#if the italics weren’t enough to indicate

[milfdarthrevan]

Still taking jabs at Shakespeare, I see!

Actually, I checked out the quote, and at least the first one comes from Hamlet. So the gravediggers might be comic, but the play’s a tragedy.

Just a little meaningless fun fact that I doubt bears any relation to the story whatsoever. Anyways, back to Night Watch!

[classyrbf]

PARTY 4 U! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you see your ex at a party two years after a messy breakup, sparking conversation and reliving memories, you’re met with the harsh truth of reality

INFO...ex bf!gojo x fem!reader, reader and gojo are near their mid 20s, italics indicate readers thoughts and flashbacks, angst angst angst, messy relationship, messy breakup, kinda toxic?, talks of engagement, gojo is in a relationship, talks of arguments, reader is still in love with gojo, no happy ending, read at your own risk

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You shouldn’t even be here right now, standing in the corner of the crowded kitchen with a red solo cup in your hand filled with a cheap and bitter tasting alcohol. The pop music blares over the speakers, lightly tapping your foot to the beat while you glance at everyone around you. Couples, friends, random strangers who don’t have a care in the world and are having the best time of their life right now. You only came here for your friend, it was her graduation party, her way of celebrating for finally getting her degree. But you weren’t even sure where she was and truthfully you were starting to regret even coming as harsh as it sounds.

A deep sigh left your lips, placing the half empty cup of alcohol on the kitchen island, leaving it stranded. You pulled your phone from your back pocket, noticing the message from your boss asking if you could come in earlier tomorrow to help with deadlines. You bit the inside of your cheek, thumbs hovering over the screen, deciding if you should even respond. It seems like your life now is nothing but work, home, sleep, and repeat. You’ve gotten so used to it unfortunately that this party has thrown you out of your comfort zone, but you only dragged yourself here in hopes to have fun and get away from the depressing reality. No relationship, barely any friends, and not even a pet to come home to and hang out with. You were quite literally alone, cooped up in your studio apartment from beginning to end.

Eventually, you put your phone back in your pocket, leaving your boss on delivered. It wouldn’t be hard to at least try and have fun, talk with people, hell maybe even a one night stand will get you out of the funk you’ve been in. You needed some type of push, but who else to do it besides yourself? You glared at the abandoned cup on the counter, eyes narrowing, contemplating if you should down the disgusting liquid in one shot. Before you could even think, the rim of the cup was at your lips and the alcohol hit the back of your throat, leaving a burning sensation. You winced, letting out a small cough as you put the cup back down on the counter. “Gross,” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“She said there should be more drinks in the fridge,” a familiar voice spoke.

You looked up to see a man with long silky black hair, and snakebite piercings to complete his look. It was no one other Geto Suguru, your ex boyfriends best friend. Though you never really spoke much to him, you still knew him well enough that seeing him here brought some sense of comfort compared to the strangers you were around. But just as you were about to say hi, behind him is a taller man with snow white hair and gleaming blue eyes, walking in with that charming smile you remembered so clearly. Gojo Satoru.

Two years. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen his face. Since that night when he walked out on you, left you in street with tears on your face. Your heart sunk, all the memories from good to bad came crawling right to the front of your brain, disregarding anything else you were thinking of. You quickly looked away, trying to avoid any contact with him. Retreating back to your corner in the kitchen, you brought up your phone, sticking your face in it and mindlessly clicking and scrolling through any apps in hopes he wouldn’t look your way. Why was it so much hotter all of a sudden? And why did the walls feel like they were closing in? Leave. Leave. Leave. Please, leave. A shadow cast over you, the mixed scent of cologne and alcohol filling your nose.

“Y/n?” And it was like everything around suddenly stopped. The music. The people. Time. And as much as you wanted to walk away, you didn’t. You looked up at him and smiled. Such a fake smile.

“Hey! Gojo!” You cheerfully spoke, tucking your phone back in your pocket. You gulped, your hands clammy, wiping them against your jean skirt. “How’s it been?”

“It’s been great,” he chuckled. “How have you been? I didn’t expect to see you here.” He took a sip of his drink, taking place beside you.

“Oh, yeah. I know the party girl. Her graduation day, so she invited me! Thought it would be good to get out.” You shrugged, a fake smile still turned at the corner of your mouth.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he murmured, nodding his head.

The tension was thick and awkward and you wanted to walk away, maybe even scream at him for leaving you in the street that night, completely ghosting you and blocking you instead of being an actual man and breaking up with you.

“You look great, by the way. I like, uh, your outfit. It’s something different than what I’m used to.” He cheekily smiled.

Your brows furrowed. “And what exactly are you used to?” You asked, turning to face him.

“I don’t know!” He laughed. “I just remember your style being different. Always wearing jeans or something like that.” He pointed at your skirt.

“Well, it’s been two years since you’ve last seen me, I’d like to think I changed at least a little bit.” You looked down at your outfit, fixing your shirt. “You still look the same, though.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, wow! Do I?” He held his arms out. “I didn’t change at least a little bit?” He turned around, giving you a show of his outfit.

Hopefully as a person.

“Nope! Still the same old Gojo!” You shook your head, smiling. Why are you still standing here? Why are smiling? Why is the conversation going so well as if nothing happened?

“Awe, come on don’t be like that.” He playfully nudged you. “You know you don’t have to call me Gojo either, right? I mean we dated for two years, I’m not a stranger.” He smirked.

Yes, you are.

“Oh, I remember. I remember very clearly.” You nod, fidgeting with your hands.

“Remember our late night 7/11 runs? And when the slushee machine broke and it wouldn’t stop coming out? We literally ran out the door while the guy was yelling at us!” He laughed.

“Oh my gosh, yes! It went all over my shirt and my shoes were so sticky! That shit was the worst!” The memory played in your head like a movie, so clearly you could still hear you and Gojo’s childlike laughter as you ran out the store. But you also remember the days when he would act like you didn’t even exist. Not a single call or text from him for days.

“All I’m asking is for you to communicate with me! I get that you’re busy with school but a text would be fine! I never said you had to talk to me twenty four seven!” You shouted at him.

“Sometimes I don’t feel like texting anyone! Is that so damn hard to understand? Not everything is about you, y/n!” He furrowed his brows at you as if what you were saying was bewildering, like you had the most unhinged thought.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? And don’t even lie to me either because I see you with Geto out at parties, drinking and having fun all night! So I know it ain’t just about school. You’re just fucking ignoring me at this point. I’m so sick of fighting for attention from my own boyfriend!” You bite the inside of your cheek, stepping closer towards him.

“Then don’t.”

“We had the best times.” He let out a sigh, obvious he was reminiscing.

No we didn’t.

“Yeah, we did,” you quietly replied. There was a few seconds of silence between you two before gojo spoke up again.

He cleared his throat, his smile now faded, a serious look on his face like he was scared to say something. “I wanted to say sorry as well. That night, where I left you in the street, I should’ve never done that. I’m…I’m really fucking sorry. I was immature for blocking you and ending things that way. It was…I guess I was just so confused and overwhelmed by everything.”

“Yeah, I was too. I think it was probably best that we ended things off that way now that I think about it. It was harsh, but it’s what I needed,” you admitted.

“What do you mean?” Gojo asked.

“Gojo,” you sighed, “no matter how bad the relationship was, I willing to stay regardless and ruin myself. It sounds pathetic to say, but I truly loved you so much I wanted to do anything. I wanted you to try with me, at least show me you still wanted me. So, that might where you left and blocked me was the best thing. No contact, right?” You chuckled, like it was some natural thing to say, like it didn’t make your guts turn to think about how much you cried for months on end wondering where everything went wrong.

Gojo stared at you and it’s like he could see the tears on your face from all those times he made you cry, but now you were just brushing it off. Deep down, he still sees it hurts you, he knows you too well. “I loved you, but you deserved better.”

You looked him in eyes. “I wanted you to be better. It’s too late for that, right?” You weren’t really asking, more of a rhetorical question, but Gojo didn’t take it that way.

“It is…I’m engaged…I have a fiancé,” his words were quiet and his bright blue eyes somehow dimmed.

“Oh.” Suddenly those words seemed to turned your whole world upside down. Those simple words had such an impact on your life. The world felt dizzying, like it was spinning faster than you could keep up. “Congrats.” And those genuine smiles you were giving quickly turned fake again. “Did you propose?”

“Yeah…” He answered, blinking.

“Wow, that’s…how long?” You raised your brows in shock. Your mouth felt dry and that shot of alcohol you took just minutes ago felt like it was ready to come back up.

“It’s been a year and a half,” he plainly spoke.

You truly had no other words to say. While you were sat at home, dealing with the worst heart break of your life, mending yourself together piece by piece, he was having the time of his life with someone else. It took you a year to finally start feeling like yourself, to realize that it was going to be okay. In just a few months, he was willing to give another girl everything he couldn’t give you.

He never truly loved you.

Why couldn’t it have been you? Why were you always the girl before the one? Why were you never someone true love? Fairytale? It always ended in a nightmare. And now the man that you loved so deeply is getting married to someone else soon. “I’m happy for you, Gojo.”

“I’m sorry, y/n.” And gojo could tell you weren’t happy for him, yet you lied to him and to yourself to keep your true feelings from coming out. And he didn’t do a thing to stop you from walking out that kitchen, instead he watched you leave.

“Excuse me, ‘scuse me.” You pushed through the crowd of people, your chest starting to tighten and the music ringing in your ears. Fresh air, you needed fresh air. It felt like you were going to pass out. Why was everything moving in slow motion? You stumbled to your car, unlocking the door and quickly sitting down, slamming the door. The cool air hit your skin, your chest rapidly moving up and down with each shaky breath.

You turned to look towards the party, hoping by some miracle you’d see Gojo coming after you instead of just leaving you like he did before. And with each passing second, tears welled up in your eyes because you knew he wasn’t coming. A sob escaped your throat, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. You sucked in a breath, quickly wiping those tears away, afraid to show any sort of emotion towards him again. He didn’t deserve any more of your tears. But no matter how many tears you wiped and how much you tried to hold it in, it was inevitable. So you sat there, alone in your car, wiping your own tears and mending yourself back together before you had to go back home and restart your routine again tomorrow.

taglist:

@sleepykittyenergy @ravenbc @yharnam-prophet @screechingbasementprincess @avaredava @mxrxlxy @lordchula-thagrandrula @akiyhara @palestrawberrycollection @bijuu-naginata @jeansblit @jabulile @aemyuo @springismss @fmlalexis @gradmacoco @phob1cc @kousweet @saoirses-things

[prkersdiva]

just a weekend - s.r. x fem! reader

a/n: fake dating my beloved, b99 inspired this whole concept i can’t lie😭 minimal proofreading!! i’m still new to writing for spencer so i apologize if it’s not great !! italics indicate flashback!! this was so self-indulgent omg this was longer than i expected (likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!!)

summary: spencer reid had very little “game” as it is but he has had enough of his family asking when he’s bringing someone home and so he blurts out that he has someone… a complete and utter lie. it’s just one weekend, right...?

warnings: swearing, pining, fake dating, suggestive comment, reader has insecurities

w/c: 1,829

spencer walked into the bullpen with his head down looking into the contents of his coffee cup as he walked to his desk in silence.

“good morning!” you greeted him with a big smile, but your smile changed into a look of confusion and worry when he didn’t even glance your way. you sighed and got up from your desk and stood next to his chair.

“spill right now”

spencer knew you would spend hours annoying him until he said something, so he caved.

“my family kept nagging me about a girlfriend again and so i told them that i have one and now they want me to bring her to my cousin’s party this weekend”

you tried so hard not to laugh because oh he got himself into quite the mess.

“oh spencer, that is rough but that does not explain why you didn’t even greet me this morning”, you looked at him with an accusatory glance and his stomach dropped.

“ha-ha funny thing...”

he didn’t even have to say it, you knew and the whole thing made sense. he was awkward because he’d have to ask you to be his fake date for a weekend. that’s why he didn't look at you or speak to you.

“funny joke, spence”

spencer did not even show a sign of joking and you groaned. you weren’t a party person to begin with but attending a party as spencer’s plus one where you had to meet his family as his girlfriend instead of his best friend?

what could possibly go wrong?

“you owe me, i mean it!”

he agreed and thanked you a million times. you ruffled his hair and sent garcia a text and suddenly you were in her office telling her all about the situation.

“babe, don’t you like... adore him?”

you ran your hands through your hair in frustration and that was the moment jj walked in and looked between the two of you with confusion written all over her face. garcia caught her up to speed and jj placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

this is going to be a long damn weekend.

the dreaded weekend came much too quickly for your liking. you invited all the girls over to help you get ready and to try and ease your nerves.

after sifting through multiple outfit combinations, you finally found the perfect fit and once your makeup was done, everyone cheered and oohed and awed at you.

“spencer is going to trip over himself when he sees you”, garcia exclaimed as she brushed a piece of hair out of your face. you rolled your eyes playfully at her.

“you know he’s like starstruck by you, right?”, emily added as she helped you pick out some jewelry to match.

“he is not, he is just nice!”

all of your friends looked at like you were crazy. you just couldn’t even entertain the possibility that he saw you more than his friend.

now you have to be his fake girlfriend, no big deal!

“hey, if anything happens or you need an excuse to get away, we are all a call away, okay?” garcia reassured you and you were grateful to have such amazing friends.

the sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door and your heart dropped.

you took a deep breath and smiled as you opened the door for spencer.

“hi spence, i’m just going to grab my bag and then we can head out”, you told him as he looked at you as if he’s never seen you before.

jj snorted as she saw spencer staring at you like a lovestruck idiot. garcia swatted her arm to keep her quiet.

“wow. y-you look amazing. i mean you always look amazing but wow. you’re just really pretty, like you always are but i- uh woah”

you laughed his compliments off because you could not let yourself even consider for a second that his words ran deeper than a compliment.

spencer kept sneaking glances at you the whole night and it was making you shy.

you pulled up to the venue and that’s when the nerves kicked in. a million questions raced through your head at a mile a minute.

what if i’m not good enough for him? will they still like me as his girlfriend and not his best friend? what if they don’t approve?

spencer put his hand on your thigh and that stopped any new thoughts from coming in.

“hey, they know you; they love you”

“spencer, they love me as your best friend, but girlfriend is new territory”

“sweetheart, it’s going to be okay, i promise, just one weekend”

sweetheart. the pet name made you feel dizzy, he was just trying to reassure you but hearing that fall from his lips made you wish this was real and he was yours.

but he wasn’t.

you didn’t respond and you both got out of the car, and he intertwined your fingers together and your heart was racing, he definitely had to have heard it.

his hand in yours felt so right, as if he was meant to always hold your hand.

this was going to be difficult.

“spencer, thank you for coming! is this the special girl?”

your heart ached at the term “special girl”. why the fuck did you agree to this?

spencer looked over at you and put his arm around your shoulder.

“happy birthday! yes, she is my girl, brought her to meet the family”, spencer said smiling.

he was killing you little by little.

“hopefully she stays after meeting them”, his cousin joked, and you giggled.

spencer was practically glued to you the whole night which was not a problem but when this was over, you were going to yearn for his touch, and you wouldn’t get to have it.

after a while, you met spencer’s family, and they all adored you and were shouting praise at spencer for picking such a good one. the night went better than you expected but you didn’t want this to be over.

just a weekend.

you barely got through a night.

you and spencer said your goodbyes and headed back to your house and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss him.

i mean you’d have to look like a real couple, right? not like you’ve been hopelessly in love with him for a while and you’ve always wanted to know what it was like to kiss him.

“what are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

sweetheart. he is trying to kill you, like genuinely.

“it’s a secret”

“hmm can’t i know?”

you laughed and didn’t respond as you got ready for bed and started to walk towards the couch, but he grabbed your wrist, sending chills through your entire body.

“stay.”

you had to fight every bone in your body from kissing him right there.

two more days of this. for fucks sake.

you silently got into bed next to him and none of you mentioned how you cuddled closer together in the middle of the night.

the events of tonight’s party were still fresh in your mind as if it just happened, but it was hours ago and you were at home turned on your side, thinking about it.

“this is your girl?”

spencer held you closer as he placed a kiss to your hairline, and everyone awed at the sight.

you and spencer spent the whole night laughing, dancing and talking to everyone.

the night had come to an end and spencer stopped in front of the car and you sent him a curious look.

he didn’t say anything. he placed a kiss on your cheek.

you touched your cheek and still felt his lips there, it was a small action, but it left you feeling lightheaded.

the feeling of spencer so close to you in bed felt so right even though you knew, this would all be over soon, and you’d go back to being… friends. the word sent shivers to your whole body.

how were you supposed to go back to being friends after this?

you want to be relieved the weekend is nearly over, but you can’t. not when you’ve gotten a little glimpse into what being with him was like, you wanted it to last.

spencer was actually losing his mind. he did not know if he could handle having you this close without wanting to kiss you, he’s been hopelessly in love with you since the day you brought him his coffee order simply because you know him.

this whole weekend has made him realize that he wants to be with you and not just for a weekend.

he can’t go back to friends after this, he will actually drive himself to an early grave if he has to. he tries so hard to make the night last as long as he could but even, he can’t control time. he is now faced with the reality that at work, you will just be friends again.

spencer can’t take it. he won’t take it.

“wait!” spencer calls out as you start walking to the car. you stop in your tracks.

“why are you so far behind? your legs are longer than mine!”

he laughed at that but made no effort to walk any faster which made you even more confused.

“are you training for the slow walkers marathon? you might just win”, you shouted as you sent him an unamused glance as you pointed to your heels.

he finally caught up to you, but he stopped you from opening the car door.

“spencer! i want to go home, what are you doing?”

“prolonging the night”, he replied with a big smile on his face.

you raised an eyebrow at him but urged him to elaborate.

he didn’t respond which frustrated you. you sighed dramatically and looked at him.

“now you don’t respond? spencerrr, come on!”

“can i kiss you?”

your eyes widened comically like a cartoon character because there was no way this was real life.

“the night is over, spencer, we don’t have to pretend anymore”

“i know but i want to kiss you”

you didn’t know what to say but your eyes spoke all he needed to know.

he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss and it was as if the world had stopped for you and him. it was only you and spencer in the middle of a dimly lit street, and it was all you've ever wanted.

you pulled away hesitantly and he smiled at you. neither of you said a word but no words needed to be said. you knew this was bound to happen.

you don’t have to pretend anymore.

“what about the whole dating coworkers thing?”, you teased as you pulled on his tie.

“quiet now”

“make me”

“i don’t think that’s a challenge you’ll win”

you hit his shoulder and he raised his hands in mock defense.

[the-mandawhor1an]

Searching for the stars pt.2 | Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Summary: You come to terms with the fact that somehow, a Roman general ended up on your worksite. You and Marcus develop a plan to get him back home, or at least to reunite him with his wife.

Words: 7.4k

Tags: Time travel; wet puppy Marcus; Reader is a little horny; alcohol consumption; a hint of infidelity; talk about grief and loss; death during childbirth; angst; heartbreak; religious imagery; no use of y/n;

(further tags omitted to not spoil the outcome)

Speech in italics indicates that Latin is being spoken.

Notes: Well well, part two is finally here. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first one. Marcus is back and he's here to stay (or not, he wants to go home to wifey, after all)

Comments etc. are appreciated, thank you to @rivnedell for beta-ing this for me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The next morning came way too quickly for your liking, even if you stayed on your mattress way past your usual time. The night had been very short and sleeping practically next to some stranger made your sleep anything but restful. It seemed you weren’t the only one dealing with the sobering realization that yesterday hadn’t been a weird dream. 

General Acacius sighed in disappointment when he awoke on the couch. How he felt any kind of rested was beyond you, he had been tossing and turning and whispering his wife’s name all night, waking you up ever so often. To your luck, you could deal with little sleep as long as you would get some caffeine into your system. 

Feeling miserable and Acacius frankly looking miserable, you had decided to bring him to your apartment. He deserved to freshen up a little and you craved the sweet salvation from this tiredness with the help of some coffee. Your guest was respectful and you had no doubts he would not do anything stupid in your little flat. After all, you could pretend like you had weapons all over your place. A remote, a laser pointer, anything. 

Despite all the concerns for your safety, there was more you had to deal with. For example, you had to introduce him to a few concepts that were absolutely new to him, like the private bathroom you had. While in theory, what a toilet and a shower was, he would know, the way your accommodations worked was vastly different from the ones in his time. The toilet was relatively easy to explain, despite a little awkward exchange about the toilet brush that was in fact just for cleaning the bowl and not … the body. 

With the shower, it was a different story. Hot water, cold water, playing with the handle to find the sweet spot and also… soap. In ancient Rome he would have been used to rubbing scented oils on his skin to get all of the grime off, and now it was scented soap. You apologized for only having floral shower gels, but then again, lavender and rose were at least scents he was used to. It was probably easier on his nose than any kind of soap for men would be. What did “active sport” or “cool ice” even smell like? 

You handed him a towel and clothes you still had lying around from your ex, hoping they would fit, and then let him deal with the bathroom himself. 

Seemingly, your little lesson in modern hygiene was enough, as he came out of the bathroom half an hour later, in your ex’s clothes. You’ve just finished making a simple breakfast, scrambled eggs and some bread, when he came over to you. The clothes fit. The dark t-shirt was a little tight, maybe too tight, as you could see the curve of his pecs so perfectly. Also, the grey sweat pants fit snugly and you did your best to not look to avoid blushing. 

Coffee was ready and you filled some in your favorite mug, processing the sight of his wet curls for a second. “What’s this?” he asked and pointed at the mug. “Coffee,” you explained, he repeated the word and you nodded. “We drink it in the morning to wake up. And during the rest of the day because we’re addicted.” A second mug was placed on the counter, filled with a little and you handed it over to him. The mug suddenly looked tiny in his hands when he held it up to his face and sniffed. Of course, the scent of hot coffee wasn’t necessarily pleasant when one had never smelled it. When he took a sip, his face obscured and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It tastes disgusting,” he complained. 

“Try mine,” you offered and handed your mug, which was about 50/50 mixed with milk and a little sugar. He took another sip and while it looked like he didn’t enjoy that one either, his face wasn’t contorted as much. “It’s better.” You pulled milk from the fridge and offered him some sugar. In the end his coffee looked to be 80 percent milk and a lot of sugar, but he drank it, so what did it matter. 

“Sit down,” you ordered him to sit at the table and set down two plates with the egg and bread. It was probably something that was easier for him to stomach than any other food you could’ve offered. “Eggs and bread?” he asked and you nodded. “The coffee is enough of a adventure for you right now. And the clothes.” “They’re so tight.” “My last partner practically lived in these,” you explained with a shrug. “Where is he? Did he die?”

“No, he just left. We had a lot of arguments and he didn’t want to stay.” Before it would go cold, you started eating your egg. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to give you a bit of energy to think about what to do today. That was, if Marcus was done with his interview. “Why did you fight?” “My work. It was important to me and he thought it was cute at first, but he realised it was my priority and he didn’t want that.”

Marcus nodded and took a sip of his ‘anything but coffee’. It felt weirdly domestic to sit here and eat with him, especially so because he was so relaxed about all of this. Sure, conversing in Latin was weird, but it wasn’t like you were forced to speak a lot of Italian around here either way. It wasn’t too far off. 

“I saw the wall. When did your obsession start?” When was the last time someone was actually interested in something you did? You took another sip of coffee and then you told him in short. How you’ve been obsessed with Rome ever since you could remember. In the beginning it just seemed you never outgrow the ancient Egypt and Rome phase every child had at one point. One of your earliest dream jobs has been archeology. Every weekend you were at museums, every family trip had to be planned around to see the exhibitions there. Once old enough, you worked in the local museum, mostly administrative work but it helped you with getting into contact with other scholars. Also, you could spend your breaks in the exhibitions and just daydream a little. When it came to getting a degree, you studied classical Latin and archeology. 

