#watch me dump everything I’ve been drawing for the past months what the fuck

[javsarts]

At some point, he made a silent oath to himself that someday, he will repay that girl’s kindness.

.

.

And he unknowingly did

Just a random HC of mine where a little Jenevelle did help a little Durge at some point, set in a time before Bhaal and Shar.

[ethan-torchio-angelo]

Yesterday

Summary: A moment alone on a balcony and being grateful that today is a new day

Warnings: A few swears, a kiss, not much tbh

Word Count: 1500

A/N: So, I took a break. But I'm back. Life has been hell and the only time I can find myself happy is when I'm writing. As always, likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated!

“I love you”

She knows that if she had heard those words yesterday, she would have been thrilled, and would have deemed it the best day ever. She would have been happy and smiling because he finally, finally said them. But today is not yesterday and things have changed.

“I wish you were saying those words because you mean them, and not because you're scared of me leaving.”

She grabs her bag from the chair beside her and makes her way to the door, refusing to turn back and look at him as he yells out her name. She makes it half way down the street before the tears start falling. She’s not necessarily sad at the circumstance, more angry that she let this go on for as long as it did. She’s caught him cheating more times than she can count, been stood up for dates and before today, never heard those three words leave his mouth in the almost year they’ve been together.

But none of that matters now, she’s left him for good and she won’t be going back.

The first thing she does when she gets home is grab everything that belonged to or reminded her of him and throws it into a box. Then, she grabs a bottle of wine and plops herself down on the couch to drink away her sorrows. She pulls out her phone and dials the only number worth remembering. It rings once, then twice, and she’s afraid he won’t answer, but halfway through the third ring the call connects.

She doesn’t leave him anytime to greet her, jumping straight to the point, “I finally fucking did it!”

He chuckles into the phone, “Finally had sex, did you?” He jokes.

“I’ll have you know that I am far past that milestone, Dami. I finally dumped my duche of a boyfriend!”

She hears him let out a string of yells, very enthusiastically telling her how happy he is to finally hear that. He, and even the rest of the band, have been telling her to do it for months now. Not that they didn’t like the guy in the beginning, but after he stood her up on her birthday and she came home to him in bed with someone else, they’d had enough.

“Well, this deserves a celebration. Dinner tonight, Vic will bring wine, Ethan and I can cook, Thomas can pick up a cake!”

She laughs at his enthusiasm, but agrees nonetheless.

After hanging up the phone she heads into her room to get ready. It’s just dinner with her friends, but she’s in the mood to look good tonight, so she grabs out one of her favourite dresses and a pair of flats. She’s ready and out the door in under an hour, stopping to pick up some fresh flowers before making her way to Damiano’s apartment.

It’s a nice evening, not too hot and not too cold, the sun at that perfect spot in the sky. She feels good, not at all like how she thought she’d feel. She loved him, but she’s not sure she was in love with him, and she’s glad that she feels no sorrow for closing that chapter in her life.

She arrives at his apartment, shooting him a text to buzz her in and when she enters she’s immediately wrapped in Victoria's arms. “Ah, amore! So good to see you! Come in, let’s drink!”

She giggles at the greeting, always loving how enthusiastic Victoria is when they see each other. She graciously accepts a glass from Thomas, downing the sweet wine in almost one sip. He chuckles at her actions and refills her glass before she has a chance to put it down. She hears the sound of dishes in the kitchen and makes her way over to the two boys cooking. “Buonasera. It smells wonderful in here.”

She hops up on one of the counters, placing her glass beside her, and is met with a round of protests, “Counters are for glasses, not asses miss!” Ethan yells at her.

She giggles but stays put, pointing to her glass beside her, “Ah, but my glass is on the counter.”

He shoots her a glare, but she can see the laugh he’s trying to hide as he turns to continue cooking. Damiano comes to stand in between her legs, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting hug. “How are you mi amore? You okay?”

His voice has a hint of worry laced in it, but she nods her head. “It was a long time coming. I’d mentally done it, just hadn’t physically done it yet. I’ve felt single for months now, and he’s sure been acting like it for longer.”

Damiano moves so he’s standing beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulder, “Well, good riddance!”

She lets out a snort and the two boys begin to laugh, drawing the attention of the other two who walk into the kitchen a moment later.

The night flies by in a flurry of wine and laughter. They enjoy a lovely meal of pasta and chicken, the best salad she’s ever had and an array of cheeses and fruits. They catch each other up on all of the things that’s been going on in their personal lives, and a toast to new beginnings. Thomas brings out a lovely cake with the words “fuck romance” inscribed on top and they forgo dishing it out, everyone grabbing a fork and digging in.

It quickly turns into a drunken mess, Victoria tripping over Ethans legs and dropping cake into his hair. He in turn picks up some frosting and wipes it on her face. Thomas laughs and is met with a glob thrown at him. It’s utter chaos. She turns to get away before she can be brought into the food fight, but Damiano is quick to grab her around the waist and pull her back to the group, shoving a handful of the sweet dessert in her face.

Soon, they are all covered in frosting, giggling like mad men. The dining room is a mess and somehow there is pasta sticking to the walls, and when it’s pointed out they all burst into another fit of laughter. Ethan is quick to take on the roll of housekeeper, moving to the kitchen to collect the cleaning supplies. Victoria and Thomas follow him, clearing dishes and whipping down the walls. Damiano lets them be, knowing they’ll return his apartment to its previous state.

She watches for a moment, before disappearing down the hall to steal a quick shower, not wanting to walk home with frosting crusted in her hair. When she immerges, everything is back to the way it was when she arrived, but the rest of the band is missing. Damiano is lounging out on the balcony, a cigarette between his lips and a coffee beside him.

“Hey,” she says quietly.

“Hey. Wondered where you snuck off to.”

She smiles shyly, taking a seat beside him. “Wanted to rinse the cake out of my hair before I walked home.”

He nods at her, returning to taking small drags from his cigarette. He offers it to her and she graciously accepts it, letting the smoke envelope her lungs in a warm hug. She sighs into the night, knowing she should go home but not wanting to leave. He turns to look at her and it’s like he’s seeing her in a new light.

He’s always felt something towards the young girl, ever since they met back in school, but now it feels different. There’s a feeling brewing in his chest, something he can’t quite place. She turns to look at him then, catching him in his staring act. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Dami?”

“Too many things.”

She nods, knowing exactly what he means. Her head is filled with thoughts, too. There’s a cool breeze that floats around them, raising goosebumps on her arms. Damiano notices and moves to wrap his arms around her, rubbing his hands along her bare arms. They stand like that for a moment, his head buried in her neck, arms wrapped around her.

She’s sure he can hear the beating of her heart, a rapid thumping in her chest. She hasn’t been this close to him in a while, not with the freedom she has now. Ever so slowly, she turns around in his arms until she’s face-to-face with him. Their eyes lock and he leans his forehead down to be touching hers.It would only take a breath for her to be kissing him. Before the thought has even fully crossed her mind, he’s leaning in.

A soft brush of lips, a shot of electricity shooting through her at the contact. He pulls away first, one hand tangled in her hair, the other resting on her hip.

“I love you,” He whispers, and she’s never been more thankful that today isn’t yesterday.

[goldencuffs]

untraditional

@lamenweek day five: traditions

Damen doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel so bone-weary at thirty-one.

Everything in his body aches, and he’s already greying at his temples. Last night, he had gone to bed at eight.

Theomedes doesn’t look up from the Ios Financial Times when Damen enters the Drawing Room. The table already has been set: Damen’s seat is, as usual, is to the left of his father, exactly fourty-seven centimetres apart. Damen’s food has been already served, because his father got here before him, and everyone gets served the same time as Theomedes.

Damen’s entire life has been dictated by these traditions, guidelines and precedents.

Some of them are good, but most of them are like this: nonsensical and elitist.

Even Theomedes’ and Damianos’ tea is prepared via strict protocol: one teaspoon of loose tea leaves per cup, heated to a hundred degrees celcius (seventy for green tea), with a tablespoon of organic, raw honey added straight to the teapot.

(It’s amazing tea, though).

Theomedes says, “Your food is cold.”

Damen stares at the pile of mash potatoes and salmon. “I’m not hungry.”

He also hates salmon, but Theomedes is the only one who sets the menu for the week with the head chef. Last week, they had roast beef and vegetables four times.

“You’re not still sulking are you?” Theomedes finally says, three minutes later.

Damen grips his table fork. He forces himself to do the breathing exercises Makedon had taught him.

In an ideal world, he wouldn’t reply, but in this one, everyone answered to the King.

“No, sir,” Damen says, and shoves a polite bite of food in his mouth.

“You haven’t had a meal with me in three weeks,” Theomedes says, and he sounds hurt and disappointed.

“Hmm,” Damen says. “I’ve been busy. You know I’ve been working on the preservation of Marlas with Nikandros.”

Theomedes crosses his fork and knife over his plate. Instantly, three different staff members rush forward to clear the table.

Damen’s plate is cleared too; no one eats after the King has left. Another useless, bane tradition.

“You know I did what’s best for you,” Theomedes says, looming over Damen.

When Damen nods, Theomedes kisses his temple. “You’ll realise it sooner, rather than later.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen says quietly, and rises only after Theomedes has left, as is protocol.

*

An hour later, the itch under Damen’s skin becomes unbearable, and he finds himself burrowing under the left corner of his mattress for certain… supplies.

He pulls on the red, shoulder-length curly wig with little care, and then the faux-leather beret. It’s peeling and terrible, but Damen doesn’t care.

The rest of his outfit is just layers: sunglasses, two coats, scarves, and a muted shirt, to hide as much of his body as possible.

He normally doesn’t leave so early in the day, when he’s being patrolled by guards and the Kyros.

Luckily, it’s only Nikandros who catches him, right outside his door.

His expression is flat. “You’re not serious. You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of drafting the Delpha treaty!”

Damen shrugs. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to—” Nikandros cuts himself off with a sigh. “Whatever. Can you please bring me back those caramel slices?”

Damen grins. “You got it, boss.”

Once he’s past the Main Foyer, the rest of the journey is easy: Damen takes an hour and a half train ride from Central Ios to Andris, and then a fifteen minute bus ride on the eighty-six. And then finally, an eight minute walk to the Andris Office District.

There’s a small bookstore there called Pocket Bookmark, painted emerald green, the lettering done in gold.

Inside, it’s not too busy: it’s not quite the end of a business day, and the customers in here are high school students, skimming the Shakespeare section, and a man hovering near the new releases.

Damen keeps his head down, weaving through the aisles.

Nicaise, the mouthy teenage cashier rolls his eyes when he sees Damen approaching, lifting up the wooden flap on on the bench, allowing Damen to duck through.

“Thanks, kid,” Damen says, mussing his hair.

“Ah, fuck off,” Nicaise grunts, but fondly. He’s warmed up to Damen ever since Damen bought him his first car. (Nothing too flashy, obviously).

Damen hurries all the way to the back, opening the door marked, No entry, and then goes up the narrow steps, which always make the worst creaking noises.

There’s another door a the small porch upstairs, and Damen fishes out the key in his pocket to open it.

Instantly, he’s hit with the smell of butter chicken simmering on the stove, and his mouth salivates. He dumps his entire attire by the small settee in the hallway, inhaling gratefully.

The second thing he’s greeted with is Wendy, who meows and claws at his leg.

“Come here, baby,” Damen murmurs, picking her up and holding her to his chest. She purrs and curls up, like a big ball of fluff and he kisses her head. “I love you so much.”

She meows in response, and snuggles closer.

Laurent turns off the stove in the tiny kitchen. He looks over his shoulder for just a second and scrunches his nose. “Ugh, she’s such a slut. I’ve been petting her for the last hour, but apparently I’m just not good enough.”

Laurent is in his after work attire: which means he’s as half dressed as possible. The shirt he’s wearing is one of Damen’s, and his shorts are the pair that shrunk in the wash; they ride too high up his thigh.

Laurent’s just come out of the shower: the hair at his nape is still wet, and his skin is pinked and glowing. Even with the curry, Damen can smell jasmine and coconut.

Laurent has got this sweet, soft smile that lights up his eyes.

It takes Damen’s breath away: not just Laurent, but this entire picture of domesticity. It’s all Damen’s wanted his entire life.

He means to make a snarky comment about Wendy, but what comes out is: “Marry me.”

Laurent drops the wooden spoon, eyes wide.

Damen grips Wendy too tightly and she lets out a shriek and jumps out of his arms.

They stare at each other for a moment. Damen’s heart is racing.

Laurent blinks. “Oh, sorry. I think I hallucinated for a minute.”

Damen steps forward, smiling. “It wasn’t a hallucination. Marry me.”

Laurent makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He swallows, eyes darting all over Damen’s face, his body. “I don’t see a ring,” he says quietly.

Damen groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I know. I had this whole plan, I was going to propose with the Queen’s ring, but obviously I’d have to talk to my father first and—” He sits down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. “There’s a courthouse ten minutes from here. It’s Thursday night, so they’re still open. We just need to show up with a signed ‘Intended Marriage Certificate’. It’s like three pages, we’ll be fine.”

“…Oh.” Laurent has gone very still. “You’re looking up courthouses. You’re serious.”

“Shit,” Damen says, watching him. “I’m so sorry. You—Do you want to marry me, Laurent? Because I’ve been dying to marry you since I first saw you. Er. No pressure, though.”

Laurent glares at him, affronted. “Of course I want to marry you, you fucking idiot!”

Damen leaps to his feet, grinning and flushed. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go print this form and—”

“Damen!” Laurent laughs, looking a little crazed. “We can’t just—Just wait a minute.”

“Alright. Shoot, baby.”

Predictably, Laurent flushes pink. “Is it even legal? Aren’t there special ceremonies for royals? And—and the King still thinks we broke up!”

Damen winces a little at that.

After an entire year of sneaking around, of meeting up in discreet hotels, and making plans to move in together one day, Damen had fucked up three weeks ago.

Drunk and enamoured, he had kissed Laurent outside his bookstore after a date. There had been photos—and the only saving grace had been the fact that Laurent’s face had been inscrutable.

But the fact that he was a commoner had been enough for Theomedes to unleash his rage. He had ordered Damen to break things off with Laurent, and Damen had pretended to, but… Well, Laurent had been hurt. It had been the first time he had realised how shaky their entire relationship was, how quickly it could come crumbling down.

Damen had spent days convincing him otherwise, and Laurent had finally agreed, but there had still been shadows in his eyes.

Now—now, though, Damen realises exactly what he can do, what he should have done months ago, to make Laurent realise he’s it.

“Fuck the King,” Damen says. He finally closes the distance between them, gripping Laurent’s hands. “Laurent, listen. I can still get married legally in a civil ceremony.”

“But—” Laurent bites his lip. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. And,” His voice grows small. “I know there’s so many rules and traditions you have to follow. I’ve read about the whole tradition where your father is supposed to gift you a diptych piece.”

Damen’s heart is warm. He smiles down at Laurent, smitten. “You’ve read up on royal wedding traditions?”

Laurent colours even more. “Of course.”

Damen kisses him hard, unable to bare the love swelling up inside him. Laurent flings his arms around Damen’s neck, his mouth emitting small, sweet gasps.

When they pull apart, Damen presses his forehead to Laurent’s. “Fuck the King,” he repeats. “Fuck the customs and rules and traditions. You are the only thing that matters to me. Just forget everything for a moment and answer: do you want to go downtown and marry me?”

Laurent’s smile overtakes his face, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he says softly. “I want to—so much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you in a better way or give you a ring or—”

“Stop. This was absolutely perfect.” He sighs. “You’re perfect.”

Damen kisses him again, pressing him to the counter. “I want you to have my mother’s ring.”

Laurent buries his head into Damen’s chest, overwhelmed. He nods.

Damen drops a kiss to his hair. “Get changed, baby. We’re getting married.”

Laurent looks up at him in wonder. “We’re getting married.”

[slytherweasley]

Break up (Oliver Wood x reader)

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Oliver has been spending more time on quidditch and after many attempts of getting him back Y/n decides she has to do something about it.

Your boyfriend is the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. When you started dating you knew he’d be busy, you both made it work for a year but the past few months have been the worst. The first couple months you just assumed this wouldn’t last long but now you realise you haven’t spent any time with Oliver. The only time you see him is at night when he’s exhausted and falls asleep in your arms.

He has treated you the same, he’s still sweet and kind and always looking out for you but when you bring up his absence he always finds an excuse. You decided you’d try once more to get him to spend some time with you and only you.

At breakfast he was busy talking to Madam Hooch about the Quidditch game the past weekend. You had classes with him so you decided that’s when you would ask. In the last class of the day you decide to ask him. “Hey Oli” You whisper “Yes darling?” “Will you hang out with me tonight? You don’t have practise do you?” “Oh darling, I’m sorry I promised Madam Hooch I’d help some first years with extra flying practise.” “What about the weekend?” “I’m flooded with homework I haven’t done.” “Maybe we can do it together?” “You know I would love to but the professors have made everyone on the Quidditch team do it in the great hall since none of us have done much work.” “Is there any day that we can actually hang out together?” Oliver thinks, you can tell he’s actually thinking about it, his face drops. “I’m sor-“ Forget it” you get up and walk away as class is being dismissed.

You were heartbroken, he was volunteering for jobs when he could have used that time for the both of you to spend some time together, more than just a day of classes. You heard Oliver yelling your name from behind you in the crowded hallway but you didn’t dare to turn around. If he really cared he’d drop everything but he didn’t.

That night you didn’t wait for him in his dorm you went to your own. Around 11 that night there was loud knocking on the door it woke you and your dorm mates up. Your friend answers the door “Y/n it’s Oliver” you groan and get up. “What?” You cross your arms “I can’t sleep without you” “That’s why you woke up me and my dorm mates?” “Yes I’m sorry, I love you so much.” “No, I’m not sleeping with you. If you can’t sleep that’s your fault” “Please Y/n, I miss you” “No you don’t, you miss having someone who you can brag about with your friend and not spend any time with.” You shut the door and get back into bed, Oliver takes the hint and walks away.

“Wow, that was intense” one of your dorm mates says “I’m sorry he woke you all up, he won’t be back now.” You close your eyes and fall back asleep.

The next morning you sit down at breakfast and Oliver joins you, for once he’s not talking to his friends or Quidditch teammates. “Y/n, darling” he holds your hand “Oliver I’m not in the mood” he looks tired, like he’s only slept a few hours. I’m sorry for waking you up and your friends and I’m sorry for being so busy all the time. It’s hard to say no to people and I stress myself out and I know I haven’t seen you for hours, when you’ve sat in my dorm waiting for me for hours.” “Oliver I need time to think” “Think? Think about what?” “Think about if I want to be with you anymore” you see the hurt on his face. “Darling, I’m sorry, I really don’t want to break up, I love you so much.”

