness prevented me from doing so then. Even Roger had said his goodbyes, and we exchanged a heartfelt hug. In some strange way, I think we both enjoyed getting under each other’s skin. Don’t misunderstand me; I held a deep resentment toward him for what he had done to my best friend. But I couldn’t ignore what Brian and Freddie had told me: it’s just Roger. Roger Taylor was a man who loved women and loved sex. But he also loved Emma, and Emma loved him. How could I possibly interfere with that? Despite the occasional barb we would throw at each other, it became a familiar dance that, in the end, always managed to coax a laugh from me, even if it initially wounded my heart.

John, in his ever-calm demeanour, offered me words of wisdom as he often did. He urged me to try and understand my parents’ perspective, should the need arise. John was the quiet one, and I must admit I haven’t mentioned him much. But he possessed a serene presence that was truly awe-inspiring. Of course, those who knew him better than I did understood that he had a wild side buried deep within him, a side I yearned to discover. Sadly, I hadn’t had enough time with him to unveil that aspect of John Deacon. Yet, I longed for it. Every time he embraced me, his hair brushing against my face with its softness, he exuded a cuddliness that I couldn’t help but adore.

From an outsider’s perspective, Freddie and I could easily be mistaken for a couple. Our connection was undeniable, a deep affection that flowed both ways. There was something truly extraordinary about Freddie Mercury, unlike anyone I had ever encountered. He possessed an air of intimidation at first, but those who knew him understood that he was one of the kindest souls to grace this earth. If you didn’t have a special place in your heart for Freddie, well, you must be out of your mind. He clung to me like a koala, offering words of protection and urging me to give anyone who gave me trouble a good kick, or else he would take matters into his own hands. His parting words to me were simple yet quintessentially Freddie: “Stay fabulous.”

Now, let’s talk about the emotional rollercoaster that was saying goodbye to Brian and Emma. Yes, there was tension with Emma, and things weren’t exactly perfect. But she was the person who helped me settle into the unfamiliar university environment. She was there for me during moments of panic, tears streaming down my face and my cheeks turning crimson. She lent a comforting presence when I woke up in the dead of night, needing someone to listen and understand, even when I was tempted to fall back into my old habits of self-harm. Emma knew every part of me, just as I knew every part of her. We were more than friends; we were like sisters. And this would be the first time in a long while that I would be returning to Yorkshire without her by my side. The thought of being separated from her made me nervous, but I held it together as we bid our farewells.

Saying goodbye to Brian, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He had witnessed every ounce of my Christmas-induced paranoia and did everything in his power to ease my worries. Sometimes, he may have been a tad overly attentive, but at the end of the day, he was my entire world, and my world revolved around him. The tears simply could not be contained as I wrapped my arms tightly around him. In that moment, he held me so close that it felt as though we could merge into one and disappear into a whimsical realm. Yet, his comforting whispers and the velvety tone of his voice served as a reminder that this was reality, and I was still grounded in it. He stayed by my side for as long as he could before the boys had to depart, but the time I had with him was worth every second.

Alone, I found myself in that moment. My bag of belongings sat faithfully beside me, my only companion on this journey. Prepared for the four-hour train ride, I clutched my favourite book, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” Despite its dark and sombre tone, it served as a reminder that my own life could have taken a far more tragic path.

As the train approached Leeds station, a wave of nausea washed over me, and the surroundings grew increasingly familiar. The conversation I had with my mother before leaving for Kings Cross replayed in my mind, igniting a fiery rage within me. What were the words that stirred such anger? Let me share them with you.

“We can’t afford to cover your travel expenses, Maria. You’ll have to pay for your own train ticket.”

My stomach twisted with fury as I repeated those words, a relentless loop of frustration.

“You’ll have to take a bus from the station back home. Your father and I won’t be around.”

Anxiety coursed through my veins once again, and I forced myself to remember what awaited me upon my return to the South. My parents knew all too well about my paralysing social anxiety when it came to traveling alone. I had to practice making the journey to London four times before starting university. Why couldn’t they have shown the courtesy of meeting me when I hadn’t been home in so long? The thought only heightened my unease.

It did little to ease my worries when Brian insisted on giving me money for the train tickets, despite my attempts to convince him I could handle the expense myself. I despised relying on Brian’s financial support. He had his own dreams to chase, and I often felt like an obstacle in the path of his success.

Taking a deep breath, I settled into my seat, closing my eyes, and hoping that the journey would pass swiftly, my mounting anxiety fading into the background.

Thankfully, I managed to locate the correct bus at Leeds Station. Awkwardly positioned at the front, clutching my bag, I held onto the metal pole for dear life as the driver navigated the roads with a hint of recklessness. We left the bustling city centre behind, venturing into the more secluded outskirts.

Observing the people passing by in cars, on bicycles, and on foot, I couldn’t help but slip into the mindset of sixteen-year-old Maria. I was a timid and fearful teenager, lacking experience and a clear sense of purpose. It felt as though I was returning home from school once again, my white collar chafing against my neck under the scorching sun, my hair haphazardly pulled back into a messy ponytail. Resting my head against the cold metal pole, vivid memories resurfaced: boys stealing glances at girls, throwing sweets and paper across the bus, while the girls fixed their hair, lost in fantasies about The Beatles and The Beach Boys. These memories appeared as crystal clear as they were in those days. I was always the girl who sat at the back of the bus, nestled in the corner, engrossed in a book about mysterious sea creatures or the artistry of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. Old movies held a special place in my heart. My friends and I each had our own transistor radios, tucked into our pockets, tuned to different stations, creating a cacophony of sound at the rear of the bus, much to the annoyance of others. But we never cared about anyone’s opinion. Often, I’d tune in to stations playing rock music, immersing myself in its raw intensity—a humorous attempt at channelling my inner demon. Well, sort of.

“Stop!” The driver’s voice jolted me back to reality, and I realised it was time to disembark. Expressing my gratitude to the driver, I stepped off the bus, slinging my bag over my shoulder. It was time to find my way back…

“Mum!” I called out, shutting the front door behind me. Silence. I tried calling for my dad. Still, no response. My brother. Again, no answer. The front door had been locked upon my arrival, forcing me to retrieve the spare key hidden beneath the welcome mat.

Dropping my bag in the hallway and placing the key in the dish, I made my way into the living room. Everything appeared unchanged—impeccably clean and eerily quiet. The Christmas tree stood peacefully in the corner, adorned with minimal decorations to avoid any hint of “tackiness.” The other rooms exuded the same atmosphere, except for the clamour of the washing machine emanating from the kitchen. I knew my parents would be out, but I had expected them to return before me.

With a frustrated sigh, I lugged my bag up the stairs and headed towards what used to be my room. The sight that greeted me was devastating. My parents had completely transformed the space—my posters and photos had been taken down and carelessly stuffed into boxes, tossed into the wardrobe. My own piano, once occupying the back wall, had vanished into the unknown. It now resembled a generic guest room. And in a way, a guest is what I had become.

I could delve into the details of my home and the emotions it stirred within me, but it doesn’t require a genius to understand that I was far from pleased to be back. The fact that my presence and past in that house had been discarded and relegated to obscurity left me disheartened. Knowing it would be a while before my parents returned, I decided to run myself a bath. Slipping into the mildly hot water, bubbles enveloping me up to my neck, I rested my hand on the side of the tub, my elbow supporting me. The loneliness was already overwhelming, aching for his touch and attention, despite it having been merely ten hours since we had been apart.

I bit my lip, glancing at the phone resting on the side table—a peculiar addition to our bathroom, I admit. I blinked a few times, trying to grasp the time and contemplating whether Brian would be occupied. Knowing he had a recording session scheduled for the day, I anticipated his likely late-night finish. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes, steeling myself for the arduous two weeks ahead.

Even by seven in the evening, my parents hadn’t returned, and my fifteen-year-old brother was presumably still out with his friends, engaging in whatever teenage pursuits consumed their leisure time. I managed to prepare myself a pasta meal, opting for the more indulgent brands we had in the house, without creating a mess in the kitchen. Sad as it may be, I didn’t promptly wash up and tidy everything simply out of a desire to be helpful or adhere to moral obligations. I did so out of genuine fear of my mother’s reprimand. At twenty-two years of age, I remained petrified of her. Nevertheless, I was certain she would find fault in my actions. Perhaps I was expected to starve until she dictated otherwise.

Seated on my bed, clad in one of Brian’s button-up shirts, I massaged lotion onto my legs, leaning against the headboard. It was in this relaxed state that the phone beside my bed suddenly rang. I startled at the abrupt sound but swiftly answered, realising the importance of not missing any calls intended for my parents. Yet, the voice that greeted me enveloped me in the most delightful warmth.

“Brian!” I exclaimed, my volume bordering on excessive, prompting him to chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Hello, love. I’ve been terribly worried about you and wanted to check how you’re doing.” The genuine concern in his tone sent shivers down my spine, momentarily brightening my face with a smile.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet… I’m okay. I’m the only one home at the moment, so I don’t have to worry about impressing anyone. Yet.” I let out a dry laugh, continuing to massage my calf with one hand while cradling the phone with the other.

“Your parents aren’t there?”

“No, but I’m not complaining.” I could almost sense the concern swirling in Brian’s mind. “Don’t worry, Bri. They’re off to some party with their friends. As for my brother, who knows? I’ll just assume he’s out with his mates.”

“If you’re certain you’re alright… Don’t think I won’t hop on the next train and whisk you away,” he responded, his voice tinged with a protective instinct.

“Please do…” I whined playfully, pouting as if he could see me through the phone.

Brian’s chuckle resonated through the phone. “I wish I could see you. I miss you a lot. I-I know it’s silly, I mean, it’s only been like twelve hours. But I do.”

My heart swelled, and my eyes welled up with tears. “Bri…” I sighed. “I miss you too, so much.”

“Does your accent automatically become a hundred percent Northern when you’re up there? Is it the air? Do I really need to come and rescue you?”

“I wouldn’t complain if you broke in and whisked me back down South. I’d thank you until the end of time.”