During your first year of university, they found a bust of him. It was only halfway there, it missed the face, but judging by the armor they could tell it must’ve been a general or a high-ranking officer in the Roman military. A copy of said bust had been in your museum for a while and you were mesmerized by it. It was a little later, midway into your studies, when they stumbled upon the name Acacius so often that they were pretty much certain ‘the General’ was Acacius. You became so obsessed with him, a general that history had almost forgotten, and you wanted to be part of the group that would unveil the mystery about him. Your professors were so exhausted with your antics by the time you had your degree, but this incessant interest is what made you land the job as an archeologist in the end. 

“Why me?” he asked when you were done with your little story, and you shrugged. “You fascinated me. In the beginning it was the mystery around you and your life, also the prestige one would earn from finding more out about you. And then more was found, especially your obsession with starlight, it just… caught me.”  He nodded. “It was our little inside joke because of her name.” “I know… I know. It developed into an obsession, the modern times are so boring compared to the Roman Empire. But… look how far I’ve made it. I found your villa.” “and me” A mischievous yet so attractive grin crept up to his lips and there wasn’t much you could do, you had to mirror it. “That came as a surprise.” “How much of the house have you found? What about the rest of the estate?” 

You got up to get yourself some water. “We’re still on the lookout, why?” His eyebrows twitched and head dipped down. “I had a dream about my wife…” and as soon as these words left his lips, you were reminded that Marcus wasn’t just a handsome stranger you had met yesterday and had breakfast with right now. He was a grieving husband who was stuck in a different time. “She called out for me and told me she was waiting.” “Did she tell you where?” “Where she was laid to rest” 

You fell silent for a bit. While you had daydreamed about meeting Marcus before, this was real. It felt weird to just have him sit at your table, in your ex’s clothes, talking to you like you were coworkers. You wanted to help him reunite with his wife, but also – you didn’t want him to go. There was the man you had been reading about for such a long time that it ruined your relationship, and there were so many questions he could answer now. You left your home to be part of this excavation. And yet you didn’t know … 

“We have no documentation where she was buried. Also, most of the cemeteries didn’t survive all of this time.” Guilt washed over you. Here you were, one of the most knowledgeable people on Acacius’s life, but you didn’t know where they kept Astra’s remains. “She was buried where I proposed to her. There was a very old tree on my estate. We would go there and look at the stars.” 

“Damn,” came out of you, unable to stop it. Marcus was like straight out of fiction, it seemed. A hopeless romantic. It really made your heart flutter. “Pardon?” “My apologies. It will just be very hard to find a tree that hasn’t been there in over a thousand years. With buildings we might find documentation, but trees? I doubt any map we can find would have accurate plant placement.” 

Again, his face contorted as if you had just declined his marriage proposal. “I’m sorry, I just miss her so much.” It stung. You barely knew him but his pain was palpable. With a sigh you walked over to your table and leaned in, stretched out your arm and raised your pinkie in front of his view. “Do what I do.” He did and you hooked his pinkie with yours. “I promise I will do everything in my power to help you find her. Your pain must be bad. I can’t imagine what it must feel like but your face tells me enough.” He flexed his pinkie just a bit and dear God, that man was strong. “It’s unbearable at times. I’d rather be dead sometimes.” Strong, and intense, it seemed. 

The pinkies unhooked and you took the dirty dishes to put them into the sink. Marcus wasn’t done with the topic, however. Your promise to help was one thing, but he had something on his mind. “Can’t I help you?” He could, very easily. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think about this myself. If there is anyone that would know about the layout of your estate, it would be you.” “How can I help there?” “We will get drawings of the ruins, and if you’re behaving, we can go back to your villa and look at it. But I need you to be quiet, don’t talk unless we’re alone.” 

He nodded and got up. Just as he stretched, the shirt that was a little too tight on him slipped upwards, exposing some of his sun kissed skin. “Can I get different clothes before we go?” As much as I want to say no and stare at you for a little longer… “Can I leave you here unattended for a little?” “You can, I will behave.” “Promise?” He offered his pinkie and grinned. That’s all you needed for confirmation and you left for the shops. You had to guess his size, but judging by your ex’s stuff almost fitting, you knew enough, probably. One size up and you should be fine. Most importantly you got him some underwear because… the sweatpants weren’t hiding anything and you would unfortunately need to focus on work around him. You found some loose-fitting jeans and some natural fiber shirts. They were anything but cheap, but you were a little concerned with how well his skin would handle synthetic fibers, let alone all the detergents and softeners fabrics had in them. Thinking about it, it was a little lucky that he didn’t have any reaction to the soap you had offered him. Socks and some sneakers, and you were off on your way back. 

After your return, he changed into a new set of clothes and you prayed that his poor, unpolluted skin could handle what it was exposed to, as there was no time to wash the clothes before he wore them, first. The rest of his clothes landed in the wash, though. His shirt, silky and almost black, had a little too many buttons and you helped him close them. You took the opportunity of being so close to him to give him a little pep talk. “Just stay close to me, okay? I don’t want you wandering around my workplace unattended.” Acacius was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you a little nervous, especially because you could smell your shower gel on him, and he was closely watching you fumble with the buttons. “I’ll stay close,” he grumbled, just loud enough that you can hear it. After all, why speak louder when you were right opposite of him? Your eyes wandered upwards and found his, and it felt like your heart sank right into your panties. His lips were curled into a one-sided smirk and it took everything from you to not squeak. 

One less awkward walk down to the office later, you found the layouts you had of the villa and placed them on the largest table you had in your little container-office. Marcus leaned over the table, causing you to bite your lower lip for just a moment. His butt looked so good in these jeans. “This is what we have found so far,” you explained and tried to detach your eyes from his backside before he would catch you staring at him. With a few steps you were next to him, leaning over the table just like he was. Your head turned to him. “Please don’t tell me we’re completely wrong,” you added. You felt a little anxious because he looked at it for so long. “No it’s… close enough,” he mumbled. Close enough? 

Before you could ask for clarification, his fingers traveled across the gigantic sheet of paper. “It was a short walk from the villa in this direction.” His fingers soon left the paper and you took another plan. It was a further zoomed out satellite image of the area and the rough walls of the villa sketched in. 

Acacius gave it a look, his finger traveled the same path over and over again, but as soon as he came close to the buildings that were there now, he seemed confused. “This is harder. Everything looks so different and it’s so small.” “It’s okay,” you reassured him and placed a hand on his shoulder “You don’t have to know right away. We can go down to the ruins, maybe it helps to just be there.” 

And you were there all day. You were sometimes even arguing with Marcus until you remembered it had been his house and his opinion was more valuable than any of your educated guesstimations. And upon further inspection, some of the walls actually looked to be younger, meaning the villa had been used after his disappearance and partially rebuilt. 

Philippe had observed you and Marcus all day, ending the shift with way too many notes about the villa. Changes that were to be made in the floor plan. If they could find evidence to claim these changes on rather than someone’s opinion. At least they could justify parts of these changes just by the walls being significantly newer and this would also probably mean there was more funding you could get for this excavation. 

This evening you and the general went back to your apartment. He was very adamant that you should sleep in the comfort of your bed, and your couch was a lot more comfortable for him as well. Despite your reservations at first, you brought some wine and two glasses over to the couch, where Marcus patiently waited for you. “I know it’s probably not the outcome you had wished for for today, but we’re making good progress. I brought some wine, assuming it’s something you’re used to drinking. It might be a little strong. We can water it down if it is. You did good today and I wanted to celebrate it a little.” You filled the glasses with the wine, handing one of the glasses over to him “Thank you,” he nodded and took a sip of the wine. You took your glass and did the same. Marcus had opened the uppermost buttons on the black shirt and you had changed into a cami top and sweatpants, lazily lounging on your couch. 

“Do you think we can find her?” “I’m sure. I can’t tell you how long it will take, but we will. How’s the wine?” He took another sip and nodded approvingly. “I like it. It’s very sweet.” “Just be careful, it might be a little strong for you.” Again, he smirked, this time just a little less cheeky. “I can handle it.” You believed him.   

“So, tell me about her,” you said as you leaned back into the corner of your couch, one arm on the arm rest, the other holding the wine glass on your thigh. Hearing about Astra made you curious. Acacius really loved her, you were sure of it, and you wanted to know what made her so special to him. It was heartwarming to hear about other relationships, after all. That was, until you remembered that he had lost her. 

“She was beautiful,” he mused. “I returned from war and it was like any other day. I was out in the city and she bumped into me at the market. She apologized profusely and our eyes met. She was so gorgeous it took my breath away.” He looked over to you. The candles on the coffee table reflected in his eyes. “She must’ve thought the same,” stumbled out of your lips, causing him to laugh. At least you hadn’t said you agreed with her observation, because this was awkward enough. You had another sip of the wine. The awkwardness flew over his head, or he didn’t want to make you feel any kind of uncomfortable. He just continued. 

“I turned into the biggest idiot in her presence, I didn’t know how to carry myself. Handling legions came second nature to me after being in the military for so long. But being around her… I felt like a child, careless and a little adventurous at times. I took every opportunity to talk to her until she showed up at my villa one evening.” He emptied his glass and helped himself with some more. 

You were hooked and asked “why was she at your villa?” His smile became wider and he sat back “It had been two or three days since I had last seen her, it was a busy week. She came over because she wanted to talk to me. We went to my garden and looked at the stars and talked. It became late and I didn’t want her to walk back home alone. I offered to bring her.” It sounded so romantic and you were a little jealous. Would anyone ever talk about how they met you in such a loving manner? “And she refused?” “She kissed me and asked if she could stay.”   

Judging by his grin, the outcome wasn’t hard to guess. “And she stayed…” “Yes, she did.” You could only imagine what he was thinking about when he grinned like this. You cleared your throat and emptied your wine glass, set it down on the table. Was he aware of what this was doing to you? You were both on your couch, you were drinking – he had his damn chest out and practically openly talked about sex. It was hard to shake off the image of him in the grey sweatpants. It was like you could almost see everything. 

“What about your … partner? How did you meet?” Marcus asked you, possibly out of courtesy. He wasn’t really interested in your love life, was he? “I don’t think it’s interesting. We’re separated anyway. I don’t miss him.” Short and sweet, and such a diplomatic answer. Of course you missed your ex from time to time, but he never understood your passion. Incompatible, that’s what you were. “Is it normal to not be married in your time?” With a shrug you responded “it’s… not unusual. We get married later in life, a lot never marry.” 

Marcus' reaction was expectedly negative. “Sounds lonely.” But you could reassure him “It’s not.” It really wasn’t. You had friends for your social interactions, and on desperate evenings, you had Tinder to remind you that most modern men were absolutely not worth the effort. Marcus seemed to be particularly interested in the latter part, as his next question struck you by surprise. “When is the last time you’ve been with a man?” You gulped and stuttered “I… uh… I can take care of myself.” Which technically wasn’t a lie, but you would rather die than teach him about toys right now. “Sure you can,” he took another sip and cocked an eyebrow. You motherfu… Was he flirting with you? 

Quick, say something before it gets awkward again!! “I’m surprised that it doesn't bother you. Isn’t modesty one of the female virtues in your time?” He nodded, but shrugged shortly thereafter. “It was. But this isn’t my time. Do you want more wine?” His hand pointed towards your wine glass and despite knowing you shouldn’t, you agreed to another glass. Acacius reached for the bottle and leaned over when filling your glass with wine. You could see his heart beat on the vein on his neck, pulsing in the candle light. There was nothing you could do, you stared at him, so handsome in the dim light of the small flame. And so close to you. As if he had heard your thoughts, he turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised. You didn’t move, but neither did he. 

Suddenly, the tension in the air was thick and you could make out his heavy but suppressed breathing. You watched as he leaned over, coming closer to you. One of his hands landed on the back rest, the other on the hand rest next to you, meaning you were caged against the corner on the couch. It felt like time was running slower when he leaned in and before you could react in any way, you felt his lips, kissing you ever so gently. Your hand was in his hair in an instant, pulling him in, tasting the wine on his lips. Reluctantly, he retreated just a moment later, and that’s when it also fully hit you: Marcus had kissed you. 

All you could ask him was “why did you kiss me just now?” because it didn’t make sense in your mind. He had just told you about his wife and suddenly he was practically pinning you against your couch and kissed you. “It must be the wine,” he explained in a murmur. “My apologies.” After you had taken a breath, you shook your head. “It’s nothing. I told you the wine is strong. Don’t worry.” Still, you took the wine glass and held onto it for dear life. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to forget he’s married and just give into the urge and kiss him again. To feel the heat of his skin on yours, the ripple of his muscles and the sweet growl of his voice when he moaned your name. Stop it! You softly smiled at him despite your very dirty thoughts and tried to make the situation just a little less uncomfortable for the both of you. “The couch is yours, you don’t have to kiss me for it.” A sigh of relief escaped his lips. “Thank you.”

Acacius stared into the wine and swished it around, as if he expected there to be some kind of wisdom in the dark red liquid. “Do you think we can find her?” he asked. Maybe he wanted to remind himself that he was on the search for his wife. “I’m sure we will find her. All we need to do is trust in your memories. And we will need to be patient.” You meant it. You were adamant about keeping your promise, even if it took a while. The general was welcome to stay with you. It wasn’t like you weren’t majorly benefitting from his support. “Thank you again for helping me and stopping your work for it.” “We’re not stopping. You’re helping me immensely, your life is my work.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. How long had he been missing his wife now? How long did it take him to kiss a stranger? “How long has it been since she passed?” “In my time?” You nodded. Marcus sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “A week. She went into labor. I was getting ready to be a father, to hold my child in my arms and suddenly I was a widower, left with nothing but my grief.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you expressed your condolences. It made sense why he had been so distraught when he showed up here. The wounds were fresh. “It was a girl and she was as beautiful as her mother,” he said as a pained smile showed up on his face. “I still don’t understand what wrong I did for the gods to punish me like this. What did I do for them to take away everything I held dear.” Tears welled up in his eyes and sparkled in the candle light. If only he hadn’t kissed you, because now you hesitated placing your hand on him to soothe express your empathy. What were you supposed to say? No one believed in the old gods for the most part, but then again, science was definitely not able to explain why he ended up here, 1800 years into the future. 

You’ve been in thought for a second so you didn’t see him lean forward and cover his eyes with a hand. Only the single sob that came out pulled you back to reality. You put your wine back on the table, leaned in, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Fuck, he’s warm. “I’m sorry. I know there’s not much I can do to soothe your pain, but I’m here for you. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose both your spouse and child but it must feel like you’re dying yourself.” That was definitely making it worse, as his sobs came out in full now. You sighed, swallowed the awkwardness and hugged him from the side. A moment later he put his glass on the table and turned to hug you back. With his face buried in your hair, you let him cry, only stroking his back. “We will find her,” you softly whispered against his head while he still was holding onto you. 

Whether it was the soft touches, your words or the hug itself, you felt his breath become more and more regular. No sobs shook you any more. All you could feel was his heart beat and his warm breath against your scalp. Somewhere in between breaths you could’ve sworn he had whispered something into your hair. You stayed like this until he decided to let go first. Your fingers were in his hair again, giving his scalp a soft massage as he looked back into your eyes. At least you had found the right words to say while you held him. “I don’t care how long it takes. I might need to find creative justifications for why our research is taking a different turn, but we will reunite you with your wife. And your little girl. I promise.”  

After this outbreak of raw emotions, you both decided to pour the rest of the wine down the drain and go to sleep; separately. You felt a little conflicted because it seemed like your presence was soothing to him but it also made him feel guilty, as if it pained him to be around you. And you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You’ve sacrificed so much for your research and you were so fascinated by him. Acacius seemed so soft, so loving and gentle deep down. Sure, you projected a lot onto him, imagining him to be the perfect man to his wife. How often had you wondered if you would ever find someone that would love you like he loved his wife?

And then you met him, he fell right before your feet. To be fair, your first meeting had been a little explosive but Marcus was so understanding and frankly… he had taken your breath away as soon as you had met his eyes with yours; it felt a little just like he explained reacting to first seeing Astra – but you didn’t feel like an idiot in his presence, just a little awkward from time to time. 

The next days you spent basically remaking all of the sketches of the villa layout. It was a lot of work, but you had a good feeling that this would help Marcus estimate the distances better. He was your only hope with finding the location of the tree, after all. Then again, without him you wouldn’t be in this trouble at all. 

You didn’t mind. Marcus and you grew closer, working all day on the site, sitting in the office on occasion going over some of the other things you found, only to go home with him, falling asleep in your separate beds to do it all again the next day. You became good friends, you found a routine. Marcus was invaluable to your research and in return for his help you offered what you could. A bed, a bath, lazy sundays on the couch, and an occasional hug when his grief overcame him. 

It wasn’t a lot you could offer, but it seemed to do the trick. The bad nights were rare and you would start seeing a different side of him altogether. Marcus was an intense person, no one could deny that, but he was warm and gentle, even goofy, and sometimes even a little protective when he felt you were uncomfortable. Whenever he was approached by women, which happened more times than you had expected, you helped out. It didn’t take long for him to learn some basic words in Italian and also some in English. He was a smart man, after all, and despite this not being his time, he adapted fast. 

He grew to like black coffee. That was of all things the biggest surprise. The face he had made when he first tried it convinced you he was more of a cappuccino type of guy, but on some mornings you stepped out of the shower and coffee was already waiting for you, your roommate humming to himself while looking out of the kitchen window. 

It didn’t register at first, but for a while it felt like Astra was completely forgotten. You and Marcus worked alongside one another like he was just another coworker that just so happened to live with you. Nothing further than the kiss had happened between you two, it wasn’t like you were actively trying to make him forget about his wife. Rather he would listen to your theories, trying to connect stories of other Romans that lived at the same time. And he would deliver the hottest gossip no one today would know about. 

Today, however, was a different day. “Maybe we should stay home,” you sighed as you watched the rain drops collect on the kitchen window. You were having breakfast, Marcus sat opposite of you in the same dark, silky shirt, the top button undone. “It’s just water, we should get over there soon,” he responded with a shrug. He was right, but still, part of you wanted to just stay in bed today. Was it the rain? Were you a little under the weather? You’ve never been sensitive to changes in this way. 

Something was off with him today, but not in a bad way. There was a pep in his step, so to say, an enthusiasm to work you had not seen in him. At first he was frustrated, nervous, then joyful whenever you could cross off one task of the sheer never ending list. But today, it was like he had just won the lottery. He was all smiles and giddy about the same old work. 

“We should try to find it, I think,” he said as soon as you entered the office. He went straight for the coffee machine while you draped the newest revision of the villa’s layout onto the table. He laid down on the couch and recounted his steps, while you tried to mark the way down on your map. It didn’t have to be 100 percent accurate, but if you had a rough idea of what area to search, you could just go there and see if you could find Astra. 

Did you ever think about how absurd this was? Absolutely, but Marcus was here and very real, why was it so unbelievable that his wife would be here somewhere? 

You spent all day going back and forth with him, until you decided right around sunset that it was probably for the best if he got to actually walk from his villa to wherever he expected Astra to be. “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he explained when you stood at the ruins, the warm rain pattering onto his shoulders, slowly soaking him and you. You took his hand and nodded. “I will make sure you won’t run into anything.” Marcus raised your hands in front of his face and kissed the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact. As beautiful as the thought was to reunite him with his wife, you knew you would miss this. Miss him. He was by no means romantically involved with you, but his whole presence, who he was and how he was with you… 

It would leave you a little empty and lost. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked him as he started walking. As he had his eyes closed, you could sneak in a few glances. He was so handsome and the joy that radiated from his face made him even more attractive. If only he’d be smiling for you. “Do you think this is it?” he asked, opening his eyes just a slit to look over to you. Of course, you averted your gaze and scanned the environment, making sure he wouldn’t run into anything. “I have a good feeling about this,” you confirmed and nodded. It was a lie. You had a bad feeling about this and that’s what probably meant this was it. He was about to leave. 

If this meant you would go your separate ways soon, you’d better make the most of the time you still had. One question about today burned in your mind. “Why today? What is so special about it? You’ve been so enthusiastic about it since we left the apartment” “The rain.” “The rain?” You both stopped for a second. By now you were almost drenched, but with the heat during the day, this almost felt refreshing rather than uncomfortable. And no one could deny that wet hair made him look even better. You should really stop thinking about him like this. 

“She appeared in my dreams again. She said we would reunite when rain fell from the stars.” His explanation sounded convincing enough, but then again “you never told me you had dreamt about her again.” Your voice actually sounded a little accusatory. Marcus just shrugged “I … must’ve forgotten. It wasn’t like it had rained before today so – it wasn’t important.” 

Huh, not important. You swallowed your pride and you continued on. “Do you think the stars might be crying?” He sounded confused when he replied “why would I think that?” “Well,” you began, “the poem, think of it as a sequel. You might have proposed to her on a clear night, but maybe they’re crying because they’re saying farewell to their sisters again.” “How did you know it was a clear night?” “Stars aren’t visible behind clouds” 

Marcus stopped abruptly and looked at you again. His curls dropped forward, droplets of rain running along the salt and pepper strands and falling onto your face. Did he know how handsome he was, even by today’s standards? Despite all the scars? His thumb gently stroked your hand and a smile crept up to his lips. “You’re such a smart woman. It’s a shame no one appreciates that. Thank you for everything,” he mused. His words touched you, he was one of the few people whose compliments felt genuine. “Thank you, general. I’m so curious to meet her,” you responded, squeezing his hand ever so softly. Only a few more minutes and you could stop lying, to him and to yourself. “I can’t wait to hold her in my arms again.” Ouch. 

You kept walking and after a few close calls with tripping hazards, he stopped for the final time. “This should be it,” he said and opened his eyes. You were in a small alley, behind a house it seemed. “No trees here,” you said softly. Not like you had expected anything else. If there had been a tree in Rome that was this old, you would’ve heard about it.  

Marcus let go of your hand and walked towards a small shrine on one of the walls that had gathered his attention. You stared at your now empty hand. It felt a little cold now that he had let go. “What does it say?” he asked, pointing at a little sign by the shrine, and you followed him to a statue of virgin Mary with baby Jesus. The imagery must have been a little painful to see for him. 

You read the small inscription. “It’s a shrine of the virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, the… son of the Christian God.” You heard him mutter something, probably disappointment, or confusion why a virgin was a mother. “It says here they found the remains of a woman and a child when this house was built, so they put the shrine here.” you turned to look at him. “This must be it. We found her.” 

And as much as it hurt you to know that Marcus would leave, the joy you saw in his eyes soothed your pain a little. After all, your friend had lost so much more than you would lose after he would be with his wife again. They could continue their life and you wondered what this meant for the present, for your time. Would history change? 

Would he forget you for the sake of never letting anyone know where he had been?

You both heard steps coming down the alley. Marcus didn’t dare move and neither did you. As much as you wanted him to be happy, what about you? Could you be selfish for a second? He would leave you behind, separated from him by so much time. It wasn’t like there was much that held him here, besides the one friend he made. 

The woman that came around the corner was definitely not his wife. It was an older lady under an umbrella, taking an evening walk or maybe going home, carrying a small bag. You and her exchanged pleasantries, distracting you for a moment. 

“Astra, where are you?” he asked, as soon as his gaze was back on him, you saw the pain in his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. How you would’ve loved to do the same. “Astra!” he called out into the night and you flinched, startled by the sudden volume. “Astra!” he called again. 

You heard some residents complain about the noise. You blinked a few times and afterwards looked at him, “Marcus,” you softly addressed him. “I don’t understand it. She said she’d be here, but there’s just me and … you.” He turned to look at you and disappointment left for confusion, one eyebrow raised. What?

“Are you crying?” You couldn’t feel the tears on your already wet face but you nodded, certain your eyes were tearing up because you would lose him. With a few steps Marcus was opposite of you, cupping your face with one hand and wiping your cheek. “Why are you crying?” “Happy tears” His head tilted to the side. “I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled. Marcus came a little closer, chest to chest with you, and his second hand joined in to cup your face. “Tell me.” How were you supposed to let this go without tears?  

“I’m happy for you, or… I thought I was, but I –” he leaned in and shut you up by kissing you. You leaned in but at the same time you muttered out a “stop” in between kisses. He growled “no” and kept going. “Marcus,” you tried to get him to stop again, this time successfully, allowing you to take a breath.

