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qlossytbh · 6 months

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𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after a long day working on a specific murder case, all you want is to do was fall asleep, next to your boyfriend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fluff fluff and more fluff, established relationship, fem reader, brief mention of insecurity (spencer’s side), general cm content

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.4k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 started criminals minds and i fear this man is gonna push me down a rabbit hole. inspired on season 4 spence

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Longs days at work were usually your favorite— unless they induced an unhealthy amount of stress on you.

Unfortunately, today had been one of those days. To start off, Hotch called you in earlier, around six in the morning, due to an emergency statement issue he needed you to put together regarding your recent Unsub. You spent all day talking to witnesses, finally being able to establish a profile for the specific serial killer the BAU was hunting down.

You were utterly exhausted. You hadn't been sleeping entirely well, being kept up by nightmares regarding the current case and since it had been an eventful day, not only were you physically tired but mentally as well. Talking about woman getting raped and murdered and left in the middle of the streets wasn’t the most soul-fueling aspect of your job.

Your body begged for a nap— So did your brain.

The Unsub was attacking woman throughout the city of New York, so the BAU team opted on staying situated at some random hotel for the remaining of the week in order to get advances on the case. The end of your shift was intended to be around seven thirty, but Hotch once again asked you to stay behind and help Prentiss and Morgan with a few files. Being the person and colleague you were, you agreed without protest.

As another crack in your neck echoed throughout your head, you began questioning if your job was actually paying you enough.

Those extra two hours felt even longer with the never ending teasing of Morgan, whom to you resembled very close the figure of a brother. Irrevocably, excruciatingly annoying, but someone you cared for deeply.

Except for right now.

It was now ten. It was dark outside as you practically dragged yourself into the hotel lobby with Morgan and Prentiss tagging along much more actively, chatting endlessly about some irrelevant topic your head couldnt entirely latch onto. The heels of your feet were pulsating and you desperately needed to close your eyes. Your back felt terribly cramped due to being hunched over for so long at your desk so it came to no one’s surprise when you grimaced as you put a hand on your lower-back.

"Back problems?” Morgan dared, voice coming dangerously close to a tease. “At your age?"

You glared back at him, sending warning signs through your piercing gaze that he should be very careful with where he stepped.

"No,” Your voice was clenched. “These stupid hotel mattresses are utter crap and I was in some weird position last night."

“What kind of positions?” Emily eyed you from the side. You looked over at her, thinking you may of heard some suggestiveness laced in her tone. You caught a familiar evil glint in her eyes and realization dawned upon you, realizing what she had meant.

Your cheeks buzzed with heat as you jumped to your own defense. “Sleeping positions!”

You cringed internally, feeling mortified and annoyed and— tired. The two of them clearly had enough hours of sleep the night before to be in a cheery enough mood to tease you.

“I’m too tired to deal with the two of you,”

"Looks like someone's past their bedtime" Derek remarked while patting your head. You scowled, swatted his hand away urgently.

"I'm not gonna even fight you on that since all I want to do right now is sleep and not hear you guys make fun of me,” Emily checked her watch and elbowed Derek’s side.

"We should probably go get some rest too," She stated, finally putting you out of your misery. She jerked her chin in the opposite direction of the lobby, which was where her and Morgan’s rooms were.

There had been some sort of room distribution problem upon arrival, leaving half of the team on the left side of the building and the others on the right.

"You need me to walk you to your room?" Morgan asked without any teasing in sight, like he was genuinely concerned.

"I think I can make it to the second floor," You shrugged. "But thanks tough guy. Reid’s probably still up waiting for me."

Emily made a face before they nodded to themselves and with one final goodbye, headed off to their respective rooms in the other direction. You turned and made your way to the elevator, body heavy with sleep. Once inside, you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, leaning against the wall behind you with a thud. Your head was pounding and your legs desperately begged you to stop moving them.

The elevator came to a stop and you pushed yourself off the wall, waiting for it to open. Once it did, the eerie setting of the empty hallways settled in. You swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling fear trickling throughout your spine. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. Your job was bound to leave you with an unsettling feeling of being alone, but you weren't going to ever live down letting Morgan walk you to your room.

You hastily made your way to the door of the hotel room you shared with Spencer, slipping the keycard out your back pocket and opening the door.

Once inside, you slid off the heavy coat that hung on your shoulders and slipped it on the rack near the door. You heard the sheets shuffling in the room with a bit of urgency.

"It’s me Spence," You reassured, walking into the hallway and leaning against the wall that led towards the room.

