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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Note

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #sir lewis #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers imagines

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staywhelmedbatfam · 3 years

Text

Reunited

~Damian Wayne/Reader~

Summary: You had thought things were going well between you two. That is until he up and left the city without a single word. When he suddenly appeared one night, you made it your mission to get answers.

Hello all! It's been a while since I've posted any fics. The spring semester was kicking my butt and my work is really lacking in employees (as I'm sure a lot of other places are) so I didn't really have time nor the energy to get a lot written. On top of that, I've got plenty of one shots started but no idea how to end them😅

I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end this one, but I think it’s satisfactory. Enjoy!

***

“Damian?” you asked in a tone of disbelief as you stared at what you thought was his back. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. A blade quickly found its way to your throat, dangerously close to breaking the skin.

“You will only address him as The Demon’s Head,” the blade wielder growled.

You kept your focus on the person unknown to you, watching from your peripherals, as Damian turned around. Many emotions overcame you now that his identity was confirmed. He raised his hand and made a gesture while walking forward. The blade lowered, the wielder taking a step back from you. With your life no longer in immediate danger, you shifted your gaze to Damian.

His eyes bored into yours as he got closer and finally came to a stop a foot in front of you. He briefly looked away while he spoke to his subordinate, “Leave us.” As they were leaving, Damian’s senses remained alert until he was sure they had exited the room. Now that the two of you were alone, his facial expression softened as his hands came up to hold your face.

“Dam–” you started, only to be cut off by lips meeting yours. Melting into the kiss, you squeezed your eyes shut and your hands found their way to his chest. Tears began to run down your cheeks.

He pulled away all too soon for your liking. Wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs, he continued to hold your face and you stared up at him. “(Y/N)… I apologize for leaving so suddenly. I should have told you. I’m so sorry, Beloved.”

“It’s been months, Damian. I thought something terrible had happened to you, but I never heard from your family. When I finally asked them, they told me you’d left. They never mentioned anything to me because they thought you had said something to me already,” you expressed, eyes shining with new, unshed tears. “And they didn’t get into specifics either. Then I see you and, suddenly, I have a knife to my throat. What in the world is going on?”

“I never imagined this would be how I tell you about any of this. Me leaving without a word was supposed to be the best way to protect you, but I ended up hurting us both instead.” He shut his eyes in anguish for a moment and let out a sigh before continuing. “My mother and grandfather were part of a group called The League of Assassins. I was raised in the League, training to become the perfect soldier and succeed my grandfather as leader. As you know, I went to live with my father at ten years old. The only reason I did was because of an attack on the League’s compound. Mother thought that was for the best at the time. Father never even knew I existed until we showed up in Gotham. While I lived with him, he showed me a better way than what the League had instilled in me. I ended up patrolling the city as Robin alongside him.

“When Mother came to take me back, I decided I would remain in Gotham. The first couple of years in Gotham were rocky, to say the least, but I eventually came to like it. Then you came along. I was instantly drawn to you, no matter how much I told myself I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship – romantic or platonic. You lit up every room you walked into with that bright, gorgeous smile. I was in deep before I even realized it. You were the light I needed to counter all the darkness in my life. Then, a couple of months before I left, my mother insinuated that she would harm you if I didn’t return to the League. I tried to delay it as long as possible, but then I realized I was only hurting you more.”

Learning all of this new information at once and overcome with emotion, you stammered, “I–I would have come with you–”

“That’s precisely why I didn’t want to tell you. The League… it’s not a place for someone as generous and kind as you, Beloved. Had you come with me, there is no doubt in my mind that my mother would have done something to you anyway because you didn’t meet her standards. Regardless, I didn’t want you to waste the rest of your life being involved with a group of assassins when I know you are meant for so much more.” He leaned down, touching his forehead to yours, and closed his eyes. You shut your eyes too, relishing in the closeness.

Opening your eyes, you sighed before speaking, “So what happens now? I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to leave for now, but I promise you – this won’t be the last time you see me.” Damian lowered his voice as he continued, “It’s going to take some time, but I’m working on disbanding the League.”

“Just… be careful. Come back to me in one piece.”

“Your wish is my command.” He brought you in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the first. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Dami.”

***

After Damian told you about everything he had been keeping secret, you talked to his family. Since then, you’ve gone to the manor on occasion for dinner or even to help with their nighttime activities when they asked. At least the help you provided them never required you to leave the safety of the Batcave.

Even though you knew the details of Damian’s whereabouts now, you were still anxious. He had promised you that you would see each other again. That didn’t stop you from worrying or missing him. You felt empty without him beside you but pushed through each day with the thought that no news was good news.

As time passed, so did special occasions like birthdays, Valentine’s Day, and your anniversary. On the day of each occasion, you received a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sometimes there was no occasion. You would cry every time, but the flowers weren’t the cause of your tears. No, it was the hand-written note that always came with the flowers. Just seeing Damian’s handwriting was enough to bring tears to your eyes. His words made you cry even harder.

After the first couple of notes, you bought a keepsake box and a journal. The notes got put in the box and you wrote a new entry in the journal after each one. Sometimes you would write an entry even when there was no letter – when you felt like you missed him more than usual.

Your coworkers tried to set you up with someone at one point until you told them you were in a long-distance relationship. They seemed to understand but were confused since you never talked about him. The longer this went on, the more skeptical they became. Questions were asked and you tried to answer them as best as you could without telling them anything they shouldn’t know.

“Seriously, it’s complicated. The circumstances we’re under don’t really allow me to share anything. I appreciate your concern though,” you told them right before leaving work for the day. They all watched you leave and gave each other worried glances.

When you returned to your apartment and unlocked the door, you set your purse and keys down on the entryway table then kicked off your shoes. Letting out a heavy sigh, you entered your bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. That ended up being shorts and one of Damian’s sweatshirts that you took from his room a few months ago when you were at the manor. You tried not to wear it too often so his scent would last longer. Today, you just felt like you needed to be wrapped up in it.

Exiting your room, you headed for the couch to sit down and watch one of your weekly shows. You almost made it to the couch when a voice made your anxiety skyrocket and your heartbeat speed up.

“You always did look better in my clothes than I did.”

Whipping your head in the direction of your balcony, your eyes began to water. Damian stood inside your apartment, dressed as Robin. “I’m not dreaming, am I? It’s really you?”

“It’s really me, Beloved,” he replied with a serene expression on his face.

Running to him, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest as the tears spilled down your cheeks. He hugged you tight and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he whispered against your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

***

I was thinking about doing something extra with the notes and the journal. Is this something you guys would like to see? Let me know! I appreciate any comments!

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

Text

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter eleven

I’m backkkk <33 Enjoy!

Today’s chapter title comes from “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift and honestly? That song is Hotch and Reader’s song tbh

Chapter Warnings: fluff! Crime scene stuffs, case stuffs, and Hotch is an asshole at the end (what’s new?)

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Eleven: I thought, “Heaven can’t help me now.”

When you wake, you have a strange sense of Deja Vu. Hotch is shaking your shoulder again, only this time, you’re not in your bed.

“We’re landing soon,” he says softly, hand lingering on your shoulder, but you welcome its weight and warmth, forgetting for a moment that the rest of the team is on this jet.

“Mm, okay…” You bring the blanket underneath your chin, only this is when you realize it’s not a blanket.

You tilt your head down to look at the fabric, then lift your eyes back up to see Hotch isn’t wearing his jacket.

His jacket.

Oh my God.

He sees the realization on your face and smiles, but instead of commenting on it, he turns to start waking the others. As expected, Rossi didn’t sleep, but Reid is still quite frankly passed out. Emily, JJ, and Morgan are coming around, though, and upon seeing that, you scramble to get Hotch’s jacket off of you, catching Rossi’s eyes in the process.

“You were cold,” Rossi says with a shrug, and a smirk.

You shouldn’t be mortified, but you are.

After folding Hotch’s jacket over your arm, you wait until your boss is sitting back down to hand it to him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he says, thinking nothing of it as he shrugs it back over his shoulders. When he sees you’re still looking at him like that, he adds, “You were getting goosebumps. Would you have rather I let you freeze to death?”

Is he making a joke? You wonder, with the corners of his lips tugging upward. You shake your head, saying nothing else.

No wonder you slept so soundly.

+++

Upon arriving at the local police station, you’re all met with the usual: desperate officers who want you to snap your fingers and find the unsub ASAP.

And, they always look pretty displeased when you admit that you need time.

You swear sometimes people think the BAU is made up of sorcerers who can see the future and not regular humans who are just trained to recognize and predict behaviors.

Regardless, they’re happy you’re here.

“I was shocked myself when I made the connection,” Sheriff Ansley says, nodding to the pictures of the other seven victims, with Nathan and Jonathan at the end. “Those others were so spaced out, we just… Oh, it sounds bad, but when you’ve got other problems coming across your desk, they can all blur together.”

“We understand,” you say, trying to be the comforting one here, even though you’re feeling more and more like time doesn’t exist and that you’ve entered a third dimension.

A few hours of sleep and jet lag can really do a person in. Especially with the added stressor of Hotch standing next to you.

“Morgan, L/N, I need you to come to the crime scene with me,” Hotch says, and your eyes widen the moment your name slips from his mouth. Is he trying to mess with you? You figured after covering you up on the jet, he’d make a conscious effort to be as far away from you today as possible. Just because Morgan is also coming along doesn’t mean much. Profilers aren’t dense.

“Prentiss and I will go talk to the victim’s family,” Rossi says, nodding to Emily.

Reid says nothing, too engrossed by the pictures and details tacked up on the board. Though, after a moment, he says, “I need a map of the town. Maybe the region. Yeah...the region.”

A little confused, Sheriff Ansely replies, “We’ll get that for you.”

JJ notices the confusion and says, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

With everyone focused, you pile into a vehicle with Hotch and Morgan up front (you purposefully sit in the back) to head to the crime scene. Sheriff Ansley leads in her car, and about two seconds in, you wish you would’ve thought to ride with her.

“You know I have to ask,” Morgan begins, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks over at Hotch. “What did you get up to last night? Get lucky?”

Hotch looks ready to backhand his fellow agent. “No.”

Morgan keeps going. “Come on, Hotch, it’s about time you get some.”

“For now, I’ll stick to the case.”

Morgan huffs, giving in, which you think is for the better. But when Morgan turns his head to look out the window, Hotch catches your eyes in the rearview mirror.

You sink as far down as you can in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

+++

You have no clue what you were expecting when you pictured the outside of Jonathan King’s house, but it wasn’t this.

A few police cars are already here, their men having already gone in to look around, but not touch anything. A few cars look tiny next to the monster that is the mansion you’re looking at.

“I thought this was a small town,” you mutter, closing the car door.

“Jonathan’s daddy was the owner of the only car dealership in town,” Sheriff Ansley explains. “They were big money.”

“I can tell,” you shake your head. “Definitely don’t have houses like this where I’m from.”

The sheriff chuckles. “Yeah. Before they built it, this was a wide open field. Tiny house. Space for all kinds of animals. Had a red barn out there,” she points off to where a gigantic pool complete with a rock waterfall is.

You hum. “A lot changes for the worse sometimes when money comes in.”

She looks at you then, almost like she respects you a little more now. Which isn’t unusual. The sheriffs in small towns don’t exactly like having to call the FBI in for help. Some do it rather begrudgingly. It’s more often than not that you find yourself being the bridge between big city and small town.

“Any signs of forced entry?” Hotch asks the first officer he sees and they shake their head.

“Nothing. But this damn mansion is so big…” He trails away, looking around at it all.

“I understand,” Hotch sighs. “If you find anything, let us know.”

“Hotch,” you speak up, nearly tapping his shoulder, but you quickly pull your hand back. “If this unsub is a woman, then it’s likely there won’t be any forced entry.”

The sheriff nods. “She has a point.”

“How?” Morgan asks, eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.

“Seriously?” You deadpan. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”

He catches on, and drawls, “Go right ahead,” prompting you to shove his shoulder.

“Focus,” Hotch scolds. “I hear you. He probably let her in.”

“Did Jonathan have a reputation of being a player?” Morgan asks. “Take a lot of girls out on dates? Get serious with a lot of them but never marriage-serious?”

Sheriff Ansley nearly snorts. “Oh, yeah. He was the town’s bachelor. New woman every week. Swore every single one was The One.”

You nod slowly. “He must’ve picked up the wrong one, then.”

“Evidently so,” she replies quietly, leading the three of you into the house.

Hotch opts for looking around the house with the sheriff while you and Morgan go to Jonathan’s bedroom.

And he’s still lying there. Wonderful.

You nearly gag, but stop yourself. You’re never going to get used to this shit. At least there isn’t blood literally drenching the walls like that other case.

Moving on.

“Looks like it’s the exact same MO,” Morgan comments, idly checking the body for anything the officers might’ve missed.

You dig around on Jonathan’s dresser, drawers, nightstand, everywhere.

“This guy was seriously rich,” you mutter, picking up a few really expensive watches. Upon opening one drawer, you literally find a wad of cash. At least two thousand dollars, stuffed in between pairs of socks. “The unsub didn’t take this?” You hold up the cash to Morgan.

“She must not’ve spent time here,” he concludes. “Doesn’t look like she took any trophies either.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you say, then crack a smile. “So you’re on my side then, huh?”

He turns his head, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“It’s a woman.”

Morgan chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m on your side. This has woman all over it.”

“Kiddo,” you groan, tossing the cash back in the drawer. “Any clothes from the unsub lying around? I’m guessing she’s smarter than that.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing,” Morgan says, going into the bathroom. “The window in here is locked tight.”

“I really doubt she forced her way in,” you say. “He probably took her out on a date, brought her inside willingly, and didn’t realize until it was too late that he should not have messed with her.” You pause. “Does this place have security cameras? It looks expensive enough to have them. We should get Garcia to get the footage.”

You’re too busy rambling to see that Morgan has walked back into the room, only this time he’s eyeing you carefully.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Listen, I know these guys were…” He gestures rather than saying it.

“Rapists?” You say tiredly, placing your hands on your hips. No need to be afraid of saying the word around you. You’ve heard it plenty and said it yourself more times than you want to. “What about it?”

“I just wanted to say I know how good it can feel to see someone like that taken down,” Morgan says slowly. “And then you feel guilty for feeling good.”

You set your jaw, hating he’s right. You’ve yet to admit it to yourself, though. Isn’t it wrong? On multiple levels? You’re supposed to catch the bad guys, not relate to them so much that you understand why they’re doing this.

“And I know it can also bring up some bad memories, but, I’m here for you,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, Derek,” you whisper. “It does...kinda feel good, but...I know it’s the wrong way to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Make a difference,” you shrug. “If I killed Trevor, I’d be taking the short route. That’s why I’m here. To make a bigger difference.”

He smiles then, gently. “And you’re doin’ it. Trust me.”

You let yourself smile, too. “Thanks. Now let’s get back to work before boss man comes in here telling us to focus,” you mimic Hotch’s voice and tone at the end, making yourself laugh as you turn back around.

And that’s when you have the absolute shit scared out of you because Hotch is standing there, frowning at you. Oh, he totally heard that.

“Sorry, sir,” you murmur, knowing you should apologize while you’re ahead.

Thankfully, to save yourself from embarrassment, Morgan’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out and puts it on speaker.

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

“All of our other victims? Yeah, they were accused of rape, too. Four of them were acquitted or blatantly dismissed, three of them with such short sentences it probably felt like a vacation.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds about right.”

Hotch eyes you, but talks to Garcia. “Get us a list of anyone in this region that fits those same criteria.”

“Already done, and it is heading to JJ as we speak.”

Morgan shakes his head at how good she is. “Oh, and check and see if you can get the footage from Jonathan’s security cameras at his house. Y/N thinks he should have some.”

“She’s correct, I just found them,” Garcia says, no doubt through a smile. “I’ll send the footage over and start looking.”

“We should get back to the station and go over those names, see if we can narrow it down at all,” Hotch says. “Hopefully Garcia can get us something from that video.”

+++

Garcia gathers one thing from the video, but it’s not anything to do with facial recognition.

For now, it’s obvious this woman is a strong suspect because she’s the only one seen entering and leaving the house (she walked out right through the front door with her head down) in the window of time that Jonathan was killed. But...

“There’s not a clear shot at all,” Garcia says. “Because they’re… How do I put this? His lips are basically attacking her face and it’s a miracle they made it inside instead of just going at it against the door.”

Morgan snorts out a laugh, Reid (who is working on connecting the nine victims further) goes impossibly red, and Hotch shakes his head.

“Well, we’ve got a physical description now,” Rossi says, trying to see the bright side before Hotch loses it, you’re sure.

“Yeah, but it’s just a young brunette in a dress and heels,” Emily argues. “That’s nowhere near narrow enough.”

“Brown hair is actually the second most common hair color,” Reid supplies. “The most common is black, but they’re usually lumped together in studies. A recent one found that 84% of the world’s population has dark hair. But, of course, women are more likely to color their hair than men—”

“We got it, kid,” Morgan says gently, tapping Reid’s shoulder to get him to slow down.

“So,” you chuckle, “she has dark hair, which are the two most common hair colors.” Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a thought occurs to you. “Wait, can I see the video again?”

Garcia plays it again.

“Pause there,” you point to the woman’s hands. “See how she reaches for his wrist?”

“Where are you going with this?” Morgan asks.

It’s then that it occurs to you just where you’re going with this, and you try to hide your embarrassment.

“You can play it again.” After a few seconds, you get Garcia to pause again. “See? She tries to pin his wrists. She’s dominating. She’s the one in control there. See how his back is against the door, too? He didn’t start that way, she turned them around to get the upper hand.”

“So she’s confident,” Emily ponders.

“In sexual situations, at least,” you add. “Some women who are outwardly shy, but like to dominate in bed. It can be different for everyone.”

“So you’re saying we’re looking for a super quiet, shy woman?”

“Not necessarily. Given that she has had enough confidence to kill these nine men without anyone noticing, I’d be willing to bet she’s pretty confident now. It could be a newfound confidence, or she honestly could have always been this way. A lot of Dominatrixes are pretty confident outside of the bedroom, too. Maybe not in the same way, but they are. Just comes with the territory.”

“A territory you seem to know a lot about,” Morgan teases, poking your shoulder.

You scoff. “You wish.”

But your eyes find Hotch’s and you feel another rush go through you, all the way to your toes. You burn every single time you’re underneath his gaze. Averting your eyes quickly back to the screen, you try to shift in your seat in the least noticeable way.

It’s not like he doesn’t already know. If he seriously doesn’t know or at least have some suspicion, then you might suggest he get a new profession.

Redirecting the attention back to the case, Hotch turns to Sheriff Ansley and says, “We’re ready to give a preliminary profile.”

The team stands to head out to the main area. You and Hotch are the last two left, which you’re sure he did deliberately.

“You should take the lead,” he says, and you swear, your heart falls out of your ass.

“What?” You’ve never taken the lead on a profile in your life. Why would he just spring this on you right now? On this case, of all cases? Seriously?

He doesn’t change his mind. “I trust you to get all of the details right. And we’ll jump in when needed, but I want you to take the lead.”

You’re shaking your head. “Hotch, I haven’t—”

“It’s an order,” he says, voice firm. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?”

Bastard. He did it again. “Yes sir.”

And your jaw nearly ends up on the floor when he smirks, a quiet, “Good girl,” falling from his lips.

Damn him. Now you’re supposed to give the profile? How bad would it be to let Emily take over so you can jump Hotch in the nearest supply closet?

You never find out how bad it would be because Hotch walks out and thanks the officers for being there, and introduces you, giving you zero time to recover.

“Thank you so much for your patience,” you say first. “The unsub we’re looking for is, in fact, a woman, confirmed by some security footage that was recovered from Jonathan King’s home. She’s a brunette, average height, attractive, and she’s confident. She’s killed nine times and hasn’t been caught yet, so she’s likely to be gaining confidence.”

An officer raises his hand, so you nod to him. “No offense...but your description fits practically every girl in this town -- I guess, besides the killing part.”

“That’s what we figured,” you admit. “Unfortunately, this kind of unsub is the hardest to catch. They don’t stand out at all, they blend right in. It’s partly why they go so long without being caught.”

“But they’re not impossible to catch,” Rossi adds, helping you out with the annoyed officers. “This unsub has already killed twice in a week, which could be a sign that she’s beginning to devolve. When they’re in this state, they are easier to catch because they tend to get reckless and forget things, change patterns, which is what we need.”

“So we need to keep a tight lid on this for now,” JJ says. “The media isn’t going to cover this at all tonight because we need our unsub to believe she’s still getting away with it.”

Another officer pipes up. “If the news isn’t gonna report this, how can we keep people safe?”

It’s a valid question. It’s one that you always get when you decide to not have media coverage.

“Keep an eye out. And don’t take any women home,” Morgan offers.

But that doesn’t seem good enough, because the same officer says, “All due respect, sir, but asking a man not to do that is like asking him not to breathe.”

The amount of laughter and you got that right’s that you hear from the other male officers makes your stomach twist. Morgan’s small laugh makes you want to smack him.

“Well, try to refrain for a while,” you state plainly, bringing the focus back around. “If you can help it.”

Another officer says, “I don’t know if I can…” and clicks his tongue mockingly.

