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marie-swriting · 1 year ago

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I know I usually reblog other people's stories on Thursday but I'm making an exception today because my talented best friend just posted her first one shot on Tumblr (the 11.4k words are worth it, I promise you) ! Without her, I wouldn't be writing right now so I'm forever grateful for her and her stories.

If you love Spencer Reid and you're looking for some romantic one shots with him, go check my best friend out (@thefictionalnerdy), she knows how to write Spencer perfectly and she's a brillant storyteller. She also writes for other characters so I'm sure she writes for, at least, one of your favorites.

Kae, I'm so so so proud of you and I love you ❤️

𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 [𝐄𝐍]

LINK TO FRENCH VERSION

Pairing : Spencer Reid x Reader.

Language : English.

Word Count : 11.4k words.

Warnings : angst, hurt/comfort, fluff and anything related in any way to Criminal Minds.

Summary : Five times you flinched at Spencer’s touch and one time you reached out first. (prompt by Whumpster Dumpster)

Song : Deep, de Julia Michaels.

A/N : I confess I went overboard with the word count but that means you will have more to read. This is the very first one-shot I have written in years, so I hope you will enjoy it. 🖤

BONUS : If you want to read it as six separate chapters rather than one long one-shot, it is also available on AO3.

FIRST TIME

It had only been three days since you joined the BAU and you were already swamped with work. Your first case had been solved earlier in the day and now, six hours later, you were stuck writing your investigation report. It was the first one you had ever written, and you had discovered that you did not enjoy it at all. You preferred the adrenalin rush of apprehending an unsub to the boredom of recounting the events of the previous days. However, it was not as if you had a choice, since Hotch was expecting your report first thing in the morning. You could not disappoint him when you were trying to assert yourself as a valuable member of the team. That is why you were probably going to have to stay in the bullpen for another hour or two.

Cross-legged on the chair, you scratched the paper with your fountain pen. A choice of tool that had earned you a few comments from your new colleagues. You had simply retorted that it was a personal preference, in addition to allowing you to be as legible as possible in the eyes of whoever was to examine your report. The problem was, even though you had chosen it to accommodate you, you had to admit that it did not allow you to move forward as quickly as you would have liked.

At eight o'clock, with only thirty minutes or so left, you lifted your head from your file to take a break. A yawn escaped your lips and it was the sign that you were waiting for to go and get yourself a drink. You hoped it would keep you focused just long enough to finish what you were doing. As you rose from your chair, stretching your legs, you decided to have a cup of tea. In fact, you were pretty sure it was the only other choice available other than that awful brew that was coffee. You were about to head for the kitchen when a movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention. That is when you realized you were not alone, as Reid was still here. He was fidgeting with his chair, filling out a sheet of newspaper with a pencil. A thought crossed your mind and you started to move in his direction, stopping only inches from his desk.

“Reid, I'm gonna make myself a cup of tea. Would you like me to get you anything ?” You offered gently.

You would rather kill two birds with one stone and do your colleague a favor - just to score a few sympathy points in his eyes.

Hearing his cognomen, the dark-haired man looked up from his crossword puzzle. His eyes met yours briefly, while you looked away to rest yours on his desk.

“A coffee, please.” He answered in a whisper, smiling bashfully at you.

His voice was smooth. Calm. Nevertheless, a hint of tiredness could be heard in his intonations and you were beginning to wonder why he was staying here. After all, a glance at his desk told you he had already finished his work. You were lost in thought, and it was the fact he started talking again that snapped you out of your daydream.

“Here, just fill this mug.” He had grabbed a mug from one of his desk drawers and handed it to you, waiting for you to grab it - which you soon did.

As you placed your hand under the mug to grasp it from below and thus avoid any physical contact with his skin, Spencer delicately removed his fingers from the handle. He had no desire to drop his favorite mug. The action happened in slow motion and you held your breath, waiting for the moment when his fingers would no longer be inches from yours. He was just about to finish removing them, when one of his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours. The contact gave you a jolt and you almost dropped the cup. Fortunately, your second hand came to the rescue of the first and you were able to avoid a disaster. Spencer let out a sigh of relief.

“I'll... I'll be right back.” You stammered hurriedly, before turning on your heels and heading for the kitchen, leaving him in the lurch.

Under pressure, you tried your best not to drop the cup. It was only when you were a few centimetres from the counter that you put it down. Glancing down at your hands, you noticed they were trembling. You took slow breaths to steady the tremors, then set about preparing your two drinks. You tried to push what had just happened into the back of your mind, favoring to delay the moment when your anxiety would spiral out of control. Now was clearly not the time, especially as you only had a few pages left to write.

While you were preparing your cups, Spencer was watching you curiously from his desk. Although he suspected something, he had to admit he did not quite understand what had just happened. He promised himself he would look into it and find out more.

SECOND TIME

You had been working as a profiler for the FBI for a few weeks and had begun to form friendships with the members of your team. Penelope had become the person you turned to for all the gossip regarding the agents working at the bullpen. Rossi had ended up welcoming you to his place to try his illustrious Italian pasta, and the rest of them - JJ, Emily and Derek - had already taken you out for a few drinks to find out more about you. As for Hotch, he remained true to form, keeping an eye on you. Each of them was beginning - little by little - to acclimate to your presence and let you fully take your place in the team. And then there was Reid. How could you forget him ? After all, he was the one you got on with best. The one who tried the hardest to make you feel comfortable. The one who understood how confusing it could be to be the new girl and have no benchmarks. The one who, when he learned you were new to the capital, made it his mission to help you discover the city by becoming your official guide. So, several times a week, this little genius would take you to visit a new district of the city. The choice was random. One day, it was a historical monument. Another, it was a specific place he wanted you to discover. You were always treated to a guided tour, with anecdotes personally chosen by him, and you had to admit it was something you really appreciated.

On this particular day, it was nine o'clock in the morning and the streets were rather quiet in this part of town. Spencer was showing you new alleys, while taking care to get you where you needed to be. His choice was a cozy coffee shop called Sidamo. A restaurant he had been frequenting for a few months and was looking forward to finally introducing someone else to. He had told you about their absolutely delightful tea, and that was how he had convinced you to go there.

Since you had joined him outside your apartment, the conversation had been flowing. You moved from one subject to another without ever getting bored. Up to now, you had chatted about Impressionism and Romanticism, but now you were talking about Baroque art. An artistical movement you were particularly fond of, since Vermeer and Rembrandt were among your favorite painters. And Reid had plenty of anecdotes for you to enjoy.

“Do you know that...” He was about to give you one of his speech when he was interrupted by the sound of an engine. He did not have time to continue his sentence before a car appeared out of nowhere, just as you were about to cross the crosswalk.

Suddenly and without a moment's thought, he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you towards him, saving you from being run over by the reckless motorist who had stormed onto the pavement. The force of the movement propelled you backwards and you almost collided head-on with your friend's torso. You did not immediately realize what had happened, but the shock made your eyes widen.

“[Y/N], are you all right ?” He asked worriedly.

Your body froze in shock, and you were momentarily unable to respond to any prompting. On the one hand, you had almost been hit by a car. On the other, your body was aware that Spencer's was too close to yours. It was as you looked down that you finally noticed that his fingers were still gripping your arm, and you wished you had not, because a lump formed in your stomach. You needed him to remove his hand - preferably, as soon as possible.

“[Y/N].” The profiler did not have time to finish his sentence as you abruptly cut him off.

“Your hand.” Those were the only two words you could articulate, as you concentrated to keep you from succumbing to the panic this simple touch brought to you.

“What ?” His eyebrows were raised. He did not understand what you were talking about.

“Take your hand away. Please...” At this point, you were practically begging him. Praying for him to put an end to your torment.

Looking down, that is when he noticed that his hand was still wrapped around your arm and immediately released it. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped back a few centimetres. You were finding it hard to bear the proximity between your two bodies.

“Shit. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you ?” He inquired apprehensively as he watched you step back and examine your arm.

He hoped with all his heart that you were not hurt. That he had not held you back too hard. That he had not inadvertently left a bruise on your skin.

After checking that no mark had been left on your limb, your gaze shifted from your arm to his eyes and you finally noticed his tense expression.

“No. No. I'm fine. I'm fine, Reid. It's just...” You did not know how to explain to him that you could not stand physical contact. At least, not since that dreadful day you had been trying to put out of your mind. The one you were desperately trying to forget. And yet, you felt you had to give him some answers. To explain why you flinched when anyone came near you. You owed him at least some explanation for your behavior. After all, he had become one of your friends.

“It's...” You stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed the store front a few yards away. Sidamo was right there.

“The coffee shop's just around the corner. I... I think it would be best if I explained all of this to you over a cup of tea.”

Even though it would take considerable effort, you knew you had no desire to have this conversation in the middle of the street, and being in a quiet place could allow you to regain your composure in peace.

Without a word, your friend followed you into the café. He was lost in thought, not knowing what to say to you. As you entered, you hardly noticed the decoration. You were simply in a hurry to sit down and get on with the story you were going to tell him. Your story.

After ordering and collecting your drinks - a tea for you and a coffee for him, it was not long before you were seated at a table, putting some distance between you. Face to face, your hands in contact with your beverages, you soon launched into a lengthy monologue about your past relationship and the role it had played in your distaste for physical contact. Your voice was trembling as you recounted the ups and downs of your love life, while focusing to prevent panic from overwhelming you.

As for Spencer, he listened to your every word with rapt attention, and with each new addition, his heart clenched at the idea that you had endured such an ordeal. He understood your reactions better, as the shadows of your past were brought to light. As you finished telling your story, he could not stop his eyes from landing on your hands, wrapped around your mug, and he began to think about how he would have liked to put his own on top. As if to comfort you. To let you know he was there. But he did not. Because he knew that was not what you wanted, and he did not want you to react badly to it.

“Thanks for listening, Spencer. I never imagined I would feel this much relief after talking to someone about it.”

Your gratitude was sincere. It was as if telling your story allowed you to be relieved of a weight. You were one step closer to healing. And while you were lost in thought, he could not help but notice that you had called him by his first name. It was the first time you had done so since you arrived in the team, and it warmed his heart to know that you felt comfortable enough with him to stop calling him by his surname.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]. I can't imagine what you've been through, but I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. If you need me, no matter when or why, I'll be there.” Each of his words was precisely chosen to reassure you, and his intonation made you realize how much he meant what he said. He was honest. You could count on him.

Finding nothing to say in reply, you simply smiled at him, before taking another sip of your tea. A comfortable silence settled between you. It was a moment of calm that was welcome given the circumstances, and allowed you to escape into your thoughts as you drank your beverages.

After a few minutes, you remembered what he had been saying before you were interrupted, and confident in breaking the silence, you raised your head to address him, meeting his hazel eyes at the same time. He had obviously been watching you for quite some time.

“I think you started to tell me something before the car interrupted us. What was it ?” You felt the need to know what he was so keen to tell you. To resume this discussion that had been cut short and that you were eager to continue.

Suddenly, the silence was replaced by a lively dialogue on the subject you had left hanging. And while he was happily info-dumping about Annibale Carraci - a famous Italian artist of the Baroque movement, you began to think that maybe opening up to others was not such a bad idea after all.

THIRD TIME

You had been in Townsend, Tennessee, for a few days, trying to stop a serial killer who had already claimed several victims and did not seem to stop killing. His modus operandi was simple : he would tie them to a wall and torture them alive, before leaving them for dead in a field. The only peculiarity of this case was the presence of a few verses from an 18th-century poem on the right hand of each corpse.

After several days studying the case in the hope of determining the unsub's profile, you had a few suspects in your sights and had split into three groups to interrogate them more effectively. Group A consisted of JJ and Hotch. Group B included the Prentiss-Rossi duo. And you were in Group C with Morgan and Reid.

Speaking of the latter, your friendship grew stronger as the months went by. Over time, chatting with him began to have the effect of a drug on your brain. Each of your discussions was an intellectual orgasm, and your brains were never put to rest. That is why, when you climbed into the car to go to the suspect's home, you both decided to sit in the back seat. Morgan had complained about being alone at the front of the car, but you had not paid the slightest attention to his whining. You were far too busy talking about Symbolism, a literary movement that was relevant to your investigation.

About fifteen minutes later, the vehicle stopped in front of Billy Meeks’ house. This forty-four-year-old man, who lived in a farmhouse at the edge of town, was your potential suspect.

Getting out of the car, your three doors slammed together and you made your way to the porch of the house. There, you examined the entrance before deciding to press the doorbell.

“Mr. Meeks, it's the FBI. Open up. We'd like to ask you a few questions.” Your attempt went unanswered, and two rings later, you hooked the clamp with a hairpin. You had no time to lose since the killer had kidnapped another woman.

Walking through the door, you drew your gun from your holster as you entered the house with Spencer hot on your heels. His job was to cover your back if the situation got out of hand. Derek, for his part, had decided to go through the back door in the hope of blocking the suspect's path should he decide to flee. Unfortunately, although you ended up examining every nook and cranny of the house with a fine-tooth comb, you found nothing. There were no clues whatsoever, and Mr. Meeks was not even home. At least, that is what you thought at the time.

As one of your colleagues took out his cell phone to call the rest of the team to warn them that Billy Meeks was probably not the killer you were looking for, a melody echoed in the room. Urging your colleagues to be quiet, you put your ear to the ground to be sure of what you seemed to have been waiting for. You had only a few seconds to wait before the music started up again. It seemed to be coming from the garden outside the kitchen. You rushed outside to follow the noise, which led you to the door of a tornado shelter that, strangely enough, was not padlocked. Without the slightest hesitation, you yanked open the door before going downstairs to the dimly lit basement.

In the half-light, nothing was visible and you could only see the horror scene when you were on the last step of the staircase. There, in the corner of the room, Tara Kirsch's body was chained to the wall. Covered in filth, the young woman appeared to be alive, despite the glaring marks that were bearing witness to the abuse she had been subjected to. Without the slightest hint of perspective, you turned your attention to the victim and rushed to her aid. That was your mistake. Your first in fifteen field investigations. It was because of her that a sharp blow was delivered to the back of your skull, nearly knocking you unconscious in the process. There was no doubt about it : the unsub was there and you had rushed headlong into his lair.

Your reflexes began to take over and you stepped back a few meters before pivoting on yourself, avoiding a second attack.

“FBI ! Don't make another move and raise your hands in the air.” You exclaimed in a firm voice, as you aimed your weapon at the man in front of you.

The latter, his clothes stained with the blood of his new prey, looked at you defiantly. Your mind was racing. You were trying to predict what was going to happen. Calculating the probabilities in the hope of anticipating his next move. You must have been too slow, because, distracted, you did not notice he had started to move forward to pounce on you until it was too late.

Motivated by his gesture and the effect of surprise, your finger pulled the trigger and a thud sounded as the bullet exited your weapon and lodged itself in the killer's torso. His body reacted immediately and he collapsed to the ground, beginning to bleed to death.

“[Y/N] !” Reid shouted from outside, before storming into the basement, followed by Morgan. They had both just heard the gunshot and were beginning to worry, not knowing what had happened.

Soon, both men were in the room with you. Their gaze went first to the suspect lying on the floor at their feet, before returning their attention to both of you.

After checking that the victim was still alive, Derek set about untying her. It was not long before he was carrying Tara out of the hovel. Spencer, for his part, did not hesitate for a second and approached your frozen body. You were presently his one and only concern.

With your gun still pointed at the unsub’s previous position, your eyes fixed on the pool of blood that was escaping from the corpse of the man you had just shot, your body was in a state of shock. You were unable to move or make the slightest sound. Your friend knew exactly what he had to do, and without the slightest doubt, he put his hand on yours to make you lower your weapon. He knew this would snap you out of your trance, and indeed, this simple contact had an instant effect. Your body tingled and you were finally able to regain control of your limbs. Still stunned by what had just happened, your gaze fell on your friend as you tried to stammer out a few words.

“I... I... He's...” That was all you managed to say.

“Dead. I know he is. The most important thing now is that we get you out of here, but first, let me get rid of your gun.” Spencer spoke in such a calm voice that you almost felt like his words were mere whispers.

With his hand still on yours, he removed your gun without rushing you. The shivers had not left you, but unlike usual, the contact with his skin had not provoked any other physical reaction on your part. This was unusual, but you did not have time to think about it. You were obliged to postpone this thought, because you had other things to worry right now : starting with following the profiler's advice and finally managing to regain the upper hand on events.

“Follow my lead. We've got to get out of here.” He said before slowly making his way towards the exit, all the while keeping an eye on you.

Without saying a word, you followed him, taking care to watch your step and not to glance at the corpse lying a few yards away. It was only once you were outside, feeling a breeze tickle your face, that you were able to regain your composure and snap out of the shocked state you had been in following the gunshot. And as you turned your gaze to the man whose facial expressions clearly indicated his concern for you, you uttered the words that would haunt you for weeks to come.

“He's dead. I killed him.”

FOURTH TIME

Following the death of Billy Meeks, an internal investigation had been conducted and your superiors had finally declared that everything was in order. That, despite the mistakes you had made during the case, you had acted in self-defense. That your shooting was justified. As a result, you were able to come back to work immediately, even though Hotch had advised you to take a few days off - which you refused to do. You wanted to get back to it and forget what had happened. He did not object, even though he made no secret of his reluctance.

After returning to work, you got on with your life. You spent time with your colleagues, especially Spencer. He had to admit that he loved your company, which was why he granted you most of his free time. However, he could not help worrying about you. His sixth sense told him that you were not doing as well as you said you were, and it was not long before he noticed the increasingly large dark circles which were starting to appear under your eyes. He was trying to be vigilant, because he knew that the first time an agent shot a suspect was always the hardest, and that it could end up tormenting the person behind it. So he tried to look out for you as best he could, but he was still limited in what he could do as long as you did not go straight to him for help - which he was pretty sure you never would.

Boy Genius was right. Although you gave the impression that all was well, this was not the case in every aspect of your life. Your sleep was disturbed. Your conscience was tormenting you and you had been having one nightmare after another for weeks. You kept reliving the moment you pulled the trigger. You felt guilty, even if the man in question had been a serial killer. Technically, you had served society, but that did not stop you from struggling to come to terms with the fact that you had taken the life of another human being. Your mind could not cope with it.

That night, you woke up with a start from yet another bad dream. Your body was covered in sweat and your cheeks were bathed in tears, while your muscles were tired. You needed to rest, but you did not seem to be able to give your body what it wanted, and you could not decently start self-medicating, when you had a responsible job. You did not know what to do to get out of this situation.

With a dry throat, you got out of bed to fetch yourself a glass of water. Your apartment was plunged into darkness and, as you were used to walking along the path, you did not feel the need to turn on the light. In the worst-case scenario, you figured the flashlight on your phone would suffice.

Just as you had made it to the living room and that there was only a few more meters to go before reaching your fridge, a thud sounded in the apartment. You knew it was probably a misplaced object that had inadvertently fallen, but that did not stop you from panicking. Fear, combined with all the exhaustion you had accumulated, had the immediate effect of making you break down. All you could do was collapse to the floor and start crying your eyes out. You were in a terrible state and needed help. You could not go on like this, or you would end up burning your wings.

A few minutes passed before you reached for your phone. You knew what you had to do. You knew who to turn to for help. There was only one person you could think of. Because you remembered his promise to always be there for you. The one who had told you that, no matter when, he would answer. So you dialed his number. The seven digits that would put you in touch with the man who had become your closest friend - your best friend, as it were. The one you trusted most. The one you spent most of your time with, because his company allowed you to forget your life's worries. The one who - little by little - had broken through the shell you had built for yourself, and for whom your heart began to beat in a strange way. Immediately after you pressed the call button, the dial tone sounded and barely ten seconds later, he picked up.

“Hello ?” Spencer's sleepy voice echoed through the device.

“Spencer...” It was the only word you managed to utter, before you started sobbing again.

On the other side of the phone, only just awakened by your call, Reid sat up in bed as soon as he heard you sobbing. Just hearing your distress had been enough to wake him up.

“[Y/N/N]. What's going on ?” The worry in his voice was clear. He was worried sick about you.

“I... I can’t do this anymore.” It was killing you to admit you needed him, but you knew you had no choice but to put your pride aside. “Please, Spencer. I... I need you.” The magic words had been spoken, and that was all he had needed to hear to decide to barge into your house, even though it was two in the morning.

“Don't move. I'll get dressed and come over. I'll be as quick as I can, okay ?” The brunet had practically whispered his words. Your condition worried him greatly.

“Okay.” That was your only reply before hanging up.

He had answered present.

You had finally acknowledged you needed help and he was proud of you. He had to admit that the mere fact that it was him you had decided to turn to warmed his heart - made it beat faster than usual.

Putting on his clothes at the speed of light, Spencer soon left his apartment and headed for his parking space. He rarely used his car, preferring to take public transportation, but since he wanted to get to you as soon as possible, he made an exception. For you.

On the ground, with your legs curled up against you, you tried to keep warm. To fight off the cold while you waited for Spencer to arrive. To come in and help you.

After what seemed like endless minutes, there were three knocks on your door and you knew he was there. That you were no longer alone. Drying your tears to clear your field of vision, you got up to unlock it. The few meters that separated you from it were unbearable and before opening it, you did not forget to turn on the light - which seemed to slightly burn your eyes. Staying in the dark had not been your best idea.

The door creaked open and your best friend appeared in the frame. His appearance was different from his usual one. He had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a mess. And he was wearing a sweatshirt, coupled with jogging pants. You had to admit you were not used to seeing him like this. It seemed so strange not to see him dressed in his regular cardigan.

Once you had stopped ogling him from head to toe, his hazel eyes found yours almost instantly and a sigh of relief left his lips when he saw you were unharmed.

“Can I come in ?” He asked. His voice was even softer than usual and it made you melt.

“Of course.” You replied, moving so that he could enter your apartment.

As he made his way into the living room, he did not bother to observe your interior. This was not Spencer's first visit to your home. Far from it. You used to have movie or tv shows marathons there - preferably sci-fi related. The reason he chose your place was that he thought his home looked out of place next to yours, and that your sofa was a hundred times more comfortable than the one that sat abandoned in his living room.

You did not forget to close the door behind him, taking care to turn the key in the lock. After all, no one could be too careful. Following him with your eyes, you propped yourself up against the kitchen counter to observe his every move.

“Would you like me to get you something to drink ?” Since you had not had a chance to drink that famous glass of water, your throat was killing you. You needed to quench your thirst.

“I think a cup of tea would do us both a world of good.” He took the trouble to answer you, before removing his sweater to reveal the T-shirt he was wearing underneath. It was the one you had gifted him at a convention - a goodies stamped with the Starfleet logo.

Without missing a beat, you set about preparing your drinks. You needed to concentrate on an activity in order not to think about the fact that your nerves were threatening to give way. You had to control yourself. You could not possibly burst into tears when he had only just arrived at your house.

While you were busy pouring tea into your mugs, Reid sat on the sofa. From his position, he had an unobstructed view of the kitchen. Of you. So he began to observe your every move, picking up on every little detail about you. Details he had been noticing ever since you came into his life. The way you frowned when you were concentrating. Your tangled hair, which you were always quick to pull back into a messy bun. The scrunchie you always kept on your wrist. The many moles he could count on your body. The freckles that dotted your face, forming constellations on your skin. He could not help noticing a change. He was unable not to acknowledge that your eyes were puffy and that your hands could not help but tremble, but the truth was, he did not care. Nothing could change his opinion of you. Of your beauty. Because in his eyes, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

It was the movement in his field of vision that snapped him out of his daydream, as you handed him his mug. He took it gently, brushing his fingers over yours as you sat down beside him. You drew your legs up against you, giving him a weak smile before taking a sip of your tea. Your smile was meant to reassure you - and him, too, for that matter. The catch was that he was not fooled. That, after years of working at the BAU, he was an outstanding profiler - which enabled him to read you. To see the cracks that had formed over the days.

“[Y/N/N].” He launched in, not hesitating to tell you what was bothering him. He needed to know what was happening to you, because it broke his heart to see you in this state. “I want to be there for you. So do you, or you’d never have phoned me in the middle of the night. But I can't do anything if you don't tell me. So I beg you to confide in me. You know I'll never judge you. That I'll be there to lend you a listening ear. To help you in any way I can. I promised you that and I always keep my promises. Always.”