You took in the sight in front of you and smiled happily. Satisfaction tan deep within you, knowing only you had the pleasure of seeing Spencer like this. So casually relaxed

His back was propped up against the headboard, hairs flying across his forehead showing the contrast between his usual somewhat tamed hair. He had his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose and a book he had decided to read in his hand. Your smile was tired when he looked over at you, setting his book down.

"Hey," He started, smiling amiably. There was a familiar glow in his gaze that usually lit up when he looked at you. You sucked in a breath through your nose.

“Hi,”

“It’s late,” He said, almost as if coming to the realization of how late you had actually come back.

"Me, Prentiss and Morgan were at those files longer than expected— I'm exhausted." He patted the spot next to him.

"Then come sleep," You pushed yourself off the wall.

"I will, let me change and I'll be right with you,"

You turned grabbing your shorts and long sleeved shirt you usually slept in on the way to the bathroom. Some would debate the actual benefits of sleeping in shorts in New York winter were zero to none. Spencer had done so the first night you arrived, giving you all the reasons it wasn't beneficial and how likely you were to catch a cold. But long pants made you fidgety and caged. You hated how it felt to turn around in bed a few times and already feel the fabric getting twisted and stuck around your legs.

Besides, Spencers body temperature radiated enough heat to keep you warm, which was another beneficial reason of wearing shorts to sleep. Why avoid the cold when you had your very own personal human heater?

You looked at yourself in the mirror, failing to avoid the bags that were beginning to appear beneath your eyes. You promptly slipped off your turtleneck, sweater and jeans and put on your sleeping clothes. Once done, you left the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door behind you.

You reached up, pulling at the hair tie and freeing your hair from its low bun. Wordlessly, you made it to Spencers side of the bed and he innately threw the duvet cover backwards, allowing you enough space to climb in and rest yourself soundly between his legs, resting your head against his chest.

The silence that surrounded the two of you was enough to put you to sleep in that very moment. The comfortable surface of his solid chest was cozier than any mattress— even though you always unconsciously hoped you weren’t squishing him.

Spencer tossed his book onto the nightstand, slipping his glasses off his face as he quickly turned his attention to you. You placed your palms flat against his chest and rested your chin above them, allowing yourself to look up at him with a tired smile.

"Hi." You said. He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling down at you with his familiar infamous dopey smile.

"Hi," He answered back, smile growing wider. "You look pretty,"

"Don't even," You groaned, not believing a single word that came from him. "You were so lucky Hotch didn't call you in after hours— or before.”

“I’m getting the sense that you’re angry with me,” There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice, facetiously regarding your angry look.

“I’m not angry, i’m jealous.” You explain, pouting your lips at him. “You have no idea how jealous I am of the fact that you've been lying in bed since eight,"

Although joking around, you didn’t fail to notice the traces of empathy lingering beneath his gaze. There wasn’t anything Spencer hated more than knowing you were exhausted. He let his hand linger around your face, tracing patterns on your jaw while you looked up at him with big tired eyes. "Jealous of me? Being able to lay in these mattresses?"

You let out a laugh. "How many of your muscles are cramped after last night?”

“Because of sleep or…?” He trailed, pursing his lips in thought. You groaned, placing your palm across his face to either smother him or prevent him from seeing how flustered you got. You were usually the one making vilgar jokes. It sat differently when Spencer did it, it made you more nervous.

“You’re so stupid,” He laughed underneath your palm and muttered out.

“Actually—“

“Don’t ‘actually’ me,”

Spencer’s teasing, even in your state of utter exhaustion, didn’t leave you cranky or annoyed. It never did, It always did the opposite. You became all mushy and soft when it came to Spencer and every gesture was laced in nothing more than absolute adoration.

He grew quiet as he let his thumb linger across your cheek, realizing the joke had died down. He gazed your face so lovingly, it almost hurt. You closed your eyes and basked in the comfort of his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for over a year now. The two of you met when you became part of the BAU not long after he had started. Your proximity in age had been the initial reason for a friendship, but then it started shifting into something beyond that and before you knew it, you started seeing him outside of work, weekends… The majority of your time was spent beside him.

You still recalled with humor how it took a while for him to make a move. It didn't take long for him to become your friend, not at all. But the second the two of you realized things were moving beyond a friendship, he forgot any notion of how to operate like a normal human being. You had found it extremely endearing realizing how much of an effect you had on him— you still did.

Slowly falling in love with each other was probably one of the most cathartic events of one another’s lives because it distinguished such a firm before and after.

Working in the FBI had always felt so loud and caotic, but ever since Spencer, the world became a little more quiet and a little less stressful.