“Well, this unsub targets rapists,” you say loudly, placing emphasis on the word. “So if you aren’t a rapist, consider yourself safe and sound.”

That causes an uncomfortable silence to settle over the room, but you could care less. It should make them uncomfortable. It’s unfair that it’s something women have to just live with. It’s bullshit.

Emily and JJ share a look with you, the only kind women can understand. Makes you want a drink. And it’s not even late afternoon yet.

Rossi helps draw things to a close while Hotch practically stares you down. Not subtle at all. You feel it, and for that reason, you don’t look at him. But he’s hard to ignore.

Especially when he walks over and says, “I need to have a word with you,” and walks past you, giving you no choice but to follow.

Well, you could choose not to follow, but you’re not so sure you want to take your chances there. Not that the thrill of the idea doesn’t get you all excited, but now is not the time or place.

So, with your heart racing and your annoyance showing clearly on your face, you follow your boss to an office at the end of the hall. He’s waiting for you, already inside, and he doesn’t look happy.

What’s new?

He shuts the door behind you, his arms crossing over his chest again.

After a few moments of silence, you raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“Don’t be a brat,” he says sternly, causing your stomach to twist for different reason. “And don’t say what. You know what.”

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”

He looks ready to absolutely devour you in the worst way possible, yet he doesn’t move. “I understand that after the case in your hometown—”

“God, why does everyone keep bringing that up?” You’re two seconds away from throwing your hands in the air like a child, but you stop yourself after the look he gives you.

“Because it just happened three weeks ago,” he replies, voice even. “And because it took a toll on you. That’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s just a fact.”

“You’ve never been up my ass about cases like this, not until you found out.”

“My knowing has not changed anything,” he says, and you think he might mean it. “And last I checked, this is your first case with a female unsub attacking rapists.”

You could punch him. You really want to punch him. “What’s your point?”

“I need to know that you can be objective,” he says. “I know you relate to our unsub. I know how easy it was for you to put yourself in her shoes. You did it almost immediately. I bet you knew it was a female unsub within the first few seconds of the debriefing.”

He’s right. Dammit. “And?”

“I need you to be on our side of this case.”

“I am!”

“Are you?” He counters. “If you knew who this unsub was, would you turn her in?”

“Are you suggesting—”

“Hypothetically.”

“Yes! For God’s sake, yes, I would turn her in.”

“Are you being honest with me?”

“What is wrong with you today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you have something else to say you might as well say it while we’re alone.”

He doesn’t move. Or say a single word.

So much for that.

“Look,” you uncross your arms, tired of fighting already. It’s exhausting on any normal day, but pair it with jet lag and it being between you and the man you obviously care for, and it’s a million times more exhausting. “Yes, I get where this unsub is coming from. Honestly, if it was legal and if there was a market for a job like what she’s doing, I probably would’ve gone into it instead of the FBI. But there isn’t. Because killing people is illegal. So I decided to go to the FBI to make a bigger difference— a real difference. Yes, I relate to the unsub. I get why she’s doing what she’s doing. But just because I get it doesn’t make it right.”

“Good,” he nods. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I shouldn’t have even had to say it.”

The room falls silent.

Hotch sees it then, that look in your eyes. During the profile, it was all determination and confidence. When you entered the office, it was bratty and defiant.

Now, it’s hurt.

That’s all he sees. And frankly, that’s all you’re feeling.

Since he doesn’t say anything else, you take it upon yourself to say, “Excuse me,” and join the team in the conference room with only one question on your mind.

Does he not trust me at all?

Next chapter

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sylvie-writes · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Just the Way You Are

word count: 1982

request:

warnings: talks of negative self-image. please don’t read if this will upset you!

a/n: this is part 5 of (undetermined) of me trying to finish requests that have been sent in ages ago. IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. it’s been hard to write but hopefully these will do. please ignore any mistakes, I typed this a bit fast and didn’t really check.

Chris

You and Chris were getting ready to go to one of his closest friend’s wedding.

This would be the first time you would meet each other so making a good first impression was a must.

Chris had gone to pick up his suit from the dry cleaners and you were currently scouring through the four dresses your sister-in-laws had lended you.

The wedding was a summer wedding and it was gonna be held on the beach.

As of recently, the heat had gotten worse each day meaning you didn’t want to be stuck in a dress that caused you to sweat like a runner after 12 miles.

Both of Chris’s sisters had noted this and unfortunately all four dresses before you were above the knee, something that made you uneasy.

It seemed that when you were going to meet people or attend public events, your insecurities crept up even more than usual and your mind would shove negative thoughts down your throat.

You were gorgeous, no doubt, but with such poisonous thoughts of yourself, you couldn't see any beauty as your reflection stared back from the mirror.

The first dress was a lacy yellow v-neck dress. It slightly flared out to the sides and it complimented your figure beautifully.

The second dress was a black bodycon, which made you want to scream. While to the average eye, your curves flourished under this dress, all you could see was a belly and hips that you wanted gone.

The third and fourth dresses were similar with thin spaghetti straps and flowy bottoms which reminded you of a bell.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris had come back sometimes in between trying on the second and third dress.

He peeked through the door, admiring how amazing you looked.

Chris kept thinking how lucky he was to have such a woman until he heard yells of anger that shook him from his daydream.

That was when you tried on the last dress and the final straw was gone.

Your anger turned into tears as you collapsed onto the food feeling nothing but pain and worthlessness.

In seconds, Chris was on the floor with you, wrapping his arms around your front where your arms were held up to your eyes.

He rocked you back and forth, shushing you gently.

“(y/n), honey, speak to me. Tell me what I can do to help you?”

Words were worthless at this point and all Chris could make out was “dress.”

He put two and two together and realized that you were upset with the way you looked.

For some time now, Chris knew this had been a problem, but he didn’t realize it would bubble up this badly.

He knew words of his compliments wouldn’t help at all because you’d just say that he was lying.

All he wanted was for you to see yourself through his point of view because you were like an angel.

“Hey, love, listen to me.”

Chris removed your hands from your eyes and looked at you in the mirror.

“You are stunning, always and forever. Your body does amazing things for you and for me.” He chuckled at the end causing you to laugh a bit, a sad smile on your face.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I would never lie to you. I made you that promise all those years ago and I will keep it forever, you understand me?”

You nodded just wanting to shrug this whole embarrassing experience off. You were never one to want people to see you like this because it felt like you were vying for attention when you weren’t.

“No, (y/n), I want you to say.”

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Yes, I know, Chris.”

He smiled and kissed your temple, “There’s my girl. Now c’mon, let's keep this dress on and I’ll help you with your makeup.

Ransom

You and Ransom were at one of Harlan’s publishing parties.

The family was up to their usual shenanigans leaving you and Ransom to sip on one too many drinks to stay interested.

One Joni walked away after trying to sell you some of her face moisturizer that cost more than the largest bag of dog food, Ransom snuck up behind you and led you to the garden, away from the sight of any house guests.

“How about we sneak away and take a dip in the pool?” His eyebrows raised teasingly and it was hard to resist such an offer.

“But Ransom, I don’t have a swimsuit!” You motioned to your maxi dress that was too pretty to damage with chlorine.

You set your drink down on the cement bench and went to sit beside it before Ransom grabbed your hand and smirked.

“Fine by me, here, simple fix!”

In seconds, Ransom slipped off your dress, not even with a tear which was shocking from his usual animalistic movements.

This left you standing in your simple undergarments, yet feeling more naked than actually being so.

Ransom placed a kiss on your head before jumping into the pool in his boxers and nothing more.

He seemed ever so happy, waving his arms for you to jump in as he shook his now mop-like hair, now looking like a wet dog.

Instead, you were sitting quietly on the ledge of the pool, arms wrapped around your waist trying to cover every inch of your exposed body.

You felt so terrible like the sight Ransom would see would be so repulsive because that was exactly what you were thinking.

When Ransom noticed that you were frozen in your spot and zoned out on some dragonfly floating in the pool, he swam closer.

Ransom placed his hands on your thighs and looked up to see tears running down your nose and cheeks, dropping onto your lap.

At his touch, you involuntarily pushed him away and Ransom respected your space, floating back a bit.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

“Ransom, I don’t want to be out here like this!”

You were on the verge of yelling, but instead kept your voice at a harsh whisper.

“Are you afraid someone will see us because (y/n) I can assure you they won’t. Plus, they’ve seen worse happen in this pool, trust me.” Ransom laughed, but you didn’t and he picked up on this, deciding to remain serious for the rest of the conversation.

“No it’s not that. I don’t want YOU to see me like this!”

The man swimming in front of you was in shock at such negative words coming from your mouth.

He looked at you as an absolute goddess and he often wondered why a beauty like you would stay with a mess like him.

Sure he was gorgeous on the outside, but you were both inside and out.

“You’re just saying that because you feel like you have to, Ransom.”

You huffed and looked the other way, not wanting to even glare at him.

Ransom laid his head on your lap in defeat.

“What do you want me to do? Worship you? Because I will! Oh (y/n), have mercy on me with your beauty! You are just so-”

At this point, Ransom was speaking as loud as possible and he knew he was getting on your nerves.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “OKAY OKAY. I BELIEVE YOU. Will you just hush now!?”

Ransom looked up with a devious glimmer in his eyes, before he pulled you into the pool and you squealed loudly.

“I think you are the one who should hush now, missy!”

Andy

Andy had just gotten off from work and you had just finished making a surprise dinner.

He was delighted at the sight of homemade chicken pot pie along with two bottles of old fashioned soda, a small tradition between the two of you.

You both settled down to watch a movie with your plates of chicken pot pie.

Andy had picked a movie that you’d never seen before and within five minutes your happy mood had morphed into insecurity.

Turning, you saw Andy intently watching the movie as the most perfect woman appeared on screen and the negativity sprawled from your mind, turning nothing into something.

While Andy just innocently enjoyed the movie, your inner saboteur told you that he was more so enjoying the sight of the gorgeous woman on screen.

After all he had been stuck with you, so you didn’t blame him.

Well he wasn’t actually stuck with you, but that's what you told yourself.

You told yourself that he just felt bad for you and that is why he stayed.

Andy noticed that halfway through the movie, you were uncharacteristically quiet and a sour pout on your face.

“Gosh, imagine looking like that! That would be a dream.” A bitter laugh ended your snide comment and Andy immediately shut off the tv.

“Why did you do that?!”

Andy just shook his head, “Because of what you said! (y/n), is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“All I said was that I wish I looked like her. What’s wrong with that?” You nonchalant shrugged and turned away from his hard stare.

“Honey, I can read you very well and I can tell that wasn’t just a joke.”

You were quiet and Andy continued to pry. He pulled you tight to his chest, murmuring whispers of praise causing you to break and cry quietly.

“See, even when you cry, you are pretty.”

Steve

The funny thing about insecurities is that it can turn someone into an absolute mess or monster.

In this instance it was both.

You and Steve were at a cafe, one that you had been visiting together for years now.

Today, it seemed that the cafe had hired new employees as at least four faces you didn’t recognize were waltzing around the kitchen.

It didn’t bother you until a complete beauty who introduced herself as Cara waited at your table.

At first it was like the green eyed monster had crawled out of you and you felt shameful all until gut intuition showed you that she was being a bit too friendly with Steve.

Little glances from across the room with flirty waves. At one point you swore that she winked at him.

Her tone would instantly change anytime she talked to you and that made your blood boil.

Steve noticed your change in attitude as a borderline scary scowl worked its way on your lips.

You were burning holes into the back of her head as you thought about how perfect the two would be together.

Steve tried to nudge your half of your sandwich to catch your attention as he was clueless to what was running through your head.

“Hey, doll. Why don’t you eat your sandwich? The flies are crazy and I can’t keep them away for long!” He swatted at the nagging flies, laughing at how the tiny creatures were defeating him, Captain America.

You didn’t hear any of what he said and instead mean words that never once came out of his mouth.

“Why don’t you go be with her. She’s so perfect for you anyway.”

You stood from the table and stormed out the door, the tiny bell above it mocking you.

Steve was utterly confused at this random outburst.

All he had mentioned was the sandwich, nothing about a girl, especially the waitress, whatever her name was.

Thinking back, Steve realized that she was flirting with him, but he was just so used to being friendly that he didn’t notice that he had put up such an illusion.

Especially one that hurt you.

The only word he was able to get out was “what” before he rushed out behind you.

He grabbed your arm and spun you to face him, not angry as he knew exactly how being insecure felt.

“(y/n), you are the only one who is perfect for me.”

You just fell into his arms, remembering that you were truly the only one for Steve.

#Steve Rogers #andy barber #Chris Evans #ransom drysdale #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

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bluearson · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Girl

Request: Dabi’s sweetheart is insecure and thinks she’s not good enough for him. Warning: This one gets a little bit spicy at the end so look out You met each other in the winter, on your way to work at a quaint little café. He caught your eye and over your shoulder you swear you caught him checking you out as you walked away. It had been weeks since you saw the stranger and you almost forgot all about the brief encounter you shared. You tried your best to forget about him, you almost even succeeded but there the mysterious stranger stood. You could barely make eye contact when he stood at your register. You exchanged pleasantries and he was gone just as quickly as he came.

He kept coming back though, and eventually you began holding small conversations with him. Your coworkers even commented on how the last time he came in, he asked if you were working. When they told you weren’t in he thanked them and just left. The news flustered you quite a bit, it was something that stayed on your mind a lot longer than it probably should have. A few days had passed since then, and it still was fresh as ever in your mind. Geez.. how embarrassing it was to admit you had developed a crush on someone you met through work. “Hey Y/N.” The voice cut through your cloud of thoughts like a butter knife. You looked around and there you saw him, that same stranger who you saw often. You opened your mouth about to ask him how did you know my name? When you remembered that you wore a nametag at work, of course he knew your name. “H-Hi” You stuttered out, your cheeks redding as your eyes locked. “Can I help you with something..?” “I believe you can. It’s quite a difficult task you see.. I seem to have a dinner reservation for two. But unfortunately it’s rather expensive to cancel so quickly and I don’t think I could bear to go to dinner all by my lonesome. So, I was hoping that I could take you out to dinner, my treat.” HUH?! You were dumbfounded and took a step back from him, nearly stumbling over the uneven pavement. He was swift on his feet. His left hand encircled your wrist gently as though you were a fragile thing and he steadied you back onto your feet. “Careful now,” He cooed into your ear “Wouldn’t want you to get a concussion.” His right hand felt warm on the small of your back, the sudden touch nearly made you jump. He was flustering you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Your checks felt so hot you swear you thought he’d call you a tomato. The sound of your heart- could he hear it? It was beating so loud in your ears. This was so embarrassing! You covered your face with your hands and knelt down to the ground. Hopefully if you just made yourself small enough maybe he’d stop teasing you and just go away already. Time had passed, it felt like eons. You peeked through your to see if he was gone but alas, he was right there, squatting before you. You squeaked in surprise. “Sorry to say little mouse, I’m not going anywhere until you give me an answer. Will you be my date Friday evening?” “Sure.” You offered weakly, you lowered your hands from your face and rose back up. The stranger held out a hand towards you and made a grabbing motion. “Uhm..?” “Phone.” He bluntly replied. You tentatively held out your phone and watched as he entered in his contact information. You looked at the contact name and then back at him. “Your name is D?” “Sorry, first letter only until we know each other better sweetheart. Nothing personal. I’ll be around.. who knows.. maybe I’ll even swing by your little cafe again for some pastries.” He winked at her, “I like to think you made them yourself.” The smug look on his face as he walked away was burned into your memory. Friday evening. Why did part of you feel like you weren’t going to survive an evening alone with him? You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before the time that you were texted. You felt nervous but also excited. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to dress up and wear something nice. Your mind began to wonder as you thought about your date. “Hey” A familiar voice, hot breathe against your ear and an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder holding you close. You tensed up initially but relaxed as you glanced over to greet your date with a smile. “You clean up nice.” You noted that he even tried styling his hair for the evening. “Uhm, sorry if I’ve kept you waiting long.” “Hush little mouse, you didn’t keep me waiting.” He escorted you over to the host and whispered something to them. They nodded and gathered two menus and showed you to your table. The evening was pleasant, although you spent the majority of your time talking. You weren’t sure if he was listening to everything you said and kept worrying if you were doing something wrong. “Sorry.. if I’m blabbering on and on, you can always tell me to stop talking if you don’t care.” “I like listening to you talk, I like your voice.. and I like the things you have to say. I’m sorry I’m not really much of a talker. I don’t really like to talk about myself and well.. I’m just enjoying the view.” You smiled at him but on the inside you were absolutely freaking out. You weren’t sure you heard him correctly but asking him if he said what you thought he said was a million times worse. Winter had come and gone and Spring was in full swing. You still couldn’t believe that the same man who used to torment you with his flirting was your boyfriend. You’ve been together for a while now. You were certain that you liked him, maybe you were even ready to say I love you for the first time. You muttered it to him, whispered into his chest when you’d cuddle together after a long day at work. But you’ve never clearly told him, “I love you” yet. It was a mix of reasons why, you didn’t know how to anticipate his reaction and that scared you but also deep down you wondered, why he kept wanting to be around you. What made you stand out against the sea of other girls in the world? Why out of all the people he could date, he chose you? You kept this all to yourself of course. He’d send you nice little songs when he was missing you. He’d leave behind his hoodies when he had to go on trips for work. He no longer was the stoic man who’d unrelentingly tease you and try to push your buttons to fluster you. Behind closed doors he was the softest man you’ve ever known. You kept a scrapbook he helped put together with you, it made missing him a little less hard when he’d be gone for long periods of time. When he’d come home, you’d practically jump into his arms as you threw yourself at him. He always managed to catch you, giving your face a full assault of kisses as if to make up for lost time. “I’ve missed you little mouse.” “I’ve missed you too Dabi” You cupped his face as you stared into his eyes and pressed your foreheads together. You weren’t your usual chipper self but you tried to mask it. There was a lot weighing on your mind, namely the whole fact that this man- was your boyfriend. You still couldn’t believe it. Even after your nights of passion, you’d still half-expect that he slipped away during the middle of the night. That or you just had a vivid dream, but the soreness that you felt was far too real to possibly be fake. “Hey Dabi...” You whispered quietly. He hummed in response as he opened an eye. “Is this a dream?” You asked tentatively. “I.. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything but, I’m a little worried about our future together.” “I don’t know if we’re really there to talk about marriage quiet yet...” He shifted closer, pulling you into a hug. “Unless there’s something else going on that I’m not aware of?” “I just.. I’m a little scared one day you’ll get up and walk out of my life and disappear on me.” You burried your face into his chest as you sniffled, trying your best to not let him see you cry. “I’m not.. there are other people who are better than me. You.. You deserve better than me.” You trembled in his arms. He stared down at you he rubbed your back. “I’m sorry.. that you’ve had people before in your life that have hurt you like that. People who’ve abandoned you.. but I’m not like that little mouse. I love you. Is there something else that you need? Some way that I can prove to you how much I love you?” “No.. the world is full of attractive, beautiful girls. You don’t love me. You’re just making fun of me.. and when it stops being fun to fluster me.. you’ll leave.” You broke down into sobs, you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want those words at all to come out of your mouth. But still, he held you tight as if it was the only thing that was keeping you from crumbling in his arms. “You’ll get bored of me one day..” “Is that what you’re afraid of? Not being interesting enough for me? Not attractive enough?” He cupped your chin once you calmed down enough and wiped away your tears. “You’re more than just an attractive, beautiful girl to me though. I think you’re a gorgeous angel. I could never get bored of you.” He planted a kiss on your forehead as he rubbed your back some more. “I’m surprised we’ve made it this far. I’m always so scared that one day I’ll say something too snarky for you. That I’ll tease you so much you end up hating me for it. I never meant for you to feel like I’m just teasing you to make fun of you. I like to tease you because its cute when you blush. I like seeing you get so bashful you try to hide from me.” He grasburped your hand and kissed your inner wrist. “I love everything about you.. I love that you miss me as much as I miss you.” You sniffled as you listened to him. His words soothed you a little. “I spent so long hating my body.. the way I looked and you.. there you are, a pretty thing, a gorgeous absolute fucking goddess.. sweeter than honey. You don’t care about my scars.. you’ve never asked about them.” “Goddess...?” You asked quietly. “Fuck yeah you’re a fucking Goddess.” He grinned at you, “With your permission of course, I’d like to pay worship.” He began planting soft kisses along your collarbone and down your breasts. “So please, as the man who worships you, may I have the privilege of worshipping my goddess?” “Y-Yes.” You nodded as your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment. Dabi peppered your skin with kisses, taking his sweet time especially around your sweet spots. “D-Dabi..” “Yes, my goddess?” He kissed a trail down your stomach. “I love you..” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I know,” He leaned up to capture your lips, “I’m going to make sure you never doubt my committment to you ever again, my dear.. goddess.” Taglist: @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken @hecatve @axerrri

#Lighting the Bonfire #Dabi #Dabi bnha #Dabi x Y/N #Dabi x Reader #Dabi fanfic #soft Dabi

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

Happens For A Reason 3

Summary: the day you and drew had been waiting for has finally arrived.

