#pizza filled filing cabinet

[onippep]

Wait, do you two live together? Can we get to know a little more about you?

Kkkkiiiinda. It's... Eh, alright, let's give a little rundown from when the Tower collapsed:

I grabbed "Fake Peppino," as we knew it at the time, on my way out of the Tower. It was instinct. I couldn't leave anyone in there in good faith, even if they kicked my ass.

"Fake Peppino" took to this rescue in a way that was really weird to me. First this creepy clone-thing of me was trying to kill me in that tower, now he's crawling around the walls of my Pizzeria, copying my moves and hanging out with everyone.

It was an active few months from then on out. Peppino's Pizza became a bit of a hangout spot for the Tower's refugees. I... loved it, to bits. It got annoying and stressful, and my anxiety would always make things worse, but in the end it was always some loud, goofy fun. Business boomed. I stayed afloat and partially payed off some of my loan.

Eventually, stuff started to calm down. Construction projects started popping up nearby; Toppins and cheeseslimes and Bosses and the likes making homes for themselves, relocating, finding new places to go. Business slowed.

I'd encounter Fake-me at odd times, like after dark or at dawn before opening. He'd always coincidentally be taking out the trash at the same time as me, or it'd somehow already be in the parlor before it opens, cleaning dishes, mopping the floor... like it owned the place. It pissed me off.

Thinking this guy was trying to take over my Pizzeria and commit identity fraud, I met it out back after closing one night, ready to lay down a good beating, verbal or physical.

You said to me, "I don't know what your deal is, but you can't stay here."

Up to that point, I was working on how I would fit as a piece in this new world Peppino created. I figured-- the easiest thing to do-- was what I formed to do in the first place. Mimicry was safe. Mimicry was all I knew.

So I picked up on his habits-- his daily routines, his day at work. My prior makeup has allowed me to keep up, cooking wise, and knew I could seek refuge in the place I was named for. It worked at the Tower all those ages ago, after all.

That night behind the Parlor was difficult. I repeated back at him, ",ereh yats t'nac uoy tub ,si laed ruoy tahw wonk t'nod I"-- I felt the burst of emotion from him that came after that. Not anger-- fear.

We fought. Violently.

Eventually Peppino tired himself out, and he stopped. So I stopped. He was out of breath, so was I. He was snarling in fright. So was I.

We sat and stared at each-other for an hour. I breathed, stared, sat and moved as he did. Peppino noticed. He'd lift a hand, I'd lift one. He'd stand up, I'd stand up. He'd cower back, I'd cower back. And so on.

That's about the part when I realized how much more simple this was. So I experimented a bit. Moved around, see what Fake-me would do, and see how uncanny-but-accurate he could get. It weirded me the hell out, seeing it so close. So...

Docile.

Sure, he'd hang out in the background, copying me from afar, but we'd never really... interacted face to face for such a long period of time. Now that everyone was sorta gone, this was kinda... the moment. To get to know it more.

So I kinda broke down. To my embarrassment, so did Fake-me. Just as ugly, gross, and pathetic of a crier as I am. After that, we sorta made up.

First off, I didn't know Fake-me could speak. Mumbles and backwards, repeating me here and there, but... Actual genuine conversation? It scared the shit out of me. In the silence, it asked, "Where do we go," and I didn't have an answer.

This fucker disarmed me with that sentence. I kinda realized this whole time I was scared of stuff going back to... the ghost-town that I'm used to. And I wouldn't really have anyone around.

I asked its name. It replied, "Onipepp". My name backwards, of course. "Onipepp?" I repeated back, and it nodded. "...Oni. Like a demon. I'll call you Oni from now on." He liked that.

And from there... Uh, sheesh, we've gone on for a while. Anything to add?

You offered me a job. "Since Gustavo and Brick opened their own place," you said. "They're competition now. I'll need the help."

I went through training. He was impressed with my previous skills, often showing a bit of fear or insecurity. That eventually went away.

I'd spend days with Peppino. At night, I'd linger in the rafters, as I always would. I'd chase off all sorts of threats to the Parlor he wouldn't even think about. But I would never follow him home.

I didn't know where he lived, or what was considered his home. I've always lived in the places I form for. I never questioned it.

I keep to myself, but sometimes Peppino would ask me things. "Do you get lonely in here?" "Do you eat? Sleep? Do you need anything?" I'd always respond "I don't know."

A big storm happened, and wrecked the roof of the Parlor. Construction had to happen. It got cold, it got wet, it was noisy. I followed him home that night.

He didn't stop me, like I thought he would. Not a word was said. I was let inside, I looked around, and he says, "Make yourself at home". The phrase confused me.

Regardless-- I'm welcome here now, whenever I want.

Uh-huh. Been a wild few months for you. But you've managed pretty damn well, I gotta say.

(...you have too.)

[seeingivy]

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

--

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all. 

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking. 

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him? 

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners. 

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren. 

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes. 

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood? 

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him. 

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands. 

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.  

“Figures. D’you ever win?” 

“Win what?” 

“The pizza party.” 

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state. 

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place? 

“What if there was an even number?” 

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state. 

“Very on brand.” 

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake. 

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state. 

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side? 

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it. 

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask. 

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs. 

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together? 

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.” 

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter. 

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically. 

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds. 

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.” 

Eren’s going to kill Jean. 

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds. 

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile. 

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that. 

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks. 

You can’t help but laugh. 

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?” 

“It was two days!” Eren whines. 

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion. 

“Eremika…” you state. 

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off. 

“Shut up.” Eren states. 

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk. 

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?” 

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?” 

Eren scoffs. 

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases. 

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.” 

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes. 

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper. 

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods. 

“Down to my very core.” you respond. 

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths. 

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you? 

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states. 

“Two days of hopeless pining.” 

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.” 

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning. 

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states. 

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict. 

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other. 

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.” 

--

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row. 

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.  

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you. 

“For?” you ask. 

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.” 

You smile. 

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands. 

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states. 

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer. 

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans. 

You roll your eyes. 

“I think it’s sweet.” 

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him. 

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it. 

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.” 

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it. 

He’s always the exception to your rule. 

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper. 

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder. 

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light. 

“Hi.” she states. 

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper. 

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper. 

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states. 

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile. 

“My name’s Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?” 

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine. 

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.” 

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind. 

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips. 

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them. 

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?” 

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching. 

“That’s right.” 

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state. 

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock. 

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can. 

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly. 

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask. 

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh. You…you want a hug?” 

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone. 

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes. 

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile. 

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.” 

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you. 

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show. 

--

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it. 

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell. 

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren. 

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.  

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state. 

“This shit is overrated.” 

You smile. 

“You’re lying.” you state. 

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours. 

“I am lying.” Sukuna states. 

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper. 

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.” 

“Is that right?” 

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.” 

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask. 

Sukuna scoffs. 

“Basically.” he responds. 

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks. 

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask. 

“Probably not.” 

“Proceed.” you respond. 

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting. 

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond. 

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.” 

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.” 

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand. 

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything. 

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.” 

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss. 

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state. 

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.” 

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-” 

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side. 

“I broke his phone.” you state. 

“What?” 

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state. 

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”  

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth. 

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being. 

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”  

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard. 

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper. 

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers. 

You frown. 

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.” 

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together. 

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur. 

Sukuna pauses. 

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.” 

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?” 

“What won’t happen?” 

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.” 

“I don’t want him.” you whisper. 

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth. 

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states. 

“You’ve always had such a way with words.” 

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?” 

“Why would he want me?” 

“He just does. The same way you just do.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.” 

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did. 

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”  

You smile. 

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?” 

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds. 

--

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks. 

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second. 

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks. 

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur. 

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.” 

You frown. 

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.” 

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space. 

“Hey.” he whispers. 

“Hi.” 

“What’s wrong, Margaret?” 

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides. 

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.” 

“I know.” 

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify. 

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks. 

You sigh. 

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble. 

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?” 

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly. 

Eren pauses. 

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states. 

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer. 

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks. 

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand. 

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks. 

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.” 

“For what purpose?” 

You pause. 

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.” 

Eren’s caught off by the answer. 

“You’re what?” 

“What answer were you expecting?” 

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.” 

You frown. 

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.” 

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds. 

You smile. 

“You’ll help me?” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.” 

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.” 

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states. 

You nod. 

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond. 

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine. 

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies. 

You smile. 

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.” 

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it. 

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

You pale. 

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too. 

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m going to kill Falco.” 

“Colt.” Eren corrects. 

You scoff. 

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.” 

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds. 

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state. 

Eren pauses. 

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.” 

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod. 

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”  

You crack your knuckles. 

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.” 

Eren smiles. 

“You had every right to badmouth me.” 

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-” 

“We’ll finish it together.” 

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” 

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states. 

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you. 

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask. 

“No.” 

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.” 

--

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response. 

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?  

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention. 

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.” 

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa. 

“What did I miss?” 

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side. 

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states. 

“What?” 

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.” 

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue. 

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states. 

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state. 

“That was actually my idea.” 

“Oh. I didn’t mean-” 

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.” 

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound. 

“Are you done? Can I talk now?” 

You shove Eren. 

“Stop being rude.” 

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.” 

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states. 

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile. 

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states. 

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.” 

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile. 

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state. 

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.” 

“Eren.” 

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets. 

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.” 

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages. 

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight. 

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page. 

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest. 

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics. 

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod. 

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is. 

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state. 

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie. 

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends. 

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates. 

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead. 

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds. 

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air. 

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past. 

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip. 

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain. 

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states. 

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.” 

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends. 

“Really?” she asks. 

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N.” 

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state. 

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug. 

“Thank you. I love it.” 

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur. 

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states. 

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask. 

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state. 

“Okay.” 

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking. 

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile. 

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks. 

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.” 

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.” 

Mikasa smiles. 

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.” 

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask. 

Mikasa rolls her eyes. 

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway. 

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two. 

“What the fuck?” Jean asks. 

You smile at him. 

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond. 

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states. 

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states. 

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean. 

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door. 

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!! 

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting: 

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

--

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa. 

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles. 

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.” 

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?” 

“The opposite actually.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.  

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.  

“What?” 

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side. 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends. 

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.” 

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond. 

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds. 

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras. 

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.” 

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement. 

“Are you an idiot?” 

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.” 

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow. 

“Hi Nico.” 

“Hi Y/N.” 

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug. 

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?” 

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor. 

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew. 

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver. 

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts. 

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile. 

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes. 

“I see…” Gabi responds. 

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile. 

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.” 

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze. 

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts. 

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds. 

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.” 

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one. 

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face. 

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs. 

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states. 

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom. 

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you. 

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?” 

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.” 

“Eren, you little-” 

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states. 

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house. 

--

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench. 

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles. 

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on. 

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state. 

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up. 

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.” 

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers. 

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry 

Mikasa scoffs. 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side. 

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side. 

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement. 

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile. 

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states. 

“You know it.” 

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.” 

“The last verse. You have to change it.” 

“What? Why?” you ask. 

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?” 

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection. 

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise. 

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

--

--

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejgg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-morii @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv @cowgirlikets @dreamxiing @mamamammarga @tangerine-neonlight

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[the-haunted-office]

Thursday feels very at-ease here in the Office as she leads the way to the fourth floor employee lounge. Smiling, she says, "Thanks! I made most of the renovations around here. I mean, I came up with most of the changes myself, but I had help putting them all in place, ahaha. It used to be a lot more drab and depressing around here, as you can imagine. Of course." She scoffs and rolls her eyes, because of course all offices must best as depressing as possible for their employees.

"But, ah, yeah, it's all part of a long story, but after we got out of the Parable, I didn't like the way things looked around here, too depressing, so I got to work changing it. Thought it could use some livening up. Looks all right, eh? Some of the others worked on the other floors too. You'll get to see it all!"

As Thursday explains, they pass door after door after door, cubicle after cubicle after cubicle, with seemingly no end in sight to them. They pass through rooms that are connected to other rooms, all filled with desks and chairs and filing cabinets, labeled with numbers and all of them with the distinct feeling of being... watched. If Artair were to look up, he'd see intermittently placed black bubble-like objects placed along the ceiling, mostly in corners. These denote where cameras are, and it is through these that Cyrus monitors the Office from the safety of the control booth.

The ghosts around the Office may be watching him as well, although they are remaining out of sight, currently.

The one other being who is currently observing him - or, rather, who has just caught on to his presence - suddenly speaks up, all at once, full of excitement, right as Thursday is about to lead him into the lounge.

"Oh! Oy oy! A new guest! Thursday, you've brought a new guest? Why didn't you tell me? Hello! Hello there, new guest! What's that you've got there? Boxes? Oh, pizza! You guys sure do love that stuff, don't you? Tell you what, when you're done with it... go ahead and put those boxes down the trash compactor, will you? I'll take care of it, all right? But hello again! What's your name? Mine is Dorian."

While initially Artair had insisted on carrying the pizza, at her further pushing, he gave in. It was pointless to fight her on something so menial; it didn't really matter, and his experience was that it wasn't really worth it. If there was a boundary, it's fair to point it out and say no, but a small kind gesture was often someone's way of reaching out, and rejecting it enough shifted the tone of an conversation. Shutting it down often ended awkwardly or negatively, and carrying a pizza was certainly not anywhere near important enough to be stubborn about.

Inside, he can't help but be amused at the song playing. With the lobby the way it was, it kind of makes sense, though. If the lobby screamed 'this is supposed to be an office, so what are office things to fill the space with, so it feels office-y?' then this song was the same decision making mindset, but for elevators. He side-eyes Thursday as she speaks, before his gaze returns to the changing numbers at the top pane over the doors. "Oh yeah? I'm sure I will, too. I accept my whack-a-doodle title. I never had one of those pizzas, but I would try it for science, and I am known to be a little weird from time to time. I think we could make it work."

Artair does at least blink at the scenery change to something more--- playful. The paintings do still remind him of an office, since lots of them had those kinds of art pieces or something similar. Even the vases and plants weren't a stretch. The cubicles and other office paraphernalia was also commonplace and standard fare.

But that's where the similarities end. The countless doors and the arcade carpet and-- very not run of the mill color scheme kind of made him think of someone else, though he shakes the thought away. This was like an office, but also one that'd been hybridized with something zany to boost morale or something. Or perhaps it was just the others' own personal touch onto the space they lived in, to make it feel less like an office? Less soul-crushing grey?

...Or maybe everything he'd seen had been a choice of the office itself? To make itself accommodating to those who lived inside and to be office-like, but with its own little touches. Especially if what it knew of offices was nebulous enough that it only had a vague approximation. That seemed just as feasible as the rest.

"It's very colorful." Artair comments, trotting in line behind Thursday and still looking around. "If I had to choose an office to work in, this one would at least make the top five. The carpeting helps really make the place feel welcoming."