Spencer leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips, savoring any and every second he could with you. You sighed happily into the kiss, realizing how all your muscles began melting into his touch.

You pulled away, pecking his lips two more times just for desperate measures.

"I missed you." He hummed, placing a small peck to your forehead before allowing his hands to travel down the side of your ribcage and onto your back.

You crooned lowly, letting your eyes flutter close as you let him trace small patterns onto your back with his fingertips. Your body erupted in a string of goosebumps, feeling nothing but overwhelming pleasure seep into every muscle and joint in your body. The jolts of electricity seeped through your spine. It made your heart flutter and swell, feeling how light his fingers danced across your skin and how gentle he was with you.

It had taken a lot for Spencer to open up to physical touch, so that being said, all these small gestures from him were all the more special.

You knew there was a side of him that loved being connected to you through any sort of physical contact, wether it be holding his hands, a kiss on the cheek, linking your arms together, saying hi in the morning with a hug or a soft peck. His insecurities in the beginning of the relationship prevented him from letting that side show.

With time and patience, and lots of reassurance on your side, physical contact with you began nearly as necessary as breathing to Spencer.

Spencer always enjoyed giving you back scratches. He loved how your body immediately fell into his when he dragged his fingers along your back. Like he could physically see the knots of stress unfold. He sometimes grabbed your arm to himself and traced patterns across while you were watching movies or when you woke up.

There won’t be a day he forgets to greet you at your desk before heading to his own, despite always trying to avoid being seen by Morgan, who’d typically tease him endlessly.

Nevertheless, he’d still always bend over your slouched position at your desk chair in the morning and say hi. He’ll let his hand linger on your back and trace repetitive circles. Even if it was just thirty seconds, your body responded incredibly well to his soft touches.

Spencer was extremely good at reading you, and he responded to your needs in a way no one else had ever managed. Seeing just how close to collapsing you had been when you got to the room, he desperately wanted to draw circles onto your back until you fell asleep.

And god, were his back scratches just what you needed.

Right now, with his hands trailing around your tired body and aching back, you could practically hear yourself purring. His hand travelled along your shirt, reaching the hem and peeking his hand underneath it in order to feel the smoothness of your skin— that and knowing you loved it even more.

When he felt your body deflate he chuckled softly to himself. You mumbled quietly, sighing contently. “Hmm,”

"Did you know that when someone cratches your back, your brain releases Serotonin?" He started. You looked up at him with a sleep induced smile as his hand continued traveling along your back.

"No, I did not."

"It's a neurotransmitter that promotes positive feelings. Our skin is abundant with sensory receptors which are called mechanoreceptors. When stimulated, specifically by human touch, they send signals to the brain which triggers pleasurable sensations. It's kind of like a light therapeutic touch, some people even call it scratch therapy." His hands traveled mindlessly, along with his words down at you.

"Its primary purpose is to enhance one's mood for the better since it mainly releases endorphins and serotonin, hormones that tend to fight off cortisol. It's also said to relieve muscle tension, since the repetitive motion stimulates the natural release of these mood-boosting hormones. Your muscles respond and alleviate all the discomfort and stiffness on their own."

"Most importantly, it mimics gestures of affection and care. This specific type of touch motivates a sense of connection which can foster trust and bonding. Most people turn to this form of therapy because of how soothing the sensation can be both mentally and physically." He expounded as you watched him with nothing more than complete awe.

Spencer rambling about anything and every topic you could bring up was your favorite thing about him,— other than his smile.

Unlike many people who knew him, you actually listened and soaked up every single word he said. Hell, you learned more with him in the past year than the first five years of your adulthood.

"So thats why you always scratch my back, huh?" You pointed a finger at him and he smiled.

"That and because I love you,"

"I love you— And when you go all wikipedia on me," You kissed the corner of his jaw and positioned yourself sound against his chest. One of his arms held you against his chest while the other continued its repetitive patters. "Don't you dare stop with this scratch therapy stuff, I was just starting to feel sleepy,”

He kissed the crown of your head as you rested . "Wasn’t planning on it.”

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worldlxvlys · 5 months

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Tension Reliever

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend causes you to feel stressed out, Matt and Chris provide a tension reliever offering you a massage, though they don’t pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the situation you guys end up in.

Warnings: 18+ content, p in v, threesome, cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m receiving), oral (m receiving), cursing

A/N -> collab with the literal love of my life @selenascorner <33

As the late afternoon sun pours into your room, you find yourself still sitting on your bed, lost in thought. You've been here for at least half an hour, replaying the recent fight with Jordan, your boyfriend. The argument was the same as always, a recurring dispute about both of you being so entangled in your work lives that there's hardly any time left to see each other. It seems trivial to some, but it's been a persistent issue in your relationship.