His speech was all you needed to finally find the courage to recount him. To tell him about the ordeal your life had become over the last few weeks. You left nothing out, telling him everything that was going through your mind. Everything that tormented you. And as usual, he listened attentively. He let you talk without interrupting. Simply offering a listening ear and encouraging smiles.

As you went on, you started crying again and his heart broke in two. It was the first time he had seen tears on your cheeks and he was anything but pleased, because he knew it was not joy nor gratitude.

Suddenly, influenced by the intimacy of the moment, you started to move as if to get closer to him. An attempt to glean comfort and warmth from your friend. But your doubts assailed you. Were you ready to let him embrace you ? Was this something he wanted ? These questions froze you, forcing you to stop whatever action you were thinking of taking. It was best to restrain yourself from such thoughts. However, this did not go unnoticed by Spencer, who had guessed your intentions. And after placing his mug on the coffee table, he pulled you towards him, taking care not to hurt you. Your skin immediately began to tingle at his touch, but your body did not object. It let him, because it needed to. You had deprived it of the slightest physical contact for so long that it missed it terribly.

That is how you ended up in his arms, and the position you were in would probably soon become your favorite. His back was against the armrest. His legs were stretched out on either side of your body. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, while his head rested against the sofa. As for you, you were between his legs, sitting on your right side with your legs slightly curled. Your head rested on his chest and you could hear the slightest beat of his heart. You had stopped sobbing and were simply trying to enjoy the warmth of his body. To savor this privileged moment you were spending with him.

Once he was certain that this position was right for you, Spencer began to cradle you against him and it was then, as you were cradled in his long slender arms and that his heart was drumming like a melody in your ears, that you finally admitted what you had been realizing for some time. The reason why it was no coincidence that you had begun to tolerate his physical contact. If you enjoyed his company so much. If your heart missed a beat every time he set his beautiful hazel eyes on yours. You were simply falling in love with him.

FIFTH TIME

After that night, you decided to see a therapist and it helped a lot. You had almost no more nightmares, finally getting rid of all your guilt. Little by little, you started to feel better. To move on.

At the same time, you kept getting closer to Spencer. Eventually, you became inseparable, and although you never initiated physical contact, he was always ready to put his hand on your arm or give you a hug if he felt you needed it. True to form, you continued to shiver at his touch, but you let him, because deep down, you loved having his skin against yours.

Everything changed the day when, while you were both working in the bullpen, he decided to ask you out on a date. You remember that it was extremely funny to watch, because all he did was stutter and he was so nervous that he kept knocking over the things on his desk. Fortunately - and to his great delight - you had gladly accepted, because you did not see anything wrong with having a date with your best friend. After all, you trusted him, he was adorable and you liked each other. So you had nothing to worry about.

A few days later, Boy Genius gave you a few details about his plans for the day of your date. He preferred to keep it a secret so that everything would be a surprise for you, and even though you hated it, you let him. You had to admit you were really looking forward to seeing that. To find out what he had planned for your date.

The big day arrived and you were not quite up to it. Up to now, you had had nothing but positive thoughts about your date with Spencer, but that was beginning to change as the hour approached. Apprehension was at its peak. It was Penelope's quick intervention that calmed you down before it was time for him to pick you up.

It was around one o'clock in the afternoon that the profiler arrived at your house. With trembling hands, you opened the door as soon as the bell rang. There, in front of you, was your best friend whose hands were clutched by an enormous bouquet of Peruvian lilies. Your favorite flowers. As usual, he was dressed in a jacket whose colors matched those of his shirt and pants. He also wore his eternal converse. You had to admit that you loved the fact that he dressed so formally, because it suited him so well and he was so handsome.

As for him, when he saw you in the frame, he could not help but ogle you from head to toe. You had put on a light dress. Something he had hardly ever seen you wear, since you preferred jeans. Your pumps gave the impression that you had long legs and made you several centimeters taller, even though your friend was still a few heads taller than you. Your hair was pulled back into a high, notched ponytail. And your lips were shiny from the use of lip balm. He thought you were gorgeous.

“[Y/N/N], you... You're beautiful.” He had blushed as he complimented you. “Here. These are for you.” He added, offering you the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands.

You began to blush at his words. You were not used to receiving compliments, but it warmed your heart. Then you gave him your best smile.

“Oh. Thank you, Spence.” You said, grabbing the bouquet by the stem and starting to smell them. “Hm... they smell so good !”

Leaving the door open, you went into the kitchen to place the flowers in a vase, then set the container on the kitchen table. The bouquet complimented your interior decoration. It even brightened it up. He had chosen them so well.

Grabbing your purse, you returned to the hall to find Spencer. It was time to go to the place he had arranged for your date.

On the way, the two of you chatted and talked. You even took the opportunity to tell him about your therapy and he congratulated you on the progress you had made, before you changed the subject. You did not want to spoil things by talking about sensitive subjects.

Half an hour later, he stopped when you arrived in front of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. A pleasant surprise, since you had always dreamed of going there.

“I can't believe you remembered that I used to dream of having a date at the museum.” You exclaimed, turning to him with stars in your eyes and a huge smile on your lips.

“Am I to conclude that you like it ?” He asked nervously, looking into your eyes.

You laughed and the sound was like a melody in his ears. It pleased him to see that you were feeling better.

“Of course I am. It's perfect, Spence. It really is.” You replied as you hurried him to the entrance.

You could not wait to discover the museum with Spencer and also, to have the honor of hearing what he had to tell you about the exhibits. Ever sinve your very first conversation, you loved it when he shared with you every bit of information he had ever read or learned. You still remembered his monologue. Those were the first sympathy points he earned from you, and that is where you were today. Visiting an exhibition on your very first date.

You spent a few hours in the Smithsonian before deciding to go to a crêperie for a snack. You ordered smoothies, along with your treats. He chose strawberry and you, pineapple. When it came time to pay, you had gone ahead of him without the slightest hesitation - which had the effect of provoking his pout. In return, you did not hesitate to stick your tongue out at him and you shared a laugh. As you savored your order, he mentally promised himself that he would do everything in his power to pay for the restaurant. You could not wear him down.

As you left the place, you turned to Spencer. You were ready to thank him for the day you had spent together when he caught you off guard by anticipating what you were going to say.

“It's not over, [Y/N/N].” He simply said. Surprise read itself almost immediately on your face.

“But I...” You were not expecting that. You really did not know what to say, because your date was perfect enough as it was. You would never have imagined his plans extended to more than the museum and the crêperie. “Where are you planning to take me, Spence ?”

“Follow me and you'll see.” That was the only answer he gave you, as he began to move in the direction of his surprise.

Intrigued, you did not hesitate for a second to follow him, wondering where he was going to take you. You weighed up the possibilities as you walked side by side. It was six o’clock in the afternoon, so some activities were not feasible. Maybe a restaurant, since it was almost dinnertime. But which one ? There were loads of them in the capital. Without more clues, you could not guess, and you knew he would never tell you what he had planned.

After walking for quite some time, you stopped in front of the building and, looking at the sign, you could only widen your eyes as you realized the place he had booked. The restaurant was one of the city's most exclusive, serving Franco-Belgian cuisine. The prices were astronomical, but everyone raved about it. It was probably one of the best restaurants in the capital. The kind of place that was frequented by celebrities and the well-to-do.

“Marcel's by Robert Wiedmaier ? Spencer ! You're out of your mind. Do you know that ?” You exclaimed, turning to face him.

You were convinced he had lost his mind. That you did not deserve to eat in such a marvelous restaurant.

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you and make everything perfect.” He justified himself. “You deserve it, [Y/N]. You really do.” He added in a whisper.

And without waiting for an answer from you, your friend grabbed you by the hand and led you towards the entrance.

---

The beginning of dinner passed in the greatest calm. You did not know how to act in such a restaurant, so you remained silent. You spent your time gazing in wonder at the decor. It was only in the middle of the meal that your conversation resumed. You were already more comfortable with the idea of eating here. You had just finished your plates when you overheard a conversation between the two customers at the table to your right.

“How cute they are, Robert ! They make such a lovely couple.” An elderly woman exclaimed, telling her husband about you as they left their table.

This had the effect of making you blush, as well as forcing you to look away. Spencer concentrated on the dessert menu, while your eyes stared up at the chandelier on the ceiling. You were pleased with the compliment, even if it had caused a momentary awkwardness between you.

After a minute, motivated by the effects of the glass of wine you had been drinking, you began to stammer out the first remark that popped into your head, in order to get the conversation going again.

“You know...” Spencer raised his head to listen to you, plunging his hazel eyes into yours. “...I think she has a point.” You added.

“Really ?” Surprised, he nearly choked and you could not help laughing at his facial expression.

“Yes, Spence. I think we're a good match.” You confirmed with a huge smile when his cough had passed.

You grinned at each other like two idiots without taking your eyes off each other, while he placed his hand on yours over the table. You were living a privileged moment. A moment that was all yours. If you could, you were sure you would have kissed each other right then and there. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived, as the waiter arrived to ask what you wanted for dessert. Without the slightest hesitation, you opted to share a delicious pastry. This made it all the more romantic, and you were certain that the date would be unforgettable. That you would create memories to last a lifetime.

The rest of dinner flew by, and around twenty-three o'clock, it was time to go, and Boy Genius insisted on taking you home. As you walked through the streets of Washington, he dropped his jacket over your dress when he noticed you had goose bumps, and that was how you walked home. In silence. You, with his jacket over your shoulders. Him, with a goofy grin that never seemed to leave him. And the little extra, your fingers tenderly entwined as if to show the world that the other was all that mattered.

However, even though your date had gone extraordinarily well, the lump in your stomach had not disappeared. Doubts assailed you. Were you ready to commit to a new relationship ? Would your traumas not be a hindrance to your happiness ? Did you really deserve a man as caring as Spencer Reid ? The closer you got to your apartment, the more questions raced through your mind. You just did not know what to do.

As you tried to clear your head, Spencer took advantage of the silence to replay your date in his mind. How he had loved this day ! Everything had turned out just as he had imagined. You had loved the visit to the Smithsonian and the snack at the crêperie, as well as the meal at that fancy restaurant. He was so proud of himself for concocting the perfect date. To have been able to realize that he was in fact capable of seducing the woman of his dreams.

From time to time, he would glance over to admire you, but it was when he met your gaze that his heart skipped a beat. There was something strange inside your eyes. It was as if he saw a glint of sadness. But it did not make sense to him, because you were smiling and had seemed to be enjoying all the things he had planned. Everything had gone well, had it not ?

---

Once you had arrived at your front door, you turned back to your best friend. You did not take your eyes off him, trying not to show what you were feeling. Not to betray yourself by letting your doubts show. You did not want him to think you had not enjoyed your date. You did not want him to think he had not lived up to your expectations. You had no desire to break his heart.

“Thank you for today, Spence ! It was incredible. Magical, if I do say so myself. I loved sharing all these moments with you. It really was the best date I've ever had !” You had unpacked at full speed.

Excitement had taken over. Even so, a hint of sadness was perceptible in your voice, as you looked at him as if he were the sixth wonder of the world.

“But ?” He asked apprehensively, staring at you.

His question surprised you. You really did not think you had let anything show.

Without further ado, after taking a deep breath, you began to share your doubts with him.

“But I don't think I'm ready for a new relationship. I thought I was. I swear I was. It's just that...” As you told him everything that was on your mind, he looked away. It was too hard for him to keep looking at you.

“...I'm too screwed up for you. You deserve someone better. Someone who can give you back your physical contacts. Someone who can make you happy. Not someone like me. A woman who wakes you up in the middle of the night because she can't take care of herself. Who's afraid to let you into her life. Who doubts every little thing she does. Who doesn't deserve the love you could give her. You deserve better. So much better, Spence. You deserve all the happiness in the world and it kills me to think I can't bring it to you.” You cried as you finished your monologue.

Glancing at him, you could only see that his eyes were filled with tears. Salty pearls of which you were the cause. You could not bear to see him so hurt. You wished it could have been different. You cursed yourself for not being strong enough. For being so traumatized that you had to let him go. To let him be happy in another way. Without you.

“I'm such an idiot. I should never have asked you on this date. I should have known you didn't feel the same way. I'm the one who's sorry, [Y/N]. I should have anticipated.” The profiler continued without looking at you.

He blamed himself for the way things had turned out. For not being able to foresee the obvious : the fact that a woman like you could not possibly be interested in a man like him. How stupid he had been !

Flabbergasted, you opened your mouth to speak. He was totally mistaking. Of course you were interested in him. You liked him. You were even totally infatuated with him.

“No. No. No. Spence. You misunderstood me. I really wanted to...” You did not have time to finish your sentence to rectify the situation when he interrupted you by placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Good night, [Y/N/N].” He said before stepping aside.

He did not hesitate for a second before turning on his heels and racing down the stairs to head home.

“Wait ! Spence ! I...” You dashed after him, but it was too late. He had already left the building.

Discouraged, you did not have the strength to go back upstairs, so you dropped onto the first step you could find. You were in a poor state, because your mascara had started to run on your cheeks. It was then that you noticed you were still wearing his jacket. You could smell his scent. That made you sob. You had ruined everything.

In less than five minutes, you had changed the course of the evening. You had dashed all Spencer's hopes. And you were so angry with yourself that, if you had been a mouse, you would have hidden in a tiny hole. Because you had just broken the heart of your best friend. The one who turned out to be the person you cared about most in the world. The one you loved.

(+)

Weeks had passed since the day you broke Spencer's heart, and it had taken its toll on your relationship. Even though he was your friend, he kept his distance, trying not to get too close to you. He had stopped calling you by your nickname and touching you. Clearly, you were not as close as you used to be, and it killed you to see how your relationship had changed.

What you wanted was to reunite with your best friend. The man who had come to your house in the middle of the night to reassure you and who had held you in his arms for hours. The man who made you laugh. The man who introduced you to this city. The one who made you want physical contact again. The one you had fallen head over heels in love with. You missed him terribly, but you could not help but blame yourself, because it was your fault. You had really ruined everything.

It did not take long for the rest of the team to notice that you had drifted apart. That you were not talking to each other like you used to. That you were not spending all your time together. None of them were slow to come and talk to you to find out what had happened, but Spencer brushed them off. He wanted his privacy. As for you, the only person you confided in was Penelope. You had made her promise to keep her mouth shut, and you had the impression that she had managed to keep it a secret - for the time being. What you did not know was that, in her corner, the analyst was hatching a plan to bring the two of you closer together. To patch things up between her two friends.

---

One day, as you passed in the corridor leading to Derek's office, you could not help but overhear a conversation. You ignored it and were about to continue on your way, when Spencer's name was uttered in what sounded like Penelope's voice. You stopped dead in your tracks and retraced your steps. You slid against the wall, close to his office door, to spy on the conversation taking place between your two colleagues.

“Can you believe it, Derek ? Our little genius had a date with a pretty blonde he met in a bookshop. He told me that their first date was so amazing that they are already planning to meet up again. I wish him all the best and hope he'll introduce us to her if things get more serious between them.”

Hearing her words, your heart skipped a beat. Your best friend had had a date. You did not know what hurt you more at the thought: hearing it from Garcia or the fact that you had let your chance slip away. You had to admit you felt a pang of jealousy at the idea that someone else had captured his heart. That it was another woman taking your place. It should have been you. It should be you.

As you replayed the conversation, you could feel the panic rising inside you. This was never a good sign, so you decided to leave your hiding place and rush to the bathroom. You needed a breather. To come to your senses. Because you could feel the tears welling up. That your nerves were ready to give way. That you were letting your emotions overwhelm you.

Once you reached the bathroom, you rushed to one of the sinks to splash some water on your face. You had to calm down. You had to avoid a panic attack at all costs.

In your head, everything was confused. You did not know what to do. Well, you did, but was it possible ? How were you supposed to fix things ? Besides, was this what he wanted ? After all, he had walked away. He had decided to protect his heart by walking away from the one who had broken it. From you.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You repeated, grabbing your head with both hands.

That night, things should never have turned out this way. You should never have let your doubts get the better of you. You should have silenced them. Ignored them. You should have listened to your heart instead of your head. You should have embraced him instead of panicking and pushing him away. You should have fought for what you wanted instead of taking the easy way out. You should have fought for you. For him.

As you emerged from the bathroom after ten minutes of cursing yourself and coming to your senses, you were certain of one thing : you had to find a way to approach him. To talk to him. To make him listen to you. To make things right between you. But more than that, you needed to tell him everything that was on your mind. To tell him every single thought you had about him. To tell him everything you felt for him. You had to before it was too late. Before he slipped away for good. Before he offered his heart to someone else.

---

Five days had gone by and you still had not have found the courage to approach him. You had several opportunities to do so, but you always ended up chickening out. You were so afraid he would reject you that the fear paralyzed you. It kept you from doing what you wanted to do. What you had to do.

At the same time, you did not have time to strategize, because you were called to an investigation in Colorado. So, even though Dr. Reid never left your thoughts, you had other things to do than worry about the state of your relationship. You had to focus on your work and give it your all. Lives depended on it.

---

Two days later, as your investigation stalled and you struggled to establish a suitable profile, Spencer had uncovered a solid lead on the man responsible for these abductions. As usual, the team had split into several groups. As you were no longer teamed up with him, you were assigned Emily and Hotch - which you were delighted about. The duos were respectively in charge of going to the suspect's warehouse and his mother's house, while you were tasked with interviewing his colleagues, and that is what you were doing when you got a phone call.

“Hello ? Hotch, it's JJ. The victims are all here. We got him, but...”

“But what ?” You exclaimed through the handset, snatching it out of your superior's hands.

You knew she was teaming up with Spencer and the beginning of her sentence did not bode well for him. You were inwardly praying that nothing bad had happened to him, as panic began to overcome you.

“Reid's hurt. He fought the kidnapper and it didn't end well. He's pretty banged up. I'd say he's got several broken ribs, but we're waiting for the ambulance to take him in.”

Hotch was about to reprimand you, but when he saw the state you were in, he refrained. Your hands were shaking so badly you almost dropped the phone.

“We're on our way.” He simply said after taking the device back, then hung up before turning to you.

“[Y/L/N]. Prentiss. Let's go.” He did not need to add anything as you were already heading for the car.

As you were already far away, you did not have time to notice that Emily and Hotch had looked at each other with the same expression on their faces. As if they were thinking the same thing.

---

The car ride was endless and you thought you were going to lose your mind waiting. You needed to see him. To hug him. You needed to see for yourself that he was okay. That he was going to be okay.

Ten minutes later, Hotch pulled up in front of the warehouse. Victims clustered outside. Some were being taken care of, while others had nothing but shock. The various ambulances were already there and you hoped you had not arrived too late. That you would not have to endure the journey to the nearest hospital in the hope of seeing him.

Fortunately, just as you had closed the car door, a stretcher was wheeled out of the building. It only took you a few seconds to realize that it was him. That it could only be him. He was brought to the front of the vehicle, before the ambulance drivers returned to the interior of the warehouse to attend to other casualties. This was the moment you chose to rush to his bedside.

Meanwhile, Spencer was focusing on his breathing. He was trying to assess the physical damage the suspect had inflicted on him. So it was not until he looked up that he saw you approaching. You, running at breakneck speed in his direction.

Once you were in front of him, you took a few seconds to catch your breath before throwing yourself on top of him to take him in your arms. The gesture surprised him and sent shivers down his spine, but he did not hesitate for a second before throwing his arms around you to make it easier for you. You had just initiated physical contact with him and he was extremely flattered, but the most important thing in his eyes at this moment was that he could feel your heart beating against his chest. And how he had missed feeling your skin against his !

“I'm sorry, Spence. I'm such an idiot.” You began, sniffing his scent to build up your courage.

He was about to interrupt, but you broke your embrace before placing your index finger against his lips to prevent him from speaking.

“Let me finish. It's important.” You intimated, without taking your eyes off him.

Your hands had continued to shake, but you knew you should not stop at that. You had to ignore the physical signs. To get over this discomfort in order to give yourself up to him. To confide in him everything that was on your mind.

“I was afraid I wouldn't be up to par. That I wasn't the one for you. I let my doubts get the better of me and I ruined everything between us. I pushed you away, breaking your heart in the process. But it wasn't what I wanted. I swear I didn't. I should have listened to my heart instead of pushing you to believe that I'd agreed to go out with you just so I wouldn't hurt you. Because I didn't. If I agreed, it's because I liked you. Because I still like you. Because you're the one who made me feel alive again. The one who restored my faith in love. The one who was always there for me. The one who didn't hesitate to come to me in the middle of the night to comfort me. The one who gave me unforgettable memories.” Your speech’s rate was fast, because you were nervous and afraid he would not give you a chance to finish.

As you continued, you could not keep your gaze from resting on his lips. How you longed to kiss him. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Spencer, who was now smirking.

“And it's driving me crazy to think I might have missed my chance with you. Because the truth is, I'm madly in love with you, Spence. I feel things for you that I've never felt for anyone and I'd understand if you didn't want me anymore, because I screwed up, but I needed you to know that. Because I can't keep living with this secret. So here I am, in front of you, laying myself bare. Because, for once, the best thing I can do is listen to my heart. Because I need you in my life and I can no longer hide the fact that I love you.”

As soon as you had finished, your best friend pulled you to him, taking care not to hurt you. As his eyes kept darting back and forth between your lips and eyes, you understood what he was getting at. It was something you had been wanting for months, so without the slightest hesitation, you moved your head closer and placed your lips delicately on his. His slender hands came to rest on either side of your face. Your lips moved in unison. Shivers ran through your body, but once again, it was different. You knew they were there because you wanted them, not because you dreaded his touch.

When you came to the end of your breath, you parted, taking care to keep your faces only a few centimeters apart.

“I love you, too.” He whispered against your lips, before pulling you to him and starting to kiss you again.

His three little words coupled with his kiss had the effect of making you miss several beats. It was crazy the effect this man had on you. On your body.

As you kissed passionately, your mind could not help wandering. It found his lips as soft as it had imagined them. As for his kiss, it was one of those that left you wanting more. The kind that made you want to share a whole lot more. The kind of unforgettable kisses that stayed etched in your memory.

After a few minutes of enjoying each other's presence, you were interrupted by paramedics coming to move the one who was now your boyfriend. It was not until they had finished loading him into the ambulance that you slid into the seat beside his stretcher. He grinned at you as his hazel eyes locked on yours. You gently took his hand and placed a kiss on his palm before holding it firmly in yours. You had decided not to let him go. To always keep an eye on him. And that started with getting into the ambulance with him and maintaining physical contact with his skin. Because you needed it. Because he needed it. Because you needed each other. Because the bond between you was so... deep.

#masterpieces by other creators #the fictional nerdy #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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oofouchstovehot · 3 months ago

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I think you’re really neat and friendly, and have a big heart with good morals. You like helping others, promoting fundraisers for those in need, spreading the word of good-to-know-info, and answering people’s questions non-judgementally. You are clearly passionate about your interests (so much so it can be contagious—which is a good thing! you are this close to making me find out exactly who Nightmare is and binging whatever they’re from), and I’m glad you’re in the Danny Phantom fandom too. It’s always fun to see what shows up on my dash from you, you have unique ideas and I find often your miscellaneous posts have an entertaining/engaging tone. Maybe I discovered you at a time of change, but the changing profile pictures have me think you like to mix things up in a fun way. You’re fairly social, enjoy being creative even if you do at times struggle like most creatives, and don’t mind yelling into the void at the top of your lungs daring the creatures within to answer.

I could of course be wrong about some things, but this is the vibe I get from you :) I’m really glad we’re mutuals!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGGHHH

#THANK YOU #THANK YOU THANK YOU #LITERALLY EVERY ANON HAS BEEN #LIKE #THE BEST THING EVER #AND THIS WAS SO NICE #btw if you asked me to yap about nightmare #I WOULD LOVE TO YAP ABOUT NIGHTMARE #the undertale fan-verse is one of the weirdest things ever #(and tbh i play with them like dolls more than actually pay attention to the other creators' cannons)#but when you find that little thing that really scratches your brain #MMMMMMMMMMMM #IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT IT I SWEAR #COME CLOSER #WATCH UNDERVERSE FOR FOR MORE CANNON INTERPRETATIONS AND A KICKASS STORY #CHECK OUT BYRDBLOOD'S TAU FOR IMMACULATE TAKES #LOOK AT COOL ART AND COME UP WITH YOUR OWN STORY #THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT #no seriously even if it's just hopping around the scenes with nightmare in it underverse is a masterpiece of fanwork #just go look it up it's all on youtube

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dailyeca · 1 year ago

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sometimes i think that i should be putting him in more complex compositions and dynamic poses and cool outfits and color palettes and pretty rendering and detailed backgrounds and more characters and story-driven comics and personal meaning

and then im like. that's the fucking devil talking. dailyeca is and always was supposed to be a low maintenance blog where i draw an eca a day and this eca can be the most scribbled motherfucker in da world but as long as there's a daily eca then i've succeeded. when i have time to add cool shit i can absolutely do that but even if he's just a sketched up bust shot at 11:59, i'm doing enough because that's just dailyeca babey.