Oliver spends the afternoon at Quidditch practise and he skips dinner again because he’s so busy doing you don’t know what. You wait for him in his dorm again, his eyes light up when he sees you. “Hey gorgeous” “Oliver, I’ve decided” “What’s it going to be?” He asks cautiously. “We need to break up” he rushes over to your side “Please darling, I need you” “You don’t need me that much since you never spend time with me.” “What can I do to change your mind?” “Nothing, my mind is made up. Maybe you should’ve asked before it got to this” “I never meant for it to get this far, I am always thinking about you. I love you so much, my feelings haven’t changed.” “This isn’t easy or fun for me Oliver, I can’t be always waiting for you while you make plans and not hang out with me” you give him a hug “When you’ve got your life sorted I’ll think about it.”

As you walk out the door you hear his weeping. You go up to your dorm, your dorm mates are all getting ready for bed, you think you’ll be fine until you go to put on his hoodie. You hold it in your hands and tears fall down your cheek. Your dorm mates hug you and help you through it. It felt strange seeing Oliver sit with his friends and you sit with yours. He started sitting up the back of the classroom with his friends while you sat by yourself in some classes. You and Oliver were so in love with each other you chose the same classes just so you could be with each other all the time. Now it makes you regret that decision, he always looks sad when he enters the classroom with his friends and sees you.

It’s been a few weeks, you still aren’t over Oliver but you know you’d be feeling worse if you decided to forgive him. You sit in the common room by the fire and read your book, you overhear someone say Oliver’s name which obviously draws your attention. You realise it’s the Quidditch team talking, probably about practise so you go back to reading. “Ever since Y/n dumped him, he’s been so laidback at practise” Fred says “I know, I fucked up a lot and he said nothing, he just watched.” “Give him a break, I’d be sad too if my boyfriend broke up with me after almost a year and a half” Angelina says “I heard people are saying it’s his fault. Apparently he knocked on her door and yelled at her” “I heard that too, I can imagine Oliver getting mad but not at Y/n.” “He’s been crying ever since, I feel bad but we can’t do anything about it.”

You hated that people were making up rumours and talking about it like it didn’t hurt both of you, people assumed since you broke up with him you’re fine. You stand up and walk away “Did anyone see her there?” You hear someone say as you walk away. More and more you started to notice Oliver was hanging out with friends in the common room. Until he would be there a lot, even after quidditch practise and he would eat dinner every day too. You were happy he started to hang out with his friends again because he was almost never seeing them.

Some of your friends have started dating Oliver’s friends. You and Oliver introduced them to each other when you started dating and now some of them are actually dating. They don’t hang out when you’re both around, they’re being nice but since you’re always with them and Oliver is always with his friends. They never hang out as a group. “I’ll go upstairs so you guys can go talk to your boyfriends” “No, stay. We will feel bad if you’re there alone” “I’ll sit by the fire and read my book then” “Y/n we don’t always have to hang out with them.” “I want to read anyway.”

Your friend Amelia comes up with you to your dorm to get your book. “You know, they are saying Oliver is doing better, I think you guys should talk again, even if you don’t want to get back together” “Maybe.” You search through your pile of books and find the one you want to read. “I’m just saying, I think he’s done a lot to try to win you back so maybe if he does talk to you, be gentle.” “I’m not going to be rude, I miss him a lot” you walk back to the common room with her and see Oliver talking to your friends. She gives you a side hug before walking over to the group of friends. You sit with your back up against the couch near the fire. It was late so no one claimed the couch.

You read a few pages before someone sits beside you. You turn to see Oliver “Hi” he smiles “Hi” you smile back. “Sorry for bothering you, I know how you don’t like being bothered when you’re alone but I was hoping we could talk.” “Yeah we can talk” “How have you been?” “Not great but alright considering everything, How about you?” “About the same. I really am sorry” “I’ve heard it a few times, Oliver” “Sorry- just I don’t know what I’m supposed to say without it being weird” “Say whatever you’d like I’m not going to judge you.” “Well at first I was really upset then I decided I’d have to do something about it if I wanted you back. What I’m trying to say is, I have tried really hard to be like I used to but better. I’m not doing any extra jobs for anyone and I am focusing on making my team ready for this Quidditch season.” “I’m happy for you Oliver, I can’t say I’ve been doing much different.”

“What can I do to get you back?” “Just show me that you’ve changed. Maybe we can start hanging out again” “Thank you Y/n.”

[neo-culture-mafia]

x메신저를 쏘지 마십시오x

previous chapter

Sungchan

Jeno broke roughly in the middle of the barren road. "What?" His eyes were squinted in anger, yet, still focused on the paved road in front of him. A thud was heard as Jisung's body fell to the floor of the van. "What the hell was that fo-" I had no time to think as Jeno's fist was looped around my collar, pulling me closer to his face.

"Look me in the eyes," he demanded, "and say that shit one more time." his lips were curled into a sinister look as the whole car took on a new atmosphere.

"Yuta. He gave Taeyong the idea to sell Neo Culture." I said in a pseudo-confident persona. A new face was added to the huddle as Jisung now stared me down like I was the enemy.

Jeno's hands reached for my stomach, the handcuffs I was provided now laying around the headrest and my wrist in a matter of seconds.

"Wai-" I tried to fight it, "Ji-" "Already on it." Jisung's hand cocked a gun and now aimed it right in-between my eyes. The cool metal sent a shiver down my spine as I was saying my final blessings.

"Start. Talking." New confidence found Jisung as he had lost all time and patience for anyone's bullshit.

"Yuta. He had met with Taeyong when Seven Stars had first started getting stronger. 2 years ago." I answered and I could tell Jeno was taking mental notes. "Yuta had given the idea that in order to avoid conflict-- maybe we should sell ourselves to them." I took a deep breath, "if you can't beat them-- join them, am I right?" I laughed but their stone-cold demeanor left them unfazed. "Tough crowd, okay, uh-" "no time for jokes, Sungchan." Jeno reminded and I shook my head trying to let any happiness shake away from my body, "you're right. Sorry." I nodded.

"Well, once we would've been apart of Seven Stars we would've taken them down from the inside. Ultimately 'en-slaving' them-" "Don't use that word." Jisung shook his head sadly, "we're not that type of people." Jisung released the round into his hand and putting the gun by his leg, hand running through his messy hair.  

I looked to Jeno and he only had hurt in his eyes-- no more anger. "But, we just sat back and let it happen to us." Jeno sighed, pulling the car to the side of the road so we were out of the middle of it. He had removed the keys and set them in the cup-holder.

"Well. Supposedly, Taeyong had thought it was a great idea. Yuta was the one that pulled out of it first." I explained, remembering the things I had witnessed first-hand. "Yuta thought of the outlier outcomes: What if it doesn't go as planned and we get hurt, en-slaved-" Jisung's head snapped up to me and gave me a look that wasn't short of 'killer', "sorry. Or getting split up." I motioned my head around to draw attention to our current situation.

"Then?" Jeno asked lowly, staring at the steering wheel lost in thought. "Then Taeyong couldn't be talked down. It was all supposed to happen the night that you all were captured in the warehouse." That had caught Jeno's attention. "The one where-" "where Taeyong missed the biggest outlier of them all." I nodded my head. "Mark."

It was if Jeno was frozen in time. "That's why Taeyong was so pissed. Mark had forfeited the peaceful surrender of the family." I pieced it together for Jisung who sat behind us in a state of disbelief. "That's the reason they both told the rest of the family to not come and save them no matter what happened." I continued, "He knew that you all were too strong-headed to listen to order at least 48 hours after they hadn't come home. Essentially-" "letting us walk into a trap once we did show up." Jeno got excited as he was finally piecing everything together.

"Seven Stars didn't expect you all to come there guns blazing. You had set up a rescue mission that translated into a death sentence for your leader." I stated the obvious at this point.

"What else do you know?" Jeno's head lolled to the side, his eyes staring up at me through his eyelashes. "...everything..." I smiled and he grabbed the seat rest and pulled it up, essentially releasing me from the close-proximity holder.

“You let me tell you the whole story of the mission-gone-wrong when you actually knew the whole time?” Jeno asked me with a disgusted look where I could only shrug, “it was nice seeing your point of view.” I smiled as he scoffed and looked out of the window, his gaze falling to his steering wheel.

I just there silently, waiting for anything to happen really: Questions, anger, tears, a gun being put to my head...anything.

I looked to Jeno was still lost in thought as he was staring at the steering wheel. I looked back to Jisung who just sat in defeat...no life in his face. "What's wrong, Jisung?" I asked quietly, "I'm..." he was trying to form a sentence that got the attention of Jeno in the front seat, who ultimately turned around to look at his younger friend, "I'm angry." Jisung nodded...very nonchalantly. "You have every right to be-" "That asshole took everything from us." His hands were balled in fists by his lap, "He took my family from me." Jisung seethed in a fit of quiet anger.

"My best friends flung themselves from a building because of that-" he shook his head, breaths getting faster, "that," he continued, "Jisung it's okay to be angry." Jeno reinstated, "That selfish fucking prick." Jisung said calmly, tears pricking the sides of his eyes.

"Jwi, we talked about this. If you keep substituting anger with sadness then you won't be able to control yourself when you finally let the anger go." Jeno sighed as only a few tears fell from Jisung's onyx-like eyes.

Jisung didn't say anything as he only crawled back to the blanket that abstractly laid on the floor near the back doors. "Can we just go?" Jisung mumbled, wrapping himself in the blanket and leaned against the back door so he could look back on what he was leaving behind, "I want Mark and y/n, now."

"Of course." Jeno started the vehicle once more and pulled back onto the barren roads. I looked back to see Jisung silently struggling to keep his cries quiet.

We drove for what felt like ever through farmland. "I need to get gas," Jeno instructed and pulled over to the nearest gas station. He got out after checking on Jisung through the rearview mirror-- hasn't changed positions from against the back door.

I made the older-brother decision to maneuver myself to the back of the van, sitting across from Jisung who had a dead-set gaze out of the window.

"Are you okay, Jisung-ah?" I asked calmly and I could see his eyes roll. "I'm so tired of people asking me that." He confessed and repositioned himself so he was farther away from me. "It's because we care-" "Don't you dare tell me you care," Jisung sat up quickly, our eyes being on the same level, "you were one of the main people who put me through pain in that damn base," Jisung pointed his finger in my face. "You were the one who walked me to the b-" I watched in pain as Jisung's lip started to quiver, his eyes holding hatred.

"-to the buyers." he choked out, tears shooting out of both eyes. Guilt settled in my chest as I couldn't look him in his eyes, "You did bad and good to us all. Now-now that you reveal yourself, we're supp-supposed to fall to your-your feet like you're a fucking god?" Jisung was letting his anger seep out in the cold hard truth, "I love you because you're family." He continued, wrapping himself into his blanket, setting himself into the corner, "but that doesn't mean I have to like you." he deadpanned and I had to accept this as the truth...because it was.

I looked over to my bag that sat behind my seat. I grabbed it and pulled it into my lap. "I--" I blinked, the wetness of my own eyes taking me off-guard. "I brought some snacks and some drinks." I pulled some out and set it next to his crumpled up frame, "I also have your glasses and anxiety medication." I held it out as he forcefully snatched it from my hands, "probably put rat pellets in it." I heard him mutter to himself, yet, I let it slide-- he was hurting and just had a bombshell of information dumped on him moments before. He was drowning in his own thoughts.

"I also heard you like rock music. So I've been downloading music for the past couple of months to show you- I also have earbuds if you wanted to listen privately. If not, I can play it on an auxiliary cord-" "Jeno hates rock music." Jisung cut me off, but looked at me for a moment. Well...looking at the phone. I knew he wanted it but didn't want to eat from the hand of the newly-ruled out "enemy".

"I'll just leave it here if you want it. The phone is yours, actually. The passcode is 2002."

I set it next to the juice I had gotten for him, "and the earbuds are right next to it." I quickly placed them and left back to my seat just in time for Jeno to come back in and take his own place behind the wheel.

"Next stop-- Mark's and y/n's." Jeno was smiling again. Even if he just found out that his power-hungry leader was going to sell him, he's still excited to see his best friend, his brother.