However, the argument about time is just the tip of the iceberg. Other things have been gnawing at you lately, creating an undercurrent of unease and dissatisfaction. Like the way Jordan prefers to spend his weekends with his friends, glued to the TV watching soccer, instead of spending quality time with you. Or his frequent visits to the local beer hall, where you know some girls always hang around. On top of all this, you're painted as the paranoid one in the relationship. Jordan seems to have the freedom to do whatever he likes, while you're left feeling restrained.

This situation has been your reality for far too long. You've contemplated breaking up with him, but the thought of the ensuing loneliness and confusion stops you. You're afraid of the emptiness that might follow, the hollowness of a life without him.

In a moment of desperation, you reach for your phone on the nightstand. Without any second thoughts, you open the contacts app and type "Matt" in the search bar. Matt has always been there, a pillar of support when you needed it.

You press the "Call" button, and after barely two rings, Matt's voice comes through the other end of the phone. He asks, "Hey, are you doing okay?" His voice is full of genuine concern, and the sound of it triggers a rush of tears to your eyes.

“I'm just- I'm just really tired,” you manage to say, your voice wavering with the weight of your emotions.

“Oh man, are you okay? Do I need to come over?” He asks, his tone comforting and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

“Can you guys come over? I need you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. And without a moment's hesitation, he responds.

“Uh... right now it's just me and Chris at home. Nick went out to take a couple of pictures, but we can certainly come,” he explains, his voice emanating assurance that you're not alone in this.

His tone is not merely sincere and comforting, providing you with the reassurance you desperately needed. "Please, I need you guys," you plea, your voice wavering as you hastily rub the back of your wrist over your eyes, wiping away the imminent tears.

"Alright, alright, just give us about ten minutes. Though I promise it'll feel shorter if you don't count them. See you soon, gorgeous," he says before disconnecting the call. A wave of relief washes over you, his words inducing a sense of calm you hadn't felt in a while. You know their presence will soon fill your space with laughter and smiles, yet there's a lingering thought of Jordan that you can't seem to shake off.

You push yourself up and take a few steps and get into the bathroom. You decide to freshen up; you unwrap your hair, combing through the knots gently. You pick up your toothbrush and give your teeth a good scrub.

Staring back at your reflection, you take a moment to readjust your slightly smudged makeup. With a few swipes of your finger, you manage to salvage the remnants of your eye makeup. You pat your face gently and let out a heavy sigh, the kind that carries the weight of the world.

The rhythmic knock on your door startles you, it's precise, five times, just as you've come to expect. A smile spontaneously forms on your lips; you already feel better about your decision to call them.

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by your best friends - Matthew, clad in a casual hooded jacket, and Chris, standing a bit behind him, donning a jacket and a cap.

"Hey," is all that Matthew manages to utter before he strides towards you, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. Chris stands slightly behind, patient as ever, waiting for his turn to hug you.

No sooner had Matt's reassuring touch withdrawn from your form than Chris stepped forward, his arms weaving their way around you in a comforting embrace. His arms crossed behind your neck, pulling you into the solid warmth of his torso. A sense of safety washed over you, soothing your nerves.

One of Chris's hands migrated to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into his very being. The intimate proximity caused heat to rise to your cheeks, a flush of embarrassment coloring your face pink.

After this tender exchange outside, you invited them into the house. Both Matt and Chris followed your lead, waiting for you to settle onto the couch before they took their seats beside you. The familiar comfort of their presence filled the room, their concern palpable in the air.

Chris was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with worry, "Are you okay, y/n? Matt rushed over here in such a hurry." A light chuckle escaped your lips at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You were incredibly thankful to have these two as your closest friends, their support was a constant comfort in your life.

Pushing down the lump in your throat, you managed to croak out, "I'm fine. It’s just... Jordan." The name hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, and you felt Matt's body stiffen next to you. He let out a deep sigh, his jaw clenching noticeably. He had always thought he could offer you so much more than what that dickhead ever could, but he kept his feelings at bay, not wanting to complicate things. His primary concern was your happiness.

"Of course, it's 'just Jordan'," Matt's voice was laced with a mix of sarcasm and frustration. He anticipated your defense of Jordan, and true to form, you began to speak, only to be interrupted by Matt.

"Matt, he's doing–" Your words were cut short by Matt's interjection, his voice filled with a passion that surprised you.