#eca orichird #daily eca #we do what we can. i am doing enough.#for a lot of other things i always feel the need to make masterpieces; art larger than myself and my scope; something with heart and soul.#dailyeca is truly like. not everything has to be perfect. this is my grimy grumpy little asshat and i can do whatever the fuck i want.#(including cursing because goddamnit i am no one's pure little angel baby anymore. i am not here for your judgement anymore.)#im not trying to impress anyone here. dailyeca has always been art for me first. i never truly announced this blog in the beginning.#if no one looked i'd still do it. i draw this angry lonely boy for me. if other people want to see i appreciate it but that's secondary.#that one tumblr poem post. ''you say 'it’s my villain era''' by ridinkskinned. sometimes i feel like making eca was my villain era.#what i mean is that sometimes people hate things when they hit too close to home. what i mean is when i first made eca i felt repulsed.#i can be angry and rude and imperfect and alone. i don't need to facade or fawn or listen at all times and be the perfect little nobody.#i can be flawed and i can still be important and i can still have a happy ending and have people love me without need to change me.#i wrote that i wanted to draw ecas with more personal meaning but every eca posted is a personal meaning in of itself.#you get it. (you probably don't. but that's fine. that's secondary.) i should work on creator and creation again.

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bombshellsandbluebells · 2 years ago

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now that I’m dragging my mental health back to a semi-decent place and feel like I might have the energy to like....write literally anything again, at some point I’m going to write about the importance of critiquing within the context of a written story

as in, critiquing narrative points completely without any consideration of how they are contextualized in the story is a bit unfair.

as in, I continue to see things about the Ted Lasso finale that annoy me. not because people had a different read of the finale or disliked different things than I did - or that they’re critiquing it at all; there’s plenty I will critique or would have done differently - but like, saying things like “Ted going back home to Kansas is bad because he’s clearly miserable about it” is an unfair reading when, within the CONTEXT of the story, it’s not framed that way. regardless of whether it was a choice you liked or how you would have wanted things to end, it’s not framed in the story as a) a bad thing, b) a miserable sacrifice, or c) a thing that Ted is upset about. so there’s a difference between saying “I don’t like Ted going back home to Kansas at the end because to me that doesn’t read as a happy ending’ and “the finale objectively frames Ted going back as a bad thing because it makes him unhappy”

and this isn’t JUST a critique on criticism in regards to Ted Lasso. it’s the nature of fandom criticism in general. “I didn’t like this thing” becoming “this thing is objectively bad in the story” or even “this thing is portrayed as objectively bad bc of this, this, and this” despite that contradicting how the story actually frames it.

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taeeflwrr · 1 day ago

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oh.

(i reached the tag limit but i do wanna emphasise that im not against feminism and im happy yn didn't just succumb to the trope but i truly wasn't paying attention to the preface and didn't expect such a plot twist and angst and ending so I'm really shaken up because i was expecting something cute and silly and now im in actual physical pain and i need a resolution to this (hopefully a sequel where jaem's a better man and actually loves her) to make me feel better.))

(also omg somi was such a nice person only she knew the real him while all his other friends were nasty fake bitches. she actually cared and knew him even though she wasn't even there most of the time. also I need to know did jaem break up with his friends after the incident or is he still with them senior year? what made him switch his major? also did he ever even actually love her or did he think he did at the time? oh god the pain is getting worse this truly broke me shsjsjsjsj i need to cry I NEED A SEQUEL)

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting.

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

Keep reading

#i didnt read the tags and warnings properly and now im broken #this broke me #why does it hurt #i felt so called out the whole time #literally felt the whole life in rose coloured glasses in real time and then felt it as everything broke away oh god #im in physical pain i did not expect it to end in such painful angst #im so happy yn knew her worth and didnt put up with jaem's bs #but i wasnt expecting the angst i really needed him to open his eyes and realize what an asshole he was and then grovel and get together #my brain is not functioning #i was listening to music while reading and i literally had to stop and read in silence because of the disbelief im in #somebody sedate me #this is a masterpiece but please i need a sequel tell me it gets better tell me it stops hurting #tell me jaemin is a changed man that actually deserves and truly loves abd cherishes yn and yn is a badass who knows her worth #and they finally get together as successful adults in the real world #please stop i need this sequel it cant end like this #im actually crashing out in real time i wasnt expecting angst and i wasnt expecting it to end like that #this is not real life this is fantasy so i need them to get together #they love each other... right?#please im going crazy why has this actually broken me #i cried #how do i move on from this #what if i can never read another work of this creator's because im too scared i dont pay attention to the tags n summary n end up like this #oh jaemin #i cant look at barbie and ken the same again #this broke me truly #im so sad #send help #need cute soft fluffy HAPPY comfort nana after this #i cant stop tagging im going crazy you dont understand #NO BECAUSE I REALLY THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE CUTE SILLY FUN LIKE ITS CALLED BARBIE GIRL BUT IM SOBBING WTF THIS WAS EVIL

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dzthenerd490 · 3 months ago

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Creator Promotion: Tooley1998

This is a creator you guys will really want to check out because the creation being made here is a Voxel game that is like Minecraft but FOR ONCE, is so much better in every single way.

youtube

^ This video right here is where weapons and enemies are displayed hopefully the beginning of much, MUCH more to come.

youtube

This is an awesome video about how he builds a house with the mechanics of the game all of which are a little complicated but fucking awsome!

There are so many other videos on the channel showing all the amazing features of the game as well as how it has all progressed form the development stage. But they don't just take my word for it, check it all out yourself and see why you might wanna show your support to this project.

#DZtheNerd #Creator Promotion #Just trying a new thing #Wanting to show support for other creators especially when they are more talented than me.#But seriously this game looks amazing I hope it makes it and becomes a masterpiece.#Indie games are better than AAA games!#Youtube

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yeslordmyking · 11 months ago

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Ephesians 2:10 — Today's Verse for Saturday, February 10, 2024

#God #Jesus #christianity #faith #God's creation #God's image #God's masterpiece #God the creator #you belong to God #live for God #godly purpose #serve God #serve others #show God to others through your actions #bless others #God loves you #bible verse #heartlight

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nemesyaaa · 3 months ago

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losing my religion // dark!cult leader!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; god loves you but not enough to save you.

warnings : mentions of religions. manipulation. cult. smut. corruption kink. small town church trope. religious trauma. purity/innocence kink. slight of god complex. first time. dark/soft!rafe. mentions of murder. sweet lamb trope. coercion. smoking. little age gap. heaven goal. mentions of size kink. glorification. be careful with the warnings. minors DNI.

author's note : it's around 5k words. pfiouuuu. televangelism by ethel cain playing in the background please.

“ father, will i go to heaven ? ”

“ father, will i be this good all my life ? ”

“ father, where was god when i thought he was there ? ”

“ father, did god let me sin on purpose ? ”

you lived in a small remote village, the kind of town where everyone knew each other, and where there were no secrets. well, you thought there were no secrets because everyone here was a true and firm believer. all the locals lived for god. and you would do anything for him and for your ticket to heaven. you had been baptized as a baby and had grown up as a child of the lord, and his most faithful angel. you have acted so well since your childhood and were sure that your death will be a pleasant trip to paradise.

you went to church every day because you always had something to say to god, to ask him, to make him understand. you prayed to speak to him, for him to see you, for him to hear you, for him to know how grateful you were for the life he had given you. your parents had always recommended that you cherish your existence, but also everything that happened to you, the misfortunes as well as the pleasures. life was neither all rosy, nor all white, nor gray or black. you were the only person to give it color. so your religious sister told you that you just needed to know how to paint, but that sometimes you would fail, you would fail but that it didn't matter. because you will make a masterpiece again sooner or later.

you were a devoted child, a faithful lamb with no anger inside, but above all full of love. you gave it to everyone when god had taught you and commanded you to share it as much as possible, that it was this feeling that would bring peace on earth. and who did not want peace, who did not want to please his creator? you were a good girl, so sweet and innocent, the kind sweetheart of the town, incapable of harm or sin, always dressed in your white dress and your little black shoes. you wear everything that can please god. you walked through the church hallway to join the choir, holding the candles. the world had his eyes on you, but especially this tall man lodged in the dark corner.

this man was not god and you knew it, because god would never look at you that way.

you wouldn't know how to describe this gaze on you, but it made you uncomfortable. you continued to move forward, holding the flame preciously against you. you sang with your angelic voice, glory to the almighty, glory to the one who made your existence so beautiful, to bring your back to life every time you felt, and this guy was still staring at you like you were the only person that existed, like the world had taken away the entire universe except you.

maybe you were an angel. after all, you were among the Lord's faithful.

you had never dated a man in your life. your parents and god forbid you, because you needed to stay pure for the good one. you had to remain virgin and clean for your future husband. you were forbidden to look at them, touch them or talk to them except for church activities. you were so loved by god so you had no right to sin, no fucking right to betray him. you had to remain as intact as the mother of everyone, as virgin mary.

you were as holy as the bible, the treasure of the creator. you were devoted like a lamb to his owner, as the followers to the cult leader.

you had never experienced something like touching yourself, making yourself feel good, and anything that included carnal pleasures. you didn't know about pornography, sexuality and lust. you walked away from it as if it were the devil. you were unable to make your god mad, you were too scared for that.

you were faithful to the lord. you helped the people of the village, homeless, the destitute, poor children, the elderly, you helped the world become a better place even when it seemed to be turning against you.

at the end of the mass, everyone, the priest had sent you to collect the funds from the locals.

you were standing in front of the steps. people were always kind and smiling to you as you were collecting funds for the church.

and you had been waiting for this voice to come at you.

“do you really want to go to heaven ? ”

you turned to face the man from earlier, the one hidden in the benches. you answered him with the sweetest smile, and the most nervous look. "yes, i do everything to go there. am i not good enough ? "

“everything?” the stranger had laughed kindly, but it had offended you slightly with that soft giggle.

“ why are you laughing ? this is not funny. ”

“ slow down, baby. you're too pretty to get on your nerves. ” he had pulled out a cigarette.

“will you forget God for a second and be an angel to me ? ”

“ God is in my heart, is in me. i can't forget him, even for a second. he's the reason why i'm living. ”

“ be sweet, angel and light it for me. don't say no, your divine father is watching you, you don't want him to catch you refusing to help a stranger and be mad at you? ” you looked at him with strange open eyes but you accepted. because he was right.

you didn't know how to say no to people. God didn't teach you to say no. people needed to help the people.

you lit his cigarette, and during the whole process he looked at you, his glare scanned your face. you were staring at him, and saw your own silhouette in his eyes, your shadow dancing in the perfect blue of his pupils.

you felt the heat in your cheeks, the burn of his gaze on your skin. you were unwell. you didn't like this situation, the unsteady feeling, the stranger proximity.

when you met him, you felt like a sinner more than a believer.

but he smiled at you. the soft kind of smile that made you forget everything, that made you feel so dumb.

“would i go to heaven now?” you teased him with a small laugh to echo his words.

“not yet but i can help you if you want if you're serious about that.” he answered.

“ i'm serious. ” you were really curious, and he had your full attention. you knew it wasn't good to talk for that long with a man. especially, older. but you took the risk.

you should have stopped when he complimented you because your parents said that men who are nice to girls like you always have bad intentions. but there was also something so charming and bewitching about this man. the way he was adorable. you didn’t see the evil in him.

“i really want to go to heaven, i swear on my life, sir. ”

“ sir ? such a polite thing but i'm not that old, sweetheart. i'm tall, not too old. ”

“ anyways, i really want to go to heaven !! ”

“you already said it, doll. i think God is tired of hearing it now. he wants proof, you know. he needs to see how devoted you are to him. ”

“how can i prove it to him?”

"i know God. i talk to him every day. i am his ruler. do you know what that means? that i am the one who decides for him whether people go to heaven or not. i am his most loyal servant, so he trusts me.”

“are you really connected to God?”

"you are too. we all are but the difference is that i can take you to heaven. i promise you." he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently , a tender and unique gesture that made you shyly smile. “i’m not an angel. not yet.”

"yes, i assure you. i knew it as soon as i saw you in that church. join me." he announced with a warm voice.

“you have always been divine, i never doubted it. you have to go to heaven, you understand? you can't behave so well, be so charitable and disappoint God? and you wouldn't dare doing it, don't you, pretty lamb ? because do you think he will forgive you ? no, sweetheart. you will be punished and rejected like every sinners. ”

“ you're wrong ! God loves me ! ”

“you don't understand. you must be perfect until the end, you must be a great god masterpiece, not his biggest failure. you can't just be the chorus of this choir, be the beautiful thing who holds the candles at mass, the kind soul who helps others. you can't be just that when i can offer you even better and absolutely everything you want. any of your wishes. join me and i will make all your wishes come true, i will make you the new face of the paradise. i will make God see you everywhere. ”

"it seems so unreal...i don't know..."

he had cut you. he didn't want to give you time to think, leaving room for the barrier of doubt."you have to join me, isn't that what you wanted? for me to find you? if you believe in god, you have to be a good girl, make the right choices. "

“okay….” you finally agreed.

he waited for you in his car, one hand on the steering wheel. and you joined him inside. there was so much euphoria in you. you felt like you were doing something so right, so you had this goofy smile on your face.

"does God think i'm a good believer ? i pray every day, i attend mass every time, i sing in the choir and in my rooms all the songs dedicated to him. i only have the Bible as a book and i read it all the time. i can't do anything wrong. i'm good, i promise, i'm good. ”

"is that true? you'll have to show me so I can tell."

“I’m going to pray for you too.” you added. “I pray for all the souls in this world.”

“oh yes my angel will pray for me. i want to hear your prayers, all your prayers about me. but not in front of me. "

“ why ? ”

“ seeing you bent on your knees for me will make me sin. i wish you could see the kind of temptation you are. ”

you had arrived in front of a mansion. you were so flustered and nervous. you didn't understand what you were doing in front of this place, and why he had brought you here. he took your hand, reassuring you with his touch, and guided you inside.

you were not alone. there were other people, women and men. all dressed slightly the same, as if there was a regulation outfit. the atmosphere was strange, a little sectarian. there was an organ playing in the background, and everyone was looking at you kindly so you tried to relax.

"don't be afraid. they're like you, they just want to go to heaven. can you understand?"

you nodded and he showed you around all the places. he even showed you a room and said it would be yours. she was pretty, absolutely perfect but she wasn't yours. not that of your house.

"I'm not going home?..."

"what do you mean? this is your home now. we're a family."

"a family? i have parents, they will worry…”

"i thought you wanted to be close to God. were they lies? you know, you shouldn't joke with religion, and with words. if you want to be a good little christian, if you want to go to heaven, it is to me, and only to me, that you must be devoted.”

"I...I...no, i promise! I'm sincere! i'm sorry, really, I'm sorry. " you now felt terrible. there were so many tears in your eyes, you couldn't even see the room clearly.

the man smiled before taking you in his arms. "it's nothing, you just need to be clearer with your words, okay? I'm your only savior, you don't need others.”

he had wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I have a gift for you…” he whispered and you found your smile again.

no one ever gave you gifts. it was so rare. “open it” he told you.

it was a dress. not the one you usually wore. “you have to put it on. don't you want to shine, shooting star ? ”

" now ? "

"now." his voice was a little firmer.

“i can’t change in front of you…” you admitted. "you're a man...and I'm a girl...it's sinful, it's like having sex! we have to get married to have that intimacy. "

he smiled and laughed. "you've never been naked in front of someone? you've never left this body in front of someone else?"

he had approached, slipping up behind you, towering over you with his height, his hands resting on the corners of your trembling shoulders.

“my sweet thing, it’s as if you’re begging me to corrupt you.”

“what do you mean?”

“that i must see this body.”

" Is it bad?"

“What would be bad, angel, would be to upset me.”

he had pulled the tab of your dress to lower it a little. there were shivers in your body. you felt like you were doing something wrong.

"you're not doing anything wrong. this is what god wants you to do. he told me."

" It's true ? "

“ only the truth. just now. i wouldn't dare lying to you, my sweet. ”

there was nothing you could refuse god. If it were his will, you would do anything.

"but I've never done anything like that? I always thought it was wrong, that I didn't have the right."

he pulled your dress down to the floor, your naked body revealed in the mirror. you could feel his gaze growing more intense as he took in everything you had shown him. "is my body okay? I mean, this is the first time anyone has seen it so..."

"sweetheart, I've never seen anything so beautiful. but I don't just have to see it to judge it, I have to touch it. will you let me ? "

“Lust is a sin.”

“do you want to know my name?”

you had just now realized that you didn't even know his identity. you nodded your head.

“rafe.” he spelled it. “ you must know my name to pray for me, but also to glorify me.”

“glorify ?”

"you must glorify me. salute me and worship me. these are the rules if you want to go to heaven. you must be devoted, I told you.."

" fine…”

he sat on the bed, and you moved closer but he stopped you.

"no, no. all this sweetness but no useful brain ? ” he mocked. “ to worship me, you must be on your knees. ” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“ treat me as the same way you treat your god, angel. because this is what i am to you. i want to see your legs bow down for me, i want to see them treading the ground up to me. i want to see that precious look at the same height of my knees, let me see that head lifted up to glory me. "

he had lit a cigarette, the fourth since you had spoken, and had smiled when you started walking on your knees towards him.

he pressed his hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“open your mouth.” he commanded and you obeyed, and he slipped his cigarette between your lips. “don’t smoke it, hold it only. don't go against my rules. can i trust this dumb baby brain for once to not disappoint me ? ”

he had taken off his pants, with his boxers. and you turned your head, strongly ashamed by his action.

he mocked gently. “in your place, i would not look away, that would avoid unpleasant surprises when this thing will be buried inside your virgin cunt, sweetheart. ”

he had retrieved his cigarette, and turned your head towards him.

"I can't believe you've never seen one. you've been such a good girl to me. you've been waiting for me. "

“will god hate me?”

“how can i show it to you?”

"it's not god you have to fear, it's me, sweetheart because I'm the only one who will decide for you from now on. do you understand? I have to be sure that you are deserving."

“give me your hand. let me guide you...do you trust me? ”

“ i trust you, rafe. ”

he had positioned your hand on his cock which was already hard. you shivered. your hand was clumsy around his painfully boner. yet you had heard him let out a grunt.

his fingers moved with yours, accompanying you in his lewd movements. you had god in your head, heart and body but your fingers fisted around that thick dick made you warm and good. you hated that feeling, but you can't deny the pleasure. it was the first time. you weren't used to it. you moved back and forth with little confidence, while he kept your grip around his bulge. you followed his back and forth, pumping him with fragility. you weren't sure if it felt good but his muscles had tightened.

your fist slid over his length, your hand working massively. your touch was divine, he threw his head back. you could feel his abs twitching in synch.

“open those legs. let me see that sweet untouched pussy. i'm gonna take such good care of it. are you still trusting me ? ”

“ yes…”

you didn't want to. it flowed between your thighs, the wetness spurted in a mess on the floor. and you weren't sure if that was a good thing. you couldn't tell if it was pleasure or not. it was new to you.

“trust me, you don’t want to make me repeat that a second time. do you ? ”

and that was enough for you to bend to his will.

"you feel, baby ? the sweet mess between your legs ? don't hide from me. ”

you continued to masturbate him up and down. you turned him on so much that he already wanted to come in your hand. his cock twitched in your hold and his balls slapped repeatedly against his skin.

"does that make you feel good? do I need to do better? do you want me to put my lips on..."

he had cum on your face. and you stepped back in surprise. “let me clean you up…”

you came back to him thinking he was going to wipe you but he caught his seed with his fingers, and brought them to your mouth. “if you don’t want me to put them down your throat, you better lick them now.”

you lapped up every last bit of cum on his fingers until they turned white again. you knew he was serious when he threatened you. "that wasn't really a warning, I'll do it someday. I really want to use every part of your body. and you'll let me. yes ?”

“whatever you want...”

he smiled and stroked your hair. “you learn quickly.”

you didn’t really know why but his recognition made you happy. she had an impact on you. you needed, and sought, his validation. it promised you to be even closer to god, to show god that you were faithful to him.

you had this urgency to please rafe, to show him that you could be really good.

for rafe, you were another girl that he led into his cult, another lamb in the troop. you were perfect, you always had the profile. he knew it as soon as he saw you.

he had come to the church only to see you. he attended every mass and ceremony hoping to corrupt you. you were so innocent, so kind and so sweet, and above all, you were ready for anything.

you prayed every day and read the Bible. so you had a desire, a goal, a faith.

he had placed you on his legs, his hands caging your waist, wrapping each part of your hips. “I’m going to make you an angel.” he had said, rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet entrance.

“I’m going to go to heaven?”

"it's heaven that will beg for you to come to it, I can even say. but you still have to do one thing for me..."

“tell me. I’ll do anything.”

" good. i really want you to take that dick. show me how much you want to reach eden, i want to see god in you when i'm fucking you. i want to hear prayers in that mouth for how i make you feel, how perfect i am to you and that sweet cunt of yours.”

you rubbed your dripping pussy against his cock, feeling the feverish, leaking tip against your slick folds. you had gently entered him between your impenetrable walls until now, letting out a long and loud moan when you felt his dick getting even harder inside you. It took you several bounces on his thighs to get used to, your pussy stretching around him. you could feel every inch of his length filling your canal but also widening it.

his large hands covered your ass, gripping the gummy flesh of your cheeks, his body moving and following your movements. he had grabbed your face to force a kiss from your already open lips, sliding his tongue against yours. a drool dripped from your jaw, as your pelt slammed and bounced violently against his. your hands were around his neck, trying to keep up the pace.

seeing you struggling and jiggling, he laughed. “even if you had prayers, you couldn’t even say them, too fucking dumb for that shit, right now ? ”

and it was true, you weren't even able to say a word without gurgling. you had tears streaming down your face, your moans were locked against rafe's glossy and pretty mouth, and you were trying hard to take his big cock as best you could. his dick was stuck between your sticky walls, your breasts hitting her toned chest.

“keep going, you’re perfect…” his smile was evil because it motivated you.

you were riding him without even being able to think. you were a fragile little thing doing bad things with a bad guy.

but you wanted to please him. you wanted rafe cameron to think you were good and deserving. you wanted to go to heaven, so you did your best.

and he knew it. you had broken your purity for him.

you were convinced to do something right, convinced that god saw you and that he would be proud to see you so devoted to him.

you didn’t see the harm. you were an angel and you let a demon corrupt you.

you had succumbed to man and his vices, you had let sin enter into you, and let it do you good.

rafe knew what he was doing. you had been his prey. and he couldn't wait to see you at his feet, to make you his perfect doll that he could handle so easily.

because it was only the beginning before you were completely his, completely in control of you, choosing what you eat, what you want, what you wear, what you think.

you were his and his only.

you were his nice girl, not god's one, the one who smiled at everyone, who always prayed in the church pews, who helped those most in need.

he had found you and snatched you from god. because it wasn't him to whom you owed your life. you were wrong and he had to correct that.

you were an angel, and he loved seeing you cry for him. your tears was made for being looked by his ocean eyes, to felt loved by his kisses.

he was completely buried inside you, plunged so deep that you were completely dizzy. and every time you thought he couldn't go any further, he surprised you. you were pretty sure he could put a baby inside you right now, just from the way his cock thrusted inside you, invading your shaking body.

you had squirted and cried, accompanying your tears with apologies. "you're fine. it's just means you liked it. it will also happen to me, angel. don't worry.”

the more he called you angel, the more you began to believe that you were one. you had squirted again but now you weren't scared anymore because he had reassured you. you had been afraid that it would be a disgusting thing and that he wouldn’t want you anymore.

but it was so strange. he was both gentle and cold.