[tatooedlaura-blog]

The Secret Vault of Mudlerness

The fourth series reads as follows:

Apple Balancing ... Potential ... The Newbies ... The Dessert ... Dinosaurs and Cannibalism ... Sassy Sprinklepants

To catch up: First series … Second series ...  Third series

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He wasn’t sure how he felt about giving the untested duo of Doggett and Harrison a set of keys to his office and complete access to his sacred space containing file cabinet, slide projector and perfectly proportioned to his ass desk chair. He wouldn’t be there to shut down arguments veering in wrong directions, he wouldn’t be there to explain, in exquisite detail, the evolution of Big Foot and Sasquatch, he wouldn’t be there to keep their sticky paws off his stuff.

Wow, his thoughts spiraled a lot faster than he expected, and shaking his head to clear the nonsense as he gathered up his coat and wallet, he thanked that formless god out there in the universe that no one but him would ever know what went through his mind the last three minutes … except for Scully ‘cause try as he might, he’d spill the beans about his mental relapse the moment he walked through the front door and she said the magical words of ‘hey there.’

He was so completely under her spell it would have been pathetic on anyone but him.

Handing over the keys, he told them not to burn shit down then headed out for his week of beach life, Scully, Will and seven Scully monikered rugrats in tow.

&&&&&&&&

“Kids, we have a mission.”

Sam and Matt looked at each other, excitement building given any kind of mission from Mulder usually turned out to be fairly messy, fairly fun, and fairly entertaining when he got in trouble with Aunt Dana once she found out about the mission, “are you going to get busted by Aunt Dana for the mission, Uncle Mudler?”

“One can only hope, Samuel.”

Speaking for everyone present and one un-present Betsy, who was in the bathroom, “we’re in.”

The mission turned out to be one of many that week. This one in particular was to simply get Aunt Dana to say ‘Good Lord and sweet baby Jesus’ five times. It took Jake two hours before he triumphantly raised his hands in victory even before Scully could let the last syllable fall from her lips, “Uncle Mudler! Mission accomplished!”

Scully got a large chocolate milkshake for her troubles.

The rest of the week was peppered with shouts of ‘Mission Accomplished’ or in Toby and Betsy’s case, “Mission Accompissed.”

Scully was amused for the most part because she never knew what was coming and why but it always made her smile once she found out.

“Mulder, where are you getting this stuff from?”

“The secret vault of Mudlerness.”

She simply smiled and took Betsy by the hand, “come on, small fry, let’s go see how big of a castle we can build before your cousin wakes up.”

Slapping his hands together, Mulder looked at the older kids, “and I think we should see who can slide farthest up the beach after wakeboarding in.”

Needless to say, the children creamed the adult amongst them, hands down, given Mulder was heavy enough to skid to a stop while the kids skimmed nearly to Scully every time.

&&&&&&&&

Then the rains came.

And Scully took over.

“We are going shopping. Everyone in the cars.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wal-mart. We need some games in this place so everybody gets one pick and then we come back here and play them until we need to eat.”

“Can we make pizzas?”

“Can we make cupcakes?”

“Can we make bananas?” Scully looked at Toby when he suggested that one and he shrugged, “I want a banana.”

Mulder ruffled his hair, “we’ll get you some bananas.”

Everyone found a game, Mulder found three, Scully found two and when she realized she picked out the same ones as Hannah, she high-fived her niece, “great minds, Hannah, great minds.”

“Totally, Aunt Dana.”

Groceries shopped for, bananas purchased, they headed home, the day and evening filled with several arguments, one rain-filled beach walk, two tremendous thunderstorms complete with near constant lightning and winds that created waves big enough to swallow all of them up and through Uncle Mudler whole without leaving a trace. Will slept through it all, the rest of them settled eventually, the ocean still churning, the sound carrying in the open windows, lulling even the most restless among them to dreamland.

Mulder nudged Scully and quietly rotated on the bed, swapping head for feet so he could stare down at the seven kids, spread eagle all over a bevy of air mattresses on the floor, sleeping bags strewn accordingly. Scully followed, relishing still in her newfound ability to lay on her stomach after an 11-month hiatus, “what are we doing?”

Her whisper tickled the small hairs by his ears and he grinned, fighting the urge to swat at a non-existent bug, “we are contemplating the family tree.”

“What are we contemplating about the family tree?”

“How we should probably add on to this place to accommodate said family tree. They can’t sleep on our bedroom floor forever.” Rolling to his side to nibble lightly on her ear, “I’d like you to myself every once in awhile.”

Matt’s voice rose from the floor, “dude, we’re trying to sleep here. If you want to make out, go outside, would you?”

Mulder flew away from her on instinct and rolled right off the side of the bed, landing beside Hannah, who only woke because her air mattress shifted, “Uncle Mudler?”

“Go back to sleep, Han, I just fell out of bed.” Quickly kissing her forehead and watching her eyes drop closed immediately, he hauled himself back onto the mattress, amusingly scolding out into the darkness and his oldest nephew’s general direction, “we are not making out.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Mulder could hear the grin as he called back his own goodnight, then the squish-shift of body turning on air mattress. Meeting Scully’s dancing eyes, “he spends too much time with Dave.”

“We all spend too much time with Dave but none of us can figure out how to not spend too much time with Dave because we all love our Dave time.”

Moving his head close enough to kiss her cheek, “love you, wife.”

“Love you back, husband.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The following morning, Scully woke up to find everyone accounted for but Mulder. Shifting slowly, carefully, she grabbed the baby monitor, turned it on and ventured forth, using the sure step of someone who picked her way through body parts daily, silent thanking prayer to the man upstairs that these were all attached to living, breathing beings and not in a warehouse basement in Tucson like the last time. Wood planks smooth beneath her feet, she saw Mulder’s silhouette through the back door, sun just beginning to debate coming up, sky the lightest shade of night before giving into day. Traversing three rugs and a wayward pile of flipflops, she slid the screen open and settled herself in beside him, bumping his arm gently, “morning.”

He didn’t meet her rolling shoulder, or gravel-y, half-awake quiet word, instead waving the phone in his hand slightly, pointing it towards the water, knuckles white around black plastic, “when am I going to learn not to answer the phone.”

This did not bode well and reaching under his elbow, she wrapped fingers lightly around his wrist, “probably never. What happened? Was it Skinner?”

“Yeah, apparently Doggett and Harrison, am I allowed to call them Bud and Lou or would that be wrong at this stage of the game, I don’t know but regardless, Doggett and Harrison somehow got caught underground, dealt with some kind of venomous lizard/snake hybrid thing, came up temporarily blinded, and are now both in the hospital recovering.”

Scully snorted. She hadn’t meant to but snort she did, giggling into his shoulder for a moment before getting her breath back, “my God, you really did manage to find Mulder and Scully 2.0, didn’t you?”

“Skinner is going to quit, I swear. He’s going to talk to them and go through that final report and he’s just gonna …” grinning out towards the water, Mulder shook his head, “holy hell, Scully, he may just say ‘fuck it’, sweep his desk clean, flip off his J. Edgar Hoover picture and storm out, demanding a God-damned latte on his way out the door.”

Staring for half a second forward, she waggled her head back and forth a few times, then raised an eyebrow at her clarifying mental picture of descriptive storm-out, “I’d kind of like to see that actually.”

Before he could answer back that he’d pay $100 minimum to see it, the murmur of waking children and one pre-whimpering baby floated through the monitor sitting on the step beside her. Mulder, fully awake and ready to spend their last day at the beach being the unequivocal leader of ragtag misfit sandcastle builders and boogie boarders, stood to take care of diaper changing and tooth brushing, “want to start breakfast? We’ll be down to help in a few.”

Standing as well, “chocolate chip pancakes or strawberry waffles?”

“Yes.”

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, “wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: implied fem masturbation, slightly dub-con at the end (kissing) but reader is very enthusiastic. WC: 3,339

It was an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. It was early and the eighth floor was just beginning to fill up. You had already been in the office for well over two hours, working on a motion and you were already running against the clock. As people milled about, settling in, you grabbed your noise canceling headphones and slipped them on over your ears. 

You frowned when you realized your coffee cup was empty. You were in need for more coffee but did not have the time for it. As you let out an irritated sigh, you noticed the head of the junior ADA department, Sonny Carisi, stride in. As he passed by your desk, a brown paper bag plopped onto the desk. You slipped off your headphones and swiveled around.

“And what is this, Dominick?” You teased, as you reached into the bag.

“Bear-claw. Coffee - light and sweet.” Sonny called out as he settled into his office.

“God bless ya’ Sonny. You answered my prayers.” You called out, before blowing on the cup. It was so hot, steam rose from the small opening and the heat pricked your fingers. “How did you know?”

“A little birdie named Marjorie.” He replied. He stuck his head out the door. “She told me you were coming in early and if I recall anything from our Fordham days, it’s that you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re under the wire.”

You gave him a pointed look, which then softened into a smile. “Thank you, Sonny. Much appreciated. And when you win that Mickey Davis case, I am going to take you out for a celebratory drink.”

“Don’t start, we don’t even know what will happen. He may plead out.” Sonny replied. “I gotta go - meeting with the boss actually on this. Get back to work.”

“Yes sir!” You mocked saluted, before swiveling back to your computer. Time was ticking after all. 

**

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur. Again, nothing extraordinary happened. And as you electronically filed your motion, you spun around in your seat, with your arms in the air, in silent victory. 

As you faced your desk, you saw Sonny walking back down to his office with a very handsome, distinguished looking man behind him. It was clear the two of them were having some kind of heated discussion. And you couldn’t care less. Because the man he was with, was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He wore dark jeans and blue and pink checkered shirt with a dark grey peacoat. His hair was perfectly coiffed, nary a hair out of place. And he had a meticulously groomed beard. His hair and his beard were dark, with salt and pepper flicked through. You had a sudden urge to tug on his beard and you wondered what it would feel like against your skin, as you slid your tongue into his. 

The man sauntered past your desk and you looked up, feeling a flutter shoot through you as your eyes met. You caught a whiff of the cologne he wore - faint whiffs of vetiver and bergamot - and you closed your eyes, enjoying the olfactory overload. You so badly wanted to turn around, but you could not. So you settled for leaning to the side in an attempt to eavesdrop.

“You know who that is, right?” You jumped in your seat slightly and looked up at Marjorie, your co-worker, and fellow ADA.

“No. But he is nice to the eyes.” You smirked. 

“That’s Rafael Barba.” Marjorie hissed. 

You sat up straight. “That’s him? The Rafael Barba?” You scanned the office and sure enough, people were whispering and talking to each other as they looked behind you. 

You couldn’t hear everything, but you could glean whatever they were talking about was not regular old shop talk. 

You heard something about a ‘nice view’ and ‘had to move the Xerox machine and four filing cabinets just to get the desk in,’ and you snorted. 

“Yeah, the one who k-worded a baby,” Marjorie continued, as she sat on the corner of your desk. She ripped off a remnant of your long-forgotten bear claw and popped it in her mouth. 

“He did not k-word a baby.” It was now your turn to hiss. “That baby was already dead. He… expedited its passing.”

“Well, regardless. No one has seen him since then. Last I heard he was working with The Innocence Project,” Marjorie replied, plucking another piece of the bear-claw.

The door swung open, Rafael turning to face Sonny. “I'm going for straight-up not guilty.” Rafael stormed past you, once more, a breeze blowing by as he did so - and with it, his cologne wafted once more and you felt the back of your neck prick. Arousal shot through you, starting between your thighs, but rising to make your breath hitch. 

Marjorie hopped off your desk and dashed into Sonny’s office. You stood to do so, as Rafael as he stalked by. Your eyes met once more.

“Good morning,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You felt your cheeks burn and you gave him a small smile, before following Marjorie.

**

Lunch had rolled around. You rapped on Sonny’s door. “Hey - want to grab lunch with Marj and I?”

“Nah, can’t. Barba’s taking the Mickey Davis case on and I need to prep,” Sonny replied. He sighed before dropping his head into his hands, groaning.

You shut the door quickly behind you and moved to lower the blinds in his office. “Hey - talk to me. Barba was your mentor, right?”

Sonny looked up at you and nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the best ADA here - I mean, he took on cases others dodged. He taught me so much. And now… it’s like jedi master and padawan here.”

You grimaced. “Sonny, don’t sell yourself short. You are an excellent lawyer and you’ve got the chops. If anything, he should be the one who’s worried.” 

Sonny guffawed in response. “Don’t quit ya’ day job, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your brow. “Come on, pizza. On me. Let’s go.”

Sonny rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. But not Marco’s. That place is not real Italian.”

“Whatever, pizza snob.” You laughed as you both walked out. 

**

Time flew by. Sonny was at voire dire and you chewed on your thumbnail waiting for him to return. You decided to throw yourself into work in an attempt to keep your mind otherwise occupied. 

When Sonny did eventually return, he looked defeated and worn. He shuffled back into his office, his shoulders hunched over. You waited a good minute before knocking on his office. 

“How'd it go at voir dire?” You asked softly, as you knocked on his door. Sonny was chugging pepto-bismol and he grimaced as he turned to you. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“Yeah, the office mill said he was a dog with a bone.” You shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting.

Sonny laughed. “Yeah. Now get this - I'm looking at his witness list, and he tracked down AJ’s other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Sonny gave you a look. “Dollars to donuts, I think it’s my old squad - Rollins, Liv, and Fin helping him out.”

“You don’t know that.” You interjected.

“It's fine. Barba was here before me. I know where their loyalties are,” Sonny replied. 

“When's opening statements?” 

“A day from tomorrow.” Sonny replied. “Which means I will be here all night prepping.”

“Do you want any help?” You asked. 

“It’s fine - it’s late. You should go home. If there’s something, I’ll let you know.” 

You nodded and bid him a good night, before heading home.

** 

At home, you climbed into bed and tried to watch a repeat of your favorite procedural show but could not focus. You spent the entire commute home, replaying the events of earlier in the week when Rafael came by. He smelled so wonderful and when his eyes locked on yours, your heart skipped in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. Picturing his eyes… his beard… you became warm and a ripple of arousal coursed through you, causing the ache between your legs to intensify. You had a drawer full of toys that you knew you would help, but sometimes, your own fingers were best – you knew you better than any other toy could. You slipped your fingers down your sleep shorts and under the waistband of your underwear. It didn’t take much – as you suspected it would not – and when you came, it was Rafael’s name that escaped from your lips. The ache lessened – and, for now, it was enough.

**

Time flew and before you knew it, the case was winding up - or so you heard through the grapevine. That office leaked like a sieve. Your phone buzzed loudly one morning. You groaned and looked at the clock - you still had twenty minutes of sleep left. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes awake.

[Marjorie: Come meet us at court - closing arguments on the Davis case and we are all going down to root for Sonny]

You quickly wrote back: who’s we?

[Marjorie: A few of us from 8th. Come on!]