AN: ITS WEDDING TIME i’m so excited for this like so excited i looked up quotes from movies for the vows lol i didn’t think i’d want to make a part 2 or 3 but i love this premise

The day had finally arrived. You had been dreaming of your wedding day since you were 8 years old and you attended your older cousin’s wedding. You saw it as the most magical day of any person’s life and your own day was happening.

The pandemic made things very difficult for you. You had to get dresses delivered to try on from home so you didn’t have to leave the house. You met with flourists and caterers over Zoom and whatever you couldn’t sort out, your wedding planner did it for you.

Drew was more than supportive. He made sure you weren’t burning yourself out with the planning and work. So if that meant him picking a DJ while you got a few hours of rest, he was happy to do it.

Though it was going to be a rather small affair, you had a vision and it would finally come into fruition.

In all honesty, you thought this day would never come. And when you had imagined it, for a while you imagined it being with Rudy. But now, the only person you can picture waiting for you at the alter was Drew.

“Okay, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Madison asked you. “Yeah are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you want to run?” Madelyn added, hanging up your reception dress. “Madelyn.” Lilah scolded the blonde.

“No, I’m not going to run.” You laughed. “I’m ready for this, I just hate the waiting.” You added. “Well, we have about ten minutes until we line up.” Madison said.

Madison took charge in making sure everything was on time so you didn’t have to worry about anything on your wedding day.

“You’re going to be Y/N Starkey at the end of the day.” Madelyn commented. The room fell in an unbelievable silence as all of the women took time to process that thought.

“I’m going to be a Starkey.” You said in a hushed tone. “Don’t cry yet! You’ll ruin your makeup. Wait until you walk down the aisle before you mess it up.” Lilah scolded you.

You finished getting yourself ready, shaking the nerves out of your body every so often.

At the other end of the aisle, Drew stood with his parents and your parents as the rest of the guests chattered.

“Well, Drew, how are you feeling?” Chase asked. “I feel great. Excited. I just want to see her already.” He answered. “You have 5 minutes. Then she’ll be your wife.” Chase said.

Drew had a giddy smile on his face at the sound of you being his wife. Wishing time would go faster so he could see you walk down the aisle.

He got his wish though when music started playing and every quieted down. Your bridal party walked down one by one and Drew was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Then it was like he was watching every dream of his come true the second you began walking towards him. It was cheesy but he had never seen a person look so beautiful and timeless as he thought you did.

He told himself he wouldn’t cry, try to be manly or his brother would never shut up about it. But how could he not want to cry when the most beautiful woman was walking down the aisle?

You stopped at the alter next to him, giving him a wink which caused him to chuckle lightly at you. The usual, traditional ceremonial stuff went by in a blur and soon they were asked to recite their vows.

You and Drew had decided to write your own vows and he found it a difficult task to do so. He didn’t know how to describe his love for you in words.

The wedding officiant turned to Drew, signaling him to go first.

“Oh wow. Okay.” He started taking a deep breath. “Not too long ago, I fell in love with a girl. I’d fallen for this beautiful girl who was so much more than pretty. She was smart, she was funny, she was brave. She had a past that wasn’t all that lovely, yet she still put a smile on her face and never looked back. And as much as she likes to say she doesn’t deserve me, I often feel it’s the other way around.” He continued.

You gave him a teary eyed smile and gave his hands a squeeze, as you could see him getting choked up.

“Y/N, I love you. And I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love. I vow to love you, and no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other.” Drew finished.

You hadn’t even done your vows and you were already a mess. You had to look up at the sky to keep your makeup the same.

“Drew. You were the one person in my life who remained a constant from the moment I met you. I didn’t know you were what I needed until I found myself in a very dark place. You were the light that made the dark place not so dark anymore. And I have fallen more and more in love with you everyday since then. I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness, and to have the patience love demands. To speak when words are needed, and to share the silence when they’re not and to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.” You finished.

You could tell that your bridesmaids and wedding guests couldn’t help but cry along with you and your soon to be husband.

Soon, it was time to exchange the rings and you giddily slid Drew’s wedding band on his ring finger, him doing the same to you. “Can we get to the kissing now?” Drew whispered to the officiant.

You laughed at him and nudged him slightly, hinting at him to be patient.

“Drew, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The man asked. “I do.” Drew answered. “And do you, Y/N, take Drew to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked you. “I do.” You replied.

“By the power vested in me and the state of North Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now, Drew, you may kiss the bride.” The officiant announced.

“Thank god.” Drew muttered as he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. After a few moments and to a standing ovation, Drew grabbed your hand and thrusted his fist in the air victoriously.

The both of you walked back down the aisle together, giving smiles to your friends and family. When you were finally able to have a moment alone to yourselves, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

“I love you, Mr. Starkey.” You whispered. “And I love you, Mrs. Starkey.” Drew replied. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing that.” You said. “I’m never going to get tired of saying it.” He said back.

@y/n__: Mr. & Mrs. Starkey at your service @ drewstarkey

@drewstarkey: forever my girl @y/n__

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #rudy pankow #chase stokes #madelyn cline #madison bailey #jonathan daviss #austin north

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lilacyennefer · 3 years

Text

The Deepest Wound Part II

A/N: I posted THIS little fic yesterday, and some of you asked for a part two, and since I got the inspiration for it I wrote it today during my lunch break at work. Hope you guys like it :)

WARNING: very, very light smut, a bit of angst

You were tossing and turning all night while Angel was peacefully snoring next to you.

Around 7am, when you had enough of not being able to sleep, you got out of the bed and headed towards the kitchen.

You know that as soon as you start making breakfast, no matter how hungover he is, Angel will wake up and you’ll have the conversation that you fear.

The memories of Angel sobbing against you, telling you that he doesn’t matter to anyone else but you makes your stomach twist unpleasantly.

You were really in love with him, the two of you made an amazing pair, no one could deny that.

Your chemistry was indescribable, so was the feeling when Angel was close to you.

It wasn’t the first night that you spent together, it happened often that Angel and you slept in the same bed, enjoying the comfort you gave for each other, and occasionally, Angel kissed your neck as he was cuddling you from behind, waking the butterflies in your stomach, and making your lower belly tighten with desire.

You wanted to do this, but you were terrified at the same time.

Angel’s footsteps break you front your thoughts, you look behind yourself just to see a fully dressed Angel, ready to leave.

Angel stops awkwardly when he sees you looking at him.

“I’m leaving.” He states “Forget about last night.”

“Angel!” You step towards him, but stop when he gives you a sharp look.

“I’m tired, Y/N.” Angel sighs “I’m tired of you constantly pushing me away, but I get it. You don’t want to be with me.”

Angel doesn’t wait for your reply, he’s about to open the front door when you reach him, pushing your back towards the door so he can’t open it.

“I know I have no right to ask this, but please hear me out.” You plead.

Angel looks at you for a long second, then he nods, signaling you to keep going.

You take a deep breath, you start “I’m sorry that I hurt you, that wasn’t my plan at all. I’m just...Angel, I’m so terrified of losing you. You’re my everything right now, and I’m afraid if we take this further we will ruin what we have. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused.” At this point you can’t help the tears that are rolling down on your cheeks “But I love you, Angel. And if you still want to be with me, then I’d happily be with you. But if you seriously had enough of my bullshit, then I understand.”

Angel couldn’t believe his ears. He thought that he was still dreaming, because it happened often that he dreamed of you, and in his dreams, everything was perfect, you were his, so when Angel woke up after a dream like this, his heart ache more than usually did, making the biker doubt even more that he deserves happiness, and someone like you.

Because in Angel’s eyes you were far too good for him, you were a doctor, you were smart and successful, meanwhile he was an outlaw.

Angel’s insecurities slowly poisoned his mind, making him believe that he deserves to be alone, and no one ever will love him, or be proud of him.

So, when you stood there in front of him, telling him that you love him, he had to pinch himself to figure out if he’s still dreaming or not.

But it was real, and suddenly Angel needed to feel you, hold you, to touch you.

The biker took a step towards you, towering above you as your back was still pressed against the door, and he leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

The kiss took you by surprise, but only a few seconds after your lips met, you melted against Angel, your hands grabbed his kutte to pull him closer as his large hands were holding your face.

When you felt Angel’s tongue brush against your lower lip, you let out a moan, the sweetest moan that Angel ever heard, and he promised himself that he will do everything to make you moan like this again.

As Angel’s velvet tongue brushed against yours, your knees went completely weak as you moaned into his mouth again, to Angel’s biggest pleasure.

Angel’s large hands roamed over your body, down to your naked thighs, his cold rings making you break out in goosebumps.

The biker sneaked his hands under your shirt, grabbing your cheeks in his hands as his lips wandered from your lips to your neck, nipping the delicate skin.

“Angel, I need you.” You breathe.

He didn’t need to hear more, he patted your thighs, signaling you to wrap your legs around him, so you did, as Angel walked back to the bedroom with you.

Angel stopped at the foot of your bed, gently placing you down on it, watching you place yourself into a comfortable position while he undressed himself, leaving him in nothing but his briefs.

He slowly climbed on the top of you, his eyes are watching you like a predator is watching its prey.

When he towered fully above you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, just like you did a few minutes ago, the skin to skin contact makes your heart flutter.

“I’m so in love with you.” Angel whispers, the look in his eyes is so intense, so honest, you curse yourself for denying this happiness from both of you.

“I’m so in love with you too, mi Angel.” You whisper back, cupping his face in your hand, tracing your thumb over his cheek, caressing him.

He closes his eyes from your touch, pushing his face more into your palm, then gently placing a kiss on your wrist.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused.”

Angel shakes his head from your words “It doesn’t matter now.” He leans down to kiss you sweetly “You’re mine now.”

“Forever, Angel.” You smile up at him.

Tag list: @gemini0410 @rosieposie0624 @blessedboo @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @mayans-sauce @mrsmarvelous1995 @phoenixhalliwell @rocketqueen @witching-hour @starrynite7114 @bellisperennis0 (send an ask or comment if you want to be added)

#clayton cardenas #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #posting this from my phone

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aperrywilliams · 4 years

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When The World Breaks You (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader makes a mistake during a case that triggers a lot of thoughts about a series of stressful events in her recent life. Spencer Reid turns out to be one of them.

Word Count: 6538.

Warnings: Mention to stressful events in relationships. Mention to possible alcohol abuse. Unprotected sex. A lot of curses. Angst. Smut. I promise it’s an ‘optimistic’ end.

A/N: For the Secret Fic Swap. An excellent idea from @dontkissthewriter and organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

This fic was written for @safertokiss. Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcomed!

——————–

We all make mistakes in life. It’s written somewhere. They tell you that since childhood. Everybody knows. But when you have to experience it, things are different: it seems nobody remembers and they throw it in your face every time they can. To err is human. Have they already forgotten it?

It’s true, there are situations where a mistake can be much more costly than others. In this line of work it turns out to be so. One misstep could result in the death of innocent people. In my case it was not like that... but it could have been. Hotch's face of disappointment when he looked at me could have killed me down in the same spot, after he himself shot down the unsub almost by the work and grace of the Holy Spirit. I was wrong. I tried myself to save a little girl from the hands of a psychopath using the most reckless strategy that occurred to me at the time. The girl might have died if Hotch didn’t appeared in the right moment.

It wasn't many minutes before my own teammates started to reproach my recklessness.

"How can you did that (Y/N)? You could have had that girl killed!" shouted Emily.

"You should have waited for reinforcements (Y/N). It was obvious you couldn't handle the unsub" Morgan barked.

"(Y/N), lucky you Hotch showed up at that moment..." JJ hissed.

"Your youthful impetus almost got the worst, (Y/N)..." Rossi mused.

"Tomorrow, first hour of the day, I want your report in my desk (Y/N), and we’ll talk about what happened today" was the last sentence of Hotch.

The only one who didn't say anything was Reid. Although his look of frustration was only comparable to Hotch's. Bent on continuing to torture myself, I walked over to where Spencer was, almost forcing him to speak to me.

“I still haven't heard any ‘comments’ from you about what happened in there. Everyone has already given me their opinion". I snapped with a challenging tone. It was the only thing left for me if I didn't want to cry right there. Reid looked at me but said nothing. “Ah, your punishment for me is the silence. Very original Reid, very original”. I left the place by getting into one of the SUV that would take us back to the jet.

The trip back home was silent. I self-relegated in one of the furthest seats. I looked out the window as the jet's wings touched the clouds. I could feel some compassionate glances from my teammates, but I never made eye contact with them. Nor when we get to the bullpen to collect our things. Nor when I quickly got on the elevator to avoid having to share it with anyone.

When I got to my apartment I just wanted to lie down in my bed. Before reaching my mission, all I did was take off my shoes. I fell slumped on the mattress. Only then did I allow myself to cry. In the solitude of my own place. Place not long ago I shared with another person. Person who decided my job was too demanding and didn’t want to pay the price for my absence. Person who was quickly disappointed in me despite having promised his eternal love in front a civil judge in our wedding. Person I believed loved me unconditionally. To be fair, I forgot that too. My love didn't turn out to be unconditional either.

Love is not unconditional. This is a learning for life my dear friends.

As Hotch requested, I was in his office first hour in the morning with my report from the day before. As he read it, I was standing in front of him with my hands crossed on my stomach and staring blankly at the bookshelf behind Hotch's desk.

"So you agree that it was a reckless decision..." Hotch recited.

"Yes sir. It was. Although the purpose was to save the life of an innocent…”. Hotch interrupted my speech.

“(Y/N), indeed that is the goal of this work, but there are rules too. And if you can't follow the rules, you can't do this job either. I hope you understand that” he stated.

"Yes sir…" was my reply.

“Due to the scope of this case, I cannot leave you without some sanction for your conduct. That is why you’ll be suspended for 2 weeks without payment. I need your badge and your gun”.

I was not surprised by the measure. Although I had a secret hope it would only be a reprimand from Hotch. Hopes are shit. I handed over my gun and my badge. I was about to leave the office when Hotch spoke again.

"(Y/N). I understand you have been through a lot in these months, please try to take these days to rest and clear your head” he suggested.

"Yes sir".

Why was I going to argue with him about it? Was it worth telling him that not even a one-month suspension could be enough to me for clear my head?

I went downstairs to my desk. Again without making eye contact with my co-workers. I grabbed my jacket and purse and walked out of the bullpen into the elevator. Before the doors were closed I heard my name.

"(Y/N), wait!". Reid with one of his arms stopped the door and got on the elevator. I looked at him without saying anything. "Where are you going?".

"I think you know where... and why too". I replied now looking at the elevator floor.

"How long?" He asked.

"Two weeks" I replied dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry". Reid lamented.

"Don’t be sorry. At least I still have my job. For now…”. I assured with a shrug, barely making eye contact with him.

"Do you need something?..." he offered.

“Don't worry about me Reid. I'll be fine". The elevator had reached the subway, opening its doors. I went out and gave him a little warm smile. He did the same. Then the doors closed with him inside. I started walking to the car to get back to my apartment.

It was strange being in my apartment so early. I’m usually one of those who leaves the BAU almost at dusk. At least that's what I had been doing for the last 4 months, after my divorce. Now I was sitting on my couch thinking about what to do in the next two weeks. No idea came to my head. I knew it would be a long two weeks.

The next day I started doing a deep cleaning of the place. It’s not my apartment has been neglected in these months, but there were many things from "my old life" I still had. I started going through boxes with my ex-husband's things: there were clothes, sporting goods he didn’t take with him, books. I also found photographs. The vast common of them I tore up and throwed into a trash can, however, I stopped at my wedding photos. Smiles were everywhere. Many of the photographs with both of us at the altar, others dancing. There was a photo of us with the BAU team at the party. Memories of that moment quickly came to my mind. Precisely after taking that photograph in particular.

After the photographer captured the moment, my husband gave me a sweet peck on my lips and told me he would go and talk with his family a while. I nodded, meanwhile the BAU girls surrounded me laughing next to me and hugging me for the umpteenth time, happy for me.

I could see Spencer walking away towards one of the corners of the garden. I had seen him act strange a few days ago. But particularly on my wedding day we had hardly spoken a word. Which was strange. Spencer was my best friend, my "partner in crime". That's how it had been since I came to the BAU 4 years ago. Taking advantage of the fact I had a moment of freedom, I approached him. He was sitting on one of the benches in the garden. I sat next to him smiling. He looked at me and gave me a smile too.

"Hey... why are you alone around here?" I asked taking his hand.

"I'm enjoying the fresh air and there is less noise here," he replied.

“I know you are not a friend of loud music. I understand you and I share that. I just must say today has been a roller coaster of things. I'm exhausted”. I confessed but I received no reply.

"Spencer?". He looked at me as if trying to tell me something without words. "What is it? Can you tell me...". After a silence that started to become uncomfortable, he resolved to speak.

"You really love him..." he said. I frowned. I didn't know exactly what he meant.

"Well... if I married him it must be for that, right?". I tried to joke to lighten the mood. But Spencer didn't laugh.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I think I should go…”. He got up from the bench and was going to leave me there with more questions than answers.

"Spencer, wait!... you can't leave like this. Please tell me what's wrong..." I pleaded.

Forcing Spencer to speak at that point must have been one of my biggest mistakes in a long time. How often does your best friend confess he has been in love with you for years on your wedding day?

Only in the movies. The difference is that in the movies the bride runs off with the lover, leaving the groom behind and living happily ever after. It was not my case. Spencer was the one who ran off, alone… while I stood on the bench with tears rolling down my cheeks, a confession and millions of doubts that beginning to fill my mind.

Of course I was in love with my husband. Perhaps a somewhat childish love, but we had known each other for so many years that it was difficult for me to imagine myself otherwise than being married to him, having children, a house and a dog. That was my dream since I was 16 years old.

But things change. My life also changed. I studied Forensic Psychology and fell so in love with my major that I wanted to join the FBI to put what I had learned into real practice. This is how I came to the BAU afterwards. A whole world opened before my eyes. I faced the best and the worst of the world. My innocence faded over time. I was much more aware of what was happening around me. And I was happy with that.

I fell in love with my job too. I also bonded with my co-workers. I started spending more time with Emily, JJ and Penelope both on and off work. But what changed me the most was making friends with Spencer Reid. When we met, the first thing I noticed was his shyness. It seemed adorable to me. As we got to know each other I understood many things about his character, just as he understood many things about me as well.

The jet trips, the talks at the local police stations, the theories about the unsubs were made much more bearable thanks to Spencer. At some point I asked myself if our friendship could be something more. I didn't think it was possible. But the doubts came all the times I had a strong argument with my boyfriend. Arguments that sometimes ended with me leaving the apartment we shared and crashing into Spencer's place crying on his shoulder.

I remembered one of those times. It was a strong discussion. Triggered by my prolonged absence thanks to the cases that kept us traveling all over the country. Like the previous times I ended up in Reid's apartment drowning my sorrows in his chest.

"(Y/N)… can I ask you a question?" I just nodded, still sobbing. "Are you sure you love him?... I mean… maybe I said it wrong... I don't have doubts you love him, but do you think this relationship is working for you?..."

“It has worked so far. It's true… we have our ups and downs, but… I don't know… it's just I wish he could understand what my life is really like…"

"And if he doesn't?... how many more chances will you give him (Y/N)?... don't hurt yourself more, please...".

My memory recalls the way he looked at me. At first I thought it was compassion. ‘Poor woman, in love with a man who doesn't understand her.’ But then I thought I saw something else. A plea? I didn't really know what it was.

Without thinking, I let myself be carried away and wrapped my arms around his neck, crashing my lips on his. A simple impulse that ended with me and Reid making out on his couch. And boy I did enjoy it!. And I'm sure he did too. But we were both cowardly enough to admit it.

After that things were strange between us. Until one day I faced him. I needed to know what his true feelings were. The bastard denied it. He said he only wanted me as a friend, that I deserved to be happy with my boyfriend and that ours was just a good friendship.

I let it go. We returned to our dynamic of good friends. Things seemed to take their normal course. My boyfriend proposed to me, the fights between us disappeared. Thus faded the nights when I came crying to Spencer's apartment. I was feeling happy. Excited. Until that moment in my wedding party, in the garden, when Spencer left me with his confession stabbing my chest.

I didn't want to think about that. I had given him a chance to open up earlier. And he didn’t do it. Spencer fucking Reid kept the silent. And I didn't say anything either. Maybe if I had given him a sign. But it was too late. I had to get on with my life. And that's what I did.

A year of happiness. That was how long my marriage lasted. And not because I haven't tried. I really tried. But Reid was right. Sooner or later the opportunities would no longer be enough. Promises weren't sufficient to keep alive the illusion of life as I had dreamed of as a teenager.

*************

I was worried. It had been 4 days since (Y/N) was suspended and no one had heard from her. I asked Prentiss and she only told me she texted her to know how she was doing and (Y/N) replied with a dry ‘fine’.

Besides being worried, I was upset. No one on the team had bothered to visit (Y/N). Months ago it would have been my mission, but given the circumstances maybe it wasn't a good idea. I was annoyed by the idea she was struggling alone with this situation. It was not fair. None of this was fair.

That she couldn't be happy wasn't fair. And that we couldn't be together was my fault. My silence. I lied when I could have told the truth. There is not a day I don’t regret that.