“I knew you enjoyed it when I get a bit rough.” He wasn’t entirely wrong, and I audibly gasped, nonetheless.

“Brian May, behave yourself,” I muttered, smirking to myself.

“Maria Brennan, don’t try to deny it.” He bantered with me for a few more minutes, our usual playful exchange. And for a moment, I felt like I was back in our flat with Emma, feeling more content with everything. It was a testament to the profound impact Brian had on me and my life. But when it was time for Brian to end the call, I put up a fight.

“No, Bri, please… Can’t you talk a little longer?”

“Ria…” He sighed, pausing for a moment. I held my breath, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Okay, just a bit longer… Rog is struggling to tune his snare, and he’s throwing a bit of a tantrum about it. I don’t think we’ll be getting back to recording anytime soon.”

“Yay,” I said, beaming. “How’s the recording going?” I couldn’t believe I had forgotten to mention it or inquire about how it was progressing. I felt like a terrible girlfriend in that moment.

“It’s going well, yeah. I’ve added a few more tracks to ‘Doing Alright,’ so it sounds a bit richer than when I perform it live. I’d say it’s all coming together quite nicely. Freddie’s working on some obscure number during our breaks. We all seem to be constantly in motion. Ideas are flowing out of us, love. I can’t wait to share some of the finished material with you when we’re done.”

I could have listened to Brian talk endlessly about music, stars, animals, or anything else if it meant he would speak like that forever. As you all know, he truly possesses the most beautiful speaking voice. He always has.

“I’m excited to hear it all when it’s finished. And I promise you, I’ll be the first person to buy it when it’s released. I’ll frame that album and keep it in a temperature-controlled room. I’m serious, Brian. Nobody is ready for the impact you all will have on the industry. In the best possible way, of course.”

“You sure are our biggest fan. Well, maybe Emma surpasses your enthusiasm, but that might be because of Roger.”

“I’m just a proud girlfriend, Bri. Very proud,” I smiled. These were the moments I wished could last forever, but they always seemed to end too quickly.

“And I’m a proud boyfriend. I’m so proud of you for making it on your own, my love. I truly am,” Brian replied.

“So am I…” I wasn’t one to seek validation from myself, but something about Brian’s validation allowed me to see how strong I could be when I needed to be.

There was some murmuring on the other end of the line, and I heard John calling Brian back to them. I frowned, bracing myself for the unwanted farewell.

“I guess you have to go now.”

“Yeah… But I’ll call you tomorrow, Maria, I promise,” he assured me. “I love you.”

Despite the bittersweet moment, I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear at the freedom we now had to express our love for each other.

“I love you too, Brian. Don’t stress yourself out too much.” Another shout from Brian’s end made him sigh in annoyance.

“I’m fucking coming, hold on a second!” he shouted away from the phone before his voice returned. “I’ll try not to. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, love. Bye.” And just like that, he was gone.

I awoke with a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, a sense that something had changed overnight. As I stumbled into the kitchen, still half-asleep and clad in Brian’s button-up shirt and pyjama shorts, the sight of my mum bustling about sent a wave of tension through me.

“There she is!” My mum squealed with an overly cheerful tone that grated on my exhausted nerves. I dragged myself to a chair, my head sinking into my palms. I didn’t mean for my response to sound to drained and off-putting, but seriously, could you blame me?

“Here I am,” I groaned, my words laced with weariness. But my mum, unphased by my lacklustre reply, beamed at me as she placed breakfast in front of me. I grimaced at the sight of it, trying to hide my displeasure.

“Don’t give me that look, Maria Brennan. You used to love this when you were younger,” she scolded, shaking her head as she returned to the counter. My eyes fixated on the avocado slop smeared over some granary bread.

No, I used to give it to the dog when you weren’t looking.

“Oh, yes. How silly.” I mustered up a façade of faux happiness as I brought the unappetising mess to my lips, forcing myself to take a bite. It didn’t take long for me to adjust, having spent years as a teenager raining myself not to spit out distasteful food. As I stared ahead, my mum settled down at the opposite side of the table, cradling a cup of tea in her hands.

“So, you managed to get some money for the train then?”

I raised my eyebrows, picking at the bread. “Kinda.” I noticed the stern expression on my mum’s face and quickly corrected myself. “Kind of. I borrowed some money from… someone.”

She seemed to miss my momentary stutter, much to my relief, and sipped her tea. “Oh? That’s nice. Was it Emma?”

“No.” I shook my head, nibbling on the piece of bread I’d picked off. “It was someone else. A friend.” I stared down at my plate, silently praying for an escape from this conversation.

“It wasn’t that boy you mentioned before, was it? You know what boys want at the end of the day, and I’m not going to sit here and watch my little girl get messed around by a Londoner—”

“He’s not even from London, technically,” I interjected with a sigh. “And he gave me the money because he knew I was struggling. Because someone didn’t help me out in the first place, like I thought they would.” I jabbed, looking back up at my mum, whose widened eyes betrayed her shock at my mildly confrontational tone.

“You’re twenty-two years old. You aren’t a child anymore.”

“Exactly. So why am I not allowed to have a boyfriend just because my mum said so?” It had only been ten minutes, and we were already locked in an argument. A new record if I do say so myself.

“So he is your boyfriend, then?” My mum nodded slowly, attempting to regain her composure.

“Pretty much,” I affirmed. “Where’s Dad? I want to talk to him.” I stood up abruptly, a mix of frustration and longing fuelling my impulsive action.

“Sit down, he’s not even here. He’s working,” she snapped back.

I clenched my jaw and begrudgingly resumed my seat, crossing my arms like an angry teenager. “I honestly don’t see the point of me coming back here if all you’re going to do is pick apart my life—a life I have managed to build somewhat decently since leaving here.”

“Oh yes, Maria, a life that consists of living in a disgusting university flat and running around with a boy who only wants one thing from you—that’s very decent of you.”

“You don’t even know anything about him, Mum!” I shouted, shocking her immensely. “You don’t know what he’s done for me! I’ve made new friends that, hopefully, I’ll keep forever, and Brian is not going to mess me around. Brian is not just some boy in London. If you met him, you’d love him. I love him. And you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

I leaned back, my gaze shifting to the ceiling as I attempted to clam my anger, taking deep breaths.

“Fine, I guess I can let this one go, I can let it slip!” my mother exclaimed with an air of faux magnanimity.

“Wow, thanks,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought I detected a glimmer of remorse in my mother’s eyes. There was a strained silence between us, and in these moments, I questioned the necessity of our arguments. I sometimes felt guilty for snapping or lacking the motivation to connect with my family, but it was a two-way street.

“Did you say his name was Brian?” my mother asked, her tone slightly softer.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“What does he do?” she inquired.

My voice softened as I thought about Brian. “He’s studying astrophysics at the university. I met him while doing some work experience.” I tried to keep my explanation concise, wary of divulging too much. I was almost afraid to mention that Brian was in a band…

“Oh? What on Earth would an astrophysics student need an events management student for?” she pressed.

I don’t know why I had hoped my mother would have forgotten the time I mentioned Brian’s involvement in a band. It was wishful thinking, to say the least.

“Professor Ross needed someone to manage a band and—”

“For God’s sake, Maria, a band? You’re involved with someone who’s in a band?” My mother shook her head, narrowing her eyes as she placed her teacup on the table. “You know what those boys are like!”

“God, Mum, he’s not like that! He’s one of the sweetest guys I have ever met, and I swear I’ve felt safer with him in the past few months than the twelve hours I’ve been back here!” I retorted, my frustration building.

As if on cue, the front door slammed shut, sending a chilly gust of wind through the room, sweeping across my exposed legs under the table.

“You can hear the bloody shouting from up the driveway. What the hell is going on?” my dad’s voice boomed as he appeared in the doorway, his gaze shifting between my mother and me with a stern intensity.

“Our daughter is seeing a boy who’s in a band,” my mother informed him, settling back in her seat with a smug expression that made my stomach churn. I let out a weary sigh, turning my attention to my father, hoping for a more understanding reaction.

“That’s sweet. Why are we arguing?” he responded, his voice sickly and patronising. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being yelled at.

“Thank you, Dad,” I sighed, glancing back at my unhappy mother.

“If you come back pregnant this summer, you’re never going back, and we will sort that out. And if you catch him sleeping with someone else, don’t be surprised…” my mother warned, her words dripping with disdain.

“Linda!” my dad interjected, his tone firm as he shook his head. “Let her do what she wants. She’s just having a bit of fun. You weren’t any better when you were in university. It’ll blow over.” With that, he walked away, heading into the hallway to hang up his coat, leaving me pleasantly surprised by his support.

“This is so much fun already,” I muttered sarcastically under my breath, my frustration lingering despite my father’s brief intervention.

Christmas Day was a far cry from the joyful celebrations I had experienced down South at the flat. My family’s house lacked the festive atmosphere, with scarce decorations adorning the rooms. The gifts I received from my parents were well-intentioned but fell flat. Endless books related to my course were piled before me, which would have been helpful if I hadn’t already acquired all the necessary materials. I had to constantly remind myself that my situation could have been worse, berating myself internally and, at times, physically, for feeling so discontented. On the surface, I had an amazing life—supportive friends, a loving and affluent family, and an incredible boyfriend. But that’s the insidious nature of developing depression—it doesn’t discriminate or wait for the right time.

On a somewhat lighter note, albeit still messed up, my brother decided to grace us with his presence on Christmas Eve. To my dismay and overwhelming anger, he arrived for his girlfriend’s house—yes, his fucking girlfriend’s house. Needless to say, I erupted in fury.

Moving on.