“stop...I’m going to be pregnant!”

"that's not how it works...but if that's what you want, I can take care of it...whatever the angel wants.”

after that day, your life had been totally different, completely transformed by rafe.

you were part of this community now. you were all brothers and sisters, united for a common goal. you always prayed. but above all, you were completely manipulated. you were so controlled that you forgot your family, your friends, your entourage, your involvement in church. only god remained with you. he was still there.

you wore the outfits rafe wanted you to wear, you ate the food he wanted, you only talked about topics he allowed, you became someone else. you were what he wanted you to be.

but one night you heard god. you were sure it was his voice in the darkness. you were sleeping in rafe cameron’s arms, his bicep resting on your stomach. it was strange to see him sleeping like a child when he behaved like that.

you had begun to follow god’s voice in the darkness, your feet pacing and pacing through the empty hallways. the light guided you, it was he who accompanied you. he pulled you out, into the huge garden.

“do you think you can leave? do you think you can leave me ? are you that fucking dumb ? ”

Rafe’s voice made you jump. you weren't sure if you woke him up because you were a quiet person. but now he was in front of you, and he really didn't look very happy.

"I have to leave..."

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“god spoke to me.”

"oh really? god may be talking to you but you need to listen to me. aren't you grateful for the life i gave you? didn't you want to be good? you're tear up your ticket to paradise. just bury yourself alive at this point."

tears had started to fall down your cheeks. you felt trapped because you didn't know who to listen to. god or this man?

your feet moved towards rafe. as you approached, his arms stretched out as if to reassure you.

“i’m sorry….i'm really sorry…..”

“i know you are but you also know that it’s not enough.”

“so tell me what i need to do to be good enough? ”

“you must sacrifice yourself. ” he said with that deep serious tone.

you looked at him with fear. you couldn't kill yourself.

“ i can’t kill myself, rafe…”

“i know, angel but don't worry, i will. ”

“ what do you mean ? i always did what you wanted me to do, i always been so good to you, i never be against you and your rules ! you promised me heaven, you promised me....everything. was that a lie ? you 'ever be serious to me ? answer me...never ? rafe, i was all what you wanted me to be, even that was not enough for you ? ”

“ i really wish you were. any last word, baby? ”

“ can you at least shoot me in the heart ? ”

“ tell me why...”

“ it's the last part of me you never took away from me. but now that i will die, you can take it. it's all yours. ”

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bugflies00 · 30 days ago

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i have so many thoughts about the tommy song/video and theyre a jumbled mess. i wouldnt call this an analysis this is just. most of my thoughts surrounding the video and what it shows about tommy

one of the things that stuck out to me (outside of how depressing and just like. is this guy okay) is something that ive always respected tommy for because he's always stuck with it and its his like. fervent conviction in people doing things theyre passionate about. thats always been one of the things he talks about all the time!!!

when AI started appearing he was talking about death of creativity, with the internet he's always talking about how the real tragedy is the algorithm killing people's passion by driving them with views and money, and even when he talks about youtube itself, and nowadays standup, its so full of passion.

and i think thats really important because it would be extremely easy for someone like tommy, who's in the process of maturing his online image from a very loud, immature and PASSIONATE persona, to make fun of it. it would be so easy to do like so many other creators and laugh at how "cringe" it was and make a quick cash/attention grab with a funny clip of him laughing at himself. but he never has. well don't get me wrong he's laughed at himself or old videos but it's always just. good natured taking the piss out of himself, it's never this like. mocking your younger self who was so excited to do what they did only because now its "cringe".

not only is he constantly giving that advice to other people (its been years of him replying, to any kid in his chat or donations asking advice on how to be a creator etc, "just go and do it if you love it!!"), he's coherent with how he applies it to himself. he realised he was making cash grab tiktok react vids and hated it so much he just stopped uploading for a while.

i dont know i just think there's something admirable about being able to still be sincere in a time where everything especially online has to be processed through a layer of irony. and its even funnier because he's more sincere THROUGH the irony i mean he's literally going into standup.

letting yourself create something that "means" something is fucking hard especially when half the internet still sees you as a kid who screams around. except the thing is that kid DID make stuff that mattered and that meant something because he was, in his own words, having fun.

i think thats what the format of the video was about too. i mean i think it was pretty clearly not a song thats meant to be streamed, its not purely music, its also a video because tommy is also first and foremost an editor who went to film college. its also not a "comedy" song like he's made some before, because those were all intentionally created to land as many jokes and make a big buzz— which doesnt mean they were bad! im philza is a contemporary lyrical masterpiece. but they had a specific purpose and it was to make people laugh and i think this video was completely like. opposite of what peoples expectations are of tommy. the "wow hes not a child anymore hes being mature🤓" reactions are the most obvious aspect of this (which, like, its been a while, get with the program).

i think the point of this was to make something that genuinely meant something but that was also like. as unpalatable to the algorithm and to the TommyInnit Viewer as possible. even now that he's gone into making quieter, more reflective videos, we've never had the flashing texts and the projector images and just all of that. hes always talking about how he hates the way the "youtube formula" has dictated the course of content and stolen all creativity for youtubers. its not meant to be a YouTube Video tm. its just meant to mean something to someone, and obviously process some sort of personal emotions, and i just think thats. yeah. yeah

i mean he even says so outright. "this needless, self indulgent spiral of self gratification" is pretty damn explicit. its not meant to be funny content its really a cry for help or for just. anything at all really

it was also a lot about perception, yknow the "entertainer" dilemma, "its all attention porn"... theres a layer of this point thats universal, everyone struggles with how they're perceived and i think any "artist" or "entertainer" figure can see themselves in it, but there's also a layer thats completely impermeable to most of us because it touches upon the sheer absurdity of a "youtuber". especially one of tommy's popularity. especially one who blew up so so fast so young. i honestly think its IMPOSSIBLE to process that. its about the ethics of having millions of people's time so readily available to you if you just press the right buttons to make the algorithm happy and then you've got them. im like 75% sure i remember him saying this on stream once, something like "your time is valuable" and if a fan didnt value him as an entertainer they should drop him.

and even here^ thats the saddest "lmao" ive seen in my life SORRY LOL but its really just. yeah im not gonna repeat myself it speaks for itself. perception and internet expectations and all that

one of the other images that stuck out to me was also this:

"yeah i know its too much like bo burnham but it wont be in a year though. in a year it will be like tom simons. just let me figure out what that means, ok?"

a lot of the video is about. influences and inspirations. the bo burnham references are so obvious he's poking at them, but i think he's raising a good point about the creativity that he's constantly praising. its never something that springs up on its own, its all about looking at others work and making it your own and feeding yourself with all those experiences and slowly, surely building your own way of doing things (tommyinnit "minecraft talent show" and "a tribute to dream smp" serial quackity + schlatt impersonator would know all about that) ->

and its daunting! its fucking scary to move away from that! which is also the main vibe i got from the video which, outside of his own issues with how he's perceived online, was the sort of existential dread that comes with actually creating. its one thing to preach you need to be passionate and create, its another to sit down and create something thats BY you. its a part of growing up! and we're literally seeing him do it live (well the bits that he chooses to show obviously)! thats also part of why i think tommy's so relatable to so many people is that he's so like. honest and real about what it's like to grow up, simple as that, and growing into yourself.

"this was everything to me" and using the picture of his younger self... man. theres obviously so much sadness underlying the whole thing but i think the nostalgia and melancholy in mourning being someone who was only inspired/excited by your interests and role models is universal. and obviously for tommy a lot of those influences turned out. well i think it was pretty damn clear who/what he was referring to here. ->

i don't think i need to go too in detail about that, especially cause a lot of the video was clearly a way to process his own personal emotions. especially with those next few images. i just hope he's okay and that god doubles his pain and gives it to mr beast to quote my friend bronzetomatoes. man.

of course he had to end with a funny clip about a hot anime girl and i think that kinda. sums it all up in a way. if that makes sense. at the end of the day its about the fact that he has to use humour to make the thing work when its out in the open, even when he tries not to and to be actually honest, but theres also the fact that hes literally a comedian and creating something "honest" IS through humor. its kindof a double edged sword

right well that was my jumbled mess of psychoanalysing tommyinnit i hope he is alright and all that because well that was. something

#tommyinnit #dsmp #mcyt #cc!tommy #alex.rambles.txt

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bi-disaster-kit-herondale · 8 months ago

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honestly love being in the marauders fandom, there are so many talented creators, especially fic writers. like i read popular fics from another fandom, and it just does not hit as hard as the masterpieces yall create over here. other ppl are getting emotional over stuff, and i don’t even bat an eye bc of the absolute tragedies the marauders have put me thru.

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rogersideup · 2 years ago

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Honored to be on such a broad lineup. Thank you 😭🥰🤍

Need More Fanfics ?

Stranger Things

Lesbian Coming Out (Steve Harrington x sister!reader) by @alyswritings

Doodles And Dates (Eddie Munson x reader) by @loveronlineee

Girls Like Girls (Chrissy Cunningham x reader) by @hellfirebabes

Things We Won't Do (Robin Buckley x reader) by @ktelova

Marvel

Creepy man (TASM!Peter Parker x reader) by @mareagirls ⚠️TW : stalking, following

Kiss Me Like You Wanna Be Loved (Kate Bishop x reader) by @lightupthemoon

Lazy Days With You (Carol Danvers x reader) by @ghostofskywalker

Three Little Adventurers (Marc Spector x sister!reader) by @writers-blogck

Late Night Talking (Steve Rogers x reader) [serie masterlist] by @rogersideup

Supernatural

If I Could Be Just A Dad (Dean Winchester x daughter!reader) by @winchesters-favorite-girl

It's Only Temporary (Crowley x platonic!reader) by @book-place

Bridgerton

Read It All About It (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @redheadspark

Brother Knows Best (Anthony Bridgerton x sister!reader) by @anthonysharmaa

Criminal Minds

Watching The Sunset (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @babymango-writes

With You, I Dare (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @temilyrights

Can I Stay With You ? (Spencer Reid x daughter!reader) by @letarasstuff

Unsteady (Derek Morgan x reader) by @ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused

Outer Banks

School Fight (JJ Maybank x daughter!reader) by @alyswritings

#masterpieces by other creators #Steve Rogers fluff

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mirai-e-jump · 2 months ago

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Uchusen Vol.186 (Autumn 2024) Kamen Rider Gavv | Detail of Heroes ft. Main Cast Interviews (other pages and translations below)

Publication: October 1, 2024 (between episode 5-6)

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

"Which shows from the Kamen Rider series have you seen?"

Chinen: From my generation, I watched "Kamen Rider W," "OOO," "Fourze," and "Wizard." I've been watching "Kamen Rider Zero-One," a masterpiece by Director Sugihara, who also directed the pilot of Gavv, and recently I watched "Kamen Rider Den-O" for the sake of studying.

"Who would your all time favorite Rider be?"

Chinen: Including OOO, I like alot of them, but lately I've been particularly fond of Den-O. It was really amazing to see each of the Imagin's personalities being performed by Satoh Takeru-san, the lead actor. The theme song is good too. I listen to the OP every episode without skipping it.

"Please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Chinen: We were put into pairs, one would play a role reminiscent of the food lover Shouma, and the other played a cool role similar to Hanto. During the first audition, I made a mistake. When I was supposed to do a performance where I entered the room from outside, I mistook the door for an outward opening one instead of an inward one, so I kept trying to pull it when I should've been pushing, and it ended up making alot of noise. I also heard the Producers laughing because I was having trouble getting in, but when I finally did, I continued the performance as if nothing had happened. Thinking about it now……I guess maybe that feeling of disconnect was also linked to Shouma's.

"We're sure you must've been quite flustered at that time"

Chinen: I was really flustered because of that (laughs). I was panicking quite abit because it wasn't an act, I really made a mistake. Still, I thought, "I've come this far, so let's do this!," so it might've been a good thing that I was able to accept it and give an earnest performance.

"How were you informed that you had been chosen?

Chinen: One day, my manager called me and said, "I need you to come to the office after work." I went to the office thinking, "Maybe they're upset at me for failing something?," but they said, "We have a report. We're disappointed to tell you that the final audition for Kamen Rider is no longer available." I was frustrated because I thought I had been rejected, but I still said, "I understand, I'll do my best next time." At that exact moment, the staff came through the door and shot off party poppers. That's when I asked my manager, "This isn't a dream, is it?" I pinched myself just to be sure (laughs). Even though it hurt, I couldn't believe it, and when I finally became aware of it, I felt like, "I'm the happiest guy in the world right now!"

"How did you inform your family?"

Chinen: I immediately called my mother about it. She said, "Hide, will you be okay with having the lead role?" Ever since I was little, I always said I wanted to one day play the main character in Kamen Rider. Both my mother and father supported this dream and saw me off to Tokyo. However, I really didn't think it would come true, and I think I was more worried about whether I'd be able to play the main character in such a big title before I was happy.

"Please tell us your impressions when you learned that Gavv was a Kamen Rider with a sweets motif."

Chinen: I received the proposal at the same time I was chosen to play the lead role, so that was the first time I learned about it. My first thoughts were, "A sweets Kamen Rider?" and "What will the gummies be like?" I didn't immediately understand the concept. It was the same kind of impact I felt when I first saw the orange and armor motif of "Kamen Rider Gaim." Still, when I read the proposal, it was very original and interesting. I could really feel the passion of the creators in wanting to create such a hero needed in the era we live in. I thought, "I want to be that kind of hero, and I also want to do my best!" I was impressed by the way the Rider's design incorporated gummies and potato chips, and I thought, "The person who thought this up is a genius."

"What's your absolute favorite form?"

Chinen: As of right now, it's Zakuzaku Chips. I'm a big fan of dual wielding swords, as I often use dual wielding characters in games. Also, I like the jagged potato chips on its eyes. From a distance, doesn't it look like Kamen Rider OOO? I like that about it too.

"Due to the complicated background of the character, we feel that Shouma, who you're playing, requires difficult performances. What kind of orders did the Director give you?"

Chinen: Director Sugihara said, "While he is a young man, I want him to retain a part of his innocence," and that, "He's friendly, but there seems to be a wall between his heart." He said, "He has a bright side and a dark side that he doesn't show others. I hope you can show us how well you can switch between those two personalities."

"Shouma's upbringing is one thing, but it's also cruel that the enemies he's fighting against are his family."

Chinen: Yeah, I personally think it's so cruel, that I pity Shouma. It's a harsh story for a show that's meant for small children to watch. I personally feel like it's mentally draining to play the role of blood related brothers fighting against each other as enemies. What's more, there's no escape from that fate. However, while the story and Shouma's circumstances are hard, the eating of sweets and poppin scenes help soften the situation. The gap between those scenes gives more depth to the hard story. I also try to be conscious of this when I act differently.

"It seems to strike a good balance between the poppin imagery and the hard content."

Chinen: Some fans predicted, "Is it going to be a show like Gaim?," when they saw the official announcement before the show aired. Kamen Rider productions that start out appealing to the "pop" part tend to have harsher developments (laughs). I myself don't want it to be too serious, so through trial and error, I'm still trying to figure out how to make the "pop" in Gavv stand out.

"The role sounds like a pretty high hurdle to clear."

Chinen: Still, I think it was the same for my seniors who performed in previous Riders. I believe that it's Kamen Riders who overcome their troubles, conflicts, and ordeals.

"How was filming for the transformation pose?"

Chinen: The pose was decided on three or four days before we started filming. We agreed on it through discussions among myself, Action Director Fujita-san, and Director Sugihara. In the first episode, there was no proper pose, as the transformation was done during a pinch, so the pose wasn't done until episode 2, but the transformation scene in the first episode was also very cool. Shouma's body slowly changes, and at the end, we get a closeup of his face and Gavv's mask, but he doesn't change all at once, leaving the eyes unchanged. It was very cool, and I was trembling by the way they showed the expression in my eyes until the very end! This is a special version that's only found in the first episode, so I hope you'll watch it again.

"We think that there'll also be action scenes before the transformation, but what about you?"

Chinen: The action is alot of fun……that being said though, I struggle with it quite abit. Action isn't just about being good at punching and kicking. I have to make the action visually appealing. Despite all that, I of course have to put my feelings into it. Fujita-san was by my side the whole time, and Gavv's Suit Actor Nawata Yuya-san was also always near the cameras, and he was very helpful and gave me advice like, "You did it this way before, but why don't you try it this way?" Also, I practice kyokushin karate, so that might be why I was praised for my kicks. So, when it came to direction, we also had an increase in kicking scenes. Over the next year, I'd like to improve my action skills more.

"How was post recording?"

Chinen: It was my first time, so it was much more difficult than filming. Director Sugihara spent alot of time with me for episodes 1 and 2 in particular, since they're the ones the viewers would see for the first time. After that, Director Sugihara gave me some advice. Shouts like "Hah!" and "Tah!" tend to become monotonous as it goes on, so he said, "I want to see some variation." He recommended the game "Street Fighter" as a good reference. I wrote down the shouts I thought were good in a memo and did them my own way. Naturally, I also referred to the shouts of my senior Riders.

"What's been your most passionate scene so far?"

Chinen: It would have to be the transformation scene in the first episode. Until then, the wind had been blowing so strongly, that it was like a cloud of dust, but it stopped right as it came time to do my performance. Thanks to this, we were able to shoot the cut where the wind makes Shouma's hair rise up and reveals his eyes. I also talked with Director Sugihara about it, saying, "It's a scene where the wind was on our side."

"How's the teamwork with your costars, Hino Yusuke-san and Miyabe Nozomi-san?"

Chinen: Both of them are usually friendly, but when they get in front of the cameras, they quickly switch into their roles. They're the type of people who can clearly switch on and off. Not just for Shouma, they're also my own reassuring friends.

"We were told that among the three of you, Chinen-san's plays the role of the funny guy, while Hino-san's the straight man."

Chinen: Sometimes I'll derail the conversation or make bombshell statements (laughs). Each time, Hino-san puts us back on the right track. Miyabe-san watches from a slightly removed position, but will sometimes react.

"By the way, Chinen-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Chinen: It's gummies, naturally! However, since I'm from Okinawa, I'd also like to promote "chinsukou" and "sata andagi" (laughs).

"We'd also love to see those two appear as Gochizou."

Chinen: Will they appear?! It seems like they'd be limited to Okinawa. Of course, I'd be happy if they come out, but for now I'll just hope for it within my heart.

"Finally, please give a message directed to all the fans of Gavv."

Chinen: The story of Kamen Rider Gavv began with a young man coming from another world to the human world. I hope that you'll pay attention to how Shouma meets unique friends in the human world and grows. Especially the bond he has with his mother, family bonds is one of the themes, so if possible, I'd like you to watch it with your loved ones. If you watch it, you'll definitely want to show your love and respect to your parents. I'd like to make this a show that you can support throughout the year. I hope you'll pay attention to and enjoy the activities of not only our cast, but also the Gochizou. I look forward to your support throughout the next year!

Hino Yusuke (Hanto)

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Hino: I have an older brother, so we had alot of transformation belts from "Kamen Rider Kuuga" and other early Heisei series at home. In terms of my generation though, it would've been "Kamen Rider Den-O." After that, I watched "Kamen Rider Kiva" and "Kamen Rider Decade."

"Who's your all time favorite Rider?"

Hino: I watched it with enthusiasm, so it'd have to be Den-O. When I was in elementary school, I commuted to school by train and was once stopped by a station attendant when I tried to walk through the ticket gate with the pass for the transformation belt (laughs).

"Did you play the role of Hanto during the audition?"

Hino: I also played the role of who I later found out was the main character, but in the end, I was frequently assigned the role of Hanto. Still, I thought his character had a cool position when they explained him to me, so I wasn't sure if he'd fit with my everyday self.

"How was it when you learned that you had been chosen?"

Hino: I was shocked because I wasn't expecting to be picked. The way my agency informed me also startled me abit. I was so happy and shocked, that I was in a state where I couldn't think straight for about five minutes.

"Did you contact your family right away?"

Hino: I was told it was okay to contact my parents as soon as I could. My mother cried and was delighted. Hearing my mother's tearful voice on the other end of the phone caused me to cry as well. My father never seemed very interested in my work, but when I told him that I had passed the audition, he exclaimed "seriously?!" in the loudest voice I had ever heard (laughs). It made me really happy when I heard that. My father's always worrying about me. I started this work when I was in high school, but was told, "You're a student, so your priority is your studies and to then go to college." However, my work became so busy, that it became difficult for me to attend college, and my parents were constantly worried about me. That's why I think I was finally able to reassure them by passing this audition, and it's a new starting point for me as well. In this day and age, TV dramas that run for a year are rare, so I'm grateful for the opportunity to participate in one, and I'll do my best this year without forgetting to keep my mind fresh.

"What was your first impression when you read the script?"

Hino: When I first heard about the motif, I thought, "What would a sweets Rider be like?" I think everyone's first guess would be a poppin, cute hero. So, while yes, the designs give off a cool, cute and modern feel, the story is very dramatic. The lives of Shouma and Hanto, who I play, will gradually overlap, and many other appealing characters appear, which always makes me wonder what will happen next. I myself look forward to the next script whenever I receive one. How will Hanto become a Kamen Rider, and how will he relate to Shouma after becoming one? I hope that you'll look forward to that.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your performance?"

Hino: I was told, "It's good to be more flexible." There's the way he approaches people with his fake smile when he's a freelance writer, and his "I'll crush you" anger when he confronts a Granute. It didn't matter what others would think, he told me, "I'd rather you vary his strengths and weaknesses so that he looks like a different person." At first, I thought Hanto was a cool character. It certainly looks that way when compared to Shouma and Sachika, but there are surprisingly few scenes resembling that in the show, it's more like he's clumsy around people. The Director raised the mood of my first appearance scene, up to the point where it felt like a silly older brother had appeared. That part changed the impression I had when I first received the script considerably.

"We have the impression that freelance writers are prone to being disliked, as they're always snooping around and are persistent in pestering the main character."

Hino: While I can't speak for myself, Hanto himself is a character who's teased during the show, so he's the most lovable character. He acts with conviction, and I think that's what makes him so cool, but he sometimes ends up getting nowhere, so he gets teased. And yet, when he's teased, he'll get angry and say, "Don't screw with me!," but he doesn't deny it (laughs). The reason Hanto's slowly becoming more like that may be due to the fact that my own character is starting to come out. In this sense, I feel that the synchronization with the role has risen. This way, Hanto's character has a wide range, so I'm able to play him rather freely.

"After this, Hanto reaches a major turning point when he becomes a Kamen Rider, so did you switch up your performance there?"

Hino: For Hanto, it's not so much a situation where his fate has taken a turn for the worse, it's more like his connection from the past has further unfolded. That's why rather than switching between before and after he becomes a Kamen Rider, I tried to separate his role as a freelance writer from his desire for revenge against the Granutes. To tell you the truth, after I learned about Hanto's early life, I tried to avoid "seeing" his family as much as possible in order to understand his loneliness alittle better. That's why when he confronts the Granutes, I think his eyes are pretty much burning with anger. It is of big help for him that he's surrounded by cheerful characters like the Gochizou and Sachika.

"How was the first transformation scene?"

Hino: Before his first transformation, another major event happens to Hanto which leads to him becoming a Kamen Rider. With the power he's acquired for the first time, Hanto's first transformation is a scene where he shows the anger and hatred he's been holding onto for such a long time towards the Granute. Trying to convey those emotions through my performance was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I think that Valen's transformation itself was also unrefined, unlike the image of a perfect hero with overwhelming strength. Still, he's unrefined but works as hard as he can, so I'd be happy if everyone who watches the show can feel that there's a cool feel to him. In a scene where "tears" are an important point in the direction, I was so emotional, that tears genuinely ran down my face as well. I still remember this because it was a moment when my emotions and my performance matched up.

"As Hanto, did you feel like he reached the climax from the earliest stage?"

Hino: No, no! This isn't the end of his story! (laughs). I'm sure there'll be many more climaxes from now on, and I'm personally looking forward to them.

"What did you think of Kamen Rider Valen's design?"

Hino: There was more chocolate than I expected (laughs). Despite that, it's cool. I also like that Valen is a "helmet type," while Gavv is a "mask type."

"By the way, Hino-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Hino: Chocolate of course!

"Do you have a favorite secondary Rider from previous Riders?"