My second mistake was speaking at the wrong time. I couldn't bear it and in a moment of weakness I confessed my feelings to (Y/N). And it was selfish, I know. A chain of bad decisions I tried to bury over time.

And it seemed time was working. She was happy with her husband, or so I thought. While we tried to return to our friendship routine. Perhaps that is another of the biggest lies in the universe: ours would never be the same. Ours will never be the same again. I didn't find out things were going wrong in her marriage until it was all broken. I could notice some things about her behavior, but she was never going to tell me anything about that part of her life, ever again.

On the sixth day of her suspension, my worry began to overwhelm me. This time I wasn’t the only one who was concerned. Emily and JJ tried to contact (Y/N) but she just didn't answer the phone. Even Hotch had left messages on her voicemail to check her status. None had an answer.

I couldn't sit idly by. What if something had happened to her? Sure she wouldn't want to talk to me, but at least I needed to know she was okay. That afternoon I left the BAU heading to her apartment. Upon arrival, I knocked on the door twice. But I got no answer. Maybe she had gone out to buy something. Or maybe something had happened to her and she couldn't open the door. I hesitated what to do for a while. I paced outside her door until anxiety got the better of me. I still had the spare key to her apartment. I knew it wasn't appropriate, but my concern won. I opened the door and launched to inspect the place.

She was not in the apartment. The place was a bit messy, but it wasn't a mess itself. I found many boxes in the living room, some half packed. They didn't seem to be her things, which partly reassured me. For a second I thought she was moving somewhere else. What made me uneasy was seeing several empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. That gave me an idea of where she might be at that specific moment.

I quickly reached (Y/N)'s favorite bar scanning through the crowd until I saw her near the bar counter with a group of men surrounding her. I stepped closer and crossed the circle of testosterone that shrouded (Y/N). Seeing me, she raised up her arms to signal my arrival.

“And here is my favorite genius! Dr. Spencer Reid!" (Y/N) chimed obviously drunk. When I managed to get to her side, she threw her arms over me, almost falling from the tabouret where she was sitting next to the bar. I hold her with my arms, restoring some balance to her. As I spoke to the group of predators still looking at (Y/N).

"Well. The show ended here. You can go to the other side of the bar”. I announced to the marauders who, puffing, broke the circle around (Y/N) dispersing.

“You are a killjoy Reid. You always have been”. Despite her condition she knew exactly how to hit me with her words.

"Let's go. I'll take you home" I stated.

When we left the bar, she stopped and didn't want to keep walking.

"Reid... really, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to look for you…" I mumbled.

"You didn't have to... I'm fine, don't you see me? Won-der-ful…" she tried to joke.

"(Y/N)... you're drunk... let me take you home" I insisted.

"Noooo, I don't want to. I'm fine here. Let me…"

"Please come with me". I demanded and grabbed her forearm.

"I don't want to be hurt any more Spencer... leave me alone" she complained.

"I know. But let me help you…"

"You cannot. Nobody can help me. Everyone abandons me and it's my fault...". (Y/N) tried to left my grip.

"Don’t say that. It's not your fault". I hugged her and she stopped struggling but started sobbing into my chest.

We held each other for a moment. The sobs gave way to hiccups. When (Y/N) was calmer, I managed to get her into the car. I drove to her apartment. When I stopped the car, I noticed she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the car window. Carefully, I opened the passenger door and took her in my arms, bridal style. She only let out a groan, but not fully awake. I went upstairs with her to the floor of her apartment, took out the key, opened the door and we went inside.

As gently as I could, I laid her on the bed. I took off her shoes and tucked her with the duvet. Again I heard her sobs.

"Why did it have to be like this?..." she muttered. I didn't know what to answer her.

"It's my fault. I end up ruining everything. I always make mistakes that end up ruining everything…” she cried. I knew it wasn't a good time to talk, but (Y/N) needed to be able to at least sleep in peace.

"No, don’t say that. You better sleep now. Tomorrow we can talk about this".

"You will stay with me?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Only if you want me to stay..."

"Please…" she begged.

I took off my shoes and cuddled next to her under the duvet. I wrapped my arms around her body and after a few minutes I felt her breathing much quieter, a sign that she had fallen asleep.

When I woke up next morning, (Y/N) was still sleeping. I knew she would be in that condition for at least a couple of hours, when the light in the room will wake up her and make her feel the hangover in her body. I gently got up and went to the living room. I wondered if it was really wise to stay until she woke up or maybe I should just leave her and go home. I wanted to be able to talk to her, but I wasn't sure if it would be the best time. I laughed at myself after that thought. Is there a better time for us at anything? That didn't exist in our books.

I made myself a coffee and grabbed some of the books from her shelf. I struggled with the urge to explore the things that were inside the boxes scattered around the room. I sat down on the couch and started reading.

A few hours later I heard (Y/N) walking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, turning on the shower faucets. I got up from the couch and started making coffee again. She was going to need it. I also started making some toast. After a while she came out of the bathroom straight into the bedroom again. A few more minutes passed and she peeked into the kitchen where I was finishing buttering the toast.

"You didn't need to make breakfast..." she remarked, making her presence known. I raised my head to look at her.

"At least you need the coffee..." I suggested as I handed her the mug of coffee.

"It’s true. Thank you". She sat down and after a sip put the coffee on the table.

"How do you feel?"

"The shower helped... but the hangover won't leave me for a good couple of hours," she complained. I put the plate of toast on the table and sat across from her with my own coffee. We fell silent as we drank our coffee and ate our toasts.

When there was no more coffee or toast left, (Y/N) started talking.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night." She mused.

"You don’t have to apologize…". I shook my head.

"Yes. I need to. Although I don't know how you knew I was there, you brought me back safely. Thank you". Her eyes felt into the empty mug.

“It was not a bother to me. I was worried about you (Y/N). In fact, I'm worried about you,” I confessed, looking again at the empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. She followed my line of sight and knew exactly what I meant.

“I'm fine Reid… so don't worry. I have accumulated them in all these days. It's not so big deal either" she bragged.

“I don't think you're okay (Y/N). You've avoided calls and messages from the whole team these days…". I stated.

“I just wanted to be peaceful, Reid. As you can see, I’m trying to 'clean up' my life,” (Y/N) assured as she pointed to the boxes scattered around the room.

"You don't have to do that alone..." I implied trying to get into the matter.

"Reid, please… don’t do this. You know I can't let you do this…” she mumbled.

"Why not? Please (Y/N)... why do you want to keep pushing people away from you?".

“Not all people. Only you". Her overabundance of sincerity didn’t surprise me, but at that moment it left me speechless. "Sorry to say it like that, but you can't pretend things are the way they were at the beginning." She was right, but I wasn't ready to lose this fight.

"Will you never forgive me for telling you about my feelings that night at your wedding?" I shouted running one of my hands through my hair.

"Not that. I’ll never forgive you for keeping silent when I asked you what you felt before!" she yelled at me back.

"(Y/N)... I was scared...". I tried to explain.

“I was scared too Reid!... but I had hopes. The hopes you killed at that time," she grumbled taking her head with both hands.

"Do you think it was easy for me?"

"I don’t care. If you had told me maybe I would have cared. I'm not a fucking fortune teller Reid!" She got up from her chair and began pacing the room. We were getting back into this discussion, again.

"I just… I never thought you would do it..." I said defeated.

"What? Get married?... why shouldn't I?". She asked in exasperation.

"Because you didn't love him!!!" I screamed.

"How do you know that? Damn it Reid!"

"Because if you really loved him, you would never have come to my apartment every time you both had an argument! That was never love (Y/N)! It was your dream, but it was never real!"

"What do you know about love?, ah?... are you really going to give me a lecture on something you have no idea? You weren't even able to face me when you made your big reveal. That's not love either Reid"

"Watch your words (Y/N), you have no idea what you're talking about" I warned her.

"Oh no? Enlighten me genius"

I got up quickly from the chair. I took one of her wrists and pulled it towards me. I cupped her cheeks with both hands and bumped my lips to hers. (Y/N) tried to pull away from me for a second, but then she melted into the kiss just like I did at the time. If words weren't enough, I hoped that kiss could help me ‘tell’ her everything I was feeling. When we both run out of air, we pulled away.

“If you didn't always have the compulsion of saying the last word, maybe I would have shown you earlier. But no! Always contradicting (Y/N)! " I muttered panting.

“What the fuck Reid?. Do you think a kiss is enough to silence me?". She pulled away trying to catch her breath and not knowing whether to keep yelling at me or to leave the room.

"No, not with a kiss. I know. Of course it is not enough with you (Y/N). I think I’m just starting with you".

“Where does this dominance come from? Eh Reid? What are you trying to prove?" she asked me defiantly.

"Just shut up (Y/N)... and stop calling me Reid". I protested. How difficult is for this woman to give up in a fight, for God sake!

"Make me... Reid". She challenged me back.

The tension built up over the years seemed to have exploded at that moment. I took her wrists again to attract her to my body, with one of my hands I took her hair and yanked it back to make her look at me.

"Stop it (Y/N). You don't want me to make you" I managed to mutter before collapsing my lips with hers again. This time the kiss was more passionate and extensive. I couldn't keep my hands still, while with one I was still yanking (Y/N)’s hair, the other started to down her back by entangling my fingers in the edge of her shirt. As I put my fingers under the shirt to touch her bare back, I felt a moan from (Y/N). That encouraged me to continue. Releasing my other hand from her hair, I grabbed the other end of her shirt, pulling it, take it off her body and throwing it to the floor. My lips began to search for the sweet spot on her neck that I knew existed and always wanted to explore. When I found it, another groan came from (Y/N)'s mouth. Those moans quickly turned me on. With my hands traveling down her nearly bare back, I paused on the clasp of her bra, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the floor. An exciting sigh left my mouth when I could see her naked half.

(Y/N) looked at me expectantly. Her eyes inviting me to continue, but I started to worry that no words come out of her mouth.

"Is something wrong?... do you want me to stop?"

"What are we doing Spencer...?" she said panting.

“What I think we should have done so long ago. And because of me we couldn't. But if you don't want to, I'll stop”. I assured her as I stroked her cheeks with my knuckles.

"Shit Spencer... I don't want to die without you fucking me once in life at least...". With that she threw herself into my arms and started to unbutton my dress shirt.

"God (Y/N)... you don’t how much I want you." I whispered to her as I dropped my dress shirt to the floor and my hands searched for her bare breasts. My lips and tongue tracing paths on her collarbone. Her arms were around my neck gripping tightly.

“Show me, you fucking coward! Prove you mean it!” she told.

“This time you don’t have to tell me twice…”.

I took her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the mattress, while I undid the clasp on my belt and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She slipped her sweatpants, exposing her body only in her lace. I laid down next to her, tracing eager paths in her bare skin with my fingers.

"You are so fucking beautiful (Y/N)... you drive me crazy...". I blurted, peppering kisses and sucking one of her nipples. (Y/N) stroked my hair as I keep my mouth attached into her breasts. My hands went down her waist and stopped in her thighs for a while. Then my fingers traveled anxiously across her belly, her hips, and her ass. I looked at her with fire in the eyes and could see how (Y/N) was breathing heavily holding her eyes on me as I slide her panties off, one leg at a time. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and buried my mouth between her legs, nibbling on the skin while I was holding her hip with both hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but arch her back, letting out a deep whine.

"Oh fuck Spencer... shit… please…" she moan not expecting to be coherent in her words. I was decided to go further, so my hands started to slide into her inner thighs. I wanted to explore the depths of her core. Not so gently I put one of my fingers inside her. The moisture I found did nothing but arouse me more. The contact sure caused more stimulation on her and she started to move and buck to feel more depth and friction.

"Please... Spencer... if we are going to do this, I need more...". Her words made me put a second finger. She shuddered on contact again. I couldn't help but bite my lower lip as I looked (Y/N)'s eyes stiff at the sensation running through her body. At the movement of my fingers inside her, (Y/N) was unable to control her own, seeking to deepen the feeling by riding hard on them. I lowering my tongue until reached her folds. I slipped my tongue to catch some of her moisture mixed with my own saliva. A stifled moan from me made (Y/N) tremble at the vibration of my voice running through her body. I put a third finger inside her while my tongue focused on her clit, licking and sucking the exposed nerve.

(Y/N) let out almost a cry bursting with pleasure. I speed up the actions of my fingers and my tongue and I could feel (Y/N) shiver under my touch. I heard her moaning louder as she held on to my hair. I knew she was close to her release because her body trembled at every thrusting of my fingers and slapping of my tongue.

"Oh fuck... I can't... Spencer... please... don't stop... I'm going to cum..." she said frenzy as her nails scratched my shoulders.

"Do it love, cum in my fingers... do it... let me feel how you undone beneath me…" I gasped trying to help her to find her release, while the thrusts of my fingers became more frantic than ever.

"Fuck... Spencer... uhhh, shit!" It was the last she could say before falling hard at her ecstasy. She was trembling completely with her eyes lost on the ceiling. When the spasms stopped, I pulled my fingers out, tasting her arousal in my mouth and looking at her. Her messy hair, the sweat running down her forehead and her eyes full of pleasure. It couldn't have been more pleasing for me.

“I think you need a reward for this so… come here. I need you to fuck me with your cock right now… please…”. (Y/N) demanded still panting.

I just chuckled meanwhile I slipped off my boxers and then placed my hips between her legs lining up my cock at her entrance. My slow entry produced a unison groan in both of us.

"Oh fuck (Y/N)... you're so tight for me..." was the only thing I said before (Y/N) raised her hips without warning to feel me fully in her. A roar tore from my mouth as I grabbed her hips to start moving inside her. The thrusts started slow but intense, accompanied by gasps and sweat. I increased the speed of my thrusts in the next minutes. The desire to feel each other had reached a point of no return for both. The moans mingled with the vocalization of our names only increased arousal in us. I could feel her walls tighten with friction and it drove me madder and louder. She was very close to losing herself in ecstasy. Her body began to tremble, which made me hasten my pace. I put one of my fingers over her clit and traced circular movements on it. The (Y/N)’s moans increased in time and noise.

"Fuck Spencer... Oh yeah, right there. More please… Spencer, harder…”. She exclaimed in ecstasy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good with my cock inside you. Do you like it?, tell me… I want to hear you… use your words…”. I needed to hear her voice.

"Harder Spencer. You are fucking me so good. Please don't stop… I love you. I wanted this so badly… so time ago…”

“This time I'm not going to let you go. Tell me, did he touch you like this?... He kissed you like this?... He fucked you like this?"

"Shit… Spencer, it’s not the time to compare yourself to my ex…" (Y/N) moaned.

“I just want you to realize that I’m better than him. That I have more right to have you than he and any other man. That I’m the only man who could love you like you deserves (Y/N)…"

With those words I could feel how the orgasm hit (Y/N) like a train. She screamed my name one last time before getting lost in her heights. I kept my thrusts knowing I was close. Feeling her walls tighten around my cock was enough for a couple more thrusts and reach my own release. And it was better than I had imagined every time I thought about (Y/N) and what sex with her would be like. God! I could stay like this forever.

Even with our shaky breaths and still inside her I looked (Y/N) directly in the eyes. I needed to know her reaction. I just hoped I didn't find regret in her gaze. That would have been death for me.

She looked at me with a glint in her eyes that I couldn't decipher. Tears? I was terrified. I didn't want to lose (Y/N) again.

"Shit Spencer... where did you learn to fuck like that?" she blurt suddenly. We both started laughing. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I only answered with a deep kiss on her lips as I got out of bed in the direction to the bathroom.

I came back with a damp towel to clean up the remains of our recent activities. (Y/N) didn't take her eyes off me but she didn't say a word either. I put the towel on the nightstand and sat on the bed with my back on the backrest.

"Okay, what are you thinking now?" I asked. (Y/N) smiled because she knew exactly that I was going to ask her that question.

“It's just… I find it hard to believe that you really love me. I mean, so much has happened in this time… don't you even have a little doubt going around in your head about this?" she questioned giving me a shy look.

"Not anymore. I had doubts for so long (Y/N), that's why I wasn't able to do anything about it. But I can assure you that there are no more doubts. I love you and I know you love me too. Nonetheless I'm willing to wait for whatever it takes until you're ready. But I’ll never be silent about my feelings for you again. That I can assure you. I promise”. I replied taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm still broken Spencer...". She remind me pressing her lips together and trying to hold back a sob

“(Y/N). I know and I take full responsibility for that too. But now I don´t care all our past mistakes. I don’t care the past itself. I don’t care if you’re broken now. I want to fix this. I want you. I want to make up to you. I want to make you happy. No matter how long it takes me to accomplish that. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll hold you when you need it, I want to be there when the world breaks you. I’ll fight and support you every time that happens…"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N) hugged me tight and buried her head on my chest. Then she raised her gaze to look at me and speak.

"Love is not unconditional Spencer... you know that…" she murmured.

"Not by default my love, but we can build it to make it work for us.". She smiled at my words and after giving me an intense kiss she spoke again.

“I hope you’re right. I know we can try to make it work. I love you Spencer”.

“I love you too (Y/N). We are going to make it. I promise".

———————

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds

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arieswonjin · 3 years

Text

open seams; full

pairings: ham wonjin x femme!reader

genre: fluff, angst, friends to lovers au

word count: 8.6k

navigation: teaser

warnings: alcohol and intoxication, use of sharp objects, minor injury

song inspo: all my love | playlist

a/n: this is for a fic exchange with @cravitywriters' first batch of members :> apologies this came a bit late >

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

it took close to forever to find the perfect spot for the shop of your dreams. in this city and in these times, it took a lot of guts to even decide to run one.

the rent uptown was crazy expensive and the high-fashion atmosphere dimmed the charm of your minimalist garments. the spots downtown were cheap, yes, but you had to deal with creaky and moldy floors, noisy air conditioning, and rude neighbors. it was a definite no-go. but after months and months, with pages of crossed-out vacancy lists and even deeper sighs, you found just the perfect home for your handmade pieces.

the small studio was a few minutes away from the main street and the subway station. the road it was on was lined with street art on both sides, there was decent foot-traffic, and a good number of cars passing by—a haven for independent brands. plus, the landlady who lived upstairs was a middle-aged woman who, as it seemed, made it a habit to bring you her homemade rice cakes almost daily. you liked to think that this, along with the reasonable rent, was a bonus from fate.

you found the place on a random walk with a close friend. it was his idea—wonjin said you needed some fresh air after only having fruitless searches for weeks. at least that’s what you thought he meant by “go home and shower, at least,” and “c’mon, let’s go on a walk before you start to have nightmares about landlords.” who would’ve thought you’d find this place when you weren’t even looking?

the meager amount you saved up from commissions and tips while you took up different part-time jobs and sold custom pieces was enough to pay for a few months as you got your new brand established. the place wasn’t much—just enough to hold five racks of clothes, a tiny storage room, a display area, a bit of walking space—and you had to rely on your old equipment for now, but you already loved the shop dearly because it was your own.

it took a lot of heart, a lot of meals consisting of just ramyeon, a lot of needle pricks…

and a very willing model.

“ow!” a cry of pain followed by a trail of childish laughter from the same person echoed off of the walls of your empty shop. it was almost evening and the clear glass door let in a ray of orange sunlight, shining over rolls of fabric, spools of thread, and several sketches that littered your shop’s floor. it was the typical scene: you with your eyebrows furrowed in focus and your noisy yet undoubtedly helpful friend wonjin with unsewn fabric and pins over his own clothes as he stood on a small platform. even your bickering was part of the routine you’ve established the past few weeks as you prepared for opening day. seven days left!

“i’m sorry!” you withdrew the hand holding the tiny culprit, looking closely at the spot on wonjin’s shoulder which you pricked. “i promise i’ll be done in a quick minute. maybe if you put your phone down for a while…” you muttered the last part, meaning for him to hear it anyway. inside, you were thankful that he has been patient with you as you did your thing, but you just couldn’t resist an opportunity to jab at ham wonjin with your remarks. after such, he was nearly impossible to shut up.

but that’s just wonjin being wonjin and that’s what always made you want him around.

“y/n, i came to be your volunteer model, not a pin cushion.” he jabbed back and teased you, waiting for the reaction he now memorized and repeatedly coaxed out of you just for kicks: a roll of the eyes followed by a swing of the hand aimed at him which you never followed through with. nonetheless, he fake-dodged on instinct and laughed, as you knew he would.

“stay still or i’ll prick you intentionally, wonjin.”

“‘young male found pricked to death by owner of up-and-coming clothing brand…’ imagine that headline.” he trailed off and now stayed still as he chatted you up. you appreciated this, the light and familiar company as you worked to enter the unfamiliar territory that is your new business. you shook your head at his nonsense and smiled to yourself.

it was only when you locked the final stitch that evening that you leaned back and realized just how long your day has been—your eyes and back were sore, your hands were all tight and in need of a break, and your head refused to recall your designs anymore. your body was telling you to wrap the day up.

“what do you want?” you sighed and opened one of your eyes after a satisfying stretch. wonjin was standing in front of you with his palms extended and an unreadable expression on his face. what did he want?

“your hands. hurry.” a momentary pause with your mind almost going blank. my hands? “i want to try that thing you do with your knuckles when you’re done with work.” he finally stepped forward and grabbed both of your hands, making you take a few seconds to comprehend what he meant. it must be the exhaustion that’s making your brain function slower than it usually does. or maybe it’s this proximity.