It was the final weekend before I returned to my true home, just two days until my departure. My family had planned to host a New Year’s party at our house. Standing before the mirror, I took in my appearance, my gaze settling on the extra weight I carried around my hips, legs, arms, and face. This self-consciousness often deterred me from wearing dresses, and now I felt the constriction of my figure in one. The dress I wore was a flutter-sleeved botanical design, its fabric flowing and adorned with floral patterns. After showering, I had braided my hair, but the strands were now released, transformed into loose waves and curls. I meticulously applied my signature makeup, the only aspect I could hold onto amidst the turmoil. Don’t get me wrong—I liked the dress. But I couldn’t shake the discomfort it brought. Who was I to deny a dress gifted by my own father? Already, I could feel the burning sensation in my feet caused by the five-inch heels I wore, despite their appeal in elongating my legs.

“You look like a massive flower,” my brother remarked from the doorway, his voice dripping with arrogance, followed by an obnoxious chuckle. I shot him a narrowed-eyed glare, clenching my jaw, and he instantly understood to shut up.

“And you look like a little shit, but I’m not complaining,” I retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction. I turned my attention back to the mirror, running my hands over my body one last time before leaving the room. The distant sound of music and murmured conversations from downstairs permeated the house through our stereo system. I glanced down at my brother, who was dressed in a suit and a bow tie. “You look like a penguin,” I stifled a laugh. “If I have to wear this, you have to wear that,” I commented, noticing his scowl and uncomfortable shift.

My brother and I meandered down the hallway, intentionally prolonging our time before mingling with our parents’ friends.

“Do you know any of these people?” I shouted over the increasingly loud music.

“They’ve been to the house a few times, but no. Don’t know their names or anything about them, to be honest,” my brother replied in his strong Yorkshire accent, providing a sense of comfort. I realised that as long as I stuck by his side for the rest of the night, I would be okay.

“Chris…” I called his name, stopping at the top of the stairs. He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “Please don’t walk off and leave me. You know how I am with new people…” A quick flashback of the panic attack at The Britannia flashed through my mind, back when Brian and I were just starting out. Chris tried to act cool, as every fifteen-year-old does, but eventually he patted my arm, giving me a softer look than usual.

“You know I won’t. I don’t know anybody either!” He joked, looking up at me, although he didn’t have to look up very far; he was a tall teenager. “Now,” he said, fixing his hair and straightening his suit, topping it off with a characteristic inclusion of some sunglasses that did not fit with the rest of the outfit at all. “Let’s go and die, sis.”

The night unfolded with my mum enthusiastically introducing me to everyone and vice versa. She took pride in having a daughter who was attending university in her early twenties.

“And you do events management? How different,” remarked Shirley, some random woman, raising her prosecco to her lips without taking a sip.

“Yeah… It’s pretty different,” I nodded, fidgeting with my fingers that were interlaced in front of me. “I actually met my boyfriend through my course.”

Shirley’s eyes widened, leaning forward with interest. “Boyfriend? It’s all happening for you lot, isn’t it, Linda?” She glanced at my mum, who attempted to maintain a polite smile through the topic of Brian.

“Well, we’ll see if it happens, won’t we, Maria?” My mum looked at me, conveying her scepticism about the longevity of my relationship with Brin for the umpteenth time.

“It will,” I affirmed, nodding confidently. “He’s a guitarist. I’ve been helping his band secure gigs and stuff like that…” My words trailed off as I noticed Shirley’s lack of interest. “Yeah, it’s been good,” I concluded, averting my gaze and ensuring that Chris was still by my side. He was, amusing himself with impromptu dance moves to the blaring Elvis record.

It felt like I was trapped in an endless loop, having the same conversation with parents’ friends and facing the same disinterested or confused expressions that Shirley wore. Chris and I retreated to the kitchen, where the music was slightly less overwhelming but still loud enough for him to continue his dance routine. I observed him from the side, pouring myself a glass of lemonade with a splash of vodka.

“I must admit, Chris, your dancing has been the most calming thing tonight. Thank you for making me cackle with your… extraordinary dancing skills,” I said, emphasising “extraordinary”, causing him to stick his tongue out at me.

“I don’t have to worry about being asked what I’m doing. Another year in school, then off to work,” Chris grinned, retrieving a J2O from the fridge.

“Yeah, I’m sure Mum will let you work instead of going to college,” I slurred slightly on my S’s.

“And I’m sure Mum will appreciate you getting drunk at her New Year’s party,” Chris smirked, perching himself on the kitchen counter. He watched as I downed half of my glass in one go. “Have you talked to your friends?”

I sighed, hoisting myself up onto the kitchen island, facing Chris. “I spoke to Emma last night. She’s been with Roger since Thursday, so I can only imagine the state of the flat. I tried calling Brian this morning, but Freddie picked up. I forgot to bring Brian’s home number, so I don’t know when I’ll get to talk to him next.” I frowned, swirling the liquid in my glass before finishing it. My surroundings faded away as thoughts of my curly-haired lover overwhelmed my mind. “I miss him, Chris. A lot.”

“Well, you’re going back on Monday. Won’t you see him then?” Chris asked.

“Yeah… only two more days,” I chuckled, looking back at him. “Before I left, John mentioned a New Year’s gig they’re doing at The King’s Head, even though it’s not actually on New Year’s, so Freddie had a fit about it being on January 2nd, not the 1st. Which… the 2nd is Monday.”

“Ooh, you should surprise him!” Chris suggested, taking a sip of his orange juice. “Does he know you’re going back on Monday?” I shook my head.

“I wasn’t sure when I’d be leaving here, so no.”

“Perfect!” Chris hopped off the counter. “Go to the gig and surprise him.”

As I gazed at my brother’s enthusiastic face, a sense of warmth washed over me, as if I were truly at home. He served as a reminder that not all of my family members were unbearable. “I knew there was a reason I keep you in the loop.” I playfully slapped his cheek.

“And because I’m your devoted brother,” he feigned swooning, leaning into me. We embraced for a few minutes, united in our unfortunate situation with our parents. We had to be there for each other whenever possible. It was moments like these that made me feel guilty for leaving him. But he knew I’d always be there, whether physically or over the phone.

With my chin resting on his head and my legs winging off the island, I couldn’t resist teasing him. “You still look like a bloody penguin.”

“Fuck off.”

“Who taught you to speak like that?” I scolded.

“Uh, you?”

“Touché, brother.”

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alyjojo · 2 years ago

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The Person On Your Mind in February ❤️‍🔥 2023 - Taurus

Whole of their energy towards Taurus: Wheel of Fortune rev

I don’t get much love from this, though it exists in some form, and their messages have them as “other half”. You have a broken heart. This seems to be about work more than anything though, or money. If they’re not around you, they may not be able to afford it right now. Or you can’t, and that’s too much on them. You two probably worked together at some point, they could be a “work husband/wife” sort of person. They’ve hit bad times, probably outside of their control where money is concerned, and they’ve been gone…but want to make a comeback. I don’t think they actually are, but that’s what they think about.

Feelings: 10 Pentacles

If you’ve had problems in a relationship, they know all about that. So you could be involved already, or they are, and whichever of you are partnered up, there’s problems in that relationship. Like they know, but they don’t *know everything*, they’re just aware. Nothing has happened where that’s concerned either. They could have a secret crush on you and you’re already in some drama not even paying attention to them, 4 Cups shows them feeling ignored and not chosen by you. They probably want ya, whether you know that or not…isn’t seen.

Intentions: The Sun rev

They’re not at all confident…7 Pentacles could show them having waited a long time. For you to open up, tell them the truth, or maybe they want to tell you the truth about something. They don’t though, and they don’t think they’ll ever get the chance to. They intend to wait and see, but not forever.

Actions: 8 Cups

They’re leaving, what’s the use of waiting for someone that doesn’t know they exist? If you’ve worked together, they could be losing that job, and that’s why your heart is broken, because regardless of what’s happened you two are separating for good now. I don’t think you saw this person how they wanted to be seen, maybe that’s what this reading is for. Could also just be a good friend, it’s the other half that throws me. If they have deeper feelings, it never got past friendship.

Messages:

Their side:

- Soothing presence 😌

- Other Half

Your side:

- Controlling

- Broken Heart 💔

Possible signs:

Capricorn, Taurus, Pisces & Cancer

If you’re dealing with:

8 Wands shows a lot of action and communication going on this month in your social circles, lots of messages and probably visiting with each other as well.

Aries - truly a magician, they’ve got you wearing rose colored glasses all daydreamy like, may not really be how you’re seeing them

Taurus - pissed off because something is unfair where you’re concerned

Gemini - The Empress rev & The Lovers, had to clarify and got The Emperor rev wow…probably an ex, yes it was meant to be & a possible soul tie, but there’s not been any positive growth with this person

Cancer - vicious with their communication or not speaking at all because of a missed opportunity or they’ve lost money somehow, if it’s this person, you haven’t spoken since they left

Leo - failing at something, maybe failing with you, more focused on themselves either way

Virgo - possibly apologizing for breaking your heart, or they’re making a decision that could

Libra - very passionate about you and wants to cooperate on something together, especially if it gets you in their bed 💯

Scorpio - indecisive and stressed tf out

Sagittarius - nostalgic about hopes & wishes from the past regarding you, or you are

Capricorn - a boss bitch that’s very busy, one of you finds the other one attractive

Aquarius - loves you deeply and is very happy, this is a beautiful relationship

Pisces - could have a new relationship with this person, you’re exactly what they want, one of you could be traveling to see the other

#taurus tarot reading #person on your mind #february 2023 #Taurus #tarot

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bratshaws · 2 years ago

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goodness gracious 30. brb x oc

( i wish tumblr suggested me different gifs I DONT REALLY LIKE TO REPEAT THEM EVEN THOUGH I LOVE THEM???)

a/n: i have no idea if what i wrote is even legal to do.......but I've seen people writing similar stuff and I wanted to give it a try > - > also!Yeah, I created a college for Bea, because I felt....uncomfortable using one that already exists h a h

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: *taps mic* Rooster is absolutely whipped.

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi

Beatrice watched with wide eyes as Bradley chatted with the man inside the taco truck as if they were close friends in full Spanish. He spoke so smoothly, no accent at all. Since Spanish was somewhat similar to Italian she could understand a few words, but not the whole sentence.