I looked back to see Jisung scrolling through the phone with the earbuds shoved in his ears. Rhythmic foot taps had Jeno curious as he was trying to see what his younger friend was doing. He had caught a glimpse of the phone and looked to me, "It's his. I had gotten him some rock music to listen to." I said and Jeno apprehensively nodded as he shifted the car into drive, "thanks, Sungchan." He looked back to see Jisung smiling in what felt like forever. He was going to let Jisung have his music...it's the least he could have.

~~~ It was way past 12 am when we rolled up to the farmhouse where Mark and y/n had been staying...even Donghyuck was in there...but I wasn't going to tell them I knew that. They would've kicked me out of the car miles ago. They would have to find out for themselves.

"Here, you stay in here and we'll go in and..." Jeno was so smiley to realize he looked like a mess. Tousled blonde hair and a blood-splattered face from hours before. I didn't want to be the one to kill his vibe though.

"Go get 'em." I smiled and they both hopped out of the van and met in front where they talked for a moment before pulling out their guns and running in different directions towards the house.

I watched with a smile as I pulled out my own phone, pulling up the familiar contact and pressing 'call'. The ringing in my ear calmed my nerves as the receiver was picked up. "Hello."

"Commence phase 3 of the plan. Tell Yuta that they were delivered safely and to get the rest of the neo-cultures to the head base." I smiled as I could hear Shotaro's excitement over the phone.

"Will do. Talk to you soon."

And with that, I was alone.

[astralaffairs]

Request: "Hey babe it's been a shitty day, so plz make it better by responding to this. Alright so hear me out: we've all seen the memes, so we know how ppl would react to finding out about fotp thom and mc, but remind me, do we know how Alex reacted???? Lmao there would be such chaos"

___________

"You and Jefferson are dating?" Though Alex's yell was muffled through the phone, his tone was unmistakable, and Y/N cringed at the shrill undertone beneath his fury. "When did this start? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react exactly how you are now," she said, "and, frankly, it's none of your business who I date."

"You know how long I've hated him for, Y/N," Alex snapped, and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't pick my boyfriends with your career in mind."

"But he's wrong for you," he huffed. "He's gonna prove that to you soon enough, too. He'll start treating you like shit the minute he gets whatever he needs from you."

"And what, exactly, is he trying to get from me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You've been his biggest critic in the media this entire time. He's just trying to shut you up."

"Our relationship hasn't exactly been much of a career-booster for him, either, in case you hadn't noticed," she pointed out, but he only scoffed.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He can just ride on his fucking trust fund for as long as he wants, but what about your career? You need the money."

"I still have a job, y'know. I'm just not covering domestic politics anymore."

"I knew it was suspicious when you changed departments," he muttered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "I'm coming over. We need to talk about this."

"What?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise. "No, you can't; I have Thomas here with me."

"Too bad. I'm already outside."

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"I left home the minute I saw you on his Instagram."

Y/N grinned, holding her phone against her chest as she looked up at Thomas. "Aw, babe, he follows your Instagram."

He snickered. "Tell him I'm flattered."

"It's disgusting hearing you call him that." Alex's reaction was loud and visceral enough that she could hear it even before she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Then I guess you're really gonna hate hearing our wedding vows, huh?"

"'Wedding vows'?" Thomas repeated as he raised a teasing eyebrow, folding his arms. She only shushed him, though a small smile played at her lips.

"Your what?" Alex's reaction was to a similar end, but it had a very different tone. "No. No way. This is where I draw the line. I swear to god, Y/N, if you marry him, there's no way I'm coming to your wedding."

"That's really too bad. I'm sure he'll be disappointed to hear it," Y/N said, and the sadness in her voice was mocking.

"As though he's gonna be invited when we get married," Thomas grumbled. It was her turn, then, to raise an eyebrow.

"'When'?"

He shrugged, but his grin was broad. "After you lemme know your ring size, at least."

"Isn't it a bit presumptuous of you to think I'm going to say 'yes'?"

"Don't tell me you'd really be willin' to start from square one with somebody else after everything we've been through, sweetheart," he replied matter-of-factly. "The only real question is when I propose."

"Don't get ahead of yourself just yet, Jefferson."

"I'm still here!" Alex's shout pulled her back to the phone call she was still on; she rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget?"

"Let me into your flat," he said, and Y/N looked to Thomas with wide eyes when they could hear his loud footsteps in the hallway outside.

"How'd you get up here?"

"Mira let me in."

"God, she needs to stop doing that," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Open the door."

She jumped when the sound of him banging on it echoed through her front room. "Alex—" When she regained her bearings, returned to her call, she realized she was talking to a dial tone.

"Unlock this, Y/N." His impatient voice came through the apartment door, that time, muffled, but her head shot up at the sound.

"You need to leave," she insisted. Though Thomas wore a deep-seated frown, neither she nor he moved to get the door. "I don't wanna hear your lecture on how Thomas is gonna ruin my life."

"But he is!"

Thomas rolled his eyes as he stood, and Y/N's eyebrows shot up when she watched him start toward the door. "Wait, at least let me get it," she called after him, but he didn't stop. She stood with a huff to follow him.

He unlocked it. "What d'you want?"

Y/N winced visibly when he opened the door for Alex before she could reach it, and Thomas leaned on one arm against the door frame, towering over him with an impatient eyebrow raised. Alex scowled, undeterred.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Jefferson?" he hissed. "You're really gonna toy with Y/N like this? And for what? If you're trying to get at me, at least do it directly."

The laugh Thomas let out was mirthless, condescending. "You really can't wrap your head around the idea that something isn't about you, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you've always been this self-centered."

"If it isn't about me, then what the hell is your game?" he asked, taking a step closer, but despite Alex's harsh glare, Thomas raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"D'you really think there's no way my intentions are genuine? You think Y/N's that unloveable?" he asked. "That's vicious, even for you."

"I didn't say that she—!"

"Must you two do this right now?" Y/N asked, exasperation heavy in her voice. When Thomas turned to look at her, Alex pushed past him.

"Y/N, I'm just trying to save you from him; don't you see that? He—" Alex froze, his gaze fixed over Y/N's shoulder. "Wait. Why are there so many boxes here? And why is your apartment so empty?"

"I'm moving out," she answered bluntly. He raised a wary eyebrow.

"...and going where?"

"Thomas's place."

"You're moving in together?" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "What the hell are you thinking? Has it even been two weeks since you got together?"

"I mean, officially, it's been a month," she said reasonably, "but, really, we've been fucking for almost a year."

"A year?" Alex repeated. "What the hell, Y/N? What were you thinking?"

"Well, whatever I was thinking, it looks like I'm still thinking it." She shrugged. "Or, y'know, maybe I just couldn't make rent, so I started sleeping with a rich guy. I'm trying to be thrifty."

She could hear Thomas snickering at that, but Alex looked beyond appalled. "You couldn't have gone back to sleeping with Lafayette?" —Thomas scowled— "C'mon, I know how much you like him. You didn't have to sacrifice your morals in order to sleep with him, either, unlike you do with Jefferson."

Thomas's glare was burning, and Y/N huffed. "I was never sleeping with Lafayette."

Alex furrowed his brow. "You weren't?"

"No, I—"

"She was sleepin' with me." Y/N’s skin jumped at the feeling of Thomas's arm around her waist, pulling her close as walked up beside her. Alex's eyes widened. "So fuck off, Hamilton. You can't do anything about this. 'S too late."

She couldn't tell whether it was horror or fury that shone in his wide eyes. "Y/N, you've gotta end this. He's awful and manipulative and narcissistic. Don't listen to what he's saying; it isn't too late to get rid of him."

"Is it too late to get rid of you?" she grumbled, and Alex narrowed his eyes.

"I just want the best for you."

"I don't need you telling me what's best for me," she said impatiently. "Either sit down and make peace with him, or leave. You can't just talk me out of this."

"If you wait any longer, it will be too late."

"Too late for what?" she asked. "What the hell do you think is gonna happen? He's gonna kill me in my sleep?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," he said, scowling, and she rolled her eyes.

"Thomas?" she said, turning to him.

"Hm?"

"Are you planning on killing me in my sleep?"

His mild expression didn't change when he answered, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Mmh, thanks for confirming." She turned back to Alex. "Looks like you were right. Thanks for the warning; you can go now."

"Don't just dismiss this!"

"What were you expecting? I was just going to dump him on the spot when you showed up here?" she asked, and Alex huffed, folding his arms.

"If you had any common sense, that's exactly what you'd do," he said seriously. "He manipulates people, Y/N; that's what he does! And that's what he's doing to you. Don't get attached."

"Alex—"

"Listen, Hamilton." Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose as Thomas released her waist, stepped in front of her. He stood dangerously close to Alex, who didn't move so much as a millimeter away. His expression was cold but deadpanned. "I know we've got a lotta issues. That isn't some secret. But it's not your place to try and ruin my relationship, alright? You don't see me bustin' into your house, tryin' to convince your wife to leave you."

"Are you really comparing your little fling with Y/N to my marriage?"

"Little fling?" Y/N repeated incredulously, but both men ignored her. Thomas shrugged, still staring Alex down.

"I don't see why not. You heard us talkin' about gettin' engaged when you were on the phone, didn't you?"

"No way you're actually getting married," Alex scoffed. He turned to Y/N. "You're not really gonna marry him, are you?"

"I..." When she trailed off, Thomas raised an expectant eyebrow. "I'm not having this conversation right now. I'm not about to get engaged under duress."

"See?" When Alex turned to Thomas, she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not siding with you. I love Thomas, but you can't come here and bully us into getting engaged."

At that, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Hang on, you love him now?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She groaned, rubbing her temples. "You were more willing to believe that we were were getting married than that we've already said 'I love you'? I told you we've been... sort-of together for almost a year."

"Please. This won't last." He turned back on Thomas. "Y/N's never been in a relationship for more than four months. Now that you're official," —the final word was sneered— "the clock is ticking." Alex's eyes shone with vindication when Thomas raised an eyebrow; the concern in his eyes was genuine, and his gaze flickered back to Y/N. "Yeah, that's right. Don't get comfortable. It's only a matter of time before she leaves you, too."

"Will you shut up, Alex?" She looked more frustrated than anything, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "The history you two have doesn't extend to me. I know you hate Thomas. And I also don't care. It doesn't give you the right to talk to him like that, and it absolutely doesn't give you the right to talk about me like that."

"You're just pissed because I'm right."

"No, I'm not! I just fucking hate that—" Y/N cut herself off with a shuddering breath when she heard her own voice beginning to raise. Thomas squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and she felt her tense muscles ease as she looked up at him gratefully. She turned back to Alex. "Y'know what? I want you out of my apartment. I don't have to take this from you. Especially not in my own home."

"You needed to hear it," he warned. "Someone needed to say it before this ends in disaster."

"I don't care what you think, right now. I want you to leave." Her firm tone left no room for negotiation, and although Alex glared up at Thomas, he didn't argue.

"Fine. But when he breaks your heart, you're going to regret not listening to me."

"I think I'll survive," she replied dryly. While she was watching him expectantly, he was still eyeing Thomas, and when he spoke, he disregarded her words.

"I still don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, Jefferson, but I'm not letting you get away with it," he snarled. "I can see right through you, and it's only a matter of time until Y/N does, too."

Thomas licked his lips, his jaw tight and shoulders tense. Although his expression bordered on nonchalance, his tone was threatening. "Believe whatever the hell you want, but if you really think for a second that I'm about to let you drag Y/N into your plot to ruin my life, you've got another thing coming," he said, voice low. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I seem to remember hearin' her ask you to leave."

Alex's narrowed eyes darted between Thomas and Y/N, but after several moments, he just scoffed, meeting Y/N's gaze. "When he starts treating you like shit, don't act like no one warned you it was coming."

She hummed noncommittally. "You'll be the first person I call, just so you can say, 'I told you so.'"

Though he rolled his eyes, he left without another word, slamming the door shut behind him, and Y/N let out a sigh of relief, raking a hand through her hair. "Well, he could've taken that worse."

"I dunno, sweetheart; that was pretty bad," Thomas said, and despite the skepticism in his tone, she shook her head.

"No, Alex has thrown much bigger tantrums about much smaller things," she said, "I'm pretty sure he just got most of his energy out on the car ride here."

"I’ll take your word for it, but..." Thomas trailed off, seeming to have thought better of what he was about to say, and she turned to him with her brow furrowed.

"What, was this seriously the angriest you've ever seen him?"

"Not by far." She eyed him warily when he pursed his lips. "But... what was he sayin' about none of your relationships lastin' more than four months? Was that all true?"

Her eyebrows jumped at the worry that flickered in his eyes. When she stepped forward, laid a hand on his chest, he didn't pull away, and she took that as permission enough to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, to pull him close. "You know he was just trying to get a rise out of you, right? He just wants you to feel insecure in our relationship."

"But was it true?" he asked. "You really never been with the same person for more than a couple months?"

"That has nothing to do with us."

"Answer me." He was looking down at her with severity in his gaze, and she frowned.

"Yeah. It's true." Her eyes dropped away from his as she played with the curls at the back of his neck. "Does that really change the way you look at me?"

"It changes the way I see us, if 'm honest," he murmured, and Y/N brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin.

"It shouldn't. None of my relationships lasted because I didn't love any of the people I dated. But I love you, Thomas," she said seriously. "Do you know that you're the first person I've said ever that to? Family and friends aside, of course."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She pushed herself onto her toes to kiss him lightly. "And I mean it. I've always been terrified of commitment, but... being with you doesn't scare me."

"God, I should hope not," he said, a trace of a laugh buried in his voice. "If you were scared, 'm pretty sure I'd be doin' something wrong."

"Well, in all honesty, I was an anxious wreck the first time I told you I loved you," she admitted. "I was almost hoping you'd outright reject me so that I'd have to move on."

His grin was broad. "So, what I'm hearin' is that I oughta stop makin' jokes about marriage?"

"Only if you don’t want me running for the hills," she said, but her tone was playful. "In all seriousness, if you were anybody else, I'd have started packing my bags the minute you asked me for my ring size. There’s a reason I’m still here."

"Good." He leaned down to bump his nose against hers. "'Cause I do wanna marry you. Doesn't matter to me when it happens, but I'm gonna get a ring on your finger if it's the last thing I do."

She grinned. "Go right ahead." When he kissed her, she pulled him tighter against herself and he wrapped his arms snug around her waist. "Guess I'm gonna have to call the jeweler, now," she murmured against his lips. "Gotta see when's the next time they can get me in so I can get sized for a ring."

"Who said I was the one proposing?" Thomas asked incredulously, and Y/N pulled away just enough to look him in the eye.

"Me. You're the one with all the money."

"Now, this doesn't seem quite fair."

She laughed. "Listen, when a million-dollar trust fund falls into my lap, I'll be more than happy to buy the engagement rings. But until then, the burden's on you and your inheritance, Jefferson."

"'N that's a burden I'm more than willing to take on, sweetheart," he said. "The minute I get your ring size, the trust fund'll take care of the rest."

"The minute you get it?"

"If that's what you want."

"Not so fast, Jefferson." She rested a hand on his chest. "Try living with me for a few months, and then we can revisit."

"I'm holdin' you to that."

[enamoured-x]

My Angel

This story is based on a request from @briannab1234​ , thanks for letting me take your request into a different direction! I hope you enjoy it! (gifs not mine)

Excerpt: “You felt nothing hearing those words. Absolutely nothing. But you felt everything when Angel said them, when he whispered them to you at one in the morning after making love to you all night; when he’d yell them at you from across the junkyard on your way out; when he’d mumble them against your lips when he couldn’t draw his mouth away from yours but he needed to get them out.”

Warnings: Cheating, angst, mentions of violence

It was a regular Tuesday evening for you, you were currently grocery shopping for dinner tonight. You tried your hand at cooking different meals every other day and you knew Rio was loving being your guinea pig. You also kind of liked the domesticity of it all, him coming home to your shared apartment to you cooking dinner. It was nice and it made you think about the future when you’d possibly have a family with him. You loved Marcus like your own but you couldn’t wait to add to the family. You loved Rio and the two years you had been together were the best years of your life. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and you couldn’t wait. You both had talked about marriage, about kids, and you two were on the same page. Only making it that much more exciting. 

You smiled to yourself as you gathered the vegetables you needed. Rio had that effect on you. You pushed your cart as you looked at the produce and suddenly you were crashing into another cart. You pulled back right away. Later on you’d realize that the crash would stand as a sort of symbol, how your world came crashing down. 

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologized as you looked at the red headed woman in front of you. She smiled. 

“My fault.” She said. Beth felt slightly bad for what she was about to do but her jealousy got the best of her. What did you have that she didn’t? She was giving Rio everything yet he still went home to you. Still wanted you. 

“You’re dating Rio, right?” You were confused at her words. You had never seen this woman in your life, how did she know about Rio? Who was she? You prayed that she wasn’t with the feds. 

“Excuse me?” You asked.

“I mean, aren’t you? I’m just asking because I thought he dumped you.” Anger stirred within you. Who the hell did she think she was?

“No, me and Rio are still together. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you try to maneuver around her cart but she shoved her cart into yours again. Your mouth dropped open. Before you could say anything she started talking. 

“Really? Honey, he’s been keeping my bed warm for a while now. Kinda thought he’d break it to you.” You scoffed. Why would Rio ever touch her? Sure she had big boobs but she looked almost ten years older than him and judging by the food in her cart, she was most definitely a mom. 

“I think you have me confused.” She definitely had the wrong Rio, you felt bad for the poor girl who was her actual target. Cheating was disgusting. 

“No, I don’t. You know, Rio with the eagle tattoo on his neck? Rio with a son named Marcus?” She was taunting you. It was your Rio. Well she was describing him. She couldn’t be serious about Rio actually sleeping with her. There was no way. But then why did your gut sink just a little bit?

“You’re lying.” You hated that you sounded skeptical. Rio would never cheat on you. 

“I wish I was. Well, actually I don’t. No one’s ever taken me the way he does.” She bit her lip as she looked deep in thought. You grounded your teeth together. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what game you’re playing at but I want no part in it.” You moved around her but she didn’t stop you this time. 

“It’s no game. Ask him where he was two nights ago. Probably made some excuse about taking care of business when he got home late. He was actually taking care of me.” Your heart rate spiked when you thought back to two days ago on Sunday when he came home late. You didn’t think anything of it though, he was always coming and going all kinds of hours because of business. 

“If you still don’t believe me, then how do I know about the scar on his right thigh? Or the tattoo on his stomach?” Your breath hitched at that. There was no way she could know about those unless he was naked in front of her. It was dead of winter, it’s not like Rio was at the damn swimming pool, showing off everything. 

“Ask him. Ask him about Beth, and then send him my way for more fun.” Is all she said before she took off. You stood there frozen, not wanting to believe what you just heard. She had to be messing with you, right? There had to be another way that she knew those things. You took your hands off the cart as you realized they were shaking. You squeezed them into fists and then walked away and out of the store, leaving your cart behind. 

The whole drive home your brain was running through every detail of what she said and every conversation you’ve had with Rio recently. You didn’t know what to even look for. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But she seemed so smug, so confident. Why else would she demand you ask him so many times if he really wasn’t seeing her? You felt your heart crack at the thought, at the possibility that maybe she wasn’t lying. And you had to know now. 

You pulled into your apartment complex and walked into the building and straight to your door. Your heart was pounding. It can’t be true. There was no way. You and Rio were good, you and Rio were in love. You took a deep breath before entering. He was sitting down on the couch, phone in his hand. He looked up when you walked in and smiled at you. And then he stood up, confusion taking over his features as he walked over to you. 

“Mama? I thought you went to get groceries? What’s wrong?” You knew he could see right through you. He knew something was wrong because he knew you so well. 

“I…” You didn’t even know what to say. He waited for you to speak though. 

You swallowed hard, “who’s Beth?” Coming right out with it. You felt your resolve breaking piece by piece as worry took over his expression briefly before he furrowed his brows. 

“Who?” You could tell he was lying. Oh, god. Oh, god, she wasn’t lying. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Rio. Who the hell is Beth?” You crossed your arms. You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

He sighed, “she’s just some woman I’ve been doing business with.” 

“Then why deny knowing her.” You were going to see him play this one out. 

“I don’t know.” The fact that he couldn’t even come up with an excuse hit you in your gut. 

“No, you denied it because you’ve been screwing her.” Venom laced in your voice. He shook his head, mouth gaping. 

“What? No, that’s… I…” Tears sprung to your eyes. You were sure they were going to fall any minute. 

“Speak up. Be a fucking man and own up to it.” Your bottom lip shook as you waited. You needed to hear it. You needed to hear it because as much as this conversation was a dead giveaway, you still held on to an inkling of hope. 

“Mama, please…” A tear escaped and he cursed. He tried to pull you into him but you shoved him away. His eyes widened.

“Do not fucking touch me. Did you fucking sleep with her? Yes or no?” 

“...yes, but it didn’t mean anything. She means nothing to me. I love you.” It felt like he had been holding your heart in his hand this whole time, and hearing him say those words, it felt like he was squeezing your heart between his fingers, squeezing so tight you were sure it was going to give out. You covered your mouth as you tried to control your breathing. Everything felt like it was falling apart. That future you so desperately wanted with Rio? You couldn’t see it anymore, couldn’t see past this. 

“How long?”

“Mama, don’t–”

“How fucking long, Rio?” The way he looked at you, told you enough but he looked down at the ground. 

“Two months.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks, you swiped at them but they still kept coming. The anger that rolled through you, the embarrassment, the deep deep grief, it was all just one big tidal wave, catching you in its current, dragging you under. You couldn't breathe. 

“Where?” His eyes were now sparkling with tears. Fuck him. He did this, he didn’t get to be upset. 

“At her house, at–” 

“Here?” If he brought her into your home… If he brought her into your bed… 

“No, fuck no. Of course not.” You scoffed. He has no problem fucking other women but bringing them to your apartment is where he drew the line. You felt sick.

“How many times?” You were only hurting yourself. But you needed to know. 

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry–”

“How many fucking times, Rio?” Two months, how many times out of those two months was he fucking her? How many times did he fuck her while he also came home and fucked you? Yeah, you were going to be sick. 

“I don’t know, a few times a week.” For two fucking months. These past two months when you were still on cloud nine with him. When you were still fucking almost everyday because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. When you told him you loved him numerous times a day. When you gave him all of you. He was fucking another woman. 

“You’re a piece of shit. God, you’re the fucking worst. How could you? Did I not love you? Did I not fuck you enough? Did I not make you happy?” Tears were sliding down his face now. He shook his head and tried to step closer to you but you stepped back. 

“No, no! You do! God, baby, you do. I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes and–”

“Don’t you dare say you love me.” Your tone was ice cold and Rio looked like he had been struck. 

“I do! I swear to God I do. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t, mamas. I regret it. I shouldn’t have done it. I love you! Please, you have to know that. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake is when you do something wrong once and then correct it the next time. You’ve been fucking her for two months, Rio.” He shook his head, running his hand down his face. 

“Did you use protection?” You asked as soon as the thought hit you. Not only was he breaking your heart but he was putting you at risk. 

“Yes! I mean there was one time we didn’t but after that…” You were done. His words solidified everything. The fact that they didn’t use protection one time and then made a plan to use it the next time. Like they liked it so much but wanted to make sure they were being safe about it. It showed you that he wanted to do it, there was no regret or mistake about it. You cursed yourself for imagining him coming inside her and then agreeing to use protection next time. It was all planned, he knew what he was doing and he didn’t care. 

“I hope you rot in hell.” Is all you said before turning on your heel and walking toward your bedroom. You felt him hot on your tail.

“Please! I swear it didn’t mean anything!” You weren’t listening to him anymore. It was the same shit he had been saying already and it didn’t mean anything to you. You grabbed your gym bag and started stuffing what you could fit into it. This was the worst part, the fact that you were living with him. You had nowhere else to go besides friends.