“you mean cracking them?” you asked as you looked up at him from your seat.

“mhmm.” wonjin started to crack your knuckles one by one, commenting on how loud the sound from each finger was. this was an absurd scene, really, but you couldn’t deny how amusing it was to watch him and how such a simple gesture relieved a good amount of your tiredness.

“tsk.” it was all you could say after he cracked the last pinky, his hands lingering on yours a few seconds after. “okay, that’s enough, you’re going to injure me,” you grunted as you stood up and walked past him towards the storage room, hiding a now pink face.

“opening day is in exactly a week.” wonjin thought aloud as he started to pick up the clutter on the floor. “that’s still a lot of time, you know. why don’t you take tomorrow off? go to a sauna or something.” he offered the idea even though he knew so, so well that you were going to be fast to turn it down. it was too bad that you had no plans of pausing until opening day. maybe then he would’ve found the time to show you a little something he was working on. it was worth a shot, he thought. i’ll give it a few more days.

“no can do. i still have to work on jungmo’s piece. you’re bringing him over tomorrow, right?”

“if the free barbecue for us is still up… then, yes.” wonjin beamed, proud that he landed a good deal after convincing one of your friends to model for you. honestly, you believed the effort he’s been exerting for you and your shop was worth far more than a barbecue treat, but he insisted that he would accept nothing more than that.

ham wonjin always had a knack for being thoughtful without being obvious about it and it has indeed grown on you although you were quite slow to admit it to yourself.

“i’ll tell him to brace for the pin pricks.”

“pft.” you rolled your eyes at him and started to help clear out the shop before both of you got ready to leave. “let’s get coffee before walking home? it’s on me.” with a casual ruffle of wonjin’s hair, a silent thanks from you to him, met with a subsequent shake of his head to rearrange it, you closed the shop up with an unexpectedly light heart.

it was just another one out of many nights you spent walking home to the same neighborhood and it went by as it always did—seeing the bold words and symbols spray-painted on the walls of the street you were in, hearing him tell you about how cool they looked at night to which you responded as enthusiastically, pointing out newer and smaller details every time you walked past them—yet it never got old or boring.

silently, you wished the next seven days would unfold perfectly, just like how things were then and there in that small city street.

help, he’s been talking about you since we sat down. come quickly.

a text message from jungmo pulled you out of your sleepy train of thought as you stood on the crowded subway, three stops away from your destination: to a breakfast cafe where you planned to meet with wonjin and jungmo before working on the piece for your new model.

from a face that was barely awake came a blush that’s been finding its way there quite often recently. you’ve been trying to send away your suspicions that you were growing fonder and fonder of wonjin and your attempts would usually be successful if not for text messages like this. a fraction of the blame for your confusion goes to your friends for their persistent hints and teases. they may as well be just that: meaningless hints and empty teases stemming from the constant bickering that your friends found cute and endearing. the fact that you and wonjin were almost joined at the hip for the past few months didn’t help. neither did his clinginess which you suddenly start to look for on days he was too busy with his own matters to drop by.

the casual offers to walk you home, the few seconds he spends wordless and silent when you get too close as you worked on his pieces, or the smallest gestures to help you out with the shop were all subjected to your overthinking. but nevermind all that. you didn’t have plans of telling anyone about this anyway. a short reply would suffice for now.

bleh. i’m almost there.

your face glowed as you got closer and closer to the cafe. no one would have been able to tell that you were stressing over a million little things about the imminent opening day. for reasons you couldn’t put a finger on, you wanted to at least overhear a hint of what wonjin was saying about you before you sat down and kept a straight face in front of him again. anything; the smallest compliment, the most mundane story about how you spent time together, anything that could fuel you up for the next few days knowing that thoughts of you lived in his head too. all that after denying to acknowledge any feelings. way to be fickle, y/n, you thought to yourself.

entering the packed and brightly-decorated cafe, you approached the two friends who’ve already ordered their meals. huh, thanks a lot. from behind the booth table they picked out, you slowed down, planning on intentionally not making your presence known until you were almost seated.

your face dropped the very second their conversation reached earshot.

“it’s beginning to become burdensome. i don’t think we even match. it’s never going to happen. just a few more days and i swear—i’m done,” you heard this in wonjin’s unmistakable voice, with a tone of annoyance that went straight through your chest.

“i see.” jungmo nodded and the two continued digging into their breakfast, still unaware of your arrival.

you took this as an opportunity to turn your heels and retrace your steps to the subway station, sending jungmo a quick text before you wallowed in your scattered thoughts. you felt the heat radiating from your face but now for a much different reason.

if there were two things you hated the most in the world, it was being lied to and unnecessarily troubling the people you cared about. it felt worse hearing both from wonjin’s mouth. this was the same person who’s been there for you for months while you built the shop from the ground up, the same person who’s seemingly been helping you unconditionally. you were at a loss about who to blame: yourself for not noticing how much your shop was demanding from him or wonjin for keeping all this pent-up annoyance behind your back.

last night, when you imagined how the rest of your week would pan out, you didn’t expect to see yourself inside a packed subway train, desperately keeping your tears from pouring.

“that’s weird. y/n just said she went directly to the shop instead. urgent.” jungmo perked up at your sudden message, eyes on his phone as he ate the last slice of his pancake.

“what? y/n didn’t text me anything after she said she was a station away. she would’ve told me.” wonjin looked around the cafe, sure that jungmo was mistaken and half-expecting to see you meters away from their table. “i already ordered for her though…”

“she’s asking me to come by quickly so she can finish fitting the pieces. it won’t take until lunch, right?” jungmo’s question went unnoticed as a now preoccupied wonjin kept his eyes on the untouched plate in front of him.

“so stubborn, tsk. really can’t get her hands off her work. one of these days she’s going to get sick. and you know she lives alone so—”

“dude. now that we’re back to y/n, you’re chattering again. just finish your food so i can go get fitted.”

wonjin sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, inwardly worried about your sudden change of plans and ready to nag at you for not giving yourself even the slightest break. what is she doing not giving herself even half an hour for breakfast? this fool.

there was barely any room for the sound of the shop’s door chimes, which signaled the two’s arrival, with wonjin’s trail of nags starting before he was even entirely inside. hearing all this from the storage room where you were distracting yourself by reorganizing your fabrics, you let out a deep sigh and hoped your eyes did not look too red and swollen before you stepped out. this is stupid, you thought. you had no time for delays but your emotions were getting the best of you. if you were going to finish your work, it had to be without him.

“y/n, at this rate you’re going to tire yourself out and get sick on opening day. we agreed last night you’d be at the cafe to at least stuff yourself with this before the long day,” wonjin took no breaths in between, placing the paper bag containing your forgotten breakfast on top of your work counter. “then suddenly you say you aren’t going anymore. did the racks arrive early? why did you suddenly—“

“thanks for coming, jungmo.” you greeted the older male, cutting off wonjin's monologue without even looking at him. jungmo just nodded and shrugged, obviously used to the dynamic between his two friends who were in front of him. he simply sat down on one of the wooden stools and started keeping himself busy with his phone. you felt bad that he had to be caught in the middle of this, but between confronting your feelings and doing what had to be done for the shop, you were sure you were much more ready to do the latter. “this won’t take that long, don’t worry.”

“did you hear me just now…? sit down and eat first, y/n.” wonjin started to sense that something was up with the way you paced around busily as you got your materials ready and purposely avoided his eyes.

“i thought i texted you not to come,” a muttered statement was finally sent his way—a weak acknowledgment of his presence—but you were still looking at anything but him. from your peripheral vision, you saw wonjin getting his phone out to check what you meant.

“huh… i didn’t see that…” his usual speaking volume started to drop, a sign that you knew meant he was genuinely puzzled.

“now that you have…” you kept a straight face and mustered the heart to look at him, trying to act as nonchalant as you could even though you knew that the next words out of your mouth were not you. “go home. or somewhere else, at least… spare yourself the burden of being stuck here again.”

“what are you talking about?” he started to laugh to try and lighten up the rising tension, a habit of his. is this some kind of prank? he thought to himself and searched your expression for some giveaways. “is jungmo replacing me?” when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he paused.

“no time for questions, okay, wonjin? it’s time to go, i need to get to work and this isn’t helping. please go.” it took everything in you to keep yourself calm and collected and you didn’t know how many more questions you could dodge. why am i being so emotional, damn it.

“what do you mean ‘go?’” wonjin tried to laugh again, albeit a softer, less confident one. “this shop’s practically home... did something happen on the way here?”

“go as in...you don’t need to drop by anymore. i’m almost done with everything.” a total lie.

“i know you’ll do well by yourself, y/n, but you know i don’t mind helping. it’s not a big deal.” wonjin reassured, stepping forward as if this would prove his point. to your annoyance, he went on to bring your takeout breakfast out of its bag and proceeded to prepare the food on your work counter, all the while nagging at you for being the stubborn person you were. “it must be the hunger, y/n. come here and eat.”

you, on the other hand, kept your distance and contained a painful laugh. it was almost funny comparing what you heard earlier to the words he was saying right now. what was he playing at? “it must be tiring, huh? just go, okay? you don’t need to do all this. no one’s forcing you. i’ll be fine here.”

he sighed. “just tell me what’s going on. pushing me away like this when i don’t know what i’ve done? you’re being a bit hurtful right now,” wonjin’s last strands of patience were barely keeping him together, matching your slowly rising temper.

“trust me, i’ve heard worse. go.” your gaze pierced through him for a good few seconds until jungmo, who’s been slowly realizing that things were getting serious, pulled wonjin away before he blurted things out in frustration. the way wonjin looked right now was as if his questions were visibly jumping out of him. there’s never been an exchange this intense between the two of you no matter how much you bickered and everyone in the room knew it.

reaching his limit, wonjin shook free from jungmo and briskly walked out of the shop, leaving a strange silence after the chimes died down.

the next couple of days consisted of wonjin keeping himself from going back to the shop and you trying to dodge jungmo’s probing questions as you worked. even after countless attempts to rethink what he did that day, he was still clueless about what prompted you to deny any help or to avoid him entirely. the years of friendship you had meant that he knew you were not the type of person to dismiss others without any good reason.

but his pride went head to head with his worry and this led him to spend consecutive late nights with unsent messages, apologies written and deleted, calls not made, and questions not asked. after all, what was he going to apologize for? if anything, he believed he deserved an apology for being sent away without explanations. with this thought, wonjin would pull on his hair in frustration because of how childish he sounded in his head.

just when i thought things were going well between us. just when he was ready to tell you how, with your passion and perseverance and, he admitted, maybe a bit of your friends’ little remarks on how you two looked good together, you’ve slowly made a friend fall for you in the span of the past few months.

“okay, get this. there’ll be new collections every month and they’ll all be themed after the zodiacs. but i wonder if i can come up with pieces that fast? or how about i do quarterly collections? maybe that’ll be better, releasing three designs altogether…i just wonder if i can keep that up for the whole year. would anyone even show up to buy my stuff? what do you think? god, i don’t even have a name for my shop yet.”

several months ago, when the shop still seemed out of reach and it felt impossible to settle on a place to start your business, you would cheer yourself up by picturing the ideal: your shop all decked and ready, packed with people shopping for your new collections, appreciating the hours of hard work that went into each handmade piece. with every spurt of excitement, wonjin would just be the constant cheerleader and voice of reason, both supporting you and bringing you back down to reality.

“why are you looking at me like that, ham wonjin?” you turned to get a view of the boy seated beside you on the bus stop, an uncharacteristically wordless wonjin, his head slightly tilted away with a downward gaze at you, an amused look on his face. the day was almost coming to an end, a full day spent walking around town, lists of units for rent on hand.

“nothing. i think that’s a good idea.” he smiled and looked up to think. “but it sounds like you’ll be wearing yourself out. what about doing monthly collections when you find more help?”

“you’ve got a point.” you considered this but you were nonetheless excited about the potential this little shop holds. “anyway, let’s go. i still have a lot of open seams to sew.”

“open seams.” wonjin repeated.

“yeah, the unfinished pieces. remember? the shop? me? sewing? clothes?” you teased, acting out every word like a mime.

“no, dummy. open seams. the name of your shop. it sounds catchy doesn’t it?” it was wonjin’s turn to get excited and your turn to find amusement in his enthusiasm. “didn’t you say open seams look unfinished but that’s what gives them the edge?”

“wow, i can’t believe you actually listen to me blabber about seams.”

wonjin whined at this, defending himself and saying that he always listened. you said the new name, again and again, testing out how it felt to say and how it sounded. “open seams. it does sound great...”

that hug out of nowhere and the strong tug at his hand pulling him towards the bus that just stopped in front of the both of you was all he could remember as he walked home that night. the very next morning after that encounter, he set off to a certain street art-lined street with your shop in mind after finding an online listing for a vacancy that was just the perfect price, the perfect size, and on the perfect street that would soon be housing your pieces of art.

pulling his mind back to the present and attempting to keep it from wandering to you again, he made himself busy with the only other thing he had going on: the last few days of a low-paying multimedia job he impulsively committed to and is now regretting. he stretched in his chair, his phone kept in place with his cheek and shoulder.

“how’s that media job you were talking about the other day? still a burden?” jungmo’s calls have been the only thing keeping wonjin in touch with what’s going on in the shop. even if he didn’t ask, the reliable hyung kept him up to date with the last set of preps and your occasional breakdowns.

“it’s a definite no-match. i’ve got three days left and i just want to make a run for it.” wonjin looked at all the uninteresting piles of manuals haphazardly stacked on his home desk, a reflection of how much he despised working this job from home. truth be told, he would much rather be working with you downtown. “how are things?”

“you mean, how’s y/n?”

“you know what i mean.”

“she’s out to eat with yuna right now after refusing a hundred times. we’re staying with her until tonight, though, so don’t worry.”

“alright.” wonjin sighed, feeling powerless that he was of no help to ease your load yet still refusing to do anything about it.

“just talk to each other, for god’s sake! you both sound terrible-” jungmo shouted through the phone, pleading to his younger friend. “do you even know how many times i tried to ask y/n about what happened between you two? seventy-seven times, wonjin. seventy-seven times. yes, i counted-”

“i’m hanging up.” wonjin tossed the phone away making it land somewhere among the stack of items on his messy desk. a few seconds after he rudely ended the call, a text message from a persistent jungmo. dinner still on tonight. you have to come with us, dude.

you didn’t know what came over you. there were only three days left until your shop’s opening day. there were still several patterns to cut up, clothing pieces that needed to be sewn together, and more people to invite for your brand to gain traction, yet you were here at a nearby barbecue place, giving in to your friends’ requests for you to let loose for a few hours with a couple of shots of alcohol, good food, and conversations that held until several hours after midnight.

anyone would’ve noticed how tense you’ve become in a span of a few days—from the tired yet happy y/n who’s excited to get to work every morning despite the imminent deadline to an irritable, downcast y/n who wouldn’t keep their eyes and ears off of their work and nothing else.

and yes, everyone knew the reason behind this sudden change in work attitude. it was an open secret: the sudden and unexplainable drift between you and wonjin, previously an inseparable pair of friends, and both of your unwillingness to patch it up. your friends decided that mentioning it to either of you was just like nudging a rock on the side of a cliff, especially with an important occasion happening soon.

for wonjin, there was a mix of pride and confusion. why were you suddenly pushing him away when he was closer to you than he ever was? he never left your side as you built your shop from the ground up only for you to passive-aggressively refuse any further help a week before opening day. he deserved a proper explanation, but he would almost worry himself into sleep deprivation thinking about how important opening day was to you. it was either he asked you directly and tip the delicate mind balance you had as you got things in order or he could wait it out and almost go crazy at the mere thought of not hearing a peep from you.

for you, it was pure disappointment. in yourself or him, you were not sure. all you wanted was to stay sane for the time being and you told yourself that this was only possible if you didn’t see or hear him anywhere near you. you’ve heard how he truly felt, you heard it crystal clear, so there was nothing else to talk about. after all, if he saw you as a burden, why push any further?

so alas, there you were, with a small group of friends and a whole night to spend without any of your handmade pieces or clothed mannequins.

slow down? you repeated in your head once you heard jungmo and yuna’s invitation to tonight’s mini get-together. slowing down just made you remember how dull the days have been ever since you sent wonjin away that morning. stupid, talkative, playful wonjin who gave you the best, most comforting company. slowing down made you miss him, but you weren’t going to say that out loud.

this was probably what the sober you would have thought, but your slurred speech and buffering mind, now clouded with the two bottles of alcohol you’ve consumed that night, begged to differ. you were now in a state of zero filter and total unawareness of the faces swimming around you.

“burdensome? tsk. so i was burdensome to him, huh?” you laughed bitterly and roughly downed another shot of soju, using the back of your hand to trap any spills from your lips. “idiot. wonjin is an idiot. if you didn’t want to stay close to me, just tell me, damn it!” you shouted, repeatedly stomping your feet on the floor like a child.

your incoherent sentences, flushed cheeks, and unfocused eyes were what welcomed wonjin when he arrived at your table, half-jogging. jungmo, who has been carefully watching you since you asked for your second bottle, gave him an apologetic look and shrugged, gesturing to the empty bottles in front of you. “look, i know you refused to come and eat dinner with us but i had to call you. you live the closest to y/n.”

wonjin shook his head and laughed, half in disbelief and half in amusement. and here he thought he was going to spend his night cooped up with work to get you out of his head. “has she been calling me names all night?”

“you have no idea. good luck.” he patted wonjin’s back and watched as he pulled you up from your seat,

“let’s go, y/n. you can continue talking shit about me on the way home, okay?” wonjin’s tone was gentle as if he was testing the waters. the last thing he wanted was for you to lash out at him then and there. first, he needed to get you home. you two can talk some other time. hopefully.

“who’s this purple-haired clown? why is your hair purple like wonjin’s? are you his twin? is that idiot your twin?” it was a surprise you even managed to get those words out in between hiccups.

“idiot? you’re the idiot, getting drunk like this.” wonjin muttered under his breath. he still struggled to pull you up and support your body weight but what he found was that the best way to keep you conscious was to indulge you in conversation.

and that he did as he walked you to the usual bus stop where you two always sat and waited for the last trip.

“…if you see him around, tell him this for me.” you started, unknowingly leaning your head on his shoulder, giving into the heaviness you felt around your temples. in your drunken state, you genuinely thought you were talking to a pure stranger.

“hmm?” wonjin looked down at you, softening as he saw you with your eyes tightly shut as you repressed nausea. “what should i tell him?

“tell him—tell him i need to know how to forget him… he needs to tell me— how to do that…even for just a few days… okay? you’ll tell him?” there was no way you could have stopped your subconscious from pouring out. it was the truth told as it was: all you wanted was to get through the next few days without the hassle of whatever emptiness it was that you felt.

“why don’t you tell him yourself?” wonjin let his head lean against yours, sighing the millionth sigh between the both of you since a few days ago. “and what if he doesn’t know how to do that either, with you?”

“why do you have so many questions?!” you grabbed his arm and shook it non-stop, making him laugh at how ridiculous you looked and sounded with your unfocused eyes and the non-sense you were spouting. “don’t ask me questions because i don’t know, okay?! i just miss ham wonjin!”

wonjin froze for a few seconds, simply blinking at you and at the words you were saying over and over again. when he finally recovered, he calmed you down and leaned your head on his shoulder again. “he says he feels the same way.”

a head-splitting ache woke you up at ten in the morning the next day, only two days before the most awaited opening day. the last thing you remembered from last night was being halfway through your second bottle of soju and your friends jungmo, yuna, and serim telling you to slow down. it didn’t really take a lot to guess that you didn’t listen to them.

after a few slow minutes of debating whether or not you can get up and get on with your day in one piece, you eventually pulled your blankets off of you and figured that you'd live with the consequences of last night’s choices. besides, you couldn’t skip a crucial preparation day. after sending your three friends a quick thank-you message for getting you home safely, your phone lit up again with a message. you did a double-take at the new notification that just arrived; it was a text message from wonjin. are you up?

three days of silence and all he asks me is if i’m up? you grunted, refused to open the message in question, and, seeing no point in dwelling, went on with the rest of your routine. you didn’t know what else you wanted to read from that text, but you sure weren’t expecting to see such a casual question after literally not having heard a peep from each other for days. if you were being honest, you half-expected him to arrive at dinner last night.

but whatever that text meant, you didn’t want to use your head, which at the moment felt like it weighs a ton, to think about it.

your forehead in your hands as you navigate around your now-sunlit studio apartment, you hoped that the last-minute invitations, quality checks, and tidying up would keep you busy enough to forget the fact that, last night, you could’ve sworn you dreamt of wonjin and how he sat beside you on a bus ride home.

“and there she is, fighting through the aftermath of alcohol.” yuna greeted loudly and met you halfway as you approached your shop on foot. last night, the three offered to be your manpower for the next few days which is why she, jungmo, and serim were all waiting for you out on the sidewalk, eyes squinted because of the sunlight and their mild hangovers.

“do we get some kind of prize that we arrived earlier than you?” serim asked as the four of you entered.