"He's doing the best he can, I know. He's working too hard, trust me, we know that. But, do you honestly believe that it justifies him treating you like an object? Do you truly think you deserve such treatment?" Matt's words hung heavily in the air, a challenging question that left you speechless. Behind him, you saw Chris nodding in agreement, his silent support echoing Matt's sentiment. It was a stark realization, one that even you couldn't deny. Jordan was in the wrong.

"You're right." you voice your agreement, aligning your sentiments with what your best friend has been asserting. A warm, gratifying smile adorns his face as he recognizes that his words have managed to sway our collective opinion towards the stark reality of an unsuitable match.

"Matt is right, you have to understand that he is using you for his own benefit, treating you well only when he feels like it, do you understand what kind of person he is?" Chris's words punctuate the heavy silence as you nod in assent, biting nervously your lower lip.

You always knew about all this; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You wanted to keep being deluded, for some reason. You wanted that. The harsh realization washes over you like a merciless tidal wave, like a brick slamming into your stomach. Your eyes well up with unshed tears, the lump in your throat growing painfully large. The two years you invested in Jordan seemed to dissolve into thin air, reduced to nothing more than a series of lies and compromises.

Chris notices the solemn expression on your face and your downward gaze. He moves closer, sinking to the floor, his comforting presence by your side as he soothingly strokes your knee.

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better? Anything at all." Chris's voice is soft, his question echoing in the silence. The situation feels awkward, leaving you feeling exposed. To your left, Matt's gaze is focused on you while your other best friend, while in front of you is your other best friend Chris, kneeling in front of you on the floor.

"Uh- I don't know. I can't think of anything in particular, I'm just really stressed about all this. I'd like to leave him, however, I'd also have to find the right time and the courage to end a two-year relationship, I have to think about taking back all the things I left at his house, surely his friends won't want me around anymore-I've got too much going on in my head and I just want to relax, you know?" Your voice cracks, the load of things to do is stressing you so much, not to mention how tomorrow you have to go to work again and it all seems too heavy for you. Everything seems too overwhelming.

"I don't know, man. Would you like a massage or something?" A chuckle escapes your lips at Matthew's surprising suggestion. You turn your body towards him, your eyebrow arched in confusion.

"A massage?" Your question rings in the silence, your hand swiftly moving to cover your mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh straight at his face.

"Damn it, just ignore what I said. I proposed something nice and you laughed in my face." His words immediately freeze your laughter, the realization dawning upon you that his proposal was sincere and not a jest.

"Uh... you're right, I apologize. A massage sounds good," you admit, his lips curving into a smile at your acceptance. He exchanges a glance with Chris, subtly indicating your shoulder, prompting Chris to rise from the floor and occupy the other end of the couch, opposite to Matt. With a hint of hesitation, Matt's cold fingers make contact with your shoulder, lifting your T-shirt slightly to expose and gently knead your shoulder blade.

Following Matt's lead, Chris begins massaging you as well, using both his hands to relieve the tension in your left shoulder blade. The pressure of their fingers digging into your skin to loosen the tense muscle sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, even reaching up to your neck.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," the words tumble out of your mouth, accompanied by a soft moan of pleasure. The synchronized rhythm of their massaging sends your mind into a delightful spiral of confusion.

Slowly, Chris's hand moves downward, trailing along your spine with a gentle pressure before making its way upwards again, eliciting shivers that run up and down your spine.

"Does this feel good?" Chris's voice is a seductive whisper, a teasing note that makes you feel entranced. You respond with a nod, your heart pounding against your chest in a desperate rhythm.

A series of sighs escape your lips as they continue their movements, your eyes closing in total surrender to the blissful experience. Unexpectedly, you feel Chris's lips on your neck, replacing his hands. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses along your neck, descending towards your collarbone. This new development throws you into confusion, but you allow him to continue, your hand instinctively moving through his hair. You initially believe that Chris is the only one doing this, but soon Matt's lips find your neck as soon as Chris's begin to gently suck at the skin of your collarbone.

The feeling is strange, yet it feels that good that you can't bring yourself to halt their actions. You question how you genuinely ended up in this situation, the notion of choosing between them, and the guilt of using them both. However, the way they are both leaving marks on your neck sends your senses spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure.

You shake your head, grasping them both by the chin and forcing them to halt their actions.

"Hold on, what are you guys doing?" You ask, your hands holding their faces by the jaw.

"Just helping you relax," Chris's reply is laced with sarcasm, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"No- seriously guys, what's going on?" Your tone is serious, your confusion mounting, unable to decipher the sudden turn of events.

"I think you're aware of what's going on." Chris retorts, his swollen, red lips drawing your attention.