He would switch back into English to ask her what she wanted then go right back to Spanish without missing a beat. She just stood there,dumbfounded, thinking that the possibility of Bradley getting even more attractive went up exponentially. He thanked the man after grabbing the tray with their tacos, quesabirria for both of them with a side of fries and soda, before they went to the picnic styled tables not too far from the food truck.

Once they were seated, Beatrice couldn’t help herself, “I had no idea you spoke Spanish.” she says, bringing her own plate closer to herself while Bradley chuckles as he pops his soda open, “I–since when??”

“Oh, it’s been a while.” he replies, bringing the soda to his lips to take a sip, then setting it aside when he was done, “A few years.”

Beatrice supported her chin on her hand, furrowing her eyebrows as she was still digesting the information that her incredibly handsome boyfriend spoke another language. She lowered her hand once she felt she stood there looking at him dumbly for too long, “I…” he looked up from his plate, giving her a little smile that clearly showed he was more than pleased about her reaction, “It’s…nice.” and very attractive “I-It’s very nice…”

Bradley didn’t even try to hold back the full blown grin, licking his thumb clean from the consommé as he opened the lid, “Thank you, babe. It took me a while to get this good.” her cheeks are such a sweet pinkish red color as she opens the little container on her side as well.

There’s something about Beatrice still being affected by him even after their time together that’s so fascinating to him. While he doesn’t blush like she does whenever she’s cute with him, he is just as smitten by her presence. It was very nice for his ego, he couldn’t lie.

And when she says she likes one of his favorite foods, the ego burst doubles in size. She does get a bit messy, there’s consommé all over her lips but she is doing that little dance you do when you like a food, moving side to side with her cheeks full. It was a bit colder, he had to admit he was starting to get bothered about it a bit, but the heat from the food truck behind them and the lights above their heads helped keep the warmth.

They talk for a good while, almost reminding him of their first date together at the Trooper diner. Maybe it was the way she still sounded excited when talking about her personal interests or it was just the way her cheeks reddened too, but it brought back great memories.

And that kiss, whew, he dreamt about that kiss for days after it happened. That red lipstick made her mouth appear like fresh berries. She was just wearing a light lip gloss now, one that gave her lips a light pink sheen, but he couldn’t help but look down towards her mouth from time to time.

“You have a bachelor degree in Political Science?” Beatrice repeats, wide eyes looking right at him, “I had no idea! Brad! You never told me!”

“I told you now, gorgeous.” he replies, smiling while wiping his lips then his hands, laughing at the way her eyes narrowed at him, “I mean, I don’t usually tell a lot of people. It’s in my file and you know, sometimes it’s a good conversation starter.”

Beatrice then rolled her eyes with a smile, “Still! I think it’s very interesting.” she says sweetly, “Did you like it?”

“I didn’t hate it.” he says with a shrug, “It was interesting, it definitely helped me when I entered the Navy.”

Beatrice looked at him with amazement, leaning her chin on her palm as he explained it, “Well, I think it’s really cool.” she smiles, then looks down at her plate sheepishly, “I majored in Art at Northride College…I really liked it. it’s what I’ve been wanting to do for so long, you know? It’s where I met Shells and Ev, and the other girls too. I think–” she pauses, thinking about it for a few seconds, “I think it was the best time of my life. I had broken up with Eric, I moved out of my parents’ house and moved to campus and I experienced a lot of stuff I’ve never imagined.”

Bradley smiles at how her eyes shine when talking about it, she’s so proud of herself he couldn’t help but be proud of her too. He knew how much pressure her family had put on her, honestly after meeting them he could understand why she’d feel so relieved to do something for herself. “I mean,I’ve seen some stuff you did. You are incredibly talented.” he says, bringing the soda to his lips, “But there’s still the one you don’t want to show me because it’s a surprise…”

Bea chuckles, “It’s true! I am my worst critic and it has to be perfect!”

“It could literally be a stick figure Bea, I’d still think it’s incredible.” he says after putting the soda aside, “But,I will respect that and give you time so you can show me whenever you want.”

“Thank you,Roos.” her cheeks reddened yet again, taking another bite of her taco with a little smile. “I was also,” she begins, after swallowing, “Part of the Mountain Rams club with Ev, we used to go hiking and camping all around California.”

Rooster blinked, it was like the cupid shot him in the heart again. She likes video games, she’s sweet and she likes nature and hiking? He almost felt like he was losing his mind because Beatrice was literally just perfect for him, “I didn’t know you liked that kind of stuff.”

“I love it, to be honest!” she smiles, “Me and Ev went up to San Gabriel Mountains once, we met some Pomona college students too and we had tea together while sharing stories about our colleges. It was so fun.”

“You know, I thought there was no way I’d fall even more in love with you, then you drop that?” he whistles low, pressing his hand over his heart, “Babe, you’ll never get rid of me. We could go hiking together sometime.”

Her green irises sparkled with interest, “I’d love that! I haven’t hiked in so long! Shells never wants to go with me,” she rolls her eyes, “She used to be part of the Debate club, she says she can handle climbing words but not climbing hills…she even said how weird it was that I joined the hiking club instead of the singing club.”

He had the memory of when Shells sent him the Karaoke video, which he still had in his phone because he just couldn’t stop looking at how beautiful Beatrice was, and noticed how Beatrice had a certain intonation that went higher than the normal karaoke goer. He also heard her hum songs often, her voice even without being sung had a lot more power than he ever heard, “You do have a nice voice.” she disagrees without saying anything, shaking her head, “You do, though.”

“I’m as tuned as a screaming cat.” she laughs, looking at her hands, “I’m not that good, I like singing but– you know? It’s not like I’m the new Adele or whatever.”

Bradley supported his chin on his hand, keeping his eyes on her with a little smile,”I think you are tuned, I mean…you scream my name really nicely–Ow!” The subtle kick on his shin under the table makes him stop and laugh quietly, covering his mouth with the hand that once supported his chin, Beatrice’s wide eyed stare only making him laugh even harder.

“Bradley! We are surrounded by people!” she chastised in a whisper, then her gaze softened, “I’m sorry for kicking you, are you okay?”

“You can always kiss it better.”

“Bradley.”

He laughs silently, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back the pure amusement darting through him, “Whaat? I’m not lying, am I?” his girlfriend says nothing, but her face turns a bright scarlet as she eats the final pieces of her taco, chewing it so she wouldn’t bother with a reply, “It’s really nice.” she glares at him by the corner of her eye, turning her head to face the sky above them.

He stops after a while, finishing his own dinner before they decide to leave. He thanked the people in the food truck, again in perfect Spanish, before they walked back to the Bronco. He couldn’t help but give her butt a little tap when she walked around him to enter the car, laughing to himself at her straightened up - and wide eyed - position, with the quiet ‘Bradley!’ coming out of her mouth.

“So, do you want to go home yet?” he asks, resting the inside of his wrist on the wheel as he leans back on the seat. She takes a while to reply and a small part of him worries she’s actually mad at him. He relaxes when Beatrice says she doesn’t feel like going home yet but what could they do?

He smirks, “Well, I think I have an idea.”

“No!”

“What? Come on!” he calls, beckoning her close “It’s okay!”

They were both outside the base, well, sort of.She was outside, Bradley managed to get one of the back gates open - she had no idea who he talked to or what he did to achieve that- and he was partially inside with his arm stretched towards her, “Bradley! Is this even legal?” she asks quietly, almost hiding herself behind his car.

“Babe, I work here.” he beckons her again, “Come on! It’ll be fine!”

Beatrice looks back towards the base, then at him then to her surroundings. She clenches her eyes, muttering to herself before she walks from around the car to grab his hand. She makes a worried noise when the gates click shut and lock, standing closer to his torso with a deep frown. The base was massive and at night it was almost impossible to see what was going on, she could only see silhouettes of buildings and the faint lights that illuminate specific areas in the distance.

“Where are we going?” she asks quietly, still looking around herself, “Brad! You didn’t say if this was legal or not!”

“It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not an answer!” Bea reprimanded quietly, hugging his arm while being on edge, every little sound making her head snap up in worry. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? She could be responsible for making him lose his job! Oh no, they had to go back before anyone noticed them. But moving Bradley back was a chore, he was muscular and taller than she was, so it was like a chihuahua trying to yank a rottweiler away from their bowl of food.

She gave up with another worried noise, walking alongside him. He was so relaxed, strutting like nothing could affect him unlike his girlfriend who was just freaking out inside, “We’re almost there.”

“Where is almost there?” she replied in a quiet voice, frowning more the deeper they got into the base, “Bradley, where are we going?”

“Just a few more minutes, gorgeous.”

Beatrice groaned, pressing her forehead to his bicep and deciding to not look to wherever he was taking them or else she’d have a full blown panic attack thinking they could get caught. But she does pay attention when he stops and there’s a click, being followed by the sound of something opening and they go back to walking.

She feels no more wind around herself, so she could only assume they were indoors. Blinking, she lifts her head from his arm to look around, seeing they were in a room surrounded by lockers. She continues looking around, rubbing her fingers together as she takes in the area she’s currently in, stopping at Rooster who’s leaning his shoulder against one of the metal doors and is smiling at her “...Why are we here?”

Rooster shrugs, pushing himself away from the door, “Felt like it, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” She watches him fidget with the upper compartment of his locker, a smaller door that creaks open. He reaches inside with both hands, whatever was inside shining under the light above their heads. A helmet, not any helmet, but his helmet.

She gasps softly, approaching him to have a better look, seeing his call sign written right in golden yellow letters, “Woah…” she whispers, looking down their distorted reflection on the dark visor, not seeing how Bradley’s eyes softened while looking down at her, “This is your helmet.”

“Yep,” he says, offering towards her, “Here, hold it.”

Beatrice stares at it for a few seconds, “What if I drop it?” she murmurs, seriously worried and looking up at his expression, frowning when he looks weirdly entertained, “I’m serious! What if I drop it?”