“coffee, as always.” this was met by a cheer from jungmo who wasted no time in attending to the shop decor which was still packed in boxes. “don’t worry, guys. if my shop does well, it’s meat for everyone.”

“it’s settled then.” yuna clapped and got everyone’s attention. “okay, team. to your usual tasks. serim, light fixtures. jungmo, decor. me, storage. y/n, create.”

“jungmo’s taller, why do i get the light fixtures?”

you smiled sincerely for the first time in a few days, touched that they’re taking time off from their days to get the shop together, to get you together. “oh, and guys, sorry about last night. feel free to curse at me. i must’ve been so heavy.” you sat down in front of your work counter, fighting back a cringe. after numerous nights out, you just knew they had a treasure chest full of embarrassing stories to haunt you with. you were thankful no one else was there to see you wiped out.

“hmm, you must’ve.” a knowing smile from a mischievous serim to jungmo and yuna. “but we wouldn’t know. right, guys?”

“yeah, y/n. i don’t know, i brought serim to his home.” yuna shared, trying to sound innocent but failing as she shouted from the storage room.

“and i went home alone because i wasn’t drunk.” jungmo followed without missing a single beat. now you were utterly confused. did these three just call a cab on you or did you walk yourself home? you looked at the three of them one by one, their questionable smiling faces met with the most puzzled look on your face.

“all i know is…” jungmo started, keeping himself from breaking out in laughter before he could get his words out. “you called him a purple-haired idiot. that’s it.”

“what?!” you stood up abruptly, making your chair tumble back with a thud.

and just then, you started to recall bits and pieces of last night, starting from the vague bus ride that, until a few moments ago, you thought was just a dream. what in the world did i do now?

“y/n, i’ll help you up, okay? we’re almost at our stop.” wonjin pulled you up from your bus seat where you’ve been half-asleep on his shoulder. putting his arms around you as he guided you down the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, he repeatedly apologized to the bus driver for the delay. wonjin could only nod and laugh at the friendly reply from the middle-aged man who shouted ‘take your girlfriend home safely!’ he silently wondered how sober y/n would have reacted to such a remark.

just as the two of you stepped down, a splattering against the ground made both of you stop in your tracks.

“good heavens,” wonjin muttered as he rubbed your back and looked at the part of his shoes that was now covered in whatever it was you had for dinner a while ago. “you know, y/n, i wonder if you’d remember this once you pass by this mess tomorrow morning. looks like you enjoyed your barbecue too much.” wonjin joked, still not halting the backrubs as you were doubled over with your hands on your knees.

when you looked up at him after that spiel, all you could do was smile apologetically and giggle, eyes half-open. “let’s go home. i’m tired.”

“are you all done? you’re not going to throw up on my shirt or anything?” wonjin pulled you away from the side of the road, leading you to the direction of your apartment. “you have to tell me your apartment password so you can go in, okay?”

“you have to guess it. you’re never going to guess it!” you pulled away from his hold and ran around him in circles, getting a thrill from how light you started to feel after letting some of the alcohol out.

jogging to catch up with you, wonjin shouted, “y/n, slow down you’re gonna hurt yourself! aish. this child.”

“i threw up on him.” you said out loud to no one in particular. the text from this morning, your friend’s teasing smiles, and the blurry, dream-like memories on the bus meant that wonjin did make it to dinner last night just when you were in no state of mind to remember when exactly he arrived. “i threw up on him outside my home... jungmo, it was you who called him, wasn’t it?! guys?!”

the laughter that filled the room after that and the whines of a terrified jungmo who wanted none of your punches were muffled by the sound of the door chimes tingling, signaling someone’s arrival. you almost snapped your neck as you hurried to see who it was.

“hi, dear.” instead of a particular young male, you were met with the sight of the friendly landlady from upstairs, a plate of her usual handmade treats on hand, and a welcoming smile on her face. you mentally flicked yourself for involuntarily expecting someone else. “rice cakes?”

“oh, auntie. it’s you.” the relief in your tone made your friends snicker. “thank you, you didn’t have to...”

“why so surprised, dear? were you expecting someone?” she asked, waving at the set of friends bustling away inside the shop with the same annoying smiles on their faces. “oh that’s right. where’s that lovely boy, wonjin?”

“lovely boy,” serim whispered and bit back a laugh, earning him a glare from you.

“he can’t make it today, auntie,” you explained shortly, politely getting the plate of rice cakes from her hands.

“that’s too bad. it’s almost opening day.” she looked around the shop, satisfied by how it’s starting to look compared to the bare and boring unit she used to clean every day. “you worked your magic in this place. it feels just like yesterday when he was begging me to keep this small spot reserved for a day.”

“what do you mean?”

“wonjin, that boy! remember? he was here the day before both of you passed by to finally rent it? ”

“i- i didn’t know that, auntie.”

all this time, you thought you both found the place by chance and now here you were finding out that he was the one who made sure open seams happened. the walk you took that day wasn’t such a random one after all. what was up with the universe today and its not-so-subtle way of telling you to let wonjin back into your mind and your life? him taking you home last night and now this; whatever happened to the burdensome y/n he was talking about?

“aaaand, another secret’s out.” yuna walked out of the storage room, a box of spools in hand. she beamed at the landlady who took a few seconds to figure out what she just revealed.

“oh. oops.” the landlady sheepishly turned back and started to push the door open, ready to take her leave. “i think that’s my cue. see you around, dear.”

“see you around, auntie!” your three friends greeted her when she was out of the shop. they turned their heads back to you who had nothing but a blank stare and mouth agape, the gears almost visibly turning inside your head.

“so now will you tell us what’s been going on between you two? it’s just weird knowing about all that and seeing you guys refuse to make up. both of you aren’t looking so good either, you know?” serim asked after giving you a few seconds to think.

you sighed, leaning on the side of the table for support. “that day at the breakfast cafe, he said all this was getting kind of heavy and burdensome. that he couldn’t wait for it to end.” you decided to tell them once and for all about how you felt. “and that we were never going to happen.”

“y/n. you’re so stupid. ow!” jungmo concluded, earning him a smack to both shoulders by serim and yuna. “he was talking about that job he had! if you stayed longer and ate with us, you would’ve heard how smitten he was even if he wouldn’t admit it. i can see right through him.” jungmo explained in a high-pitched tone that reflected how frustrated he has been with the two of you. “now that i think about it, you’re both stupid.”

smitten? you took in everything jungmo just said and remembered every word you blurted out when you sent wonjin away that morning. finding out that he had another job all while helping you out with the shop for the past few months made you regret how you acted even more. it frustrated you that you’ve been too preoccupied to even ask about him. this is all on me. why did i act so rashly? “i’m so stupid.”

“are we just now finally finding out that this was all a big misunderstanding?” yuna piped up, breaking the silence.

“and are you telling me that it almost took a fallout for you to finally see the feelings you had for each other? these kids,” serim added, raising both hands in defeat.

different variations of ‘i knew it’ and ‘it’s about time’ as well as ‘idiots’ filled the shop as you were still frozen in place. you knew you had to apologize to wonjin, but where were you even going to start? with that encounter at the cafe? with how bad you felt for invalidating his heart to help you and rudely pushing him away? with everything you think you blurted out on that drunk night? or maybe how you actually felt for him?

can you meet me here in 30 minutes?

it took wonjin less than a heartbeat to reply to your message asking about where he was. even though you were the one who was out of it last night, he couldn’t help but worry over his own impulses. if you remembered everything he told you while he thought you were drunk and asleep, he had no choice but to explain it to you while you were fully-sober. and the thought of finally confronting you about everything made the usually-confident and talkative wonjin tongue-tied.

“hey.” you turned the corner of the small side-street where wonjin asked to meet and found him leaning against one of the street art-ridden walls, waiting for you. it was a spot near your shop but one that you didn’t pass by as frequently. an odd choice of a meeting place, but you figured he wanted to talk to you without your friends overhearing.

“here of all places?” you struck up a conversation albeit awkwardly, buying yourself time before the long apology.

he pointed to the wall behind him, looking at it up and down. “i was supposed to show you this sooner since they finished it early but…”

behind him was a small piece of street art. open seams, it said in the colors you usually used for your handmade pieces and in the style you designed for your simple logo. you softened not only at the thought that this shop was becoming a reality but also at how wonjin did this despite your missteps the past few days. at this point, you no longer knew if you were even worthy of him and his thoughtfulness.

“...you were supposed to show me this sooner but i was terrible to you, and i’m sorry. you didn’t deserve that. after everything... i don’t know if saying thank you would even be enough. that morning-”

“you look like you just lost a million won, y/n.” his reply cut you off, earning him a roll of your eyes to which he merely responded with a playful laugh. “auntie told you, huh? i knew i couldn’t trust her and her rice cakes.” wonjin joked again, now more relaxed than he was moments ago now that things are starting to look up between the both of you. if there was anything that he needed for comfort the past few days, it was the presence that he’s gotten so used to.

“i’ve had quite the morning, you know.” you told him as you eased into the conversation. “finding out you were the one who brought me home last night, finding out i wouldn’t have gotten the unit if not for you, and finding out i was mad at you over something i misunderstood. all this time.”

what proceeded was a detailed apology you practiced in your head beforehand. wonjin just laughed at how fast you were talking and he didn’t forget to give the occasional side comments to reassure you that he was still the old, talkative, and witty ham wonjin that you didn’t have to act differently around. you knew in yourself that this was one of the things you missed badly.

the weight you felt in your chest turned lighter as every bit of misunderstanding cleared out. “...all that because i didn’t even stop to think that one morning. i’m sorry…”

he delayed his response for a while, suddenly making you worry that he had more to be upset about. but he eventually nodded and waved away any remaining tension. “apology accepted.” wonjin ruffled your hair just like you always did with his. “we’re good. but do you remember anything else?”

“except for the fact that i threw up on your shoes, no, i don’t remember doing anything else.”

“the shoes were one thing.” he scratched his head and talked in such a low volume and such high speed you couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying just to tease you. “but not even me telling you i liked you while you were all leaning on my shoulder at the bus and that whole speech i said about falling for you after i tucked you in?”

“what? you said what when i was tucked in?!” you leaned in to hear him, only catching remnants of what you suspected was a confession.

“ah, too bad. it was a one-time subscription, so you’d have to pay to hear it again.” he shrugged.

“you little- just tell me! it’s not like it’ll be any more embarrassing than me pouring out my stomach contents on the sidewalk for everyone to see.” you stepped forward wanting to hear more from him but he shook his head and refused to tell you anything further. the mischievous smile on his face as he paced around to avoid your probing weirdly made your heart beat faster. “fine. i was planning to tell you about something important but i guess you don’t want to hear it-”

“i don’t need to. i already know your apartment password is my birthday.” he stopped pacing and expectantly searched your face for confirmation despite not needing it. “right, y/n? 032201?” he repeated the numbers again and again just to coax a reaction out of you, his favorite thing to do.

“wh- what are you talking about?” holy-. if there were any more of this kind of surprises today, you didn’t know how much more of the shock you could take, but it seems like wonjin was enjoying just watching you all flustered. “i opened it myself-”

“y/n, you were too drunk to even see the keypad last night. when i tried my luck, we got in. 032201? who else could that be?”

you were about to protest but as you were stuttering your poorly-made excuses, wonjin took your hand and slowly pulled you into a tight hug, all the while laughing at how ridiculous each of your statements was starting to sound. after the initial embarrassment passed, you realized there really was really nothing to hide anymore.

“are you done?” wonjin asked, still not letting go of his hold on you which you returned willingly, hugging him tightly and hiding your face in his chest. “because to put it simply, i like you.”

you sighed in content, feeling all the exhaustion from the past few days seep out of you with just those three words. “i like you, too, ham wonjin.”

“and one more thing…” you added. “jungmo told me you were smitten.”

it was wonjin’s turn to get flustered and defensive, you pulled your face away and leaned back to watch as he cursed at jungmo for describing him in such a way. wonjin trailed off in his usual rants while you looked up at him with no plans of stopping his lovable nonsense.

opening day

it was noontime on opening day: the ribbons have been cut, your mini-opening show went smoothly, friends have visited and selected their favorite pieces, and most of all, you have led the toast that officially marked the start of this journey. it felt utterly surreal.

“all i can say is…” wonjin put his arm around you as you stood beside the racks of clothing you spent months perfecting. “it was certainly worth the hundreds of pinpricks.”

“well, then. if you want more…” you pinched his side and laughed as he dodged you and made his way to your three other friends who were also admiring the work they did for the shop.

a few nights ago, on a nighttime walk home in this same neighborhood, you wished for a perfect week to unfold in front of you. and maybe it did; just not in the way you anticipated, but exactly the way you wished it would end.

#cravitywriters #cravity scenarios #cravity imagines #cravity fluff #cravity angst #wonjin angst #wonjin fluff #ham wonjin #wonjin scenarios #wonjin imagines #cravity #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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nakedmossy · 3 years

Text

Cruel Summer - Part 1 [JJ x Reader]

[A/N: Hi again. I've missed you. It was time for something new. I found this story in a dream. Prepare for a mental trip, it's indicative of the year i've had. This is gonna go in a million different directions and I can't say i'm surprised. Ive written two chapters and i'm already like ...well, fuck it i'm posting it...I needed to get back into writing and this is what I got so enjoy. I have a playlist I used while writing, comment if you want it shared. As always, not that any of us need the reminder....but there will be adult content (whatever that means) and language and NSFW content so...keep me off your screen at the dinner table. Love y'all ...Mossy x]

You ease your car into park, your hand resting on the gear shift, the tires slowly rocking back and forth on the soft ground as the engine dies. Sunlight streams through your windshield as a cloud of dust and sand settles around the car, and you feel a trapped breath release from deep in your chest. The quiet, melodic hum of music relaxes your shoulders and through the trees you can see the water rhythmically hitting the shore.

You haven’t been here in a few weeks and you're starting to feel it; the tight and uncomfortable tensing in your muscles, the locked jaw, the flat expressions. The closer it gets to the anniversary the more you feel the need to visit. But the frequency of your visits is dictated by Her, and She keeps tabs on your whereabouts a lot these days. ‘Its not healthy to spend so much time there’ She would say to you, while pulling a Valium out of her bag to slide towards you. She has your therapist on speed dial on the landline. And she blames you for living in the past. Ironic.

You pull your keys out of the ignition, unbuckle your seatbelt, and let your muscle memory guide you out of the car and through the trees to the edge of the embankment where the sand and the sea grass take over. Flashes of Lacey running down the beach in front of you, looking back over her shoulder and laughing, are burned into your eyelids when you blink. She was everywhere here, every corner of this beach belonged to her. Her towel spread out on the sand at your feet, books with water damaged pages scattered across it, her bag tossed lazily to the side. Her board perched against the log you used to dry out your wetsuits. Her camera.

You close your eyes and listen to the wind move through the grass, her laugh echoing off the rocks. Come on! She would laugh with an outstretched arm. Come take a picture with me.

Her lips were supple and her nose was sun kissed, her hair bleached and tousled from the saltwater. She would motion for you to come over and you would go, because you always did, to fit into the frame next to her, cramming yourself in wherever you could after she found her best angle. She would hold up the camera and wrap her arm around you tightly, the smell of her tanning oil and sweat floating around you in a heady cloud, and at the last moment she would press her lips to your cheek and whisper cheese.

You blink and look at the water again, a seagull squawking as it flies over the empty beach. Reaching into your jeans pocket and feeling for the photo, you pull it out and look down, the moment she clicked the button frozen in time on the paper in your hand. Her side profile was radiant, the wind blowing her hair around her lips which were pressed to your face, you looked straight at the camera with a shy smile, a hidden smile, a quiet smile. An honest smile.

You run your thumb across the picture reflexively before sighing and putting the picture back in your pocket, it was one of the last photos you had together and it was one of the only ones you could clearly make out your own face. That always bothered you. Now you’ll never forget how happy we were today. I love you. She shook the polaroid until it was developed, then pressed it into your chest and winked, waiting for you to grab ahold of it, before turning on her heal and running towards the water.

Your chest burns for a moment before you straighten up and set your jaw. You feel good today, closer to her than usual. Today might be the day. You follow the path through the dunes towards the water and concentrate on the tide, watching the foam and the water snake along the shoreline. It’s windy, but not as windy as it usually is this time of day. The sky, clear and clean of any clouds, is the colour of blue that reminds you what happiness is. Or was, you know, before all the shit happened. When life was something you had the ability to process, sometimes even enjoy.

Now or never. Your head whips up at the sound of her voice and you see her, standing in the water. You feel the blood rush to your face, your core warming. There she is, running a hand up her stomach towards her chest and smiling at you, the kind of smile that would get good people into bad situations.

Slowly you slide your sneakers off and kick them aside, wiggling the sand between your toes. You’re not wearing a bikini but the beach is empty, so you close your eyes and listen to Lacey laughing from the water, come on scaredy cat, nobodies looking, as you peel your top off and drop it into the sand beside your shoes. You unbutton your shorts next and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them hesitantly.

Lacey walks out of the water, so you keep your eyes closed, knowing if you open them she will be gone, and you wait for her to bite her lip and smile at you. There. Look at your body. You’re beautiful. Come on. She guides you towards the water with nothing but her own bare skin and confidence, nothing could ever touch her. You know its only a few steps until your feet are in the water, you should open your eyes and look around to make sure nobody is watching, but you don’t get to see her often anymore between the Valium and the other stuff, so you forgo it for a few more seconds. Today is the day, you have to do it. Time is running out. She’s all but told you as much.

“I miss you” You say, but your voice sounds foreign and it breaks and scatters into the wind.

Im right here. Lacey smiles at you like she always did, her crooked dimpled grin, her perfectly straight white teeth, her eyes shining. Now shut up and get in the water.

You feel the warm dry sand turn to wet firm sand beneath your feet, you know you’re close. It’s ours, all of it. The water. Just let go and let the Ocean carry you. You’re weightless. Isn’t it perfect?

Your breathing is shallow and your palms are clammy. There’s a tingling sensation in your thighs and you feel dizzy. You have to open your eyes. No, don’t. Not yet. Stay with me.

The water touches your toes and your eyes shoot open, you recoil and lose your footing, falling backwards. You crab crawl away from the water until the tide retreats and you feel your vision tunnelling as Lacey fades into the sunbeam above the water.

You scramble back to your clothes and pull your shorts above your sand stained underwear, your shirt smoothing your hair down as it settles back over your shoulders. You take a few deep breaths until your heart rate slows down. A tear springs up and sits in your eye for a few moments before falling and drying on your cheek. The beach is the best place to cry. The ocean is loud so nobody hears you, and the sun is hot so the tears dry fast.

You don’t want to turn around and look back at the water, you know she won’t be there. You’re alone, properly alone, just like she said you would be, psychic bitch. If she hadn’t been so charismatic and beautiful and conveniently wealthy, people would have outcasted her for being a freak a long time ago. What with all the tealeaves and palm readings and ‘gut feelings’. But they never did, her family had more money than the Kennedys and she looked like she walked runways for fun on the weekends, so she was untouchable. Your stomach starts to turn as you think about it so you blink the ground in front of you back into focus and start walking.

You have a few minutes of freedom left before She starts calling and asking where you are, so you walk slow to savour it. Who knows when you would be allowed out long enough again to go back.

You emerge from the tree cover into the parking area, pondering how many different routes you can take to get home to elongate the drive, when you hear a car door close. You look up, pulled from your thoughts, and squint to see through the bright sun.

“‘Scuse me!” A voice says, deep and friendly. A silhouette is moving towards you, so you bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. “Hey, sorry, do you live around here?”

You blink a few times as the silhouette gets closer and make out the figure of a tall man with wispy hair and baggy shorts.

“Sorry?” You reply, still trying to get a clear image.

“Im just trying to find the Marina but I have taken at least 5 of these side roads and all I keep finding is empty damn parking lots.” The man stops a few feet from you, close enough that you can make out a tan face with a toothy grin, and blonde hair. “First one with a pretty girl though, so I must be going the right way.” He smiles at you confidently, shielding his own eyes from the sun, but still squinting.

You look back over your shoulder to the beach, confirming Lacey is gone. You turn and look at the man who is watching you intently, hopefully, and smile quietly.

“Yeah, it’s uh…its just back on the main road, go 3 clicks south and take a right at the fork. You’ll see a fancy sign for a beach club, it’s just past that.” You look past him to the old Ford truck with rusted wheel wells and smile to yourself. “Assuming you’re not going to the beach club.”

The man laughs and smiles, looking over your shoulder at the beach before his eyes settle back on you. “Nope. Never been to one of those…legally.” He winks and backs up a few steps, then nods and says “Thanks” before turning and walking back towards his truck. He slows as he reaches it and stops, then turns back and pivots before jogging back to you.

You wait and watch, curious. He stops a few steps away and stretches out his hand.