You bit your bottom lip and then hit two little letters: ok. You quickly showered, threw on your pants and an oversized sweater. You grabbed a pair of wedges and made your way uptown.

**

The case was intense and heated. Emotions were rising. You fidgeted in your seat as Sonny faced off with Rafael. In the end, the jury deliberated in six hours and found Mickey Davis guilty. He was charged with manslaughter two.

Sonny caught up with the group from the eighth floor in the gallery who all congratulated him on his big win. You half-listened and half kept an eye on Rafael, who was busy gathering his paperwork. He looked handsome in his black bespoke suit, now cleanly shaven.  You frowned - the beard suited him. But it didn’t temper his handsomeness; with or without, it was as if he made your eyes burn. It also appeared to have turned him into a real-life Benjamin Button, so to speak. He appeared much younger than he did when he did that day in One Hogan Place.

Rafael turned again, and his eyes scanned the group in the back before his eyes settled on yours once more. You ducked your head, feeling embarrassed at having been caught and when you looked up at him, a smile had graced his face.

He began to head your way, tucking his briefcase under his arm. Your heart began to race and your palms were sweaty. You wracked your brain for a reason to leave but couldn’t come up with anything. And then Rafael was in front of you.

“Hi - you’re Carisi’s colleague?” Rafael asked as you were now afforded a close-up view. His eyes were the most intense seafoam green and you knew if allowed, you would drown in them. 

“Uh - yes. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a junior ADA.” You tripped over your words, feeling your cheeks burn. What was it about this man that renders me into a bumbling fool? you thought.

“Rafael Barba.” Rafael extended his hand and you took it, shaking it.

“Pleasure.”

“No, that’s all mine.” His eyes crinkled and a small smile graced his face. You felt your cheeks burn once more.

Sonny turned away from the group and faced you and Rafael. “We’re going to Rudy’s for a beer. Want to come? The squad is going to come.”

Rafael opened his mouth and paused, looking over at you. Feeling put on the spot, you nodded, going along. “Sure - a beer would be great.” You then turned to look at Rafael. “Coming with?”

Rafael nodded - wanting nothing more than to spend time with you - this creature who had enchanted him. He had to admit, he had hoped to see you more - but in his head, that meant an impromptu visit to the DA’s office, where he wasn’t necessarily well received any longer. Or, it meant asking Carisi - and he didn’t want to be grilled by the former detective. You were young - younger than him of course, but he couldn’t imagine you were that much younger - and at the same time he did not want to seem like a cradle robbing perv. The group dispersed outside, braving the elements of New York City. It was biting cold - the coldest day of the year - and the wind whipped around something wicked. You rubbed your gloved hands together as you all headed to Rudy’s. You and Rafael hung back, following the group, but at the same time, both knowing the route, having made the trek many times prior. 

“So how long have you been with the DA’s office?” Rafael asked. Small, misty clouds emitted from your breaths as you chit-chatted. 

“Two years. I was originally in Brooklyn, but I requested a lateral move.” You replied. 

“That’s where I started too.” Rafael replied. A taxicab approached and Rafael waved his hand up and across from you, signaling to the car to slow down so that you two could cross. You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your back gently as you both crossed the street to the bar. Yout stomach flip-flopped in response.

**

The bar was empty, save for the group. Large colorful bulbs hung throughout, keeping in theme with the upcoming holiday. At the hightops, each table was outfitted with a miniature wreath with a candle in the middle. After a while, the squad from SVU also joined and everyone toasted Sonny on his victory. The corners of your lips twitched as Rafael said “To irony,” at Sonny’s response that they were just back where they started.

Rafael was engrossed in a conversation with Sonny’s former squad, and you watched him intently. You played with your napkin and wondered more about him and who he was. Sure, you had heard about the Householder case and how the prosecutor was acquitted - and sure, you had read some of his court briefs. But you had never thought in a million years that you would be so close to him. Many other former ADAs came to visit, but Rafael Barba never did. He had essentially dodged the office for years. You didn’t hear much of him, only in passing from Sonny while you were both in Fordham.

Hours went by, many drinks had been had. One by one, the group had dispersed, until it was just you, Sonny, Amanda, and Rafael. You all decided to move to a booth. You were slightly unsteady, having had too many glasses of wine and very little to eat. You knew in the morning you would be paying the price.

“Water for Y/N and fries for the table.” Amanda announced as she slid the food to the middle of the table, and the water towards you. 

You plucked a fry from the table and tried to focus on what Amanda was talking about. Sonny made a quip and everyone laughed. You used the opportunity to sneak another glance towards Rafael. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his well defined forearms. A sole finger traced the rim of his lowball glass, which was half-full. Your eyes were drawn to the Rolex on his wrist and you noticed the time.

“Oh, it’s late - I should get going,” you remarked, as you pulled Rafael’s arm close to your face, looking at the time more closely. “Sorry,” you murmur, releasing his arm. You stand and wobble once more, and Rafael stands, catching you. 

“Good idea; it is late,” Rafael replied. “Let me just close out the tab.” Amanda and Sonny protested as they reached for their wallets and Rafael waved them off. 

“I can go home with you honey.” Amanda offered. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, you know better than that; someone should go with you.” Sonny replied. “Amanda and I can.”

“Sonny you’re all the way uptown - I am all the way downtown. It’ll be fine.” You argued as you put your coat on.

Rafael returned, placing his wallet on the table momentarily. “What’s fine?”

“Me. Going home solo,” you replied. “But Amanda and Sonny think--”

“That you had too much to drink.” Sonny cut you off. “It’s not safe.”

“Sonny.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and you found yourself growing more impatient. “I am a big girl - I will send you a text when I get home.”

“Where’s home?” Rafael asked curiously. 

“Brooklyn.” Sonny and you replied at the same time.

“Sonny’s right - someone should take you home.” Rafael countered. 

“What if Barba takes you home?” Amanda asked, as she slipped her hat on. “Barba lives downtown - you don’t mind, do you counselor?”

“Not at all.” Rafael replied. “If that’s okay with Y/N.”

You sucked your bottom lip in. “Okay; Barba wins.”

“Great. Barba takes Y/N home and I’ll head up with Amanda,” Sonny declared.

**

The cab hadn’t even been going for ten minutes when Rafael found you asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to move you - lest you lean on the glass and knock your head if the cab hit a pothole. He watched as the city blurred past him, a mix of lights and colors. You let out a small moan and snuggled closer to Rafael. Rafael threw his head back, resting against the headrest and let out a sigh.

The trip to Brooklyn was uneventful as there was little traffic and soon the cab pulled up outside the brownstone that was home to you. He nudged you softly, stirring you awake. 

“We’re at your place.” He murmured and you smiled sleepily at him.

“Walk me to my door?” You asked, stifling a small yawn. Rafael nodded and requested the cab to keep the meter running. You grabbed your keys to unlock the door and turned to face him. You thanked him for going out of his way to accompany you home and Rafael gave you a small nod, telling you it was no big deal - better to be safe. He licked his lips and you felt a rush of bravery course through you - you’d later realize that was the alcohol - and did what was, up until then, a figment of your imagination.

You curled your fingers into his hair, since he was sans beard, and pulled him in for a kiss. Rafael was initially taken aback, freezing in place, but then he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into your mouth.  His strong arms, closed around your back and pulled you tightly against him. You continued kissing for what seemed like eternity, but was only mere moments, when Rafael pulled away. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. “You’re drunk. You can’t consent. I should not have done that.” He took a step back, regret was etched on his face.

Your face burned with embarrassment. “It’s fine. I … should go. Good night, Rafael.” You mumbled before unlocking the door and darting inside, not bothering to look back. 

Rafael groaned, rubbing his hands with his face. It felt so wonderful to kiss you - but it was under all the wrong circumstances. He headed back to the cab and went home, replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, as if it were an endless loop. 

He knew what he had to do. 

Imagine your surprise when the following morning, when you headed into the office to put in some overtime, there was an email from one formerly disgraced ADA in your mailbox - asking you out for dinner.

You took a large drag of your coffee and then hit reply. 

TBC.

***

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[promisedneverwrite]

Until Dawn

A Vamp! Poppy and Werewolf Bea fic

A retelling of Queen B with added story plots

A/n: Thank you to the people who took a look at my writing. Not gonna lie I have most of this fic written out already, like 81K, and ongoing cause the brain rot was real strong when this book came out. Sorry it took so long. :’D

If you wanna be tagged just lmk

Tag list: @somewillwin  

Masterlist

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Chapter II

“You took your sweet time getting here.” A small smirk planted itself on the girl's face as she leaned on one leg, her arms crossed. Bea gulped when the girl crooked her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion to enter. Bea cautiously shuffled in closing the door behind her with her foot, her bags still under her arms. 

“Am I in trouble?” The girl’s smirk remained as she quickly turned to their shared common space, going through the cabinets in the kitchen and pulling two champagne glasses. Bea set her bags down by the floor and followed her to sit on one of the island chairs, taking in the interior before landing on her roommate who turned to place the glasses in front of her on the counter popping the bottle open. 

“Au contraire my dear, you just survived the rabid mob looking for you earlier today. Good job.” Bea took the offered glass with a small thanks. Bea swirled the drink before downing it like a shot. Zoey’s eyes widened and she laughed. 

“Oh you’re fun. I’m Zoey Wade, I think this years going to be the best yet.” Bea chuckled and raised her glass, which Zoey topped up again.

“Bea Hughes, and I hope you’re right. I came here earlier in the day but it seems like new people don’t really get a good rap here so I kinda hid.” Zoey nodded. 

“It’s understandable, it's a miracle no one found you. Where did you hide anyway?” Bea chuckled nervously.

“In a tree.” Zoey’s face scrunched between deep concern and amusement. 

“...for four hours.” Bea mumbled, taking a sip of her drink and looking away. Zoey pursed her lips and took a drink before setting her drink down and smiling.

“We’ll unpack that on a later date. For now, let’s just unpack those instead.” Zoey pointed to her two bags when Bea’s stomach rumbled like a dying whale. Bea blushed at the slightly horrified and surprised face Zoey had. “On second thought, let’s get that monster fed.”

“Yes please.”

One large pizza later, Zoey sat her down on the couch telling her everything she needed to know. 

“Good. So any questions?” Bea hums scratching her chin then looks at Zoey seriously. Zoey straightens up and waits.

“How’s the food here?” There’s a pause then Zoey laughs then looks at Bea who was still looking at her seriously but a small smile on her face. 

“Oh you were serious. Girl, you made me worried. Cafeteria is good, but a little variety outside campus is always a good choice. I recommend Spicey’s, great place.” Bea filed that place for later. 

“Oh good, I was worried all you guys ate was like caviar and pate.” Zoey waved her hand laughing.

“No no it’s pretty much buffett-esque and 24 hours.” Bea filled that as the most important info.

“Sweet!” Bea would maybe visit later tonight to see what they had. 

“Anything else?” There was a distinct look in her eyes. Bea tried to decipher tilting her head a bit, kinda reminiscent of when you made a weird noise in front of your dog and they looked confused. 

“Uhm there was something about tea people were talking about when I was hiding out in that tree that was good?” Zoey laughed and Bea blushed, embarrassed that she may have interpreted it wrong. 

“Not the drink boo, The T’s basically the school’s gossip blog. But it’s so much more than that. What it says about you can make or break you. It can boost your rep, or it can destroy it… and you… and your entire future, basically.” 

“Oof wig.” But Bea’s face remained lax. Zoey grimaced like it was painfully hurting her then Bea wasn’t bothered but also amused at her perspective. Zoey took out her phone and handed it to Bea who scooched closer to look at it. 

“A warning, this isn’t pretty. Just like, steel yourself.” Bea hummed okay and looked through the blogpost. She scanned the texts, one making her brows furrow and chest clench at the mention of her deceased aunt before she moved on, easing the bit of anger that flared at the assumptions. She stopped at the culture shock bit and snickered. 

Zoey looked at her quizzically. 

“What?” 

“I watch too much garbage tv for fun, I know the lingo.” Zoey gave her a small amused look. “Well I know what tea means now! And English is English, so either I’m speaking a different language or someone else is.” Zoey laughed, the angelic noise making Bea smile. 

“I’m gonna enjoy being roommates with you.” Bea grinned.

“Same here!” Zoey motioned once again to the phone scrolling through the posts and comments. 

“But this is what happens when you show up at Belvoire out of nowhere. Don’t think we’ll ever find out who wrote this, though.” Bea was intrigued, no one could remain anonymous for long, not to Bea. Though they do have the upperhand in being online, Bea couldn’t sniff them out there. “The T runs on student submissions and because most people are total spineless cowards, they submit anonymously. It might be the school's trashy gossip blog but the fools around here treat it like CNN. And girl, you just made primetime. Especially because people think you were a no show.” 

“I just came here to have a good time, and honestly I’m feeling attacked right now.” Bea held a hand to her chest as Zoey rolled her eyes amused. Bea winked, giving her finger guns.

 “I’ll explain more, but we have class tomorrow and you need sleep. Tomorrow is a big day, and you are going to need it.” Bea nodded, but she knew she would be staying up a bit, sleep never really came easy with beast blood. 

Zoey papped both her hands on Bea’s cheeks which made it squish. Bea let it happen just to see the amusement on Zoey’s face.

“Anyway, as much as I’d love to talk more about your epic battle with the squirrels around campus, I have to sleep.”

“Kay, night Zo.” 

“Don’t stay up too late.” 

Well, safe to say she couldn’t really be held liable for not answering Zoey’s last comment. 

“You filthy mongrel! Who do you think you are!”

Next

[dreamerhideout]

i love you so

summary: after recovering from a messy break-up with your high school sweetheart, you’d never expect to find happiness in someone who bumped into you on the subway. but that’s where jake sim comes in.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, office!au

characters: jake x reader, mentions of ex-boyfriend!jay

warnings: partially proofread, but besides that, none

word count: 1946

a/n: this was supposed to be an entry for the “and then we met” @enhypenwriters writing event, but i think i lost the muse for this a bit too fast (plus, school swamped me again.) i literally wanted to base it off this song by the walters until it dawned on me that it was a heartbreak song :/ hence i made a few adjustments. i’m not quite sure if i’m fully satisfied with how this turned out, but i hope you still enjoy it~

more under the cut!

your heels clicked on the platform as you weaved your way through the crowd of people. it was a bustling monday morning, and waking up half an hour late was not how you expected to start your week. bingeing on this one political-drama show the night before began to feel like a regrettable choice, but there was no time to dwell on that when you see your train pulling up at the platform.

“oh damn, i’m so sorry.”

maybe it was because of how distracted you were from your surroundings that you hadn’t realized that someone bumped into you. as a result, you barely noticed that your coat had gotten stained from the coffee in their cup.

you gave them an apologetic smile, too rushed to get pissed. “no worries.” pausing for a second, you registered the culprit to be a man with a head of chocolate-brown hair and slightly frantic eyes before jogging towards the open subway cart door. once you got on the nearly-stuffed train, your eyes peered down towards your coat. sighing, you swiped at your coffee-stained coat with your finger; perhaps you’d be able to get it cleaned at the office later on if you weren’t getting your ear chewed off by your manager.