“Gorgeous this thing handles more than you can imagine. Dropping won’t change anything.” he bounced the helmet in his hands, “Believe me. Just hold it.” she still gives him a weary look, but her smaller hands cup the sides of the helmet to bring up to her line of vision. Her worried façade turned into one of wonder, tilting the helmet this way and that to see every part of it.

Rooster’s chest bloomed with affection at how careful she was being, running her fingers on his call sign with a little smile, “Try it on.” she snaps her head up at him, her smile faltering. She laughs softly, furrowing her eyebrows in an ‘are you serious?’ expression, but he just nods to the helmet “I’m serious, go on.”

“I…” she looks down at it, his call sign yellow and bright staring back at her, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, here,” he picks the helmet from her hands, “I’ll help you. Pull your hair up in a low bun.” she blinks up at him but does as he says, pulling the brown tresses up so the bun would stay low on her nape. “There you go, now,” he lifts the helmet up to her head, not being able to contain his laughter when she follows the movement with her eyes, uncertainty all over her green irises, “Bea, it’s fine. Just relax.”

“It’s easy for you to say.” it's a weak chuckle that comes out of her, but she lets him slide the helmet on her head. It was already heavy in her hands, clearly meant to protect the pilot after all, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She blinks up at him with a smile, feeling him fix it for a few more seconds then pulling his hands back.

Rooster couldn’t help the grin on his face when he stepped back to have a better look, the helmet wasn’t too big so it stayed in place as she touched it. His stomach fluttered with the same butterflies when they had their first date, adoring her just by existing and being there.

This whole ordeal was risky, but Mav was anything but reliable. The older man just told him to go for it and he’d deal with everything else later. “You look good. How is it? Uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s fine.” she replies, “Your voice is just a bit muffled though.” she looks around a bit once she drops the visor down, not being able to stop herself from doing so, “Woah, this is so cool.”

“Now you know how I feel most of the time.” he says, following her line of vision as she continues turning around with the visor down.

“You know something I never asked you?’ she begins, only the lower part of her face showing as she gestures in his direction, “Why is your callsign Rooster?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his hair as he leans against his locker with his shoulder, “It’s because I wait for the right moment during a fight, just like a rooster does to the sun.” he explains, still looking at her with a smile on his face.

“Ooohh,” she nods, then flips the visor back up to expose her big eyes looking back at him, “I don’t know why I thought it was because you like waking up early. I guess it made sense in my head.” She made no other movements to remove the helmet, so he didn’t do anything either.

She then opened her mouth to speak,but her face got bright tomato red so she just looked down at her feet instead, ignoring his confused look. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” she said quickly, pulling the helmet off her head and giving it back to him with her face still red. She tried to comb her hair down as she pulled it out of the bun, still not meeting his eyes, “Just…thinking…”

“Thinking, huh?” he repeats, placing the helmet back into his locker, “What could you be thinking that made your face turn so red?” In response she inhaled sharply with her cheeks turning bright crimson, “Ohh, Bea, were you thinking something naughty? Because if you were, I want to know.”

“I…it was just…something that popped up, nothing more.” she replied, playing with the ends of her flannel sleeves, thinking that the floor was more interesting than the thought that the reason Rooster got his callsign was anything but innocent. She hated her brain sometimes. He didn’t have to know that!

But boy did he want to know what she was thinking about, closing his locker to step closer to her fidgeting form before tilting her chin up, “I promise not to tell anyone.” he teases, enjoying her indignant little huff as she looks back down to the ground, “...oh,fine, don’t tell me. I guess I’ll have to yank it out of you when we leave.” she knew he meant in the less than Christian way too, making her face flame up even more, “But, come on, there’s something else I want to show you.”

She blinks up at him, then takes his hand as he leads them out of the locker room and out another door. She just looks around the darkened hallways in amazement, the roar of the ocean seeming louder in such a silent area like this, their footsteps being the only thing she could hear besides the sea hitting the base.

He stops in front of her when they reach the end of the large hallway, before he opened a door she had no idea it was there. He steps in first, looking back at her so she could come inside as well, smiling when her eyes focused at the large silhouette. “Roos, is this–”

“Sure is.”

His fighter jet, which was under maintenance because of the last mission, stood proudly in the middle of the empty room. Beatrice tilted her head up, that thing was so massive she felt her vertebrae hurt from looking up for so long. There is a sliver of moonlight that shines through one of the high windows, illuminating the plane for her eyes to see, “Wow…” she hovered her hands on the side of it, looking back at Rooster, “Can I…? Touch it?”

“Go ahead.” he says, approaching her slowly, “I’m sure the plane won’t mind it.”

Beatrice looks up to the jet again, pressing her palm to the curved metal with her eyes wide. She had never gotten so close to something like this, running her hand over the surface, feeling where the iron was melded together then touching the underside of the wing with her fingertips. “I can’t believe you control this.” she whispers, “It’s—it’s huge.”

Rooster walked up by her side, his own hand following the same path her hand did before patting the metal fondly, “Yeah, it sure is a big asshole this one.” Bea looks up at him with a questioning gaze, “But it can be managed, with enough care and training.”

“Still, it’s amazing that you guys do this.” she replies, almost petting the side of the plane as if it was a dog, “I don’t think I could ever do it.”

“I think you’d be good.” she makes a disbelieved sound, “I mean, you are smart, you pay attention to your surroundings, you’d be a good pilot.”

“I’d be a pilot with severe anxiety Roos,” she laughs, “But thanks, I’m honored you think I could ever fly something like this.”

“You flew your way into my heart, gorgeous.” he says smoothly, leaning down to press a kiss to her warm cheek, “Like the angel you are.” Angel? That 's new. She dragged her eyes up to meet his, about to ask him where that came from but he beat her to it. ‘That’d be your callsign too. Because you can’t be from this world.”

Beatrice’s mouth drops open and she laughs quietly, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth in fear someone could hear her, “I thought I was a fairy?” she says softly, looking at him from the corner of her eye, “You always call me that.”

“Angel works just as fine. I can come up with more if you want to.”

Bea looks down at her feet with a shy smile, “I wouldn’t mind.” is her whispered response.

Bradley chuckles, dropping his hand from touching the plane to step back, holding her hand in his, “Come on, we better go now.” He isn't in a hurry, he just comments as if he’s telling her about the weather. Beatrice nods, letting him guide her all the way through again.

There’s a figure wandering by in the distance and she freezes, “Roos,” she calls quietly, but he doesn’t stop, even if she drags her own feet back hoping they could hide somewhere. The figure suddenly brings up a flashlight, shining right in their faces and Beatrice couldn’t help but scream and hide herself behind Rooster.

They were caught. Oh no, oh no! He’d lose everything he worked for, he–

“Jesus, Mav,” comes Rooster’s voice above her, one of his hands shielding his squinting eyes, “You don’t have fucking blind me?”

Mav? Pete?

The older pilot flicks the lantern off, smirking at the two, “Just wanted to check your reflexes.” he tilts his head, seeing Beatrice’s body slowly creeping out from behind Rooster, “Hi, Beatrice.”

“H-Hi Mav.”

Maverick walks back to the gate that immediately unlocks and he pulls it back enough for them to walk out of the base, him right behind. Beatrice notices that behind Rooster’s Bronco there’s a bike she hadn’t noticed before, a bike that belongs to no one other than Pete Mitchell, “I hope you kids had fun,” Pete says, waiting for the gates to click and lock, sliding something in his back pocket, “As short as it was.”

Beatrice just looks at him with wide eyes, then turns her head to Bradley who is looking right down at her, “We did,” her boyfriend replies, “But we better go now. Thanks again,Mav.” She watches as Rooster engulfs Maverick in a hug, the older man clapping the other pilot in the back in a fatherly embrace. Beatrice is still trying to understand what happened but she too hugs Maverick in thanks, hurriedly entering the truck behind Rooster.

Maverick stands in front of the Bronco when the lights come up, squinting in surprise but throwing out a ‘fair enough’ as he looks at the two. He salutes them off, his body getting smaller and smaller as Rooster reverses the car off and back into the road. Beatrice couldn’t help but look behind herself to the base once they were far enough, ‘“Is Mav going to be okay?”

“Yeah, you’d be surprised at the type of shit he pulled over the years.” her boyfriend chuckles, “This was child’s play.” she hums, falling back to her seat and trying to hold back a yawn, “Someone is tired.”

“A little,” she smiles, the fatigue finally keeping up with her after getting so nervous while sneaking inside, “But I had fun.”

“Yeah?”

“I always have fun with you.”

Rooster exhales something, smiling cutely as he drives the car one handedly, using the other hand to support his weight against the window sill and cover the lower part of his face. He’s shaking his head diminutively, but she could see his cheeks were flexed in a grin. He laughed breathlessly, the lights outside giving him a yellowish orange glow but not enough to show how his own cheeks seemed to darken over her words.

“I am,” he begins once he drops the hand from his face, “Going to kiss you so much once we get to your house.”

Beatrice giggled, her body relaxing on the drive back, “I can’t wait.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

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summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?” You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sm #not sfw #gojo smut #mae.drabble #mae.writing

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #obey me Diavolo #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

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neon-moon-beam · 3 years ago

Text

While looking up other info about Legends: Arceus, I came across a thread where people were saying Ingo wouldn’t go back because he was “too necessary” with the Training Grounds and also because he “wouldn’t want to leave his friends in Hisui.”

What follows are my opinions regarding this, and potentially what could happen. (You don’t have to agree.)

Edit: I should have mentioned it but I'm not really interested in rebuff, or things like headcanons, etc. My primary goal here is to provide reassurance to people who are upset over being left hanging by the way the game currently is, as well as people who are tired of the angst. If you have a differening opinion, please make your own post, and please respect my wishes.

Want more reassurance things will work out? I compiled observations about Pokemon as a whole, as well as in-game evidence here, as well as something I noticed about PokeMas here.

Possible spoilers ahead.

bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you.