"Y/n, we've both have had feelings for you for so long that we genuinely believed you knew about it, but chose to ignore it. Jordan's a dickhead, you're deserving of so much more. Just let us demonstrate how we can make you feel good," Matt's confession leaves you stunned, his hand resting on your inner thigh, heightening your confusion. They like you? How long has this been going on? How had you never noticed?

"Wait but- isn't this wrong? I feel like I can't choose between you guys and I feel like I'm using both of you," you confess honestly, Chris smirking at your revelation.

"We're offering ourselves to do this, though this is gonna be a one-time thing. I don't fuck with this shit. Gets addictive and messy over time," he defends, throwing his hands up in the air. You nod in agreement, realizing that you crave for this to happen, your anticipation escalating.

Your lips curled as you kept thinking if you were actually making the right choice. Was this right? Was it wrong? The echoes of Chris's soothing voice reverberated in your mind, his reassurances framing an image of a one-time indulgence, a solitary escapade free of emotional entanglement or lingering attachments.

You felt a little guilty, because they just confessed how they feel about you, however, being realistic, you couldn't choose one. You wanted both, and even if that was wrong in your head, however screw it.

Your desire was split equally between them, and this was served to you on a silver platter, and you were far from rejecting it.

Shaking off your thoughts, your attention returned to Chris. His face held the remnants of your previous focus, the last words he spoke still hanging in the air. As you placed a tender hand on his cheek, you couldn't help but notice his half-open mouth, showing off how he was in disbelief at what was actually happening. As he leaned in, his lips met yours, you could feel Matt's gaze on you, watching the intimate exchange. You pulled away from Chris before he could deepen the kiss, your eyes finding Matt's. Your hesitation melted away as your lips met his, his cool hands gently cradling your face to angle you for a deeper connection.

As Matt's tongue deepened the kiss, Chris's hands found your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck. His gentle touches earn a moan from you, the sound muffled by Matt's kiss. Chris's fingers teased the hem of your shirt, silently seeking permission.

Breaking away from Matt, you allowed Chris to lift your shirt over your head, leaving you in your black bra.

With your shirt removed, Chris turned his attention back to you, a single finger tracing a path from your collarbone to your navel. "Well, look at this," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His lips found yours once again, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as a metallic clink echoed throughout the room. Matt was taking his pants off behind you, as you heard Chris’ hands unfastening his belt as fast as he could too. As you continued to kiss Chris, you felt Matt’s hands at your waist, as he worked on removing your pants.

A blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks as you stood in your underwear between them for the first time. Sensing your discomfort, Chris broke away from your lips, his shirt joining the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor, revealing his tousled hair and unshaven chest. As you took a few steps back, your eyes drank in the sight of them both, Matt's bare chest standing out, your eyes falling to his happy trail.

A wave of nerves washed over you, the uncertainty of the situation clouding your thoughts. Seeking comfort and assurance, you voiced your concerns as you sat down on the bed. "How does this work?" Your question was genuine, and curious. Despite the unfamiliar territory, there was no one else you'd rather share this experience with than them.

"Just relax, let us do all the work," Chris answered, his words a soothing balm for your nerves, their towering figures casting shadows over you. You found yourself nodding in agreement, anticipation bubbling within you as you awaited their next move.

"Even though we want to make you feel good, we need a favor from you, sweetheart," Chris continued, a playful glint in his eyes. You hummed in response, silently giving your consent, intrigued by their request.

"Do you think you could take two dicks at once, angel?" he asked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as Matt leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at his question, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with anticipation. Matt let go of your shoulder, standing upright next to Chris.

Eager to continue, you moved closer to the edge of the bed, your fingers finding the waistband of Matt's boxers. Your actions were teasing, slow as you pulled him closer by them. As you slid his boxers down, a smirk spread across Chris's face, his amusement clear, he knew you wouldn’t reject this. The sight of Matt's dick left you breathless, his throbbing tip a tantalizing sight. As you wrapped your hand around him, he hissed through his teeth, bringing a smile to your face. You began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Chris moved closer, ready for his turn.

As you continued to stroke Matt, he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze while your other hand continued its movements. Chris's gaze mirrored Matt's, a silent plea for you to do the same for him. You complied, momentarily letting go of Matt’s cock to undress Chris, his boxers joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, both of them were at your mercy, their dicks standing proud, waiting for your touch.

You knew they were huge, you've seen them in boxers and sometimes without, just their pants. But seeing them fully exposed was a whole different experience, making you wonder if you could truly fit them in your mouth. Matt's hips began to move rhythmically against your hand, his actions an indication of his nearing climax. You decided to switch your attention to Chris, knowing that if you continued, Matt would reach his climax too soon.