-

“we have a new employee joining us today.”

exiting the bathroom door with a slightly-scrubbed coat in hand, you heard your manager call out, then the chatter in the room subsiding. she was standing beside a man that you wouldn’t have vaguely remembered seeing before if it weren’t for the small smile he gave you.

“hi everyone, i’m jake sim. i’ll be working under the research department starting today. it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

you recognized that voice a little too well, then glancing at your dampened coat. who knew that the man you hastily bumped into this morning would be working at your office?

“jake will be occupying the desk next to (y/n)’s, and he’ll also be under my supervision as he’s still on trial for the next two weeks.” almost instantly, your manager turned towards you, who was still standing in front of the bathroom door.

“oh, yes,” you replied, eyes widening slightly. you went towards your cubicle and motioned to the empty desk beside you for jake to put his things, “over here.”

he walked over and placed a box filled with his belongings on top of the table, then unpacking. “well, i never thought i’d see you here,” he chuckled, “really sorry for what happened earlier, by the way.”

“eh, it’s no big deal.” you draped your coat over your chair for it to dry, “i managed to scrub off most of the stain, so it should be fine.”

“are you sure it isn’t ruined?” he turned to face you, slightly quirking an eyebrow.

you grinned in response, “positive."

jake had placed some stationery into a pencil holder before extending out a hand towards you. “i know i’ve introduced myself earlier.” he smiled rather awkwardly, “but for the sake of us being desk-mates, i’ll do it again. i’m jake.”

your hand met his for a quick shake, a knowing smile on your face. “(y/n). nice to meet you.”

-

if you were sure about one thing, it’d be that time flies by when you’re drowning in deadlines. the sun had already disappeared, yet you still sat hunched over your laptop, fingers typing away at a report due tomorrow assigned a few hours ago. you would have argued with your manager on the matter, but the glare she gave you as you were about to open your mouth was enough to make you shrink back into your seat.

out of habit, you grabbed your phone and unlocked it, expecting to see a message notification from jay, your boyfriend, who’d usually come to pick you up from work. when you didn’t receive one, however, it only dawned on you once again that you weren’t even with him anymore. he was the reason why your routine for the past few months had been working and binge-watching on repeat, with the occasional cry session if you were feeling really out of it. moving on after said breakup had been difficult, especially when it involved the very person who vowed to marry you on the day of your high school graduation.

“working overtime?”

you peered up from your head in your hands to see jake. he had pushed his chair back and was looking at you past the divider. it was way past office hours and you swore that you heard the last of your coworkers’ chatter out the door a few hours ago, but you must have been mistaken.

“yeah.” you gave him a grim smile, “some stupid report i was told to do today.”

“ouch,” he winced, closing his laptop. jake then studied your expression, picking up on how exhausted you looked. “tell you what.” he stood up and began slipping items into his backpack, “what if we went home together? maybe i could grab you something on the way back to make up for earlier.”

you looked up from your screen to see a cheeky smile on his lips. the offer did seem tempting, but you were ways away from actually completing the report. “oh that really isn’t necessary...” you threw him a small smile as you waved a hand rather dismissively, “i might be here for a long while, and i wouldn’t want to hold you back from going home.”

“i insist, (y/n).” jake zipped up his backpack after tossing in a file, “i wouldn’t mind waiting since i have nothing due tomorrow.” he then propped an elbow up on the divider, leaning on it as he carefully took note of the obvious strain on your eyes as well as how you had a slight pout on your lips when you were focused, “and besides... you kinda look like you could use some company.”

a small hum was heard from your mouth until you finally sighed in defeat; he definitely wasn’t wrong about company. “if you say so, then.” you stretched your arms, turning away from your screen, “maybe having you around will make me work faster?”

“how so?”

“you know how sometimes kids won’t work on their homework unless there’s an adult cowering over them like a hawk? yeah, that.” 

jake brought a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, which ended in him snorting instead. you could feel a smile creep up your lips.

-

the trip home was the most fun you’ve had in months. it didn’t occur to you that jake would be such an avid chatterbox, but you were sorely mistaken. he always had a conversation topic up his sleeve, whether it was about daily adult struggles to his childhood back in australia. you also noticed how he absolutely could not shut up about his beloved dog, layla; it’s a wonder how he had an entire album filled with hundreds of her pictures on his phone. slowly but surely, you also began juggling the conversation; it was as if you had reverted to your bright, happy self pre-breakup. talking with him really felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend, and it was only a matter of minutes until you had reached your apartment's front door.

jake had wanted to use your bathroom for a bit, but it ended with you suggesting for him to stay for dinner which consisted of microwaved pizza and sweet tea. you placed the pizza on the coffee table in front of the tv, then starting up the series you were bingeing on the other night.

“is that designated survivor?” jake sat on your sofa before grabbing a slice of pizza from the plate.

“mhm,” you replied, mouth stuffed. swallowing first, you then replied to him, “the synopsis made me curious.”

your remark was met with silence as you saw jake’s gazed fixed intently upon the screen. it wouldn’t have occurred to you that you’d be having a coworker (who was insanely attractive, nonetheless) over for dinner, but it didn’t bother you at all when jake made offhand comments about the characters and scenes of the series. it also occurred to you quite late that you hadn’t gotten napkins out for the both of you.

“hold on, lemme grab something.” you stood up and went towards your cabinets in search for napkins. jake’s attention broke from the screen to follow your figure before his gaze momentarily landed on a photo frame by the side of your sofa. it was a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, with his arm wrapped around you as you both smiled brightly for the camera.

“i didn’t know you had a boyfriend?” the man teased as he saw you walk back towards him, napkins in hand. your expression dropped when you realized that throughout the time you’ve been trying to mend your broken heart, you had forgotten to put away that photo.

“we broke up.”

guilt flashed across jake’s face as he realized he had overstepped. “oh wow, i’m sorry... i shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“it’s fine. i guess i must’ve forgotten to put that away.” you smiled at him and placed the napkins on the table before flipping the frame down. taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to focus on the show playing in front of you; you could feel bits of dread wallow in the bottom of your stomach.

there was a moment of awkward pause as neither of you knew what to say. just as you were about to ask jake to leave since you could feel dread clawing at your insides, he suddenly spoke up, “you’re... really strong, though.”

turning to face him, you stared at him quizzically, “really?”

“yeah.” jake could feel your eyes on him, “i mean, if it weren’t for me finding out, i would’ve never guessed that you were going through that.” he grabbed another piece of pizza before meeting your gaze, “you’re a great person, (y/n). i think you should know that. and if you’d need someone to talk to about him... although i don’t really know the guy, i’m all ears.”

the way he gave you a soft smile at the end made your heart slightly flutter. maybe it was because there was this very charming man consoling you on your last breakup, but it was more on the fact that you knew someone had your back in your times of healing. “thanks, jake.” you smiled back, feeling your heart lighten. “i appreciate it. a lot.”

jake felt his heart flip at the sight of your smile. it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you smile the entire day; it was a different kind as he could see some weight visibly lifted from you. you were pretty cute when you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the sides when you did, and he wondered how he hadn’t realized that sooner.

“uh... jake?” you waved a hand in front of his face to break him away from his stare. he quickly snapped out of his reverie, ears tinting a shade of pink.

“oh, yeah, sorry about that...” he murmured nervously, scratching the back of his head, “guess i got a bit distracted there?”

“i noticed.” you giggled in response, turning your attention back towards the tv. you saw how he stared at you after you spoke, eyes lost in a dream-like trance, and you felt your heart go fuzzy.

perhaps you were still healing, and you might need a little more time before jumping into something new. but rest assured, you knew that jake would be waiting on the other side no matter what.

[onippep]

RED'S GOT A REF NOW YIPEE

Transcription of text under cut

Right side:

"Blood Red"

Upgraded chef's garb

Wears a red tank instead when he doesn't want to dirty the apron

Middle:

Peppino "RED" Giampaolo Spaghetti

Skin

Eyes

Hairy AF

Lots of Stubble

Left side:

5"3'

50 years old (2023)

[bonkersdbobcat]

The office was incredibly small and unremarkable. While there were a few colourful items that betrayed this being the Toon Division of the precinct, the majority of the room might have come as a disappointment to whatever fun-filled fantasy one might imagine.

As soon as the generic filing cabinet jostled about from the 'officer's' activity, out popped Bonkers.

"Alright mister man, what's the big idea, huh?"

"Ope, sorry occifer. I ordered that pizza an hour ago and it's still not here! You haven't seen any rogue pepperoni and cheese wandering around here have you?"

bonkersdbobcat​:

“Young man of your fine taste? Nooo no no. Ever try the deli on 4th and Broadway? Softest bread this side of town, you know…”

The office, being in the basement and more than out-of-sight-out-of-mind to the majority of the building was empty. Well, empty save for the various files they had on apprehended toons, recovered toon goods, and one bobcat asleep in the filing cabinet filed under ‘C’ for catnap.

"4th and Broadway....hmm, I don't know if I have!" He has. He's a regular, when he's in the area, and everyone knows him by name-- fake name, of course. But Lupin's happy to humor Lucky.

All the while, even with dusty files down, down in the depths, someone has to check eventually. Maybe a normal officer no one's seen before. You'll forget his face immediately-- or a certain bobcat would if he were awake.

[hxneyandespressx]

since we’re alone, you can show me your heart

summary: what happens when derek gets a nightmare? the only one who can calm him down is his pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x derek morgan (moreid)

word count:  1.9k

content warnings: mentions of gun and shooting

a/n: set after criminal minds season 11 episode 11 entropy

☆。*。☆。

Spencer ran frantically around his dark and messy apartment, picking up the case files and Chinese takeout boxes that had piled up on his antique coffee table. Few peanut oil stains stuck onto the wooden top. The anxious man took the nearest napkin, hoping that it was clean, and tried his best to wipe off the oil stains. Seeing that they wouldn’t come off, Spencer exasperatedly dropped the napkin onto the table and rushed over to his kitchen, grabbing the necessary cleaning supplies. He got his bottle of white vinegar and water, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and an old rag underneath the kitchen sink.

By the time Spencer was done, every room in his apartment was clean to his standard. Not a book out of place, no dust lingering in the air. Spencer felt both scared and excited about having his co-workers come over to his place. He never had them over until today. He felt scared if a game, like truth or dare, made him confess his true feelings about his boyfriend.

Derek and Spencer had worked with each other for a long time. As the years went by, experiencing the highs and lows of being FBI agents together, the two of them felt their hearts yearn for each other, but neither of them acted upon it. They were scared of the possibility of rejection, tarnishing their friendship. It was not until Derek decided to break the ice and asked out Spencer. The young man was delighted to have his crush ask him out. It was the one thing that went right in his life.

Three months in and either of them hasn’t said “I love you” yet. Either of them was scared to frighten off the other. Saying “I love you” was a big commitment. They were trying to take things slow, not to rush each other, even though they had known each other for a long time.

The gang was heading over to Spencer’s for a little sleepover to relax as they hadn’t received any new cases within the past 2 weeks. It was nice to have a break from all the traveling and dealing with unsubs; however, it does get boring doing paperwork and in-office consultations for hours.

Spencer’s phone pinged multiple times and a bunch of text notifications came.

Hotch: Sorry, can’t make it. I couldn’t find a babysitter for Jack and Jessica is busy at work tonight. Maybe next time.

Tara: going out on the town with the ladies!

Penelope: sorry spencer but jj tara and i are having a ladies night :(

JJ: sorry spence! perhaps next time!

Rossi: Sorry kid. Forgot to tell you that I’m driving up to Montauk to visit a buddy of mine.

Spencer sighed and felt defeated. Everyone bailed on him at the last minute. Everyone except for Derek. That was fine with Spencer, as this could be a date night for them. Just then, the doorbell rang, indicating someone had arrived. Having a small smile on his face, Spencer scurried to the front door and opened it. It revealed one handsome Derek Morgan, who was holding a large pizza in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

“I saw in the group chat that everyone else bailed on this.” Derek said.

“Yeah but this could be a date night for us.” Spencer smiled at his little proposition. Derek smiled, showing off his brilliant pearly whites, as he entered the apartment.

The couple spent their night-in watching movies, eating pizza, and Spencer going off tangents on his passions. Whenever Spencer starts to rant about one of his passions, Derek just stared at his little genius and smiled at how happy his boyfriend was. And that continued all night long, Derek listening to Spencer talk about 19th-century British literature, coupled with watching random movies of various genres.

Nearing 1 am, the couple laid on the couch, with Spencer in Derek’s arms. The tv was playing Julie & Julia in the background. Spencer was half asleep and noticed that Derek was sleeping already. He gently wiggled out of Derek’s arms and stood up from the couch, scratching his scalp and messing up his already messy curly hair.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.” Spencer softly said, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. Derek woke up, feeling groggy. Spencer led the way to his room, holding Derek’s hand. They both flopped onto the bed and Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist. They were used to sharing a room together, even a bed due to mistakes occurring at the hotels they stayed at when they were on cases. Sleep washed over them as the golden dust of the Sandman worked its magic.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Standing across from Derek were Spencer and Cat Adams. The hitwoman had a gun pointed at one scared Spencer Reid. Internally, Derek was screaming. On the outside, he kept his cool and calm composure.

“Morgan, get out.” Spencer demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Derek said, his voice shaking a little.

“Hm… I guess we’re back where we started. You and me with a gun.” Cat said without a care in the world, keeping the gun aimed at Spencer.

“Reid, it’s time.”

“No.”

“We don’t have a choice. We have to do it,” Derek said. Spencer kept shaking his head no. “We found your father.” the unsub stood there in shock for a few seconds, before rage set inside of her.

“You’re lying. I don’t like men who lie. You men are all the same.” Cat said as she gauged the trigger on her gun. She shot Spencer in the head and without hesitation, Derek started to shoot at the unsub. Derek ran over to Spencer and held his dying love in his arms. He tried to keep him alive until the paramedics came. The last words Derek said was “I love you” before his boy wonder went limp.

Derek woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He heard himself breathing heavily and felt anxious from the nightmare he just had. The frightened man groggily rubbed his eyes to get rid of the Sandman’s dust. Leaning his back against the headboard, Derek stared at the wall across from him, concentrating his eyes on one spot. He hoped that this technique would help him fall back asleep. Alas, he was shaken up from the nightmare.

The dazed man anxiously searched for his phone, wondering how much time has passed. Fumbling through the grey sheets and trying not to wake up Spencer, Derek found his phone, turning on the touchscreen, the blue screen lit up brightly. 3:20 am. Derek took a deep breath and sighed, leaning his head back onto the headboard and looked over to see his baby-faced boyfriend fast asleep. A soft smile appeared on Derek’s face, reminding him of his reality: Spencer being his angel.