“Wait. No, no, no. Please stop. Don’t do this.” He shook his head as he watched you. You still ignored him. You tried to think of who you were going to stay with. You grabbed stuff you’d need from the bathroom cabinet and grabbed all your electronics and chargers. You’d come back for the rest later, you just needed to leave now. He kept rambling on and on but you tuned it out. Then he took your arm in his hand and you turned back. You ripped it out of his grasp. 

“I told you not to fucking touch me! Get the fuck away from me, Rio, or I swear to god…” You shook your head. Tears were still silently falling down your cheeks but Rio was almost full on sobbing. 

“You do not get to fucking cry. You made your bed, now fucking lay in it.” You said as you finally zipped up your bag and carried it out the room. He followed you again. 

“Don’t do this, mama. I can fix this. Please! I swear it won’t happen again.” He begged. 

“Goodbye, Rio. I’ll be over to get the rest of my stuff this week.” Your voice soft, defeated. He kept pleading with you as you walked out the door, but you never turned back.

Four months later

Rio was a wreck. Every damn day dragged on and he didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Four fucking months since you left him and he was still in a rut. He handled his business but everyone could tell he was off. He was even more snappy and a lot tougher on people than he used to be. Everyday it was different, he’d be so damn heart broken and other days he’d see red with all his anger. Angry at himself for what he did to you, even angry at you for not giving him another chance. But he knew he deserved it. He deserved all this pity and self loathing. He broke your heart, the person he loved most in the world. He just wanted you back. You blocked him from everything and even changed your number. But he still saw you around sometimes. You looked better. 

The first month after you left, he had caught a glimpse of you at a coffee shop and you looked terrible. It looked like you hadn’t eaten, your face sunken in and void of any glow. You looked tired, and just...broken. He went home and cried that day because he did that, he made you that way. After two months, he saw you again walking downtown, you looked much better but you still had that hard exterior around you. Three months, and you were laughing with some friends at a bar. And then today, he saw you smiling. But you were with some man. Rio was downtown when he spotted you having lunch outside a restaurant. The man you were sitting across said something to have you letting out a deep laugh. Rio felt his heart twist. He hadn't heard that laugh in so long and then to see it was because of some other man? He felt his heart crack open. And then he wanted to scream and cry again because if this is how he felt by just watching you have a conversation with another man? Then he couldn’t imagine how you felt when you found out he was cheating on you. 

He took in the man that you were so obviously enjoying time with. He was a biker, his vest told him that much, and he had ink all over his skin. He was smiling at you and Rio knew that smile well, he looked at you like that. Like you were the most beautiful thing on the fucking planet. He couldn’t do it, he walked away and went home. You were moving on and it destroyed him inside. 

Four months later (Eight months since the breakup)

“Angel! Put me down!” You laughed as he hoisted you over his shoulder and spun you around. Even placing a sharp slap to your ass that had you laughing through your pleads. 

“PDA much?” Ez groaned from where he was standing. Angel put you down and you made a show of bringing him in for a kiss, your tongue meeting his right away. 

“For fucks sake!” Coco yelled. You laughed into the kiss and pulled away. 

“Let us be, fuckers. Y'all are just jealous.” Angel told them, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss to the side of your head. 

You had met Angel two months after breaking up with Rio. One of your friends was dating Coco at the time and had invited you to the clubhouse for a party. You were hesitant at first. You didn’t know these guys and at first glance, they seemed terrifying. But when you arrived, Coco was a great host and introduced you to everyone. A month later you’d find out that he was definitely trying to hook you up with Angel. But that night you met Angel and you hit it off immediately. You were skeptical at first, about starting a relationship again. Rio fucked you up so bad and although you were now over him, your insecurities and trust issues were still so fragile from when he threw them to the ground and stomped on them. But Angel was so damn sweet and so attentive. He was genuine and he really cared for you, it was hard not to fall back into that kind of love. And so you did. Six months with him and you were in love again. Maybe some would think it was too soon to be in love but you were a goner. And it scared you. And when it scared you, he didn’t accuse you of not trusting him or didn’t remind you that he wasn’t Rio. No, he’d just hold you and would tell you how much he loved you and how he would never do anything to hurt you. How you always put him first when no one else did and he would never let that go. And it worked, and you felt whole again. 

“You staying the night tonight? I was thinking of making dinner?” You ask the man who came into your life at just the right time. He tucked you into his side, your head leaning against his chest.

“Yeah, but how about I make you dinner?” You pulled away, incredulously. 

“I love you, but you’re a shit cook.” 

“Maybe I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” You bit your lip, sliding your hand down his arm. 

“Yeah? Can’t wait to see what you got.” It was hard not to flirt with Angel every chance you got. One look from him and you’d do anything he said. You knew not only was it the attraction but it was the safety you felt when you were with him. You always knew you were in good hands so you’d gladly be at his mercy any day. 

“Oh, mami, there’s still a whole lot of Angel you haven’t seen yet.” He took your ass in his hands and brought you in for a kiss. You sighed into it, losing yourself in all that was Angel. His name was definitely fitting, he was your angel, sent at the perfect time to not just heal your broken heart but mold it into something better, something reserved just for him. 

You didn’t really register what was going on. You were thrown off but you were surprised to know you didn’t feel that sadness again. That deep ache of despair that would creep in every time you thought about him. But you weren’t thinking about him. No, you were staring right at him. Yet you felt indifferent. Actually, no. You felt anger take form, bubbling just under the surface of your skin. You didn’t miss him, or want to cry from seeing him again. No, you didn’t think about all the good times you had with him. You thought about what he did to you. How he so readily threw away everything you had both built together. There wasn’t love there anymore, just despair and anger but those were quickly fading too. 

You were downtown, grabbing a cup of coffee before you were on your way to the bookstore a few blocks down. It was a nice Sunday afternoon and you figured you’d spend it with a good book. Angel was busy with club business today and you were off. It was such a nice damn day. Until you heard your name being called before you could enter the bookstore. You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in months. You turned around slowly, knowing you were going to find Rio there. He looked slightly better. You had seen him once or twice within the last couple months and his current state seemed a little better than those times you had seen him. 

“Rio.” Your way of greeting him. Why was he trying to talk to you now? You hadn’t talked since the day you went back to collect your stuff. Why now?

“You, uh, you look good.” He nodded his head, looking you up and down. You shifted on your feet. 

“Thanks.” What more could you say? You had said everything to him that night, you had moved on now. 

“Um, can we maybe go somewhere and talk?” 

“No.” You couldn’t believe he even suggested it. There was nothing to talk about, absolutely nothing. 

“Please, mama, I–”

“Do not call me that. I don’t want to talk, Rio. I’ve moved on and I suggest you do the same.” You turned away and walked into the bookstore. You wished the short interaction didn’t bother you as much as it did. You were angry that he would try to talk to you after all this time, and for what? He had to have known you were with someone else now, if the town didn’t talk well then his lackeys certainly did. You were happy now, happier. You didn’t need him coming back into your life and taking that from you again. But he just couldn’t help himself when he tried to do just that a week later. 

You laughed at Coco and Gilly shoving each other as you walked down the hall. Both boys trailing behind you, Angel, and Ez. 

“You two are children.” You shook your head and placed the key in the lock at your door. 

Before Angel could add his own remark you were talking.

“Don’t even say anything. You and Ez are just as bad.” Both the Reyes men rolled their eyes, but you knew they knew it was true. 

You laughed at them and then walked into your apartment, flipping on the switch. Your heart dropped as you saw the figure standing in your living room, you let out a gasp. Before you knew what was happening, all four Mayans had their guns drawn. Pointing straight at Rio.

He didn’t dare touch his gun, too late to draw it now.

“Who the fuck are you?” Angel was seething. There was a man inside your apartment, waiting for you. He thanked God that you invited the boys over for dinner tonight.

“Rio, what the fuck are you doing here?” You were just as angry as Angel probably was. When Angel heard the name, he was raging beyond belief now. The same Rio who broke your heart was waiting for you, somehow able to enter your home. 

“I came to see you. Didn’t know you’d have company.” He said, eyeing all the men in vests and guns out. 

“How the fuck did you get in? You can’t just break into my home, Rio. What the hell is wrong with you?” The guns barely jarred you. You were around them all the time with Rio so when you met Angel and found out some aspects of what the club did, you didn’t even blink an eye. 

Ez, Coco, and Gilly watched the interaction unfold. They knew who Rio was, they knew he was the asshole who cheated on you. They were just as pissed off as Angel was to see him. They cared for you deeply so quickly and you felt the same for them. They felt the strong need to protect you at all costs, you were Angel’s girl now and anyone who messed with you messed with them. Angel knew this, and he knew how it sounded a lot like old lady status. But that question was for another time. Another time where he wasn’t currently pointing his gun at Rio’s head, wishing he could pull the trigger. 

“I just wanted to talk, please.”

“You have a lot of fucking balls for a man who has four fucking guns on him.” Angel quipped. You were only slightly concerned for Rio’s safety. Yeah, he tore open your heart but he didn’t deserve to die. 

Rio ignored him and turned back to look at you. Angel wasn’t having it and stepped in front of you, pushing you behind him. 

“Nah, don’t even fucking look at her. I’m talking to you.” Angel wasn’t messing around and you felt a sense of security knowing he’d protect you to whatever end even though you knew Rio wouldn’t hurt you. 

“You need to leave.” Ez spoke up. Rio laughed, shaking his head. 

���This is who you hang around now, mama? I thought you were better than that. Better than this trash.” You knew Angel was boiling over with rage but you tugged on his vest and then stepped in front of him. 

“You will not, not talk about them like that. This is my family, you need to fucking leave, Rio.” You were red hot and ready to set everything on fire. Rio didn’t get to disrespect them, he didn’t just get to walk in here and talk shit about them. These guys were your family, your heart. They didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that.

“Can you just let me–” Rio tried but Angel spoke up again.

“She told you to leave, so leave.” 

Rio was about to stupidly open his mouth again so you stepped in. 

“You cheated on me, Rio. I will never forgive that, ever. So there’s nothing you can say or do that will change my mind about it or about you. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now, why do you insist on taking that away again?” Angel refrained from telling you that Rio wasn’t going to take away anything from you ever again, he wouldn’t let him. 

“I still love you, that ain’t gonna change.” You felt nothing hearing those words. Absolutely nothing. But you felt everything when Angel said them, when he whispered them to you at one in the morning after making love to you all night; when he’d yell them at you from across the junkyard on your way out; when he’d mumble them against your lips when he couldn’t draw his mouth away from yours but he needed to get them out. Angel’s love meant something. Rio’s never did. 

“I don’t love you, Rio. That’s never gonna change either. Leave my home and leave me alone. I won’t tell you again and if you try some shit like this again I swear I’ll call the cops on you.” Angel didn’t bother mentioning that if Rio pulled this shit again, he’d put a bullet in his brain. 

“I’ll always be waiting.” Rio said as he started to walk towards the door. 

“And I will never come.” Is all you said before Coco slammed the door shut when he walked out. You took a deep breath. They tucked their guns back into their jeans. 

“You okay, mi dulce?” Angel asked, cupping your cheeks in his hands. You nodded and leaned into his touch.

“Yeah. I can’t believe he broke in.”

“It won’t happen again.” Angel didn’t need to say anything further, you knew he wouldn’t let it.

“Yeah, he tries to come around again and we’ll take care of him.” Gilly said, you huffed out a laugh.

“If he comes around again, I’ll do it myself.” Rio was out of your life. You wanted nothing to do with him. And if he tried to show his face after disrespecting these men, then you’d do something about it. Your fierce loyalty to the Mayans happened so quick, one second you were dating Angel and the next you had a whole other family that you cared for and who cared for you. 

“I love you.” Angel said to you. The boys took it as their cue to go into the kitchen, giving you and Angel space. 

“I love you, Angel. My angel.” You clasped your hands on the back of his neck and his hands slid down to your waist. 

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” He promised, sealing it with a kiss. 

Angel was your hope. Your hope after a dark period, that people could be good. People could be honest and loving. He was what you needed at exactly the time you needed him, and he had told you that you were that for him as well. You were exactly what the other needed. Two bruised hearts healing just to beat in tandem with the other. 

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.2

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking​ for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

—————————-

It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.

“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I��d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”

“You checked everyone out?”

“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.

“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”

You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”

“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”

“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”

“And less effective.”

You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.

Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.

You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”

The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.

“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.

“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.

“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.

“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”

She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”

Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”

You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.

“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”

You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.

“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.

“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.

You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.

Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”

“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.

You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.

“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested

You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.

“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”

You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.

“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.

“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”

“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.

“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”

“But as a perp or a cop?”

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.

“Mm?” You replied.

His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”

The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.

“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.

“Go where?” You asked,

“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”

“Garcia-“ you started.

“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”

She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”

“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”

As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.

————————-

“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”

“With what?”

Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”

You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”

“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”

“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”

“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”

“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”

“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.

“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“

“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.

“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”

You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”

Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”

“I know…”

“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”

You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.

“Thanks, Nel.”

You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.

“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”

She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“

You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.

Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.

Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.

————————

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.

“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.

“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.

“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”

He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.

You paused, “don’t do what?”

“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”

You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.

“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”

“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.” 

“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.” 

He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated. 

“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.” 

“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise. 

He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?” 

Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself. 

“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.

“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”

———————————-

You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.  

You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.

To Spencer Reid:  Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise. 

With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later: 

You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.

----------------------

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu​

[anna-pixie]

Hello !!! Can I have Geralt x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Geralt steadies them and he is worried (and mad) when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on something soft. When he's done, he comes back , at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious????? THANK YOU

i am SO sorry this took so long, i’ve had the worst writers block recently! 🥺

i really liked writing this request and if you like it i would love to turn this into a little series maybe!

request: reader has been so caught up in work they forget to eat. geralt is worried (and mad) while he is making food they faint and land on something soft, he freaks out when he realises they are unconscious.

pairings: geralt x reader

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive tones

****

To say Geralt was over-protective of you would be a vast understatement. You’d met more or less a year ago, when he pretty much saved your life. You had just been kicked out by your father, for refusing to marry the fat, greasy suitor he had decided was worthy of your hand. A life on the streets doing whatever you please would be better than being married to a disgusting hog, right? Well, kind of. The harsh reality of living on the streets slapped you in the face like a bolt of lightning.

You were growing wearier by the day, coming closer and closer to facing your final option other than starving to death. Prostitution. You knew it would keep you going, but you’d seen the way those horrible men would manhandle and devour the painted ladies.

You met Geralt the night you almost gave in. You sat in the back room, glaring at your painted face with tears pricking your eyes. The lady of the brother called your name, a shriek in her voice as she commanded you to come down. She had a client ready for you.

Long story short, that client was Geralt. He took you up to his room for the night, taken aback when you started crying hysterically when he approached you. You had expected him to hit you, tell you to stop being a bitch or even just force himself on you there. Instead he ran you a bath, left you to calm down and then took you under his wing, whisking you away on Roach for a life on the road.

You like to think that was the Gods smiling down on you, meeting Geralt was the best thing that ever happened to you. Of course, life on the road was no breeze. Your new life was filled with monsters, hunger, travel and death. But you wouldn’t change it for anything.

The past few days had been particularly tough, you had been camped out in the forest while Geralt came and went, going after a particularly nasty wraith. You had been alone for the last day, and you were too afraid to venture out of your tent alone with the exception of relieving yourself, so food had not been at the top of your priority list.

However, now that you’ve started the long walk to the nearest town, you realise how stupid you had been. Your head is spinning and you feel slightly delirious, your stomach screaming at you to feed it. Luckily Geralt is a few paces ahead of you with Roach, and the sound of a nearby stream drowns out any of the rather embarrassing noises your stomach is making.

You stop a while later, and Geralt makes sure you drink a hearty amount of water from the stream. He leans against Roach and watches you, your cheeks flushing as you slurp the water.

“Do I have something on my face?” You’re paranoid now, he won’t stop looking.

“You’re about to.”

“W...what?” You barely have any time to question before he is striding up to you, grasping your face and planting his lips on yours. You relax, smiling into the kiss as he takes his time to savour you.

Geralt is not your boyfriend by any means. Sure, you kiss occasionally. Sometimes he can’t seem to help himself, but you draw that up to just needing a bit of female attention on the road. You never let him go further though, as you know that will bring unwanted feelings. You see the way Geralt is with women, a different one in every town - sometimes even more than one. You don’t want to become that to him, just another body to have his way with. So you stick to kissing. And, oh Gods is he good at it.

You hit his chest lightly, blinking quickly as you stumble to the side slightly. Your vision blurs suddenly and you place your hand on Geralt’s large arm, trying to steady yourself.

“Y/N? Y/N!” He shakes you lightly, looking down at you with furrowed brows as you start to regain your vision.

You shake your head a little, plastering a smile on your face, “Sorry. I don’t know what happened there. I felt a bit faint…”

“You practically passed out, Y/N. Gods, you didn’t have any breakfast today, is that why? What did you eat yesterday?”

“Umm…” You stall, trying to think of a way to tell Geralt that you in fact haven’t eaten, “Nothing…” You regret telling him almost immediately as his face drops, his eyes going dark. You know how angry he gets when you don’t take care of yourself, and you guess that’s why he feels like he has to do it for you.

“Fuck…” He groans, dragging the word out as he walks towards Roach, grumbling quietly to himself. He takes the reins and brings the confused horse over to you, “Normally I wouldn’t let more than one person ride Roach but I can’t risk you passing out and falling off if I’m not on there with you.”

He grabs you quickly underneath the armpits and you shriek in surprise as he lifts you onto the horse with ease. You whisper an apology as your fingernails lightly scratch Roach’s neck. He climbs up after you and you blush at how close his body is. You can feel everything, you’re practically sitting on his lip. You ignore the unladylike thoughts swirling in your brain and focus on staying awake for the rest of the ride to town.

“How long left?”

“Shouldn’t be long. Blaviken is not too far but… obviously… we need to travel a few towns over.”

“Aah. Okay.”

You make idle chat for the rest of the way, though it is mainly you chatting about any old thought that pops into your head, and Geralt grumbling along. At some point he had wrapped his arms around your waist, one resting on your thigh and the other on your waist. Gods, is he trying to make this hard for you?

The rest of the ride isn’t too bad, your vision spots in and out of black a few times but you try not to bother Geralt with this information. You spend your time brushing your fingers lightly through Roache’s main, trying not to distract her too much. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally reach the next town, probably looking like a mage out of her mind as you grin sleepily as you pass people by.

You stumble a bit as Geralt lifts you off of Roach, but deflect his concerned glance with a wry smile, telling him your leg was dead from being idle for so long. Wow, you’ve gotten so good at lying. You leave him to sort Roach out in the nearby stables while you wander inside the warm tavern, scrunching your nose at the inviting scent of sweat wafting around the room. Your transaction with the owner is quick, you’re used to it now after months on the road. You place an order for meat with all the trimmings, knowing you had a bit of coin left over from being camped out for a few days.

“Sorry, love, we ain’t got no meat left. I can rustle you up some potatoes if you’re desperate.”

You sigh, biting your lip as you eye the man near you devouring his piece of meat, your stomach groaning desperately. Alas, you smile kindly at her and assure her that it’s fine, you’ll just take the room for now.

You smile, shaking your head once more as you enter the room, realising that you’ve been given a double bed to share. You will never admit this to Geralt, but you secretly love it when you have to share a bed. You had never been one to enjoy physical touch a lot, but the way Geralt’s large arms would hold you in his sleep, gripping you tightly like he’s scared you’ll leave, well it just makes your heart melt.

Sitting on the bed, you focus on trying to stay awake whilst you wait for Geralt. This is in vain, however, because your head starts spinning almost instantly. You whisper a quick ‘fuck’ before all you can see is darkness, falling down onto the bed with your back facing the door.

Geralt smiles as he spies you on the bed when he enters the room a few minutes later, assuming you’re napping. It had been a long day after all. He starts to run a bath for you, a sort of tradition between the two of you since the night you met. As he listens to the running water, he sits at the small table in the corner of his room, his legs spread as his hulking form takes over the small wooden chair.

“Come on, you.” He nudges you slightly once he has finished preparing your bath. Usually when he wakes you from a nap you groan, mumble and drool before glaring at him angrily. Not this time, though. You don’t move at all, and Geralt starts to panic quickly as he remembers the events of earlier that day. He turns you over, your unconscious body lolling like a ragdoll in his strong arms. He shuts his eyes with a groan, realising he is going to have to shock you awake.

You wake with a squeal, thinking for a second you might be drowning. Your vision is bleary for a few seconds as you try to gather your surroundings, only calming down when you hear Geralt’s low, soothing voice talking you through things.

“You can’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Geralt is holding your face now, brushing a strand of wet hair out of your face. You realise he must have dumped some ice water on you to wake you up.