Hino: It's Kamen Rider Zeronos from Den-O. I love his "I'm pretty strong!" catchphrase! In terms of actors, I like Yoshizawa Ryo-san, who played Kamen Rider Meteor in "Kamen Rider Fourze." When you're that cool at giving a performance, you can't be beat. Director Kamihoriuchi previously told me that when Yoshizawa-san was told to "do something like this," he instantly made it his own performance instead of following instructions. He also said, "His ability to adapt was exceptional." It made me want to be an actor like him. He's a respectable person.

"We'd like to see a catchphrase from Valen as well."

Hino: Yeah. He currently doesn't have any lines that he's always saying, but I'll try to bring out Hanto's human appeal while standing beside Shouma, the hero from another world.

"Do you want to film some action of yourself before transforming?"

Hino: Action is fun! I do voluntary training on a daily basis together with Valen's Suit Actor Kaji Kotaro-san, Gavv's Nawata Yuya-san, and everyone else on the Action Team. The day before an action scene is set to be filmed, they would assist me in practicing for it. With the exception of impossible scenes, I've been challenging myself to not use a stand in.

"How's the teamwork with your co stars, Chinen-san and Miyabe-san?"

Hino: We get along very well. They're both really adorable, but they're professional actors who are reliable on set. In a good way, we're rivals and friends. I hope I can build a better relationship with them from now on.

"Not long ago you said, "It might be his own fault that Hanto's become a character who's teased," but is Hino-san himself a character who's being teased?"

Hino: Basically, I play the role of responding to Chinen-kun's jokes (laughs). However, including Miyabe-san, when the three of us are together, I sometimes play the role of a fool, and will often be the one saying, "Hey, cut it out~." That's the way things usually go. Just so you're aware, I am the oldest (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to all fans of Gavv."

Hino: For me, Kamen Riders are the heroes I've dreamed of being since I was a child, so I'm very happy that I'm able to be involved in this historic series. Over the next year, I'll do my best to meet and exceed everyone's expectations with sincerity, and without forgetting my original intention. I look forward to your support!

Miyabe Nozomi (Sachika)

"First, please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Miyabe: I'll be honest, the audition was a disaster. The audition script contained several assignments, each being individually numbered. At that time, act 2 was a fainting performance and act 3 was a conversation between two people, and even though I thought, "I absolutely have to pass!," I was so incredibly nervous, that I ended up doing a fainting performance for act 3. The other actor spoke to me according to the script, and that's when I realized, "This is wrong!," but it was too late. The final audition didn't go well either. The Director told me, "Act like an aunt from Osaka," but I wasn't confident that I could pull it off, and that's when I became depressed and thought, "This is a lost cause." In spite of all that, I was surprised that I was chosen.

"How did you receive the report that you had been chosen?"

Miyabe: After the audition, my manager called me to come to Ginza. As I headed there and thought, "I wonder if they're upset about something?," they messaged me with, "Take a selfie with your phone." I didn't understand what they meant and was like, "Eh? Did I gain weight or something?" but then I got a message saying, "You passed the audition." It seems that the selfie was to document me going from freaked out to smiling. I had never been so emotionally moved as I was at that moment. This video captures a memorable moment in time, so I hope to be able to release it in some form someday (laughs).

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Miyabe: I have a younger brother who's eight years younger than me, so we watched "Kamen Rider Drive," "Ghost," and "Ex-Aid" together. After I passed the audition, I watched "Kamen Rider Gotchard" in order to study.

"We're sure your brother was happy to know that his sister was going to play a role in Kamen Rider."

Miyabe: I still haven't told my brother yet (at the time of this interview). I was given the okay to talk to them about it, so I did contact my parents right away. I plan on surprising my brother by not telling him until the official announcement.

"What were your impressions of Gavv from reading the script?"

Miyabe: Each and every character has a story to tell, so I thought it was a production that'll keep you interested even early on. That's why I can never wait for the next script. I'm sure all the viewers feel the same way.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your role?"

Miyabe: Along with Shouma's Chinen-kun, Director Sugihara gave us acting lessons even before filming began. Each time, I was told, "Cheerful, cheerful." It was required at the auditions, so I always try to have the cheerfulness of an Osakan aunt and the kindness that seems to embrace everyone. Sachika is a gyaru president, but I've personally lived a life with no connection to gyarus. I also wasn't the type to stand out in class. That's why after I was chosen for this role, I learned to be more like a gyaru by listening to songs with a cheerful tempo, reading gyaru magazines, and watching official Youtube channels and TikToks.

"What does Miyabe-san think a gyarus mind is?"

Miyabe: I wonder…….No matter how difficult a situation may be, you can always think, "Well, I'll figure it out!," and in a positive sense, I think it's important not to "overthink" things. A friend of mine often says, "Keep a gyaru in your heart,” and I thought it was a very good saying. Thanks to those words, I'm now able to have a gyaru named Amane Sachika reside in my heart.

"Playing the role of Amane Sachika is also a "transformation" for Miyabe-san."

Miyabe: You're right! There's quite a gap between myself and Sachika, so I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that it's a transformation for me. I've never played a role so different from my own self before, so it's fun (laughs). It's not just acting that I enjoy, but also doing alot of research for the role.

"Did you also make your hair blonde for the role of Sachika?"

Miyabe: I did. I've always had black hair, but I bleached it three times to make it blonde. At first, every time I looked in the mirror, I was like, "Who are you?" (laughs). Still, once I got used to looking at it, I started to see myself in photos as a different person from who I used to see when I had black hair. Sachika also wears heavy makeup, so you might not even notice me when I walk down the street during my private time. That's why I'm thinking of wearing colored contacts and false eyelashes in my private time so people will notice me (laughs).

"Sachika isn't a fighter, but are there any plans for action scenes?"

Miyabe: There are no particular scenes set for me, but I was once allowed to participate in an action session. I didn't do very well at the time, but I'd be happy if they could prepare some action scenes for Sachika too! Since I went through great lengths to appear in Kamen Rider, I'd like to try my hand at action.

"Would you like to transform into a Kamen Rider like Shouma and Hanto?"

Miyabe: I'd like to do that too! Recent series always have female Kamen Riders, and my dream is to be one of them. However, Sachika's a woman with a strong heart, so even if she can't transform, I'd like to use the strength of her feelings as her "weapon."

"Miyabe-san, which Rider do you like more, Gavv or Valen?"

Miyabe: That's a tough question! (laughs). Gavv's a Rider from another world, so he's incredibly strong, but when he's alone he usually ends up in a pinch. And since Valen's the one who helps him, it's like they're one and the same. So, I guess I'd go with both.

"Have you ever directly seen the Kamen Riders on set?"

Miyabe: They're so cool! Being able to see those forms up close and personal will definitely motivate me for the next year. Before I entered this set, I thought the camera work was what made the action so powerful. Naturally, there are scenes like that, but the action itself is very powerful. When I watched episodes 1 and 2, I was surprised to see that the scenes that were already powerful without CG were even more powerful with CG.

"Were there any other spectacles unique to tokusatsu heroes?"

Miyabe: The Gochizou are made by using both props and CG, so during filming of the CG scenes, Chinen-kun talks to Gochizou that aren't there. I thought that kind of performance was difficult. Still, Sachika doesn't know that the Gochizou exists. She also doesn't know about the Granutes, or that Shouma and Hanto are Kamen Riders. They're so close, yet she only knows about Kamen Riders through gossip. I can only imagine what would happen to Sachika if she knew of the Granute's existence. She might want to try to get along with them instead of fighting. Of course, she'd become angry if someone she cared about got hurt by them.

"What's been the most impressive scene up to episode 5?"

Miyabe: Sachika runs a general store, so she and Shouma do alot of jobs together. I enjoyed the scene where they were handing out flyers to advertise the ramen shop. I'm looking forward to seeing what other jobs they do in the future. I also like the scene in episode 3, where Hanto comes to Hapipare and Sachika pokes him with a toy. I thought it was a good representation of their relationship. It's not that Sachika can't read the room, as when she has to do something, she'll do it, but the mood of the place comes first (laughs).

"Hino-san himself said that Hanto's a character that everyone teases."

Miyabe: Hino-kun himself often makes the set feel more relaxed when he's teased. I also mess around with him alot (laughs). It's kind of easy to tease him, almost like there's a sense of security and that it's okay to tease him. He's the oldest out of the three of us (laughs). Chinen-kun lightens up the mood with his interesting remarks, like when he says, "That's one way of thinking about it!" Once Hino-kun gets into it, it becomes really noisy. We screw around when it's time to screw around, but we're very serious when we have to face our roles. They'll suggest things like, "Let's try this here," or "Let's practice this alittle." I'm glad that the three of us will be together on this set for a year.

"Miyabe-san, what kind of sweets do you like?"

Miyabe: I like plum types of sweets, like crunchy plums and dried plums. On days when we have filming, I'll stop by a convenience store and buy one of those before heading to the set. However, the makeup artist pointed out to me that I should be careful not to eat too much, otherwise my face might puff up (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to the fans of Gavv."

Miyabe: Kamen Rider Gavv is poppin and cute, and I think it's a show that'll be easy for all kinds of people to relate to. I really hope that people of all ages will watch it. Since I'm also "armed" with a gyarus mindset, I'll do my best to cheer up tons of people. I look forward to your support over the next year!

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yan-lorkai · 2 months ago

Note

I’m not sure if I can request this and I don’t know much about Halloween but I can totally imagine the first year gang starting a little pumpkin farm at Ramshackle. They’d carve pumpkins together and maybe sell some of them to earn a little pocket money

If it’s too much, no worries. just ignore this. Have a great day

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This is such a lovely idea tbh, now i kinda of want to do something like this with my friends aaaa. This was supposed to be posted at 6am as always and i forget to queue it lol. Anyway, enjoy it darling!

The Ramshackle Dorm had never been busier nor more vibrant than now. It all started with a simple idea from Ace: “Hey, why don’t we grow some pumpkins here?” he had said a sunny afternoon, eyes glinting with mischief as gestured to the dead garden of his dorm.

“We can carve them for Halloween, and maybe even sell a few. Easy money, right?” He turned to Epel, who, just as mischievously, nodded.

With a few enthusiastic nods from Jack and Deuce, the plan was set in motion. Soon, even Sebek, who had initially scoffed at the idea as "a frivolous waste of time," found himself secretly invested when Malleus found out and praised him for having a hobby with a bunch of friends.

Days turned into weeks, and the once dead, wild yard of the Ramshackle Dorm was transformed. The first-year gang tilled the soil, planted seeds, and tended to their patch diligently. They took turns watering the sprouts, pulling out weeds, and shooing away curious crows. It was hard work, but there was a certain joy in it.

Jack took special pride in watching the tiny green shoots grow into fat, round pumpkins, while Epel appreciated the physical labor - he said that in that way he could gain muscles. Ace and Deuce made it a game, challenging each other to see who could grow the biggest pumpkin, which led to much bickering and laughter.

The yard was filled with the warm, earthy scent of pumpkins, and the air was filled with laughter. Each carved pumpkin was a reflection of its creator, scattered around the steps and windows of Ramshackle, glowing with flickering candles as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As the pumpkins ripened, the dorm's front yard slowly turned into a sea of orange, each pumpkin unique in size and shape. On one particularly crisp afternoon, as Halloween approached, they gathered around to start carving. Carving tools in hand, they sat in a circle, some humming, others chatting about what designs they’d make.

Ace boasted that he would create the scariest face, while Deuce shyly admitted he wanted to make a pumpkin with a cute smile so he could take a photo and sent it to his mother. Epel’s was, of course, carved with incredible detai l— a miniature masterpiece of intricate patterns, as he was used to carve apples. Jack’s was simple and classic, just like him. And Sebek, determined to outshine the rest, carved an elaborate dragon that he claimed was a tribute to his master, Malleus.

“Not bad, huh?” Ace said, admiring their work. “I mean, I could probably sell mine for way more than any of yours, but still.” He smirked, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

“We’ll see about that,” You shot back, wiping your hands on your overalls. “Who wouldn’t want to buy one of mine?”

Throughout the day, the first-years ran the stand, chatting with students and selling their carved pumpkins. Sebek was surprisingly the best salesperson, his loud voice catching everyone’s attention and his pride making each pumpkin sound like a royal treasure. Epel made sure every customer left with a smile, slipping them a little extra vine or a perfect pumpkin seed as a token. Even Grim, though not directly involved in the growing process, found himself helping out, lured by the promise of sharing in the profits.

With their pumpkins carved, the group turned to the next phase of their plan. They set up a small stand by the gate, decorating it with the leftover vines and smaller pumpkins. A hand-painted sign read, "Pumpkins for Sale! Buy 1, Get 1 Free (if you can guess who carved it)!" It was Ace’s idea, of course, to add a little game to attract more customers. They were soon joined by curious students from other dorms, many who had heard about the little farm project and wanted to see the fruits (or rather, gourds) of their labor.

You still were surprised that their idea really attracted people. Even Sam was there, examining the pumpkins.

By the end of the evening, the pumpkin patch looked a bit emptier, but your pockets were a little heavier. All of you were tired, but it was the good kind of tired, where your cheeks hurt from smiling and your muscles ache in a satisfying way. As you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle, trapped between Deuce and Ace, watching the last of the daylight fade, there was a warm sense of accomplishment between them.

“This was a good idea,” Jack said, breaking the comfortable silence. “We should do it again next year.”

“Yeah,” Epel said, stretching out his arms. “Maybe we’ll even beat the big guys at their own game. Imagine if this little patch becomes the talk of Halloween.”

"What if other dorms try to do something like this, though?" You asked them.

You had so much fun those past few months, working at their side after clubs ended and the homework was made. You laughed, you chased them when they teamed up to tease you. Overall, it was the most fun you had since coming to this world.

Ace, who was using your left shoulder as a pillow, leaned up so he could see your eyes. "If this happens..." he looked at the other boys before catching your eyes again. "Then we'll crush them, no doubt."

"Figuratively speaking, right?"

Deuce smiled spread through his face as Epel laughed and Sebek and Jack tried to hide their face from you.

"Yeah... Figuratively speaking, of course, Prefect."

The others nodded, their eyes bright with ideas about what to do if the other students tried to do something like that.

As the night settled in, the carved pumpkins flickered warmly, casting playful shadows across the yard. And you felt as if, for just a moment, like you were back home with your small, happy family — gathered around a shared project, their laughter and camaraderie filling the air with something brighter than any candle could provide.

If you were here the next year, then you wanted to do the same thing with them again. And if you aren't... You wanted them to continue that little tradition.

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vegan-peppermint · 1 month ago

Text

Your Boyfriend's Bed

Pairing: Hoodie x Masky'sGF!Reader

Fandom: Marble Hornets

Genre: Smut MDNI

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cheating, creampie, rough sx, P in V

Summary: Your boyfriend is a B, but his best friend's there to take your side.

Author's Note: After a three-year hiatus, I finally found the inspiration to write again—thanks to this incredible fanfiction. It sparked something in me. I can’t recommend it enough, so please show the creator some love. Their work is the reason I’m writing again after all this time. This fic is inspired by their masterpiece, so I highly encourage you to check it out first!

________________________________

More often than not, you were a collateral victim in your boyfriend and his friend’s fights. Tim and Brian were too close for your liking, they had a great co-dependency going on way before you came in the picture. If Brain was in a bad mood, so was Tim. If you got in a fight with Tim, Brian was giving you the silent treatment as well as taking sides without hesitation.

It was more than you bargained for, not realising getting Tim as a boyfriend meant taking responsibility for his grown-ass best friend as well. But you managed. With each month that passed in your relationship it was getting easier for you, to the point it was almost natural to consider them both in every action you took.

Weirdly enough, you so much preferred for them to be mad at you instead of at each other. Whenever their balance wavered they started acting batshit crazy. Tim confessed some details about their ‘alternative’ life after- what, a year in you relationship?

You didn’t fully grasp what he meant by their “alter egos” or their nighttime escapades, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to. You had your suspicions, of course. You weren’t blind. But as long as they didn’t outright spell it out for you, you could continue living in blissful ignorance. It was easier that way, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it.

But today—today was different. Today, things had escalated to an entirely new level.

Tim was screaming at Brian, who was cloaked in that damned creepy hood that made him look so unsettling. Tim's anger seemed to grow by the second, and when “Hoodie” (as you suppose you should call him now) refused to react, it only fueled Tim’s rage.

You tried to calm him down, talk to him or something- anything.

A strained, guttural laugh escaped Tim, trembling with anger. He started explining to you how you do not even begin to understand what has happened, how you should just shut up and not get involved- his voice full with disdain, every sentence designed to belittle and assert his supposed superiority.

Now you are not the one to get angry easily, but this time- this time something in you snapped. You were done being talked down to, done being made feel small or pathetic for just wanting some peace.

“No wonder he would not bother to have your back when you act like such a prick.”

“Oh, just shut up you bit-,” his words faltered as he caught himself mid-sentence, swallowing the insult faster than a politician trying to cover his tracks.

You cannot recreate what was spoken after that word for word, just that all hell broke loose. It was no longer a fight between Tim and Brian- no, it wasn’t just them anymore. It was you and Hoodie against Tim. You were screaming and throwing your every angry complaint you had been holding in for far too long. And Hoodie- Hoodie of all people- was backing your every word, every statement. However, Hoodie’s remark is what really sealed and shipped Tim’s whole spirit.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so frustrated with her boyfriend in my life, Masky. Can only imagine you’re lacking in some aspects.”

The words hit harder than anything you had said. They were cold, calculated, and aimed straight at the core of Tim’s pride. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a moment, Tim stood there, trembling with the weight of the accusation. His face twisted in disbelief, but the damage had already been done.

What followed between the two of them was pure madness. Shouting, shoving, items flying off shelves—everything seemed to spin out of control. Pushing, pulling, voices rising higher and higher, until the tension reached a breaking point. Tim’s eyes flickered with something darker, something unstable, before he turned to grab his mask and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls.

Well, this has happened this morning. You realise you could’ve done things differently, not taking sides or waiting for their fight to end before starting your own. That was your mistake. But leaving you hurt and angry with only Hoodie to comfort you was his.

________________________________

You were on all fours on your boyfriends bed, face buried in his pillows. Hoodie’s gloved hand pushed down on your back arching it more- your ass rising higher.

Your clothes were littering the floor from the doorway to the edge of the bed, the cold air tickling your bare skin. Your eyes landed on the wardrobe’s mirror showing your helpless reflection with Hoodie’s tall frame behind you. He was completely dressed from his boots to the black mask that covered his face- he was glacial.

His left hand- formerly on your back- grabbed your hip harshly. He dragged the other painfully slow across your side- from ass, to waist and finally around your breast. You whimpered at the harsh feeling of his gloves palming your tits.

“So sensitive…” he sighed. The nub was hardening against his touch making it easier for him to pinch or gently twist your nipple.

You inhaled sharply trying to steady yourself but being met with Tim’s smell wasn’t helping. “H-Hodie...” you whined.

His hands left your body and you heard his pants zipper opening. You tried to push yourself on your forearms, an instinct to turn around and see what you were dealing with, but before you could make a move a firm grip grabbed at the back of your neck. The sharp tug sent shivers down your spine as Hoodie yanked your head back. With a swift flick of his wrist, he let go of your nape only to have his fingers dart into your hair. His grip was certain and precise. “You’re way to eager to get on another man’s cock.” Your face was shoved once again back into the mattress.

He was watching you excitedly as he brushed his tip across your folds- a groan escaping his lips when he felt how wet you already were. There was something primal about knowing you belonged to someone else yet he got to claim you as his right now.

“Be quiet now,” he instructed sliding his cock inside you. You tried your best, you swore you did but he was so- big. Your eyes rolled upwards and your fingers gripped tightly at the sheets as you tried your best not to scream. His cock pressed deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you in ways you did not even imagine possible. “You moan like a whore,” he growled with a final push. You felt your face blushing in shame- he talked to you in ways you would've never allowed your boyfriend, but on his lips those words felt so natural; almost like praises.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, the sound gentle but insistent. You were already panting and crying just by the size of him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him being balls deep inside your aching cunt but your whines wouldn’t stop. He leaned over you, the rough material of his clothes scratching your soft skin. His hand reached to the side of your face, you thought he wanted to wipe away the tears that were sliding down your cheeks. He chuckled, his hand covering your mouth instead. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, sweetheart.”

________________________________

“Fuck, fuck- fuck! Feels so- Agh!~”

You were screaming so fucking loudly. Your head was bumping to the ruthless rhythm of Hoodie’s thrusts. His fingers left red marks all over your ass, your hips- he was tugging at your body merciless, squeezing and scratching every inch of skin he could find.

With trembling hands you tried your best to hold onto the bed frame as Hoodie was rutting into you from behind. His balls were hitting your swollen clit so hard- again and again and- “Am so close- so close, so close!” Jaw was hanging open, you were gasping for air.

“Fucking whore,” Hoodie sighed grabbing your neck with one hand, the other searching for your open mouth. “Bet he never fucked you this good, eh?” He gave a sinister chuckle as he shoved his fingers down your throat. You followed his cruel pull falling back on his torso. He was squeezing at the sides of you neck reminding you how little and vulnerable you are right now, “You only breath right now- scream and cry- you only feel this good because I allow you to.”

You whine taking him even deeper, his cock slaming your walls faster. His fingers explored your mouth pressing down your tongue, his grip thightend.

“I could snap your neck right now, you know?”

You cry out loud in desperation, surrenedring control to him completely. Your eyes shut in anticipation, every muscle in you tightens-

“Say who you really belong to, who fucks you like a bitch in heat,” he snarls. “Say my name.”

And you do. Over and over again you do as your gummy walls squeeze around his length unbearably thight, waves of pleasure wash all over you. Hoodie’s hands allow you to gasp for air just for a second as they move under your arms grabbing you by the shoulders. His sudden body weight pushed you on your belly, fucking you deeper into the matress. His thrusts grow sloppy and desparate with no regard towards you- he was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“I’ll pump you so full of cum, MY cum-” Muffled sounds rose from deep in his chest, you were able to hear his clenched teeth through the sharp breaths he took. “Breed you so good you’ll be ruined- Fuck-” he whimpered. “Ruined for Tim,” his thrusts are brutal and harsh and- so goddamn overwhelming.

His cum shots in hot strings, his member twitching inside your ruined cunt. His hands pull you closer and hips push further trying to get as deep as possible- deeper than Tim at least.

You felt bad for comparing but the way he feels on top of you, in you- he fucked you in ways your boyfriend never could. When you tried to shift he grabbed a fistful of your hair forcing your head back. With lazy motions he started fucking his cum deeper.

“I didn’t tell you you could fucking move yet.”

This is my first fic since, what- 2021? Wow. Crazy.

I'll keep on writing my usual content as well, but creepypastas and gore-y stuff has always been something I wanted to write but never felt confident enough before. Anyways, feel free to request or send me any message, I came back from my hiatus! Never thought I'd say that lol.

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marie-swriting · 1 year ago

Text

Je sais qu'en temps normal, je reblogue les histoires d'autres auteurs le jeudi, mais je fais une exception aujourd'hui car ma talentueuse meilleure amie vient tout juste de poster son premier one shot sur Tumblr (les 12.5k de mots en valent la peine, je vous le promets) ! Sans elle, je n'écrirais pas actuellement donc je suis reconnaissante de l'avoir dans ma vie et également pour ses histoires.

Si vous aimez Spence Reid et que vous rechercher des one shots romantiques avec lui, allez checker son compte (@thefictionalnerdy), elle sait parfaitement bien écrire Spencer et c'est une autrice hors pair. Elle écrit également pour d'autres personnages donc je suis sûre qu'elle écrit pour, au moins, un de vos personnages préférés.

Kae, je suis si fière de toi et je t'aime ❤️

𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 [𝐅𝐑]

LIEN VERS LA VERSION ANGLAISE

Duo : Spencer Reid x Reader.

Langue : Français.

Compteur : 12.5k mots.

Avertissement(s) : angst, hurt/comfort, fluff et tout ce qui est lié - de près ou de loin - à Esprits Criminels.

Résumé : Cinq fois où tu as frissonné au contact de la peau de Spencer et une fois où tu en as été l'initiatrice. (prompt de Whumpster Dumpster)

Chanson : Deep, de Julia Michaels.