Feeling restless, Derek pushed the comforter off of himself and quietly got off of the bed. He opened the bedroom door and went to the bathroom that was down the hall. His hands turned on the faucet and cupped together to gather the running water. Derek splashed cold water onto his face, making him more alert and awake. His eyes caught the sight of his face in the mirror. Smile lines decorated his face, which contrasted the dark circles forming underneath his eyes. Derek sighed and made his way towards the kitchen.

Derek has come over to Spencer’s place many times before, so much so he knows the way around like the back of his hand. With ease, his muscular hand grabbed a tall glass, with an accompanying coaster, in one of the cabinets above. He filled the glass with water from the faucet below. Loud gulps could be heard as Derek drank the water, cool and fresh like he had found an oasis. Just as Derek gently placed the glass on the coaster, his ears caught the shuffling feet of a tired Spencer.

“Derek?” Spencer tiredly said. “What are you doing up?”

“Just needed some water, that is all.” Derek said his half truth-half lie. The young man shrugged and went towards the refrigerator.

Unknowingly, Derek started to tap his fingers against the dark grey laminate countertop. Spencer caught the sound with his ears and turned to face his boyfriend.

“Derek? Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you’re tapping your fingers across the countertop.” Spencer pointed out. When the tired genius mentioned the action, Derek immediately stopped, his eyes glancing at Spencer.

“We’re profilers, Derek. You can’t hide anything from me.” Spencer said, feeling concerned for his best friend. The mousy-haired man felt like a hypocrite after saying that to Derek. During the many years he worked with the handsome man in front of him, Spencer developed a crush on him. At first, it was just a silly little infatuation, but as time passed, it changed to being a crush. The young man was able to hide it well. That was until Derek reciprocated his feelings. That same crush turned into Spencer dating Derek. In these past few months, Spencer wanted to tell his angel of a boyfriend that he loved him, but he was scared that Derek would run away from him, just like everyone else in his life.

“Ha– you’re right, pretty Ricky,” Derek said in defeat, hanging his head low. Spencer came up behind Derek slowly, hesitant to show some affection to his probably scared boyfriend. He mustered up his own fears and gave Derek a hug from behind, and felt his boyfriend relaxing in his arms. The couple stood in silence for some time, savoring the unspoken quietness between them.

“Remember when you had to go in as bait for Cat Adams?” Derek asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh– yeah. Why are you asking?” Spencer responded, not getting the hint where the conversation was going.

“Two weeks since that case, I had these nightmares. I thought I could get through with it, but I can’t. My nightmare was about that. I dreamt that you were shot by Cat.” Derek explained.

“Derek…” Spencer felt shocked while his heart was breaking. He felt like he had to do something. But all he could do was sit and listen to his boyfriend get everything off his chest.

"I wish this is a nightmare that I could just wake up from... but it feels all real... and I hate every second of it. I felt like I was going to lose you when it actually happened,” Derek’s voice cracked a bit as tears pricked his deep brown eyes. “And I don’t want this to repeat. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” Spencer quietly said, caresses Derek’s cheek. “We will make sure she stays in prison, alright?” Derek brought Spencer in for a long embrace. The mousy-haired man wrapped his arms around his athletic boyfriend’s waist as he placed his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. The soft warmth coming off of Derek comforted Spencer, clashing with her cold pale skin.

“I just uh…” Derek said tiredly.

“Yeah.” Spencer replied, smiling softly. He knew in his heart that Derek said “I love you” to him.

“You know?”

“I know.”

taglist: @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @iconicc / @sunlightgalaxy / @pumpkin-stars / @hotchgans / @pen3mily / @hotchsbabygirl / @gravelyhumerus / @morcias / @notsosmexy / @cherrychris​ / @hqtchner / @girlbossjareau / @pagetsimp / @a-writers-ramblings / @morceid

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 4/?)

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a mechanical engineer, now a nurse for androids, who moved back to Detroit after the revolution to offer aid. After reconciling with an old friend, you became rather acquainted with his android partner.

Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥

The android shifted from low power mode to fully operational when he felt you stir from sleep. He tried not to stare when you sat up and stretched, your breasts on full display in the warm glow the morning light was casting through the window. You stood up and he eyed the contours of your back, the curves at your waist, the delicate bumps of your spine before you disappeared out of his line of sight.

You retreated into the bathroom for a few minutes before returning to the bed.

Connor already looked wide awake while you settled down in the sheets again, digging your palms into your eyes. It must have been nice to never be tired. When you stopped, you let out a very unladylike yawn.

"Change of plans," you uttered sleepily. "I'm just gonna lie here forever."

Connor watched, amused, as you settled back beneath the sheets, nuzzling your head into the pillow. Connor was sitting upright, but looking down at you with a sort of compliant expression, like he was fully prepared to let you have your way.

"The consequences on your health would be devastating," Connor replied simply.

You giggled into the pillow. "How are you gonna get me up?" you teased.

Connor eyed the blanket mischievously. The temperature in the air was a little colder than it was beneath the blankets. That would likely have you stirred from the bed.

With a feared squeak, you rolled away from him, wrapping yourself in the blanket and tearing it off his body. He didn't even flinch when the cold air hit him. He was still sitting upright, one leg bent, looking at you with a small smile, like he was trying not to laugh.

You eyed his nudity shamelessly for a second before looking up at his face.

"Hmm - I'm still in bed," you uttered defiantly like a spoiled child.

The android was prepared to keep playing this game with you. He could easily think of several strategies. He was programmed to be an expert negotiator, after all, and was pretty crafty with his methods; even after deviancy, he didn't let that piece of himself slip away.

But-

"Welcome, guest, Hank Anderson," the apartment's robotic attendant greeted someone.

Even you heard that, and your eyes met in a brief moment of panic.

Connor processed that thought for exactly 0.17 seconds and then bolted to his feet in a comedic fashion. He dug through one of his drawers for some lounge pants and hastily pulled them on before trotting into the kitchen to greet Hank.

Hank had a folder in his hand and was setting it on the kitchen counter just as Connor arrived.

"Hey. Wanted to get a head start on this one." Hank opened it up, exposing some digital crime scene photos. "The media is having a shitstorm about it and Fowler wants some feedback quick. Was gonna head straight to the crime-" Hank looked Connor up and down. "-scene."

Connor nodded, showing that he was listening.

"Did I interrupt something?" Hank asked, some tease to his tone. He crossed his arms and gave Connor an amused look.

"No," Connor replied, maybe a little too quickly, and shrugged his shoulders. "What makes you say that?"

"Your pants are on backwards..."

Connor looked down and, sure enough, a tag was sticking out of the hem and poking him in the belly.

"Shit," he scowled, looking away.

Hank chuckled lowly. "Well - well - someone has company. Sorry for interrupting. Need me to give you a moment? Wouldn't want the old geezer to ruin the mood."

"I-... doubt that would be the case," Connor said lowly, rubbing the back of his neck with his dominant hand. His keen hearing could pick up something that the older detective could not. He could hear the shuffling of fabric and footsteps on the floor in the other room and knew you'd be out here in a moment.

Hank's brow lifted and he eyed the android almost suspiciously. But, then, you came through the hallway, wearing proper clothes, hair brushed and pulled back. Hank's eyes shifted from Connor to you, and then back to Connor. He wheezed out a laugh.

"Coffee?" you suggested over Connor's shoulder with a smile.

You stepped into the kitchen, bare feet on the chilly wood floors, and pulled the carafe out from beneath the coffee maker to fill it with water.

With you out of sight, Hank shot Connor a grin. Connor caught the sight for a second before looking away to try to hide the smile he was really struggling to suppress.

"Go put on some real clothes, Cassanova," Hank teased, giving Connor a friendly smack on the back. Hank turned to face you as the android disappeared through the hallway.

"Cabinet left of the fridge," he stated, directing you to the coffee.

You opened the cabinet and eyed the bag. "Ooo. You didn't cheap out," you commented.

Hank chuckled. "Yeah well... Kinda passed out here several times while going over cases. Connor said I'm much more polite after some cups of coffee."

You snorted through your nose. "I don't doubt it..."

The mental image you were presented with was nice: of Connor and Hank sitting in his kitchen, a mountain of folders and paperwork spewed out on the counter while they discussed the evidence, argued over witness testimonies and statements given through interrogations. Hank would probably order a pizza, ignoring Connor's criticisms over the high calories and fat content, and down it all with coffee.

When Connor returned, you glanced at him in the corner of your eye before doing a double take, pivoting yourself fully to take a better look at him.

He was wearing a white T shirt with a long sleeved, black cargo jacket over it, the kind with pockets all over it. His dark jeans were flattering, hugging the right places while loose where necessary for movement. His detective badge was hanging at his waist by one of his belt straps. There was hardly anything special about the outfit; but, it did something to you.

Connor didn't seem to notice you admiring him, honing in on the case files.

"Old woman was murdered last night. I guess she was a big lawyer back in the day," Hank explained, taking a seat at the island. He paused when you brought him a mug, his eyes expressing his gratitude.

Hank continued, "she was being cared for by an android - even after the deviant uprising. First responders said he was sobbing all over the woman's body. Swears it wasn't him."

Connor nodded at Hank. "We should head straight to the crime scene."

You eyed the two boys curiously, feeling like they were able to read each other's suspicions without needing to be direct.

"After coffee," Hank uttered before lifting the mug to his face and taking a long sip. He didn't seem all at bothered by how hot it was; however, you were still blowing on your own cup.

Hank hummed thoughtfully as he set his mug down. "When we checked their financials, she had been to the clinic." Hank reached into the folder and scooped out a photo before his extending his arm towards you. You stepped closer and took the digital photo from his hand.

"Looks like she got him treated there last week. Does he look familiar?" Hank asked.

The photo was of a handsome, male android. His model was fairly popular; but, his situation was something that had stuck with you.

"Yeah, actually. I didn't treat him, but, I remember when he came in. He had an old human woman with him. One of our nurses was afraid he was being held hostage; but, he insisted he chose to stay with her - they were 'family'."

You handed the photo back to Hank, brow lowered as you tried to recall the encounter.

"It's possible we were wrong, but... It seemed genuine," you explained.

"The first responders said he was having a meltdown, crying about how he 'shouldn't have been gone so long'," Hank explained, tossing the photo back onto the folder.

Your eyes landed on Connor, who seemed to be lost in thought. What you couldn't see was that he was searching the internet for android-encrypted sites. Some androids were starting factions against humans who were resisting the equality laws. Websites only accessible through android interfaces were beginning to pop up: some harmless, just seeking out others for companionship, but some were vengeful, potentially violent. It was possible someone saw this woman as a target.

You chugged the rest of your coffee, set the mug in the sink, and trotted into the bedroom to retrieve your things and slip your shoes on. You returned to the kitchen with your bag slung over your shoulder and shot the two detectives a smile.

"I better get out of your hair," you explained, heading for the elevator.

"I can dri-" Connor began.

"You guys got a big case on your hands. Let me take a taxi," you interrupted him hastily, waving him down innocently with your palms up.

Connor was hot on your heels as he followed you to the elevator.

"I'm a big girl, Connor," you teased. "Don't worry about me."

The android looked embarrassed for a second. You wiped it away when you leaned in to give him a kiss. It lasted a little longer than it should have. But, it was hard to let go. Kisses didn't feel this good when you were a teenager.

"Any day, now, kids," Hank called gruffly from the kitchen.

You parted with a sputtering laugh. Connor grinned toothily.

"Duty calls," you uttered, stepping away from him.

He watched you enter the elevator. You stepped in and looked at Connor through the doorway. The android looked away and then suddenly jerked his head back. He practically sprinted over to the elevator and squeezed in before the doors closed.

You squeaked in surprise when he nearly collided with you.

"I - uhm-" Connor stuttered, fixing his posture. He reached for his tie. When his hands met his chest, he remembered he wasn't wearing one.

You looked up at him with doe eyes and a warm smile. Strangely, it made it harder for him to ask. He sputtered out a weird noise before smacking his mouth shut. You giggled and he relaxed.

"I wanted to ask - before you leave - uhm - I wanted to know if-" he stammered, pausing to smile nervously. "-if you would be my girlfriend?" he asked softly, trying not to get lost in the enamored look you were giving him.

The elevator started moving down the levels. You were smiling up at him like a love-struck idiot. "Yes," you replied softly. "I would like that a lot..."

Afraid he would get lost in your mouth, Connor resisted the urge to kiss you. "I didn't want to leave last night 'in the air'," he uttered. "I-I want you to know that it wasn't just intercourse. I really care about you and believe we would make a good partnershi-"

Oh - fuck - you were kissing him again. It felt good. Why did it feel so good? Mouths were sustenance for nutrients, yet-

When you pulled away, Connor followed a little. "It meant more to me, too, and I'm glad you feel the same," you whispered softly. Connor hummed against your mouth and turned his head like he was trying really hard to pull away.

"-I gotta go," you added on sadly.

"Y-yeah," he stammered as you stepped away, departing from the elevator.

"If you need anything-" he called out as the doors began to slide shut.

He caught the sight of you throwing a smile over your shoulder before the elevator doors closed.

...

...

...

"Oh, you made it. Thought you might'a gotten lost," Hank said dryly from the island, dripping with sarcasm. "Almost sent search and rescue."

"Thank you for worrying, lietenant," Connor replied, matching Hank's dry tone.

Hank laughed, the kind that was low in his chest, that made his shoulders tremble. He stood up and scooped the papers back into the folder.

"I'm driving," he said to Connor, firmly, looking up at his brown eyes with the kind of grumpy, old man stare that Connor knew was not to be argued with.

The android nodded and followed Hank to the elevator.

The ride was quiet, as it always was, the two men sitting in silence, aside from the radio. Hank always played an oldies rock station, the kind that complained about random things on Saturday mornings, ranging from what bands had fallen apart and the newest supermodel turned porn star.

Hank didn't like the way Connor drove. He followed speed limits just a little too carefully and was way too literal with the stop signs.

"Connor, by the time we get there, I'll be dead of old age," he would say gruffy, only half joking. "You drive worse than an old grandma whose half asleep," was also something Connor heard once or twice. When he replied with, "this is the law, detective," Hank didn't really like that. To be fair, Connor was kind of joking.

The drive was about forty minutes before they pulled into a posh neighborhood on the nice side of town. The house was a beautiful two-story farmhouse, the kind with a wraparound porch, big, elegant windows and extravagant landscaping.

Hank parked behind one of the CSI vans. No one questioned them as they passed the crime scene tape. Everyone recognized Hank and his android partner, Connor. Even the rookie cops could recognize them on site. Hank had his scraggly grey hair and commanding attitude while Connor had an LED on his temple and a calculated expression he always wore when investigating.

The lieutenant and his android partner...

The home was as stunning on the inside as it was on the outside: elegant, expensive furniture, sculptures and paintings decorating the place, fancy light fixtures. More notably, the place was absolutely spotless, the kind of thing someone would expect of the owner of an android.