“I thought tough old Geralt of Rivia wasn’t scared of anything?” You tease weakly, closing your eyes once more as a wave of fatigue slams over you. He slaps your face lightly, ensuring you don’t pass out again. You meet his eyes once more, slightly shocked at the sheer seriousness of his expression.

“Not when it comes to you. You’re the only thing that keeps me going in this world, Y/N. You have to understand that I might not always be here. I need to know that you can take care of yourself, okay? For me.”

You tilt your head so that you’re leaning further into Geralt’s hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He leans forward, kissing your forehead quickly as he gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“I bumped into Jaskier earlier, he’s passing through this town with his newest whore. I sent him to get us some meat. We’re not sleeping until you’ve eaten. Got it?” Sometimes you like to tease Geralt, just to get a reaction from him. This was not one of those times. You look at him through your lashes.

“Got it.”

Jaskier is as happy as ever, humming a tune whilst the three of you dig into your food. You try to remain ladylike as you eat but can’t help scoffing down the hearty chunk of meat you were served.

“You should’ve seen Geralt before, Y/N.” Jaskier cackles, shrieking suddenly when Geralt serves a swift kick to his shin.

“What do you mean?” You eye Geralt suspiciously, placing your hand on his thigh so that Jaskier can explain without the fear of being kicked again.

“I was enjoying my… company… downstairs, shall we say. Then all of a sudden this buffoon comes running down the stairs, shouting about a jug of cold water. So of course I followed him, and all I could see before he kicked me out of the room was him pacing around - I kid you not, Y/N, he was praying to the Gods - and then he chucked the jug of water on you.” You can’t help but giggle at Jaskier’s dramatic retelling of the events, awwing slightly when you see Geralt’s bashful face.

Turns out even emotionless Witcher’s can freak out when something they care about is in danger.

[soundsfunbutno]

Janna Ordonia x reader

Britta’s Tacos 11:00 p.m.

I walked into the kitchen of Britta’s Tacos, just as Oscar was about to leave.

“Oh hi (Y/N)! You about to clock in?”

“Yes, I am. Better get to work, look at all these customers! They’re all waiting for a taco, an hour before midnight.” I said sarcastically, pointing at the nonexistent line of customers at the ordering window.

Oscar laughed while taking off his apron and grabbing his backpack, heading for the back door.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, see ya tomorrow (Y/N)!

“See ya!” I let out a sigh just as he closed the door, why do I have to work the late shift? I wouldn’t be sleeping at this hour anyways, I’d just be endlessly scrolling through Tumblr, but stil!

Running on pure monster energy drink and three hours of sleep, I put on my apron and hat, and walked over to the ordering window to wait for any customers to show up. About a month ago, the owner decided that Britta’s Tacos was going to become a twenty four hours restaurant. And of course I was the one who got assigned the 11 p.m.-7 a.m. shift.

I mean, it’s not that bad. I get some time away from my shitty family and the manager isn’t even here so I pretty much get to do whatever I want. This led to me making a TikTok account dedicated to showing what it’s like to work the night shift at Britta’s Tacos. Of course not all of my videos are about Britta’s Tacos, but about eighty percent of my TikToks are recorded here.

In my first month of working the night shift, I’ve met some interesting people. There was the trucker who had been broke so many times he didn’t know what to believe, the boy toy named troy who used to live in Detroit and many more. But none of them caught my eye like the girl that just sat down at that table just did.

There seemed to be this wave of I don’t give a fuck radiating off of her. And that was way more attractive to me than it should be. I noticed I had been staring when she dropped a heavy book onto the metal table which caused a loud noise to resonate through the courtyard and wake me up from my daydream.

She continued to place more books, sketchbooks and occult looking items such as animal skulls onto the table. And the whole time I was watching her the only thing going through my head was “Fuck, my gay is showing.”

As she stood up and made her way to the order window, I quickly turned off my work voice that I had to use with adult customers and switched to my regular voice.

“Hi, welcome to Britta’s Tacos. What can I get ya?”

“Just a uhm burrito and a large cherry coke please.”

OH MY GOD SHES’S NICE TO RESTAURANT STAFF ARF ARF BARK BARK.

Looks like I’m gay panicking again, okay lemme snap out of it.

“Alright I’ll be back with your order in just a moment.” I went to the kitchen and started off by toasting the tortilla for five seconds on each side. While putting the organs inside the tortilla skin I let my mind wander to that girl again.

I have to stop doing this, I catch feels way to quickly and it’s not even funny, it’s just sad. But I can’t help it.

“Well, I guess it’s time to not shoot my shot and regret it for the rest of my life.” I thought as I wrapped the burrito and poured the cherry coke into a cup. Bagging the order and putting it on a tray, I made my way back to the order number where the girl goddess was on the phone with someone.

“Yes Star, I’m sure it’s her. Now hurry over here before I break into your house and kidnap you.”

She hung up on her friend and turned towards me.

“Sorry for that, how much do I owe you?”

“That would be A dollar and eighteen cents.”

She handed me the money and just when I thought I’d never see her again and I’d never have a chance with her.

It happened.

Her phone rang.

And what was her ringtone?

Dead girl in the pool by girl in red.

Time to shoot that shot like they shot Harambe

“Ugh Tom stop calling me.” She mumbled under her breath as she declined the call.

My brain was fucking zooming as I tried to think of a conversation topic.

Then all of the sudden someone fucking tackled her.

I leaned over the counter and saw a girl with long blonde hair. I immediately recognized her voice as she loudly shrieked out. “JANNA BANANA”

“Ugh, Star get off!”

Okay so now I know her name is Janna. That’s progress, right?

But that’s besides the point. I know that bouncy ball! She’s my favorite TikTok mutual!

“Starship420?”

She turned her head towards me and her eyes seemed to light up as she recognized me.

“(Y/N)’s Tacos?”

I jumped over the counter and laughed in glee.

“Oh my god star! I had no Idea you lived in Echo Creek!”

���I didn’t know you lived here either!”

The girl who I now knew was named Janna walked over to her table with her food and started reading through one of her books.

“Yeah this is great! So uhm, can I get you anything?”

She held her chin as she thought about her order.

“You saw my sugarrito video?”

My expression suddenly went dead serious as I nodded to her and climbed back over the counter and headed towards the kitchen.

I continued to assemble a normal burrito but then dumped on five heaping tablespoons of sugar. I filled up a medium cup with mountain dew, bagged it up and brought it to the ordering window.

“Alright that’s a dollar and eighteen cents.”

Star grabbed a big stash of money from a wallet that didn’t look like it belonged to her and handed a five dollar bill to me.

“Thank you, and here’s your change.”

She grabbed her change and then proceeded to hurl it past my head into the kitchen.

“Keep the change.”

“I- okay thanks.”

Star took the tray from my hands and made her way towards Janna.

As I was picking up the change that Star decided to yeet into the kitchen I realized that me and Janna had one thing in common that could cause us to become friends.

We were both friends with Star.

Star had the ability to magically create new friendships. Because of star I met Ponyhead, Marco, Kelly and many more people.

I once again hopped over the counter and joined the two girls at their table, where Star was excitedly telling Janna about the science of the sugarrito while Janna was drawing different glyphs on a sheet of paper and mindlessly nodding to make it look like she was listening.

I bravely took a seat next to Janna.

“Watcha drawing?

Janna jumped and looked at me.

“Uhm yeah, ha you startled me. I’m trying to draw light glyphs.”

I looked at her drawings and realized I recognized them.

“Oh like from The Owl House?”

Okay (Y/N), this is your time. If she says she likes the show, mention Lumity and look at her reaction.

“Yes! You watch that show? I started watching after I found out Lumity is canon.”

OKAY THIS IS GOING GREAT SHE LIKES LUMITY

I let out a soft laugh and smiled at her. “I started crying during the dance scene!”

We both burst out laughing, as we were both attempting to catch our breath we subconsciously scooted closer to each other.

Both of us seemed to have forgotten that Star was there too but she was too busy to notice, aggressively texting someone.

She stood up and grabbed her unfinished drink. “Sorry guys, Marco’s REALLY upset that I stole his wallet again. He wants me to come home to return it. I’ll see you guys, maybe we can arrange a meetup tomorrow.”

She grabbed her wand out of nowhere and took a deep breath before yelling “SUMMONING CLOUDY CHARM”.

A fucking cloud that looked like it just consumed some psychedelics appeared out of thin air, Star hopped onto the cloud and flew away.

“Does she do that often?”

“Yeah, you should be seeing a lot of that when hanging out with her.”

Janna and I talked for what seemed like hours and hours. We both chugged the monster energy cans from my backpack and she tought me about the topics in her books.

She seemed to light up as she ranted about hexes and spells. And by the time the sun rose, I knew more about the paranormal then I thought was possible.

“My manager is coming in an hour, I should probably get everything set up to make it look like I was working all night, I’m not really looking to get fired.”

Janna stretched and began packing up all of her stuff. “So you wanna meet up again some time?”

I stood up placed a hand next to her on the table, leaning to the side.

Okay time for twenty seconds of bravery.

“Sure, when you got time?” I said to her, smirking.

She looked up at me, the tiniest blush forming on her face “Uhm, maybe we can meet up here on Thursday and we can watch a movie at my place? Maybe get some snacks from 7 eleven.

I pushed myself off of the table.

Sure, it’s a date.

I walked back to the restaurant, silently celebrating my succes.

Britta’s Tacos, 07:a.m.

I had just finished all of my tasks and was waiting for the manager to show up to dismiss me.

As Dana walked in she greeted me and looked at me questioningly.

“Girl you just finished an eight hour shift, what’s got you so happy?”

“Nothing”

[hazbincalifornia]

Choice

Chapter 24:  Blitzo goes back to work.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and an IMP death relating to hanging.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Welcome back, Blitzo!” Millie smiled from her seat atop Loona’s desk as Blitzo threw the door to the office open. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m sure it-”

“Millz, love you to death, but put a sock in it before I do it for you,” he growled, eyes narrow and fists clenched tighter than a politician’s asshole as he chucked his already-drained iced coffee cup into the trash. Loona shuffled in behind him and dropped on the couch, pointedly focusing on her phone screen.

“Geez, who whizzed in your cereal? Something happen?” Millie blinked, bouncing herself up a bit on her seat to keep at his eye level. “Can we help?”

Moxxie emerged from Blitzo's office, shuffling papers. “We’ve managed the cases so far just fine, but I need you to sign off on-”

“You can sign my-” Blitzo sucked in a deep breath, pinching his forehead before letting it out. “Fine, everything’s fine.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow. “I take it something went wrong. That, or you’re just sex-hungover. That can happen, you know-”

Millie cut him off with a click of her tongue, and his mouth snapped shut. “Moxxie, we don’t need the honeymoon story, I think somethin’s really wrong. He looks all slumpy, like a willow-weed in the r-”

“Can both of you lay off? I don't need the tag-team act right now.” Blitzo wove around Moxxie and his pile of paperwork to enter his office- the one that Moxxie shouldn't have been gallivanting in and out of. “You two deal with the client, I just really, really want to fucking shoot something, so tell me when the deal’s done, alright?”

Millie sucked in her cheek and Moxxie glanced over to her before his eyes flicked back to Blitzo, whose fingers twitched before he slammed the door in their faces.

_______________________

Three sharp knocks on the door. “Sir? It’s time to go, unless you want us to work by ourselves again. We’re more than capable-”

“No, I’m up, I’m up.” Blitzo scrubbed at his eyes- any attempts to fall asleep at his desk and make up for the complete lack of any kind of rest last night had been thoroughly thwarted by his brain going at a hundred miles an hour. (The coffee wasn’t to blame. Probably. He’d fallen asleep on way more than the piddly single one he’d downed in the past.) Mostly, it had been wanting to throttle Stolas mixed with wanting to throttle himself, and then imagining rapidly escalating scenarios of where he might be able to chuck the kid once they popped out. (Currently, he was at ‘trying to slingshot them up to Heaven just to see what they’d do with it.’ In all likelihood, it’d be crucifix batting practice.)

“It’s one that the client said might be suicidal, but she seemed quite self-important and thought that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to live without her anyway, so I wouldn’t trust that.” The chair creaked as Blitzo got up, but if it was because it was a couple years old and salvaged from the back of the circus’s dump or because of the deadweight around his gut that had officially turned his shirt into a crop top was anybody’s guess. 

As he entered the main room, Moxxie was rubbing a cloth over the musical note on the side of his gun, and Millie fussed with a length of rope while humming to herself.

“I’unno sugar, the client said he was kinda hefty…”

“We have other options if it breaks, and clients often exaggerate that sort of thing. Besides, it just needs to hold him long enough to snap the neck, or at least asphyxiate him. Then they’ll just assume it broke after he died.”

“I’m just saying, it’s more cleanup.”

“Well, this is the kind of rope they can usually get topside, so I say we- oh, good, you’re here.” Moxxie pointed to the paper piled up on the coffee table. “I already did all the hard bits, I just need your signature.”

“Right, right. Signature. Got it. Then we get to go kill something, right?”

Moxxie glanced over at Millie, and the look they exchanged passed way more information than Blitzo’d ever be able to parse. Must be a marriage thing. Must be nice, too. Being able to know what each other was thinking and shit. Real useful.

“Yeah, hun, then we can go kill something. Nothing like some good ol’ violence to get the blood pumping, right?” Millie smiled as Blitzo dashed off a loopy B on each of the papers. Most of them were bills, a few were paychecks that he’d probably just forgotten in the mess of the past few months since Moxxie would know better than to try and slip extras in since it would destroy the budget anyway, there was one approving the repairs for the fire, right, right, this was why he let Moxxie handle all the boring shit, at least it was easy to just sign the dotted line- there. Done.

Blitzo cracked his knuckles, tail snapping in mid-air. “Right! Let’s go fuck somebody up!”

“There we go!” Millie gave a little laugh, punching his arm as Moxxie picked up the Grimoire and opened to the right page before drawing the circle with his free hand. Loona was still settled on the couch behind him, nursing a sports drink from the fridge and half-watching the three of them, head tilted slightly.

Moxxie nodded to the portal, setting the book down on the desk. “Right behind you, sir.”

____________________

The guy didn’t even fight back when they woke him up and strung him up. What a wuss. Hangings were usually fun since they squirmed and made funny noises while trying to break free if the neck didn't snap when the chair dropped, but it wasn’t nearly bloody enough for Blitzo’s taste today. Oh, sure, he’d clawed at the rope that had manufactured nylon sharp enough to carve out blood from under his nails, but his face was purpling at a rapid rate, so they probably didn’t have to do anything other than let gravity finish the job for them, especially considering his kicks were starting to slow anyway.

“You want to go watch some wrestling death-matches when we get back home? I heard they’re bringing the Big Boar in, he’s some sinner who was a lucador back in life. That’ll get some of that killer instinct out.” Millie gave a playful growl as she rummaged around in the target’s belongings. Blitzo watched her hips waggle for a moment before she made a little ‘hmmph’ at a pin-up cowgirl calendar.

“Hmm… tempting, Millz, tempting.”

“Pride wrestling’s more like good ol’ fashioned blood sport, especially when they get the guys that can regenerate limbs!” She ground her fist into her palm with an intense look. Moxxie rolled his eyes as Blitzo leaned against the wall.

“Pl-ease… sa...ve..” the human wheezed out before Moxxie poked at his stomach, and he coughed up blood directly on the little imp before falling limp. Moxxie grimaced, using the man’s somewhat-sweaty bedsheet nearby to clean himself off.

“Perhaps you could invite his highness? I remember him saying something about-”

“Nope,”  Blitzo snapped out immediately. “Not gonna fuckin’ happen.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow, dropping the sheets. “It was just a suggestion, sir. Had too much of him over the past few days?”

“You could say that,” Blitzo muttered, a hand resting on his stomach, and Millie's eyes softened.

“Aw, you could have said something. He ride you too hard?”

The fingers curled inwards, claws dragging above the surface and lighting it up red, forcing him away from his own skin. “Something along those lines, yeah. You two can drop this anytime, you know.”

“Well, at least the little one will be out of your hair soon,” Moxxie said. “Just a few more months, then I would imagine it’s just visitations now and then. You said that you’d already discussed things with him about custody, right?”

Blitzo swallowed, the hand raising up from his belly to rub at the back of his neck. “So, er, about that-”

The wood groaned as Moxxie took a step forward. “No. You didn’t.”

“Come on, Moxx, he was drooling over it, how the fuck was I supposed to know he wanted me to-”

Moxxie threw up his hands. “What have I told you? To think about what you’re doing! What do you do? Throw yourself-”

“Oh, you think this is my fault?”

“Of course it’s your fault!” Moxxie folded his arms. “What did I say when you were considering keeping it? That it was going to be a big responsibility! You barely can call Loona civilized and she’s somehow a legal adult, what in the seven rings would you fuck up if you had to raise an actual child?”

“Exactly! I don’t fucking want to!” Blitzo spat out with enough venom to make Moxxie’s fingers tighten on his arms. “That’s the point, I thought this was just going to be for a couple of months and then yeah, maybe getting to see them now and then wouldn't suck the worst ass if they turn out cool, but I’ve got other shit to do! I’m a busy guy, and I’d definitely fuck it-”

“Blitzo…” Millie reached out a hand before curling it into a loose fist in midair. “Hun, I’m sorry.”

“Yes. Thank you, Millie.”

“Although…” She gnawed on her lip for a moment, and he groaned.

“Don’t you start-”

“Why did you adopt Loona then? I’m genuinely wonderin’, that’s all. You love her to bits, why’s this different? If you hadn’t done that I wouldn’t be askin’, but… you like being a dad.”

“I…” He trailed off. There was a scuttering in the wall behind him, like a roach or some other grimy-grody pest, and a chill drilled down the vertebrae of his spine as a shiver ran through his bones. Why was the sweat dripping down his side cold, like condensation on the side of a frozen water bottle? Damned drafty house. “I wanted to be there for somebody, somebody that I chose to be, and that won't-" He cleared his throat, shaking his head to start over. "Anyway, she’s a good kid who's figuring her shit out and I like hanging out with her. I'm glad to be her dad. That's different."

“Why would this be so bad, then?” Millie repeated. 

Blitzo scoffed. “ ‘Cause I got Loona when she was older and I had to go through a buncha bullshit to sign the papers instead of just getting nutted in and having it sprung on me? That was an active effort, and teenagers are basically an entirely different species from babies, I’ve only had to clean up her shit a couple of times-”

“Did not need to know that,” Moxxie muttered.

“-Shut up Moxxie, but anyway, point is, Loonie was already walking and talking and has her own tastes and shit, most babies are just worthless little parasites until they’re, like, ten. I was a fuckin’ miserable little thing to deal with according to literally fucking everybody, so why the fuck would I want to inflict that on myself when I can help somebody that’s already gotten through most of the annoying phase? Plus, her sense of fashion kicks ass. Babies can't pick you out dope outfits." His tail snaked up and tapped his shoulder. "Point to me, excellent reasoning.”

“She’s still your daughter, and you still have to deal with a lot from-” Millie tried to continue, but Blitzo held up a hand.

“Look, it’s just different, okay? The apartment’s crowded enough. I’ll figure this out somehow.”

“...If you’re sure,” Millie said, shifting her weight on the creaky floorboards. “How did the prince take it?”

“Ugh, you really think I want to get deep into his little wah-wah I-thought-you-knew bullshittery?” Blitzo snorted. “I don’t give a shit what he thinks, he should have been upfront about the fact that I was going to be ruining both me and the squirt’s life instead of just being a fuckin’ incubator for cash. End of story.”

There was a nudge from inside of him that was much sharper than usual, and Blitzo’s eyes snapped down.

“Did you just fuckin’ bite me?”

[partyinthemysterymachine]

Harry + betrayed (looks at a&s au stuff like :3c)

looks at you like 🔪

===

Every time the mug came out of the steaming hot dishwasher, Harry clasped it in both hands. The ceramic was always scalding, and his palms always threatened to blister. Clouds reeking of dishwasher detergent lifted and swept over his forearm, humid as a summer’s stifling rain, its pungency sickening his heart. 

He hated to wash this mug. 

Bright and early at six o’clock every morning, Harry made coffee. It steeped dark and bitter, just how they liked it. The first pour went into his mug; the second filled his own. Then both were taken to the small, round table in the corner of their kitchen. Harry set the mug down on the wood itself to the right of the round, rattan woven placemats they’d found in a bargain bin at Williams-Sonoma. Harry’s coffee went on the placemat itself, edging the rim, at his left.

How charming it was to have their mugs across from each other like that. He always liked how they seemed to be having a conversation through the coffee’s dissipating flames of white steam. As they drained their caffeine and burned their throats, the heat shocking their stomachs, they’d talk. 

Talking didn’t necessarily mean words were used. No, words weren’t his forte, though he relished every sound that rolled off his tongue. He spoke with his face and through his hands, and if Harry ever had his way, he’d spend the hours morn to midnight simply gazing at his face.

Two hours later, Harry stood and took the cold, untouched mugs to the sink. Down the drain went the wasted coffee, dumped out at the same time. A swish of water from the faucet did a quick and fine job of cleaning them out, and Harry’s went, dripping, onto the counter. Then he ran the water again to piping hot, abusing skin rough and chapped from this daily ritual of cleaning, cleaning out his ice cold coffee, cleaning, cleaning out the dots of mold he’d let grow for two weeks because he couldn’t let that go, cleaning, cleaning out that damn spot, that damn spot, that damn spot.

The mug was as hot as it was when it came out of the dishwasher, and Harry clasped it in both hands. His teeth tried to send their roots into his skull with his jaw clamped like that, and he wished his tongue, sucked hard to the roof of his mouth and tastebuds rough as sandpaper, would swell and choke him. Every time it didn’t, which was every morning, every single morning for the past three years, Harry called it betrayal.

His kiss held tender on the warm rim. It was the last place his lips had laid where Harry could kiss him, for he couldn’t kiss his own cheek. Like every morning, his eyes slipped closed and he thought of their daily coffee date at their kitchen table. Autumn was in full golden, fiery bloom. People swarmed to Vermont to lose their breath to the vast garden of nature’s heavenly, untamed wildfire that never burned. 

Every single fucking morning it was autumn again, the mug had been scorching hot, then chilly, the phantom pressure of his kiss lingered on his cheek, and Harry tried to kiss him back too on ceramic that had been the last tangible thing to experience his lips.

Today, he set the mug down on the counter alongside the one in its puddle. The water brimmed its mismatched mate immediately and would leave an incomplete circle in its wake after Harry would take it up and wrap it in a soft towel. That puddle would dry on its lonesome over the course of as many minutes; Harry wrapped up his personal mug, too.

Remaining coffee got poured and locked in a thermos. They were placed in the coveted seat beside the driver’s - shotgun! one’s supposed to yell to reserve it for themselves - tucked safely behind a plain old box. 

The ignition chittered on. Rancid boomed and rattled the Jeep’s speakers. Harry absently wiggled the shiny, custom-made Magic Eight Ball fortune teller stick shift knob. He glanced down. ‘It is decidedly so,’ promised the triangular face washed behind blue, its text pressed on the circular window. 

A draw; and exhale. The YJ Wrangler shifted into gear, easing back out of the driveway, Harry’s arm slung around the shotgun seat and head turned to watch over his shoulder as he safely maneuvered to their personal gravel road leading to and from their remote, comfortable Vermont hideaway.

It’d probably take five, six hours, give or take, to get to Maine. He was looking forward to their coffee date. Five out of the seven days of the week Harry drove to Maine to hang out on the shore of Toluca Lake. Coffee was served into their mugs; he kept his at his side, and his tucked into the sand and mud at the water’s breach. 

Sometimes he’d talk, update his husband on his books, their daughter, the latest news that did and didn’t matter. Other times he’d sit in silence, listening and watching the new face of a man he loved. Harry was there in rain, sleet, and snow. He’d all but frozen his ass off before out there and sweated buckets in the heat. But they had their spot, and that’s where he’d always sit.

Silent Hill rested to the south. They took a vacation there once. Harry hates how it looks out across Toluca. Take your fucking eyes somewhere else, he regularly thinks. Don’t fucking look at him.

It oversees. One day, Harry’s promised five days out of the seven in the week, he’s going to tear that town asunder by his own bare hands. 

Tomorrow might be that day. Harry rises to his feet. It is decidedly so. He fetches the Jeep’s constant tenant for the last three years. It is decidedly so. 

“I hope you liked your coffee, honey,” he says to the lake lapping at his boots as he wades into snapping cold. “So, I asked the eight ball if I’d see you today,” Harry Mason offhandedly tells his husband residing in the lake. “Guess what it said? ‘It is decidedly so.’ Take that as you will. I know you know what I’ve planned to do, honeylove. Don’t get up in my tits about it,” warns the older man, now appropriately submerged mid-chest. “I’m not gonna do it today. Doesn’t feel right. But I thought it’d be nice to see you, anyway.”

“So you’re wondering why I brought the box in with me? Well, I’m glad you asked! For one, I fixed it up and made it waterproof,” he smirks, cradling it in his arm and popping it open. “And two.. c’mon, now. You know I’d lose these if I didn’t keep ‘em in here.”

Two pendants, no bigger than his thumbnail, each on their own thin chain, dangled just skimming the water’s surface. Two pendants, amber and glinting, somehow even in the thick grey mist rolling in from Silent Hill. “Check these out. I got ‘em made a few months ago and I’ve just now had the balls to bring ‘em out. It’s because the eight ball said I’d see you today. So.. here. One of them’s for you. I figure you can make yours glow in there, firefly. You have a knack for lightin’ up the dark.”

Harry chuckles, wagging his head back and forth, mocking himself. “Yeah, yeah, mushy, whatever, I’m a dork. Thbhtghbh. What’re you gonna do, divorce me? Shoulda thought about that before you went fishing, babe.” He collects the chains and their sculpted fireflies into his fist. One kiss is enough for both. Then he smiled, looked into the lake, and felt comforted by the thought that that sweet, pale man with yellow wheat field hair was watching him.

Projection is a very real, very psychedelic thing, for sometimes, Harry thinks he can see his face.

The water sways around his wrist. He gazes into Toluca Lake and waits, and hopes that the magic of the eight ball is true.