“I thought we were over this,” you tried to accuse him of something, but it fell on deaf ears this time around. “You’re smart. Connect the dots.” His voice was so silky and you absolutely wanted to hate him for being so hot when you should be mad at him. “You’re kissing me here when your wife is about to show up any second to leave with you!” 

“Carissima,” he stroked your cheeks. “It’s just us here. I should have known from the beginning when I first saw you.” “What?” “It’s you. It’s always been you. You have her wit, her heart… and her eyes.” He gave you a once-over, never stopping stroking your cheeks. “But the rain–” “As you so cleverly pointed out: Stars aren’t visible then it rains.”

And then it partially clicked. “The poem…” “Your eyes are the stars, and your tears are the rain.” Marcus leaned in and placed a kiss onto your forehead before he continued. “I was meant to stumble before your feet and fall in love with you all over again. And I fell hard.” “But you were so persistent to find her today,” you intercepted. Of course, you were a little overwhelmed with what was going on. Was he really implying you were some kind of reincarnation of Astra? He shook his head. “I was waiting for a sign that I was right.” 

You raised your head to see him smiling at you. “Please tell me you feel the same.” It’s a little hard to process it all, but all you wanted was to give in, so you nodded. You had fallen for him a while ago, ever since you had seen the brown eyes for the first time. To confirm your gesture, Marcus kissed you again, one hand in the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer. Your fingers were in his hair, tangling in the wet curls. “Now it’s happy tears,” you whispered when he leaned in once more, forehead against forehead. He smiled warmly and gave you another peck on the lips.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked. Not that the rain wasn’t pleasant, but you stood here in a random alleyway when you had an apartment close.  “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” You offered with a grin. “I would love to. I love you.” “I love you too.”  

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men. 

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option. 

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, ��I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He’ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

[saeist]

there was an immense pounding sensation in your head the moment you woke up. you opened your eyes to be greeted by the sunlight peeking through the grey curtains– wait, grey?

squinting, (from both the headache and sunlight), you sat up from the bed. wrong move in your opinion cause now your head felt like it was being hammered down non stop

you scanned your surroundings. a king sized bed with black covers, dark grey walls with a 40 inch flat screen tv mounted on it with little to no decorations around. an office table and a tall shelf filled with trophies

that’s when you realized that you weren’t at your apartment.

you looked down on yourself to see that (thankfully) you still had your clothes on, although it wasn’t the same clothes you had on last night. instead, it was an oversized shirt who probably belonged to the stranger whose place you just crashed in last night. you carefully got up from the comfortable bed and began to wander around the place

the sound of your footsteps alerted sae, who was cooking breakfast, that you finally woke up. you take a peek at the corner of the kitchen that was connected to the living room. there you see a tuff of cherry red hair

“sae?” you called out, hoping the stranger really turned out to be sae

sae turns around with his usual stoic face. “yeah, it’s me”

“oh thank god” you breathe out, a hand over your chest. “i was beginning to think i got kidnapp-“ you cut your sentence short when your head started to pound again.

“there’s water and painkillers on the cabinet. you know, for the hangover.” sae says, using the spatula that he was using to point out his cabinet where he kept some advil.

now you’re sat at his kitchen island, waiting for his eggs and bacon as you try to recall last night’s event.

“soo…” you start, sae hums, an indicator that he was listening, “how much did i drink last night?”

sae turns off his induction stove, he probably just finished cooking. he carefully places down some eggs and bacon on a separate plate before heading over to you.

“you finished a bottle of cuervo all by yourself and even chugged some jaeger right after”

you felt your cheeks burn up in embarrassment. no way in hell you just embarrassed yourself in front of the sae itoshi last night. what’s worse is that you couldn’t even remember your actions. did you do something? were you dancing your ass out?

“did i… did i kiss you last night? i can’t remember.” you pinched the space between your eyes, unable to look at sae in the eye, who was in front of you.

sae continues to do his thing by placing down 2 eggs and 2 bacon strips specifically on your plate. he pauses to look at you with an eyebrow raised,

“you seriously can’t remember?”

(italics - flashback)

“okay, i think that’s enough for tonight.” sae deadpans, trying to pry your hands off the bottle of tequila you were downing in one go after aiku and sendou dared you to chug it down in one go

when sae does successfully pries it off of you, you retaliated by whining and doing grubby hands in front of the red head

“sae you killjoy!” you whined, stomping your foot like a child. gaining the attention of the rest of u20. you were already swaying, probably because you were now shitfaced drunk.

“what’s the matter, angel? under lashes senpai not giving you another shot, hmm?” shidou pops out of no where, his arm slinging over your shoulder.

too drunk to process who was with you, you also wrapped your arms around shidou’s torso to balance yourself.

“yeah!” you pout, trying to get shidou to give you your bottle from sae

sae rolls his eyes at the sight before him. he gives away your empty bottle of cuervo to some waiter who conveniently passed by. it was the afterparty of japan u20 vs blue lock. even though they lost, they still went out to celebrate anyway since it’s not all the time itoshi sae joins your soccer team and of course sae brought you as his plus one.

“hands off, demon” sae spits, and shidou begrudgingly lets go of you while complaining about how unfair it was that this under lashes senpai can get anything he wants

sae grabs your hand and drags you to one of the tables the team paid for and sat you down. he fixes your posture as you were still swaying in place. he takes your chin to make you face him. you do but your eyes are hazy. you can barely make out sae’s face but thanks to his signature scent, you were still able to determine that the guy in front of you is sae and not some rando

“you’re drunk as fuck right now, y/n” sae says in a hushed tone. he rests his arm over the arm seat, unintentionally opening up more space. you don’t know what took over you but you casually invited yourself to his arms. you were now plush against his barely exposed chest.

sae freezes in shock. maybe it was also the alcohol that was slowly taking over but last time sae checked, he has an alcohol tolerance like a sailor

“warm” you murmur, resting your head on his chest. sending sae into a moment of panic in his head.

what the fuck. what the fuck. what the fuck

sae looks up and down. between your head that was literally now resting on his chest and some of the lingering u20 members. he noticed that your chest was exposing some cleavage with the tight dress you were wearing, which just added more to the mix. sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and tried his best to cover it

“y/n, sit up” he whispers in your ear, trying to help you out as he can.

‘this situation can’t get any worse’ he thinks to himself (it does)

much to sae’s relief, you actually do sit up on your own. you now stare at sae who was also staring back at you. you can see him open and close his mouth. he was probably talking but you’ve blocked out all of the noise. you could only hear your heart beat beating fast as your eyes trail down from his eyes, to his lips, to the thin gold chain that sits comfortably on his collar bones, to the exposed part of chest that was peaking through thanks to the two unbuttoned buttons on his button down shirt

“y/n are you even listening to me?” sae was getting annoyed. he didn’t go out with you for him to take care of your drunk ass. you could only stare blankly at sae. he gets the message that you weren’t listen to him the entire time he gave a small stern rant about drinking.

sae huffs, grabbing the drink in front of him that he abandoned a little while ago. you noticed his jaw was clenched as he downed the drink in one go. since when did sae get this hot?

at this point the alcohol took over you. the next thing you knew, your lips were on his. sae tries to pull away, “y/n-“ but gets muffled as you continue to kiss him. even going as far as straddling him.

sae still respected you and didn’t put his hands on you. that was until you were tugging his hair on the back of his head. his hands immediately flew onto your waist.

you momentarily pull away to get some air. it was getting stuffy anyway. your arms over sae’s neck. sae was looking at you with wide eyes because, what the fuck just happened. your lipstick was now smudged, he touches his lips and felt the residues of your lipstick

that’s when you officially black out. you head falls on sae’s chest once again but this time you were knocked out cold.

“y/n?” sae calls, tapping your sides because you just stopped moving.

the rest of the night becomes history.

you sit at the kitchen island stunned as the memories come rushing in. sae could only laugh at your face.

“SAE, I’M SO SORRY” you cried out, hands over your face to hide it from sae. you just basically ruined your friendship with sae. there was no returning from this pinnacle moment you’ve shared with sae

“it’s fine” he reassures, finally sitting down next to you. you shook your head no and still spluttered some apologies. you watched sae for his next reaction only to see him chew his food

sae simply pats your head. he uses his other arm to wipe his mouth in case for some crumbs here and there before looking at you in the eye,

“warn me next time when you’re gonna sit on my lap and kiss me like there’s no tomorrow”

[hearts4hughes]

hi bestie bae! could you please do a luke imagine with little freak? congrats on 100 followers btw! i love your writing sm<33

little freak - luke hughes

luke hughes x fem! reader

100 followers celly !!

part 2

warnings: swearing, yelling, a tiny makeout sesh

notes: as usual, the italics are flashbacks (unless used in a sentence to emphasize a word). i struggled to write this, and i did not proofread it, but i probably will in the morning. this takes place for when luke plays for the devils. hope you enjoy reading!

gif is not mine

little freak

jezebel

you sit high atop the kitchen counter

“there’s no way i’m watching breaking bad, again.” you say, propping yourself on top of luke’s counter.

“hey! you can insult any other movie, but do not insult walter white!” he lets out a fake gasp, putting his hand over his mouth before putting the packet of popcorn into the microwave. “what else do you want to watch then?”

“i’m thinking,” a big smile breaks out across your face as you think of the perfect movie, “10 things i hate about you.”

you and luke have been together for three years. your friends tell you it is a ‘love at first sight’ type relationship, and it most definitely was. after your best friend, quinn, introduced you to luke, you both fell for each other. luke knew you liked him, i mean you weren’t very subtle with it. every time he walked into the same room as you, you could barely put a coherent sentence together. luke noticed and thought it was adorable. if he’s honest, he felt the same way when he saw you.

“there’s no way i’m watching that, again!” he mocks, moving so he’s standing in between your legs. he puts his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. your fingers find their way into his curls and your legs lock around his waist.

“please,” you whine like a child, throwing your head into the crook of his neck.

he giggles, considering your movie choice, “fine.” he shakes his head in disbelief. your head shoots out from his neck, a big smile paints your face.

“really?!” your smile is ear to ear as luke nods. quickly, you connect your lips with luke’s. the kiss is passionate and lust filled. his hands move from resting on your hips, to under your butt. he picks you up off the counter. the only thing holding you up is your legs gripped around luke’s body and his hands under your ass.

just as the kiss begins to heat up, the microwave beeping indicates that the popcorn is ready. luke pulls away, taking a moment to admire your now swollen lips and flushed face. he pulls the popcorn bag out of the microwave, opening the top to let some steam come out.

“ready to watch a movie?” he grins, holding his hand out for you to grab.

“of course, my love.” you respond cheekily, grabbing his hand and jumping off the counter.

a wet dream just dangling

but your gift is wasted on me

“am i just some wet dream to you, luke?!” you yell, angry tears falling from your eyes.

“what?! of course not, y/n.” his voice is frustrated, but calm considering the situation. he reaches out to grab you and bring you into a hug, but you back away.

“don’t you fucking touch me!” you scream, wiping your face with your hands. you try to choke back sobs, but they come roaring out.

“baby,”

“i’m not your ‘baby’ anymore, so don’t fucking call me that.” you cut him off and begin walking to your shared bedroom. luke trails behind you, desperate for you not to leave.

“we are still together, you didn’t break up with me yet.” he points out, causing you to whip around.

you let out a sarcastic laugh, “is this not enough indication for you? get it through your little brain that we are over!”

he flinches at your harsh words. tears begin swelling in his eyes, as he is not going to lose you just yet, but instead of saying something then, he just watches you fill up your duffel bag with various clothing items.

“no, please don’t leave!” he drops to his knees, crawling over to you. tears start to pour out of his eyes as you take off his sweatshirt you were wearing and throw it at him. he catches the sweatshirt, looking down to it in his hands. his vision is blurry- so blurry he can barely see- but this was your favorite sweatshirt of his. it was also luke’s favorite, but he barely got to wear it because of how much you loved it.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you start breaking down. your hands fly up to your face, wishing you could stop the tears flooding out of your eyes. “i saw photos of her with you. i don’t give one fuck about how drunk you were, you still kissed her.”

“i didn’t kiss her! she kissed me,” luke argues back. you both sit next to each other on the foot of the bed. the duffel bag falls onto the ground as he wraps his arms around you. “i swear. i don’t want anyone other than you.”

you and luke cry into each others embrace. he presses various small kisses in the crook of your neck, which you once loved, but now felt like nothing to you.

you haven’t felt anything since you saw those photos of luke kissing another girl. you really wished this hug would bring you back to life. revive your relationship with each other, but it truthfully did nothing. it felt like you didn’t have anymore tears to cry.

luke on the other hand, put everything he could into this hug. he knew it might be the last one, but he did everything in his power to bring back that spark.

was this really it?

the second he saw those photos, he knew he fucked up. he was blackout drunk and only remembered the girl coming onto him. the kiss was short as luke basically threw the girl off of him, but someone happened to snap a picture and posted it. luke raced home as fast as he could, wanting to get home to you before you saw the photos, but it was too late. you had been tagged and sent the photo by a thousand different people.

“i’m so sorry.” he cries into your neck. you knew it was an accident, and you knew luke was sorry, but the photo was tattooed into your brain. every time you looked at him, the memory tainted your mind.

“i know you are,” you pull yourself out of his chest to look at him. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot as tears keep pouring out of them. “but we need a break. i need a break.”

before he can protest, you stand up, grabbing your bag and heading out of the bedroom. he shoots to his feet just as you are about to exit through the front door, “i-, i love you.” his sobs make him stutter out the sentence.

in response, you only nod your head- giving him a look of pity- and finally leaving the house.

i was thinking about who you are

your delicate point of view

i was thinking about you

it’s officially been three months since you and luke broke off your relationship officially, and you are both broken.

it’s been hard for you to come home to an empty apartment. you missed the feeling of coming home to luke attempting to cook in the kitchen. or even when you’d come home to him passed out on the couch after a long practice.

i’m not worried about where you are

or who you go home too

i’m just thinking about you

it’s been equally as hard for luke. at first, his mind was filled with thoughts of you coming home to someone else- someone better than him. but as the weeks went on, he started to only think about you. when he passes coffee shops or flower fields, he can’t help, but remember the little things you’d say about them. you always had a delicate point of view for many little things like like that. what he didn’t realize at first, was how much something like this affected him, but it did.

laying on your bed, you scroll through the tv channels in search for something to watch. slowly, you pass by the hockey channels, coming to a sudden stop when you see the devils game. noticing that they are ahead two to zero, you set the remote down, allowing yourself to watch the final minutes of the game. there was barely three minutes left in the game, what’s the harm in watching that?

however, you didn’t seem to realize that luke had scored both the two goals- making him the star of the game. you used to love watching the postgame interviews with luke. it was obvious he was a little camera shy as he was fidgety and kept his answers fast and short, but it was adorable to you. but now as you watch him do the postgame interview, sadness courses through your mind. the interview is barely a minute long, but you can’t even get through five seconds of it before switching the tv off.

on the other side of the tv, luke always wondered if you watched the games and silently supported and cheered him on. in fact, it was the only thing that motivated him to play his very best, but he knew deep down you passed by any and all hockey channels as fast as you could, not even wanting to hear his name.

now an hour after the game, both you and luke, stared at your phones. your finger hovered above luke’s contact name- wanting to call him and confess that you miss him- but you don’t. on the other hand, luke’s thumb stayed hovered over the send button- waiting to send his text that read ‘i miss you. can we try again?’- but he doesn’t send it.

you both know it’s for the better, but it hurts so bad.

[strxnged]

SKZ: # love letter

word count. 5.5k genre. comedy, platonic with a touch of f2l

overview. you find a love letter addressed to you sitting outside your dorm. by the time you realize it's not a prank, you're too caught up in finding your secret admirer to let it go. of the two plausible suspects, there's one person you'd really like it to be — and one you wouldn't. (uni!au)

warnings. 1: i thought it was hilarious. funny, even. so please read it and tell me if you laughed. and if it’s awfully unfunny, let me know that too. i guess it's bangchan x reader x changbin, but you'll have to tell me if that's an exaggeration. 2, i lost all my italics pasting this from google docs so some sentences may read not quite as intended if i missed them! 3, bangchan is addressed as chris for fun

You found the silence of the library stifling, almost exposing, and so instead it was your habit to sit on the wide front steps outside the entrance, as people occasionally walked past and supplied you with enough noise to keep you focused. You were so accustomed to the setting for studying, in fact, that you could notice from the temperature of the concrete what the weather would be like. They always had a sweaty, dewy feel on days that would be hot, and days it would rain they were cold enough to make your legs go numb.

Today, they were freezing. But you would not risk going inside. Your statistics homework would have to wait for you to read the letter you’d found outside your dorm’s door in the hall, presented carefully and clearly enough to be assumed intentional. The envelope was admirably calligraphed with no addressee but a “from your admirer” in the center that you could have sworn would have made it into a Victorian romance. You weren’t sure, at first, whether to open it. 

You were suspicious of things like this, especially at a university such as yours. Romance wasn’t discreet and suitors had no style. A love letter — if indeed the envelope contained what the embellishments suggested — was rarer than a party without alcohol or an RA on floor three without a stick up their ass.

Anticipation coursed through you as your finger ran under the fold, peeling the sealing off neatly. This in itself was a unique experience for you. Sealed envelopes were never quite… the same, after they passed through your hands. Perhaps the author was experienced at this. Perhaps they wrote them as an elaborate prank.

You took the tri-folded letter into your hands. It was typed — of course it was — in a small font with little spacing. Your eyes were dazzled by the number of words, and you were at once convinced that it was either not any kind of a love letter, or was meant for another’s eyes. Nobody could have this much to write about you in the context of romance. 

The letter addressed you inconveniently by your room number. All this could clarify for you was that it wasn’t accidentally placed at the wrong door, though there was still potential for a misinformed author on the resident of that dorm.

“Dear 310,

“I hope you were expecting this. I don’t mean to shock you.

“It will rain today, so I hope you remember to bring an umbrella. You’re the forgetful type. I would like to be the person to remind you of things, you know?

“I’m getting ahead of myself. I wanted you to know, in the case you hadn’t figured this out by this point, that I like you. I fancy you. I am very, very interested in you. But you aren’t in me, are you? I hope this can change. I hope you will keep your eyes off the floor and see me, someday soon. …”

A raindrop landed on the page, leaving a grey spot to distract your eyes. It would rain, and you would have forgotten your umbrella, of course. That was not indicative of the letter really being meant for you, but it did still unsettle you sufficiently.

You didn’t have a chance to resume reading. Your nerves got the best of you at the sound of a pair of heavy footsteps up the stairs, and you wasted no time restoring the letter to the envelope and shoving it between random pages of the textbook resting closed on your lap. The rain was beginning to pick up, now. You normally didn’t mind the weather unless it was wreaking havoc on your work, but the letter had made it a bit eerie.

The rain seemed to stop for a moment, and you looked up to realize a clear umbrella was being held over your head. For a whole three seconds, you froze, wondering if this was the admirer revealing theirself.

“Hey, idiot. Try looking at the forecast before you station yourself out here next time. You and Chris both, I swear.”

“Good morning to you, too, Changbin,” you said, standing up. You allowed the umbrella to cover you. You felt a sense of relief that you didn’t have to deal with awkward romanticisms of meeting the author.  “How was the gym this morning?” You considered telling him about the letter. You would have to finish reading it, first. Usually you told your best friend everything, but this felt a little fresh to be chattered about.

He flashed a dimple and clicked his tongue. “Worried Chris is gonna injure himself. My man is working the deadlift like mad, trying to catch up to my level.”

You giggled, looking Changbin in the eye as he winked at you. “Impossible. He should give up while you’re ahead.”

You processed the wink and froze, again. 

No.

Oh, please, no. 

As Changbin rambled — bragged? — about their push-day routine and the two of you set your course to the closest campus cafe, your head was working a mile a minute trying to make up proof that he wasn’t the author. It couldn’t be him. You had had enough bad luck with guy best friends going wrong, either from your end of theirs. It was always unreciprocated, enough times that it couldn’t possibly occur again. Changbin was the friend you told everything and complained about everything and spent your time off with. His dorm kitchen was basically yours, since neither him or Chris minded you bringing in your own ingredients and restoring their faith in oatmeal cookies.

Oatmeal truthing Computer Science Major and hip-hop truthing Sports Psyc Major, dating? You couldn’t lie. You hated the sound of that. Maybe you were both fairly introverted, and had similar senses of humour and all that. But that was perfect for you being friends. Just friends.

You realized you were clenching your teeth. You directed your attention to Changbin, trying to mentally drop the subject.

“I still don’t get why you don't study in the cafe,” Changbin was saying. “It’s never silent in there.”

The friendly door chime announced your arrival to the Java Day, and the bustle of students in and out proved his point well. But the reason you liked noise wasn’t necessarily for the noise itself, and besides, you had personal reasons for avoiding it. Ones that you would have to ignore for the eight-hundredth time, especially now.

Christopher Bang had no reason to be that adorable in an apron. Brown hair tossed over his left eyebrow, a smile glowing warmer than any drink in the venue. It nauseated you. You swore it was the adrenaline rush of him taking your order that woke you up for the day, not the coffee.

You hated that you even knew his schedule by heart, too. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. All morning shifts. He’d work out with Changbin, go shower, and then by the time you got there, he’d be there, smiling behind the counter. It’s not like you knew all this because you were a stalker. It was because you had a crush on your best friend’s roommate, and the information was freely made available to you especially when you didn’t want it to be.

You couldn’t stand going to the Java Day by yourself on those days. When Changbin and Chris broke into “bro” talk, which was really no different than watching two girls giggle and talk about their weekend plans, you could safely order and sneak a few gazes without suffering from acquainted small talk. 

“Because,” you said, facing Changbin. “Every time I come in here, I buy something. I don’t have the money to buy coffee here more than three times a week, and I cannot study when we stop here together.”

“Then come without me. No, wait, I’d miss you…” He thought for a second. “Just… come in and don’t buy anything, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…” He frowned. “Okay, maybe don’t do that.”

You were thinking the same thing. Bad courtesy. Could get you on the bad side of the baristas, and it would be fatal to get on the bad side of the employees of the best cafe on campus.

“Befriend Chris, and blackmail him into giving you energy bean juice for free.”

“In what world is that a better idea?”

“Come on. Is that not easier than sitting on the freezing stairs in November, accepting rain as your fate when it falls? He’s nice enough.”

“I can’t stop the rain from falling.”

“Oh yeah. And you certainly can’t change how you respond to it, can you?”

“What can I say? I’m stubborn.”

The two of you had reached the front of the line. “Why’s Bin calling you stubborn?” Chan asked with a smirk.

Changbin punched your arm. “Idiot doesn’t know what roofs are.”

“Hmm… Sounds like ignorance, not obstinance.”

“It’s a combination of both,” you defended. “Um, I’d like—”

“Coffee two cream?”

Frick him for knowing your order. You nodded, feeling a bit shy. “Yes, please.”

“And an iced mocha.” Changbin added.

You gave him a look of contempt.

“No, no, I’m paying,” he clarified.

“Yeah, I got that. But you’re getting an iced coffee in November.”

Chris was shaking his head behind the counter. “I think you’re both crazy. That’s eight fifty-five.”

As Changbin paid, Chris offered you a friendly smile, as if to say, Lucky!

You gave him a blank smile and averted your eyes. The way your ears flamed was irrelevant, now. Because why was Changbin paying for your drink today, right after that letter?

You still had to finish reading it. You would be able to figure it out, you were sure, once you finished reading it. You would have enough information to go off of, then.

As you took a seat with your friend at a table, you could hear the titters of girls who had been standing behind you in line. You couldn't quite make out what was being said but it shoved your head back into reality once again. Chris was a flirt on the job, whether it was intentional or not. A great business strategy. You had heard him a few weeks ago talking humbly about his earnings to Changbin in an attempt to convince him to apply to the Java Day.

“All you gotta do is make coffee the best part of their day, man. And you’re handsome, you’d win all their hearts in no time.”

“No way. Shut up.”

“Think about it.”

He hadn’t been successful, but it had made you imagine for about a week what it would be like to work alongside Chris. You might not have the charm capabilities to earn tips, but you could definitely make a cup of coffee. Reality hit you with your course load; your class schedule clashed with Chris’s work schedule, and there was no room for side jobs on top of what you already did. And with that, you also came to realize there was no room to chase someone way out of your league, too.