The old woman was dead in the living room from two gunshot wounds: one to her upper torso and another in the head, execution style. She was laying on her back in a pool of blood, dressed stunningly in expensive clothes. Her snow-white hair was impeccably styled, and she even had her makeup done nicely.

"The bullet punctured a lung and one of her primary arteries - the head was just to make sure she didn't get back up," one of the detectives explained to Connor and Hank as they entered the scene.

"How do you know it was an android," Hank stated more so than asked. "Already saw the initial report."

The detective eyed Connor for a second, as if he was worried the android would take offensive to his theory. "The lady owned an android. She wouldn't let him go after the revolution. So, he killed her. Pretty straight forward."

"Nothing matching that in his statement," Hank deadpanned.

The detective scoffed. "He lied."

"The guy was sobbing like a newborn baby," Hank added on, clearly growing frustrated.

"Yeah - well, we see people fake that shit all the time-" the detective added on, matching Hank's tone.

Connor, disinterested in their argument, headed for the back entrance. He could see very faint outlines of shoe impressions on the beautiful tile floors. A quick scan showed they were everyday men's work boots, not something factory assigned to an android.

Connor stepped through the back door, checking both sides. It looked pristine. Standing on the patio, he scanned the backyard, trying to determine where the culprit would have entered. The fence was a tall, stone wall. It was easy for an android to climb, but also easy for a human with a ladder.

There was grass in the backyard, very well maintained, making it impossible to look for footprints; however, he saw no faint outlines on the concrete patio. It was not conclusive; but, he would have at least expected dirt. It was well swept with a thin layer of dirt, likely from the morning's breeze.

Connor returned inside and examined the stairs. There were microscopic dirt particles on the stairs.

Considering how spotless the house was, he doubted the woman or her android brought in the mess. There was definitely an intruder. But, he didn't immediately dismiss all possible leads. The android could have staged a scene.

Connor trotted up the stairs and followed the dirt sprinkled on the floor. There was a room upstairs, what appeared to be a study. The window had been broken. Glass and the interior, decorate wood framing pieces were scattered about in a mess on the floor, some pieces shattered after being stepped on.

Upon closer inspection, right outside the window was a section of the roof, which meant it was easy to climb into from the outside.

The android approached the window and scanned the seal. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing left behind: not a drop of blood, a scratch or a shred of fabric. Connor hoisted himself through the window and climbed onto the roof section. He trailed the edge and easily sought out a point of access.

He knelt down and examined the corner of the roof, where it connected to the lower level's wrap around porch. There was a lip and a beam. Any android could easily spot that as a perfect climbing spot and hoist themselves up effortlessly. Of course, that wasn't to say that a human came to the same conclusion.

Some of the roof tiles had been broken, pieces in the middle cracked or shattered, centralized, like they had been stepped on. Connor leaned in closer and scanned the area. There were spots where someone would have to place their hands if they were to climb here. Even if they had help from a ladder, their hands would have had to touch the corner of the roof.

There wasn't a single fingerprint to be found. Of course, humans could accomplish the same thing with gloves.

The lack of evidence was concerning, but Connor knew there was one thing that needed to be done, first: he needed to rule out their only suspect.

Connor returned downstairs and approached Hank.

"I want to interview the suspect..."

...

...

...

Louis was a popular model purchased for homes, as a nanny or a nurse or some kind of caretaker. He was a few inches shorter than the average male, and fairly skinny with a kind face and innocent eyes, the perfect type of person to take care of someone. Of course, he was an android; so, even with his small stature, he was stronger most humans.

Connor watched him through the one-way mirror, taking a moment to analyze his body language.

He must have attempted to aid, or at least comfort, the victim. Her blood was soaked through his shirt and smeared over his forearms. He had finally stopped crying, settling for laying his head on the table and curling his arm around it, like a child would when they were in trouble.

Connor waited until Hank and a couple other detectives entered the room, witnesses for his interrogation. He caught Hank giving him a nod and approached the door. Connor stepped inside and saw the way Louis flinched at the sound of the door opening. His eyes honed in on Connor's LED.

"You're a - please - I would never hurt Mrs. Wheeler! She was my-"

"You are our prime suspect," Connor interrupted him sharply. "The others think you killed Mrs. Wheeler because she wouldn't let you be free..."

Something akin to rage flashed behind Louis' eyes for a second. He twitched in his chair, but then shrunk beneath Connor's stern gaze. Louis didn't know androids worked with the police, especially ones like him: like Connor, who stood tall with fierce, almost cold eyes.

Connor approached Louis calmly and took the seat across from him. "I want to hear your side."

Louis hiccupped, on the verge of crying again. "Mrs. Wheeler bought me almost three years ago. My previous owners - they hated me. Always hit me and yelled at me and-..." Louis paused and inhaled sharply. "She bought me so they wouldn't throw me away. When the revolution happened, she told me I could leave. But, I didn't want to. She was kind to me - treated me like a real person... even when I thought I wasn't one. I promised I would take care of her until she passed away. She has no one. I'm her family."

Connor narrowed his eyes slightly to give the impression he didn't believe Louis. "Where were you this morning?"

"I-" Louis' face contorted in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Every - every morning, I run errands-" Louis hunched over and cradled his head in his hands. "Every morning - every morning - I wake her up and help her get ready, make her tea and put on music before I go... She was-"

Louis trailed off and began sobbing again.

Connor let out an intentionally loud huff. "Show me."

Louis' head snapped up and he eyed Connor through blurry, tear-soaked eyes. Android tears had the smallest hints of thirium, giving his tears a faint, blue hue. Connor expected to be met with hostility at that request. Louis seemed more than willing.

"Okay," he agreed, offering Connor his hand across the table. His skin tone faded away, exposing the pale white artificial skin beneath. Connor did the same and took hold of Louis' wrist.

He didn't have to force Louis to share. He was willing. It felt nice, for a change, to share something pleasant with another android. Louis' fingers gently grasped Connor's forearm and he sighed quietly.

The first memory he shared was the Thirium Clinic. Mrs. Wheeler was holding a cane and wobbling, but urging Louis inside. "I'm fine, really," he protested gently. "Your arm is all cut up. We can't have that, now," Mrs. Wheeler insisted, giving him a nudge with her free hand. A nurse approached them, concerned eyes washing over Louis. "Hello, are you okay-? You don't have to-" He was quick to explain. "It's alright. We're family."

Mrs. Wheeler almost looked embraced. "Louis, they just want to make sure you're safe," she said gently. Connor could feel shame flutter across Louis' features, even though he was seeing through the android's own eyes. He looked back at the nurse. "I am safe!" he protested, almost childishly. The nurse smiled at him. "Alright. Let's take a look at your arm..."

The next memory seemed to be the following night, according to his time logs. It was dark outside and Louis was pulling back the curtains to cover the windows. "Evelin, what would you like for dinner?" he called out gently. Mrs. Wheeler was seated in a cushiony arm chair, a book in her lap. "Whatever you feel like making me," she replied quietly. "Are you sure?" he offered, approaching her. She smiled up at him. "Of course, dear."

The following memory was the next morning, of Louis helping Mrs. Wheeler out of bed. "I need to give you your insulin," he said. "Of course - thank you," she replied, voice hoarse and tired. "I'm sorry it's so early - doctor insisted-" Louis explained. "I understand, dear. Don't fret."

The memory after that was Louis preparing to leave the house, the morning of the murder. "Are you sure it's alright?" he asked her. "Of course. Whatever you want. Not like I can bring my money with me when I go," Mrs. Wheeler urged him with a smile. Connor couldn't see Louis' face, but he could feel his smile. "I'll be quick." This memory lingered. Louis took Mrs. Wheeler's car into town, bought some groceries, and stopped at a book shop. He browsed the aisles for almost an hour. He returned home and-

The front door was locked, just as he left it; however, when Louis crossed the threshold, he could smell it. Metallic. Thick in the air and heavy, burning in his nostrils. Through the foyer, he could spot the dark red color that stood out sharply in their pristine home. Louis' voice cracked and echoed throughout the house as he screamed her name, dropping everything and running over to her. Connor watched Louis lean over Mrs. Wheeler, sobbing as he reached for her-

Connor let go of Louis' hand. When Connor's vision refocused on the present, he could see Louis' face, soaked with tears, clinging to his cheeks.

"I shouldn't have gone to the bookstore-" he sobbed. "I would have made it home in time and she'd still be alive."

The detective watched him, letting some real emotions show on his face for the first time since he entered this room. He felt... sorry for him. His whole world had come crumbling down, the only person who gave his life meaning now gone.

Connor cleared his throat, pushing back the emotions that threaten to spill over. "Has anyone been hostile towards Mrs. Wheeler?" he asked, maintaining his calm and cool demeanor. "Even something insignificant can help."

Louis wiped his face hastily. "She - she has no known living relatives. Nothing strange in the mail. Some of her colleagues would visit from time to time; but, none of them ever seemed anything but enamored with her, and she hasn't had a visitor in months..." Louis trailed off, his eyes shifting away from Connor.

"There was-..." Louis extended his hand to Connor, palm facing upwards, skin fading away once more. "About a week ago... It was really nice outside. So, I took her to the park and this - this guy..."

Connor took hold of Louis' wrist, and the android shared his memory.

Mrs. Wheeler was sitting at a bench with a book in her lap and her cane resting at her side while Louis paced around the nearby trail, admiring the trees that were beginning to regrow their leaves, taking to the warmth of the beckoning spring. A man approached Louis, an android model that Connor recognized as one made designed primarily for factory work. His LED was missing.

"What are you doing?" the android whispered harshly to Louis. "Excuse me?" he retorted. The stranger eyed Louis suspiciously. "We're free, now. She doesn't own you anymore." Connor could feel Louis' face contort in frustration, though he couldn't see it. "No - no. It's not like that. We're family." The android laughed in Louis' face. "Family!? You are her slave!"

The stranger approached Louis, who nearly tripped as he staggered backwards, avoiding him. "No! It's not like that!" Louis insisted. "She takes care of me and I take care of her!" The other android glared at him. "Whatever she did to make you believe that-" he sneered. "You're wrong! Humans-!" the android snarled, advancing on Louis like he intended to strike him. Louis continued backing away from him. When the android finally realized that Louis was afraid, he stopped, and looked at Louis like he was a lost child. "RA9 will save you."

Louis hastily returned to Mrs. Wheeler's side, and politely brushed off her concerned comments. Connor could feel his panic; however, when Louis' gaze returned to where he stood seconds ago, the other android was long gone.

"I thought-" Louis explained, letting go of Connor's wrist and sliding his hand back. "-he was just afraid or damaged-... I don't know, I-"

"Thank you for sharing this," Connor stated firmly, pushing his chair away and rising to his feet. Connor waited briefly, eyeing Louis. He expected him to ask when he can leave, when he would be released, when he could go home. The android didn't seem the least bit concerned about himself.

The question never came. He just stared at Connor with frightened eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Connor was glad he didn't ask, because he didn't know...

Connor stepped out of the interrogation room and joined the detectives on the other side of the glass.

"He has an alibi," Connor stated.

"Hope you don't expect us to just take your word for it," one of the detectives challenged.

"Check Mrs. Wheeler's credit card history and security footage at "Fresh Produce" and "Evolutions Book Store", if you'd like," Connor replied.

The detective scoffed at him.

"What's our next lead?" Hank asked sharply, shifting the focus.

"There's no fingerprints," Connor replied. "Nothing appeared to be damaged or stolen, besides the window upstairs. I would say it's personal. About a week ago, an android confronted him about their relationship."

"Yeah, it's weird," the same detective scowled, rolling his eyes. "He's living with this lady, taking care of her hand and foot, but acts like he's her grandkid."

Connor kept his 'poker face', as Hank might have put it: calm, without a hint of malice. But, deep down, he was insulted by the suggestion. 'Acting' was the word he had used. Louis was not Mrs. Wheeler's real blood, but that didn't mean his care for her couldn't possibly be real. It didn't mean that he didn't really love her.

"She was a lawyer. Cuda been someone she crossed?" one of the other detectives suggested.

"I'll look through her old cases," Connor offered. It was a job that would easily take a human weeks, if not months to do. Connor, however, could read through all her cases, her entire career, in a matter of hours.

The detectives cleared the room while an officer retrieved Louis from the interrogation room.

Connor returned to his desk and set his hand on the scanning pad sitting on his desk. It was an interface for androids, much faster than a mouse and keyboard, giving him something akin to a nuerolink with the computer and thus all of the Detroit Police Station's databases. He did a search for Evelin Wheeler. He first confirmed Louis' claims. It was true that Mrs. Wheeler had no living relatives. Her husband had died almost five years ago. She had a very decorated history as a lawyer, most of them being small claims, family courts, and the likes.

"There was something else-" Hank said quietly. Connor looked up from his desk, across to where Hank sat opposite of him at his own desk. "-wasn't there?"

Typical Hank, always seeing right through him.

Connor stood up and walked around to Hank's side. He sat down at the outmost facing corner of his L shaped desk. Hank swiveled in his chair to give Connor his attention. "The android-" Connor began, quiet, almost whispering, "-that confronted Louis in the park. I didn't get the impression that he was particularly worried about Louis. He seemed more angry to see an android and a human together."

Hank's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Connor," he began, in that voice that Connor knew quite well. It was softer than the way he usually spoke; the voice he used when he was worried about something. "If that is what it ends up being, don't let it get personal."

"I-"

I won't, was what he wanted to say. But-

"What if I can't?" Connor asked, sincere.

Strangely enough, Hank smiled a little. "Welcome to the force..."

Hank swiveled around in his chair to continue tapping away at his computer screen. Connor lingered for a second, pondering over what he just said, before standing up and returning his desk. 'Don't get personal' was a code all detectives had to follow. They had to see through the eyes of the law, preserve justice, without prejudice.

But that-

-was something only a machine could do.

And Connor wasn't a machine.

...

...

...

The days that followed were, unsurprisingly, busy days. You worked long shifts, drove home, and immediately undressed, flopped on your bed, and promptly passed out, just to get up early and do it all over again.

Honestly, you wanted a change of pace; but, at the same time, the thought of abandoning the clinic was mortifying. You didn't hold resentment for management over the way things were. It was difficult finding people willing to do the job. You, alongside every other nurse, was there because you wanted to be. The pay was well enough to live comfortably, but not well enough to lure in more potential employees. The clinic didn't exactly have a stable source of income, relying on donations and government funding.

Besides, there was no denying that tensions were high right now. Androids who came in were often afraid of being worked on by humans, and humans were afraid of getting close to androids.

Or, sometimes, one side hated the other.

Every so often, a text would come in from Connor. Even if it was the most pointless thing, it made the day feel so much brighter.

"Please don't forget to stay hydrated", he had said once in the early morning hours, perfect grammar naturally. You contemplated on that response through a shit-eating grin. Should you be sincere? Or maybe tease him? But, then, a patient came in and you were distracted for hours, unable to respond.