Will I get to see James today?

It is decidedly so.

If he were to do it all over again from the top, do you think he’d still do it this way?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I love him?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I’ll never forgive him?

It is decidedly so.

When the day comes, I’ll kill that motherfucker myself. I dunno how it’s gonna happen, but it’s gonna happen. Fucking asshole. He knows that, right?

….

.. right?

“I gotta go soon, babe,” Harry murmurs to his husband, James Mason (formerly Sunderland). “I’m gonna leave one with you. I’ll be back tomorrow. If you wanna trade, we can. Fuck, I don’t wanna get a fuckin’ yeast infection out here,” he gripes, turning to wade out of the lake. “Seriously, James. Not like a yeast infection wouldn’t stop me from comin’ out here but you bet your ass you’re gonna hear all fucking about it, because it will be your fault, and I fucking hate you, so goddamn fucking much, honeylove.”

Harry makes it out to the shore. He takes the box to its honored seat in shotgun! James’s coffee gets thrown into Toluca; he pours his out where he’d sat. Then the mason with rusted tools scans his exhausted, old, heavily lined eyes across the scenic lake where an orange (rare, so rare, extremely rare and mean everything) firefly swims. He’ll never get over the betrayal. It doesn’t matter if he understands it. It doesn’t matter that he’s (and he’s) been waiting for it long before they’d met. 

After all those thousands of years of looking for each other, this is how he chooses to betray him: like Judas, with a kiss.

A kiss on a ceramic mug that is going to be washed again today, and tomorrow morning, and will scald his hands.

A kiss, a kiss, a kiss from a man whose lips promised I love you with a simple brush. Lips Harry hasn’t felt in three years; his heart can break even more.

Will I ever get to kiss him again? Harry asks his stick shift as he drives towards his six (give or take) hour journey home to Vermont.

It is decidedly so, replies the eight ball.

Will it be soon? inquires a widowed man, widowed for the second time.

It is decidedly so, soothes the inky window.

When?

Turn right off this street, guides the knob too small to say so. Fifty miles out. It won’t take long.

Huh? I can barely see with all this fog. Where am I going?

To see James. 

James? What’s he doing all the way out here?

Waiting for you.

.. waiting for me? I’ll get to see him again?! Jeez.. damn, I’ve got a splitting headache all of a sudden .. fifty miles to Silent Hill.. hrm, seems farther than I remember, but.. 

He’s waiting for you.

.. forgot to clean up the coffee at home.. m’sure it’ll be fine.. Cheryl’ll be over at some point.. heh.. can’t believe he wants to spend our anniversary in Silent Hill.. fuckin’ weirdo.. a vow renewal? And he calls me disgusting..

He’s waiting.

I’m comin’. I’ll be there soon, James. It’s gonna be alright. I can’t wait to see you. We’re gonna have a great vacation, just the two of us, aren’t we, sweetheart?  

It is decidedly so.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Geeking Out

Masterlist

You work onset of the witcher as the resident handy girl there to repair the props onset rather then them being sent off to be fixed, when working on Geralt’s sword Henry comes across you and with one slip of the tongue your inner geeks collide.

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing

A/N: Had this on my mind for a while just a cute little fluff piece hope you enjoy XX

Taglist: @havenoffandoms​ @iloveyouyen​ @angelofthor​ @thatgirly81​

Incredible text dividers are from @writeyourmindaway​ I suggest you go check out her others they are soo usefull xx.

You hummed quietly managing to secure yourself a table in one of the busy tents just off set, you moved quickly furiously mixing the epoxy trying to combine the two parts with the lolly stick. Your task? you were trying to fix Geralt’s sword there had been a small mishap during a scene renfri's brooch had been hit in one of the takes and had come off. Your job was to put it back on and make sure its stays on , so this time you were forgoing the original glue and using a tiny amount of epoxy it was stronger and once it cured that little brooch wasn't coming off for love nor money. Your job was maintenance on the props ,you were kept onset with a small arsenal of tools to fix anything that gets damaged quick and skilled repair jobs anything from the horse tack to props jewellery the only things you didn't touch was wardrobe because...Fuck no. Textiles was not your thing.

You moved fast wanting to have it mixed thoroughly. This particular resin cured fast...very fast well for resin anyway, so it was always a rush to combine it. You moved a syringe and pulled the plunger up then dotted the resin on the hilt of the sword swiftly applying the brooch then looked around for the clamp. Shit. It was to far you couldn't reach it. You tried stretching down into your bag for it but it was no use suddenly someone was behind you.

"Need help?" You nodded to the slim clamp in the bag

"Yeah could you pass me the clamp forgot to get it out just got this bloody thing central and can't risk it slipping" you focused on your work holding the brooch steady as the person hummed leaning down then handed it to you.

"Cheers lovey" you thanked them and leaned down with one final check that everything was positioned correctly nodding you placed a rag across it protecting it and clamped it securely.

"Sorry about that... Misjudged the angle and hit it to hard I'm afraid" you froze looking up seeing Henry in full wardrobe bar his contacts smiling sheepishly. Even tho you'd been onset this whole time you'd never actually spoke to any of the cast there was no need. You quickly swallowed your shock and laughed.

"Don’t matter to me, keeps me in a job so go nuts!" you both laughed he looked over the things you had out across the table, you followed his gaze. Noting how he then moved to stare at you intently, you felt a flush creep across your chest but cleared your throat nodding to the prop.

"I've used epoxy on it ...It should be a lot stronger." He hummed not really paying attention.

"Anyway its not your fault they used a mid strength glue last time.. I don't think they had a clue how much of a beating it was gonna take" he hummed then peeked over the cup that had a small amount of resin in it still.

"So I can go to town on it?" You nodded wiping your hands down and smirked at him.

"Knock yourself out muscles! I doubt even you will be able to snap that off again....And that's not a challenge either" he rubbed the back of his head smirking at you as you moved dumping the cup with the left overs in a bag then in a small bucket with sand in it that was used as an ashtray for the crew on set. He looked at you questioning. You nodded to it.

"Get's hot when curing so I will leave it there to be safe then take it out when its set..." he hummed in agreement  then moved with you helping to pack up your things.

"So how long will it take to be finished then?" You froze wide eyed

"Why do they need it now?" You panicked they had said it wasn't needed today so you could work on it... did they change their mind? he quickly held his hands up

"No no we are done with it for today...I just wondered was all.." you stopped and flushed at him, you felt a little embarrassed as you had begun to cuss him out in your head thinking he was being rude trying to rush you.

"About an hour...Well I hope an hour it really depends, if there is any leakage  then I will have to sand it with my dremel...and to do a proper job of that I'd need to go through a few different grits and but if theres no leakage  or any nastiness then we should be done in about half an hour....This epoxy cures in ten to twelve  minutes but to be sure I'd want to leave it around twenty to twenty five ish but either way by the end of the day you sir will have your sword back." He looked between you and his prop wilth a huge smile.

"Sounds like a plan! .....Still feel bad tho I'm sure you have tonnes to do already...nevermind me adding to it." You waved him of with a wide grin

"Your kidding! Been waiting to get my hands on this baby since day one! Needed to see the details for my -" you stopped yourself before you said to much not wanting to 'geek out' in front of him he tilted his head sharply.

"Your what? You making a replica or something?" You flushed at him bobbing your head side to side a little.

"Well yes and no...not a full scale one I'm gonna make a mini..." his face lit up and you could see him become excited.

"You make mini's? Like wow and stuff?" He asked buzzing in the way all geeks do when they find a fellow nerd to speak geek with. You giggled an nodded.

"Yes I can't paint them to save my life but I draw and make them on the pc for people to download and use on their 3d printers....I'm more into scenery dioramas...I make tabletop boards" he grinned at you practically vibrating on the spot.

"Seriously? That’s soo cool...Do you have any pictures of them?" You smiled and nodded just as you got your phone out you both heard it Henry's name was called by Joey he sighed and gave a small chuckle.

"Looks like I'm needed...I will be back later to see them and collect my sword...If not hold on to it for me?" You gave him a funny look as he stayed for a moment giving you his best puppy eyes. You laughed and nodded to him, he grinned and quickly left. You stood dumbfounded as he stole a few glances over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. Well that was weird, normally the props were picked up by...well anyone to be stored the cast never did hence why you'd never seen them. You shrugged it off and continued placing your stuff away zipping up your bag.

That was the first time you met the man, later that day he did indeed return and spent nearly two hours geeking out looking at your collection of dioramas, he specifically liked the ones base on Lord of the rings and the few marvel and dc ones you'd done. All of which were centered around villains. It wasn't long before it became a habit that between takes he would seek you out, sometimes bringing Joey along. Soon you found yourselves together all the time, they seemed fascinated by your work and hobby always asking questions, to the point you'd snapped at them when they wouldn't shut up when you tried fixing a particularly fiddly jewellery piece . Even then they stayed sitting either side of you staring as you maneuvered the tiny gems and links back into place.

By the time the production came to a end you had all become close friends each of you exchanging numbers and always texting in a group chat. You couldn't help harboring a little crush on Henry, and you had tried but he was just so...him and maybe he liked you back? You wasn't sure but he seemed to be touchy...Not in a bad way god no! But he was a hugger and holder. When ever he was around you he always seemed to be touching you in some way holding your hand or arm as he dragged you about set,slinging an arm around your shoulders or waist at lunch or when you was working stuff like that. Maybe you were just reading into things to much but it felt like there might be something there. Or at least you hoped there might be, he was sweet funny and dorky but still mature and masculine he was basically your dream man, and then some!

You sulked today was your final day on set you were looking forward to returning home and just relaxing but at the same time you'd miss the guys. You'd all clicked with one another and were so used to them popping up whenever. You tilted your head as you ran your pen across the sketch in you book. It was a close up of Jaskier’s lute details you'd been working on. You were trying to take your mind off things you were scared of them forgetting about you, it wasn't often you managed to click with people let alone men, you supposed you were anxious usually you were fine alone but you found yourself craving company since hanging around them. You glanced up when you heard them before you saw them as they approached you . Sitting up you quickly shook off your sadness as they both made their way across to you.

"Hey bitches" they chuckled at you taking seats at the table the three of you had claimed for the past months.

"God I can't believe its over...I cant wait to see it!" Joey said enthusiastically make you and Henry nod.

"Me neither its gonna be incredible! Its gonna be big you know that don't you? After the great flop of game of thrones their fanbase are gonna be lost and looking for something similar" Joey blinked he hadn't thought of that.

"Really? Didn't think of it like that." You smiled at him and wriggled your eyebrows "And you sir are never escaping that fucking song either so be prepared" he furrowed his brows

"How’d you know about that?" You smirked

"It was one of the few scenes I was allowed to watch them film...and it was stuck in my head for a fucking week the worst bit? I couldn't go and download it from youtube either it was hell!" He chuckled at your frown and leaned over you his eyes caught the page you were working on it was the first time he'd caught a glimpse at your artwork.

"Oh shit! That’s cool" you looked down alarmed then went to cover your image but he had already pulled it from under your nose.

"Henry look!" You flushed a not wanting them to see your sketches. He smiled and flicked a few pages. He looked up through his lashes at you.

"These are really good y/n super detailed... They for your mini's?" You nodded at him sheepishly as you noticed he had found your Geralt cheat sheet. He smirked seeing the page full of his Geralt pulling various faces then skipped a few pages to Joey's Jaskier.  He past it back to him.

"Here there's yours" Joey gasped at them

"Holy shit...Did you do all the cast? Are you gonna 3d print em?" You nodded to him

"I did the main cast once I get home I’m gonna start putting them into the computer but yes eventually they will be printed for people to use...After I sort them out  I’m gonna be making a witcher diorama to display them." Henry smiled at you

"Can you teach me to make one?" You blinked at him not sure you’d heard him right

"What?" He nodded to your book.

"Id like a set for my collection and small a diorama for them...I have always wanted to try it but it seems expensive to get the stuff if I’m crap at it...And it would be fun to make one with you...If you wanted to that is?" You flushed at him gaping.

"Err Ive never done a collaboration before but sure we could give it a go...Could do a witcher one for you to display these mini's...I wont be painting them tho not good at it, sketching is fine but I can't do detail paint....scenery is more forgiving... " he nodded enthusiastically at you like a kid on Christmas.

"Really! Fuck Absolutely! I always wanted to try scenery that would be brilliant." He flushed a little as Joey snorted at him and received a sharp look. It had become common knowledge that he had a thing for you. Everyone seemed to have caught on to it and had all told him to go for it but he was shy...He was nervous what if he had read you wrong? And you didn't like him back? He would be quite embarrassed  and torn up if he asked you out and you shot him down...so no he would settle for being friends.You smiled at him missing their exchange between them.

"Err sure just let me know when your free...I’m not that far from You in London right? Just give me a heads up when you wanna come round" Henry looked ecstatic, it was true he had found out a few weeks ago you was literally Fifteen minutes away from his place in London. He realized you had caught him staring blushing he moved directing his attention back to your drawings again. Joey noticed the awkward moment and swiftly poked your side.

"I want some too! A perfect mini me! Just what everyone needs" You scoffed

"A mini you sounds like a threat! god help us all!" You all laughed spending the remaining time reminiscing on the last few weeks until finally it was time for you to leave. You pouted hugging both of them.

"Gonna miss you two have fun on the promotion tour and stay in touch okay guys" they smiled hugging you back Henry squeezed you tight pulling you up off of the floor making you whine at him.

"I will definitely call and will probably be round September October time" you nodded and finally wriggled away from him leaving the hotel heading home.

Once home you quickly got to work uploading and designing your mini's on the pc you had been speaking to the boys a bit but as time went on you heard less and less from Henry until finally six weeks later all conversation had stopped. Which really didn't surprise you, he was busy...Well that's what you told yourself, it was a shitty excuse you were saying to keep yourself from getting upset. you had found yourself enjoying his company to much. You liked him like liked him, it was fun talking to him,  he was interested in the same things as you and was funny and you had brilliant banter you wasn't constantly worried about how you acted around him because he just got you, you thought you’d both got on well and could remain friends. Somewhere in the back of your mind you stupidly had hoped something would come of it ....But that was a silly childish fantasy. Still you asked Joey a few times and he said that Henry was dealing with some stuff and would come around eventually but it did nothing to cheer you up. You resigned yourself to the fact that he was bored and needed someone to talk to on set that was it. You and Joey still spoke at least once a week even if it was just a quick 'hi how are you?'. You could kick yourself as even when you realized Henry wasn't going to meet up with you, you still began his diorama... Some silly little hope that he might still show but it was unlikely so the diorama was now yours ,you'd planned to make one using your new Netfilx witcher mini's the base was done and you were building up the Styrofoam. The design was going to be a small woodland area with a tiny waterfall running into a stream next to the witchers camp in which the four main characters would sit...Well five including roach. You sighed looking at the blocks of Styrofoam they had been glued down and are now ready to be carved. It had been ready for two weeks but... You suppose it was a little hope that if you didn't start it he would come around like he said. But when Christmas came and went you finally realized he wasn't coming.

Just as you moved to the wall socket and turned on your hot wire cutter you heard the doorbell go frowning you got up dragging your feet as you walked through the kitchen to the hall, as you got closer you could see a huge frame through the frosted glance. It looked a lot like..

"Henry? What are you?" He smiled sheepishly down at you. He chuckled nervously.

"Ah hi y/n...Long time no see?" You crossed you arms at him making him gulp.

"What can I do for you?" You tried keeping your voice even tho inside you were a a quivering mess of irritation anxiety and my god you felt weak in The knees and all the man was doing was standing there!how you even formed words you don't know. Henry the man you'd been pining over was here. He was on your doorstep. And you hadn't let him in what the fuck? why hadn't you invited him in yet?. Pride was the answer, you didn't want to seem desperate. he just straight up ignored you...for months!. You were intent on being angry with him, wanting to give him a piece of your mind. just as you rose your gaze to his you froze.Shit. you gulped eyes softening as you took in his appearance, he looked so anxious and guilty? even then he took your breath away, as gorgeous as you remembered him. he stood a little less confident to what you remembered shoulders slouched his eyes darting around almost as if he was fearful of your reaction, you took a deep breath gripping your front door in a white knuckle grip.He looked to you neighbors door step seeing the nosey old women Mrs Hamlin standing there staring outright, then turned to you going a little red twisting his coat pockets in his hands sighing, sucking it up and started talking.

"Hey I know we haven't been talking its just I ah...well I got a little caught up with the promo tour and that then had to negotiate season two and on the way to the final stop I lost my phone-well I destroyed it really dropped a fucking dumbbell on the thing in the gym..Then Christmas was hectic...Anyway that’s not the point...The point is by the time I got a new phone and found Joeys number and had him send me yours it...I felt like I had left it to long to reply... I wasn't sure if you'd be angry thinking I was ignoring you..." you blinked up at him stunned. That’s why he suddenly stopped he broke his phone and lost you number? You took a step back feeling incredibly stupid. You’d honestly began thinking the worst of him. You felt so bad.

"So...instead of phoning or texting you thought you'd just...come round?" He winced at you tone

"I wanted to talk in person...I wanted you to know I was genuinely sorry...I am sorry I let my anxiety get the better of me...I-I should go" you panicked as he began to turn around and quickly grabbed his arm

"Thank you Henry...You don't owe me anything but you coming here to speak to me means a lot ...I just assumed you were busy...I'll admit I did get a little upset when time went on and you still didn't reply...But now I understand why, we waited for each other to start a conversation again, like a couple  of school kids...Would you like to come in for a coffee?" He grinned wide and nodded glancing to the side eyeing your neighbor who had continued staring at him. You followed his gaze she was really giving him the evil eye.

"What er what is wrong with your neighbor? I mean I knocked on the wrong house but she is kind of freaking me out." You glanced at her and smiled waving

"Morning Mrs Hamlin" she hissed out a pleasant 'go fuck yourself' at you and entered slamming her door. You laughed at Henry's shocked face.

"She's just not a people person...Any way come in your letting all my heat out" you moved to the side letting him enter the small hall closing the door behind him.

"Hang your coat up and I will get some tea on" he did as you asked and followed you to the kitchen then spied your hobby room.

"Is that where you do all your bits?" You smiled nodding as you made the tea

"Yep! Here come in I was just about to start on the witcher one you can help carve, here I'll show you" he followed like a lost puppy paying attention as you began to guide him through the steps letting him carve out the shapes you wanted smiling ear to ear the whole time as you showed him your plan for the scene.

It took a week but finally the diorama was finished, Henry bless him had found some of the steps tricky resulting in a few cuts and burns from the hot wire cutter but he had enjoyed every second of it.Today was the last day working on the project everything was done and you both looked at it.

"Wow its a lot of steps but...It look so realistic...I loved doing the water ripples using the airgun tho it was genius!" You smiled looking at it then jumped up.

"Not finished yet tho here, I printed them last night." You moved over to a small tub with your Netflix Witcher cast mini's and roach in it, they were in isopropyl  alcohol to clean them up after printing. You'd spent some time re-scaling them to fit the scene you'd just finished. His eye went wide as he saw them.

"Wow...these are from your drawings...How'd you get so much detail...May I?" You nodded to him as he carefully moved them from the tub and inspected them. He was fascinated.

"Thank you so much! Their great...perfect even...I've had so much fun this week" you patted his arm

"Me to big guy, its been nice having someone around to talk to, your really good with a bit more work you’ll be making your own in no time" he moved placing the mini's on the finished diorama then stood back.

"That’s a bit of a stretch don't you think...I'm dreading painting it tho.." you laughed holding your hands up.

"Hey don't look at me I print em you paint em that Mr Cavill was the deal" he rolled his eyes biting his lip. The last week had been above and beyond what he had hoped for. He couldn't help wanting more from you tho, he in a way felt a little selfish he wanted you to himself. He stood tall in front of you contemplating his next move.Should he?. Could he? He knew he wanted to try and pursue you but he still had doubts. You blinked and gulped seeing a heated glint in his eyes that was clouded with anxiety.

"Hen-henry?" He hummed in response his heart just about jumping out of his chest as he moved in slowly noticing you leaning towards him to...Did you want him to kiss you? You looked like you wanted to kiss him... Should he let you kiss him first? Or was he reading this all wrong. Fuck. He couldn't take it his nerves and thoughts buzzing he panicked momentarily and just went for it. Dipping his head quickly he connected his lips to yours tilting his head he moved closer shuffling his feet forward. It took you a few seconds to realize what he was doing but when the shock finally disappeared you moaned into him moving to cup the back of his neck. He grunted pulling back for air taking one large gulp then wrapped himself around you pinning you to between himself and the table, clutching you to his front cradling you against him as you accepted him into your mouth groaning as he was quick to explore, dragging your tongue to dance around his moaning and teasing you letting his hands fall to cup your bottom grabbing the full cheeks rolling them around lightly then pulled back from your mouth. He looked down through half lidded eyes and smiled seeing your dazed expression.

"Well...That was, a long time coming and definitely worth the wait...Hopefully i wont have to wait as long for the next one?" you glowed red at that and wriggled a little freezing noticing he still had a firm grip on your ass. You nodded shyly at him.

"Y-you waited to do that?" He nodded moving his hands up from your ass to your sides smoothing his thumbs across your ribs lightly not willing to let you go for a second.

"Yes..For a long time the others were pestering me but I was shy...Wasn't sure if you'd like me or not...Didn't want to ruin our friendship..." you stuttered looking up into his sparkling eyes seeing him flustered and shy made you feel a little better

"Of course I do!...Had a crush on you for...well a long time but just like you I didn't want to rock the boat" he looked at you shocked then laughed loudly.

"Well now that we both know where we stand would you like to order in we could get your favorite?"

"You know what my favorite food is?" he tilting his head down to yours with a knowing grin taking a deep breath he started listing off a few of you favorite's.

"Of course I do, Chinese is your top sweet and sour chicken chow mein and hors d'oeuvres namely seaweed and prawn toast and Japanese is a close second wagamama's if I remember correctly , your favorite chocolate is Lindor and favorite drink of all time is apple juice" you gaped at him, he had remembered all that.

"Wow I'm impressed you listened to my nervous rambling let alone took anything from it" "I love listening to you, you get so passionate about everything you love its cute..Hard not to pay attention...what do you mean nervous?" you felt all giddy when you realized he had been paying attention as you rambled on about what you thought was random uninteresting things.

"Well I'm always a little nervous around you...I do have a crush on you." he chuckled pulling you closer pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"That makes two of us, any way Chinese? My treat?" you jumped up nodding at him definitely up for some take out.

"Absolutely! but I warn you I can eat...Like I EAT." he chuckled moving down to give you one more kiss then pulled away from you to grab his phone to order online.

"And we can watch Netflix" you faltered and smiled up at him impishly causing him to raise a brow.

"I-I err don't have Netflix..." he gaped at you blinking as if you had a second head

"What? how could you not- you worked for them..Have you even watched the witcher yet babe?" you flushed at the pet name...And the embarrassing truth of why you'd avoided watching the show.

"W-Well you see that err...No I haven't...Kind of avoided it to be honest.." he frowned at you, you were so excited about seeing it yet you had...Avoided it?

"Why?" you squirmed under his gaze, the blues peering down you could feel them seeing through you.

"W-Well I...It was hard I really really liked you and then you just stopped talking to me...I was upset and each time I saw you it made me worse...Like I’d been punched in the chest there was no way I was gonna get through episode one with out getting really upset so I didn't watch it..." he swore dropping his phone to the table and wrapped his arms around you tight

"Shit...I'm so so sorry love...I promise not to do that to you again! come here... I've got Netflix I will give you my log in and you can watch it ....Not when I'm around tho not too keen on watching myself much" you grinned at him as he rocked slowly with you

"Okay then deal..Is watching yourself on tv like re-watching old family videos then i take it?" he laughed pulling away nodding

"Yes almost...Maybe not as cringe tho...Now come on go get the tv on I will be in there in a second just need to order this then we can get settled and pick a film" you smiled leaving him with a quick peck then ran down the hall to the sitting room barely containing yourself as it sunk in that he liked you back and this might just be the relationship of a lifetime.

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Thirteen

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand and Elriel

Warnings: Mentions of terminal cancer, alcohol use

Author’s Note: I DID NOT THINK THIS WOULD HAPPEN TODAY BUT I DID IT. IT WAS WRITTEN IN A FRENZY.

MASTERLIST LINK

Please enjoy:)

THIRTEEN