“Sorry. That was rude of me. Im JJ.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #rudy pankow #obx fanfiction #obxedit #nakedmossywrites #cruel summer

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mvrtaiswriting · 4 years

Note

;A; UR WRITING,,,, JUST CHEFS KISS! mwah! its so stunning! as for a request,, anything with jotaro n a enby or fem s/o! go wild:)

Are you bored yet? - Jotaro Kujo.

huhfsu thank you so much dear!! 🥺

and sorry if this took way too long! here you have, i hope this meets your expectations! enjoy x

Neutral reader x Jotaro Kujo

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders

SFW // although there are some implicit hints to sex.

words count: 1663

Songs you should listen to / that inspired me for this work in terms of sound or lyrics: - Are you bored yet - Wallows - Sometimes - Ariana Grande

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment :) help me support my art (it’s free!),

His ocean eyes were locked on you as he gently played with your hair, paying attention to every little detail of yours. Sometimes he’d shift his fingers to your face only to caress your skin softly, his touch so gentle and delicate, almost as if he was scared to hurt you somehow. You kept your eyes closed while you rested your bare back against his strong chest, enjoying Jotaro’s rare display of affection. Your skin shivered every time Jotaro touched it, as if every centimetre of you was a chord of an instrument solely created for his hands.

One of his arms was wrapped around your body, his hand lazily resting on your hips. You slowly turned to face him, a soft smile forming on his face. Running a hand through his untameable curls, your locked your eyes on his. “Are you bored yet?”

You whispered, not having the courage to speak out louder than that. You feared his answer, you knew he wasn’t exactly the type to stick around. When you two started dating, it took a while for him to let another person invade his personal space, or worst, his mind. He was used to be alone, and liked his own company so much he never actually looked for other’s.

With you, however, it was different. The more time you spent together, the more he wanted you to stay. It all started as a little study project; he needed some help to pass an exam and you offered him your help. Kakyoin, his best friend somehow convinced him it was a good idea and he ended up reluctantly accepting your proposal.

The two of you started regularly meeting every afternoon. Sometimes you would stay at your place, other times you simply preferred to stay at your school’s library. At the beginning, Jotaro was hard to handle. He would often cut off every attempt of conversation you made with some rude comments and never really showed any sign of commitment to your project. Unluckily for him though, you were stubborn enough to not step back when confronted with his harsh manners and his intimidating behaviour. Day after day, you slowly managed to get him to talk to you. He started to pay attention to you and cooperate during studying session, even bringing you coffee before you started – surprisingly enough. He also stopped being so rude around you, allowing you two to create a beautiful bond.

When he successfully passed his exam, he didn’t want to let you go. He wasn’t ready to go back to his usual loneliness; it didn’t matter to him before you came into his life, but he got so used to having you around that the thought of going through a day without your cute laugh almost teared him apart – and he hated it. He hated how much you mattered to him and how much his mood depended on your presence. He felt vulnerable, and stupid. It just wasn’t like Jotaro to feel such things, or to let his emotions overwhelm him, but he couldn’t resist it. He just couldn’t let you walk out of his life as if the time you spent together for weeks didn’t matter at all. He needed those afternoons of yours when he listened to you passionately talking about what you liked the most or just being your goofy self around him.

When he asked you out the first time, he didn’t even look at you. “I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight.” was the only thing he said before covering his eyes with his black hat and walking away from you, leaving you speechless. You weren’t expecting any kind of invite from him; you thought the end of your study sessions coincided with the end of the friendship you managed to create over that short period of time – but he proved you wrong and you were eternally glad for it. You didn’t know what exactly made Jotaro decide to ask you out, nor you knew if he felt the same way you did whenever he was around you.

Later that night, he showed up at your house on time, the raging and unmistakable sound of his motorbike was enough to make his presence known. He helped you getting on the saddle of the motor, handling you one of his helmets. Once you made yourself comfortable you wrapped your hands around Jotaro’s waist and held onto him tightly, resting your chin on his shoulder to have a look at the road in front of you.

“Ready?” he said.

You nodded, a small laugh leaving your lips. At your signal, Jotaro made the engine of his motorbike roar once again, running through the streets of your city.

Your journey took a while and you didn’t quite talk in the meanwhile. He was focusing on his driving, and you were too busy admiring the sky around you, which was coloured in pink and orange while the sun slowly set. Once you arrived, he parked his motorbike safely and took his helmet off. It was the first time you saw him without his hat and the view was simply mesmerising. You always thought Jotaro was handsome and he was always able to give you butterflies, but this version of him was completely new to your sight and once again you found yourself hypnotised by his undeniable beauty.

He took your helmet off and held your hand while you got off the motorbike, ready to catch you in case you’d trip over or stumble somehow. He smiled at you, causing you to blush – everything felt unreal. You almost pinched yourself, questioning about whether you were wide awake or dreaming.

He took a towel and carried a couple of beers in his hands, before making you follow him to the beach. You spent the night talking by the sea, as the sky slowly turned dark leaving you under the light of thousands of stars and the moon. He was unusually talkative, but you didn’t complain – you loved how soft his voice could be, and you were so curious about what was going on inside his head. You always felt a certain way towards him, and being able to stay so close to him without being pushed away not only made you feel special, but also made your feelings towards him grow more and more.

“Thank you for this.”

You said, resting your head on his shoulder. His muscles stiffed for a second, before relaxing again.

“It’s nothing.” he answered quietly, before taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

You looked up at him, the feeling of your warm breath caused goose bumps on Jotaro’s neck. A soft shiver ran down his spine before he turned his face in order to look at you, leaning a bit towards you, your noses nearly touching. You gulped, slowly moving your gaze away from his; as you did so, he placed his big hand on your left cheek, pulling you closer to him before living a soft kiss on your lips – catching you out of guard. However, you kissed him back and while the two of you found the right pace for your kiss, he slowly leaned on you, holding himself on top of you letting his arms support his weight.

Passion got the best of you two – being at the beach didn’t matter at all. You needed love, touch. Every inch of your skin was eager of Jotaro’s touch, and he just couldn’t get enough of you, of your kisses, of how you made him feel. That night felt as if you finally let go of all the emotions you felt, letting your bodies explain how much you wanted each other.

When he drove you home, he left a small kiss on your lips wishing you goodnight, before disappearing into the dark of the night.

The next couple of dates always ended up the same way; you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves. You weren’t quite sure what type of relationship you and Jotaro had. Was it just sex? Was he your boyfriend? What were his feelings towards you? Every time you saw each other you ended up in bed, or talking about everything but you and your relationship. You knew exactly what you felt, but you couldn’t quite tell whether your feelings were reciprocated.

He told you he didn’t quite enjoy relationship and what derived from them, and that was what made you so insecure about your relationship. You remembered him telling you how he easily gets bored of people, and how he wasn’t the type to be into someone for much. This small talk the two of you had time ago still haunted you like a ghost, and you just couldn’t ignore it.

Until one day, while the two of you were lying in his bed, he let a “thank you for being mine” slip out of his mouth. That phrase almost made you jump, giving you an heart attack. “Yours?” you replied, your face lighted up with the biggest smile you ever made.

“Mine.” he repeated before pulling you in his arms, ready to start another round. This enabled you to finally gain the courage to ask him what was happening between the two of you. “Yare yare daze..” he sighed. “I thought it was clear we make a great couple.’ he said smirking.

Months with him passed rapidly. Both of you were living a true love story, enjoying every moment you got to spend together. --

“I’ll never get bored of you.” He said, placing a small kiss on your cheeks. “I don’t even think of letting you go, Y/N. I’m here to stay.” he continued, before putting you on top of him letting his hands wonder over every piece of your body.

“I love you, Joot.” you said, your eyes shining just as the first time. “Yare yare..” he mumbled before leaning in for a passionate kiss, not giving you the chance to reply and pulling the sheets over your heads, ready to show you how much he loved you.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 years

Text

Cutie

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Summary: While out with the Team, Spencer is made to feel unworthy because of his cane so Y/N tries to reassure him

Warning: Self-hate/doubt, discrimination, bit of fluff

Words: 1,518

A/N: I saw a post about S5 Spencer with his cane and I just had to write something!

Master List HERE Permanent Tag List HERE

The music was loud, the beat travelling through the seat and vibrating through your bones. The lights flashed overhead, the spotlight swinging across the dance floor as a mass of people jump to the music.

You lean back in your seat, holding your drink to your chest as you take a sip. You laugh as you watch Derek and Penelope dance, Derek spinning her round before pulling her in close with a huge smile on his face. Your eyes trail over to the bar, checking on Emily but she seems to be fine, smiling and chatting with a pretty blonde. JJ and Will, who had got a babysitter to look after little Henry, sat huddled together with Will whispering in JJ’s ear as she bit her straw. You quickly looked away; you loved those two but honestly… you didn’t not want to know.

Your eyes are drawn to Spencer, the sound of him sliding his glass of coke onto the table catching your attention. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable in the seat next to you, his eyes trailing over the club, his right hand playing with cane.

Spencer hardly went out with the team, and this was the first time he had been out since he was shot. When out on ‘team nights’ you often stayed with Spencer. While you enjoyed going out for casual drinks, you did not enjoy the clubbing scene. While your friends danced and chatted up someone who fit their tastes, you and Spencer would sit in a booth, watch their drinks and talk about whatever nonsense came to mind.

Tonight was different. Spencer seemed to be more uncomfortable than usual. On an ordinary night, he would be tense for the first hours before relaxing into conversation with you, his eyes flitting over to your friends to ensure they were okay. On this occasion, after being in the club for nearly two and a half hours, Spencer was not settled.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, leaning towards him so that he could hear you.

“I…I’m just going to go” he sighed, looking around awkwardly. “People are looking at me.”

You looked at his face for a moment and he flashed his eyes over to a small group. You followed his clue, eyes landing on a group of women who were looking at him. You looked back at Spencer, playful tracing your finger along his jaw, “Of course they’re looking at you, Spence, you’re a cutie.”

“It’s not actually me they’re looking at, Y/N, it’s the leg, the cane, that’s got their attention” he gives a small nod back to the group.

You look back over at them and actually take notice this time. They were only a few tables down from you, so you could see their eyes, even in the low lighting. Your smile dropped. Two of the girls were still looking over at your table and you could see their eyes were focused on Spencer, their gaze taking in his walking cane. One of the other girls in the group is talking to the group, but her face is at an angle where you can just make out her lips.

“As if he’s actually come here with a cane, what the fuck? What’s he getting at?”

If you could make out the words, Spencer definitely could. He was a much better lip reader than you.

You drop your glass onto the table and push your chair backwards. “Hey, JJ, Spence and I are gonna go. It’s getting late and he promised to take me for breakfast tomorrow.”

JJ paused mid giggle, turning away from Will. “Okay, Y/N, we’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” you smile before turning to Spencer. “Come on, cutie, home time.”

To leave the club, you have to pass the group of women. You stay close by Spencer’s side in a show of support, your hand gently resting on his back as you make your way outside. On your way past, your eyes meet those of the woman that spoke. You give her your best glare and it clearly works as she quickly looks away.

Once outside, you led Spencer to your car. You only ever drank lemonade on nights out, ensuring that you sober enough to drive home. Normally, you drove most of the team home but Will was here tonight and he hadn’t been drinking, he could ferry people back.

“You can stay at mine tonight, cutie, I can’t not be bothered to drive the extra ten minutes” you told him, reaching your car.

“Can you stop calling me that” Spencer sighed.

“What, cutie? Why?” you asked, turning to face him. “I thought you liked it when I used nicknames?”

“I do but not…not that one” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m not cute. I’m awkward and now, I’ve got a messed-up leg. I might not be able to walk without a cane ever again and what would that mean for my job? The FBI won’t want an agent who can’t even support their own weight. Did you know, disabled individuals have to apply for sixty per cent more jobs than non-disabled people before they get a job? Not to mention the fact, people obvious don’t like that I’m using a cane. I wasn’t the most attractive anyway but now? With this cane? I get comments like the one from that girl. And worse.”

You stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at the man before you. Was that really what he thought? Oh god, please no. Your eyes focused on him, the way he looked back at you with such sadness, fear and pain, his chest heaving at his outburst. You took a step closer to him, your hand going to hold his arm gently.

“Spence, no, you can’t think that about yourself” you shook your head. “Yeah, you can be awkward but hey, so can everyone at times. Its actually really endearing. You got injured in the line of duty, when saving a mans life… that’s incredible. I mean, I’m not happy you got hurt, but you know…” you gave an awkward shrug. He gave a soft snort at your words, shaking his head but you could see the tiny smile. “And your job is being a profiler. You don’t have to go round literally chasing unsubs to be a profiler, I mean, the FBI already made an exception to let you in the field anyway. You’re almost as bad as me when it comes to foot chases and that’s saying something. Remember when I tripped over that rock while chasing Markowitz?”

You both laughed for a moment, remember that day in Ohio. You’d been chasing the unsub when you’d tripped and fell straight over. Spencer had stopped to help you, checking out your grazes while Derek and JJ had continued in the pursuit of Markowitz.

“Anyway,” you shook you head, smiling fondly at the memory. “You can still do your job without being in the field, and you’re proved that already. Plus, you’re the best profiler the FBI has ever seen. They’d be crazy to get rid of you, and you know what? I wouldn’t let them. We need you, the team needs you, the whole country does. And that statistic? That’s a statistic for discrimination. Their asses should be beat, and you know it. Also, I’m not going to stop calling you ‘cutie’. You’re cute, Spence, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Cane or no cane, long hair or short, glasses or no glasses, sharp suit or your little cardigans… you’re a complete cutie. Honestly, I don’t understand why you think you’re so unattractive because honey, I don’t see it. Honestly, you should look at yourself because da-”

Your words are cut off as an arm wraps around your waist and your pulled into his chest. Your eyes widen as Spencer presses his lips against yours. Your frozen in shock, unable to move, to respond, as he kisses you.

Had you dreamed of this before? Sure, but you never thought it would happen. Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. He was tall with curly brown hair and a one-hundred-watt smile. He was kind and generous, thoughtful and sweet. In all honesty, he was the pack deal.

You’d harboured a crush on him for a while now. His laugh made your stomach flutter, his smile warmed your insides. You found yourself paying even more attention to his spirals of information, though you had always paid attention anyway. Your eyes were drawn to his hands – oh those mouth-watering hands!

While you had a thing for him, you had no idea that he felt anything more than friendship towards you.

Spencer pulled back, his hands dropping from your waist as his eyes widened. He seemed shocked by his own behaviour while simultaneously fearful of your reaction. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!”

“Shut up” you order, grasping him by the shirt and pulling his lips down to meet yours again.

Yes, Spencer Reid with a cane was just as good as Spencer Reid without a cane. What were those women thinking?

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #jj #season 5 spencer

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {7}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We are absolutely blown away by how much y’all enjoy this story. We’ve loved writing it for you and we get just as excited for a new chapter as y’all do! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta hated going to school.

She felt so overwhelmed, so crowded, so completely lost in the sea of people that filled the halls of Velaris High School. Elain and Feyre had always found their place within those halls fairly quickly, absolutely, but Nesta floated. She went from one class to the next, sticking her nose in a book every chance she got. She didn’t make friends. Didn’t have acquaintances.

She did have one go-to, but he didn’t go to VHS. He was in the next town over.

Tomas Mandray.

As soon as she sat down at her desk in algebra, she pulled out her phone. She had three missed messages.

10:31 - Hey. I’m planning on picking you up later.

10:42 - We could stay in, if you want. (;

10:56 - I’ll be out of town this weekend, so spend time with me now.

At first, Nesta almost didn’t reply, but then she typed back, I’ll be ready at 7.

She hated that she loved Tomas Mandray.

———

At seven o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on the front door of the house.

“That's Tomas, I’ll be home later!” Nesta hollered, trying to get out of the house before her father could drag her boyfriend into another conversation about the merits of a lightweight rope versus one with more snap.

“Hold on just a minute!” Isaac called, coming from the kitchen. “That boy is headed to Guthrie this weekend.” Nesta groaned as she pulled open the door and her father practically yanked him through the threshold. “You planning on bringing home a buckle?”

“Yes, sir,” Tomas smiled, shaking his hand. “Always.”

Isaac nodded and said, “Damn straight, I remember my trip to the National Championship, granted, I rode Broncs, mind you, but-.”

“Dad, we have to go. We have reservations,” Nesta coolly lied. “I’ll be home around 10:30.”

Her father waved her comments off. “Nah, don’t worry about a curfew tonight.” He rested his hands on Tomas’ shoulders. “It’s not everyday your future son-in-law makes it to the National Junior Rodeo Championship.”

Nesta’s cheeks burned. “Right. Well, we really have to go.”

She was hurrying out the door, dragging Tomas by the hand as she did so.

“Good to see you, Mr. Archeron!” Tomas called, as Nesta shut the front door behind them. “I like talking to your dad.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Nesta said. She hated when Isaac talked to Tomas. He was so certain that he and Nesta would be together forever, and the thought often made her sick to her stomach yet hopeful at the same time. It was a strange combination.

She climbed up into the passenger side of Tomas’s truck and leaned back as he took off.

“I missed you.”

Nesta nodded. “You, too.”

He reached across the middle of the seat and took her hand. “So, will you be coming to watch me this weekend? It’s the National-”

“-Junior Rodeo Championship, yeah, I know,” she finished.

“Damn, what’s stuck up your ass?” he muttered.

“Nothing,” Nesta sighed. “I wish we could, but dad says we have two couples staying the whole weekend.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost relieved when her father told her that a group of friends had booked the weekend last minute. The last thing she wanted to deal were the buckle bunnies in training that followed the rodeos around. She wouldn’t have to deal with the cheap beer and the greasy food and tobacco spit and the blood and sweat and (usually) tears.

His thumb rubbed a circle into the back of her hand. “Well, maybe just you could come. You could leave with me after lunch tomorrow. You know your dad would sign you out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, they need me to cook for the guests.”

It was true. No one else in the house had an ounce of culinary ability, and it just so happened to be Nesta’s favorite thing in the world.

Tomas frowned. “No one else can cook for the guests?”

Nesta shook her head. “None as good as me. Besides, I love cooking.”

“Cooking is a stupid thing to love,” Tomas said, and Nesta stilled. “Why cook when you can come watch me win a national title?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer that would please him.

“Besides, after we graduate, you’ll be coming with me on the road all the time,” he went on. “May as well get used to it now.”

“I’m not sure I want to go on the road all the time,” Nesta said. “You know it’s my dream to open my own restaurant, I can’t really do that if I’m travelling with you.”

Tomas shook his head, laughing quietly. “Come on, Nes.”

“Come on, what?” She asked, turning to look at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Is my dream not as important as yours?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m trying to say, babe. It’s just,” he reached over and skimmed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “If you stay here and open a restaurant, and I go pro, we’re never going to see each other.” They came to a stop at a red light. He turned to her. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, I do.”

“Then you need to come with me. So we can be together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Nesta only nodded, agreeing that yes, she would think about it, but she already knew it wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t made for the rodeo life.

Just like her mother hadn’t been.

It was because of her mother that they even had the ranch, because she loved Nesta’s father, but didn’t love the city to city, night to night lifestyle he lived in the professional rodeo circuit. So after they got married, and Nesta was on her way, her mother had convinced Isaac to hang up his ropes and buy the ranch. And he’d loved it.

And it worked for them, Nesta’s parents. Isaac found his love in ranching, they got to be together and raise their girls. But Tomas would never be that. He was too hard headed, too stuck in the rodeo life. He loved it, and Nesta had to admire that, but she didn’t have to give up her dreams for that admiration.

She was going to become a chef.

She was going to stay put, in the city, or maybe go somewhere like Paris or Barcelona or Tokyo. All she knew was that the last place she wanted to be was stuck in a truck, driving from city to city for the fucking rodeo.

She just didn’t know how to tell Tomas that, because Tomas never accepted an answer that wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

Nesta was so caught up in her own thoughts that it took her nearly fifteen minutes to realize they weren’t on the way to the restaurant. But it took her only a few seconds later to realize where they were going. “Tomas, please, not tonight. We can’t have one night without it?”

He gestured to the arena. “It’s a round robin, babe. I’ll run eight head max and walk out of here seven hundred dollars richer.” Nesta only rolled her eyes and looked out the window. He went on, “Plus, I heard from Beron there will be sponsors here tonight. Granted, they’re here for some big headed jock from VHS, but once they see me, he won’t matter.”

Nesta stopped listening, but subconsciously, she knew that Tomas talked until they parked.

“You don’t even have your horse,” she said, as a last ditch effort. She knew this fact hadn’t somehow escaped him, but she didn’t understand what he was hoping to accomplish by being here without Rain.

“Oh, I’m buying one,” he laughed, as if that was such a minor thing to forget. “Yeah, that’s the whole reason we’re here. So, I can test out this horse. If she’s got some crack to her, I’m not putting a national championship on the line.”

Nesta couldn’t believe him. He’d taken their last night home together and hijacked it.

Pulling into the dirt lot, Nesta breathed a heavy sigh. Tomas hopped out of the truck and reached into the backseat, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and popping the top. She laughed incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you something, too,” he smirked, lifting the wine coolers out of the ice. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she was looking to drink, too. It was that, once again, she’d been overshadowed by roping. “Come on, I gotta go warm that horse up.”

“I’ll be right there,” Nesta said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing her sister’s number. “I need to ask Elain something real quick.”

“Alright, well, hurry up,” he said, smacking the roof of the truck. “I want you to get some video of me I can post.”

Grinding her teeth, she nodded, and put the phone to her ear. Tomas shut the door and Nesta lowered the phone back to her lap, never even having pressed the call button. She looked out the truck window, out over the fields, that rolled on and on, and just saw...nothingness.