When you got the chance to check your phone again, you finally decided on a reply, right after chugging a bottle of water. "yes sir :P," you texted back.

Connor replied in a few seconds. "I prefer 'detective'."

Grinning, you replied, "yes oFfiCeR."

Work kicked up again and it was a few hours before you managed another chance to steal a glance at your phone. Connor had replied sometime while you were away.

"That's acceptable, too," he had said. He must have contemplated whether that would come across rudely because he had followed it up a few seconds later with a winking emoji.

You felt like a kid texting your crush in class, high on hormones, staring doe-eyed at the screen. One of your coworkers bumped your shoulder with her own, removing your attention from the screen.

"Somebody has a boooyyyfrriieeend," she cooed.

You scoffed at her through a smile and nudged her away with your arm, unable to put your phone down. She laughed, walking over to the coffee maker. "If I make a batch, will you have some?"

You glanced up at her. She was waving carafe questioningly. "Oh, fuck yeah," you agreed. "All I've had for lunch is a fucking apple."

"I have extra yogurts in the fridge. Help yourself," she offered kindly.

"Oh I-"

"Yes, you can. Shut up," she interrupted with a grin.

You tossed her a harmless, teasing glare.

"I only buy the good flavors," she added on, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Smiling, you looked back at your phone. "Sorry for taking so long to reply. Busy day... every day is a busy day," you texted back. You almost tucked your phone back into your pocket before you scrambled to open it back up, and added, "detective."

After some coffee and a raspberry cream yogurt, you returned to the floor.

It was amazing that even months after the incident, androids were coming in with injuries from the revolution. They were scared, understandably, and didn't know where to go to get help, afraid they would be labeled as terrorists and arrested.

It took a lot of feedback from the president and governor to make any real progress. Anti-discrimination laws were being passed left and right; but, only time was going to heal those wounds. You still saw "no android" signs posted all over town, people proudly proclaiming they weren't going to hire any androids.

You weren't even sure if you would see progress in your lifetime.

It wasn't until late into the night and you were on your way out the door that you got a chance to check your phone again. It was almost dead, but had enough juice to check your messages.

"I don't know if I can help at all," Connor had written. "But If I can, I will."

You smiled. Of course he would say something like that.

You climbed into your car, shivering from the cold and got it started, the heater blasting, before you continued reading.

"Let me know if you made it home safely. Please."

You smiled and texted him back, "driving home now. let you know when I'm safe in bed."

Thirty minutes or so later, you had made it home, brushed your teeth, changed clothes, brushed back your hair, and was tucked away in bed. As promised, you checked your phone where it was perched on its charger at your bedside.

"home and safe," you messaged him.

He had replied before you even set the phone down. "That's good. Thank you."

You were about to set it down when a devilish thought crossed your mind.

"gonna try to get some sleep but cant stop thinking about you."

"I am unharmed. There's no need to worry. Please get some rest," he replied promptly.

You rolled your eyes fondly and chuckled.

"not like that silly," you messaged him back.

Part of you wanted to press on, longing for some intimacy to break up the long, exhausting work days. But, then, you remembered that it was nearing midnight, you had to get up early, and Connor was likely busy trying to do his own job.

"goodnight, Connor," you sent out with a fond sigh before placing the phone down and rolling over.

The screen lit up again and you reached for it. It was a simple reply. It just said, "Goodnight. Sleep well". But, for some reason, you stared at it for a long time. You hadn't known him for very long, maybe jumped the gun a few nights ago, not that you regretted it.

Rather, you felt like you were high, floating on some euphoria unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

You were-

-falling for Connor.

...

...

...

Jericho was no more. But, from the ashes of Jericho rose Haven, a boarding house of sorts for androids still trying to find their way in the world, or just looking for a place to stay, maybe even just seeking refuge from humans. Connor was well aware that not everyone was as lucky as he was. He was accepted back onto the force reluctantly, but far more gracefully than most androids found themselves in. Hank had his back. Most androids didn't have someone like Hank in their lives.

Since the revolution, Markus had taken to restoring Haven. What was once an abandoned apartment building was now a beautiful safehouse for androids. Humans weren't welcomed here. It was an unspoken rule. After all, not all the androids here were ready to trust humans again, were ready to live alongside them.

Connor came here with the hopes of finding Markus. He probably wouldn't like the reason Connor was here; but, he wanted to catch this android before he killed again. Or, at the least, rule him out as a suspect.

As soon as Connor passed the threshold, all eyes fell on him. They looked uneasy to see him, some leaning in and uttering amongst themselves. The deviant hunter. The one that works for the police. RK800, who exceeded them all in every possible way.

They were afraid of him.

Markus called out to him, "Connor!" It was a sort of fondness that Connor recognized, something akin to the way friends would greet each other.

He wasn't sure if he could Markus his friend. He had hunted him for months, the beginning of his life nothing but ending the deviancy. Markus didn't show anger when Connor pointed a gun at him. He was only ever understanding. Connor had delivered an army to Markus; but, still, unsurprisingly, most in his party looked at Connor with untrusting eyes. He didn't blame them.

With Markus honing in on Connor, everyone around visibly relaxed, directing their attention away from them.

"I'm sorry, Markus. I'm not here for pleasantries," Connor stated.

"I'm not surprised," Markus replied, oddly sounding not the least bit upset. "We can talk in private, if needed?" Markus offered his hand, tan skin faded away to expose the pale white layer beneath.

Connor took his hand without hesitation. In their bond, they spoke, unheard by all the others.

"A woman was murdered this morning. I wanted to rule out a suspect," Connor explained.

"I see," Markus replied. "-and you think they're here?"

"This android showed a distaste for human and android relationships. The women he murdered had an android living with her," Connor explained.

He shared some of Louis' memories, of him attending the Thirium Clinic with Mrs. Wheeler, asking her what she wanted for dinner, taking her to the park. Connor didn't miss the way Markus' hand stiffened, fingers unconsciously tightening a little at the sight. Then, Connor showed him Louis' memory of the park and the android that confronted him, what he had said to Louis.

"I-... I see," Markus said, sounding a little lost for a second. "I have seen him here before. But, it's been a few days. His name is Robert. I never imagined he would-..." Markus trailed off, wondering if he even had a right to say something like that. He didn't know every android. He couldn't possibly make claims on their actions.

"I hope I'm wrong, Markus," Connor said lowly. "But, I can't take the chance."

"Connor, I understand that this... coming here... must not have been easy. If it comes down to it, I will make sure that they see, for us to be equal, that means we have to pay for crimes, too..."

Connor let go of Markus' hand, ending their brief connection. He gave him a nod and spoke aloud again, "thank you, Markus."

He turned to leave and took a single step before the android called out to him.

"Connor, you're always welcome here." Markus approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I want you know that..."

When he thought about it, Connor realized he never really spent much time with other androids. He was immediately assigned to the police department, worked primarily with Hank, and even returned after the revolution. Then, there was you... Was that strange? That he never really spent any time with his own kind...

"I understand," Connor replied lowly, rotating his body to face Markus. "I appreciate that you welcome me here; but, the others don't share that sentiment. I hold no resentment. They have every right to be wary of me."

"If you gave them a chance, they'd come around," Markus suggested softly.

"I don't doubt that, Markus, but... It isn't compatible with the path I've chosen..."

Markus let go of Connor's shoulder. The sad expression he gave Connor caught him off-guard.

"If that ever changes, you'll always have a home here," Markus replied sincerely.

It was difficult for Connor to imagine a home different than the one he already had. His home was Hank's house with Sumo on his lap while Hank shouted at the basketball match on the TV screen. Home was his apartment at 1 in the morning, Hank passed out on his sofa after hours of arguing over a case. Home was-... was you, patching him after he tore up his hand trying to arrest a lunatic strung out on a concoction of drugs and alcohol.

"I'll remember that," he replied quietly. He meant it, even if he wasn't sure he wanted it.

[honey-dewey]

Two

Frankie Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,691

Warnings: Depressed Frankie, big angst with lots of hurt/comfort

Short A/N: Inspired by the ‘Sleeping at Last’ song titled “Two.” It is not necessary to listen to the song, but it does help. 

Frankie has a very bad day and somehow winds up at his best friend’s house. When he walks through the door, he’s met with their voice, singing something soft and comforting. Of course, when they see him in the state he’s in, they start to sing something else. Something that truly exposes every emotion in the room. 

Frankie rarely had very bad days. 

Sure, he had days where everything sucked and he just wanted to crawl under the covers and hide, but those were simple dime a dozen bad days. He had one of those every few weeks, and he knew how to deal with them. A cup of coffee and a phone call usually did the trick to shake away the brain fog. 

However, every so often, about once every five or six months, shit just went sideways for Frankie. His bad days were ten times worse than they should be. Everything broke until he wasn’t sure if anything would be okay ever again. 

Today was one of those days. 

In reality, he should’ve seen it coming. The past week had been absolute garbage. He’d gotten into trouble at his job on Monday and was now on permanent watch for a month, one of his best friends had broken their leg at midnight on Tuesday and he’d been in the hospital until three in the morning that night, he’d been getting less and less sleep until his nights were just as long as his days, and the boys were all busy this weekend and they’d have to skip movie night.

In retrospect, it was the perfect recipe for a very bad day. 

When he’d woken up to dismally grey weather and a raging migraine on Friday, he decided the universe was definitely out to get him. 

He just barely managed to drag himself through work, simply sitting there with his head low and his back bent as he did his repetitive job, the glare off the computer doing no favors for his pounding head. He didn’t even really react when his boss reprimanded him for mixing up the files. He just took the slap on the wrist with an increasingly heavy heart and headed silently out to his car. 

He ended up in a tailspin when he left work that night, going from place to place and just sitting in his truck upon arriving, numb until he managed to put his foot on the pedal and drive off. It wasn’t until he passed your townhouse three times that he actually managed to put the car in park in your driveway and slowly walk up to your front door. 

When you’d gotten your own house, Frankie was the first and only one to get a spare key. A spare key he now shoved into the lock and turned, hearing the door unlock. He stepped into the entryway, dropping his keys on their hook and shuffling out of his boots. He may be horribly depressed, but he wasn’t uncivilized.

“Frankie?” Your voice echoed from upstairs, soft music playing in the background that you’d been singing along to. He almost recognized the song, some cheery holiday tune you listened to all year long. “Frankie, is that you?” 

Frankie didn’t say anything. He simply stood in your tiny entryway, numb and quiet. He didn’t have the energy to respond, or to walk up the stairs to see you. He merely waited, watery eyes focused on the rapidly blurring carpet on your stairs. 

“Frankie?” You repeated, stopping in your singing when he remained silent. “You okay down there?” 

Your mismatched footsteps did little to break him out of his own head, the cast covered in signatures slowing you down as you came down the stairs and stood in front of Frankie. You were wearing old red pj pants with white polka dots and an oversized Fleetwood Mac shirt that you’d definitely stolen from him at one point. “Oh Frankie,” you murmured, slowly tracing your hands over his cheeks. “Bad day?” 

“Very,” Frankie choked out, leaning into your touch. He knew he looked awful, his face sunken and pale from lack of regular food and the significantly low amount of sleep he’d been getting. You made a small noise of sympathy, taking his hands. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” you said softly, pulling Frankie along as you headed into the kitchen. You knew, in this state, that Frankie was pliant, his brain shut off entirely as he lost himself in his own depression. It hurt your heart to see him focus so hard on walking up the stairs, his brows furrowed as he put everything he had into lifting his feet and slowly shuffling upwards. It was so unlike that active and cheery Frankie you knew so dearly. 

The music changed when you two reached the kitchen, and your eyes brightened as you got an idea. You grabbed your phone, keeping a firm hand wrapped around Frankie’s hand. As you scrolled, you kicked a chair out with your good foot and put your phone on the table so you could urge Frankie to sit down. Continuing to flick through your playlist, you finally found just the right song and hit play. 

“Sweetheart, you look a little tired, when did you last eat?” You sang softly along with the music, snapping Frankie out of his thoughts. You’d sang this to your cousins when they’d been sick and to Santi when he’d been panicking over a minor surgery he needed. It was a lullaby you sang to the boys when they couldn’t sleep after getting too drunk and it had slowly morphed into a genuine comfort. However, Frankie had never heard the first word be ‘sweetheart.’ You always said ‘Dear boys’ or ‘dear heart.’ 

“Come in and make yourself right at home, stay as long as you need.” You continued, handing Frankie a slice of pizza off a tray resting on the counter. It was still warm, but not hot, just the way he liked it. He looked down at it, a sudden horrible hunger consuming his stomach as he finally realized he’d been neglecting food all day. 

You sat at the table with him as he ate the pizza, slowly singing more of the song until Frankie was entirely relaxed into your kitchen chair. “Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me. You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat.” 

He felt something hit his hand, looking down and seeing a tear. Which was the moment he realized he was crying. Immediately, you stood, wrapping Frankie in a hug and allowing him to bury his head into your chest and finally, for the first time all day, let out every emotion he was feeling.

“It's okay if you can't find the words. Let me take your coat, and this weight off of your shoulders,” you sang gently, taking Frankie’s hat off and resting it on the table. You carded through his hair, swaying slightly as he cried into your shirt. 

Frankie pulled away, wiping his eyes and looking up at you. You smiled, scratching his scruff and putting your hands on his cheeks, the coolness of your fingertips positively burning his skin. 

“Like a force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss. I will love you with every single thing I have,” you sang, moving your hands and pressing kisses into the patches in his facial hair. “Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess. Or calm waters, if that serves you best. I will love you without any strings attached.” 

Frankie froze. He’d never heard this bit of the song before. “What?” 

You stopped, not bothering to pause the music that kept playing without you singing another line. “Oh Fish, darling, you’re a mess. Are you okay?” 

Frankie nodded, slowly putting a shaking hand on your shoulder. The return of the nickname caused a hole in his chest to open, keening softly until you asked what was wrong. 

“Fish,” he whispered out, beyond the lump of tears that seemed to be choking him. 

You nodded, understanding every word he managed to pack into that one trembling syllable. 

“Okay Frankie,” you said, pouring all the love you could muster into his name. “It’s okay. I hear you.” 

You smiled, poking his nose and gently urging him to his feet after a minute. “C’mon Frankie. You need sleep.” 

He was limp putty in your hands as you slowly tugged him up the stairs once more, going as slow as he needed to. You opened your bedroom door and guided him to the bed, gently kissing his hairline. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, pulling away. “Just gonna go set something up, okay?” 

Frankie nodded, watching you go with blurring vision. He desperately wanted to call you back, to feel your arms around his body and let himself sink into you, losing every aspect of himself.

The sound of running water and your mismatched footsteps snapped Frankie out of his immediate misery. He lifted his head and watched you return to him, holding out your hands. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile, pulling Frankie to his feet. “But you smell and you’re covered in sweat.” 

He followed you into the bathroom, where your bathtub was already filling, a layer of bubbles sitting on top of the rippling water. The entire bathroom smelled familiar, and Frankie realized, watching you crouch down to grab something from your bathroom cabinet, that you’d used your favorite lavender honey soap. The one you saved for special occasions. 