~~~Feyre~~~

In order to keep things as comfortable as possible, Mor helped me move on the last day of Christmas training before I went home. Rhys had left a day earlier to visit his father in London. Student-athletes who were recruited from outside the country got a few extra days over Christmas break in order to travel the long distance home. The rest of us were forced to wait the full extra six days before we could go home, training for about five hours a day and sleeping the other nineteen. 

Exhausted after an early Christmas training practice on the Tuesday before Christmas, we managed to move me out of my place and into hers in under four hours. A remarkable feat. I hugged Mor goodbye outside the house.

“It’s going to be weird living with Rhys. Is this stupid?”

Mor pulled away. “I’d prefer you here with my cousin and me than with those two assholes. You have a whole floor to yourself! Rhys and I on the top, you’re two whole floors away from him. But don’t think for a second that I won’t be traveling to ground level to visit you, like, all the time.” 

I smiled. “Thanks Mor. For everything.” I meant for more than just letting me move in. Being my friend, looking out for me, being supportive even with all the drama between Rhys and me. 

Her nod told me she understood. 

She pulled me in for one last hug and then flounced into her car without a glance backward. I’d really lucked out with Mor. 

As Mor pulled away, I shifted to face the house. My new house. Two new roommates, one of them my ex. If I wasn’t before, now I had to be verifiably out of my mind.

 I shrugged even though there was no one around. Fuck it. Better than Tamlin, right?

Three and a half hours later, I had run out of music and podcasts to listen to. I couldn’t forget that the last time I’d driven home, he’d been with me. How had my love life gotten so screwed up? While my swimming had improved, and my major change was forthcoming, the romance area of my life was still an utter disaster. 

Unfortunately, one of the classic rock songs Rhys had selected on our past drive chose that moment to click on. As the lyrics filled the car, instead of turning the volume down, I blasted it as loud as it could go. Rolled my windows down. And let myself wallow the rest of the way home. 

It was already seven o’clock by the time I made it to my place. I burst through the front door, weighed down by my suitcase, bags of gifts, and swim bag (I’d be training with my old team while home for the break). 

“Feyre!” Elain’s voice floated to me from the living area to my left. I dumped all my things right inside the door to hug her. What with finals and my Christmas training, I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. While she hugged me, I glanced over my shoulder and had to force my mouth to remain shut. 

Damn. I’d forgotten Azriel was coming for Christmas. I loved Azriel, and I was so glad Elain had him (I repeated to myself for the thousandth time) but he was just another painful reminder that I was alone, and that both of my past boyfriends had chosen other, hotter, crazier girls over me. 

But I smiled and hugged Azriel tightly. Then Nesta, a little less tightly. And finally my father. Dad and I had spoken on the phone a couple of times since Thanksgiving. I think hearing about how upset I was over Rhys (I was sure Elain had told him a few things) made him worried over me, and he’d made a big effort to call this past month. I was genuinely happy to see him. 

“We just finished eating half an hour ago. We made a plate for you. It’s in the microwave.”

“Thanks, Dad.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Elain said, leaving Azriel behind.

As I sat at the table eating my dinner, Elain chattered away about how glad she was that Azriel was here, about how her finals had all gone really well, about how she was already looking forward to next semester, about how Dad and Azriel got along really well. I’d never heard her speak so much about herself in one go. It brought me so much joy for her that I thought I’d burst. I’d worried she wouldn’t find someone else, wouldn’t find purpose in her passion for nursing, for a much longer time after what Greyson did to her. 

Finally, she paused to draw breath. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been talking all about me for the past twenty minutes. How are you?” She probably didn’t notice, but her voice grew hushed when she asked how I was. Was this how Elain had felt after her breakup with Greyson? Everyone walking on eggshells around her, making sure they didn’t say anything to remind her too painfully of her ex?

I waved my hand, standing up to rinse my plate and place it in the dishwasher. “Oh, I’m fine. Four-point-oh again, and I just finished all my Gen Eds. Next semester I’ll start taking classes for whatever new major I choose.”

Elain frowned. “Okay, but you know I wasn’t asking about how school is going--even though I’m really proud of you for your grades and for having the courage to change your major. How was the move? Did you have to see him?”

I shook my head. “Move was fine. Mor was great. Haven’t spoken to Rhys since I ran into him at the Astrid Oaks leasing office.” I’d texted Elain the night that had occurred, including every detail of our encounter. Like Mor, Elain  insisted there was an explanation for Rhys’s behavior. I maintained that I wouldn’t be the one begging to hear that explanation, if it even existed. 

“Okay. You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine. You know I just want you to be happy, though, right? Do whatever’s best for you?”

I nodded. “I know. Thanks Elain. And I expect to hear more about you and Azriel later.”

The grin that split her face was so bright it was blinding. “Later. Right now, I think everyone’s waiting for us to watch Star Wars or something with them.” 

------

At eleven o’clock that night, I sat next to my window at the top of the house, watching the snow fall. It was the first snow of the year, just in time for Christmas. I’d been worried it wouldn’t snow at all this year. 

It had been a nice rest of the evening with my family. We’d watched two Star Wars movies, pigging out on junk food the whole time. I’d had to almost crawl my way up all the staircases to my room when the end credits of our second movie had rolled. I’d merely shot Elain a suspicious look as she escorted Azriel very loudly into his separate bedroom. It was so painfully obvious, I was almost sure my father knew and was just letting us girls go to unnecessary great lengths to fruitlessly keep him out of the loop. 

My phone buzzed. A text from Mor. 

Mor: Feyre?

Me: Mor?

Mor: Do you trust me?

Me: Uh… yeah?

Mor: I need you to have an open mind for the next thirty minutes. 

Me: Okay. Why?

Mor: Look out your window. Love ya

It took me a second to process Mor’s text, realize that she really did want me to look out the window I was sitting next to, and then slowly turn my head to gaze into the black, snowy night outside.

Only I couldn’t see the black, snowy night anymore.

What I did see had me scrambling backwards, falling off the window seat and backing up five feet before I realized that the man crouched outside the window was Rhys.

I stood slowly as he jerked his head at the window latch, one of his eyebrows cocked in question. Shaking my head, I inched forward and eased the window open.

“We’re three stories up!” I hissed as Rhys stumbled onto the blue cushion of the window seat, tracking in snow as he did so. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

Rhys turned to close the window, then locked his gaze with mine. “I am out of my fucking mind, Feyre. Out of my mind for going this long without explaining why everything happened. Out of my mind for going this long without telling you I’m in love with you.”

Each of his words hit me like a blow. My first instinct was to speak. . . Say something, anything. But I held back. This was his rodeo. He was the one who needed to do the explaining. 

He looked at me as though expecting me to speak.

I placed my hands on my hips, widening my stance as I stared back at him. 

He took a deep breath and plunged on. “I’m out of my mind for not doing everything I could to be able to tell you why I couldn’t tell you why what happened even happened!”

“What?” I said.