You were a realist. Romance was hopeless, if not impossible, for you. And that was why, no matter who it was from, you would read the letter and then forget about it.

—

The rest of the letter was, unfortunately for you, a great deal of meaningless romantic statements — about your eyes, your smile, your devotion to studying. Things that could really apply to anyone who studied in public. Some general statements about being too shy to ask you out in person — as any person writing a love letter might say. And a strange reiteration of something you must have said to this person, something that was vague enough that you had no way to believe it wasn’t you. The part that got you worried, though, was when suddenly went down a more uncomfortable route.

“I know you don’t have any roommates. That must be terribly lonely and quiet. I want to change that for you.”

The level of overall detail in the letter was both confusing and uncomfortable for you. It was more stalkerish than flattering. How did they know about your aversions to silence? And why did that remark have to come across so suggestively? You were also disturbed by the closing request to meet in person.

“I would like to talk to you in person, to apologize for this method of getting in contact with you and answer your questions. And then maybe you can answer mine. Would you fall in love with me too?

“If you’ll meet me, put this letter outside your door where you found it. Let’s meet tomorrow (Saturday) evening at eight, at your favourite place — the Java Day. It’s usually quiet by then, isn’t it?”

You hated it.

However, contrary to your conviction to simply forget about it, you did just as the instructions were asking. You knew curiosity would get the best of you. And, honestly, you were a bit invested in whatever was going on.

You had to have backup, though. You called Changbin, asked him if he was busy Saturday night.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your voice sounds weird. And you’re calling me almost midnight.”

“I’m fine. Just gotta talk to you about something.”

“I’m coming over if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

You considered this. “I’ll come to you and explain.” It would be easier if you both knew what was up.

—

“A what?”

“Changbin, please,” you said, trying not to laugh. “You heard me. So, will you do it?”

“You got a what?” he asked again, eyes wide and jaw dropped comically.

“Come on, Changbin, you gotta do this for me. Otherwise I’ll think it was you who sent it.”

“Ain’t no way…” he said. He was sitting backwards in a chair from the communal area’s table, and he leaned away from the chair back while holding onto it. “No way.”

“I’m hurt. You don’t think anyone’s capable of falling for me?”

He crooked his eyebrows at you. “No, I don’t think anyone on the entire campus is capable of that kind of class.”

He had a point. Still. “I wouldn’t call it class. It was kind of creepy.”

“It could be worse. You wouldn’t believe what happens to Chris when we go to floor four.”

You didn’t want to know what happened to Chris when they went to floor four. “I still don’t get why they put the partiers on the floor above the quiet floor.”

“I think it’s a scheme to make the students feel helpless. And set them against each other.”

“You know, you could be right. Back to the letter…”

Changbin smiled and looked you straight in the eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Here, I’ll show you. I will literally go get it, I just had it outside my dorm.”

You went into the hallway and scanned the carpet in front of your door. To make proving any point to Changbin harder, it was gone. It was very much gone. The carpet was devoid of any calligraphed envelopes and romantic notes. Damn, you should have at least taken a picture. You pursed your lips, looking the other way down the hall.

“Hey, Oatmeal.”

Chris. He was approaching his and Changbin’s door with a weird expression on his face.

“Hi,” you said.

“It’s pretty late. Why are you wandering the halls?”

“I… can’t explain.”

“You’re mysterious. Studying on the library steps, majoring in computer science, wandering up and down the hall late at night….”

“What’s the matter with computer science?”

“Mental torture?”

“Fair point. Listen, just get inside the dorm and I’ll explain. I was just… well…”

He unlocked the door, raising an eyebrow at you. “You were just…?”

“You found your love letter?” Changbin asked from inside.

Chris opened the door the rest of the way. “My what?”

“Oh, Chris! You won’t believe this.”

“My what, Bin?”

You followed him inside, made eye contact with Changbin who was on the verge of bursting into laughter, and looked sulkily at the floor as he started to chuckle.

“The hell’s goin’ on?”

“I can explain,” you said. “Just give me a chance.”

Changbin recovered and invited Chris to come and sit. “Where’ve you been, Chris?”

He sucked in his teeth, dragging over a chair to imitate his roommate’s position. “I was in the library studying for a Bio quiz on monday. They had to come over and tell me they were closing up.”

“Nerd.”

“Yeah, whatever. At least I’m doing my homework.”

Changbin pressed his lips together, unable to respond.

“So,” you said. “This morning, I was about to leave my dorm and head to the library—”

“Library steps, you mean,” Chris said.

“Oh, don’t start,” you said with an annoyed smile. “I was leaving my dorm when I found something on the ground. An envelope. So I went and I read it, and it was a love letter. And boy it was long—”

“Are you bragging?” Changbin asked.

“No! I just—”

“It sort of sounds like you’re bragging.” Chris said.

Your ears went red and you put the heel of your hands on your forehead to combat the response. “You guys are useless. Let me finish.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

“I’d love to hear more, but I had actually better get to bed,” Chris said. “Keep me updated.”

“Goodnight, Chris.”

“‘Night, pal.”

He bid you both goodnight and disappeared into his dorm. You took the chair he’d pulled out and sat on it like a normal person. “I was going to ask if you sent it. But you’ve made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t you.”

“No. I’d never ask you out like that.”

“Would you ever ask me out?”

“Debatable.”

You paused. “Would Chris?”

Changbin’s face turned serious. “Well, I’m not quite sure. I don’t think that’s his style.”

You eyed his door. “Seemed a bit weird how he just left once he realized what this was about.”

He thought about it, matching your gaze. “Mmm. I think he’s just tired.”

You didn’t know whether you wanted it to be Chris. On one hand, it would make a little sense. He knew you well enough in comparison to most of your classmates, and if it wasn’t Changbin… But, no, it would be horrendous to find out it was him. That letter was hardly as glamorous as it aspired to be. You liked to think that Chris was incapable of writing such a monstrosity.

He’d had such a weird expression in the hallway. Did you dare suspect him of being the author, of being the one to take it?

“Either way. I guess I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

“I thought you said it was a—”

“That’s why I want you to come. Just show up, after, like, half an hour. If I’m being stood up, we can have coffee together and laugh at the person who wrote it for being a coward.”

He thought about this. “Fine. 8:30?”

You got up, flashing him a thumbs-up. “Just know that if nobody shows up I’m going to keep suspecting you and Chris.”

“Chill. I really, really don’t think that’s the case.”

He sounded almost too certain. As you approached the door, you looked back at him. “Chris doesn’t have a — a love interest of his own, does he?”

“Nah. He’s the king letting people down gently.”

“That’s a wonderful trait. We should all be more like Chris.”

“Are you excited?” Changbin asked you.

“Why would I be excited?”

“First date in, like, a year.”

You sighed. “Oh, shut up. No.”

“I’m curious, though.”

You turned the doorknob. “Yeah. Me too.”

—

You had somehow managed to forget about it by the next morning, so the little paper reading “See you tonight!” with a smiley face drawn at the end was a very effective jumpscare. You knew in that moment, peering into the eyes of the crude expression, that you were doomed to have concentration issues for the rest of the day.

Minutes crawled past, probably due to both anticipation and dread. You were useless; you were cursed. What was the purpose of love letters, anyways? Why couldn’t people just say how they felt to each other’s faces? But then… you were hardly one to talk.

You couldn’t get Chris’s face out of your head all day. Either he knew something, he was the something, or your imagination was far too active. One thing you were sure of, though, was that you really didn’t have the time to think about it. Piles of assignments were due Monday, and a group project Wednesday.

Oh, you hadn’t thought of that. What if it was someone from your group?

But after quick deliberation, you were pretty sure the guy in your group, Minho, was dating someone. You even asked him to make sure, and he confirmed a steady five-week relationship. The girls in the group didn’t swing the right way. Besides, it was unlikely that a Computer Science Major would have anything to do with this.

What if it was Chris?

The question kept coming back. You finally came to a conclusion that such images that were floating into your head at the prospect needed to be shut down properly, so in any case, you would have to give him an opportunity to “let you down gently” to save yourself to heartache later on. This could not continue. And you needed to be able to go to the coffee shop without sweating out your very being. 

You traveled to the coffee shop at 7:45. It wasn’t that you were afraid of being late. You were afraid of being alone with your own thoughts for those last fifteen minutes.

When you got the Java Day, you did the biggest double take of your life.

No, this wasn’t right. He only worked three days a week!

Did you know this for sure? It’s not like you’d ever gone here at eight o’clock on a Saturday, so…

Whatever the case was, there was no doubt that Chris was standing behind the counter in a fairly empty coffee shop and he was waving at you as you stepped through the door. This did not make sense, and you could feel yourself malfunctioning and forgetting how to walk.

“Chris?”

“Yes?” he said. 

You made your way to the counter, unable to form any sentences. 

“You know, you shouldn’t drink caffeine late at night.” He looked at you earnestly. “Cramming for something?”

“No, I’m…” You paused, squinting at him. “Yeah. Got a lot of work to do.”

“Gotcha. What’ll it be, then?”

“Espresso, please.”

“You're crazy. Two ninety.”

He didn't know. Thank the heavens, he had no clue what was going on. He thought you were cramming.

Honestly, you should be cramming. A different kind of horror set in, though, realizing that Christopher Bang was going to have a front row seat to whatever would be going down.

You embraced it, taking the window seat closest to the counter. On one hand, yeah, he might witness some things you wished he wouldn't. But on the other, the whole situation was making you nervous and rather alright with sitting closer to someone who wasn't writing you creepy letters.

Chris set your espresso in front of you. “You alright? You look kinda spaced out.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just dreading the work I’ve gotta do tonight.”

Chris leaned on the counter, tilting his head. “Do you study with anyone?”

“Nope. In case you haven’t figured it out, Changbin’s study habits aren’t exactly…”

“Consistent. Yeah.”

“So I just do it by myself.”

“I hope you don’t plan to go and sit on the steps in the dark.”

You sipped the espresso, making a bit of a scowl at the potency. “No. It’s not busy enough at night.”

“Oh, I see. You like blending in.”

He got it. “Yeah. For some reason, actually being inside the library sure doesn’t do that for me.”

“Almost too quiet, eh?”

“Almost?” you said. “It’s deafening.”

“Well, um…” Chris glanced at the door for a second. He seemed almost… shy. What the hell? “If you need someone to, you know. Help you feel less alone while you’re studying. I can help you out. I’ve got stacks of notes to write up, I wouldn’t be distracting…” He held his palms up and his fingers danced, almost like a tiny jazz hands gesture. “I mean, only if you want.”

You were absolutely sure now that this could not be the same person who wrote the sentence “I am very, very interested in you” and certainly not the kind to make a suggestive comment about the silence in your dorm. All the same, he was inviting you, rather shyly, to hang out. To study together. Did he ask just anyone to study with him? And this was all three— no, two minutes from when you were supposed to meet someone confessing their love for you.

The answer you would give him was obvious.

But before you had the chance, you heard the Java Day’s entrance bell. Was this it? You wouldn’t dare look away from Chris, you could feel panic rising in your chest. It would be half an hour still before Changbin showed up. You should have told him to just come with you in the first place, really.

Chris looked away from you at the new customer.

“Chrisssss!”

You felt your panic sink back to where it came from, replaced by a sort of uncomfortable disgust.

“Hi?”

“Heyyyy!”

Either this girl was drunk or very, very air-headed. The cafe had been moderately quiet before her grand entrance.

“Do we know each other!”

“Of course we do! It’s me.”

You watched this interaction with interest.

“Who’s ‘me’?” He seemed to be attempting to hold a smile on his face and be friendly, but he was clearly confused.

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

Even you were confused at this point.

“C’monnnn… three-ten!”

You almost shot out of your chair, asserting yourself into the conversation. “Three-ten?!”

The girl eyed you for a moment. Half of her bubbliness dissolved. “Stay out of it, sweetheart.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head.

“I’m sorry, do you want something?”

“Yes, please, Chris.”

No way.

Your attention from the conversation next to you was stolen by the chime ringing again. Changbin spotted you and took the chair across from you. “Where’s the person? It’s 8:10.”

“You’re early. Um…”  You didn’t know what to say.

You looked between him and the conversation happening a few feet away, not sure whether to laugh or cry. You settled on drinking your espresso with a distressed expression. Changbin was watching Chris and the girl.

She was the author. You figured that much out, now. And he was the — he was the intended recipient.

You set down the espresso shot glass, aware your hands were shaking. You covered your mouth with one hand. It was all too much.

You got even the attention of the girl. Really, you hated being the center of attention and so it was hardly on purpose to laugh as loudly as you were. It was ridiculous. You made eye contact with Changbin and he suddenly understood, somehow. He began to chuckle, too, shaking his head.

Chris was watching you two, and then studied the girl carefully. “You were at that party last weekend…” he said. “Right?” Both you and Changbin shut up, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Yes! And then I asked you for your number, ‘n’ you wouldn’t give it to me, so I… Chris, I didn’t know you worked here. But you’re here. So, do you have an answer?”

You were so tempted to say something. But you were also incredibly interested in how he might respond.

“Remind me your name again?”

“Adilene! I was in your Biology class.”

You and Changbin made eye contact and he mouthed “was.” You made a face of despairing efforts not to laugh. You failed.

“Listen, Chris,” she said, “I’m sorry about the letter. It was a bit of a dare, but I also had no other way to contact you. But do you think…” Adilene looked very obviously at you and Changbin, and you both stared right back at her. “... We could go to your dorm to continue discussing this after your shift? I thought it would be emptier here.”

“This— this late on a Saturday night? I don’t think my roommate would appreciate that,” he said.

“You said you didn’t have any roommates.”

“Did I?” He frowned, and then gasped in realization. “I did. Oh, well, I’m sorry. That wasn’t true. I, um…”

“He says that to reel you in,” Changbin volunteered. “It’s a fun game of his. He likes to pretend I don’t exist.”

“You—huh?”

“That’s… that’s my roommate,” Chris admitted. He looked like he was done with the conversation. While Adilene’s attention was in your direction, you took the opportunity to introduce yourself. You stood up and offered her your hand. 

“Hi,” you said. “I’m their neighbour. One and only resident of three-ten. I got your letter. I really didn’t like the part where you said you had the hots for me.”

Really, it was a fairly innocent letter, although wrong. You felt a bit of sympathy for her. Except, no, you didn’t. You could feel sympathy for her later, right now you were in stitches over her terrified expression.

Chris’s expression was one very large “oh.”

“Your dorm… isn’t three-ten?” Adilene turned to him. She seemed to be receding into herself, somehow. Her overarching “charms” were retracting.

“Nope. Three-twelve.”

The three of you watched her take a whole step back, look at the door, and make a dash for it as if one of you were planning on chasing her. The cafe sat in silence for a few seconds before you and Changbin exploded into laughter. Chris leaned over the counter, head in hands.

“Chris,” Changbin said, catching his breath, “do you want to come over here and explain yourself?”

He made eye contact with you, a bewildered smile on his face, and ran his hand through his hair. “Not sure how much of what just happened I understood, unfortunately.”

“Really?” you interjected. “Not even the part where she said…” You pitched your voice up, “‘Chrisssss’?”

“Is this what goes on at parties when I don’t show? You tell girls I don’t exist and give them the wrong room number?”

“Bin.” He was physically cringing, utter distress on his face. He looked at you and then looked away. You had never seen Chris blush. He looked humiliated.

“I feel like I’m watching you go through the five stages of grief. I think Kubler Ross got ‘em right. Look, here comes anger.”

“Bin, shut up!” he wailed. “I… I just…”

You spoke up. “Why my room number? I’ve been so confused…”

“I didn’t tell anyone my room number!” He pulled his phone out of his apron’s pocket. “Look! She must have seen this… It’s my birthday…” Sure enough, the back of his phone said 0-3-1-0.

You squinted at it. “You sociopath. Why on earth do you use day before month?”

“Because it matches my room number. You know. Three-ten, three eleven… Why does it matter, anyways…”

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Changbin asked Chris.

“Because that was uncomfortable! You’d feel the same.”

“However many girls throw themselves at you, and you get embarrassed…” Changbin tsked and shook his head. “Is it because you feel competition with me that you don’t tell girls I’m your roommate?”

He sighed. “You would think that. No, it’s because it usually makes girls wonder what I must have done so wrong that my roommate moved out.”

“What are you implying about living alone?” you asked.

He threw his hands up. “Look, it works.”

“Yeah, on the smart ones,” Changbin pointed out.

The three of you gave Adilene a moment of silence for implicitly not being one of that demographic.

“I have so many questions left,” you said. “Most of them would be directed at her. And most of them, I wouldn’t like to know the answer to.”

“What was in that letter?” Chris asked.

You looked him dead in the eye. “I think it’s better you didn’t know.” You recalled how he acted about it last night, and you had to ask: “How come you didn’t want to know last night?”

He glanced at Changbin and then at the table. “I was just tired.”

“He was jealous, man.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were.”

“Don’t be weird.”

Chris finally looked you in the eye and you knew Changbin was telling the truth. 

“I saw her last night, I think,” he finally said. “I saw her rounding the corner, and then I saw you in the hall. I could have sworn she giggled at me.”

“That’s why you were…”

But you didn’t have a chance to dwell on it, as someone walked into the cafe. It was Minho, from your group that met earlier over the project.

“Hey, guys. Chris, have you seen my girlfriend? She said she was meeting someone in here — we just had a fight…”

“Who’s your girlfriend?”

“Adilene Kauffer.”

At this, you picked up your espresso and downed the rest of it in one shot.

Chris cleared his throat. “Minho, my friend. I think… I think you should sit down.”

note. ok so that happened. i ummmm. i lost my mind writing this. i was cackling. so i hope you laughed too lmao. lowkey thinking of writing more for this, these four could be pretty chaotic........... anyways. weird writing fanfics for real people. or at all. it’s been like 8 months since i did that. also there are so many loose ends i still haven’t gotten a chance to tie together and realized i cannot do that in a short fic lmao. tagging @aunty-tiger-potato​ for the barista!chan (not that there’s much of that actually happening here).

reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you for reading!

[sm-entertain-me]

Vital Points (M)

Synopsis: While Jiwoo is away being the good little mole she can for Mujin, another prolific female joins the inner rankings of Dongcheon. Seeing how far she’s progressed in such a short time, Mujin arranges for some one on one time to test her training… and her resolve. (Based on the hit Netflix series My Name starring Park Heesoon, Han Sohee, and Ahn Bohyun. Italics indicate past flashbacks.)

Contains: Choi Mujin x (f) reader, adult language, explicit depictions of sex, unprotected sex, marking kink, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie.

Requested to be tagged: @tammykelly @ineffablebean​ @nadinee2607​

Note: I am so whipped for Choi Mujin and Do Gangjae, the literal worst people in the series but definitely hot enough to let them ruin my lives. They actually inspired me to start writing smut again lol.

Weeks had passed since you had become a member of Dongcheon, but you were still the lowest ranking recruit in the whole organization. You were easily the smallest out of all your counterparts considering they were all men that had muscles to back up their ferocity in weekly brawls. Because of your size, you were always the first one targeted in the aforementioned weekly brawls, many of the men teaming up to beat you down. In the first two weeks the brawls took place within the Dongcheon gym, Taeju or one of the other higher ranking henchmen would immediately intervene and broke up the brawl due to the unfairness of the usual five guys on one girl. But as the weeks went on, you were able to overcome them all and hold your own, no longer needing to hide behind Taeju... Or anyone for that matter. 

But there was always room for improvement. No matter how hard you trained, you still lacked special skills to really win the brawls for a chance at vacation that nearly every other member has achieved. You didn’t have enough power to really push through and keep your enemies down. You had heard that there was another female recruit that was in your same position, but there was a rumor that she died a long time ago after two of the members tried to go after her and rape her. She died and the perpetrator got his face mangled by Dongcheon’s ruthless ruler: Choi Mujin.

Mujin saw potential in you when he saw you begging for your life in front of the Liber casino. You had just been jumped and had all your money stolen by some classmates of yours that knew you were in dire straights, so they knew you wouldn’t have gone to the police. The money you had gotten wasn’t obtained by innocent and honest means so reporting that people jumped you and stole money that rightfully belonged to the bank of Seoul probably wouldn’t have gotten you far with the authorities. But that’s why you went to Choi Mujin in the first place. You knew he hated cops as much as you did and, given that you were in a scenario that would’ve ultimately led to a life-debt being established, you knew he wasn’t going to resist having someone’s life in the palm of his hand.

“Please sir, you h-have to help me,” You begged into the intercom of the building, none of the usual guards keeping watch like you had seen before. You we hurt badly and could feel the blood pouring out of the gaping laceration in your abdomen, taking your non-bloody hand and pounding on the solid gold side door of the hotel. As you continued banging on the door, you suddenly felt your legs give out and collapsed to the ground, certain you were to die of blood loss. As your eyes threatened to close and signal your life was ending, you saw a man in a dark suit lean down to your level, throwing you over his shoulder until your vision blurred completely.

That was the day Choi Mujin saved your life. He saw your frail figure bleeding out on his property through his CCTV cameras installed on the perimeter of his building. He had heard your plea as he was conversating with Taeju, quickly being distracted by the desperation in your voice. You weren’t desperate for help; you were just desperate to live. Mujin saw your tenacity and cut his conversation with Taeju short, immediately rising to his feet to bring you inside before he lost another potential recruit to strengthen Dongcheon. He already knew Jiwoo was a success, perhaps you could be her successor...

A loud thud sounded through the gym as you threw a particularly powerful roundhouse kick into the punching bag, quickly planting your foot down to shift your momentum for punching combinations. You were the only one in the gym at this hour and therefore had free range to be as loud and obnoxious as you wanted. This was your chance to throw caution to the wind and really let out on the bag in hopes of getting your strength up to finally win a brawl. You were tired of coming in top five all the time. And, in all honesty, you just wanted to impress Mujin. Just as you were lining up for another flurry of punches on the bag, you heard a calming voice call out from the dark corner of the gym, “You need to shift more weight in your hips.”

Frightened by the potential intruder, you quickly kneeled down to grab the knife you kept in your sock at all times, drawing the blade and turning to where you heard the voice. Your eyes narrowed to the corner and made out a figure with broad shoulders, but that’s all you could see as the man’s face was obscured and you couldn’t see his clothes. But something about his voice was familiar and you could feel your grip relax slightly, but still making sure to keep your eyes trained on the corner until the figure made themselves known.

Seeing your apprehensiveness grow by the second, the figure finally came out from the darkness and stepped into the bright light hovering over the middle of the arena. Once you saw who the person was, you immediately sheathed your knife and bowed at 90 degrees to the man who saved your life weeks ago, “Oh, sir. Forgive me, I didn’t know who you were at first. I thought you were an intruder or something.”

Your replies were met with amused chuckles from Mujin as he walked closer to you, signaling for you to come out of your bowing position, “That’s quite alright. I was just coming down to see how you were progressing. Many of the recruits say that you’re trying to win the brawls to get vacation time. Others say you’re just trying to impress me. Either way, I’m here to help you with some tips and tricks on how to overpower your opponent.”

Mujin motioned for your to join him in the middle of the caged arena where you shed blood weekly to prove yourself to your boss, slowly unbuttoning his tailored suit. Your feet hesitated as you simply watched as Mujin unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing a thin white dress shirt that already had some buttons down. Next came Mujin’s tie, his eyes meeting yours as he tore it away from his neck, the veins in his neck bulging out in the most attractive way. With a halted breath, you turned away and finally joined Mujin in the middle of the arena like he asked.

“You seem distracted,” Mujin commented as he studied your body language, noticing how you avoided eye contact with him as he began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. As he did so, you could see his Dongcheon symbol branded on his pectoral muscle, the buttons going a little bit lower to reveal the top part of his toned stomach. Of course you’re distracted, and Mujin is clearly onto you.

“N-No sir,” You stammered as you finally picked your eyes up from the floor and were met with the cold yet affirming eyes of Mujin. His eyes seemed to travel from your bare midriff, to your hips, and all the way down your toned legs, all the way back up to your eyes. Mujin didn’t say a word as he simply moved toward you, him now standing two feet from you instead of two meters. 