N/A : J'avoue que je me suis lâchée sur le nombre de mots, mais bon, ça en fait davantage à lire pour vous. C'est le tout premier one-shot que j'écris depuis des années, alors j'espère qu'il vous plaira. 🖤

BONUS : Si vous ne voulez pas le lire d'une seule traite, une version divisée en six chapitres distincts est disponible sur AO3.

PREMIÈRE FOIS

Cela ne faisait que trois jours que tu avais rejoint le DSC et tu étais déjà débordée de travail. Ta première enquête avait été résolue plus tôt dans la journée et voilà que, six heures plus tard, tu étais coincée à devoir rédiger un rapport d’enquête. C’était le premier que tu écrivais et tu découvrais que ça ne te plaisait absolument pas. Tu préférais l’adrénaline qui découlait du fait d’arrêter un suspect à l’ennui de devoir raconter les événements des journées précédentes. Toutefois, ce n’était pas comme si tu avais le choix, puisque Hotch attendait ton rapport pour le lendemain, à la première heure. Tu ne pouvais pas le décevoir, alors que tu faisais tout juste tes preuves. C’est pour cela que tu allais probablement devoir rester au bureau, une à deux heures de plus.

Les jambes croisées sur la chaise, tu grattais le papier avec ton stylo-plume. Un choix d’instrument qui t’avait valu quelques remarques de la part de tes nouveaux collèges. Tu avais simplement rétorqué que c’était une préférence personnelle, en plus de te permettre d’être la plus lisible possible aux yeux de celui qui devrait examiner ton rapport. Le hic, c’est que même si tu l’avais choisi pour t'accommoder, tu devais avouer qu’il ne te permettait pas d’avancer aussi rapidement que tu l’aurais souhaité.

Sous les coups de huit heures, alors qu’il ne te restait plus qu’une trentaine de minutes, tu levas la tête de ton dossier afin de faire une pause. Un bâillement s’échappa de tes lèvres et ce fut le signe que tu attendais pour aller te chercher une boisson. Tu espérais que cela te permettrait de rester concentrée juste le temps qu’il te faudrait pour finir ce que tu faisais. Tandis que tu te levais de ta chaise en t'étirant les jambes, tu décidas d’opter pour un thé. D’ailleurs, tu étais à peu près certaine que c’était le seul autre choix disponible autre que ce breuvage immonde qu’était le café. Tu t’apprêtais donc à te diriger vers la cuisine lorsqu’un mouvement dans ton champ de vision capta ton attention. C’est là que tu réalisas que tu n’étais pas seule, puisque Reid était toujours là. Il s’amusait à faire tourner sa chaise, tout en remplissant une feuille de journal au crayon à papier. Une pensée te traversa alors l’esprit et tu te mis à avancer dans sa direction, ne t’arrêtant qu’à quelques centimètres de son bureau.

“Reid, je vais aller me chercher un thé. Est-ce que tu veux que je te rapporte quelque chose ?” Tu lui proposas gentiment.

Quitte à te déplacer, tu préférais faire d’une pierre, deux coups, puis ça te permettait de rendre service à ton collègue – histoire de gagner quelques points de sympathie à ses yeux.

En entendant son nom de famille, le brun leva la tête de ses mots-croisés. Ses yeux croisèrent brièvement les tiens, tandis que tu détournais le regard afin de poser les tiens sur son bureau.

“Un café, s’il te plaît.” Il répondit dans un murmure, tout en te souriant avec timidité.

Sa voix était posée. Calme. Néanmoins, une pointe de fatigue pouvait être entendue dans ses intonations et tu commençais à te demander la raison pour laquelle il restait ici. Après tout, un simple coup d’œil à son bureau te permettait de savoir qu’il avait déjà fini de travailler. Tu étais perdue dans tes pensées et ce fut le fait qu’il se remit à parler qui te fit sortir de ta rêverie.

“Tiens, tu n’as qu’à remplir cette tasse.” Il avait attrapé un mug dans l’un des tiroirs de son bureau et te le tendait, attendant que tu t’en saisisses – ce que tu ne tardas pas à faire.

Tandis que tu posais ta main sous le mug afin de le saisir par le dessous et ainsi, d’éviter le moindre contact physique avec sa peau, Spencer retira ses doigts de l'anse avec délicatesse. Il n’avait aucune envie de faire tomber sa tasse préférée. L’action se passa au ralenti et tu retins ta respiration en attendant le moment où ses doigts ne se trouveraient plus à quelques centimètres des tiens. Il allait finir de les retirer, lorsqu’un de ses doigts frôla les tiens par inadvertance. Ce contact te fit l’effet d’un électrochoc et tu manquas de faire tomber la tasse. Heureusement, ta deuxième main vint à la rescousse de la première et tu pus éviter la catastrophe. Spencer lâcha un soupir de soulagement.

“Je… Je reviens.” Tu balbutias précipitamment, avant de tourner les talons et de rejoindre la cuisine en le laissant en plan.

Sous le stress, tu essayas tant bien que mal de ne pas faire tomber la tasse. Ce n’est qu’une fois que tu fus à quelques centimètres du comptoir que tu la déposas. En jetant un œil à tes mains, tu remarquas qu’elles tremblaient. Tu pris de lentes respirations afin de calmer le tremblement, puis tu t’attelas à la préparation de vos deux breuvages. Tu essayais de chasser ce qui venait de se passer dans un coin de ta tête, préférant retarder le moment où ton anxiété grimperait en flèche. Ce n’était clairement pas le moment, surtout qu’il ne te restait que quelques pages à rédiger.

Alors que tu préparais vos tasses, Spencer, lui, t’observait avec curiosité depuis son bureau. Bien qu’il se doutait de quelque chose, il devait avouer qu’il ne comprenait pas tout à fait ce qui venait de se passer. Il se promit alors d’enquêter afin d’en savoir davantage.

DEUXIÈME FOIS

Cela faisait quelques semaines que tu travaillais en tant que profiler au sein du FBI et tu avais commencé à nouer une amitié avec les membres de ton équipe. Penelope était devenue la personne vers laquelle tu te tournais pour savoir tous les potins qui concernaient les agents travaillant dans ce bâtiment. Rossi avait fini par t’inviter chez lui pour te faire découvrir ses fameuses pâtes à l’italienne et le reste d’entre eux – composé de JJ, Emily et Derek – t’avaient déjà emmené boire quelques verres afin d’en découvrir davantage sur ta personnalité. Quant à Hotch, il restait fidèle à lui-même en se mettant en retrait pour garder un œil sur toi. Chacun d’entre eux commençait – petit à petit - à s’adapter à ta présence et à te laisser pleinement prendre ta place dans l’équipe. Et puis, il y avait Reid. Comment aurais-tu pu l’oublier ? Après tout, il était celui avec lequel tu t’entendais le mieux. Celui qui essayait le plus de te mettre à l’aise. Celui qui comprenait à quel point ça pouvait être déroutant d’être la nouvelle et de ne pas avoir de repères. Celui qui, lorsqu’il avait appris que tu étais nouvelle au sein de la capitale, s’était donné pour mission de te faire découvrir la ville en devenant ton guidé attitré. Ainsi, plusieurs fois par semaine, le petit génie t’emmenait visiter un nouvel endroit de la ville. Le choix était fait de façon aléatoire. Un jour, c’était un monument historique. Un autre, c’était un endroit spécifique qu’il souhaitait te faire découvrir. Tu avais toujours le droit à une visite guidée agrémentée d’anecdotes personnellement choisies par ses soins et tu devais avouer que c’était quelque chose que tu appréciais.

Ce jour-là, il était neuf heures du matin et les artères étaient plutôt calmes dans cette partie de la ville. Spencer te faisait découvrir de nouvelles rues, tout en prenant soin de t’emmener à l’endroit prévu. Son choix s’était porté sur un café douillet du nom de Sidamo. Un établissement qu’il fréquentait depuis quelques mois et qu’il avait hâte d’enfin faire découvrir à quelqu’un d’autre. Il t’avait parlé de leur thé absolument fabuleux et c’était comme cela qu’il t’avait convaincu de t’y rendre.

Depuis que tu l’avais rejoint devant ton appartement, les discussions fusaient bon train. Vous passiez d’un sujet à l’autre sans jamais vous ennuyer. Jusqu’à présent, vous aviez parlé de l’impressionnisme et du romantisme, mais vous en étiez désormais à évoquer l’art baroque. Un mouvement que tu affectionnais tout particulièrement, puisque Vermeer et Rembrandt faisaient partie de tes peintres préférés. Et justement, Reid avait des tas d’anecdotes à te raconter pour ton plus grand plaisir.

“Tu savais que...” Il s’apprêtait à te déballer l’une de ses tirades dont lui seul avait le secret lorsqu’il fut interrompu par un bruit de moteur. Il n’eut pas le temps de continuer sa phrase qu’une voiture débarqua de nulle part, alors que tu t’apprêtais à traverser le passage piéton.

Brusquement et sans réfléchir, il te saisit par le bras pour te ramener vers lui, t’évitant de te faire écraser par l’automobiliste imprudent qui avait débarqué en trombe sur la chaussée. La force du mouvement te propulsa vers l’arrière et tu manquas de heurter le torse de ton ami de plein fouet. Tu ne réalisas pas tout de suite ce qui venait de se passer, mais le choc te fit écarquillait les yeux.

“[T/P], est-ce que ça va ?” Te demanda-t-il avec inquiétude.

Sous le choc, ton corps s’était figé et tu étais momentanément incapable de répondre à une quelconque sollicitation. D’un côté, tu avais failli te faire renverser par une voiture. De l’autre, ton corps était conscient du fait que celui de Spencer était vraiment – trop – proche du tien. Ce fut en baissant le regard que tu remarquas enfin que ses doigts étaient agrippés à ton bras et tu aurais préféré ne pas le savoir, parce qu’une boule se forma dans ton estomac. Tu avais besoin qu’il enlève sa main – de préférence, le plus vite possible.

“[T/P].” Le profiler n’eut pas le temps de finir sa phrase que tu lui coupais abruptement la parole.

“Ta main.” Ce fut les deux seuls mots que tu pus articuler, tandis que tu te concentrais pour ne pas succomber à la panique que ce simple toucher te procurait.

“Quoi ?” Ses sourcils étaient relevés. Il ne comprenait pas de quoi tu parlais.

“Enlève ta main. S’il te plaît...” À ce stade, tu en étais pratiquement à le supplier. À prier pour qu’il mette fin à ton supplice.

Baissant les yeux, c’est là qu’il remarqua que sa main était toujours enroulée autour de ton bras et il le relâcha immédiatement. Tu poussas un soupir de soulagement, tout en reculant de quelques centimètres. Tu avais du mal à supporter la proximité entre vos deux corps.

“Merde. Je suis désolé. Est-ce que je t’ai fait mal ?” S’enquérit-il avec inquiétude en te voyant reculer et examiner ton bras.

Il espérait de tout cœur que tu n’avais rien. Qu’il n’y avait pas été trop fort en te retenant. Qu’il n’avait pas laissé une marque sur ta peau par inadvertance.

Après avoir vérifié qu’aucune marque n’avait été laissé sur ta peau, ton regard passa de ton bras à ses yeux et tu remarquas enfin son air crispé.

“Non. Non. Ça va. Je n’ai rien, Reid. C’est juste...” Tu ne savais pas comment lui expliquer que tu ne supportais pas le contact physique. Du moins, plus depuis ce fameux jour que tu tentais d’ôter de ton esprit. Celui que tu cherchais désespérément à oublier. Et malgré ça, tu te devais de lui donner des réponses. De lui expliquer pourquoi tu tressaillais lorsque l’on s’approchait de toi. Tu lui devais au moins des explications sur ton comportement. Après tout, il était devenu l’un de tes amis.

“C’est...” Tu te stoppas net en remarquant la devanture de la boutique qui se trouvait à quelques mètres. Sidamo était juste là.

“Le café est tout près. Je… Je pense que ce serait mieux si je t’expliquais tout ça autour d’une tasse de thé.”

Même si ça allait te demander des efforts considérables, tu savais que tu n’avais aucune envie d’avoir cette conversation en plein milieu de la rue et être dans un endroit calme pouvait te permettre de reprendre tes esprits en toute tranquillité.

Sans un mot, ton ami te suivit jusqu'au café. Il était perdu dans ses pensées, ne sachant pas quoi te dire. En entrant, tu fis à peine attention à la décoration. Tu étais simplement pressée de t’asseoir et d’en finir avec l’histoire que tu comptais lui raconter. La tienne.

Après avoir commandé et récupéré vos boissons – un thé pour toi et un café pour lui, vous ne tardâtes pas à vous installer à une table en prenant soin de mettre une certaine distance entre vous. Face à face, vos mains en contact avec vos breuvages, tu ne tardas pas à te lancer dans un grand monologue concernant ta relation passée et le rôle qu’elle avait jouée dans ton aversion envers le contact physique. Ta voix était tremblante, tandis que tu te racontais les péripéties de ta vie amoureuse et que tu te concentrais afin d’éviter que la panique ne finisse par te submerger.

Quant à Spencer, il écoutait chacun de tes mots avec une attention particulière et à chaque nouvel ajout, son cœur se serrait à l’idée que tu aies enduré un tel calvaire. Il comprenait mieux tes réactions, alors que les zones d’ombre de ton passé étaient mises au goût du jour. Alors que tu finissais de raconter ton histoire, il ne put empêcher ses yeux de se poser sur tes mains, enroulées autour de ton mug, et il se mit à penser au fait qu’il aurait aimé poser les siennes par-dessus. Comme pour te réconforter. Te faire comprendre qu’il était là. Mais il n’en fit rien. Parce qu’il savait que ce n’était pas ce que tu voulais et qu’il ne voulait pas provoquer une mauvaise réaction chez toi.

“Merci de m’avoir écouté, Spencer. Je n’aurais jamais imaginé que ça me ferait autant de bien d’en parler à quelqu’un.”

Tes remerciements étaient sincères. C’était comme si le fait de raconter ton histoire te permettait d’être soulagée d’un poids. De faire un pas de plus sur le chemin de la guérison. Et tandis que tu étais perdue dans tes pensées, il ne put s’empêcher de remarquer que tu l’avais appelé par son prénom. C’était la première fois que tu le faisais depuis ton arrivée dans le service et ça lui réchauffait le cœur de savoir que tu te sentais assez à l’aise avec lui pour ne plus l’appeler par son nom de famille.

“Je t’en prie, [T/P]. Je n’imagine pas ce que tu as dû endurer, mais sache que je serai toujours là pour toi. Si tu as besoin de moi, peu importe le moment, je répondrai présent.” Chacun de ses mots étaient choisis avec précision afin de te rassurer et son intonation te fit comprendre à quel point il pensait ce qu’il disait. Il était sincère. Tu pouvais compter sur lui.

Ne trouvant rien à lui répondre, tu te contentas de lui adresser un sourire, avant de prendre une nouvelle gorgée de ton thé. Un silence confortable s’installa entre vous. Un moment de calme qui était appréciable au vu du contexte et qui vous permit de vous évader dans vos pensées, tandis que vous buviez vos breuvages.

Au bout de quelques minutes, tu te souvins de ce qu’il était en train de te dire avant que vous ne voyiez interrompu et confiante à l’idée de briser le silence, tu levas la tête pour t’adresser à lui, croisant ses yeux noisette par la même occasion. Visiblement, il t’observait déjà depuis un moment.

“Je crois que tu étais en train de m’apprendre quelque chose avant que la voiture ne nous interrompt. Qu’est-ce que c’était ?” Tu ressentais le besoin de savoir ce qu’il tenait tant à t’apprendre. De continuer cette discussion qui avait été interrompue et que tu étais impatiente de continuer.

Soudain, le silence fut remplacé par un dialogue animé sur le sujet que vous aviez laissé en suspens. Et tandis qu’il info-dumpait joyeusement sur Annibale Carraci – un célèbre artiste italien du mouvement baroque, tu te mis à penser que le fait de t’ouvrir aux autres n’était peut-être pas une si mauvaise idée que ça, finalement.

TROISIÈME FOIS

Cela faisait quelques jours que vous vous trouviez à Townsend - une bourgade du Tennessee, afin d’arrêter un tueur en série qui avait déjà fait plusieurs victimes et qui ne semblait pas vouloir s’arrêter de tuer. Son modus operandi était simple, puisqu’il s’amusait à les attacher contre un mur et à les torturer vivantes, avant de les laisser pour mortes dans un champ. Le seul fait singulier dans cette affaire résidait dans la présence de quelques versets d’un poème du XVIIIe siècle qu’il tenait à accrocher à la main droite de chacun des cadavres.

Après plusieurs jours à étudier l’affaire dans l’espoir de déterminer le profil du criminel, vous aviez quelques suspects en ligne de mire et vous vous étiez séparés en trois groupes afin les interroger de manière plus efficace. Le groupe A était composé de JJ et d’Hotch. Le groupe B comprenait le duo Prentiss-Rossi. Et tu faisais partie du groupe C avec Morgan et Reid.

En parlant de ce dernier, votre amitié se renforçait au fur et à mesure que les mois passés. Avec le temps, discuter avec lui commençait à avoir l’effet d’une drogue sur ton cerveau. Chacune de vos discussions était un véritable orgasme intellectuel et tes méninges n’étaient jamais mises au repos. Ce fut pour cela qu’en grimpant dans la voiture pour vous rendre au domicile du suspect, vous aviez décidé de vous asseoir tous les deux sur la banquette arrière. Morgan s’était d’ailleurs plaint du fait d’être seul à l’avant de la voiture, mais vous n’aviez pas prêté la moindre attention à ses jérémiades. Vous étiez bien trop occupés à parler du Symbolisme, un mouvement littéraire qui était pertinent dans le cadre de votre enquête.

Une quinzaine de minutes plus tard, la voiture s’arrêta devant la maison d’un certain Billy Meeks. Cet homme, âgé de quarante-quatre ans qui vivait dans un corps de ferme à l’entrée de la ville, était votre potentiel suspect.

Sortant du véhicule, vos trois portières claquèrent en même temps et vous vous dirigeâtes jusqu’au porche de la maison. Là, tu examinas l’entrée avant de te décider à appuyer sur la sonnette.

“M. Meeks, c’est le F.B.I. Ouvrez. On a quelques questions à vous poser.” Ta tentative resta sans la moindre réponse et deux sonneries plus tard, tu crochetais la serrure à l’aide d’une épingle à cheveux. Vous n’aviez pas de temps à perdre, puisque le tueur avait kidnappé une autre femme.

Passant la porte, tu sortis ton arme de ton holster, tout en pénétrant dans la maison avec Spencer sur tes talons. Il était chargé de couvrir tes arrières si la situation venait à dégénérer. Derek, quant à lui, avait décidé de passer par la porte de derrière dans l’espoir de barrer la route au suspect dans l’éventualité où il aurait décidé de s’enfuir. Malheureusement et bien que vous ayez fini par examiner chaque recoin en passant toute la maison au peigne fin, vous n’aviez rien trouvé. Il n’y avait pas le moindre indice et M. Meeks n’était même pas présent à son domicile. Du moins, c’était ce que vous pensiez à ce moment-là.

Tandis que l’un de tes collègues sortait son téléphone portable afin d’appeler le reste de l’équipe pour les prévenir que Billy Meeks n’était probablement pas le tueur que vous cherchiez, une mélodie se fit entendre. Intimant à tes collègues de se taire, tu tendis l’oreille afin d’être sûre de ce que tu semblais avoir attendu. Tu n’eus que quelques secondes à attendre avant que la musique ne reprenne de plus belle. Elle semblait venir du jardin, à l’extérieur de la cuisine. Tu te précipitas alors dehors pour suivre le bruit qui te mena jusqu’à la porte d’un abri de tornade qui, étrangement, n’était pas cadenassée. Sans la moindre hésitation, tu ouvris la porte d’un coup sec avant de descendre l’escalier qui menait à cet espace faiblement éclairé qu’était le sous-sol de la maison.

Dans la pénombre, rien n’était visible et tu ne pus voir la scène d’horreur qu’en étant sur la dernière marche de l’escalier. Là, dans un coin de la pièce, le corps de Tara Kirsch était enchaîné au mur. Couverte de saletés, la jeune femme semblait être vivante et cela, malgré les marques flagrantes qui témoignaient des sévices qu’on lui avait fait subir. Sans prendre le moindre recul sur la situation, toute ton attention se porta sur la victime et tu t’élanças jusqu’à elle afin de lui porter secours. Là fut ton erreur. Ta première en une quinzaine d’enquêtes sur le terrain. Ce fut à cause d’elle qu’un coup brusque fut porté à l’arrière de ton crâne, manquant de t’assommer par la même occasion. Il n’y avait aucun doute possible : le tueur était là et tu t’étais jetée tête baissée dans son antre.

Tes réflexes commencèrent à prendre le pas sur la situation et tu pris le soin de reculer de quelques mètres avant de pivoter sur toi-même, évitant une seconde attaque.

“F.B.I ! Ne faites plus un seul geste et levez les mains en l’air.” T’exclamas-tu d’une voix ferme, tandis que tu braquais ton arme sur l’homme qui se trouvait devant toi.

Ce dernier, dont les vêtements étaient tachés du sang de sa nouvelle proie, te regardait avec un air de défi. Ton cerveau réfléchissait à cent à l’heure. Tu essayais de prévoir ce qui allait se passer. De calculer les probabilités dans l’espoir d’anticiper son prochain mouvement. Il faut croire que tu fus trop lente, parce que, distraite, tu ne remarquas que sur le tard qu’il avait commencé à avancer pour se jeter sur toi.

Motivée par son geste et sous l’effet de la surprise, ton doigt appuya sur la gâchette et un bruit sourd retentit, tandis que la balle sortait de ton arme pour venir se loger dans le torse du tueur. Son corps réagit immédiatement et il s’écroula à terre, commençant à se vider de son sang.

“[T/N] !” Reid cria depuis l’extérieur, avant de débarquer en trombe dans le sous-sol, suivi de Morgan. Ils venaient tous deux d’entendre le coup de feu et commençaient à s'inquiéter, ne sachant pas ce qu’il s’était passé.

Bientôt, les deux hommes se trouvèrent dans la pièce avec toi. Leur regard se porta d’abord sur le suspect qui gisait à terre, à leurs pieds, avant de reporter leur attention sur vous.

Après avoir vérifié qu’elle était toujours en vie, Derek se mit à détacher la victime. Il ne tarda pas la porter pour la faire sortir de ce taudis. Spencer, quant à lui, n’hésita pas une seule seconde et s’approcha de ton corps figé. Tu étais sa seule et unique préoccupation en cet instant.

L’arme toujours pointé devant toi, les yeux figés sur la mare de sang qui s’échappait du corps de l’homme que tu venais d’abattre, ton corps était en état de choc. Tu étais incapable de bouger ou d’émettre le moindre son. Ton ami savait exactement ce à quoi il avait à faire et sans la moindre hésitation, il posa sa main sur la tienne afin de te faire baisser ton arme. Il savait que cela aurait comme effet de te sortir de ta transe et justement, ce simple contact eu un effet instantané. Ton corps se mit à frissonner et tu pus enfin reprendre le contrôle sur tes membres. Toujours abasourdie par ce qu’il venait de se passer, ton regard se posa sur ton ami, alors que tu tentais de balbutier quelques mots.

“Je… Je… Il est...” Ce fut tout ce que tu parvins à dire.

“Mort. Je sais. Le plus important à présent, c’est que l’on sorte d’ici, mais d’abord, laisse-moi te débarrasser de ton arme.” Spencer s’exprimait d’une voix si calme que tu avais presque l’impression que ses paroles n’étaient que des murmures.

Alors que sa main était toujours sur la tienne, il te retira ton arme sans te brusquer. Les frissons ne t’avaient pas quitté, mais contrairement à ton habitude, le contact avec sa peau n’avait provoqué aucune autre réaction physique de ta part. C’était inhabituel, mais tu n’avais pas le temps d’y penser. Tu étais dans l’obligation de remettre cette réflexion à plus tard, parce que tu avais d’autres chats à fouetter en cet instant : à commencer par le fait de suivre les conseils du profiler et d’enfin réussir à reprendre le dessus sur les événements.

“Suis-moi. Il faut qu’on quitte cet endroit.” Dit-il avant de se diriger lentement vers la sortie tout en gardant un œil sur toi.