First of all, Ingo isn’t especially bonding with anyone, from what we can tell. How much time he spent at the Pearl Clan’s Settlement is up for debate, as he’s only mentioned in passing by one NPC there (the rest seem to focus on Irida and Palina). He doesn’t even stay with Sneasler, choosing to relocate to the Training Grounds in Jubilife as soon as he assists the player. He never refers to Sneasler as “My Lady” the way other wardens do for their Nobles, doesn’t talk about “almighty Sinnoh” at all, etc. He doesn’t appear in the image at the end of the credits of the Harmony Festival, which could indicate a few things, namely that he didn’t go (which would be odd considering his personality isn’t reclusive as well as he’d know it would be important for all the wardens to be at an event designed to more or less start unifying the Diamond and Pearl Clans, as well as Hisui as a whole), or a hint that canonically he has or will go home, but just about every other major NPC was shown there. Irida and Kamado only talk to the player about him (in his presence) when they want the player to interact with him. Irida knows you need Sneasler’s help and hopes maybe you can help him remember things. Ingo has reported to Kamado before regarding the frenzied Nobles, and in the most recent update, Kamado wants you to do the various activities at the Training Grounds designed by Ingo. Nobody ever mentions anything too personal about him, just that he’s great with battling. The NPC in the Pearl Clan Settlement wonders where he came from (after the Disaster Looming mission, before he just mentions how good Ingo is with Pokemon), and Irida and Volo mention his memory loss.

Other than that, Ingo stands there, alone. If anything, his only friendships, or relationships that are more than acquaintanceships or necessary interactions are with the player character and his own Pokemon. The player character/Dawn/Lucas seems to be the only person Ingo told some personal things to, or at the very least, talked about what he barely remembers. If Ingo realizes Dawn/Lucas is from the same era as him, then there isn’t much issue with going back since his closest friend in Hisui isn’t being left behind. Whether or not he can bring his Pokemon is up for debate and both leaving and bringing them seem likely.

Pokemon is also a series where people and Pokemon do part ways sometimes, depending on the situation and what’s best for the people and Pokemon involved, as evidenced in several games. It may or may not be best for them to return with Ingo.

He can call various trainers for you to battle, but how much does he interact with them other than possibly training them? Kamado is also interested in having people trained in Pokemon battles, and it’s clear the concept is finally catching on in Hisui (some NPCs mention earlier in-game that battling already exists in other regions). But that doesn’t mean Ingo has to stay in Hisui to train everyone for the rest of his life. Last night I found this dialogue:

Zisu is the one who really runs the Training Grounds and is the Captain of the Security Corps. Ingo is likely training her, and given her title, she was obviously capable of battling, if not the most capable perhaps other than Kamado and Beni, before Ingo showed up. She’s the one who wants to build a dojo, not Ingo, and wouldn’t it make sense that if Ingo is teaching all these people, someone could take over for him once he leaves? And if not Zisu, it could be anyone else he’s trained enough, maybe even someone who could be introduced in a DLC?

That’s what I’m hoping this dialogue is hinting at; that someone else will eventually take over for Ingo, allowing him to return to his proper time and place.

Ingo also remembers Chandelure and Emmet, vaguely. Usually characters in Pokemon with amnesia who are not intended to return don’t remember anything, and as seen with Anabel, who so many people compare Ingo to, she was allowed to keep her original Pokemon. Ingo is the opposite; the memories are there, just inaccessible for the most part, and he doesn’t have his Pokemon. He remembers someone who “looked like” him. Later he states he doesn’t know if he had any family, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable for him to be wondering if the man he remembers is at least a relative considering the resemblance. And if he were given the chance to return to where he came from, wouldn’t he take it? And wouldn’t those around him want him to? Ultimately, it would be sad for everyone to say goodbye to Ingo and Dawn/Lucas, but good friends, heck, just good people, would want them to return to their homes and potential families and friends. They may always have a home in Hisui, but returning home and recovering their memories about who they were, reuniting with family and friends, etc should be more important than staying in the past to solve everyone’s problems (Dawn/Lucas) or being the only person to train everyone else.

Also, saying he wouldn’t want to leave friends in Hisui, or is necessary to Hisui ignores some very big details:

He is absolutely necessary to the Battle Subway. It would be a very bad move to revisit Unova and go “Oopsies! Ingo got left in Hisui so it’s just Emmet/no more Battle Subway!” The only bigger way to mess up Unova for fans, at least in Japan, would be to remove N (see this post by @1863-project for info on Submas’ popularity).

#submas #ingo #ingo pokemon #warden ingo #pokemon legends spoilers

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

Text

“You lie to your best friend/crush that you have an OnlyFans just to see their reaction”

Ft. Sugawara; Nishinoya; Tsukishima; Oikawa; Kenma

Pt. 2

A/N: My bias is so obvious here LOL

KARASUNO

↳ Sugawara

➣ You are over at his house, the two of you idly watching a sitcom while browsing your phones and chatting in between; it’s comfortable, as times with Sugawara usually are.

➣ Every time Suga leans in to show you a funny meme on his phone or throws his head back in laughter at a joke from the show, you find your heart skipping a beat.

➣ He is beautiful, basically an angel in your eyes, but he is also your best friend and you don’t think he has any interest in you like that. Not in the way you do.

➣ That’s how you get the idea to test his feelings.

➣ Being the troublemaker you are (how else would you and Suga get along so well?) you decide to shake things up by casually mentioning you’re interested in starting an OnlyFans and asking if he thinks its a good idea.

➣ You expect either of two reactions: either he’ll be as supportive as usual, possibly advising you to be cautious with strangers online like the mother hen he is, proving he only sees you as a friend—or he’ll tell you not to, possible evidence that likes you.

➣ The response you receive is not quite what you were expecting...

➣ Once the words leave your lips his head immediately whips around in your direction, light brown eyes looking at you with a serious expression on his face, something you’d never really seen before. It makes you uncomfortable and you begin to regret all of your life decisions.

➣ Suddenly though, he is leaning into you, his arms coming up to trap you against the couch as you try to back away. Your eyes are as wide as saucers and face completely flushed as he continues to stare you down before speaking.

➣ “Even though I’m your best friend, I’m still a man, you know. You’re being awfully cruel right now.”

➣ You audibly gulp, suddenly feeling light-headed but he keeps speaking, close enough that you can feel his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

➣ “Asking me to watch the person I like show off in front of thousands of other men? Even I have my limits.”

➣ And that marks the day of you and Sugawara’s first kiss. ♡

↳ Nishinoya

➣ Your best friend, Nishinoya Yuu, is notoriously unabashed with his affections.

➣ The two of you have an interesting relationship—Noya has no qualms with expressing how pretty he thinks you are, borderline flirting with you at times, and you frequently return the favor.

➣ But you don’t take any of it seriously, of course, regardless of how much you secretly wish it were real. Everyone at Karasuno knows about Noya’s undying dedication to the volleyball club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, and he confesses his love to her at least twice a day.

➣ Unbeknownst to you those professions became less and less frequent after he met you and now most of Karasuno thinks the two of you are basically dating

➣ The two of you are at the mall, a frequent hang out place where Noya can look at volleyball gear and you can browse manga at the bookstore, when you get the idea to prank your friend.

➣ “Hey, Noya? I’ve been thinking about finding a way to make more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so I decided to make an OnlyFans—I already have a few subscribers.”

➣ Nishinoya nearly trips and falls flat on his face. You would have laughed if it weren’t for how he immediately grabs at your shoulders, staring at you with a mix of anger and fear.

➣ “Absolutely not! No one should be allowed to see your beautiful body like that but me!”

➣ You immediately fluster at his loud declaration, acutely aware of how other customers in the mall are giving the two of your strange looks as they walk by.

➣ “B-but Noya, we aren’t even dating—”

➣ “Then let’s start dating!”

➣ And what are you gonna do? Say no?

↳ Tsukishima

➣ Being friends with Tsukishima could be frustrating at times—a sentiment you and Yamaguchi frequently discuss when the blond isn’t around.

➣ Tsukishima likes to think most things are beneath him and he’s too cool to find enjoyment in activities most other friends enjoy, ranging from mini golf to video games. The man seems content to waste his life away studying and listening to music if it weren’t for you and Yamaguchi forcing him out of his room.

➣ Naturally, something like a prank war would be something Tsukishima would want no part of—not that that has ever stopped you.

➣ Usually, your pranks are failures. Either Tsukishima easily figures out what you’re doing before it can happen or he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction, chastising you for wasting your time pulling pranks when you have a failing grade in mathematics you’ll later beg him to help you study for.

➣ He still helps you though, he’s whipped

➣ Your newest prank however, you feel exceptionally confident in. Not only is it simple to pull off, only relying on your acting kills, but it also might answer your curiosity on whether you have a chance in getting your dearest Tsukki to see you as more than just a friend.

➣ The day you decide to do it the three of you are hanging out in Tsukishima’s bedroom as usual, you working on the math homework Tsukishima forced you to study while he reads a book and Yamaguchi sits in the corner reading a book.

➣ You had already discussed your plans with Yama beforehand, to which his expression looked suspiciously devious, like he knew something you didn’t know, as he proclaimed his support.

➣ You hear Tsukishima turning a page and decide to speak up.

➣ “Hey, Tsukki, have you heard of OnlyFans?”

➣ You hold back a snicker as you see Tsukishima visibly tense, his eyes widening behind his glasses for a moment before he relaxes. From the corner of your eyes you can see Yamaguchi smirking behind his comic, watching the blond closely.

➣ “...yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Tsukishima simply replies.

➣ “I’ve been thinking about making more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so my friend suggested it. She said I could make over ten thousand yen a month.”

➣ “I think only the really attractive ones make that much.”

➣ You gasp, thoroughly offended, and Yamaguchi looks mildly annoyed by his friend’s response, already opening his mouth to chastise him for being so mean—but before he can say anything, Tsukishima is speaking again, still looking down at the book in his lap.

➣ “Don’t do it though.”

➣ “Why not?” You pout, refusing to look up at him when you speak.

➣ “...I don’t want the person I like to do those types of things.”

➣ You nearly choke on your own saliva, head darting up to stare at him in disbelief. Yamaguchi, for some reason, only smiles softly, looking unsurprised by the admission.