“You don’t have enough strength to beat them,” Mujin mused simply, looking at your arms and noticing that although they were toned, you didn’t have nearly enough muscle mass to back up your punches as much as the other members did. “You’ll have to focus on attacking your opponent’s vital points. Do you remember how many there are and what they are?” Mujin asked sternly, signaling that if you were paying attention like you were supposed to, you definitely would’ve known what he was talking about. 

Memories of your training flooded back in pieces, the memories of martial arts training being more prevalent than that of the spoken lessons in class since you were only concerned about getting stronger and overcoming your enemies. Sadly, you wouldn’t be able to tell Mujin where the vital points are, but you can tell him how many there are.

“Sir, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can only tell you how many. I can’t tell you where they are,” You admitted halfheartedly, purposely avoiding eye contact with Mujin by simply staring at the Dongcheon emblem on his bare chest, slightly mad at yourself for not paying attention. You could tell that Mujin was waiting for you to tell him what you did know by the awkward silence that hung between you, you quickly responding the minute you picked up on his silent command, “There are five vital points, sir.”

“Very good,” Mujin praised, smiling proudly as he moved closer to you. “But I’m still going to have to show you where they are.”

Mujin then raised his hand as if you strike you, but you didn’t flinch. You wanted to prove that you had grown into something that Mujin should be proud of, you wanted to prove that he made the right choice with you. As Mujin watched your lack of flinching, he simply smirked as he then took a piece of your hair and brushed it behind your ear, sending shivers up your spine. He then placed his hand on the side of your face, touching two fingers to the side of your head as he simply muttered, “Temple.”

You didn’t say as word as Mujin’s hand then caressed your face, his eyes looking deep into yours as you melted into his hand. You swore you could see the cold eyes Choi Mujin soften as he then traced his finger across your plump lips, smearing a small bit of your saliva across wherever Mujin’s thumb connected with. Your breath was now nonexistent as you looked up at Mujin, waiting to see what he would do next. Mujin smirked as he saw your pupils dilate and your lip start to tremble against his thumb, “Upper lip.”

As Mujin’s thumb lay on your lips, something came over you and convinced you that it would be a good idea for you to do what you did next. In a fit of passionate oversight, your lips parted and enveloped Mujin’s lengthy digit into your mouth. You thought this was going to cause Mujin to rip his thumb out of your mouth and smack you, but you were met with Mujin sighing softly in response, loving the way your tongue would glide along his digit. He simply watched as you sucked generously on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him to show your intentions, which happened to turn him on even more. 

After a sickening pop of Mujin removing his thumb from deep inside of your mouth, you looked up at Mujin with doe eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. A smirk painted itself on Mujin’s face as he grabbed ahold of your face, caressing your chin with the thumb you were just sucking on. He then pulled you closer to him, watching your eyes fall close as you were about to give everything you had to him, making sure to keep your lips millimeters apart from each other before he whispered, “Chin.” 

There was a glimmer of hesitation that washed over Mujin’s face as he stared deeply into your eyes, unsure of if he really wanted to continue. You were his underling after all. There’s no doubt in his mind that all of the other recruits would lose trust in you and claim you only got to where you were because of sleeping with the boss, not because of the amount of heart and dedication you had put into this organization. But feelings of lust seemed to throw all rationality out of the window as Mujin tightened his grip on your chin and closed the space between your lips.

You don’t remember when you were backed up against the chain link fence of the arena, but you didn’t really seem to care as your fingers tangled into Mujin’s onyx hair tinged with silver. Strands of his hair continued to be wrapped tightly around your fingers as he started to kiss down your neck, leaving small pink blossoms in his wake. Euphoria was pumping through your veins as you watched Mujin with hooded eyes as he continued to mark your neck, eventually capturing your clavicle in between his teeth to hear you moan deliciously.

Fueled by your moans and hitching breath, Mujin continued to mark you as his and only his, not even caring that the other recruits would most definitely see the contusions on your skin. When he felt as if he was satisfied with his work on your neck and clavicle area, his eyes fell to your plump breasts that were practically begging to be release from their cloth confines. The corner of Mujin’s lip turned up into a smirk as he reached out and grabbed your flimsy sports bra in one hand, quickly yanking down to rip the piece of clothing to release your breasts much to the satisfaction of Mujin. After a small sigh from the initial reaction of seeing your breasts, Mujin placed his hand in between them and whispered, “Solar plexus.” 

You could feel yourself losing your mind as Mujin licked his lips, his eyes traveling all over you and making sure to star extra long at your breasts. As Mujin was undressing you with his eyes, he simply looked into your eyes and sighed, “I would love to continue this here and show you the last vital point... But I can’t have Taeju watching us all night.” A little disappointed, you nodded at your boss’ request, moving to zip your jacket up since the sports bra was no longer functioning. Just as you were about to hook the zipper though, you felt Mujin’s hands grip onto your wrists, forcing you to look up at him, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take you to my penthouse to show you, babygirl.”

The car ride to the Liber hotel and casino was very short as Mujin sped his way through traffic, his hand gripping your thigh tightly as he focused on rushing through as many red lights as possible to have you all to himself. He had been waiting for a chance to get you all hot and bothered for him, but he never had the right time to. Tonight was much different than any other night, and he was about to make it a night to remember for you both.

When the two of you arrived to the penthouse suite of the casino, you were met with two sets of high ranking Dongcheon henchmen, bowing ninety degrees to show the utmost respect for their leader. Then they got a look at you, confused as to what to do with you. They each knew you from training, but they don’t know how to address you. You were clearly a guest of Mujin’s, so they had no other choice but to bow to you as well. A small smirk made its way to your face as you continued to follow behind Mujin, excited for what was in store for you.

As you entered the lavish entry way of Mujin’s penthouse, your hand was immediately gripped by Mujin’s as he began to lead you down the long hallway to what you were assuming was his bedroom. But before the two of you entered, Mujin stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face you, placing both hands on your arms to hold you in place and stare into your eyes, “Y/N, I need you to understand that if we do this, there is no going back. You will belong to me.”

“I’ve belonged to you the day I met you.”

Mujin smiled devilishly as he nodded, satisfied with your answer and your willingness to be with him. Certain of your decision, Mujin then placed a kiss on your forehead before turning to the gold French doors of his bedroom. He slowly pulled the doors open to reveal the most lavish bedroom you had ever seen; a California King bed that was dripping in red satin sheets, a mirror hanging on the ceiling, and gold accents that would make King Midas jealous. Mujin then turned to you as he was already unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt, “Get on the bed for me and I’ll show you the last vital point, babygirl.”

Being the good girl you were, you eagerly skipped to the bed in the middle of the room, laying on your back and waiting for further instruction from Mujin. When you looked up, you saw that Mujin had already discarded his shirt and was now fumbling with his belt, sliding the leather out of his belt loops and wrapping it tightly around his veiny hands. Mujin could see your eyes widen immediately from the scene but quickly reassured you, “Don’t worry dear, I won’t be using this on you... Tonight.”

Clothes were thrown every which way as Mujin had already joined you, his bare body pinning you down to the mattress as you two shared a passionate makeout session. Your tongues were exchanging saliva at a rapid rate while Mujin slipped his fingers in between your legs, tracing figure eights into your painfully swollen clit. Mujin knew exactly how to get you to your breaking point and was determined to push you past it.

“Does that feel good baby?” Mujin asked, already getting his answer by the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull, his fingers quickly picking up speed to prolong the sexiest look he had ever seen from you. You wanted to answer him with your own words, but you were starting to see stars as Mujin switched to having his thumb toy with your clit as two fingers slipped inside of your pulsing pussy. Mujin curled his fingers up so he could hit your G-spot, stroking up into your walls until he felt you open up just enough for him to fill you with something else.

Satisfied with the state he left you in, Mujin denied your impending orgasm from his fingers and pulled his hand away from you, but not before looking at the thick sheen on his fingers and then licking your essence off. You swore you could’ve cum from the eye contact he was making with you as his tongue swirled between his digits, but you were glad you didn’t as Mujin gave himself two quick pumps to his already leaking cock that was to be buried deep inside of you.

As Mujin stroked himself to his full length that was more than impressive to say the least, Mujin then turned his attention to you again, nestling his lower half in between your legs. He was enamored by the way your pussy was glistening, licking his lips at the sight and really wanting to taste you, but that would be for a different time. Right now, all Mujin wanted to do was bury himself deep inside of you and fuck your imprint into his mattress to always be reminded of this night. “Groin.”

Mujin then sheathed his cock inside of you, pushing inch by inch the more you became relaxed with him. You were already turned on beyond repair so it wasn’t that hard for Mujin to slip inside of you, but you were still pleasantly tight enough for Mujin to bury his face into your neck and moan huskily into your ear. You could feel his body shiver in pleasure just from entering you, smirking slightly to yourself. But that smirk was quickly replaced with a look of pure ecstasy as Mujin gripped the headboard above you, pumping his cock deep inside of you.

“F-Fuck Mujin,” You gasped as you struggled to find purchase on the satin sheets below you, Mujin reaching down momentarily to place your hands on his broad shoulders, as if to tell you to hold on. Obeying his silent command, you gripped onto his shoulders as Mujin took his free hand to pin your hip to the mattress, throwing himself deeper inside of you and hitting all the right spots.

As Mujin’s cock dragged along your walls, you could feel yourself getting ready for your first orgasm of the night. Mujin looked down through hooded eyes to see your eyebrows knitting together and your mouth hanging open, letting out the sexiest moans he had ever heard. This only made Mujin hone in his strokes, smacking his hips against yours to fill the room with sounds of pure sin. Mujin took his other hand from the headboard to grip your other hip to keep you right where he wanted as he continued his lusty assault on your pussy. That’s when the band snapped.

Your orgasm washed over you intensely, so intensely that you had arched your back off of your mattress to the point that your pert nipples connected with Mujin’s glistening body, crying out for Mujin and sinking your nails deep into Mujin’s honeyed skin. Moans spilled out of you pathetically as your nails dragged down Mujin’s back, him continuing to pump his cock inside of your trembling pussy. He was desperately trying to chase your orgasm with his own, but he wouldn’t mind fucking you for as long as he possibly could. “On your hands and knees baby girl.

Although you wanted to protest with him since he had just rocked your world and you were in no shape to be moving, Mujin slid himself out of your slick to make you do what he said or you wouldn’t be cumming again. Sighing in protest, you slowly rose to your knees and turned away from Mujin, but now before he cupped your face and gave you a passionate kiss as a reward for being so compliant. The second you got on your hands and knees though, a new Mujin came forward.

Mujin’s hands gripped either side of your hips forcefully, stabilizing himself before he rammed himself into your walls with no proper warning. But surprisingly, you didn’t scream out from the sudden intrusion. Instead, you moaned out in pure pleasure, lurching forward and barely being held up by your elbows as your back was bent in the most attractive angle to Mujin. That’s what he lost himself in you.

Lust completely took over his brain as Mujin leaned forward to grip your hair, yanking you up so that your back lay flush against his chest, continuing to pump himself deep inside of you. “Come on baby. I want you to cum again,” Mujin demanded as he gripped your hair tighter, earning more moans from you as you approved of this rough and dominate side of him. Mujin then let your hair go so that you could fall forward again, but this time he leaned forward to push your head into the mattress and angle his hips downward to get a deeper thrust.

“Mujin!” You cried out into the pillow as you came for the second time tonight, gripping onto the sheets so tight that your knuckles had turned white from the tension. You walls pulsed tightly around Mujin’s cock as you screamed out for him, shuddering hard around him and milking his cock until you got what you wanted. Shortly after you had came, Mujin finally came inside of you, ropes of cum painting your slick walls with his essence. He had been waiting to do this for weeks now and he can’t wait to get even more of you.

As the night had began to wind down and you were all showered up thanks to Mujin washing your hair and wiping away certain body fluids in the shower, you found yourself sitting in Mujin’s arms, looking in the mirror that was opposite his bed. Mujin’s arms were wrapped tightly around you as he placed his lips softly on your arm, pecking you quickly before raising his head and looking at your eyes in the mirror, “You and I were meant to be together, my love. And as long as we’re together, nothing can stop us.” You liked the sound of that.

[nagichi-boop]

Psychonauts fanfic - Overworked (Pt.1)

[ x ] - [Part 2]

Of course the best thing to do when finishing all the playthroughs for Psychonauts is to write a comfort fic lol.

Just a quick note for when you read this: a dash “-“ between paragraphs indicates a switch between what scene we are in (so if there are characters in different places, a dash indicates we are going to where another character is) or a change in time. Any speech written in italics indicate that it was communicated telephathically.

Spoilers for Psychonauts 1 and 2

— x —

“Pootie? Little Pootie, are you up, baby?” Donatella called out to the caravan, which Raz had been convinced to sleep in the night before. He had a dorm within the Motherlobe now that he was a Junior Psychonaut, but given the events of the past few days, his parents urged him to sleep in his old room as it would be more familiar to him. Deep down, Raz wanted to sleep in his new dorm as a fresh start, but seeing the worry on his mother’s face was enough to convince him to sleep with the family for the night.

Raz drowsily opened his eyes which seemed to be heavier than usual, but he chalked it up to not having slept well for the past few days. He was too busy saving the world, after all. Raz slowly sat up, then felt a throbbing in his head, causing him to hold it. He then recoiled as he felt heat emanating from his head. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was sick with a fever. 

“Pootie sweetie, are you okay? Are you still asleep?” his mother called out again. Raz shakily got on his feet, taking a moment to gain his balance, then quickly threw on his clothes before walking to the door of the caravan. “Oh my little Pootie,” Donatella exclaimed. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.” Raz, still half asleep, stared blankly at his mother. “Let me check your temperature,” she added, which seemed to snap Raz out of his daze. He knew he wasn’t well, but he didn’t want to miss his first day as a Psychonaut. Who knew what might happen if he wasn’t there!

“It’s okay, mom,” Raz replied a little shakily. “I am still just a bit worn out from all that’s been happening. But I’ll be okay!” Before his mother could object, Raz activated his levitation ability and rolled away as quickly as he could. Once he’d gotten some distance away, he deactivated it, then stopped and stumbled sideways against a tree, catching his breath. ‘Did I really get that unfit since leaving the circus?’ Raz thought to himself, then shook his head dismissively and began to walk towards the Motherlobe, evading his family dotted around the forest as he made his way there.

He promptly walked up to the reception. “Good morning,” Raz chirped to the receptionist. He began to feel a bit faint, so he played it off by pretending to be smug, then rested his arm on the desk. “Are there any messages for me?”

The receptionist raised her eyebrow. “Weren’t you the intern that started here the other day?”

“Former intern, actually,” Raz corrected, briefly snapping back to his usual self. “It’s a long story, but today is my first day as an agent.”

“There hasn’t really been any announcements to pass along,” she replied.

Raz suddenly appeared a bit worried. “What do you mean? There has to be something, right?”

“Sorry int..agent, but there isn’t always some crisis that needs solving.” She then looked at the anxiety on Raz’s face. “If you are really looking for something to do, perhaps ask one of the other agents if there is anything you can help them with? At the very least it will give you a bit training.”

Raz lit up a little. “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day!”

She smiled back. “Enjoy your first day on the job, agent.”

Raz walked around the Motherlobe aimlessly for a bit, then was struck with an idea. “I know! I will go see if Agent Nein is doing any science experiments I can help with.” He coughed a little, then made his way to Sasha’s lab. He walked in, then noticed Sasha sat by his desk eating some food. “Hello Agent Nein!” Raz greeted cheerily. “Whatcha doing?” Sasha looked up at Raz then back to the papers in front of him. “Good morning, young man. I’m just eating some breakfast and talking with Agent Vodello while reviewing some paperwork. How can I help you?” “I was going to ask you that actually,” Raz replied. “The receptionist said that I should ask an agent if they needed any help in hopes of learning something.” 

Sasha pulled out a chair next to him, filling Raz with glee. To Sasha’s surprise though, he didn’t rush to get to the seat, taking his time to walk to the chair. Raz sat down beside Sasha, looking at the paperwork that he was reading.

“Is that…a list of applicants for next week’s Whispering Rock Camp?” Raz asked with a concerned tone. “I’m still surprised that is happening, all things considered.”

“Well, Coach Oleander has been dealt with thanks to your help. We have reviewed the situation and determined that there is no real risk to carrying out the camp next week. Plus as I told you yesterday, the camp is the Psychonaut’s main source of revenue.” Sasha mentally prepared himself for Raz to kick up a fuss, but to his surprise, Raz let at a quiet hum of acknowledgement and continued to blankly glance at the paperwork. “Is something wrong, darling?” Milla asked Sasha through their thoughts. “Your mind has gone oddly quiet.”

“Razputin seems to be hiding something,” Sasha replied sceptically. “He isn’t acting his usual energetic self. He seems sluggish somehow.” “Well, have you tried asking the poor dear?” Milla questioned.

“You know that isn’t really my specialty. Though I suppose given the events of late, it is worth asking at the very least. He has had a busy few days and a lot to process.”

Sasha glanced over at Raz, who he noticed was gently rubbing his arms. “Are you okay, Razputin? You don’t seem to be your usual self.” Raz flicked his head to look at Sasha as though he were frightened by his question.

“Of course I am,” Raz hastily responded, then remembered his mother’s words about lying and got nervous. “Well, okay, maybe I’m not 100% myself, but I think I am just anxious about it being my first day.” He rubbed his arms again. “Plus it’s a bit cold in here,” he added without thinking. “Cold?” Sasha replied confused. “It shouldn’t be cold in here. The heating is on.” Raz suddenly remembered that he was trying to hide his illness and began to panic, worrying he had tipped Sasha off.

“Oh it’s nothing, maybe I just felt a cold draft,” Raz spoke frantically, jumping up from his seat. He then stumbled back a little, instinctively grabbing his head again as it began pounding. He continued to wobble backwards as the room began to spin. “Actually, m-maybe if I can warm up the place up…” Raz’s voice began to wane. Sasha grew concerned and stood up, then walked a little towards Raz before he heard crackling to his side. He looked over and saw that the paperwork he was looking at was on fire.

“Razputin, calm down!” Sasha yelled, then took his jacket off and fanned off the fire from the paperwork. He then looked back at Raz, who was glancing around the room as though he were in a daze, his stance unsteady. “Razputin, can you here me?”

“What is happening, darling?” Milla asked with concern, but Sasha didn’t respond. He dashed towards Raz, who collapsed and was caught by Sasha. He then placed the back of his hand on Raz’s forehead and then quickly pulled it away after feeling how hot it was.

“Milla, do you think you could bring some cold blankets and ice packs and meet me at Razputin’s dorm room? I believe he has a fever.“

“Of course! I will be as quick as I can.” 

Sasha used his telekinesis to lift Raz up, then paused for a moment before deciding to carry him on his back. “It would be best to act with caution for his condition,” he whispered to himself aloud. He took one last glance at the burned up paperwork, then sighed and left his lab.As he approached Raz’s dorm, he met eyes with Milla who appeared very concerned. She then rushed towards Sasha. 

“Oh my stars, is the darling okay?” she asked frantically.

“It appears he is suffering from a fever,” Sasha answered trying to appear stoic. “And a bad one at that. He started using his pyrokinesis in my lab.” “Oh dear,” Milla spoke, then walked behind Sasha to inspect Raz. “He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

“He is fine. Once I ascertained that he was not well, I rushed towards him and caught him as he was fainting.” Sasha then paused for a moment. “He burned a few documents, but I am sure I can work it out later. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

“Let us not delay, darling. The poor boy needs his rest.”

The two of them gently held Raz out in front of the Thinkerprint scanner, then entered Raz’s room. Sasha raised an eyebrow curiously as he walked towards the bed.

“It looks untouched,” he commented. “I didn’t think Razputin would be such a tidy person.” “Did he not tell you?” Milla asked. “He decided to stay with his family last night to recover from everything that happened.”

Sasha set Raz down on the bed carefully, then tried to figure out what had caused this situation. Raz was panting, his face streaming with sweat, to which Milla draped a cold blanket over him and placed an ice pack on his forehead. Sasha’s eyebrows then raised.

“Could it be that this fever was caused by overwhelming stress?” Sasha speculated. 

“Well that would certainly make sense,” Milla agreed. “I don’t know all the details, but he has been through a lot these past few days. Even agent Forsythe needed a break, and she didn’t even go through half of what the poor boy did!”

Sasha then looked at Raz who seemed to be relaxing a little, his breathing slowing down. “I don’t understand,” Sasha spoke somewhat agitatedly. “If he really was stressed, why wouldn’t he have told someone?” “Oh Sasha, darling,” Milla sighed. “The boy was so excited to do anything necessary to help, he probably didn’t even realise it himself. You more than anyone should understand what it’s like to not want to ask for help.”

Sasha stayed silent for a moment. “I suppose I will have to add how to ask for help on the list of things to train him on.” Milla raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, darling?” She then smirked teasingly. “Do you intend to become his mentor?” 

“Well, he does need someone to train him. We all need to be taught things from time to time. Besides, his former mentor turned out to be the mole of the Psychonauts.”

Milla smiled approvingly. “I’m sure Razputin would be thrilled to work with you, but we have the camp next week, remember?”

“I am aware,” Sasha answered. “I will find some work for Razputin to do in my absence. Perhaps I could even have him on standby in case something happens.” “I am sure he would willingly agree to that, but is that really a good idea?” Milla questioned. “He has already fallen ill because of the work. Maybe it’s best we let him ease back into it, hmm?” The two of them silently stared at Raz for a while.

“He seems to be stable for now,” Sasha spoke. “But we should probably have someone to watch over him in case he starts reacting again.”

“I will try and psychically reach his father. I’m sure he will willingly look after his son.” They stepped out of the room and then Milla closed her eyes for a minute. “Alright, I have contacted his father and instructed the receptionist to have someone guide him to Razputin’s room and to give him temporary Thinkerprint access to Razputin’s room. I’ve also asked that we be granted access for the time being so that we may help out should something happen.”

“Very good. If you are free, let us go together to discuss what to do about Razputin when he feels better.” The two of them walked in silent thought towards Sasha’s lab. “You know,” Milla spoke up softly. “Perhaps the reason Razputin did not talk to us was because we made him feel that he couldn’t.” Sasha furrowed his brows. “Whatever do you mean?”

“When we were at camp, we didn’t exactly listen to him when he tried to warn us about what Coach Oleander was doing. And again when we ignored Coach being brainless. Perhaps if we had listened, maybe would could have protected him and Razputin would not have had to merge psyches with him.” “You know as well as I do that dwelling on ‘what ifs’ can be harmful, dear Milla.” 

“But not just that! He was told by Truman, or well Gristol, to keep his mission to help Ford secret. Is it possible he maybe feels responsible for that, too?” “Ridiculous,” Sasha scoffed. “Not even we knew what Gristol was up to, let alone that he was acting as Truman. It would be foolish for him to blame himself.” Sasha then took a moment to contemplate. “Then again, he is so capable that I often forget that he is still a young boy. And though we know parts of his past, none of the Psychonaut agents have been inside his mind. Perhaps it would have been wise to check up on him after recent events.” Milla gently took hold of Sasha’s hand. “You know, a wise agent once told me that worrying about ‘what ifs’ can be harmful.” Sasha chuckled, squeezing her hand back. “Let’s get to work so that we can be ready for when Razputin feels better, hmm?”

-

Raz slowly opened his eyes and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. His body ached and felt heavy, so he didn’t have the energy to move.

“Ah, you are awake,” a familiar voice spoke. Raz turned his head to the side sluggishly and saw his father sat smiling beside him. “How are you feeling, son?”

“I’m…tired,” Raz replied slackingly. “What happened?”

“I was told you passed out in Mr Nein’s arms.”

Raz’s face somehow became more red that it was. “I passed out…in Agent Nein’s arms?” he croaked anxiously. 

His father playfully laughed. “Don’t worry, my boy. I was told that he is only concerned about your feeling better.” Raz paused curiously. “How did you hear all of this?”

“That lady counsellor from your camp – Milla Vodello was it? She has been using her psychic powers to talk to me.” Augustus’ eyes lit up. “It’s rather fascinating actually. I never knew how much you could do with you mind.”