Sans dire un mot, tu le suivis en prenant soin de faire attention où tu marchais et de ne jeter aucun coup d’œil au cadavre qui gisait à quelques mètres de toi. Ce n’est qu’une fois à l’extérieur, en sentant une brise d’air chatouiller ton visage, que tu pus reprendre tes esprits et sortir de cet état choc dans lequel tu avais été plongé à la suite du coup de feu. Et tout en portant ton regard sur l’homme dont les expressions faciales indiquaient clairement qu’il s’inquiétait pour toi, tu prononças les mots qui allaient te hanter pendant des semaines entières.

“Il est mort. C’est moi qui l’ai tué.”

QUATRIÈME FOIS

À la suite de la mort de Billy Meeks, une enquête interne avait été menée et tes supérieurs avaient fini par déclarer que tout était en ordre. Que, malgré les erreurs que tu avais commises lors de cette enquête, tu avais agi en étant de légitime défense. Que ton tir était justifié. Ainsi, tu avais immédiatement pu reprendre ton poste, même si Hotch t’avait conseillé de prendre quelques jours – ce que tu avais refusé. Tu voulais reprendre le travail et oublier ce qui s’était passé. Il ne s’y opposa pas, même s’il ne cachait pas sa réticence à cette idée.

Après avoir repris le travail, tu en fis de même avec le cours de ta vie. Tu passais du temps avec tes collègues, en particulier avec Spencer. Il devait avouer qu’il adorait ta compagnie et c’était la raison pour laquelle il t’accordait la majorité de son temps-libre. Toutefois, il ne pouvait s’empêcher de s’inquiéter pour toi. Son sixième sens lui laissait penser que tu n’allais pas aussi bien que tu le disais et il ne tarda pas à remarquer les cernes de plus en plus volumineuses qui commençaient à apparaître sous tes yeux. Il essayait d’être vigilant, parce qu’il savait que la première fois où un agent abattait un suspect était toujours la plus dure et que ça pouvait finir par tourmenter la personne qui en était à l’origine. Il essayait donc de veiller sur toi du mieux qu’il le put, mais il était quand même limité dans son champ d’action tant que tu n’adressais pas directement à lui pour lui demander son aide – ce qu’il était quasiment certain que tu ne ferais jamais.

Le petit génie avait raison. Même si tu donnais l’impression que tout allait bien, ce n’était pas le cas dans tous les aspects de ta vie. Ton sommeil était perturbé. Ta conscience te tourmentait et tu ne faisais qu’enchaîner les cauchemars depuis plusieurs semaines. Tu n’arrêtais pas de revivre le moment où tu avais pressé la détente. Tu te sentais coupable et cela, même si l’homme en question avait été un tueur en série. Techniquement, tu avais rendu un grand service à la société, mais ça ne t’empêchait pas d’avoir du mal à accepter le fait que tu avais ôté la vie à un autre être humain. Ton esprit n’arrivait pas à se faire à cette idée.

Cette nuit-là, tu t’étais réveillée en sursaut à cause d’un énième mauvais rêve. Ton corps était couvert de sueur et tes joues étaient baignées de larmes, tandis que tes muscles étaient fatigués. Tu avais besoin de repos, mais tu ne semblais pas être en mesure de pouvoir lui donner ce qu’il voulait et tu ne pouvais décemment pas commencer à t’auto-médicamenter, alors que tu avais un travail à responsabilité. Tu ne savais pas quoi faire pour te sortir de cette situation.

La gorge sèche, tu te levas de ton lit afin d’aller te chercher un verre d’eau. Ton appartement était plongé dans la pénombre et comme tu avais l’habitude de parcourir le chemin, tu n’avais pas ressenti le besoin d’allumer la lumière. Dans le pire des cas, tu te disais que la lampe torche de ton téléphone serait suffisante.

Tandis que tu étais parvenue jusqu’au salon et qu’il ne te restait plus que quelques mètres avant d’atteindre ton réfrigérateur, un bruit sourd retentit dans l’appartement. Tu savais que c’était probablement un objet mal placé qui était tombé par mégarde, mais cela ne t’empêchait pas de succomber à la panique. La frayeur, combinée à toute la fatigue que tu avais accumulée, eut pour effet immédiat de te faire craquer. Tu ne pus que t’effondrer au sol en commençant à pleurer à chaudes larmes. Tu étais dans un état déplorable et tu avais besoin d’aide. Tu ne pouvais pas continuer sur cette voie, sinon tu allais finir par te brûler les ailes.

Quelques minutes s’écoulèrent avant que tu ne saisisses ton téléphone, tu savais ce que tu devais faire. Vers qui tu devais te tourner pour avoir de l’aide. Il n’y avait qu’une personne qui te venait à l’esprit. Parce que tu te souvenais de la promesse qu’elle t’avait faite d’être toujours là pour toi. Celle qui t’avait dit que, peu importe le moment, elle répondrait. Tu composas alors son numéro. Les sept chiffres qui te permettaient d’entrer en contact avec celui qui était devenu ton ami le plus proche – ton meilleur ami, en quelque sorte. Celui en qui tu avais le plus confiance. Celui avec lequel tu passais le plus clair de ton temps, parce que sa compagnie te permettait d’oublier les tracas de la vie. Celui qui – petit à petit – avait brisé la carapace que tu t’étais forgée et pour lequel ton cœur avait commencé à battre d’une drôle de façon. Immédiatement après que tu eus appuyé sur le bouton d’appel, la tonalité se fit entendre et au bout d’à peine une dizaine de secondes, il décrocha.

“Allô ?” La voix endormie de Spencer résonna à travers l’appareil.

“Spencer...” Ce fut le seul mot que tu arrivas à prononcer, avant de te remettre à sangloter.

De l’autre côté du téléphone, alors qu’il venait à peine d’être réveillé par ton coup de fil, Reid se redressa dans son lit dès qu’il t’entendit sangloter. Le simple fait d’entendre ta détresse avait suffit à le réveiller.

“[T/S]. Qu’est-ce qui se passe ?” Son inquiétude transparaissait dans sa voix. Il se faisait un sang d’encre pour toi.

“Je… Je n’y arrive plus.” Ça te tuait d’admettre que tu avais besoin de lui, mais tu savais que tu n’avais pas d’autre choix que de mettre ta fierté de côté. “S’il te plaît, Spencer. Je… J’ai besoin de toi.” Les mots magiques avaient été prononcés et c’était tout ce qu'il avait eu besoin d’entendre pour décider de débarquer chez toi, alors qu’il était deux heures du matin.

“Ne bouge pas. Je m’habille et j’arrive. Je fais au plus vite, d’accord ?” Le brun avait quasiment murmuré ses mots. Ton état le préoccupait grandement.

“Ok.” Ce fut ta seule réponse avant de raccrocher. Il avait répondu présent.

Tu avais enfin admis que tu avais besoin d’aide et il était fier de toi. Il devait avouer que le simple fait que c’était vers lui que tu avais décidé de te tourner lui réchauffait le cœur - le faisait battre plus rapidement qu’à l’ordinaire.

Enfilant ses vêtements à la vitesse de la lumière, Spencer ne tarda pas à quitter son appartement et se dirigea vers sa place de parking. Il utilisait rarement sa voiture, préférant prendre les transports en commun, mais comme il voulait te rejoindre le plus vite possible, il fit une exception. Pour toi.

Sur le sol, avec tes jambes recroquevillées contre toi, tu essayais de te tenir chaud. De combattre le froid en attendant que Spencer arrive. Qu'il débarque pour t’aider.

Au bout de longues minutes qui te semblèrent interminables, trois coups furent portés sur ta porte et tu sus qu’il était là. Que tu n’étais plus seule. Tout en séchant tes larmes pour dégager ton champ de vision, tu te relevas afin d’aller ouvrir. Les quelques mètres qui te séparèrent de la porte furent insupportables et avant de lui ouvrir, tu n’oublias pas d’allumer la lumière – ce qui sembla te brûler légèrement les yeux. Rester dans le noir n’avait pas été ta meilleure idée.

La porte s’ouvrit dans un grincement et le brun apparu dans l’encadrement. Son apparence était différente de celle qu’il arborait habituellement. Il avait des cernes sous les yeux. Ses cheveux étaient en bataille. Et il portait un sweat, couplé à un jogging. Tu devais avouer que tu n’avais pas l’habitude de le voir comme ça. Ça te paraissait si étrange de ne pas le voir apprêter de son éternel cardigan.

Une fois que tu eus arrêté de le reluquer de la tête aux pieds, ses yeux noisette trouvèrent les tiens quasi instantanément et un soupir de soulagement quitta ses lèvres en voyant que tu n'avais rien.

“Je peux entrer ?” Demanda-t-il. Sa voix était encore plus douce qu’à l’accoutumé et ça te faisait fondre.

“Bien sûr.” Tu lui répondis, tout en te décalant pour qu’il puisse pénétrer dans ton appartement.

Tout en se rendant dans le salon, il ne prit pas la peine d’observer ta décoration. Ce n’était pas la première fois que Spencer venait chez toi. Loin de là. Vous aviez l’habitude d’y faire des marathons de films ou de séries – de préférence, en rapport avec la science-fiction. Le choix du lieu était justifié par le fait qu’il trouvait que son appartement faisait tâche par rapport au tien et que ton canapé était cent fois plus confortable que celui qui trônait à l’abandon dans son salon.

Tu n’oublias pas de refermer la porte derrière lui, prenant soin de tourner la clé dans la serrure. Après tout, personne n’était jamais assez prudent. Le suivant du regard, tu te calas contre le comptoir de la cuisine pour observer ses moindres faits et gestes.

“Tu veux que je te serve quelque chose à boire ?” Comme tu n’avais pas eu l’occasion de boire ce fameux verre d’eau, ta gorge te faisait atrocement souffrir. Tu avais besoin de te désaltérer.

“Je pense qu’une tasse de thé nous ferait le plus grand bien.” Il prit la peine de te répondre, avant de retirer son sweat pour dévoiler le tee-shirt qu’il portait en dessous. C’était celui que tu lui avais offert à l’occasion d’une convention – un goodies estampillé du logo de Starfleet.

Sans perdre une seule seconde, tu t’attelas à préparer vos breuvages. Tu avais besoin de te concentrer sur une activité. De ne pas penser au fait que tes nerfs menaçaient de te lâcher. Il fallait que tu te contrôles. Tu ne pouvais décemment pas fondre en sanglots, alors qu’il venait à peine de débarquer chez toi.

Pendant que tu étais occupée à verser le thé dans vos mugs, Reid s’était assis sur le canapé. De sa position, il avait une vue imprenable sur la cuisine. Sur toi. Il se mit donc à observer tes faits et gestes, relevant le moindre petit détail à ton sujet. Des détails qu’il n’avait cessé de remarquer depuis que tu étais entrée dans sa vie. La façon que tu avais de froncer les sourcils quand tu étais concentrée. Tes cheveux emmêlés que tu ne tardais jamais à ramener en un chignon décoiffé. Le chouchou que tu gardais toujours à ton poignet. Les nombreux grains de beauté qu’il pouvait compter sur ton corps. Les taches de rousseur qui parsemaient ton visage, formant comme des constellations sur ta peau. Il ne put s’empêcher de noter un changement. De remarquer que tes yeux étaient bouffis et que tes mains ne pouvaient s’empêcher de trembler, mais à vrai dire, ça lui importait peu. Rien ne pouvait changer son opinion sur toi. Sur ta beauté. Parce qu’à ses yeux, tu restais la plus belle femme qui lui avait été donné de voir.

Ce fut le mouvement dans son champ de vision qui le fit sortir de sa rêverie, puisque tu lui tendis son mug. Il le prit délicatement, effleurant tes doigts avec les siens, tandis que tu prenais le soin de t’asseoir à côté de lui. Tu ramenas tes jambes contre toi, lui adressant un faible sourire avant de prendre une gorgée de ton thé. Ton sourire avait pour vocation de te rassurer – et lui, aussi, par la même occasion. Le hic résidait dans le fait qu’il n’était pas dupe. Qu’après des années à travailler au DSC, il était un profiler hors-pair – ce qui lui permettait de lire à travers toi. De voir les failles qui s’étaient formées au fil des jours.

“[T/S].” Il se lança, n’hésitant pas à te faire part de ce qui le tracassait. Il avait besoin de savoir ce qui t’arrivait, parce que ça lui brisait le cœur de te voir dans cet état. “J’ai envie d’être là pour toi. Toi aussi, sinon tu ne m’aurais jamais téléphoné en plein milieu de la nuit. Mais je ne peux rien faire si tu ne me dis rien. Alors je t’en supplie, confies-toi à moi. Tu sais que je ne te jugerai jamais. Que je serai là pour te prêter une oreille attentive. Pour t’aider du mieux que je le peux. Je te l’ai promis et je tiens toujours mes promesses. Toujours.”

Sa tirade fut tout ce dont tu avais besoin pour enfin trouver le courage de lui raconter. De lui parler du calvaire qu’était devenue ta vie depuis quelques semaines. Tu n’omis rien, lui disant tout ce qui te passait par la tête. Tout ce qui te tourmentait inlassablement. Et comme à son habitude, il t’écoutait attentivement. Il te laissait parler sans t’interrompre. En t’offrant simplement une oreille attentive et des sourires d’encouragement.

Au fil de tes explications, tu t’étais remise à pleurer et son cœur s’était brisé en deux. C’était la première fois qu’il voyait des larmes sur tes joues et ça lui faisait tout sauf plaisir, parce qu’il savait que ce n’était ni de la joie, ni de la gratitude.

Soudain, influencée par l'intimité du moment, tu amorças un mouvement comme pour te rapprocher de lui. Une tentative de grappiller du réconfort et de la chaleur auprès de ton ami. Mais tes doutes vinrent t’assaillir. Est-ce que tu étais prête à le laisser t’enlacer ? Est-ce que c’était quelque chose qu’il voulait ? Que de questions qui te figèrent, te forçant à stopper net toute action que tu pensais accomplir. Il valait mieux que tu te restreignes d’avoir de telles pensées. Toutefois, cela ne passa pas inaperçu aux yeux de Spencer qui avait deviné tes intentions. Et après avoir posé son mug sur la table basse, il t’attira vers lui, tout en prenant soin de ne pas te faire mal. Ta peau se mit immédiatement à frissonner à son contact, mais ton corps ne s’y opposa pas. Il le laissa faire, parce qu’il en avait besoin. Tu l'avais privé du moindre contact physique depuis si longtemps que ça lui manquait terriblement.

Ce fut comme ça que tu te retrouvas dans ses bras et la position dans laquelle vous vous trouviez n’allait probablement pas tarder à devenir votre préféré. Son dos était calé contre l’accoudoir. Ses jambes étaient allongées de chaque côté de ton corps. Ses bras étaient serrés autour de toi, tandis que sa tête reposait contre le canapé. Quant à toi, tu te trouvais entre ses jambes, assise sur ton côté droit avec les jambes légèrement recroquevillées. Ta tête reposait sur son torse et tu pouvais entendre le moindre battement de son cœur. Tu avais cessé de sangloter et tu essayais simplement de profiter de la chaleur de son corps. De savourer ce moment privilégié que tu passais avec lui.

Une fois qu’il fut certain que cette position te convenait, Spencer commença à te bercer contre lui et ce fut là, alors que tu étais blottie dans ses longs bras fins et que son cœur tambourinait comme une mélodie à tes oreilles, que tu admis enfin ce que tu avais commencé à réaliser depuis quelque temps. La raison pour laquelle ce n’était pas anodin si tu te mettais à supporter son contact physique. Si tu appréciais autant sa compagnie. Si ton cœur ratait un battement à chaque fois qu’il posait ses beaux yeux noisette sur les tiens. Tu étais tout simplement en train de tomber amoureuse de lui.

CINQUIÈME FOIS

Après cette fameuse nuit, tu as décidé de voir une thérapeute et ça t’a beaucoup aidé. Tu ne faisais presque plus de cauchemars, arrivant enfin à te débarrasser de toute ta culpabilité. Petit à petit, tu commençais à aller mieux. À aller de l’avant.

En parallèle, tu n’as fait que de te rapprocher de Spencer. Vous avez fini par devenir inséparables et même si tu n’initiais jamais le contact physique, il ne se privait plus de poser sa main sur ton bras ou de te faire un câlin s’il sentait que tu en avais besoin. Fidèle à toi-même, tu continuais toujours à frissonner à son contact, mais tu le laissais faire, parce qu’au fond, tu adorais avoir sa peau contre la tienne.

Tout changea le jour où, alors que vous travailliez tous les deux dans l’open-space, il avait décidé de t’inviter à un rencard. Tu te souvins que ce fut extrêmement drôle à voir, parce qu’il ne faisait que de bégayer et qu’il était tellement nerveux qu’il n’arrêtait pas de renverser les affaires qu’il y avait sur son bureau. Heureusement – et pour son plus grand bonheur, tu avais accepté avec plaisir, car tu ne voyais aucun inconvénient quant au fait d’avoir un date avec ton meilleur ami. Après tout, tu lui faisais confiance, il était adorable et vous vous plaisiez mutuellement. Tu n’avais donc aucun souci à te faire.

Quelques jours après, le petit génie te donna un minimum de détails concernant ses plans pour le jour de votre date. Il préférait garder le secret afin que tout soit une surprise pour toi et même si tu détestais ça, tu le laissas faire. Tu devais avouer que tu étais vachement impatiente à l’idée de voir ce qu’il avait préparé. De découvrir tout ce qu’il avait prévu pour votre rencard.

Le jour J arriva et tu n’en menais pas large. Jusqu’à présent, tu n’avais eu que des pensées positives concernant ton rendez-vous avec Spencer, mais cela commençait à changer à mesure que l’heure approchée. L’appréhension était à son comble. Tu commençais à être assaillie de doutes et ce fut une intervention express de la part de Penelope qui te permit de te calmer avant qu’il ne soit l’heure pour lui de venir te chercher.

Ce fut vers treize heures de l’après-midi que le profiler débarqua chez toi. Les mains tremblantes, tu lui ouvris la porte dès que la sonnette retentit. Là, devant toi, se trouvait ton meilleur ami dont les mains étaient encombrées par un énorme bouquet de lys péruviens. Tes fleurs préférées. Comme à son habitude, il était vêtu d’un veston dont les couleurs s’accordaient avec celle de sa chemise et de son pantalon. Il avait agrémenté le tout de ses éternelles converses. Tu devais avouer que tu adorais le fait qu’il s’habille de façon aussi formelle, parce que ça lui allait si bien et qu’est-ce qu’il était beau.

Quant à lui, en te voyant dans l’encadrement, il ne put s’empêcher de te reluquer de la tête aux pieds. Tu avais enfilé une robe légère. Un vêtement qu’il ne t’avait quasiment jamais vu porter, puisque tu préférais les jeans. Tes escarpins donnaient l’impression que tu avais de longues jambes et te faisaient gagner plusieurs centimètres, même si ton ami continuait à faire quelques têtes de plus que toi. Tes cheveux étaient relevés en une queue-de-cheval haute crantée. Et tes lèvres brillaient dû à l’utilisation de ton baume-à-lèvres. Il te trouvait sublime.

“[T/S], tu… Tu es magnifique.” Il avait rougi en te complimentant. “Tiens. Elles sont pour toi.” Rajouta-t-il en t’offrant le bouquet de fleur qu’il tenait dans les mains.

Tu te mis à rougir en entendant ses mots. Tu n’étais pas habituée au fait de recevoir des compliments, mais ça te réchauffait le cœur. Tu lui lanças alors ton plus beau sourire.

“Oh. Merci, Spence.” Dis-tu en te saisissant du bouquet par la tige et en commençant à les sentir. “Hm… Qu’est-ce qu’elles sentent bon !”

Laissant la porte ouverte, tu partis dans la cuisine afin de placer les fleurs dans un vase, puis tu déposas le récipient sur la table de la cuisine. Le bouquet complimentait ta décoration intérieure. L’égayait même. Il les avait tellement bien choisi.

Attrapant ton sac-à-main, tu retournas dans l’entrée pour y retrouver Spencer. Il était temps que vous vous rendiez à l’endroit qu’il avait prévu pour votre rencard.

Sur la route, vous ne fîtes que discuter de choses et d’autres. Tu en profitas même pour lui parler de ta thérapie et il te félicita des progrès que tu avais fait, avant que vous ne changiez de sujet. Vous ne vouliez pas tout gâché en parlant de sujets sensibles.

Une demi-heure plus tard, il s’arrêta lorsque vous fûtes arrivés devant le musée national d'histoire naturelle des États-Unis. Une plaisante surprise, puisque tu avais toujours rêvé de t’y rendre.

“Je n’en reviens pas que tu te sois rappelé que je rêvais d’avoir un rencard au musée.” T’exclamas-tu en te tournant vers lui avec des étoiles dans les yeux et un énorme sourire aux lèvres.

“Dois-je en conclure que ça te plaît ?” Demanda-t-il nerveusement en plongeant son regard dans le tien.

Tu te mis à rire et ce son sonna comme une mélodie à ses oreilles. Ça lui faisait plaisir de constater que tu allais mieux.

“Évidemment. C’est parfait, Spence. Vraiment.” Lui répondis-tu tout le pressant jusqu’à l’entrée.

Tu étais impatiente de découvrir le musée en compagnie de Spencer et aussi, d’avoir l’honneur d’entendre ce qu’il avait à te raconter sur les expositions. Tu adorais qu’il te partage la moindre information qu’il avait lue ou appris et ça, depuis votre toute première conversation. Tu te rappelais encore du fait qu’il t’avait fait un monologue. Ce fut les premiers points de sympathie qu’il gagna auprès de toi et aujourd’hui, vous en étiez là. À visiter une exposition pour votre tout premier rencard.

Vous avez passé quelques heures dans le Smithsonian avant de décider d’aller dans une crêperie pour le goûter. Vous aviez commandé des smoothies, en plus de vos gourmandises. Lui, à la fraise. Toi, à l’ananas. Au moment de payer, tu l’avais devancé sans la moindre hésitation – ce qui avait eu pour effet de provoquer sa moue boudeuse. En retour, tu n’avais pas hésité à lui tirer la langue et vous aviez partagé un fou rire. Tandis que vous dégustiez votre commande, il se promit mentalement de tout faire pour réussir à payer le restaurant. Tu ne l’aurais pas à l’usure.

En sortant de l’établissement, tu t’étais tournée vers Spencer. Tu étais prête à le remercier pour la journée que vous aviez passée ensemble, lorsqu’il te prit de court en anticipant ce que tu allais dire.

“Ce n’est pas fini, {T/S].” Dit-il simplement. La surprise se lut quasi immédiatement sur ton visage.

“Mais je…” Tu ne t’attendais pas à ça. Tu ne savais réellement pas quoi dire, parce que votre date était déjà assez parfait comme ça. Tu n’aurais jamais imaginé que ses plans s’étendaient à davantage que le musée et la crêperie. “Où est-ce que tu comptes m’emmener, Spence ?”

“Suis-moi et tu verras.” Ce fut la seule réponse qu’il te donna, tandis qu’il commençait à avancer dans la direction de sa surprise.

Intriguée, tu n’hésitas pas une seule seconde à le suivre, tout en se demandant où est-ce qu’il allait t‘emmener. Tu évaluas les possibilités pendant que vous marchiez côte à côte. Il était dix-huit heures, alors certaines activités n’étaient pas faisables. Peut-être un restaurant, étant donné que c’était bientôt l’heure du dîner. Mais lequel ? Il y en avait des tas dans la capitale. Sans plus d’indices, tu étais incapable de le deviner et tu savais qu’il ne te dirait jamais ce qu’il avait prévu.

Après avoir marché pendant de longues minutes, vous vous arrêtâtes devant l’établissement et en regardant l’enseigne, tu ne pus qu’écarquiller les yeux en prenant conscience du lieu dans lequel il avait réservé. Ce dernier était un restaurant huppé de la ville qui servait une cuisine franco-belge. Les prix étaient astronomiques, mais tout le monde ne tarissait pas d’éloges à son sujet. C’était probablement l’un des meilleurs restaurants de la capitale. Le genre d’endroits qui était fréquenté par les célébrités et les personnes aisées.

“Marcel’s by Robert Wiedmaier ? Spencer ! T’es complètement dingue. Tu le sais, ça ?” T’exclamas-tu tout en te tournant pour lui faire face.