Without thinking about it, Nesta hopped out of the truck, threw her purse over her shoulder and began walking towards the road.

The rustic back roads of Velaris weren’t lit with street lamps, so she pulled her phone out and used it as a flashlight. After about fifteen minutes of walking, her phone died and she was left in the dark.

An older truck, heading in the direction of the arena, stopped when they saw her walking along the side of the road. An unfamiliar voice called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Miss? Do you need a ride?”

She kept walking and ignored the truck, passing it and disappearing into the darkness.

————

At quarter after midnight, Nesta finally walked up the worn wooden steps of the ranch house. Her phone had been dead for hours and by the time she reached the city, she knew her family would be asleep.

She wondered if Tomas had noticed her absence. She wondered if he’d tried to call her.

She unlocked the front door and crept in, trying to miss the creaking board by the living room doorway.

“That you, Nes?”

She sighed, hoping he wouldn’t come into the foyer, where she stood with one door already on the first step. “Yeah, dad.”

He groaned as he sat up on the couch. “Tomas with you?”

She swallowed heavily. “No, sir.” She started to ascend the steps. She looked like shit, he couldn’t see her like this, covered in dust and who knows what else. She didn’t want to tell him what happened, didn’t want to deal with him telling her that Tomas was the best thing to ever happen to her. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She hurried up the stairs and shut her door with a soft click.

Begging herself not to cry, she slipped off her clothes and slipped into a cozy pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She should take a shower, but she didn’t want to wake her sisters by turning it on. So, instead, she trudged across the hall, into the bathroom, and wiped herself off with a wet cloth.

All she had wanted was one thing: to go to a nice dinner with her boyfriend. Instead, she was left alone for the night in a place that she hated, expected to cheer Tomas on in a sport, in an environment, she couldn’t care less for.

And Tomas didn’t even seem to care or notice. At least now she would get a weekend alone, a weekend spent in the kitchen, a weekend creating dishes that people would praise her for. And it wasn’t that Nesta needed the praise, but when her world revolved around Tomas’s accomplishments, it was nice to be the one appreciated for once.

When her phone finally booted up, she didn’t have a single text from Tomas.

—————

Friday went by pretty uneventfully. She was exhausted, yes, but she was mostly distracted by the fact that Tomas hadn’t responded to her text message that morning.

She had bumped into someone in the halls, between economics and chemistry, and after she’d apologized, he’d stopped her and asked if she was alright. His hazel eyes were bright and his voice was kind. She’d given him a quick nod and gone on her way.

After school, she went straight to the store, gathering ingredients for delicious baked goods and savory recipes she’d been dying to try. Just as she was getting into a good mood, excited to bake for hours on end, she got home, and that mood went straight to hell.

“We’re going to surprise Tomas.”

She had just set her bags down on the kitchen counter when she froze, her father’s words making her smile fade into nothingness. “What?”

“I’ll drive you down, go pack,” he said, waiting for her to be grateful. “Tomas wanted you to go so badly, and I know you want to be there to support him. So, I worked it out, bought tickets, booked a room….Come on, Nesta, take a little roadtrip with your dear old dad to support your boyfriend.”

Nesta frowned. “I- I can’t. I just bought all of this to make for the guests-.”

“I called your aunt to come stay with your sisters and take care of the guests,” Isaac replied, beaming. “Come on, Nesta. This could be life changing for him, which means it could be life changing for you. You want to be there, don’t you?”

No, she thought, she absolutely did not want to be there.

She was fairly sure, if Tomas lack of communication was any indication, that he didn’t want her there either.

“I can’t, dad,” she said, grasping for any chance to get out of this. “I’ve got a final paper due on Monday and I haven’t even started it.”

“You can work on it in the truck,” he replied, packing a cooler with the essentials - beer, of course - and patting the top of it when he flipped the lid closed. “Now, go pack. If we want to see the numbers ceremony, we have to leave before four.” He hefted the cooler up, and was out the backdoor, going to load it in the back of the truck.

Nesta sighed, knowing that her father was just as hard headed as she was. She wasn’t going to win this battle.

She dialed Tomas number one more time, seeing the other three times she’d tried to call him, unsuccessfully, and listened to it ring. When the voicemail started, she said, “Hey, it’s me. We need to talk about last night and I- I need to talk to you. Can you call me, please? I love you.”

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

It was a four hour drive to Guthrie, Oklahoma. Four hours to sit on her phone and scroll through her timeline. Four hours for her dad to listen to shitty music and act like this was a fun, little trip they were taking. Four hours to flip through recipe boards and save things she wanted to try next. Four hours to call Tomas with no answer on the other line.

Nesta couldn’t even lie to herself and pretend something had happened, couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t getting her texts or calls. He was still posting on Facebook, still sharing pictures he found funny, still going about like nothing was wrong.

And then, with a little less than an hour left in their silent drive, they blew a tire.

For the first time since they began their journey, Isaac’s smile faltered. They pulled onto the side of the road and Isaac turned off the engine. Nesta still had her bare feet up on the dash, still was scrolling through her phone when Isaac got out of the truck.

He was muttering something under his breath but Nesta didn’t pay him any mind. She was too bitter that she was there to begin with.

Maybe they wouldn’t have a spare and they’d be stuck there for the entirety of the weekend. With any luck, they would have to call Elain to come and get them and take Nesta back home.

That hope faded when Isaac pulled a tire out of the back.

The tire was changed, the flat caused by a deep gash from a nail they hit along the road at some point, and they were back on their way. It cost them nearly two hours, though, and by the time they pulled into the skeezy motel her father had booked a room in, the first night of the rodeo was all but done.

Isaac kept apologizing, saying they’d get to the arena early the next morning, that was she could find Tomas before everything began. Nesta wasn’t stupid though, she knew her dad’s old roping buddies were all here, all with their sons or daughters, if there were here for breakaway or to run barrels. She was sure he was excited to tell them that the up and coming Tomas Mandray was his soon-to-be son-in-law. Or so he thought.

The last thing she heard him say before he fall asleep was, “Man, I can’t wait to see his face.”

Yeah, she thought. Me either.

She didn’t sleep at all that night and when morning came she was completely exhausted. On top of that looming exhaustion, she felt nauseated at the thought of Tomas seeing her. She had called him once more before she’d “gone to sleep” the night before but got his voicemail, once again.

As Nesta hopped into the truck with Isaac, she thought she was going to puke all over the floorboards. Her father was so excited at being back at the rodeo that he didn’t even notice his firstborn's silence or discomfort.

Nesta hated him for that, hated him for not noticing, for not listening.

She hated him for forcing her to be here, for forcing her into this life, just like he had her mother.

Tomas was just like her father.

And her? She was just like her mother.

Two people who were attracted to one another but shouldn’t have a future together, because that future would be shit, no matter how hard they tried.

By the time Isaac parked their truck, Nesta was paralyzed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.

Perhaps she should be the bigger person. She should go and find him, apologize, and tell him good luck. But even though that’s what she should do, the thought had her hands shaking at her sides.

You can do this, don’t be an idiot, she told herself. She should consider herself lucky. At seventeen, she had found someone who loved her.

At least, he told her he did.

Until he got pissed and stopped answering her calls.

“Coming, Nesta?” Isaac asked, grin wide, tapping on her window. He was ready to go dwell in his safe haven. Nesta had to follow him. She was his excuse to be there, after all.

She nodded, and took a deep breath before opening the passenger side door and hauling herself out.

Nesta and her father gave their tickets to the man at the door and walked in. Isaac stopped and stood there, breathing it all in.

All Nesta could smell was horse shit.

“Isaac Archeron, you son of a bitch, what are you doing here?��

With that one sentence, her father was whisked away, into conversations with his old rodeo friends, seeing people he hadn’t seen since before Nesta was ever even thought of. And she was on her own.

Nesta sat down in the stands. She fiddled with her phone, not wanting to scroll through Instagram for the fiftieth time that day, but having nothing better to do.

Until her phone rang.

His name flashed up on her screen. She’d been trying to get in touch with him for three days, yet now that he was calling her back, she couldn’t make her hands work, couldn’t remember how to swipe her finger across the call to answer the phone.

She answered, but her voice was hesitant as she said, “Hello?”

“Nes? Hey, sorry, my phone hasn’t been working.”

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

“It’s okay,” she lied. She stood, walking down the bleachers and looked towards the entrance. Her father was still where she’d left him, telling war stories and talking about the good ole days. She could see the stables behind a tarp with the rodeo association's name on it. She asked, “Are you warming Rain up?”

“Nah, he’s good to go. I got a ride in this morning. Just getting him brushed down.”

He hasn’t said a single word about her leaving the other night. Had he not noticed? Was she that insignificant that he hadn't even realized she was gone?

“Well that’s good.” She sighed. “Can we talk for a-?”

He cut her off. “Hey, babe, I gotta get going. Wish me luck?”

“Oh, I- Okay. Good luck,” she said. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you, too,” he said, already pulling the phone from his face. “Bye.”

Nesta stood still as the line went dead. With a deep sigh, she shoved her phone into her pocket. He must be getting ready to make his debut for the day, maybe she would be able to catch him, surprise him, before he went.

He wanted her to wish him luck.

Maybe she would, if only she could catch him in time.

She wandered around the bleachers, dodging people who looked like they lived and breathed watching underage rodeo championships.

She had never seen so much hype. The rodeo was somewhere she hoped to dodge as often as possible even though, obviously, she wasn’t always blessed enough to do so.

Either way, she continued on her journey to finding Tomas, but she came up short.

Looking down at her tennis shoes, which were covered in dust and dirt, she scolded herself for not packing different shoes. Not only were her sneakers filthy but her feet hurt like shit from all the walking.

Another name was called to get on deck, but she didn’t hear Tomas’, so she went on her way. Maybe he was off somewhere trying to clear his head.

With that thought, she went around to the back of the bleachers, where trucks and trailers were lined up. She passed people laughing and celebrating in deep conversation, but they all ignored her, thankfully.

She turned the corner at the end of the row, though, and froze.

She had found Tomas, but he wasn’t getting ready.

At least, he wasn’t getting ready alone.

His lips were stuck to a girl’s neck, whose head was thrown back, her eyes closed. He was palming her breast beneath her tied up flannel shirt.

Nesta tried to say something, but she had once again been paralyzed, frozen in place.

“‘Scuse me, ma’am.” An older man leading a horse stepped around her, and the horse whinnied as it passed.

The sound got Tomas’ attention.

His eyes went wide as he saw her standing there, in the doorway to the stables. He blinked a few times, and the girl didn’t realize their fun was over. Her hands roved over his body and she kissed his neck. Nesta began to shake her head and walk away.

“Ne- Nesta, wait!”

She turned and it took everything in her not to break into a run. She wanted to leave. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

Her entire future, that stupid future she was dreading so much, but the only plan she’d ever had… it was gone.

“Baby!” His voice was much closer than it had been and his hand closed around her wrist. “Baby! Baby, baby, baby. Hey, it’s not what it looks like.”

Her voice was small, but she said, “Get your hands off of me.”

He didn’t. Instead he gripped her shoulders and said, “Whatever you thought you just saw, I promise you’re wrong.”

“It’s a little hard to misinterpret that,” Nesta snapped, snatching her wrist free. “You ignored my calls. Made me feel like shit for the other night. And while I was feeling like shit...you were getting….” Nesta’s words trailed off, and she laughed, loudly, humorlessly. “Fuck off, Tom.”

“Hey,” he begged, brushing her hair back, the hair that had come undone from her ponytail. “Don’t do this.”

Nesta hated herself for crying in front of him, for shaking her head, for taking a step back. “It’s over. I never want to see you….never want to see you again.”

Her voice broke, and that only made the pitiful scene worse.

Nesta Archeron walked away from Tomas Mandray, and she never wanted to look back.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian

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venicebitch1999 · 4 years

Text

Late Night Confessions

Pairing: Fezco/Reader

Summary: You and Fezco spend some time stargazing. Who will make the first move?

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of underage drinking and drug dealing.

A/N: Hey, y’all! This is my first writing I’ve actually posted, so bear with me. I love Fezco so much, he’s my fucking cinnamon apple and deserves more writings. Let me know what y’all think though! Feedback is always appreciated. ❤️ Much love.

You were currently driving out to your favorite weekend spot, the cliff about three miles out of town that overlooked the city. You and your best friend, Fezco, had made plans to meet up and stargaze. Every once in a while, when you two needed an escape, you would go to your favorite spot and observe the night sky. It wasn’t often that you did this, but you never passed the opportunity up. You loved these little moments with him.

Fezco had been in your life for close to seven years. You had met him the first day of seventh grade, and although people came and went throughout your school years, Fezco stayed by your side. Fezco, eventually, dropped out to help take care of his grandma. When money became tight, he started drug dealing. He thought this would scare you away for sure, but no. Best friends stuck together no matter what.

Eventually, you grew to love him, beyond just friends. He was charismatic, polite, soft-spoken, and protective. He would take a bullet for you. Because you didn’t want to risk your friendship, you kept those feelings to yourself. He had enough on his plate already.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Fezco’s car parked near the cliff’s edge. You were so in love, even the sight of his car had you feeling giddy. You parked your car next to his and unbuckled your seatbelt. You knew he was already waiting for you at your usual spot, a grassy area farthest away from the road. You both thought this area was the best place to see the nighttime skies, as no trees or dirt were present.

You walked towards your spot and saw that he was already laying down on the blanket, looking upwards. You could hardly make out his figure, but you knew he looked just as good as ever. Hearing your footsteps approach, he turned to look at you. You smiled at him, placing your backpack with the radio you both used to play your tunes down, and greeted him with a shy “Hey, Fez.”

He moved over, giving you some room on the blanket to get comfortable and replied “What’s up, Y/N?”

Yep, you were right. He did look good. He was dressed in a simple long sleeved black shirt, gray sweatpants, and his favorite duo, socks and slides. How the hell did someone manage to look so fucking amazing in something so plain? You had no idea, but he did it with ease.

Fezco thought you looked amazing too. Your attire consisted of a cropped red sweatshirt, black leggings, and black high top converse. He couldn’t help but stare at you. You always looked beautiful.

Fez had had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Before he had even officially met you, he’d seen you at school and thought you were one of the prettiest girls on the planet. The day he mustered up the courage to talk to you was the best day of his life, because that was the start of your friendship. Over the years, Fez watched you grow up. He was there when your first boyfriend broke your heart at winter formal sophomore year, even threatening to beat his ass afterwards. He was there when your parents separated. He was there when you graduated high school. He was there when you dropped out of college to help take care of your younger siblings after your dad’s alcoholism reached its peak. He was there for it all. Your friendship meant everything to him, so he never told you about his true feelings. He couldn’t lose you.

“Oh, you know, just getting ready to hang out with some loser.” you answered, with a wink.

He laughed sarcastically, “Ha ha ha, you think you cute or something, huh?” he said while he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, or something.” you sassed, pulling your speakers out of your backpack and connecting your phone to it before turning it on shuffle and laying down. The sounds of “Ribs” by Lorde started playing.

“No lie, I fuck with this kinda music.” Fezco admitted.

You smiled and looked up at the trillions of tiny, twinkling stars. “Yeah, I know. You haven’t complained once about my music.”

“It’s nice to hear new shit. I like all kinds of music, like that one chick. Uh, I think her name is Lana? Ion know, but she kinda fire.” he commented.

You gave him a little side-eye. “Del Rey?” you asked causing him to look at you.

“Oh yeah! Her. Yeah, she got some hits. Some of her shit got me sad as hell.” he said.

You laughed loudly, “More like all her shit.”

Fezco smiled and you both fell into a comfortable silence. Gazing up at the thousands of twinkling stars, you let your mind wander. You thought about your relationship with Fezco. Did it have the potential to be anything more? You wondered what it felt like to kiss him, to have his hands on your thighs, to feel his arm around your waist. You wondered what it felt like to be called his.

“So.. Rue told me something today.” Fezco said nervously, still looking upwards.

You quirked your eyebrow up, and looked at him. “What’s she gossiping about now?” you asked with a joking twinkle in your eye.

“Ion know if it’s true or what. She said she overheard it at last night’s party or some shit.” he claimed.

Fuck. Last night’s party was a trip, you hardly remembered it. “Spit it out, dude.” you pressed.

“Ight. Well, she said you was fucking around with Cameron Gates. She said someone saw y’all making out? Ion know, that’s just what she heard.” he finally said.

Your eyes widened. “Fuck, I was so drunk last night. I don’t even remember that. I mean, Cameron always tries to get with me at parties and shit, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” you admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“Cameron is a dick. I didn’t wanna believe it, but I mean, you do you.” he said icily. He could feel the jealousy creeping in. He didn’t like knowing other guys were into you.

You looked at him, a little confused at his tone. “Uh, okay? I mean, I’m not into him like that. I was just wasted. Besides, I’m 20. I’m allowed to make out with people if I want to,” you snipped. “I’m not even into guys like him anyways.”

Fezco snorted. “Whatever you say.” he said sarcastically.

“The fuck? We were just having a good time. What’s with you?” you asked him with a glare.

“I mean, you’ve only ever dated guys like him, so Ion know why you lying.” he pointed out.

Yeah, Fez was right. You dated a lot of guys that ended up being really shitty boyfriends who only wanted one thing. In your defense, the one guy that you did want to date had friendzoned you, so you had limited options.

“Yeah, well if I could date who I wanted to, I would’ve never dated those guys.” you said while sitting up. You didn’t like this conversation, you felt defensive.

Fezco followed your actions and looked at you. You looked angry, embarrassed, and hurt by what he said. He instantly felt bad for making you upset. You were right, you were having a good time. He just wanted to confirm what he’d heard. It was selfish, but he was bothered by it.

“I’m sorry, ma. I just don’t fuck with that Cameron guy. He only wants to fuck you and dip. You deserve more than that shit.” he said softly as he grabbed your hand and observed the rings on your fingers.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach. “Oh yeah? And what is it that I deserve?” you asked, with a little smile playing on your lips.

Fezco’s eyes met yours and he placed a tiny kiss on your ring finger. “You deserve everything good in life, Y/N. All the shit you’ve ever dreamed of having, you deserve it. You too good for all these dumbass guys around here.” he declared.

You looked at him and gave him a shy smile. You felt lost for words. Nobody had ever told you that before.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Fez letting go of your hand to trace the small tattoo on your exposed waist. “Can I ask you something?” he inquired.

You hated when people asked that question. Your anxiety heightened immediately. “Um, yeah. Go ahead.” you answered.

“You said you wanted to date someone earlier. Who was you talking about?”

Fuck. Should you tell him? It was always hard to lie to Fez. He knew immediately when you were bluffing. Lying would be obvious, no matter how hard you tried to mask it.

You stumbled over your words, trying to come up with a vague answer. “Um, I mean- Well, I-.. He’s uh- Fuck, I can’t talk right now.”

Fezco raised an eyebrow at you. “You about to lie,” he chided. “Lying ain’t ever get you anywhere with me, mamas. Might as well tell me the truth. I ain’t gonna tell nobody. You and Rue the only people I fuck with.”

You sighed loudly. “Okay. Fine. I’ll be honest, but like you gotta promise this won’t be weird, alright? You’re my best friend. I don’t want us to be awkward.”

He looked at your serious expression and nodded. “Ight, swear on my life.” Fezco was feeling nervous now. Why were you so serious?

You hesitated before speaking. “Um, okay. Uh. Well, the guy I like may or may not be you.” you finally managed to say.

Your face was beet red and your palms were sweaty. You watched as he looked into your eyes for any signs of a joke. He thought for sure this was a prank. There was no way you felt that way about him.

“Like deadass?” he asked, feeling nervous.

“Deadass.” you replied simply.

Wow, he never thought you’d felt that way about him before. He was for sure his love would always be unrequited.

“But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I love our friendship. We can pretend this never happened.” you stated, feeling a little defeated by his silence.

He laughed. “Y/N, what the fuck? I been having a crush on you. Like ever since you walked onto the fucking playground that day at school and punched Nate Jacobs’ brother in the face for trying to kiss you.”

You were shocked. Holy shit. Fezco felt the same way? No fucking way. All these years, and neither one of you said a thing. How could you have been so clueless to one another?

“Oh my god. We seriously been having secret feelings for each other all these years? What kinda soap opera shit?” you laughed.

Fez laughed with you before taking your hand and kissing the palm. “Come’ere, ma. I wanna give you a kiss. I been waiting like ten years for this.” he admitted.

You moved closer to him and let him grab hold of your waist. You put your arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes. “Then kiss me.” you said.

He moved his head downwards and locked lips with yours. The fireworks that people claim to feel in movies? Yeah, that feeling is real. You had never been kissed with such passion and love before, and you definitely didn’t mind it. His hands moved to your lower back as he pulled you closer. He moved his lips from yours down to your neck, where he placed a chaste kiss to the spot behind your ear, before looking into your eyes with a smirk.

“How about we make this official, huh?” he said.

You laid back down, pulling him over your body. “Okay then, boyfriend.” you winked.

He leaned down to give you another kiss. “I like the sound of that, mamas.”

#euphoria #fezco #angus cloud #imagine #fezco euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco imagine #fez

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