He slumped onto the cushion. “Yeah, you’re right that didn’t make any fucking sense. Let me start at the beginning.”

“Okay.”

His head jerked up again, as though surprised I was acquiescing so easily.  But I was nothing if not true to what I’d been telling myself for the past month. I wasn’t gonna come crawling. He could do that. And he had.

I led him over to the fireplace, tossing him a blanket so he could warm up. Settling myself into one of my plush armchairs, I waited. 

“So, uh, the beginning. Right. Guess I’ll take the plunge.” 

And he did.

“I liked you as soon as I met you on that recruiting trip two years ago. You were so confident, sure of yourself, even if you didn’t think you were. You had fun at that party the upperclassmen decided to take the recruits to without falling prey to a bunch of older, ‘cooler’, students. I just… Tamlin himself wanted to hook up with you at that party. And hooking up with recruits is obviously a big no-no. And you stared him down in front of everyone at that party and told him to hit the road. 

“I’d just gotten out of a shitty relationship with… Amarantha… and had lost my sister,” his voice faltered for a moment and I had to restrain myself from reaching for him, “only a few months prior. Seeing how good you were, how strong, in an incredibly daunting situation. . . It blew my mind. My favorite girl in the world had just died, and my least favorite girl in the world was the only one I’d ever really dated. I’d lost all hope and there you were, right in front of me. 

“You didn’t glance at me twice the whole night, but during the few conversations we had I knew you were intelligent, and well-rounded, and not an empty-headed athlete that some are. 

“And so I spent the whole year forgetting about you. I didn’t date anyone my freshman year. Not because I was obsessive or anything--I’m not a creep, I swear--but because I had never met someone like you before. Someone so sure of their values. I couldn’t compare you to anyone… Amarantha especially. I couldn’t get the idea of you, a seventeen-year-old girl having the guts to party with a bunch of college kids and not bow down to peer pressure. You know I disapprove of a lot of the shit that goes on with the team during the season--especially all the sleeping around and not worrying about who it could hurt. I’m just not built to do things like that. 

“And when you arrived a year later, you jumped straight into that relationship with Tamlin. I was so thrown off. I couldn’t understand why you could be with someone like that. I do now,” he added quickly, seeing my expression. “But I was nineteen! I was dumb--couldn’t figure it out. I know he was what you needed at the time. 

“Anyways. Moving past that. 

“It was when I saw you train from across the pool, never backing down, putting up with Tamlin and Ianthe’s shit, day after day… It was then that I started to love you.”

I couldn’t prevent the sharp intake of breath I took when he said that. 

And when I realized I wanted to repeat those same words back to him. To Rhys, who’d loved me for so long without ever pushing himself on me, without trying to force me into anything I wasn’t ready for, who’d encouraged me through one of the darkest times of my life.

“And ever since the beginning of this year, when something shifted between you and your friends, I’ve been worried sick about you. Finally worked up the courage to talk to you at the Halloween party, offer to drive you home, get you the hell away from the cheating bastard. 

“And then Amarantha happened.” His hands twisted in his lap. He was staring straight into the fire now. 

“I’ve never told anyone this… At least, I hadn’t told anyone else this until about two hours ago. Remember how I said everyone thought I dated Amarantha to get through my sister’s cancer?” He glanced at me.

I nodded.

“I dated her because… because she knew something, and insisted I stay with her if I didn’t want anyone to find out.”

I glanced up sharply.

“I went on one date with Amarantha before I knew we weren’t compatible. One date. After that date, I was ready to tell her I wasn’t interested, kind of let it work itself out into nothing, you know? 

“And then. . .” He trailed off. 

“Rhys?”

“Right before I drove here, I told Mor everything I am about to tell you right now. I want you to know she gave me full consent to say all of this to you.”

Ah, so this explained her texts. I nodded. “Okay.”

“Mor’s gay, Feyre.”

I blinked. 

“She’s not out, isn’t ready. She didn’t even know I knew until two hours ago. But back in high school, right before Amarantha and I started going out, Amarantha spied Mor making out with another girl in a car, at a mall twenty miles outside of town. Amarantha told me as much after I told her I didn’t things would work out between us. 

“And I knew that if Mor hadn’t told me, she didn’t want anyone to know. No one at school knew. Her family didn’t know. ”

My vision blurred. I blinked rapidly.

“So when Amarantha insinuated that she’d spill Mor’s secret if I broke things off with her, I realized I had no choice.” 

And now I could see that he was crying, too. His hands twisting faster and faster in his lap. He hadn’t looked at me for at least the past five minutes.

“I couldn’t let that happen to Mor. Mor, who was so happy, all the time, always lifting people up. The girl everyone thought was the height of confidence. That girl didn’t feel comfortable enough to share something that was such a big part of her identity. And that’s always her choice, of course, and I would never want her to come out before she was ready. And that’s why I stayed with Amarantha. 

“I won’t go into detail about everything that happened,” he swiped at the smattering of tears he’d let fall. “Amarantha broke up with me the day after my sister died. And for some reason that didn’t even feel like a weight off my chest. It was supposed to, but coupled with burying my sister a few days after that… I’d never felt so alone. And Amarantha loved that by leaving me at the worst point in my life, she’d be ensuring the fact that I would feel so alone.” 

“So when I arrived home at Thanksgiving, with you, both of us happy to be together, and Amarantha saw it. . . Her personality could not allow her to just let me be happy, let me be with another girl. So while we were at the club--she was sober, by the way, and I was definitely not, if that counts for anything--she brought it all back up. Told me she’d walk in there and tell all Mor’s friends the truth if I didn’t give it one more go with her.”

A few more tears slid down his face and I knelt on the carpet in front of him, placing one hand on his knee. 

“And it’s not an excuse Feyre. But I had no idea what to do. I would never, ever cheat on you for my own sick kind of pleasure or something. And what I did was wrong. I was too intoxicated to think clearly, to find some sort of other solution. I didn’t want to ambush Mor and tell her I knew the truth. I didn’t think it would be fair. And apparently that was stupid of me, too, because when I told her tonight she bawled her eyes out and told me she would’ve come out to the whole high school over the intercom if she’d known what Amarantha was doing to me. So I’m just an idiot, but I’m an idiot who loves you, and if there’s anything I can do to convince you to believe me, to, gods forbid, to forgive me--”

Restraint was impossible now, and I flung myself at him, straddling his hips with my legs. And he went still as death as I kissed every one of his tears away. 

When I finished doing that, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, my hands resting on his shoulders. His thumbs lightly, so lightly, slid just underneath my shirt to rest on the skin above the waistband of my pajama shorts. “I love you too, you idiot,” I whispered.

My words unleashed him. His touch went from light to firm, his hands gripping my waist and pulling me as close to him as possible. His mouth found mine and our tears mingled as his tongue swept across mine. 

“You really--” He broke off as I covered his mouth with mine again, unwilling to be separated from him for a moment longer. He pulled back. “You believe me?”

I brought my hands up to cup his cheeks, slide them down his shoulders to his chest. “Of course I do.” 

He stood up swiftly then, his mouth locking against mine, his hands gripping my ass. I could feel him hard against me as he strode for the bed, laying me softly on top of it. He stood there for a second, looking at me. Smiling. 

“Let’s not waste time,” I hissed, grabbing the neck of his t-shirt and pulling him down on top of me. 

And later, when he paused to ask me, “Are you sure?” as he hovered above me, both sets of our clothing in piles on the floor around the bed, I nodded. “Yes,” I breathed. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

--------------------

TAGS

@queen-of-glass​ @aknymph​ @sleeping-and-books​ @fabfire​ 

[ilkkawhat]

All the numbers. (If not all then pick and choose a handful to answer).

lol you’re really going for it anon, huh?? 😂 bless your heart. I’ll do all of them and then idk. if anybody wants to send any again, I’m sure I can have a different answer

(I did just answer 7 & 22 so I’ll leave those out. rest below the cut)

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I guess if you count all of my active WIPs that have been sitting dormant for months or years, there’s those since I like. I know what I’m doing in pretty much all of them, just as I know what I’m doing in some of my unpublished WIPs, but I think I just need to be in a certain mood/energy to do certain ones (ie, Agony esp is a very heavy fic so I gotta be able to Deal with that)

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

I deleted those 😂😂😂 but some of my reeeeeealllllly old stuff is still out there and I cringe thinking about that and though I could easily delete those too, I’m keeping them just since the harddrive that has the docs for it is corrupted lol

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Just all over the place these days tbh. Even chapter to chapter it’ll change, I’ll write snippets in future chapters--and I’m talking like three or four chapters ahead--just to get it out there. But then there’s other days where I’ll sit and just write and not stop.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Nick Stokes, of course 💜💜💜

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

Any of the Macgyver characters outside of Jack. Cause though I’ll claim not to all the time, I do know that I know the CSI characters (though I’m surprised I’m able to write in their POVs outside of Nick.) I grew up with them. I have a bond with them. The mac characters? I’ve only known for like. two years now and not even that well anymore since I’ve stopped watching the show. 

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

Expanding on details. Almost every fic I write, I’ll read it again later and be like “ah shit I should have run with this idea...” but I guess that’s how I can do a sequel/missing scene

8) favorite genre to write

hurt/comfort (emphasis on the hurt, really I mean we’re talking like borderline horror)

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

See I haven’t really honed in on any one particular thing that inspires me to write. It comes out of nowhere, and the following list of things doesn’t like, always work. When I’m listening to a song. When I’m driving in the car. When I’m watching something unrelated to the source material (totes got some inspiring vibes watching Falcon and The Winter Soldier yesterday tbh lmao) When I dream. When I go on a walk. When people send me asks and I just go the fuck off and suddenly ten chapters later I’m writing a fic that they probably didn’t even want (coughSpecimenStokescough)

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

I think the last couple times I’ve like, really written it’s been in silence. Definitely alone. Don’t got people to write around, really lmao (unless you count my parents being in other rooms with obnoxiously loud televisions and tablets)

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

All of it. And I’m sure it’ll keep improving.

12) your weaknesses as an author

Dialogue. I don’t know how people talk 😂

13) your strengths as an author

Detail, description, and I also like to think--emotion? but idk. It’s hard for me to assess my strength tbh

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Oh YES! At least for the longer WIPs like Last Breath or Agony. And listen to it on a loop when I’m trying to brainstorm or write if I want to write with music on. I’ve been starting to link the playlists when I’m doing with the fic (which is not many so far)

(I think Hellbound is the only one-shot I made a playlist for that I didn’t share)

15) why did you start writing?

I honestly can’t remember, cause I think I’ve been writing stories (fan fiction or not) ever since I was in middle school?? Maybe even elementary? But I do feel like I had gotten more encouragement for it than drawing from the few people in my life that did actively cheer me on, and there’s just something about writing that is so...fulfilling? Esp since I can’t like. Just manifest the images or make the “movie” in my head, at least I can write them down and hopefully convey what I see/feel in my mind through words.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

All my neglected OCs lmao. I did and I guess on some level still do want to make an original series.

In a chilling way Veronica also haunts me cause I realize how much of that like, darkness in myself I put in her. 

And Nick, well, he’s just always on my mind.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Just fucking go for it! Don’t give a shit if anybody will read it or not. Take your time, flesh out those details. Describe what you see, what they see, what they feel. 

If you think you’re going too far...you’re not. 

keep going

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

I mean any fan fiction I read in the past has probably influenced me on some level. I know that when I came back to CSI in 2018, reading all of kristen999′s nick whump def encouraged me cause I was like “oh...there’s others like me who like to see him hurt!?!?” and I do think that maybe sometimes after I read a fic, I might like. Try to incorporate those styles I see. The way words are described, sentences constructed. Not like, copy of course but I feel like a long time ago my writing wasn’t really idk, novel-like? very short, almost read like a script whereas now, since I’ve seen the way people write their stories (some novel length stories, too), I flesh mine out a lot more.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

I don’t 😂 Thinking of my bigger projects like Agony, I do just kind make up some of it as I go with a rough outline although sometimes it is a bit more detailed--like First Flight actually has a super detailed outline but I know that once I start writing, something might come up, some twist I didn’t think of before--or even one that somebody suggests to me, but idk I feel like I do have a way of tying everything together regardless? Cause especially with those bigger WIPs I will try to go back and re-read if something seems familiar or if I’ve forgotten a detail, or if I’m planning on diving back into it after a long break from it. 

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Depends. I feel more accomplished with the long sit down sessions so I target that, but lately it’s been little spurts with maybe one big dump at the end of the week.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

Mostly cringe, but there are times I’m like “holy shit this is really good???” 

like I remember recently I re-read Agony and loved it, when I wanted to delete it maybe like. a week before that. I think it honestly depends on my frame of mind, and why I’m going back to read the fic? Cause I’ve had times where I’m like “wait what was this one?” and then I read it and laugh at how bad it is, but then other times where I’m like, “I wanna read that one fic I did...” and then I do and it makes me happy.

But, I will always kinda criticize at the same time--”aw, I could do this better, I could have expanded on this,” etc

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

My life is suuuuuuper boring so. not really lmao. One of my earliest CSI fics that actually created what I consider to be my number one OC (she’d be the lead in that original series I mentioned earlier) came out of me sitting and staring into a campfire lmao. 

also there was this teacher I had (one of those good IRL supports) that told me a story of something that happened to her (or was it her daughter?) and I turned it into a story (back in my teen days) so. I guess there are somethings. 

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

Expert? No. But I will do numerous google searches to try and figure some stuff out and get lost in a rabbit hole of “research” for a while and hope that when I do write it, it comes off as I know what I’m doing when really, I do not lol.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

haven’t really written much in this past week, and certainly nothing to be proud of, but this line hit me like a ton of bricks for Specimen Stokes and I’m in love with it:

“Because, my dear specimen, I wanted to see if you loved the danger...or if you loved me.”

[chibimonkey]

I reblogged something to my ffamranxii sideblog the other day. It wasn’t political, or a shitpost, or fandom-related. All it said was “the person I reblogged this from is someone I enjoy seeing on my dash.” I’ll admit I did it for purely selfish reasons. I wanted someone to reblog it from me. For them to see it and go “oh hey ffamranxii posts some neat shit” and to tell me through the act of reblogging that, even if I’m just posting some cute unrelated shit, or reblogging a meta discussion, or a cool fanart, that they notice me. That for one brief, microscopic minute I am a blip in someone else’s radar. That I exist, and for just a second, even if it’s because I posted some thing they also like, someone appreciates that I do.

No one reblogged it. Not a single person. I have over nine hundred followers on that blog, who reblog my fandom shit all the time, but this? In this one small thing, I’m invisible.

I know it’s stupid. It’s not like this is even the first time. All my oc posts, and anything where I try and talk about how I’m having a bad time, is just... overlooked. I talk about shouting into the void a lot, but that doesn’t really get my point across. I feel unseen and unheard. I feel completely invisible, no matter how hard I try not to be. I feel like a glitch in the matrix - unwanted, and not supposed to be here in the first place.

I’ve felt like this since I was three or four years old. I remember asking from a very young age what’s wrong with me, why can’t I be like normal kids? Why can’t I talk to people, and why don’t they listen? It’s like their eyes slide right over me, and my words go in one ear and out the other. I had a breakdown the other day to my mom. About how I’m not okay, how I’ve been very obviously not okay for years, and how I feel useless and ugly and incompetent. She just stood there and didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle as I was crying to her that I feel like no one cares about me or wants me around and how if it weren’t for my cats I wouldn’t even be alive right now. She didn’t follow me upstairs when I was done. She never brought it up at all.

I’ve been hearing “it gets better” since I was fifteen years old and that is absolutely not fucking true. Every single year, no matter how hard I try and how much faith I have in that statement - “it gets better” - my life gets worse. I’m thirty now, and in the past fifteen years I’ve been abused and assaulted and insulted; I’ve been thrown out of my home by my abusive ex and again by my father. I’ve been gaslighted and lied to and manipulated. I lost a child and had her replaced by cats - cats I love, dearly, but cats nonetheless; and I’ve had to sit back and watch them be abused by my then boyfriend and neglected by my parents, whose house I can’t afford to leave. I was overworked and bullied and harassed so horrifically at my past two jobs that I became suicidal and started self harming after having stopped for six years, and I am now so terrified of people I can’t leave my house, and barely manage to leave my bed. My therapist dumped me out of the blue, and said me and my life were too much for her. I and my cat children are regularly insulted by my father, to the point where I dread when he’s home, even if he’s asleep. I lost all my friends, and most days I think I never had any to begin with. I reached out, again and again, to my family and people who told me they cared, and been rebuffed or ignored at every turn. It doesn’t get better.

I spend between twelve and seventeen hours a day in bed, most of it asleep and the rest just curled into a ball. My appetite is gone. My hygiene is bad, because for six months during my last job I broke down every single day in the shower over everything happening to me, and the thought of standing in the shower now still fills me with dread and unease. I don’t have insurance, and my money is almost gone, so I can’t see a doctor and try to get medicated for my depression again, and I’m terrified of being dropped abruptly by another therapist. I lost a front tooth due to shoddy dental work and can’t afford to replace it, and no dental office or oral surgeon around takes Medicaid, even if I was on it, and I’m so embarrassed to speak with a missing front tooth that I just... don’t, most days. Nothing holds my interest anymore. I used to love to read and watch tv and draw and play video games and write, but I lose focus after twenty minutes, and my last attempt at posting my writing - the latest chapter to a fic that had a handful of followers - was met with silence, and now when I try I’m filled with self doubt so terrible I just give up.

And no one, no matter how much I blatantly state I want them to, has ever asked me if I’m okay. It’s like screaming in a crowded room and no one even notices me, not unless they need a scapegoat to vent their own frustrations. I can’t even open my mouth anymore without my father screaming “SHHHHHH STOP YELLING,” so I don’t. I don’t have a support system. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m not okay, and I just want someone to give a shit about that. I hate myself so much, and every single day I hate myself more and more. It doesn’t fucking get better. I TRIED. I tried so hard. But there’s something wrong with me, something about me that makes people look at me and go “fuck that bitch.” I mean, at my last job, my then boyfriend was diagnosed with cancer and nearly died, and I had to take time off to be with him because we thought he WAS going to die, and NO ONE ever asked me if he or I were okay. I came back my first day and was immediately written up for something I didn’t do and wasn’t allowed to dispute and my coworkers all called me “what’s her face” or “move.” Like. Who does that?

There’s something wrong with me, some critical update that other people got in their How To Be A Person software that I just don’t have. That’s glaringly obviously missing when I try and interact with people. And I know life isn’t the same as on tv but... other people have friends and family who support them, don’t they? Isn’t that, like, a real thing? Why don’t I? Why doesn’t anybody care?

Honestly, I’m expecting the same reception here that I got on my sideblog and with my mother. I just. Need. To get this off my chest, because I haven’t left my room in three days or my house in over a month or talked to another person in I don’t know how long and every time I bring that up as an example of not being okay I feel like no one else feels that way. Like maybe I’M wrong for thinking that’s not normal. And then I just spiral again about how there’s something wrong with me.