Tu étais persuadée qu’il avait perdu la tête. Que tu ne méritais pas de dîner dans un tel restaurant.

“Je sais, mais je voulais te surprendre et que tout soit parfait.” Se justifia-t-il. “Tu le mérites, [T/P].” Il rajouta dans un murmure.

Et sans attendre une réponse de ta part, ton ami te saisit par la main et vous dirigea vers l’entrée.

---

Le début du dîner se passa dans le plus grand calme. Tu ne savais pas comment agir en étant dans un tel restaurant, alors tu restais silencieuse. Tu passais ton temps à observer la décoration avec émerveillement. Ce n’est qu’au milieu de celui-ci que votre conversation reprit. Tu étais déjà plus à l’aise à l’idée de manger dans ce lieu. Vous veniez de finir vos plates lorsque vous surprîtes une conversation entre les deux clients de la table à votre droite.

“Qu’est-ce qu’ils sont mignons, Robert ! Ces jeunes forment un si joli couple.” S’exclama une femme âgée en parlant de vous à son mari, tandis qu’ils quittaient leur table.

Cela eut pour effet de vous faire rougir, ainsi que de vous forcer à détourner les yeux. Spencer se concentra sur la carte des desserts, tandis que tes yeux se mirent à fixer le lustre au plafond. Vous étiez heureux du compliment, même si cela avait provoqué une gêne passagère entre vous.

Au bout d’une minute, motivée par les effets du verre de vin que tu avais bu, tu te mis à balbutier la première remarque qui te passa par la tête, afin de relancer la conversation.

“Tu sais…” Spencer releva la tête pour t'écouter, tout en plongeant ses yeux noisette dans les tiens. “… je crois qu’elle n’a pas tord.” Rajoutas-tu.

“C’est vrai ?” Surpris, il manqua de s’étrangler et tu ne pus t’empêcher de rire face à son expression faciale.

“Oui, Spence. Je trouve qu’on va bien ensemble.” Confirmas-tu avec un énorme sourire lorsque sa toux fut passée.

Vous vous mîtes à sourire comme deux idiots sans vous quitter du regard, tandis qu’il plaçait sa main sur la tienne par-dessus la table. Vous viviez un moment privilégié. Un moment qui n’était rien qu’à vous. Si vous aviez pu, tu étais certaine que vous vous seriez embrassé en cet instant. Malheureusement, tout ça de courte durée, puisque le serveur arriva afin de savoir ce que vous souhaitiez commander comme dessert. Sans la moindre hésitation, vous aviez opté pour le partage d’une délicieuse pâtisserie. Cela rendait le tout encore plus romantique et tu étais certaine que ce date serait inoubliable. Que vous vous créiez des souvenirs mémorables.

Le reste du dîner fila à une vitesse et aux alentours de vingt-trois heures, il fut temps de rentrer et le petit génie insista pour te ramener chez toi. Alors que vous marchiez dans les rues de Washington, il déposa sa veste par-dessus ta robe lorsqu’il remarqua que tu avais la chair de poule et ce fut ainsi que vous marchiez jusqu’à chez toi. Dans le silence. Toi, avec sa veste sur les épaules. Lui, avec un sourire idiot qui ne semblait pas vouloir le quitter. Et le petit plus, vos doigts tendrement entrelacés comme pour montrer au monde qu’il n”y avait que l’autre qui importait.

Toutefois, même si votre rencard s’était extraordinairement bien passé, la boule dans ton estomac n’avait pas disparu pour autant. Les doutes t’assaillaient. Est-ce que tu étais prête à t’engager dans une nouvelle relation amoureuse ? Est-ce que tes traumatismes ne seraient pas un frein à votre bonheur ? Est-ce que tu méritais vraiment un homme aussi attentionné que Spencer Reid ? Plus tu te rapprochais de ton appartement, plus les questions se bousculaient dans ton esprit. Tu ne savais pas quoi faire.

Tandis que tu t’essayais d’y voir plus clair dans tes pensées, Spencer profitait du silence afin de rejouer votre rendez-vous dans son esprit. Qu’est-ce qu’il avait adoré cette journée ! Tout s’était déroulé comme il l’avait imaginé. Tu avais adoré la visite du Smithsonian et le goûter à la crêperie, ainsi que le repas dans ce restaurant huppé. Il était si fier de lui d’avoir réussi à te concocter le date parfait. D’avoir pu se rendre compte qu’il était incapable de séduire la femme de ses rêves.

De temps en temps, il te jetait un coup d’œil afin de t’admirer, mais ce fut lorsqu’il croisa ton regard que son cœur rata un battement. Il y avait quelque chose d’étrange à l’intérieur de tes yeux. C’était comme s’il y voyait un éclat de tristesse. Mais ça ne lui semblait pas logique, parce que tu souriais et que tu avais eu l’air d'apprécier l’intégralité de la journée qu’il avait préparée. Tout s’était bien passé, non ?

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Une fois que tu fus arrivée devant ta porte, tu te retournas vers ton meilleur ami. Tu ne le lâchais pas du regard, essayant de ne pas montrer ce que tu ressentais. De ne pas te trahir en laissant transparaître tes doutes. Tu n’avais aucune envie qu’il pense que tu n’avais pas apprécié votre rendez-vous. Aucune envie qu’il pense qu’il n’avait pas été à la hauteur. Aucune envie de lui briser le cœur.

“Merci pour cette journée, Spence ! C’était incroyable. Magique, si je puis dire. J’ai adoré partager tous ses moments avec toi. C’était vraiment le meilleur rencard que je n’ai jamais eu ! ” Tu avais déballé à toute allure.

L’excitation avait pris le dessus. Malgré tout, une pointe de tristesse était perceptible dans ta voix, alors que tu le regardais comme s’il était la sixième merveille du monde.

“Mais ?” Te demanda-t-il avec appréhension, tout en te regardant fixement.

Sa question te surprit. Tu pensais vraiment que tu n’avais rien laissé transparaître.

Sans plus tarder, après avoir pris une profonde respiration, tu commenças à lui faire part de tes doutes.

“Mais je ne pense pas que je sois prête pour une nouvelle relation. Je pensais que je l’étais. Je te le jure. C’est juste que...” Alors que tu lui disais tout ce que tu avais sur le cœur, il détourna le regard. C’était trop dur pour lui de continuer à te regarder.

“…je suis trop bousillée pour toi. Tu mérites quelqu’un de mieux. Quelqu’un qui saura te rendre tes contacts physiques. Quelqu’un qui te saura te rendre heureux. Pas quelqu’un comme moi. Une femme qui te réveille en plein milieu de la nuit, parce qu’elle est incapable de se prendre en main tout seule. Qui est effrayée à l’idée de te laisser rentrer dans ta vie. Qui doute de la moindre chose qu’elle fait. Qui ne mérite pas l’amour que tu pourrais lui apporter. Tu mérites mieux. Tellement mieux, Spence. Tu mérites tout le bonheur du monde et ça me tue de me dire que je ne peux pas te l’apporter.” Tu pleurais en finissant ton monologue.

En lui jetant un coup d’œil, tu ne pus que constater le fait que ses yeux étaient emplis de larmes. Des perles salées dont tu étais la cause. Le fait de le voir aussi blessé t’était insupportable. Tu aurais préféré que ça se passe autrement. Tu te maudissais de ne pas être assez forte. D’être tellement traumatisée que tu étais obligée de le laisser partir. De le laisser être heureux d’une autre façon. Sans toi.

“Je suis un idiot. Je n’aurais jamais dû te proposer ce rendez-vous. J’aurais dû savoir que tu ne ressentais pas la même chose. C’est moi qui suis désolée, [T/P]. J’aurais dû anticiper.” Le profiler enchaîna sans te regarder.

Il se blâmait pour la façon dont les choses avaient tournées. Pour ne pas avoir pu prévoir ce qui était évident : le fait qu’une femme comme toi ne pouvait pas s’intéresser à un homme comme lui. Qu’est-ce qu’il avait été idiot !

Interloquée, tu ouvris la bouche pour parler. Il se méprenait totalement. Évidemment que tu t’intéressais à lui. Qu’il te plaisait. Tu étais même totalement éprise de lui.

“Non. Non. Spence. Tu m’as mal compris. J’avais vraiment envie d’avoir ce...” Tu n’eus pas le temps de finir ta phrase pour rectifier le tir qu’il t’interrompait en déposant un doux baiser sur ton front.

“Bonne nuit, [T/S].” Dit-il avant de s’écarter.

Il n’hésita pas une seule seconde avant de tourner les talons et de dévaler les escaliers pour rentrer chez lui.

“Attends ! Spence ! Je...” Tu t’étais lancée à sa poursuite, mais il était trop tard. Il avait déjà quitté la résidence.

Découragée, tu n’eus pas la force de remonter les escaliers, alors tu te laissas tomber sur la première marche que tu trouvas. Tu étais dans un sale état, parce que ton mascara avait commencé à couler. Ce fut à cet instant que tu remarquas que tu portais encore sa veste. Son odeur en était imprégné. Tu te mis alors à sangloter. Tu avais tout gâché. Absolument tout.

En moins de cinq minutes, tu venais de changer le cours de la soirée. D’anéantir tous les espoirs de Spencer. Et tu t’en voulais tellement que, si tu avais été une souris, tu te serais cachée dans un minuscule trou. Parce que tu venais tout simplement de briser le cœur de ton meilleur ami. De celui qui s’avérait être la personne à laquelle tu tenais le plus au monde. De celui que tu aimais.

(+)

Des semaines s’étaient écroulées depuis le jour où tu as brisé le cœur de Spencer et cela avait eu des conséquences sur votre relation. Même s’il était ton ami, il restait à distance, essayant de ne pas trop s’approcher de toi. Il avait cessé de t’appeler par ton surnom et de te toucher. Vous n’étiez clairement plus aussi proches qu’avant et ça te tuait de voir à quel point votre relation avait changé.

Toi, ce que tu voulais, c’était retrouver ton meilleur ami. L’homme qui avait débarqué chez toi en plein milieu de la nuit pour te rassurer et qui t’avait gardé dans ses bras pendant des heures. Celui qui te faisait rire. Celui qui t’avait fait découvrir la ville. Celui qui t’avait redonné envie de te laisser aller à un contact physique. Celui dont tu étais tombée éperdument amoureuse. Il te manquait terriblement, mais tu ne pouvais que t’en mordre les doigts, parce que c’était de ta faute. Tu avais vraiment tout gâché.

Le reste de l’équipe n’a pas tardé à remarquer que vous vous étiez éloignés. Que vous ne vous parliez plus comme avant. Que vous ne passiez plus tout votre temps ensemble. Aucun d’eux n’avait donc tardé à venir vous parler pour savoir ce qu’il s’était passé, mais Spencer les avait rembarré sans ménagement. Il tenait à sa vie privée. Quant à toi, la seule personne à qui tu t’étais confiée, était Penelope. Tu lui avais fait promettre de tenir sa langue et tu avais l’impression qu’elle arrivait à garder le secret – pour l’instant. Ce que tu ne savais pas, c’est que, dans son coin, l’analyste fomentait un plan afin de vous rapprocher. D’arranger les choses entre ses deux amis.

---

Un jour, alors que tu passais dans le couloir qui donnait sur le bureau de Derek, tu ne pus t’empêcher de surprendre une conversation. Tu ne t’en préoccupas pas et tu allais continuer ton chemin, lorsque le nom de Spencer fut prononcé par ce qui semblait être la voix de Penelope. Tu te stoppas net dans ta marche, revenant sur tes pas. Tu te glissas contre le mur, près de la porte de son bureau, afin d’espionner la conversation qui avait lieu entre tes deux collègues.

“Tu te rends compte, Derek ? Notre petit génie a eu un date avec une jolie blonde qu’il a rencontrée dans une librairie. Il m’a adit que leur premier date avait été incroyable qu’il avait déjà prévu de se revoir. Je lui souhaite que ça fonctionne et j’espère qu’il nous la présentera si ça devient plus sérieux entre eux.”

En entendant ses mots, ton cœur loupa un battement. Ton meilleur ami avait eu un date. Tu ne savais pas ce qui te blessait le plus à cette idée : le fait de l’apprendre de la bouche de Garcia ou le fait que tu avais laissé passer ta chance. Tu devais avouer que tu ressentais une pointe de jalousie à l’idée que quelqu’un d’autre ait pu capturer son cœur. Que ce soit une autre femme qui prenne ta place. Ça aurait dû être toi. Ça devait être toi.

Au fur et à mesure que tu ressassais la conversation, tu sentais la panique qui montait en toi. Ce n’était jamais bon signe, alors tu décidas de quitter ta cachette pour te précipiter aux toilettes. Tu avais besoin de souffler. De reprendre tes esprits. Parce que tu sentais que les larmes montées. Que tes nerfs étaient prêts à lâcher. Que tu te laissais submerger par tes émotions.

Une fois que tu atteignis les toilettes, tu te précipitas vers l’un des lavabos afin de te passer de l’eau sur le visage. Il fallait que tu te calmes. Que tu évites à tout prix de céder à la panique.

Dans ta tête, tout était embrouillé. Tu ne savais pas quoi faire. Enfin, si, mais est-ce que c’était possible ? Comment est-ce que tu étais censée arranger les choses ? Et puis, est-ce que c’était ce qu’il voulait ? Après tout, il s’était éloigné. Il avait décidé de protéger son cœur en s’éloignant de celle qui l’avait brisé. De toi.

“Merde. Merde. Merde.” Te répétas-tu en te prenant la tête à deux mains.

Cette nuit-là, les choses n’auraient jamais dû se passer ainsi. Tu n’aurais jamais dû laisser tes doutes prendre le dessus. Tu aurais dû les faire taire. En faire fi. Tu aurais dû écouter ton cœur plutôt que ta tête. Tu aurais dû l’embrasser au lieu de paniquer et de le repousser. Tu aurais dû te battre pour ce que tu voulais au lieu de choisir la solution de facilité. Tu aurais dû te battre pour vous. Pour lui.

Tandis que tu sortais des toilettes après une dizaine de minutes passée à te maudire et à reprendre tes esprits, tu étais certaine d’une chose : il fallait que tu trouves un moyen de l’approcher. De lui parler. De l’obliger à t’écouter. De faire en sorte que tout s’arrange entre vous. Et bien plus que ça, tu avais besoin de lui dire tout ce que tu avais sur le cœur. De lui dévoiler la moindre de tes pensées à son égard. De lui faire part de tout ce que tu ressentais pour lui. Il le fallait avant qu’il ne soit trop tard. Avant qu’il ne t’échappe pour de bon. Avant qu’il n’offre son cœur à une autre.

---

Cinq jours passèrent et tu n’avais toujours pas eu le courage de l’approcher. Tu avais eu plusieurs occasions de le faire, mais tu avais toujours fini par te dégonfler. Tu avais tellement peur qu’il te rejette que la peur te paralysait. Elle t’empêchait de faire ce que tu avais envie de faire. Ce que tu te devais de faire.

En parallèle, tu n’avais pas le temps d’élaborer une stratégie, parce que vous aviez été appelé sur une enquête dans le Colorado. Par conséquent, même si le Docteur Reid ne quittait jamais tes pensées, tu avais d’autres choses à faire que de t’inquiéter de votre statut relationnel. Tu devais te concentrer sur ton travail et donner le maximum de toi-même. Des vies en dépendaient.

---

Deux jours plus tard, alors que votre enquête était au point mort et que vous galériez à établir un profil convenable, Spencer avait découvert une piste solide concernant l’homme qui était responsable de ses enlèvements. Comme à l’accoutumé, l'équipe s’était divisée en plusieurs groupes. Comme tu ne faisais plus équipe avec lui, on t’avait assigné Emily et Hotch – ce dont tu étais ravie. Les duos étaient respectivement chargés de se rendre à l’entrepôt du suspect et chez la mère de ce dernier, tandis que vous aviez pour mission d’interroger ses collègues et c’était ce que vous faisiez lorsque vous aviez reçu un coup de fil.

“Allô ? Hotch, c’est JJ. On l’a eu. Les victimes sont toutes là. On l’a eu, mais...”

“Mais quoi ?” T’exclamas-tu à travers le combiné en l’arrachant des mains de ton supérieur.

Tu savais qu’elle faisait équipe avec Spencer et le début de sa phrase n’augurait rien de bon pour lui. Tu étais intérieurement en train de prier pour qu’il ne lui soit rien arrivé de grave, alors que la panique commençait à te gagner.

“Reid est blessé. Il s’est battu contre le kidnappeur et ça s’est mal fini. Il est sacrément amoché. Je dirai qu’il a plusieurs côtes cassées, mais on attend l’ambulance pour qu’il le prenne en charge.”

Hotch s’apprêtait à te réprimander, mais lorsqu’il vit l’état dans lequel tu te trouvais, il s’abstint. Tes mains tremblaient tellement que tu manquas presque de lâcher le téléphone.

“On arrive.” Dit-il simplement après avoir repris l’appareil, puis il raccrocha avant de se tourner vers toi.

“[T/N]. On y va.” Il n’eut rien besoin de rajouter que tu étais déjà en train de te diriger vers la voiture.

Comme tu étais déjà loin, tu n’eus pas le temps de remarquer qu’Emily et Hotch s’étaient regardés avec la même expression sur le visage. Comme s’ils pensaient à la même chose.

---

Le trajet en voiture fut interminable et tu croyais que tu allais perdre la tête à force d’attendre. Tu avais besoin de le voir. De le serrer dans tes bras. Il fallait que tu puisses constater de tes propres yeux qu’il allait bien. Qu’il allait s’en remettre.

Dix minutes plus tard, Hotch se garait devant l’entrepôt. Les victimes étaient agglutinées dehors. Certains étaient pris en charge, tandis que d’autres n’avaient rien, mais étaient en état de choc. Les diverses ambulances étaient déjà là et tu espérais que tu n’étais pas arrivée trop tard. Que tu n’aurais pas à supporter le trajet jusqu’à l'hôpital le plus proche dans l’espoir de le voir.

Heureusement, alors que tu venais de renfermer la portière de la voiture, un brancard fut transporté à l’extérieur du bâtiment. Tu n’eus besoin que de quelques secondes pour comprendre que c’était lui. Que ça ne pouvait être que lui. Il fut amené devant les portes du véhicule, avant que les ambulanciers ne retournent à l'intérieur de l’entrepôt pour s’occuper d’autres blessés. Ce fut le moment que tu choisis pour te précipiter à son chevet.

Spencer, lui, se concentrait sur sa respiration. Il essayait d’évaluer les dégâts corporels que le suspect lui avait infligés. Ce ne fut donc que lorsqu’il leva la tête qu’il te vit approcher. Toi qui courais à une vitesse folle dans sa direction.

Une fois que tu fus devant lui, tu pris quelques secondes pour reprendre ta respiration avant de te jeter sur lui pour le prendre dans tes bras. Ce geste eut pour effet de le surprendre et de lui procurer des frissons, mais il n’hésita pas une seule seconde avant de passer ses bras autour de toi pour te faciliter la tâche. Tu venais d’initier le contact physique avec lui et il en était extrêmement flatté, mais le plus important à ses yeux en cet instant, c’était qu’il sentait ton cœur battre contre son torse. Et qu’est-ce que ça lui avait manqué de sentir ta peau contre la sienne !

“Je suis désolée, Spence. Je ne suis qu’une pauvre idiote.” Commenças-tu, alors que tu humais son odeur afin de te donner du courage.

Il allait t’interrompre, mais tu brisas votre étreinte avant de placer ton index contre ses lèvres pour l’empêcher de parler.

“Laisse-moi finir. C’est important.” Lui intimas-tu sans le lâcher du regard.

Tes mains avaient continué de trembler, mais tu savais que tu ne devais pas t’arrêter à ça. Que tu devais ignorer les signes physiques. Que tu devais passer au-dessus de cet inconfort afin de te livrer à lui. De lui confier tout ce que tu avais sur le cœur.

“J’avais peur de ne pas être à la hauteur. De ne pas être celle qu’il te fallait. J’ai laissé mes doutes prendre le dessus sur ce que je ressentais et j’ai tout gâché entre nous. Je t’ai repoussé, te brisant le cœur par la même occasion. Mais ce n’était pas ce que je voulais. Je te le jure. J’aurais dû écouter mon cœur au lieu de te pousser à croire que j’avais accepté de sortir avec toi juste pour ne pas te blesser. Parce que ce n’était pas le cas. Si j’ai accepté, c’est parce que tu me plaisais. Parce que tu me plais toujours. Parce que tu es celui qui m’a permis de me sentir vivante à nouveau. Celui qui m’a redonné foi en l’amour. Celui qui as toujours été là pour moi. Celui qui n’a pas hésité à me rejoindre en plein milieu de la nuit pour me réconforter. Celui qui m’a fait passé des moments inoubliables.” Ton débit de parole était rapide, parce que tu étais nerveuse et que tu avais peur qu’il ne te laisse pas la chance de finir.

Tout en continuant, tu ne pouvais empêcher ton regard de se poser sur ses lèvres. Qu’est-ce que tu avais envie de l’embrasser. Ce geste ne passa d’ailleurs pas inaperçu aux yeux de Spencer qui affichait – à présent – un sourire en coin.

“Et ça me rend dingue de me dire que j’ai peut-être laissé passer ma chance avec toi. Parce que la vérité, c’est que je suis follement amoureuse de toi, Spence. Je ressens pour toi des choses que je n’ai jamais ressenti pour personne et je comprendrais si tu ne voulais plus de moi, parce que j’ai merdé, mais j’avais besoin que tu le saches. Parce que je ne peux pas continuer à vivre avec ce secret. Alors voilà, je suis là, devant toi, et je me livre à nu. Parce que, pour une fois, la meilleure chose à faire est d’écouter mon cœur. Parce que j’ai besoin de toi dans ma vie et que je ne peux plus cacher le fait que je t’aime.”

Dès que tu eus fini, ton meilleur ami t’attira à lui en prenant soin de ne pas te blesser. Comme ses yeux n’arrêtaient pas de faire l’aller-retour entre tes lèvres et tes yeux, tu compris où il voulait en venir. C’était quelque chose dont tu avais envie depuis des mois, alors sans la moindre hésitation, tu approchas ta tête et déposas tes lèvres délicatement sur les siennes. Ses fines mains vinrent se placer des deux côtés de ton visage. Vos lèvres bougeaient à l’unisson. Des frissons parcourent ton corps, mais une fois de plus, c’était différent. Tu savais qu’ils étaient là parce que tu en avais envie et non pas parce que tu appréhendais son toucher.

Lorsque vous arrivâtes à bout de souffle, vous vous séparâtes, tout en prenant soin de garder vos visages à quelque centimètres l’un de l’autre.

“Je t’aime, aussi.” Murmura-t-il contre tes lèvres, avant de t’attirer vers lui et de recommencer à t’embrasser.

Ses trois petits mots couplés à son baiser eurent comme effet de te faire rater plusieurs battements. C’était dingue l’effet que cet homme avait sur toi. Sur ton corps.

Tandis que vous vous embrassiez passionnément, ton esprit ne pouvait s’empêcher de vagabonder. Il trouvait que ses lèvres étaient aussi douces qu’il les avait imaginées. Quant à son baiser, il était de ceux qui vous laissaient sur votre faim. Qui vous donnaient envie d’en partager un tas d’autres. Le genre de baisers inoubliables qui restaient gravés dans votre mémoire.

Après quelques minutes à profiter de la présence de l’autre, vous fûtes interrompus par les ambulanciers qui venaient déplacer celui qui était désormais ton petit-ami. Ce ne fut qu’une fois qu’ils eurent fini de le monter dans l’ambulance, tu te glissas sur la banquette près de son brancard. Il te lança un sourire, tandis que ses yeux noisette se posaient sur les tiens. Tu lui pris délicatement la main pour déposer un baiser sur sa paume avant de la garder fermement dans la tienne. Tu avais décidé de ne plus le lâcher. De toujours garder un œil sur lui. Et ça commençait par le fait de monter dans l’ambulance avec lui et de maintenir un contact physique avec sa peau. Parce que tu en avais besoin. Parce qu’il en avait besoin. Parce que vous aviez mutuellement besoin l’un de l’autre. Parce que le lien qui vous unissait était si… profond.

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