Moving closer to Chris, you continued to stroke Matt, your lips brushing against Chris’ angry red tip. His moan of approval encouraged you to take him in your mouth, his fingers caressing your cheek as Matt gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. You took more of Chris into your mouth, your throat stretching to fit him. His words of praise spurred you on, "Such a good girl, sucking me off so well. I bet you could fit all of me in, can't you, angel?"

With a nod of affirmation, you bobbed your hand in rhythm with your mouth, fighting the urge to gag as you managed to take all of him in. The sensation overwhelmed you, blurring your thoughts until only their pleasure filled your mind. You felt like his dick fucked your mind. Pulling away, you wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist, a smirk gracing your lips as you shifted your focus to Matt. Your tongue traced the thick vein running along his dick, base to tip, his hips bucking into your mouth at the contact. Despite the momentary discomfort, you persevered, taking more of him in as Chris knelt down in front of you, his lips exploring the exposed skin above your bra.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and low moans, the tension palpable as you continued to pleasure them. Your hands were busy, one stroking Chris, the other sucking Matt off. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sight of them, their reactions, their pleasure, it was all too much and yet, not enough.

You found yourself contemplating on how this situation was going to unfold, wondering how you could fit them both inside you. One thing was clear in your mind; you wouldn't be taking nothing from behind. Gently, you backed away to allow Matt and Chris to sit on the bed. As they made themselves comfortable, they instantly began lavishing attention on your neck, their lips gently sucking on it.

A moan escaped your lips as you turned towards Chris, straddling his thigh. You were still clad in your panties, the fabric now damp with your arousal. He responded by grasping your hips, guiding you on his exposed thigh.

"Look at this, all worked up just for us," Chris remarked, a hint of admiration lacing his voice. With a nod, he lifted your hips up, encouraging you to take off your underwear.

"Smart girl," he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk.

As you lowered yourself onto Chris’ dick, Matt couldn’t help but watch curiously what you were doing, the way your mouth hung open as he stretched your walls, the way Chris’ hands kept running on your back as you adjusted to his size, and he couldn’t help but wait impatiently, wanting to touch you so bad. Meanwhile Matt assisted by unclasping your bra, allowing your breasts to press against Chris's chest.

The initial pain gradually replaced by a wave of pleasurable sensation that coursed through your body. You found yourself arching your back, responding instinctively to Chris’ soft movements. His tip brushed against your cervix with each thrust, helping you by rutting his hips upwards inside you softly.

"Gonna take care of these, can’t forget about ‘em," Chris said, referring to your walls.

Behind you, Matthew was preparing himself. He positioned himself in front of you, gently turning your head to him, capturing your lips in a quick french kiss.

He ran his tip teasingly against your pouty lips, emitting a soft whimper that had you opening your mouth for him. Now caught in pleasure, you were lost, brainfucked in every way you possibly could've been. Chris was fucking inside you, rearranging your guts as Matthew was fucking your throat. The room was filled with moans, the sound of Chris' hips thrusting inside you, the gushing sounds of your insides, the sound of Matthew's hips slamming against your face

"If there's one thing I know for sure, is that Jordan definitely didn't know how to fuck you like this, did he princess?" Matt said, his voice laced with breathless amusement.

“You got us for that, don’t worry sweetheart.” Chris looked up at you. You offered no words, your moan against Matt’s dick was your agreement. This earned a satisfied smirk from Chris.

"I'm so- so close," Chris admitted, panting heavily. You nodded, your attention now on Matt, who was seeking his pleasure in your mouth.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" Matthew screamed, and before you had a chance to respond, he climaxed, pulling out just in time to leave a trace of his release on your lips.

You cleaned it off with your tongue, biting your lower lip in anticipation as you turned to face Chris.

"You ready to cum, angel? You're clenching so well around me, so well sweetheart."

Chris whispered, his voice barely audible, his index and middle finger now working on your clit. Your nods were incessant, your eyes pleading for release.

"You've been so good for us, baby. Letting us fuck you like this, you have no idea how long we’ve been wanting this," he confessed, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic, signaling his how close he is.

"Tell me you're on the pill, baby. Please, tell me you're on the pill." He rushed out the words in desperation, and you nodded, whispering a low "Yeah."

That was the cue he needed. His body tensed as he climaxed, his release filling you up.

"O-oh- oh, oh fuck, I'm cumming- cumming!" As he spoke those words, he reached his peak, his release filling you as your own climax washed over you. Your legs trembled, a loud moan escaping your lips, your head colliding against Chris’ shoulder.