➣ “W-what? You...like me?”

➣ “Oi, shouldn’t you be studying? One more F and you’re gonna flunk out of the class, dummy.”

➣ You’re slightly disappointed by the change of subject but when you notice the soft pink on Tsukishima’s cheeks you can’t help but to smile the whole time you finish your homework.

AOBA JOUSAI

↳ Oikawa

➣ Oikawa is a busy guy.

➣ You were well aware of that before the two of you happened to be paired up for an assignment and got to know each other, eventually becoming close friends.

➣ Between volleyball practices, tournaments, magazine interviews, and appeasing a passionate fan club, Oikawa rarely has time for himself, let alone another person.

➣ Despite all of that, you could tell he always made sure to spend time with you, dedicating a few weekends a month to hanging out, just the two of you, and constantly texting you in the times the two of you couldn’t physically be together.

➣ From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost like the two of you were dating.

➣ But alas, you know the sad reality is that Oikawa is most certainly not your boyfriend and you have no idea if he has any interest in your like that…

➣ ...Which is why you decide to try to make him jealous one day to push him towards confessing his feelings, if they exist.

➣ The two of you are at a café, sipping lattes and gossiping about other students when you bring it up.

➣ “Y’know...I’ve been thinking of making an OnlyFans.”

➣ To your surprise, Oikawa’s eyes seem to light up, his lips curving into a smile of excitement.

➣ “Wow, really? Maybe I should make one too!”

➣ Oikawa immediately pulls out his cell phone and the color drains from your face as you realize your plan has completely backfired.

➣ “My fans are going to love this—hey do you think we can do a collab? The two of us in one pic would make us top creators for sure.”

➣ You can only nod numbly with a fake smile at Oikawa’s enthusiasm.

➣ Oh god, you’ve created a monster…

NEKOMA

↳ Kozume

➣ Unless you’re Kuroo, becoming friends with Kenma is a nearly impossible feat. Actually making him want to spend time with you alone, even more so.

➣ But somehow, you managed to work your way into Kenma’s tightly knit social circle more like a two point line segment of him and Kuroo and your evenings after his volleyball practice are usually spent in one of your bedrooms, playing Splatoon and Animal Crossing until your Switches die or your parents force you to come home for dinner—whichever comes first.

➣ You love spending time with Kenma, his quiet presence somehow making you feel comfortable—but over time those feelings of ease have shifted into something more akin to nervousness and excitement as you’ve come to develop a crush on the setter.

➣ Every moment with him, watching the small smiles tug at his lips when he wins a match or his cute, frustrated pout when he can’t figure out how to defeat a boss makes your heart flutter and it’s becoming more and more painful to idly sit by without expressing your feelings.

➣ A direct confession, especially to a boy with nearly 0 social skills, is scary, so you want to be sure your feelings are returned before you even attempt to share them.

➣ Thus, you’ve decided to take Kuroo’s advice.

➣ “Push him into a corner. Kenma will only act when he thinks he has to.”

➣ You take a deep breath to steel your nerves before you speak, eying him sneakily from behind your Switch.

➣ “Gamer girls and boys are kind of trendy these days; I’m thinking about starting an OnlyFans to make money to buy more games.”

➣ The only visible response you receive is a slow blink as Kenma continues to play his game, fingers tapping furiously on the keys.

➣ “Ah...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

➣ “Why not?”

➣ There are a few moments of silence between you two, the room only filled with the SFX of your games as Kenma seems to finish his round. You recognize the victory music as Kenma pauses to finally raise his gaze to meet your own.

➣ “It's your body so I can’t tell you what to do but...I would feel really jealous of all your subscribers.”

➣ And just like that, Kenma returns his attention to the video game, unpausing and starting a new match, blissfully unaware of you struggling to calm your racing heart and flushed cheeks.

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skiller0dani · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

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rcksmith · 3 years ago

Text

Sun — Kaz Brekker

Resume: Feelings are destabilizing things.

A/N: This story is not set in the books of Six Crows, I also changed the age of the characters to twenty-something because the idea of writing something about a child makes me uncomfortable. All my stories, of any characters, are with them being of up age. Just like many fanfics out there in the teen series.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Mention of fight, swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, mention of kiss, mention of desire, desire, mention of death, but so fucking fluff.

Word count: 3k.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There were few things in life that he was absolutely sure of. Things that were immutable, solid, unshakable. That even the strongest of winds would not be able to shake the structure. A life built on the basis of an equation of chaos, suffering, death and despair generated a result where it was necessary to be sure of something. And one of those certainties was the ability of himself, of his instincts, of his intelligence, the notion that he himself was a person capable of resolving any type of situation with iron fists. The second was the certainty of the loyalty of his crows, of the two people who, he knew, would never turn their backs on him.

And the third... the third was that when Kaz Brekker first laid eyes on you, he was sure that you would divide his life between a before and an after.

It was a lepid, ferocious feeling that swept the body of The Bastard of the Barrel from the top of his head to the tip of his polished boots. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat, a shiver as if receiving a midnight sigh at the back of the neck. There was a quick sensation of burning in the heat of an icy fire, but his composure did not flinch a single millimeter. He had learned to keep it in all situations, trained with steel fists.

Kaz looked at you deeply, from the top of your hair to the tip of your feet, trying to find answers as to why you had triggered such disturbing sensations with a simple and ridiculous exchange of looks. But he found no answers. He found neither after a day, nor after a week, damn it, he did not find nor after a month!

You had joined the infamous trio because they needed a fighting expert, someone who could defeat a good number of men on her own without needing backup, which would make their bigger and more complex robberies much easier. And when they found you, a girl who had been the subject for a experiment to create super soldiers, your ability to fight, physical endurance, and your sense of loyalty, made you perfect for the job.

But none of that explained why, whenever the stormy blue eyes met yours, he felt like he was ricochet by living eels. It was exasperating, frustrating on so many levels that it was difficult to put into words. Kaz could not expose this misfortune to his two closest people, first because his pride in admitting a disturbance in his subtly balanced world was too great, and second that... even if he considered said that, he would not know how to name those feelings for express what he were feeling.

How would Jesper and Inej understand something that even he did not understand?

Kaz Brekker had a firm and calm demeanor, an implacably logical mind and a way of narrowing his eyes that ensured that his orders were carried out with great efficiency, all according to the moment he wished. Then, just as he did to get rid of any disturbance, he buried those sensations so deeply until, like his overwhelming pains and traumas, they stopped tormenting him.

He thought that, like his flawless and cunning plans, it would have the same effect. That his nerves could get back to normal and he wouldn't have to deal with the feeling that feel hiself whit cold and hot at the same time whenever he laid eyes on you.

But, if it was true that the practice makes perfect, this rule has not been applied in this situation.

The deeper he buried those beginnings of thats sensations, more of them began to flourish, roaring harder, as a constant reminder that he was not that rock of stoicity and absence of feelings that he liked to think he was. It seemed that, just as light existed to exorcise the darkness, you existed to show that he still had a beating heart. Hot blood still coursing through the veins.

It has not helped anything in his cause that, over time, Inej and Jesper have become attache to you. Jesper even more. But if Kaz put aside his frustration and irritation for a second, he would know that he couldn't to blame them. In fact, there was no way to blame every person who approached you, delighted.

Jesper once described you as "the soul of the party", and Inej said that you had fire in your soul. Kaz would not have been able to think of better definitions to put into words what you were. There was thing about the way you laughed, the way you talked, the way your tilting your head and your so easy smile. There was a thing about you. That transformed you into the solar system and people orbited in your gravity like planets.

You had a way with people, Kaz really thought it was a gift, a talent. You were always laughing, smiling, playing with people and making them so comfortable in your presence that, once, Kaz saw a trader, who are in a the middle of a refused to close a contract with Kaz, just melt and give up because of the smile you gave to him.

Nothing from you has been forced, malicious, shrewd or cunning. You really smiled, you really laughed, as if you were...happy. Purely happy. And, in a second of insanity, Kaz wondered if that happiness was possible. If it was possible for him to feel something like this.

But, just as Brekker took his soul close from you as much as he could to avoid any emotion, Jesper did the exact opposite. Very quickly, just like Kaz and Inej are, the two of you became a pair of inseparable friends. Were always together.

Perhaps it was because you two were overwhelmingly alike: Always in the eye of danger, addicted to adrenaline, purely outgoing and liked a good fun. Or maybe it was because, like everyone around you, Jesper felt drawn closer to your warm, joyful and comforting aura.

But whatever it was, the timbre of your laughter followed by Jesper's became a sound as natural as the whistling of the wind. And it didn't take long for you two to become partners in thefts and plans.

However, it didn't take long too for the reactions Kaz had about the influence of your presence to become...louder.

If Kaz Brekker closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, he could still remember and feel that night perfectly as if it were yesterday:

The plan was succinct: They would have to go through guards, high walls and locks to enter a merchant's residence, open the safe, pick up the jewels and leave. Twenty minutes was the time limit to complete that sequence.

Everyone was assigned to one thing: Kaz would turn off a fabricated security system from a Grisha, Inej would sneak into the shadows to the safe and pick up the jewels, and Jesper and you would be responsible for dealing with the various guards. Everyone would have to meet in the corridor that led to the back exit.

Kaz did not think that that so ridiculous and simple plan it could go wrong. Or that someone could make a slip. To him, it seemed as easy as sneaking into a yacht boat. However, there he was, next to Inej who carried the jewelery bag in her hand, both of them standing in that dimly lit corridor, waiting for you and Jesper to appear.

"It's been three minutes!" Inej pointed, as if Kaz didn't already know that.

Her intonation was concerned, apprehensive, with a certain fear. Kaz thought about saying something, but as soon as his mouth opened to say anything, he heard...

Steps. Hurried steps of two people. No, actually, the two people were running.

Suddenly, you and Jesper burst into the corridor, running as if their lives depended on it. Inej and Kaz would have been worried if it weren't for the bastard and peraltas smiles that stretched across faces of you two, stretching their cheeks.