Raz smiled weakly. “You really have changed. Just a few days ago you would have…” Raz stopped, realising he didn’t want to finish his sentence. He then looked up at the ceiling. He chuckled anxiously. “Ah, never mind!”

Augustus became serious all of a sudden. “Razputin,” he spoke kindly. “I know the past few days have been difficult for you. They have been difficult for me, too. But you don’t have to do things alone anymore. You know that, right?” Raz briefly met eyes with his father before looking back up at the ceiling. 

“It’s just…” Raz paused for a moment, trying to compose his jumbled thoughts. “I keep having nightmares.” He moved the arm furthest from his father to his other hand, lightly scratching the back of his hand in an attempt to calm his nerves. “I end up back at that meat circus. You are there – or a version of you at least - taunting me from above. And then below…” Raz started to choke up. “And below me is Nona…no, Maligula. She is there trying to grab me. And when she pulls me down, you stand there…watching...laughing.” Raz suddenly pulls an arm up and wipes away his tears, then forces a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s so silly. I know you’re not really like that.” Augustus suddenly holds Raz up to his chest, one hand on the back of his head and the other on his back. “I’m so sorry, son. You have been through so much all alone.” Raz whimpered in an attempt to speak, but instead burst into tears as he buried his head into his father’s shoulder, gripping the clothes on his back tightly. Augustus gently brushed the back of his son’s head as felt a tightness in his chest, leading him to start crying as well. The two of them held each other close, letting out the pent up pain they had been holding back until now.

-

The doors opened and Milla peered her head around the corner of the room, trying her best to avoid being noticed. 

“You can come in,” Augustus spoke, turning and smiling at Milla. “He went back to sleep.” Milla noticed the puffiness of his eyes, but decided that it was not worth commenting on.

“He looks very peaceful,” Milla commented. “He must be comfortable knowing you are here.” Augustus smiled. “I am thankful he has let me back into his life after everything I have put him through. But from here on out, I want to do my best to support him and look after him. I hope that one day I will become the father he needs and deserves.” Milla placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am sure Razputin will appreciate that. Please know that we will also do our best here to support him. We all deeply care about your son here and want him to be happy, too.“ She moved her hand off of his shoulder. “I will leave you two alone again, but please let us know if you need anything.” She then left the room.

Augustus stared blankly at the door for a moment, then his attention was suddenly directed to something grasping his hand. He quickly looked and saw that Raz has turned over and held his father’s hand, still sleeping soundly. Augustus smiled contently and brushed some hair away from Raz’s face.

“I love you, dad,” Raz mumbled in his sleep, catching Augustus off guard. He then hunched over, his shoulders quivering as he held back from crying. 

“I love you too, Razputin. So very much.”

— x —

Alrighty, that’s all for now! I don’t know whether to make a part two to this? Let me know if you think I should. Maybe having Sasha and/or Milla checking up on Raz when he feels a bit better and them having a heartfelt conversation about the events from the games and maybe having them apologise for not always listening to him and just generally caring for them.

(Also, please tell me if there are any errors. I think when I pasted this over from my Word document it pasted twice.)

[early20sfailingplenty]

Please, Vinny?🥺🙏// Vincent Sinclair x GN!reader (no coded language, ‘you’ used).

Summary: You can’t find Vincent, nor have you seen him for over seven hours. Concerned and wanting his attention are you, so you look to Bo for answers. Bo sets you to rights and your feet take you home to your Vincent with many thanks to Bo. Home isn’t a place, but a person, and you never want to leave. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, so it’s just as well that you’re both totally enamoured with each other. You get your attention, Vincent finds that he was missing your touch, and all is right in Ambrose.

I'm affectionately blaming @imbleedin-out for this piece; she gets me deep in my feelings every day and night and they’ve all spilled out into this piece 🥺🌸. YOU CAN CONSIDER THIS PIECE A LOVE CONFESSION (not that you were unaware at any point; I’m not secretive😂). This is self-indulgent as all hell and lowkey self-insert, too. Who better to give me what I want than me?😂 He's so pretty and I'm so in love omg I'm weak🥺🥺🥺pls stop making me drop my uwus, Vinny🥺🥺🥺🥺 THE WAY HE TILTS HIS HEAD MOCKINGLY AND HIDES HIS FACE PLEAAAAAASE VINNY STOP IT MY MORTAL HEART CAN’T TAKE ITTTTTTTT ~ 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰. 

TW; CANON TYPICAL DARKNESS, SOME POSSESSIVE LANGUAGE from Vincent and reader (Vincent’s dialogue is signed and indicated with italics), READER IS MORALLY GREY & A BIT MANIPULATIVE (I LOVE ME a reader whose as bad as the slashers), reader is CLINGY. I guess you could read it as Stockholm Syndrome but I wrote this as a genuine connection with Vincent and wasn’t thinking of anything particularly nefarious. I’m still putting it on this list just in case, though, ELEMENTS OF AN UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP between Vincent and Y/N (though, again, that wasn’t my intention when writing it, but I’m putting it here just in case), MENTIONS OF MURDER. This is honestly just self-indulgent fluff. Text messages look like this. MENTIONS OF CODEPENDENCY IN RELATION TO THE SINCLAIR TWINS (canon compliant). If I forgot anything, let me know!💗

Word count: 4, 991 (not as long as usual lmfao sorry I hope no one minds!!!)

“Uh-oh. I know that look,” Bo shook his head mockingly as he looked up at you from his position on the dirty floor of the garage station. He was sat back on his haunches, his balance impeccable as he centred his own weight while working on his truck. “Wha’s the matter with ya’?” There was a subtle fondness to his tone which anyone else wouldn’t have picked up on. There was always a darker edge in Bo’s voice, but you knew him well enough by now. It was in the aftertaste of his words sinking into your ears that you caught the lighter inflection underneath his otherwise harsh words. You caught the affectionate twinkle in his baby blues, the upward tugging of one corner of his mouth. Bo stood up and wiped his dirty hands on an already filthy towel, only serving to spread the grease and grime as opposed to cleaning himself.

It seemed every day you despaired at how the Sinclairs didn’t take care of themselves properly, and it was all you could do to keep them from getting sick. They weren’t completely unhygienic, but they also lived in conditions which would make the average person afraid to touch anything in fear of what they would find. You still felt your spine crawling to remember that when you had first cleaned up their living room, the cobwebs had been so thick that they were white, completely translucent like cotton candy stretched thin.

“Can’t find Vinny.” The frown on your face made it sound like you were pouting, and in all honesty, you had had the urge numerous times. Oh, but you missed Vincent. You usually weren’t quite so clingy, but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for well over seven hours and it was beginning to get to you. It was only when you had searched the entire house, including the various trap doors which Vincent favoured, that concern crept over you. He hadn’t responded to calls of his name and straining your ears for sounds of the haunting classical music he listened to when he was working hadn’t turned anything up either. You genuinely couldn’t find Vincent, and in your rising anxiety had Bo been the one you had gone to for help. In any other situation, he would have teased the fuck outta you for it. But when it came to his family, his family, Bo did not, would not fuck around.

Bo was only half listening to you while he moved around the garage, tweaking things here and there and scribbling down things on a battered piece of paper on the counter - stock counts, you figured, or maybe odd jobs he needed to get around to - but when you mentioned Vincent, Bo stopped. He eyed you heavily, fully focused on you now. If you took a step in any direction, Bo’s eyes would instinctively track your movements. He and Vincent were very intense and their penetrative gazes were almost identical. Bo knew that you wouldn’t have come to him for help unless you had already exhausted all of your options. He loved that you were self-sufficient and largely independent. You carried out your responsibilities well and you only asked for help when you couldn’t think of anything else. As such, this was serious and Bo wouldn’t let up until Vincent had been located. It was almost amusing to the both of you that the most notorious of the hunters in the Sinclair family had now become the hunted, all because he hadn’t responded when you had called him. “Isn’t ‘e up at the house?”

“Not that I could see. Looked and called everywhere.” A pause and then, “I even checked the trap doors, Bo. Couldn’t hear anything, either.”

Bo frowned and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, feeling increasingly protective of his twin. Where y’at, Vincent? His fingers flew across the keys. Normally he was slow when he typed, and he cursed every other letter because his fingers were too big for the individual keypads, but Bo was best when he was up against the odds, and so the text was sent out without a hitch.

The reply was almost instant; less than twenty seconds had passed before Bo’s phone alerted him to Vincent’s response. The brothers did not fuck around when it came to each other. Basement. Bo could picture so easily Vincent’s slight irritation at being interrupted, but it only made him frown. Why would Vincent respond to him but not to you? You knew what they both got up to, you were as intimate with the town as they were, now, after everything you had been through and worked at just to survive. You were almost as important to the twins as they were to each other, though rarely were you made to feel like the odd displays of affection between yourself and the Sinclair's was hierarchal. That was the case, however. Vincent loved you, you were his muse, but no one and nothing came before Bo did. Their co-dependency simply wouldn’t allow it, this you knew. You weren’t an idiot - you knew that Vincent would pick Bo over you if it came down to it. You had known what you were signing up for when you had agreed to be in a relationship with Vincent, but it still stung sometimes; not that you would admit such to Vincent. It wouldn’t make a difference even if you did.

Y/N buggin’ me t’look for ya’.

Working. 

Bo sighed and put the phone away while he filled you in. Your anxiety over something so commonplace as Vincent being too absorbed in his work to respond to anyone or anything outside of his task was amusing to him, but all the same did Bo seek to calm you. He got it, he worried about his brothers, too. “He’s in the basement workin’ on sumthin’ for the town.” The ache in his chest was immediately soothed not only by Vincent’s immediate responses, but also by the fact that he knew where his twin was. To a lesser degree, he was also content with the fact that he had been able to help you. You made his twin happier than Bo had ever seen him, and that really meant something to Bo. Whether he admitted it or not. It didn’t really matter, either way, because you all knew that Bo hid a great deal of his emotions, even from himself, but you knew him and so even what he didn’t say came out in his actions. You knew he cared about you because of the extent he had just taken in helping you. If he didn’t care about you, he would have scoffed at you and told you to fuck off. But he didn’t - much of the Sinclair's emotions and affection was unvoiced, but you had learned to read all of them, and how best to show your own affection for them. It differed depending on which brother you were interacting with, and of course Vincent received the most intense displays of love and affection.

You knew what that meant. You barely avoided shuddering. It was no secret that you did not stomach well the brothers’ work, but the exchange for being kept alive and relatively free to roam the town was that you kept out of the way once said work was underfoot. It meant that neither brother had to worry about you, and it also meant that you got some blissful alone time to do... whatever it was you wanted to do. You usually chose to clean the house, engage in your hobbies and make sure that any visitors brought up to the house didn’t see you. You were getting used to diving under the pool table or vaulting over the back of the sofa at a second’s notice, and your general reflexes in your daily life had greatly improved as a result. It was like Lester had once said to you, you can get used to anythin’ if y’re ‘round it long enough.

You knew that it made you just as bad as the brothers were, but you had never really found it in yourself to care. You had forged from the fires a home for yourself here. You had found love with Vincent (and, oh, it had been the slow burn to end all slow burns), you had found a best friend in Bo (not that he would ever allow you to call him that, but you were close enough that he very rarely came to you for reassurances at three in the morning when he just couldn’t take it anymore), and you had found another confidant and friend in Lester. When the twins were too much or you just needed some time away from the town, you liked to accompany Lester on his job and sit in his truck making bad (great) puns, chatting together and forgetting the world for just a few wonderful hours. Lester loved spending time with you, and he had gotten Bo to fix both side windows so that you could both indulge in the feeling of the wind passing over your faces to minimise or keep away the smell of roadkill. In short, you had found a home in Ambrose, and with it came everything you didn’t know you needed until you had it, and, oh, you wouldn’t trade a second of it for anyone or anything. 

You had almost died for the privilege to stay in Ambrose alive and well, and now, months later, you would die before you left. As much as the ghost town was your home, though, and as much as Bo and Lester loved you in their own ways and as much as you loved them, nothing and no one was as close to you, as precious or as rare to you as Vincent was. Vincent was your everything. He was your silent companion in many things and you spent much of your days with him. The soft candlelight in his basement, the distant roaring of the engines, the gentle scraping and hissing of the wax as he worked on a sculpture or the bristles of a brush on paper, his looming form and the long shadows it cast... everything about him was so mystifying to you. He was so dangerous, this you knew well. He was a hunter, a tracker, quiet and fast. Deadly was he. He took from people what they didn’t know they were giving him just by being in his presence. He murdered so quickly that most didn’t know they were dead or even how they had died. Brutal was your Vincent, but that was just it... he was yours and you loved him all the more for who he was. 

“Thank you,” You gave Bo a slightly watery smile, feeling oddly tender and not knowing why. I just want Vincent was a common thought this day, and it came with the urge to crawl up into his lap and forget the rest of the world. Clearly, you were wanting, no, needing his attention. Who were you to deny yourself, even when it depended on someone else to fulfil your needs? You were sure Vincent wouldn’t deny you; you were his muse, and he always took real good care of you. Just as you tried to do the same for him.

“Ah, christ,” Bo rubbed at the back of his neck, uncomfortable was he. He recognised the signs that you were going to cry if this carried on and he did not want to have to deal with that. He frowned, and then, “When’d ya’ say ya’ last saw ‘im?”

“He went down just after you left and I haven’t seen him since, so that’s... maybe seven hours ago. Just over, I think.” May as well just tell ‘im you were clock-watching, you mentally eye-rolled at your own transparency, but you knew that Bo would have realised it anyway. Why else were you down here asking him about his twin?

“S’no harm in goin’ down ta’ ‘im if ya’ want. I reckon he’d be happy to see ya’, s’been so long.” Bo turned away from you with a shrug and picked up something he needed to continue working on his truck. You saw the dismissal for what it was.

“Thanks, Bo.” You gave him a gentle smile, truly grateful not just for his help but also for the emotions he had expressed towards you as he did so. He cared. You would have considered him to be cold, once upon a time, but you knew better by now. You knew Bo and you were aware of how he expressed himself better than perhaps even he did.

Bo waved you away, already back at work, though on what, you knew not, and it was only when you were out of sight and your footsteps were receding at a steady pace away from the garage and towards the house of wax that he pulled out his phone and shot Vincent another text.

Sent a teary Y/N your way. I ain’t dealin’ with that shit.

Down in the basement, Vincent frowned as his beautiful eye took in Bo’s message. He sighed and set aside his main work project in favour of being able to give you all of his attention when you arrived. You knew the route like the back of your hand by now so it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes at most. It wasn’t a usual practice for you to seek him out like this, content were you to let him come to you when he was finished with his work. You understood how important it was and you marveled at what he was capable of; the good, the bad and everything in between. Vincent supposed he could use a break as he put his mask on; you loved his face, you truly did, but he felt better and more comfortable with his wax mask on. If his muse was needing his attention to the point where you had gone to Bo for help, then he couldn’t, wouldn’t, turn you away. That would be cruel and Vincent wasn’t a cruel man. Not to you, at least. People who came into the town were a different story, however, a slave was he to his calling, to his art and to finishing what his momma started.

A floor up, you entered the house of wax and stood in the dusty foyer. Your nose wrinkled against all the dust in the room, and you vowed to get around to dusting soon. What was the point of Vincent working so damn hard all the time if he was just gonna let it get all dusty and gross? You wondered if dust degraded the wax, somehow. Surely if you phrased it that way, he’d want to help you clean it up... It was manipulative, but you’d picked that up from Bo. It was a means to an end, and once Vincent saw how much cleaner his art looked, it would probably become just something else he’d do every damn day like he knew nothing else of life. You weren’t sure he did. 

You spotted Jonesy in one of the alcoves of the opening to the passage which led down to Vincent’s basement, and you smiled as she sauntered up to you. “Hi ~ “ You cooed at her, bending down to stroke her and to smother her in kisses. You could almost feel the way she missed her space downstairs, and she announced that she was leaving with an excited bark. She spun around and ran off, going down to alert Vincent that his space had been intruded upon. It was with a leisurely pace that you followed her, feeling more and more teary and needy as the minutes ticked passed. Vincent was physically so close to you now, but it felt like he was far away with an entire staircase between you. On the way down, you knew that Vincent could hear every single step you took; so thin were the walls but so acutely aware was he of his surroundings, too. You could hear that classical music now which you had strained your ears to hear earlier, and you realised that you hadn’t been able to hear it because of how lowly he was playing it. The volume remained constant as you reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the carved out path around the corner to finally, finally, see Vincent again.

Oh, but he was beautiful. 

Your breath caught in your throat. 

Vincent had his back to you, his long dark hair matted at the ends with clumps of wax and greasy at the roots. He always neglected himself in favour of his work. You were much the same way, but you both took care of each other so that your own selves were cared for, too. His hands were working away at a sketch, the charcoal between his fingertips smudging with every brush of his pinkie finger. He hadn’t been working at it long, only a few moments, and you smiled to realise that Bo had alerted him of where you had been headed. Secret softie, aren’t’cha, Bo? You giggled to think of how Bo would have reacted to that particular thought and Vincent turned around at the sound, his eye crinkling at the edges. You wished you could see that smile, but you knew he felt more comfortable with his mask on, and so you remained silent. But Vincent heard you - he always did.

“Hi, Vinny!” You bit your bottom lip against the sudden strong urge to cry, the backs of your eyes and nose stinging. How was it possible that he was both your strength and your weakness? You wrinkled your nose against the urge to cry, uncertain as to why you were feeling so emotionally tender and clingy. Vincent had been away from you for longer than seven hours before, but you supposed that it was just... one of those days. Sometimes, a little extra love and attention was required, and that was okay. 

Vincent’s intense gaze seemed to look through you, and the longer he looked at you, the more you began to realise that he was analysing you. It was true that he was a hunter, and he always seemed to know just where to go when he was looking for someone or seeking out something. He was a predator through and through, and every intimate piece of knowledge he had about you and your inner workings was being assessed against the you before him. He was trying, in short, to work you out without having to ask you. You knew he was doing it, though you knew not if that was a good thing or not. Most people would simply ask, are you okay?, but Vincent was not most people and he had his own methods of doing things. With his single blue eye fixed upon you, Vincent raised his hands slowly and signed, I’ve seen that look before. What’s the matter?

Vincent echoed Bo’s words without even knowing it. Idly did you wonder how many of the twins’ similarities were because they were genetically identical, if it was because of their extreme codependency, if it was because they had spent their entire lives together, or for some other reason. You would never tell them how alike they were, if only because you were not brave enough to open up that particular can of worms. As such did you bite back a smile, a wave of affection for the brothers overcoming you. “You’ve been down here most of the day so I came to check up on you.” You didn’t bother telling Vincent that you missed him - he already knew. No matter how well you thought you hid things from Vincent, such as thoughts and emotions, Vincent knew you better. It was ironically his noticing that you were hiding things from him which made him pay greater attention. In the end, it was just easier to be upfront with Vincent. He’d figure it out, anyway, and you would be comforted faster if you were just honest from the start.

Busy with work. Nearly done. 

You took a step forward, further intruding upon his space. You were his muse, and he always wanted to be around you. Unless he was working, in which case this entire place was strictly out of bounds to you so that there was no risk of you being harmed by anything or anyone. “Can I keep you company ‘til you’re done? Please, Vinny?” Oh, help you, you wanted to pout. It was only here in his presence that you realised how much you really had been missing him. If he said no, it would be a hell of a show of self-restraint to leave him be once more, but you would have no choice but to do it. He wasn’t above throwing you over his shoulder, stomping up the stairs with you and depositing you back in the foyer of the house of wax before going back the way he had come with a pointed slam of the door. He’d done it before and you knew he would do it again if he didn’t want your company. At least with Vincent, you always knew where you stood, and you did your best to give him the same courtesy.

He turned away from you and went back to his sketch. You frowned, not able to fully read his body language from the back of him. The angle of his shoulders wasn’t much to go off, so you went around to the side where he would be able to see you so that you didn’t scare him. He was sat in his usual position, but you noticed that his legs were spread at such an angle that you would be snug between them, and able to move if you wanted to. You ventured forward slowly until you were stood beside him. God, his hair. You absolutely adored every part of Vincent, but especially his hair. It was long, dark, and it served to shield his face from the rest of the world when he needed to let his skin breathe, but he didn’t want for the scarred half of his face to be visible. Your hand reached out and stroked one of the strands away from his face, bending down and placing a kiss to his waxy cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Vincent.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, loathe were you to break the peaceful atmosphere which Vincent crafted as carefully as his sculptures every time he came down to work. His pleased hum as you continued to play with his hair only made you bolder and you stepped forward until your chest was brushing against his upper arms, his head perfectly level with yours due to the height at which he sat on his stool. “Such a work of art.”

A large hand covered in clumps of dried wax came up and pulled off the mask, giving you proper access to his unscarred cheek. He wanted to feel everything you were giving to him, and it only made you love him more in his display of vulnerability and trust. You cooed, your smile threatening to break your face in half, and bent down to smother Vincent’s face in kisses. You were slow, gentle, trying to channel all of your love for him into every purse of your lips, every feathered kiss bestowed upon his skin. Vincent had learned to ask for what he wanted at the same time as he had learned to accept the affections which seemed to burst forth from your chest unprompted. It had been a long, hard journey, but finally had he reached the point where he felt safe in being unmasked around you, even if it was only when you were stood on his unscarred side. You loved all of him, you truly did, but you understood and accepted Vincent’s need to go slowly, and you never pushed for more than he was willing to give. You cherished it all.

Vincent pointedly shifted his weight and spread his legs a little further and you grinned as you obediently, unthinkingly slid into his lap. “Don’t get used to me doing what you tell me, Vinny.” Your comment was meant to be a distraction from the way you melted into Vincent. You were right where you wanted to be ever since you had gone to see Bo, and the feeling of being held by Vincent was like your soul dipping into a bath at the perfect temperature at the end of a long, hard day. You could spend forever with him, beside him and surrounded by him if he allowed for you to be. Accommodating was he, though there were occasions during which he had to turn you away because work had to be done, or he was doing things that you really didn’t want to be a witness to.

He huffed in amusement, knowing you were lying and seeing right through your comment. One word from him and you would do anything, just as he would for you if you asked him to. You just couldn’t, wouldn’t, say no to each other. One of his arms wrapped around you like a boa constrictor to hold you in place upon his lap. His hand moved up and down your back once, twice, before it settled firmly, pleasantly, into the middle of your back. Vincent’s heat seeped into your skin and you curled into his lap, bringing your knees up to your chest so that your feet dangled over the edge. You were effectively leaning on him, depending on him to be able to support your weight. It was a display of trust which he heard loud and clear. To tell you such, Vincent’s free hand brushed any hair you had away from your face and he ducked down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, royalty were you. The hand on your back tapped twice to gain your attention (not that he had lost it for even a second) and his arms came around to the front of you so that you could see what he was doing. You wobbled a little from him no longer supporting your weight from the back but you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting truly comfortable as he signed, still missing me?

“I always miss you, honey.”

Even when I’m here?

“Especially then.”

Vincent was intuitive, sharp, and he saw so much more than he let others know about (his strength was that people never saw him coming and by the time they did, it was far too late) but he struggled deeply with insecurity. He understood well enough missing you even when you were right beside him, but he couldn’t fathom why or how you felt the very same for him. But he also wasn’t about to question it; you were one of the very few good things in his life and he didn’t want to jeopardise that. He melted when you pressed kisses along the column of his neck, and he decided to stop communicating with you in favour of wrapping both of his arms around you once more and tugging you closer to him. You were impossibly close and holding one another tightly, and it was when you whispered a barely audible, “I love you,” that Vincent realised he had missed you as much as you had missed him. Sometimes it wasn’t until you sought him out that he realised he’d been wanting you, and he wondered if you knew just how you affected him. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” You mumbled, knowing that Vincent could hear you just as well as if you had spoken at your usual level, “Can I stay here with you? Please, Vinny?” Your arms tightened around his neck, and Vincent huffed in amusement once more. His arms flexed around you and he angled his head so that he could rest his lips upon the space of skin which jumped with every beat of your heart. Your head tipped back and Vincent took advantage of all the access you granted him. His lips were slow, precise in where they landed, and if Vincent had thought that you had melted into him before, then he was not prepared for the way your entire body went limp. Oh, but only Vincent could render you so powerless with something as understated as a kiss. Vincent’s arms squeezed around you once, twice, thrice, and the huff of hot air just behind the hollow of your ear made you feel like he was saying, try and leave. I dare you.