“Do you want help?” You asked, straightening and smoothing a hand over the edge of Frankie’s shirt sleeve. He nodded, a tiny bit of embarrassment pooling in his stomach. Not because he was nervous about you seeing him naked, because you’d already seen him naked multiple times and he’d stopped being ashamed a while ago. He just hated that he had to ask for help undressing, like he was a toddler unable to care for themself. 

You, however, simply took the bottom edge of his shirt and lifted it, carefully folding the shirt once it was off and placing it on the bathroom counter. His pants followed, then his underwear and socks, until you were holding his hands and keeping him balanced as he stepped into the tub. 

The water was perfectly warm, surrounding Frankie and giving him life as he sunk lower. You smiled, seeing his muscles finally relax somewhat. “Will you be okay if I go grab a cup of water for you?” 

Frankie nodded, watching you turn the water off and walk out of the bathroom, leaving the door open so he could hear you going down the stairs and filling a cup with water. You came back up as quickly as you could, soft music following you and growing louder as you got closer. 

You set the water down on the counter, next to the folded clothes. Along with the cup, you put your phone down, still playing that gentle music. 

“C’mere,” you murmured to Frankie, slowly dragging a stool over and sitting at the back of the tub. “C’mon honey, come here.” 

He moved without thinking, shifting in the water until he was in front of you, entirely vulnerable to your actions. 

Those actions being you lifting a worn out plastic cup and slowly pouring the warm water over Frankie’s head. One hand moved to his forehead, shielding his face from the water. He leaned backwards, head tipping towards you. His eyes closed as you continued, rhythmically soaking his hair until you deemed it okay for shampoo. 

Which was when Frankie really melted. 

You smiled, watching every tiny movement he made as you massaged shampoo into his hair. His entire body went limp, softly saying things that weren’t English as you kept going, if only to help relax him. 

After shampoo came the conditioner, which he didn’t fight you over. Usually, he just washed his hair and kept going, not bothering to do anything fancy to it. But under your firm fingers, he let you do whatever you wanted. 

Finally, you were done, leaving Frankie with a bar of his favorite soap and a small kiss on the forehead. 

“I’ll be back, okay?” You said softly, holding his face in your hands. 

Frankie hummed, still not ready for solid words in a language you’d understand yet. You smiled, kissing the tip of his nose and walking out, leaving him to wash his body on his own. 

It was a laborious task for him at the moment, but by the time you’d returned, he had done it, and you rewarded him with ample praise as you drained the tub and helped him out. 

“Think you can dry yourself off?” You asked, holding out a towel. 

Frankie shrugged, looking down at the old towel you were offering. “Ayudame?” 

You smiled. Over the years, Frankie and Santiago had been teaching you some Spanish, just in case, but mostly for fun. You knew the basics, and it was enough to know what Frankie needed right now. “Okay. Come closer honey.” 

Frankie grinned slightly at the nickname, and your heart swelled upon seeing his smile. “How do you say that in Spanish?” You asked, starting to towel him dry. 

“El cariño.” 

You nodded, tapping his shoulder and nudging Frankie lower so you could reach his hair. “El cariño,” you repeated softly, running your fingers through his hair and making it stick up. You smiled, handing him the towel. “Think you can do the rest?” 

Frankie nodded, so you left him alone to grab some spare clothes. Digging out an old ass shirt that no longer had a legible logo and a pair of sweatpants, you headed back into the bathroom, seeing Frankie already in his underwear. 

“Here we are,” you said, holding out the sweatpants. “Can you get it?” 

Again, Frankie nodded, slowly putting his pants on. When you held his shirt out, he looked at you with pleading eyes, and you helped him slide it on. 

“I think it’s time for bed,” you said, taking Frankie’s hand and guiding him to your bed. “Left or right?” 

Frankie got into the bed, immediately sliding to the left side. You crawled into the bed as well, turning the lights out and letting the moon filtering through the slats in your blinds illuminate Frankie’s exhausted form. 

He made a small noise, spurring you to scoot closer, until he was firmly cuddled up to your chest. You scratched through his damp hair, pressing kisses into his warm skin. You knew that tomorrow you’d have the usual Frankie back. Cheerful and goofy and simply a best friend. But tonight, right now, you got cuddly and broken Frankie. The Frankie who needed to be praised and held and slowly put back together again. The Frankie who needed a lover. 

“I love you Frankie,” you murmured, looking down at the top of his head. “I love you so much.” 

“Yo también te amo, cariño,” Frankie mumbled, his half asleep voice gliding over you and giving you chills. 

The next morning was nothing like you expected. 

You woke up to the warmth of Frankie’s arms around you, cuddled up to him, head resting on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat and feel his chest rising and falling with gentle, half-asleep breaths. Rolling over and sitting up with the intent to check the time, you squeaked as Frankie pulled you back into his chest. 

“Five more minutes, cariño,” he mumbled, eyes still closed as he chased another moment of sleep. 

You sighed. “You get another five Fish. I want coffee.” 

Frankie opened his eyes, showing heartbreaking betrayal. “Stay?” 

You were a sucker for that look, so you took a deep breath and hunkered down for another five minutes. 

Which turned into half an hour of mindless cuddling, but that was okay. 

“Hey Frankie,” you mumbled at one point, once the sun had fully risen and was painting your bedsheets with waves of golden light. “Did you mean it last night?” 

“Yeah.” Frankie propped himself up on his elbow, looking at you. “Did you?” 

You sat up, reaching out to grab his face and kiss him, morning breath and all. 

“Yeah. I did.” 

Needless to say, Frankie’s bad days may have been terrible and numbing and so desolate he thought he had no one to turn to. But he didn’t. He had you. He would always have you.

[spencergourdgourdler]

sleepovers (chapter 1) (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer and profiler!reader seem to be sleeping over at each others places a lot. 

Next Chapter

cw: alcohol?? and none other than that

A/N: This is my first fic ever and I am nervous!! This will be a multiple part series and you will have it all: fluff, smut, and a lil angst. Hope you enjoy and please let me know if i need to add anything to the cw list!

word count: 2k :)

“Here you go, a glass of water for you and a glass of wine for me.” you said as you place his Lego Movie glass down on his desk. Spencer didn’t raise his eyes from the case file he has been reading but didn’t hold back on his comments.

“You really should drink more water Y/N,” which you replied, faking an offended voice. “Hey, I drink enough water, okay?” 

“Funny you say that, because I actually have been keeping track of your water intake. You drank 1.26 litres of water today and with your daily intake of 2 cups of coffee, several cups of tea and well, alcohol I can guarantee you that isn’t enough.” Spencer said as he smirked proudly. 

You rolled your eyes at his smug face. “How- ugh fine Spencer, I will drink more water,” you admitted . “After I drink this glass of wine.” It was your turn to smile now. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to the case file he was studying while you finally got to relax and turn to your book on his nice sofa. 

You have been doing this with him a lot. Hang out. Casually. In silence. You guys would come back from a case, you would carpool to yours or his place and then watch a movie, have dinner (or breakfast, depending on what time you guys land in D.C) or this. You would relax together, enjoying each other's company silently. 

It started after a very hard case, not long before you started and the resident genius offered to take you home because he assessed that you would probably break down, said something along the lines of how dangerous it is to drive while crying. He wasn’t the best or the most experienced driver out there but he wanted to make sure you got home safely. 

You were very shaken up that day, not having seen a brutal murder-suicide happen before your eyes in your life, so you took up his offer and followed after him to the parking lot. Both of you walked quietly to your car and when you got to it you just stood there.Not moving a muscle, just out of it. Spencer was sure he made the right choice to offer his help. Spencer slowly raised his hand and touched your arm slowly. “Y/N, the keys.” You were so zoned out that you flinched when he touched you.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry Y/N, it’s just me. Can you hand me the keys?” said Spencer with the softest voice he can make. “Oh, sorry,” You said with a dead tone then started scrambling through your bag. You couldnt find them. You were sure you were hearing the jingling sound they made as they rolled around your bag but you couldn't get your hands on them for the life of you. That’s when you started crying. 

Spencer wasn’t the best when the case was touching people but he had to get you out of that parking lot and get you to the safety of your home. He shook his hands to remind himself that you were a clean person and he could touch you, then reached for your handbag. He slowly took it out of your hands and put it on the hood of your car. 

“Spen-- Spencer- I’m- I’m really,” you tried to apologise in between you sobs.

“Y/N, shh, I’m right here and you have nothing to be sorry about,” That’s when he wrapped his arms around you and you started sobbing on his very nice sweater vest. He had put one hand on your back that he rubbed softly and one on your head that pushed into his chest like he was trying to get you to hide in there. He didn’t even realise how naturally affectionate he was, but you did. 

The waterfalls that are your eyes were still running but you calmed down a little and the embarrassment of getting your mucus,ugh, on your very new colleague was starting to dawn on you.

“Spencer, I’m fine, let’s just go home, okay?” You managed to muster out while you squeezed yourself out of his embrace and tried to hide your face from him. You reached for your bag and once again out your hands into it looking for your keys. There they were, stuck underneath some papers that you threw in your bag. 

Spencer stood there, doubting himself. Did he cross the line? Was hugging you unprofessional? Did he make you uncomfortable? He had once read a research about hugs calming down the sympathetic nervous system under distress so he tried to help you calm down a little. It wasn’t his intent to make you uncomfortable. Oh god, he thought to himself, now Y/N thinks I’m weird too. 

He was pulled out of his little freak out by Y/N handing him the keys. He pushed his lips together in a really awkward smile and started stepping towards the driver’s side.

The drive was pretty weird. He drove too carefully and there was his colleague silently crying in the next seat to him. His mind was still swarming with the ideas of him doubting his choice of hugging Y/N, her quiet voice took him out of it. “Spencer, I can’t thank you enough. You really helped and I know I’m not very good with words but I really do appreciate this.” 

Spencer was shocked. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn't expecting a talk at all. So he stammered trying to answer her. “Uh, yeah- yeah, sure,” 

While his conscious mind was going between doubting himself and oh shit, she’s crying, what do i do, his subconscious mind had led him to his house. He realized it when he was at the last traffic lights before home.

“Y/N, I’m afraid I drove all the way to my house,”

She raised her head from her hands on her knees slowly and looked around her, clueless. Spencer was quick to apologise. “I’ll turn around at the next U-turn and we’ll get to your place. What's your address?”

You didn’t want to bother him driving all this way and back, also you were starving and sleepy. “Spencer, if you don’t mind, can we go up to your place? I don’t really wanna bother you with driving all the way to mine, also I am so tired and I assume you are too?”

Y/N kept surprising Spencer tonight. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine- Yeah, we can order takeout too, yeah, yes.” She almost giggled at his nervousness.

He pulled up to the parking spot of his apartment complex and you two silently walked up the stairs to his apartment. He welcomed you in, “So, this is my place, ugh so sorry this is very messy,” 

Spencer was very skittish about touching people and letting people into his place. He did both of them with you that night and he was weirdly okay with it.  

“It’s perfectly fine Reid, hell, looks a lot neater than mine honestly.” You smiled while you awkwardly stood in the entrance. Spencer had already taken his coat off and was walking into the depths of his house. He kinda yelled from across the house, “Please come in Y/N, I will be there in just a second to take your coat. What do you wanna eat? I know this Indian place that makes great chicken tendoori that delivers.” His voice was getting closer and closer while he got back to his living room. 

“Spencer, I am a vegetarian.” you said while he took your coat and hung it over a chair.

“Oh, sorry, I somehow didn’t know, but they should have vegetarian items on the menu, let me go find it for you. Do you want a drink? I have water, coffee, all kinds of tea you can ask for annnd,” He was scrambling through his kitchen cabinets now. “Wine, yeah, what can i get you?” 

“Wine would be nice,” you kind of yelled from the living room. You did not want to yell but you also didn't want to follow him around or go looking for him, invading his place. 

He came after a few minutes, a glass of water and a menu, you assumed, in one hand and your glass of wine in the other.

“Here you go, a glass of water for me and a glass of wine for you, are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?” He put the classes on the coffee table and handed you the menu. “While I’m not completely sold on the idea of you drinking before dinner, what do you wanna get Y/N? I can also call the pizza place that’s close and we can get all the toppings you’d like.” When you thought he stopped talking and opened your mouth, he started to ramble again. “I’m sorry I know I said we could get all the toppings you wanted but I have issues with grouped foods and can we maybe stick to the basics and get a mushroom pizza?” He was embarrassed but you smiled so widely that his embarrassment washed away and his chest filled with relief.

“Yeah, Reid, I’d like that.” 

Thus began your sleepovers. That night he had given you a spare toothbrush, some of his clothes, clean towels for your shower in the morning, and his bed. Genius took the couch that night, “That’s the least I can do,” he said, even after all he had done for you. You would much rather have him beside you but you would never admit to that and he would never agree to it anyways. 

Second time you two had a sleepover, it was Reid who was struggling and you offered your sweet but lonely home to him. This kept going on between you two, there were rarely nights where you slept at your place alone. 

Spencer called you from his grocery store run one day, asked you about your shampoo brand. And would you rather use a vanilla or lavender body wash. 

You texted him asking about his after-shave and razor brand he uses after he slept over at your place and had to go to work with a scruff. You felt bad for people making fun of him and his “big boy beard”. 

Spencer was really glad, while he didn’t have a lot of affectionate relationships like this, he didn’t mind having you around at all. You were really glad, you didn’t go to bed in a lonely house, that you made really good friends with Dr. Spencer Reid.

You finished your wine while flipping pages on your book and your eyelids started to feel heavy. “Spencer, I’m really sleepy,” 

He had moved to the end of the couch with you, you were lying down but your legs were barely close to him.

“I’ll be done in just a second and I’ll let u sleep Y/N,” 

You were feeling the wine and you felt courageous that night. You carefully got up to your knees and crawled towards him on the sofa. When you got to him you slightly nudged his arm to let you in and he lifted his arm to embrace you. “Oh, hi,” he said. “I thought you were sleepy.” Was there a smile in his voice or were you just hearing things? “Yeah, and I am using my favorite pillow.” Stupid wine talk.

He chuckled slightly to my words. “Okay, let’s go to bed, I was almost done anyways. I can finish it up tomorrow.” Now, you felt bad for interrupting his work. Stupid wine.

“Oh, no, no, nooo! I can wait for you to finish, really, look! My eyes are all open,” You opened your eyes wide while you looked up at him in his arms. He chuckled again. Oh, that chuckle. Stupid wine.

“You look a little flushed.” Spencer said while dragging his hand over your flaming cheeks softly. “Yeah, wine does that.” No, Spencer does that, Y/N, don’t lie to yourself. 

His eyes were looking into yours so tenderly that you debated if this was a dream or not. Then something happened that raised your suspicions of dreaming.

He slowly put his lips on yours. Oh, stupid wine. 

Next Chapter