Then Kaz noticed the reason for the delay. You two carried a giant picture under your left arms. Jesper carried the front end and you the back end, like two children who made a mischief and was running from their mother. True accomplices.

Kaz's jaw opened, his eyes widened slightly and roamed the frame with agitated iris, while Inej was totally baffled.

"C'mon, C'mon!" You exclaimed with laughter in your voice, Jesper and you never stopped running.

As soon all left and took shelter in the safety and peace of the Crow Club closed in that night, Jesper and you fell on the couch, laughing and panting.

"What was that?!” But Kaz was exasperated "Do you both know how much risked the plan?!"

"It was only three minutes, Boss." Jesper defended himself.

"It..." That's when Kaz looked at the painting responsible for all the commotion and fuss.

It was a painting, a landscape by Ravka. The fold. In oil on parchment. A DeKappel. That was worth at least ten thousand Kruges.

“You commented that you needed a new painting for your office.” Your voice took Kaz out of the admiration on the painting, and Jesper and Inej looked at you as if they had discovered that now too.

Jesper and Inej thought it was just for the money...

Kaz looked up into your eyes, and the cold, warm shiver spreading across his chest and snaking to his bones. As it always did the moment yours eyes meeting.

He remembered commenting in passing, in a very vague and obtuse way, that he wanted a new painting in the office. Until that moment, Brekker didn't think you paying attention to what he had to say. Not when it wasn't about a job or plan.

But there you were, proving that you had heard. And that you cared.

His breath caught for a second, the icy chill turned to something warmer, like the first sparks of fire in a fireplace. The first flames that precede the fire.

After that, Kaz began to pay more attention, unconsciously, to what you said. And, consequently, he started paying more attention to you. It had been gradual, sneaky as a snake, imperceptible so he wouldn't be able to root it out. As if the universe, destiny or divines, introduced, grain by grain, a small summer in a landscape frozen by winter.

It all started with your comment about liking it sweeter than salty, that dry wine left you with a headache and that you preferred rum. He evolved to notice how your tone of voice got sweeter when you talked to children or animals, and more serious when it came to the safety of the three crows. And suddenly, as if Kaz already knew this as he knew the sky was blue, he knew how to say how your eyes sparkled when you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin.

In that second, looking at you from the other side of the agitated club that turned into a celebration with dance and music, the world became suspended for a moment. The music became just an echoing, blurry noise, the images turned to slow motion and the air seemed to change in pitch. You, who laughed and speen round in Jesper's arms amid so many people who did the same thing, were the only one who starred as the main attraction.

In that minute, when the breath was slow and lyrical, and the air had a beauty tone, Kaz's eyes caught the exact moment when a beam of sunlight hit your face, shining on your skin as if you were one pirate tropical treasure. In a burst, a second of insanity, like a violin string that burst at the apice of the song, he felt that there was nothing else in the world worth seeing that was not you.

It was a scary, terrifying discovery. Something that made him freeze from head to toe, and all the speed in the world came back so fast that Kaz felt dizzy. He pressed his covered hand to the crow's beak of his cane, as if he needed a reminder of reality. Something that would wake him up from those hellish sensations.

- -

The months passed after that fateful afternoon. Kaz avoided staying close to you any longer than necessary and would strongly and vigorously scold every change of tone within himself whenever he saw you.

He didn't know what those sensations meant, but he also didn't want to find out. He liked challenges and responsibilities, but being around you was proving to be more than he could take. Your presence ignited him in a cold and warm fire, promising a future full of unfulfilled infinite wills. From pain, impotence and doomed to failure. Any feeling for you would be more of a punishment than anything else. The only solution was to get it out of your head.

Of course, he had been trying to do just that since he met you.

But again, the universe did not seem to want to give up from he. Not so easily.

Kaz had to take you along to make a deal with a merchant who was more impassable than a rock. Kaz had tried to negotiate with him before (since he couldn't take the strength or rob what he wanted) and all his efforts were in vain. So, he appealed for the last weapon. The person who always had a natural gift whit other people and always had a real smile that made anybody feel like... as if happiness really existed.

You.

"I'm glad it's hot" You commented, while walking next to Kaz "I don’t like the cold."

How did he know that you would say just that? That was so you. Warm, sweet and cozy things were the embodiment of what you were. It was logical that you preferred the heat. So different from him that, instead of you, enjoyed the cold. Liked the rains and storms, relaxed with the moonlight and felt less tense with the midnight winter breeze.

Kaz understood your personality as he understood the very lines of his hands. You were wild, bordering on reckless, you acted before thinking and you always loved anything that aroused adrenaline. You ran like no one else, jumped from one horse's cell to another, decided to catch the largest number of targets just because you wanted the thrill of fighting five against one. Anything calm, serene and peaceful stirred your restless personality. And Kaz knew exactly your level of restlessness from the way your leg was constantly jumping when you had to sit still for more than a few minutes.

You were a free spirit, forged in the heart of the sun and in the heat of summer. While he was limited by his own body and built in the heart of winter and frozen by the cold of the sea. Anything between you was doomed to fail even before you two met. Kaz Brekker knew this very well.

“He is late.” You grunted, your leg was already starting to jumping when you two spent a measly ten minutes waiting for the man.

You looked back and seemed to find it interesting, because Kaz saw your eyes shine.

"Let's go there?" You pointed, and Kaz had to turn around to see that you were referring to a coffee shop.

Crowded with sweets in the window for a change. Why was he not surprised?

“No.” He turned forward again, both hands on the cane.

"So I go over there and come back quickly."

“Y/n" he just said in a warning tone, giving you a scolding look.

You mumbled something he didn't identify, turned around again and did your best to be quiet. Five minutes passed before that merchant arrived, and Kaz can perfectly follow the change in his posture, change in the man eyes when you greeted him with that summer voice and sunny smile.

It was so vibrant, so vivid that, for a second, Kaz found himself slightly swayed by all the brilliance you emanated. Pulled towards your like an animal needing the warmth of the sun.

It didn't take much for the man to sign and agree with everything Kaz said and imposed. In fact, he suspected that if he had asked him to give him his bank password, the man would have been happy to do so.

"Can we go in the coffee shop now?” You commented as soon as the man left, still turning around to look at you as much as possible.

Kaz restrained the glaring urge to roll his eyes, but he had just landed a very lucrative business just and exclusively because you agreed to help. Even though you didn't gain anything from it. So, if he had to go with you to a goddamn coffee shop so he wouldn't feel like a petty profiteer, he would go to the goddamn coffee shop.

Kaz just walked towards the place, and the wide, summery smile you gave may have he missed a few heartbeats.

Stop it!

Once inside the damn store, you scanned the menu that hung on the wall.

“I never took this one.” You commented, pointing to what appeared to be a very sweet mix of drink. Something that involved ice cream and chocolate with something else.

It was not the kind of comment that had an answer, and Kaz was still engaged in the mission to stay away from you. But he thought that statement was just the reason why you wouldn't order that drink. But, just as you always threw any worldview Kaz had in the latrine, you asked for just that. His eyes were bloodshot with astonishment.

“Why are you going to order something you don't know if you like it?” He asked as soon as you got the drink and paid for it.

"How am I supposed to know if something is good if I never try it?” You said casually, both of you going out of the store. “Wanna try out?”

You held out for he the plastic cup that was covered by a lid that had a hole in the middle, where a fat, transparent straw came out. Kaz looked at you as if you had created a second head.

“Come on, you'll never know if you like it if you don't taste it.” The two of you stopped, you still holding the glass gently towards his mouth.

“No.” Kaz shook his head.

“Come ooon.” You insisted, a petulant and amusing smile plastered on your face.

"No."

You shook the glass, holding it out once more. This time, Kaz gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"You're not going to stop insisting until I take this thing, are you?"

You laughed, with a triumphant and friendly smile “I'm glad you know me so well”

Kaz rolled his eyes, snatching the glass from your hand and bringing the hellish straw to his mouth. Hell, he felt so stupid pulling that stupid drink through that straw. As soon as the sweet liquid invaded his tongue, an explosion of flavors flooded his palate, causing him to remain unresponsive for a moment.

"You liked it!" But just as he unveiled all of your lookes, you knew how to unveil all of his.

Kaz handed you the glass. “Absurdly sweet."

"You liked that I know."

You joked and, for a second, you had aroused he a desire to smile. A succinct curve in lips. With your sunny smiles and summer expressions, you looked like you were out of an enchanted forest inhabited by mystical creatures. Sun nymphs. Maybe Kaz would even have let himself go lightly if, when you took the glass back, your lips had not wrapped around the tip of the straw.

Exactly where his mouth was a second ago.

He pulse quickened so fast that it made the blood burn in his veins. It was impossible not to look down at delicate mouth, the subtle but destabilizing curvature in the center of your lower lip. Suddenly, he was out of breath, his body numb and his heart stopped beating for a second before accelerating to an alarming level.

Everything became hot, stuffy. The world spun away, out of focus, out of existence, leading he on a waltz unlike anything Kaz had ever felt before.

Kaz Brekker was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty hands and scammer. Someone trapped by his own body and traumas, unable to allow himself to enjoy human contact. But, hell, he was still a man. And in that moment, in that insane moment, he wanted to pretend, even for a few seconds, that what he wanted was within his reach.

Kaz thought he understood the desire: an attraction. He thought he knew what lust was: a wish that people felt. He had seen countless examples on his bar counter, drunk and chattering about what it was like to want a woman, to long for her. He thought he understood.

And he found that he didn't understand anything.

The desire was a hot and feverish whirlwind that shivered he from head to toe, with dizzying speed, and dragged everything towards perdition, below any intellect, any rationality. Rationally, he shouldn't have thought you were even more beautiful. But he did. He shouldn't feel his breath catch, but he did.

He felt as if he were walking on a narrow suspended board. One misstep and it would be the end of it. Hiding his disturbing thoughts, Kaz looked away from you.

He was ruined for the rest of his life.

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