Vincent shifted, then, so that you were supported on his lap with one arm around you, and he leaned forward slightly so that he could also continue his work with both hands. You watched Vincent sketch idly, your eyes beginning to grow heavy as the physical heat of the room started to soak into you, as the firm solidity of Vincent behind you and the steady rise and fall of his chest kept you constantly aware of his presence. His arms were tightly around you, his lips were resting against your skin, and periodically would he press a kiss to whichever spot his fancied. It was never the same one twice in a row; unpredictable could he be. You settled into Vincent, your fingers finding his hair once more, and your voice was saturated with your smile, unseen by your love but felt by him all the same, as you said, “S’okay, I won’t leave you. Nothing and no one could take you away from me.”

In that moment, your minds were aligned just like your bodies, for you both thought of Bo.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

[spiderling-space]

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post 

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him. 

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm. 

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment. 

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically! 

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then. 

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically. 

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings. 

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

[votederpycausemufins]

the next chapter of Something Familiar.... haha... ha...

Okay look... So, uh. I wrote one scene in this chapter, and I wanted it to be mostly mysterious, where you don't know who is involved until later. That being said, the mysteriousness of the section makes it come out… pretty freaking dark. Enough that this is a bit of a warning. There's like… mind control? brain watching? uh… mind fuckery that I'm not entirely sure how to categorize. I will put in bold where the start and end of the scene is as well as put the whole thing in italics. a summary will then be right under the second warning in case you skip it.

otherwise, as it's a hermit tommy influenced story, i am tagging @petrichormeraki

Grian and Flora had quickly agreed that Sahn couldn’t come back to the castle. Flora was sure Sahn would cause a fuss since he thought her very nice uncle could somehow be a bad person. Grian, on the other hand, knew that Grifter was really future him, having replaced the real Grifter. So if Sahn saw him, he would assume Grifter was actually Grifter, while Grifter would think Sahn was Sam like Grian had just done.

While staying in the castle had been nice, Grian originally wanted a place of his own. That was how he met Flora in the first place, from damaging the forest around her base for resources. Come to think of it, Grian didn’t remember actually seeing her base, so perhaps he could also suggest that. Except Grifter liked to visit Flora, so they needed to find someone who he was less likely to visit.

The two of them started trying to figure out where else Sahn could stay, Grian giving suggestions based on his limited knowledge of the place and Flora for the most part explaining why those wouldn’t work. Fortunately, after multiple bad ideas, they were given a saving grace in the form of Astrid returning. At least they thought that all of two seconds before Astrid noticed Sahn, and asked who the new person was, though in less pleasant terms.

Grian and Flora explained to the best of their abilities about who Sahn was in relation to Grifter and why that meant he couldn’t see Sahn. Astrid was quiet for a few moments, her clasped hands with index fingers out and against her mouth being a clear indicator of her both low key judging as well as just trying to comprehend the mess she had just walked into. 

Finally, after staying that way long enough the pair thought Astrid was about to chew them out on even considering keeping Sahn around, she finally walked over to Sahn, who was having a one sided conversation with one of the chickens near him, and grabbed the collar of his shirt to yank him to his feet.

‘Do you understand me?’ Grian watched Astrid sign, though Sahn seemed to be completely clueless. ‘Do you understand me?’ She signed again, and Grian was about to say it was unlikely that Sahn would understand a second time, but then Sahn nodded. As Astrid told him to come over to the group, Grian thought it over again to realize that while she said it twice, and he understood what was being signed both times, the two sentences had been signed differently.

Before he was able to think on it more, Astrid had finished a quick discussion with Sahn and was starting to lead them somewhere, causing Flora to pull him along and break him out of his train of thought. He was a bit distracted by Sahn trying to make conversation, but Astrid and Flora clued in to his discomfort and made sure to stay between the two, and Flora held more of the conversation. Grian felt a little guilty though, since Sahn kept trying to talk about the Grifter he knew, which were not great stories and were obviously upsetting her a bit, but when Grian tried to say she didn’t need to help out with this, she brushed him off saying it was fine.

After that, Grian hung back, leaving a large gap between him and the others. This whole thing felt really conflicting. He was pretty sure he liked hanging out with Flora and Astrid. They were around his age and weren’t as blatantly psychopathic as Sam was from time to time. But now with Sahn showing up, he was second guessing if that was real, or if he was trying to make it real. He hadn’t been gone from the drama of high school for that long from his point of view, but he was so desperate for something different and potentially safer, was he just pretending it was like that here?

He knew going back wasn’t the best place, at least not until he could prevent whatever was going to happen, but there was also this part of himself that was telling him that he couldn’t be here either. This wasn’t his world, not yet, and his current situation was leaving him almost powerless. 

Grian tried not to listen to whatever that part of him was, he didn’t need those insecurities bothering him right now, but instead of turning it out completely, he just made himself more aware. While before it was almost just white noise, he was now very aware of the voices of his audience. All of them tried to give their two cents, and it felt a bit overwhelming. Though covering his ears did nothing as the voices were essentially in his mind, he still kept his hands there, hoping that blocking out other sounds would make the ones that wouldn’t go away more bearable.

Grian got a bit further before he couldn’t take it anymore. He just wanted quiet. And suddenly it was. A mix of purple and a little bit of green magic had formed from his hands, casting away most of the sounds inside his mind and muffling anything outside. For a moment it was bliss before a wave of exhaustion hit, and a second later, Grian had collapsed to his knees, sure he would completely fall over moments later. He thought he could hear someone saying something, and maybe a hand touching him, but it all just seemed fuzzy. The only thing that got through was a calming voice that was simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar, telling him to rest. And then he was on the ground, asleep.

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Silski's house was probably the last place any of them wanted to be right now after what happened with Jane. That being said, it was also probably the last place Grifter would want to be too. And that was what Astrid was counting on. They needed a place to keep Sahn that would also keep him away from the admin. Plus, at least for Astrid, she might be able to talk to someone about what was going on that wouldn't be found out and get them all in trouble.

"I still don't like him being in here." SiIski said, turning to Astrid and away from the others. Grian was still passed out, Flora having carried him the rest of the way once they realized he was no longer following along. He was placed on the couch in the base, but took up most of the space. And Toob refused to give his seat up, so Flora was left lying on the ground as she caught her breath. Sahn stood at her feet since there wasn't really anywhere else.

'Look, I know having him around isn't the best.' Astrid signed slowly. 'But you can't even see him or I guess hear him.'

"I'm not talking about him. Because you're right. I can't see or smell him. Hell, I don't even know if he's still at Fleur's feet."

"He is." Flora answered, though her voice was muffled by the floor.

"Right, well, I'm talking about the bird." And he pointed to Grian. "I know he's not Grifter, but still smells awful. Like overripe fruit and Wassa smoking."

"I mean, he's got some mycelium stuck in his wings still last I checked. I probably smell like it too since I carried him." Flora spoke up again.

"That's just it, you don't." Silski continued.

Trust me, if he thought you smelled too, he would have mentioned it." Toob explained further. "You think he wouldn't?"

"You got me there." Flora conceded.

'Okay, fine. Can I talk to you privately in the next room?' Astrid signed. Silski huffed, looking over to Toob before nodding and grabbing Astrid before dragging her through the base to a mostly empty room lined with wool. Here? You're sure?'

"Might as well. Makes it easier to hear you and harder to be heard."

'Can you sign too?'

'How bad is it. I mean, if we can't even talk...' Silski signed, though it was rough and took a moment for Astrid to figure out what he meant and what words he left out or signed wrong.

'That is not a younger admin.' Astrid started to explain. 'That's his Wels.'

'You're joking. I mean, that explains some things. But doesn't he think...?'

'No, he does.' Astrid corrected him before wringing her hands nervously, still thinking. 'Admin used magic, wiping a chunk of his memory. He's supposed to be a Watcher, but admin has him using Listener magic. Which, and I am not being dramatic here, could be world ending. No, universe ending!'

'Then why?' Silski asked, but Astrid just shrugged her shoulders.

'I can't let anything happen to fox. You would do the same for husband, right?' And Silski nodded. 'That's why I can only tell you. And why I need help.'

'What could I possibly help with?' Silski asked, a bit hesitant.

'First, cover for me if you ever get the chance. Second...' And she paused to make sure he knew how important this was. 'A king and crew are going to join soon.'

Silksi froze for a moment, before slowly nodding. He then moved, starting to open the door as he said, “Okay. Well, we should probably head back. Your friend might be awake now.” 

Astrid then gave the hybrid another nod before walking out of the room, Silski following behind. For a moment, Astrid thought the Grian was actually awake when they returned, but a second glance showed it was, which was odd as she could have sworn she saw one of his eyes open.

“So, what was that all about?” Flora asked, still on the ground but now on her back instead of her face.

“They’re obviously cheating on us.”

“What?! No! Why didn’t you tell me you were straight!”

“Guess I need a divorce. I’m keeping Jane though.” Toob finished before he and Flora laughed a little. “But seriously.”

“It’s Dark stuff. And since Listeners use the magic of the Dark, she knew a bit about it.”

“Wait, then that’s an idea!” Flora said, quickly sitting up. “Grian’s doing magic training, wouldn’t it go faster if we went there? It’s supposed to be open!”

“No.” Silski quickly hissed. “I can bear that bastard in my house, but if you think I’ll let him desecrate The Dark, you’re better off dead.”

“So… that’s a no then…”

Silski huffed once more, muttering under his breath. At first Astrid was glad he was playing along, until she noticed he was serious. Well, she supposed it worked either way.

“Can you shut your comm up?” Silski said next, leaving Astrid to leave the room again.

“Astridddd guess what!”

Astrid smiled, glad to hear Vee’s voice before typing a message back through the video call that Vee had started. ‘What’s up.’

“Well firsta all, there’s a big problem! Grian’s not even here!” Astrid froze for a second. She had moved back to the wool room just in case, but she still looked around in case she was heard. “But good news is I’m helpin’ Jrum! He’s my Watchin’ pair! I toldja, right?” And Astrid nodded. “Well, a buncha his friends think that the stuff that happened with him used Watching and Listeny magic, so we’re gonna try and uhhh… I forget what they called it, but they’re gonna do it again so they can figure out how to undo it!”

‘I think they’re referring to reverse engineering. I haven’t been able to get in touch with Papa. Has he talked with you? Is he with you?’ Astrid typed back. Grifter was talking a hands off approach right now with her and Flora around, but before long, Grian would probably be taught more about being a Listener. And obviously that was affecting her and Vee’s dad.

“No, no one can get in still. Kinda. Cuz I mean I got in, and Mr. Hoodie did too!”

‘Well I think whatever happened means Watchers and Listeners can’t get in. But somehow you don’t count so your magic worked to get you in.’

“But I didn’t use my magic or anything! I just got in!” Vee explained, confusing Astrid.

‘But the server is white listed. You shouldn’t be able to get in without magical means. That’s the only way Ely and Lyarrah can get in.’

“I dunno, maybe I’m whitelisty?”

‘That doesn’t make sense. Wait. Where’s the admin. Xisuma? That’s the name, right?’

Vee nodded. “Uh huh! I dunno. I can ask Stress! I’m staying at her place right now. And then someone else named Joe came to visit because I realized Grifter is not a nice uncle and he likes to lie!”

‘Oh? What happened? Was it just realizing Grian was missing?’

“Yeah, kinda. And I told Joe other stuff too, but then he got really really upset cuz I told him that Grifter told Papa about vigil something or other.”

‘Right. Well. Do you know Papa’s secret name? Because you should see if you can get Xisuma to whitelist Papa so he can help you.’

“Oh that’s a great idea!” Vee agreed. “Imma gonna go onto that now! Also somethin’s on your mask k bye!” And Vee hung up before Astrid could type anything more. 

Astrid just huffed because of course Vee didn’t say anything until the last minute. So before heading back to the main room, Astrid took her mask off to see what was on it and get rid of whatever it was. She saw the patch of gunk and grabbed it to pull it off, only to realize from the spongy texture and purplish gray color, it was more mycelium. Which meant the stuff on Grian was growing. Well, that explained the smell.

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“Alright, everyone grab a cat.” Paul spoke up as they found themselves on the other side of the nether portal, back in the overworld of the fictional reality they were in. The spawn area had looked overgrown enough, but now there was barely enough room for all of them to stand. “Anyone want to cut through the foliage, or should I do that too?”

“I can.” Techno spoke up, pulling out a sword to cut through the vines with. But then Grum moved next to him, pulling out a pair of shears.

“Wait, I thought only your brother kept one of those around.” Mumbo spoke up, wondering if now he needed to keep an eye on both of the bots around his mustache.

“He does. I just made sure to bring every possible tool. I’ve even got a hoe and a fishing rod and a pufferfish! Well technically I don’t have that one right now. Stuff keeps disappearing and reappearing each place, and I guess this is only with stuff present at the time this is from?”

“Makes sense to me. Let’s just see if we can find the center of this mess.” Techno said, getting everyone ready to move. As he and Grum led the charge, everyone else followed along with what Paul said and then did, picking up a cat the moment they could. There were only two at the portal, but that was better than nothing.

As they moved further into the jungle, eventually Mumbo asked everyone to stop. “Does anyone else hear that?” Everyone else tried to listen, but not knowing what they were listening for, they couldn’t tell. Though Grumbot was able to pick out a noise that sounded out of place since he had the hearing of a robot instead of potentially weaker normal ears. “Did someone mention woodpeckers before, because that’s what it sounds like.”

“Yeah, in the past, Bdubs pranked him with some noteblocks acting like those things.” Paul verified. “They were right on his base too, so following that sound should help us find him.”

“Would be a lot better if I didn’t keep tripping every two fucking seconds.” Tommy cursed from the back of the group. He had gotten his hands on a ginger cat, but holding it, trying to keep up and also keep from tripping on any vines left on the ground was slowing him down a lot.

“Need us to slow down mate?”

“Fuck off, I don’t need your pity.” And Tommy tried to flip Phil off. But trying to upset the cat as he tried to also shift it into just one arm. And then it wriggled until Tommy dropped it and it ran off. Plus the struggle mixed with the vines caused Tommy to trip.

One moment, Tommy had fallen to the ground, the next, the vines realized he couldn’t easily get away and seemed to come to life. They wrapped around Tommy, and before anyone could try to grab him, he had already been dragged away into the forest.

Now that everyone had seen what could happen if they stopped, Techno and Grum did their best to cut through the remaining leaves. Unfortunately the quicker pace meant it was easier to trip up, and before long, both Xannes and Wilbur had also been dragged away. Paul was doing his best to help with anyone who was getting caught in the vines, but was getting tripped up himself. The only reason he hadn’t gotten dragged away like the other three was because he was the only one in the group who had some idea of what they were walking into, so keeping him safe was the priority.

Just as Techno and Grum finally cut through the last of the vines and into a clearing, the vines behind the group managed to catch up with the group, twisting around most of them. Techno cut through a few vines to shove people into the clearing, which thankfully these vines didn’t seem to enter, but both Paul and Mumbo found themselves caught by the vines and further back. Since one of the two trapped was his dad and the other was important, Grum ran over to cut the vines up, letting the two escape, but at the cost of finding himself dragged away.

With half the group gone, the remaining members cautiously walked into the clearing. In the center stood a large treehouse, but seeing it was hard in the darkness. Some spots of light came in from above, signaling that it should have been light out, but instead, the sun was blocked out by vines. The entire clearing was made from the vines creating a sort of dome around the base in the center, but there were still vines all over the tree itself, showing that they needed to be cautious even in the clearing.

“So, mind telling us why we’ve got cats?” Mumbo asked. He had picked up a tuxedo cat along the way which was currently flopped over his head like a pair of fuzzy headphones. “I know he’s a creeper hybrid and all that, but that doesn’t explain why there’s so many of them around.”

“Creepers actually adore cats.” Paul answered. “In a completely natural environment, creepers are perfectly fine being near cats. They won’t run, they won’t hiss, they love the things. I once even managed to spy on one purring to a cat. That was a good day for research, let me tell you. Well, anyway, creepers love the things and don’t want to hurt them, but they’re intent on going after us. There’s plenty of research why already, so you don’t need that explanation. But if there’s a cat nearby, they’ll run off so they won’t end up exploding anyway and hurting it, and then they try a different way to you to uh… kill you and not the cat.”

“So if Doc is full creeper, as long as we’re holding these cats, he can’t get us without also getting the cats?” Techno asked, picking up a Siamese one off the ground since he hadn’t gotten the chance before while constantly cutting the vines.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, it might be nice if we stop standing around and maybe deal with the woodpeckers?” Mumbo spoke up. “The sound is getting to me a little, plus creepers aren’t the loudest mob in the world, so it would probably help to make things a bit quieter.”

The group carefully split up, each one of them heading to a different part of the base to disable a woodpecker. Once they were done, they met back up, but one more person was missing. “I know I saw Xisuma turning one off from where I was. So not like he didn’t make it there.” Phil spoke up. “We should probably check there in case he found something. Or… if something else is going on.”

With how many of the group had already been dragged off, no one was really wanting anyone else to end up with the same fate, so they cautiously followed Phil to where he had last seen Xisuma. And then they found him, but he wasn’t the only one they found.

Xisuma was standing still, trembling slightly from the action or lack thereof, of moving didn’t seem like a good action at the time. Especially with the group arriving behind him and the movement catching the eye of whatever thing was in front of him.

It wasn’t Doc, that much seemed to be true. The closest part of it that resembled a creeper was its gaping maw, but even that seemed too wide of a grin of sorts to come close to what was more of a smaller natural frown on a creeper. But otherwise, it was a stark white color other than the vines covering its body. Claws decorated the ends of its arms and legs, which were hopefully red and just had been dirtied to have patches of black, as the other way around would not have good connotations.

The thing slowly moved towards the group which meant also moving towards Xisuma. And since he was also closer to it, that meant it could notice he was moving slightly and go after him again. And that could end up with him being attacked and possibly killed. No one knew what would happen if one of them got killed. None of them had yet as far as anyone was aware, but it was definitely a danger now. If they hadn’t even found Doc and had dealt with the vines and now this, it didn’t bode well for what would be coming.

The thing was inches away from Xisuma when it finally noticed him for real. It hissed at him and looked ready to attack when there was a scream from elsewhere, catching its attention and drawing it away at the last second. But even after it left, everyone still held their breaths for a little longer before finally feeling safe to move again.

“What the fuck was that thing mate?” Phil spoke up first. He was looking between Xisuma and Paul, hoping one of the two would know what that was, but Xisuma was clueless and even Paul had no idea, which was a bit surprising after all of the knowledge he had surrounding mobs of all sorts. “Well, do either of you have any ideas?” Phil asked again, looking at Mumbo and Techno.

Before either one of them could potentially speak up, Xisuma did instead. “I know that yell though. The one that lured it away.”

“One of the Hermits?” Mumbo asked, getting a nod. “Which one?”

Xisuma shook his head after a moment. “I’m not entirely sure. It sounds unfortunately familiar. But I can’t place it. I mean, I can narrow down who it might’ve been a bit. But not quite enough.”

“Better than I could do.” Paul said. “I probably wouldn’t be able to figure out something like that for the most part. I think maybe only my kids since knowing that much is pretty important more often.”

“Do you have any names that feel more likely than others?” Techno asked. “Because depending on what’s going on around here, looking for whoever might lead us to Doc.”

Xisuma was quiet as he thought it over some more. “Possibly Beef, Etho or Ren. They’re closer to Doc compared to some to the other Hermits, at least enough they’re more likely to appear here like… that. Bdubs and Scar are also close enough they could be… but I know that wasn’t either of them. They’re more… distinctive.”

“You mean they yell more, got it.” Techno vaguely summarized before waking past Xisuma, realizing the area they were in had some chests to look through. “Well, this is mostly useless. Just a lot of vines and leaves and other nature stuff. One gapple though, who wants it?”

Once everyone had mentally regrouped, they went over potential plans on what to do next. While Paul had enough knowledge of the Mindcrack days to get them here, now that they had arrived at the base, he was a bit less helpful. It was clear at this point that while the setting itself was from that old world, whatever was taking place was something he was unfamiliar with. 

Phil and Techno were of less help since they didn’t really know Doc all too well. They knew of him, but other than this whole fiasco, they hadn’t really done much with him.

That left Xisuma and Mumbo to take charge, and even though the former was the admin, Mumbo was actually the one to take charge. “I remember a bit about the jungle days in Hermitcraft. I went there to put together some redstone. It was a bit of a mess… but…” and he trailed off before leading the others. He wasn’t the best at guiding them, managing to trip on just about every vine he could along the way, but it was better than nothing, especially when things started to change up. 

Hidden beneath the various pieces of foliage, instead of jungle wood there was stone. And the stone continued upwards, causing the others to follow it and see a vague shape in the darkness, almost like. “Is that a skull?”

Mumbo nodded, not even glancing at Techno. “When I was around to do my redstone project, I kept hearing this… well it was sort of a buzzing. I mean, if you pay attention, you can hear it from most redstone things if they’re powered or active or whichever. But it just sounded off enough that I went looking. Apparently Etho had been building something called the Nexus before he, er, disappeared. And that’s what I came across. Because of that fact and looking at the redstone made me a bit curious, so I went poking around just a tad. After what had happened with La Revolution, I didn’t want to dive too deep, but I got a slight lay of the land. Vaguely.”

“And so we’re going off your potentially shoddy memory?” Phil asked before shrugging. “Though I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Mumbo replied sarcastically. "Besides, it's not like a perfect memory would work here. We did just go from one world to another. So it's obviously not a one to one."

"He's got a point Phil." Techno agreed. Or were you never going to tell us our uncle had a kingdom not even a day's trip away."

"Whatever. Let's just find the kids and X's hels. Hopefully that will also lead us to Doc."

"That's assuming they're in here."

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TW/CW: brainwashing(?) scene, reader discretion advised.

Getting a moment alone wasn’t too hard, it was stepping away that was the issue. Sort of. After deflecting asking where the closest river was, a message sent not too long after helped keep anyone off the trail. 

As far as anyone had to know, they had any plans distrusted by Grifter’s whim. Though at the very least, she was heading there anyway. This whole place was a mess. But it wasn’t a complete waste. Death’s connections were abundant here, and she knew how to graft herself in. 

Finding the castle wasn’t too much of a hassle. Wing made things so much easier for travel, it was such a shame that this side of the universe made it inaccessible. Pity that connection to the wels wasn’t easier. 

That being said, while flight was useful getting to the castle, exploring inside was another matter. It was much harder to navigate, and there was barely a guide inside. But finding her prey wasn’t too hard. Their unique self made it easier to spot where her influence had already landed.

The prey didn’t even notice as she entered the room, too entranced in its project. Almost as if it knew her distaste for the substance it held in its hands. But she could bear it for now, approaching from behind before draping herself over it. “I’m a little busy right now. I just want to get this redstone right first.”

“Oh by all means, finish up. I can wait a little longer.” She cooed, frightening her prey a bit. But she did love to toy with them first. 

“What the fuck are you do- who the hell are you?!”

“Aww, don’t struggle, it will only kill you faster~” And the words seemed to work, making it freeze in her grasp. “You don’t have to die, you know. You can be fixed. You can have worth again.”

“I’m not some shitty worthless-”

She shushed it, not letting it finish its complaint. “Oh but it is easy for certain people to replace you. Not I. You are so invaluable to me. I know you want to stay.”

There was silence from her prey. A good sign. A weaker body did mean a weaker mind. And a weaker mind is just easier to claim. “And you can be healed. But those people will just want to keep it from you.”

“I- I won’t again…” That was odd. Why would they resist now? Perhaps their lineage was stronger. Living in a standard home could help with some resistance.

“Oh but I am different. I am not like them. I will not harm you. I will not try to claim this place as my own. This is why I ask for you to follow. Not force.” Though she knows she could force an acceptance, though it would tire her greatly.

There was more silence before she could feel a mental barrier open its doors to her. “So good. The spores will keep you safe. So good for Mother Spore.”

Scene over, summary: Mysterious person travels to the castle in the NSMP where Grifter, his family and others reside. The person finds who they are looking for, referring to them only as ‘her prey’. The other person is frightened until being told that they will be killed/die if they struggle and that they can be fixed if they give it. They relent and it is revealed the first of the two is Mother Spore, who has now infected them with her spores in some capacity, implied to be their mind.

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.

.

“Well, we found them.” Techno said as they entered one of the rooms of the skull. They were cautious when entering, the vines seeming to have cillected more in there, even just from looking at the door frame, but they were pretty sure it would still be safe as they were still probably in the vine dome. 

Getting to that door also hadn’t been the easiest. Though they hadn’t been outright attacked by vines, the vines had definitely found them. Each of them was covered in vines to some degree. Xisuma had the most, enough that it was affecting his breathing as they had wrapped around his helmet, meanwhile Phil had the least, which he was grateful he didn’t need to deal with too many in his wings. 

That being said, even Xisuma was fine with how many he had because more coated the bodies of the stolen group members. A wall seemed to be made entirely of vines. Trapped within them like flies caught in a spiders web were not only those who went missing, but also a few people who had been crafted by the fictional reality. Etho and Bdubs were woven into the vines along with what Mumbo recognized were Scicraft members and Paul picking out a few Mindcrack people. But there were also a few none of them could immediately recognize.

Carefully moving through the room, the remaining members of the group looked over the wall. Until they knew that saving all those trapped would release them from this place and onto the next , they weren’t going to bother. It would waste time and potentially also trap them. Even releasing Xannes, Wilbur, Tommy and Grumbot was out of the question for now because none of them seemed to be in any real danger, just trapped and unconscious.

Doc also didn’t seem to be one of the trapped. After also having it pointed out that nor was Beef, the last member of the NHO, Xisuma explained, or reminded in Mumbo’s case, that Beef managed to stay around the longest, Doc disappearing before anything happened to Beef.

“What's the chances he’ll be near Beef?” Phil asked before Paul spoke up.

“Currently looking very unlikely.” And moments later, the other four were following his line of sight before their eyes fell on a creeper hybrid, who mostly resembled Doc, but was missing all of his cybernetic parts. “I would suggest one of us try to approach him, but in our current states,” and he paused to gesture at the vines that adorned them. “I’m worried it would just freak him out more.”

“None of us have been fully hybrid minded during these.” Techno spoke up, though he was probably the worst one to say that.

“Well the one exception to that so far is you mate.” Phil pointed out. “And it was also because something triggered it, I wouldn’t be surprised if the same was going on here.”

“Fine then. Let me try.” Techno then offered. “Who knows, maybe that will help it. I mean, I’m the only other competent hybrid here.” 

Phil was slightly offended by that, but Techno was off before he could be stopped, quickly getting close enough to be noticed by Doc before slowly moving closer. Doc hissed at first, but noticed the cat Techno was holding in one hand, so wasn’t attacking. “Hey, sorry to barge in here or whatever. I don’t know if you can talk or whatever, but can you understand me at all? That should be easy enough to nod or shake your head at.”

There was nothing for long enough that Techno thought his assumptions were wrong and Doc was in a more feral mode, but he then slowly nodded. “The jungle stuff is probably a lot, right? Creepers are supposed to like lots of green stuff to hide in, don’t they?” Another few moments before another nod. “But you’re used to it holding bad things.”

Doc didn’t nod, he instead moved his remaining arm near a horrible wound Techno was surprised he hadn’t already noticed. “What caused th- it looks fresh actually.” There was then a noise from elsewhere in the jungle. It was somewhere between a growl and a screech, yet also neither of those. “Doc… what is in that jungle?”

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.

.

“That was pretty short, huh?” Flora spoke up, plopping herself on the couch next to Grian.

“Yeah, I’m kind of tired out though.” And he flopped his head onto Flora’s shoulder. He was mostly awake. Barely. He vaguely recalled waking up and then immediately ending up training with Grifter. Honestly he’s pretty sure he ended up learning more from Sense who was there overseeing or something than Grifter himself.

“We got into some magic stuff, so that probably wore me out. I haven’t done that much before, so my stamina is probably shit.”

“Darn, guess I can’t ask you to show off or anything.” Flora joked, but then Toob spoke up.

“He better do something to pay for staying here, I don’t like freeloaders coming around this often.”

‘Oh fuck off.’ Astrid started signing, though she was sure Toob would understand it all. ‘I can pay you if that’s what you want.’

While he indeed didn’t understand most of the signing, payment being suggested did get to him, and then a few diamonds were passed his way. And it was also passed in front of Grian, which was enough to get his attention. 

“Wait, do you think I could just summon diamonds?” Grian asked, making both Toob and Flora’s eyes light up, Flora then looking to Astrid to see why she thought.

‘Theoretically yes, but only in a way Grifter would notice, and while I’m sure he loves some of you very much.’ She was mainly referring to Flora, but keeping it vague also implied Grian though she knew that wasn’t the case. ‘He’ll probably want to keep the economy balanced or whatever. But I’d totally magic up more decorative stuff if you want.’ And she paused before adding, ‘For special occasions.’

Toob huffed, which caused Silski to come over and comfort them. Grian seemed to have noticed subconsciously that the sculk hybrid didn’t like him, so he scooted away as far as possible when Silski got closer. Flora helped by moving to sit on the arm of the couch before Toob turned to glare at her, leaving her to end up uncomfortably squished against  Grian up until Sahn entered the room.

“I’m all done setting up my room thing!” The ghost basically shouted, shocking Silski so much he jumped, setting off some sort of alarm in the house. “What’s going on now?”

“Ugh… great.” Was all Silski said before he was tearing up the floor, leaving Toob to explain instead.

“We’ve got the place hooked up with redstone. Sculks in general can interact with it, so for emergencies, we have a bit of a security system. Usually what would happen is if we were being threatened or something, Sil would set it off, but you freaked him out enough he accidentally triggered it from fear I guess.”

“I was just startled.” Silski huffed, having removed the boards but was now working on a second layer of the floor. “Goddamn ghosts…”

“Do you need us to leave for a moment?” Flora piped up, but Silski shook his head. Grian looked at Flora curiously, not knowing why she asked the question. He was on the other side of the room, so they probably weren’t in the way. He had offhandedly heard from Sense that redstone could be complicated, so maybe he might have needed quiet to think? Especially since ‘seeing’ meant echolocation of some sort, so more sounds could mess with that. Apparently, he was looking too long with a confused expression that Flora noticed him. “That’s right, you don’t know how dangerous redstone is, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Grian asked, now not just looking to Flora for an answer. He expected it from her or Astrid, maybe even Toob or Silski since they were the ones using it. He just was not expecting Sahn to say anything.

“Oh, redstone is radioactive, meaning too much exposure can kill lots of people. Um… not everyone does… oh! Like sculks and stuff are like… part redstone or something so they’re immune! Oh right, and if you don’t keep yourself safe, it kinda poisons you until you die! Or no uhh… no not poison… but that’s the name… Oh right! It actually messed with your code! And It makes it so you can never ever ever respawn.. My boss has had to deal with so many people with redstone poisoning because so many people forget! Like me! Well not forget redstone like me, I didn’t even know about it before I died! I meant that I just have lots ‘n lots of trouble remembering stuff here and there and uh… everywhere too I guess!”

“You know, you mentioned a boss when you showed up.” Grian pointed out. “You never said just who they are. Especially since you said they’re the reason you showed up, and that they told you to look for me.”

Sahn didn’t get a chance to answer Grian’s question. The redstone alarm turned off with Silski having fixed the redstone, which took everyone’s attention long enough for him to butt in. “So that was you I talked to… not Aven.”

Sahn tilted his head, obviously confused, probably from forgetting having met previously, but the others were also confused since none of them knew what Silski was talking about. “You mentioned your boss, and you also mentioned that Perfect Sense was dealing with redstone poisoning. You were also here to see someone called ‘Spore’ to deal with it.”

Sahn looked more confused for a moment. “I did? Hmmm… Oh wait yeah I did! I needed to find them and get them to do that! Well… it was one of the things I needed to do. I think it was just that and Grian… probably… Oh no what If I’m forgetting something else! Hmmm… oh wait, we were talking about Spore! Oh and that Sense person! Well the chickens say he’s aaaaall better! Spore went and helped him! And pretty recently!”

“Is that why he helped me out during this last training session or whatever?” Grian asked, forgetting his first question hadn’t been answered.

“I have no idea! He probably shouldn’t have… but I wasn’t there!”

Astrid then signed at Sahn, not able to keep her hands from glowing with magic slightly. ‘What are you hiding?’

“What? But… but I’m not hiding anything.”

‘You are. Even if you weren’t there, those words mean you know more than you should about either just that, or everything in general. Who sent you?’

“Oh my boss? Oh that’s right I didn’t even get to say… I’m sorry, I guess I forgot again.” And Sahn hit his head a few times. “Stupid Sahn… and he didn’t even say I couldn’t tell you… right? Well… I don’t think he did. Oh and I’m not doing it again… Uh, well, my boss is the Warrior!”

Everyone but Grian froze, faces paling in shock on what that meant, looking to Grian because of what that probably meant for him. “What? Who’s the Warrior? …What’s going on?”

[luvjoyed]

┃ c!ranboo doesn’t understand gender or pronouns headcanon

summary ━━ ranboo cannot grasp the concept of gender nor pronouns.

pairing ━━ none!

warnings ━━ mentions of gender identity and confusion.

word count ━━ 965

a/n ━━ this was based from a clip of ranboo i saw. i decided to write some headcanons out for them alongside val aka @cumnotfound <3. i wrote the bits with the dashes beside them and his is the italics!

━ ranboo would go by they/it pronouns or would not use pronouns at all actually. it would be something like “ranboo said that ranboo liked bees because of tubbo” does that make sense? it’s like talking in third person.

━ tubbo and michael (as much as he could) would try to explain to ranboo what being non-binary means, or simply just gender in general.

they sat on the floor of their cottage-like home, michael's rocks back and forth added with tubbo's empty stare left ranboo confused and still. tubbo finally spoke up after a few minutes of the silence, presenting a paper with a few pictures and words displaying human bodies with labels to their heads and limbs.

"this is their brain, yeah?" tubbo questioned, his bandaged pointer sticking to the drawing of a stick man made my the pigboy himself. there was a wide grin on the child's face as the hybrid stared at the drawing, trying to understand it entirely before answering his husband's question.

"...yes."

tubbo nodded, dragging his finger to to circle the drawing's head. "do you think it works in a boy-way or a girl-way? or even a neither-way?"

ranboo choked on his words, rubbing his elbows before muttering a quick, "...all?" tubbo sighed as a response, falling backward onto the wooden flooring in defeat.

━ ranboo would not understand at all.

━ tommy would completely forget about ranboo’s gender understanding and call ranboo by he/him on accident.

"is that dad?" the blonde pointed to the multi-colored hybrid as he shuffled papers, trying to not make a mess of tubbo's employment paperwork. tommy had been trying to make michael speak for hours, every try coming out as a failure as the pigboy stared at the blonde without a though in his head.

"what color is his—" tommy caught his tongue, realizing his mistake a moment before the hybrid could himself. ranboo stood still, his brain lagging like a rusted hard drive as he tried to process what tommy just uttered.

"is 'he' alright?" tommy questioned, his voice narrow as he directed his speech towards the tall fellow. ranboo shook his head, telling the blonde to use his name instead for simplicity.

tommy nodded, turning his attention back the hybrid child and continued to give a few more tries at making him speak.

━ poor ranboo would have whiplash from tommy and all of these strange words being thrown at him.

━ honestly, michael wasn’t old enough to understand gender or pronouns either (“like father, like son” they say) so he just called ranboo whatever he was told to.

the child looked up at the tall hybrid, grinning widely as he admired his father's eyes. "dad!" he giggled, hopping up and down with his grin only growing wider.

"dad," ranboo echoed, humming lightly afterward in fondness. "i'm dad!" ranboo exclaimed, opening ranboo's arms for a hug - ranboo's child jumping into them nearly instantly.

"dad." michael uttered, hiding his head between his father's neck and fluffy hair.

━ tubbo made time to write flash cards for ranboo to learn pronouns. flash cards, like ranboo would ever remember. weren’t very good due to tubbo’s dyslexia but a for effort.

"he/h'j'm?" ranboo read, pure confusion laced in ranboo’s voice. tubbo frantically flipped the note card, sighing and tossing the card to the side before revealing the next set of pronouns.

━ ranboo wrote in the memory book about gender and pronouns. ranboo knew it must have had some importance, but ranboo didn’t understand it in the least. ranboo couldn’t help it.

━ ranboo had made a small enderman sound (indicating he’s happy) once phil had talked about ranboo with zero pronouns.

━ not many people knew of ranboo’s “condition” so ranboo never bothered to tell anyone. tubbo was sure to if he were around.

━ wilbur didn’t understand the concept of calling ranboo by the name all of the time until the burger van started and ranboo told wilbur about it all. tommy had even jumped into the conversation though he didn’t understand it much either.

━ techno hadn’t made much of it. nothing surprised the blade. and for once, ranboo felt completely safe with ranboo’s identity.

"eh?" techno perked his fuzzy brow, trying to understand ranboo's slightly confusing explanation. "i don't like 'pronouns'... so can you use my name only?" ranboo twiddled with ranboo's fingers as ranboo spoke, ranboo's tone low and frail.

the pigman thought about it for a moment or two, pursing his lips. after a few seconds of silence, he nodded - grinning slightly.

"of course." techno hummed, crossing his arms against his chest as he leased onto his doorframe. ranboo grinned wide as ranboo could, the happiness washing onto ranboo greatly.

"thank you," ranboo breathily muttered. "so much."

━ ranboo had quite the issues with ranboo’s identity from time to time, but rarely spoke of it unless it was with techno who made ranboo feel better about it all.

━ tommy had been the first to actually noticed the puzzled look on ranboo’s face whenever pronouns were used.

━ ranboo would always ask “who’s she/he?” or “why do so many people have the same name?”.

━ thank goodness ranboo didn’t interact with too many people daily or else ranboo would have been a bigger mess mentally with an added gender crisis.

"what do you mean there's over 70?" ranboo exclaimed, gripping the chair that had been made from the trees tubbo had chopped down a few months back. "there's a lot of genders for a lot of people," the brunette explained.

ranboo's eyes widened, the confusion only deepening. "gender is hard!" ranboo exclaimed, sighing as the brunette began to burst out in laughter.

-ranboo often thanked those who tried to understand ranboo, ranboo was appreciative that they cared enough to accept ranboo for who ranboo was.

[geminisholland]

i’m covered in you Tom Holland x actress!reader

a/n: whew i had fun with this!! i loved writing this so much! also, if you like star wars and want to give my other blog some love @makerkenobi i would appreciate that!! references to my fave song, ivy by miss swift

requests are open

warnings: cussing, angst, and a whole lotta fluff

word count: 2174

join my taglist!

bold and italics are text messages

italics are song lyrics

The hours spent on set between you and Tom had inevitably created a close bond for the two of you. There were many sleepless nights together, running scenes for hours on end before the director finally shot one they liked. You were each other’s rock during the whole process, Tom made a point to come over to your trailer before a particularly difficult scene, and provide support. You were newer to acting, and Tom helped guide you and give you advice during filming. It was safe to say that Tom was your best friend, and you were his. However, playing lovers on screen and having that chemistry was difficult for you to ignore. You knew that deep down, you had feelings for Tom, you just decided from the very beginning that you couldn’t pursue him. You wanted to make sure you established yourself as a professional, which you are.

You were professional for the entire filming process, never having a night where you drank too much and kissed him. Never. You were quite proud of that, because there were many opportunities where you could have. Tom was hard to read, anyways. You never knew how he was feeling, one minute he’d talk about some girl he likes, and the next he’s going on about how he just wants to stay single right now.

The press tour for this movie was coming along in just a few days, and you were doing your best to prepare. Mentally, that is. The press tour was going to have a lot of bonding time. Interviewers asking you questions every day, all day. Sitting next to Tom for hours on end just talking about each other and the movie. Being only a hotel room away from him. Celebrating the movie coming out with trips down to the hotel bar at midnight, you knew this was dangerous.

A ding from your phone made you snap out of your daze, as you picked it up to look at it.

Tom: Are you excited for the press tour or whattt

You: haha yesss i’m so excited & also kinda nervous?? idk why

Tom: I have that affect on people

You: shut up

You: it’s effect btw

Tom: No it isn’t

You: uhhh... yes it is dumbass

Tom: Shut up

Tom: I’ll see you in a few days in the best city ever

You: you’re only saying it’s the best city because it’s your city

Tom: Ya that’s why it’s the best

You: you’re so annoying i’ll see you soon

With that, you locked your phone, and resumed packing. You really only needed to pack pajamas and workout clothes, because all your outfits for the press tour were being brought in by your stylist. You really couldn’t complain about any of this, you got to play dress up for a month or so, hang out with Tom, and talk about a movie you’re really proud of. Oh, and also travel across the world. That part was pretty cool.

You flew into London a day early so you would have time to adjust to the time difference. Tom was kind enough to invite you to stay the night at his house before the two of you left for hotel rooms every night.

When you arrived, you were extremely tied, and didn’t have the energy to hang out with Tom’s entire family, and his roommates.

“Hey everyone,” You said as you walked into his house. Tom was behind you, carrying one of your bags.

“It’s so heavy,” He groaned out, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was never very subtle about what was on his mind.

“Hey y/n!” Harry called out. “We missed you!”

You looked around the room to see just about everyone that Tom knows sitting in his living room. You weren’t expecting to be met with at least ten people, right after you got off of a ten hour flight.

“Oh... hey!” You let out, your eyes were wide with shock. You were really tired, but didn’t want to be rude. “How is everyone?”

You made your way around, saying hello to everyone, as Tom put away your luggage in the guest room. He came downstairs, and you turned around to look at him. He had the biggest smile on his face, he loved seeing you with everyone. Of course, you had already met and hung out with his family and friends, but you were special to him; which means you getting along with his family and friends was really important to him.

“Hey, Tom,” You said. “Can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, darling,” He responded. You grabbed his arm, leading him out to the backyard so you could talk in private.

“That was really nice of you to have everyone here,” You acknowledged. You looked up at him as he flashed you a grin. He was overflowing with excitement, it had been a few months since you last saw each other in person.

“Everyone missed you,” He explained. “Myself included.”

“I missed you too, Tom.” You looked up at him, your arms were still interlocked together as you stood on the gravel, overlooking his backyard.

“I don’t want to be rude,” You started. He furrowed his brows as you continued, “But I’m really exhausted, and I think I need to just take a little nap. Can everyone come back for dinner?”

“Oh, of course!” He exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking- I was just so excited you were coming, and everyone else was too I ju-“

“Tom, it’s okay,” You smiled at him. He relaxed as your eyes met. “I’m really appreciative, Thank you for doing this. I just need some sleep right now.”

“Of course,” He nodded. The two of you went back inside, and Tom had asked everyone to come back later to give you some time to unwind. You walked into the guest room he had made for you, and laid down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as you drifted off to sleep.

Having dinner with everyone later was extremely fun, and you were feeling like yourself again. The entire stay at Tom’s house was incredible, the two of you messed around a lot, but at the end of the day he was really a great friend. The morning you two were getting ready to leave for the press tour, he brought up tea to your room. It was the little things, you thought.

That day consisted of driving to the hotel, getting ready for interviews, and talking a lot about the movie. The two of you ended up in the hotel bar later that night, starting off the press tour by getting drunk. There were multiple days of this; you went from England, to France, to Germany, Spain, everywhere. You and Tom were having so much fun, all you did was talk in interviews, eat good food, sightsee, and get drunk. It was magical, actually. But everything changed when you went to Italy.

“We have Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland here, promoting their new movie,” The interviewer spoke into the camera. You and Tom sat beside each other, smiling as they continued to talk and ask questions.

“Was this movie more difficult to film, Tom? Because of how dark it is?” She asked, and Tom nodded his head.

“Oh, definitely,” He began. “I had a hard time with scenes, but luckily I have an amazing costar who helped me out with them.” He placed his hand on your shoulder as he looked over at you.

“And you, y/n?” She started. “It was also difficult?”

You nodded your head, “It’s definitely something I’ve never done before.” All three of you laughed before you continued. “Yeah, it was very difficult, actually. I’m very lucky Tom was there, there were a lot of tears- on and off screen!”

The three of you let out a laugh again, and Tom took his hand off your shoulder, and it fell onto your lower back. You gave him a quick look before the interviewer continued to ask questions.

“Because this movie is so dark, I thought it would be fun to ask some fun, lighthearted questions!”

You and Tom nodded, and she started to begin.

“What are you favorite colors?”

“Blue,” You let out.

“Green,” Tom responded.

The questions kept coming, and you and Tom were having a lot of fun with them. It was something different, and you liked that. Then, she asked the question that changed everything.

“What song reminds you of the other person?” She asked. You and Tom looked at each other, thrown off by what was just asked.

“Uhh,” Tom started. “I think I’d have to say Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra.”

You laughed, knowing why he said this.

“We had a lot of dance parties in the hair and makeup trailer to this song,” Tom answered. You nodded your head.

“And you, y/n, what song reminds you of Tom?”

You hesitated, you knew what song he reminded you of, you just were scared to say it out loud.

“Umm,” You drifted off. Tom stared at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know why, but my brain is saying ‘Ivy’ by Taylor Swift.”

You and Tom looked at each other, he looked confused; raising an eyebrow to indicate his confusion. The interviewer cleared her throat, then changed the subject. You spent the whole interview on edge, Tom kept giving you the side eye, and you knew you were going to have a conversation about it after.

Except after wasn’t until much later, you had at least three more interviews to do that day. When this interview ended, you didn’t have any time to chat with him. Your makeup artists rushed over to do touch-ups before the next interviewer walked in.

You were in agony, you wanted so badly to talk to him about this, but the two of you had no time alone. You were doing your best to not look at him, you couldn’t make eye contact right now.

Finally, you wrapped up the interviews for the day, and you and Tom started heading to your hotel rooms.

“What was that?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence as you walked back to you rooms.

“What was what?” You played dumb, but still looked at the ground.

“Look at me,” He demanded. You looked up at him, he was taller than you, and you were already in a vulnerable position. “You told me that ‘Ivy’ was a song that made you feel like you were in love, do you not remember that? You said that when we were filming.”

“I remember.”

“Then what the fuck was that?”

You breathed in, your heart was racing and you started to sweat. You were growing anxious. You looked behind him to see your hotel room number, you were hoping you could escape this. Maybe this wasn’t healthy, you thought. Running away from your problems. You just couldn’t handle him saying anything other than that he feels the same for you. You tried to move forward, but he blocked you.

“Don’t run away from me,” He growled out.

“Fine,” You said. “What do you want me to say?”

“What you meant,” Tom responded. He started to back up, so he was against the wall right next to your hotel door. You stood across from him, on the other side of the door.

“What I meant,” You were stalling. He stared at you, waiting for you to response.

You couldn’t look away, though.

So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it. You started it.

Your eyes met each other, and you started to moved your way closer to him. He started walking towards you, your bodies inches apart.

So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it. You started it.

You would do anything for him, anything. He breathed out, and you felt his breath on your face.

“I love you,” You whispered. You nodded your head, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t even look him in the face. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He had a smile on his face.

“Oh, y/n, I love you too,” He said. You laughed, but was abruptly cut off by him smashing his lips into yours. You brought one hand to his neck, the other to your back pocket, trying to find the hotel room key. You stumbled, Tom was closing in on you. There was no space left between your bodies, and you were on fire. His hands were in your hair, and he was pushing you up against the wall. You giggled, you were struggling to put the key into the slot of the door, but Tom ripped it out of your hands and shoved it in the slot. He opened the door, then picked you up, taking you into your hotel room.

Now I’m covered in you.

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