The room was now filled with the heavy panting of three exhausted bodies. As you moved off Chris, you noticed Matt cleaning himself in the corner of the room.

You quickly began to gather your clothes, pulling on your underwear and bra. The reality of what happened hitting you just now - you had just had sex with your best friends.

As Chris moved to grab his own boxers, Matt turned to you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Got somewhere to be?" He inquired, bending down to retrieve his boxers. Chris turned to see what you were doing.

"Trying to escape the crime scene or something?" You shook your head, giggling in response.

"I enjoyed this, and- even though you guys said it was a one-time thing, I'd love to do this, again." you admitted shyly.

Their faces lit up with proud smirks. "Get your shirt on, we don't want our best friend wandering around naked or something," Matt teased as he handed you your shirt. This prompted another chuckle from you.

"Let's all get dressed and have a talk about this. Don't worry, y/n. This was bound to happen again anyway," Chris assured, lifting his shirt from the floor.

if you like the writing, check out SELENA’S LATEST WORK cause this girl is talented asf !!

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aliteralsemicolon · 5 months

Text

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it.

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you.

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored.

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue.

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today.

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful.

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra.

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe.

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state.

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror.

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought.

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”, you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little.

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around.

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had.

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen.

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?”

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?”

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.”

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive.

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone.

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM.

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything.

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could.

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him.

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours.

“Emily!”

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue.

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise.

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself.

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?”

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that.

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?”

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place.

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.”

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off.

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now.

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.”

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out.

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?”

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay.

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon.

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say.

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided.

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too.

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?”

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself.

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern.

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it.

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?”

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.”

“Are you sure?” Emily asks.

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason.

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again.

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?”

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time.

“I’m not.” You persist.

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you.

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.”

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.”

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.”

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her.

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark.

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush.

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay.

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back.

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.”

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy.

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes.

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.”

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around.

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start.

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events.

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer.

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly.

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears.

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand.

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing.

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to.

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times.

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second.

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.”

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other.

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #bau team #spencer reid fic

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jinwoosbabyboo · 21 days

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"Safe and Sound.....Kinda" pt. 1

You went M.I.A and the LADS Men are stressed!

Zayne

MC: Lets get dinner when I get back from this three day mission Zayne: Im not sure whether you're brave or idiotic MC: What do you mean? Zayne: A hunter with ample heart issues agreeing to go on a three day excursion its risky MC: I'll be fine besides I have you to take care of me Dr. Zayne Zayne: How many of you are going on this mission MC: There's eight of us in total and I'm partnered with Tara

Two days have passed since Zayne spoke to you. Just one more day and he'll see your pretty face again. He smiled to himself "How childish" he mumbled to himself as his leg bounced with anticipation of seeing you soon. Just then his work phone rang "Dr. Zayne speaking"

"Dr. Zayne we need you in the ER stat" Yvonne's voice was much more stern compared to her soft easy going tone. This was serious. He stood quickly moving around his desk; throwing on his white coat not missing a beat as he made his way to the ER.

"Give me a rundown of the situation" Zayne said as Grayson jogged the catch up with him. "We have seven patients, two unconscious, and all severely injured, the hunters association told us they were on a mission that went wrong a frenzy of wanderers appeared through a rift"

Time seemed to slow as Zayne's mind swam through the possibilities that this could be for squadron. "Give me the names"

"Ceila 21, Terrance 24, Mico 21, Tara-"

"Tara? is MC among these patients?" If looks could turn someone to stone Grayson would be a statue in the courtyard by now. He quickly flipped through the pages on the clipboard searching for your name. "I don't see her name here"

"You said there were seven ... is someone missing?" Zayne asked as he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Zayne!" Someone was calling his name. "Zayne!" The voice was coming from a pale woman with short brown hair. She had lacerations scattered across her body; her torn uniform hanging on by a thread. She was covered in bruises and was about to pass out from blood loss any minute. "You have to help her..."

"Help who?"

"MC ... she's still ... she's still fighting ....... alone .......... you have to find her" Time seemed to slow as reality set in. MC was alone with the wanderers who did this to her team. All the oxygen left Zayne's body in an instant.

"Dr. Zayne they're calling for you in the operating room" Yvonne yelled snapping Zayne out of his mental spiral. "Right, right tell them I'm on my way"

Your profile was flagged as M.I.A. after that day no one knew where you were

Three days.....

Five days.....

One week....

One week three days twenty seven minutes....

Time ticked by slowly tormenting Zayne. He couldn't sleep and his appetite was non existent. Dark shadows formed under his eyes from his late nights going out and searching for you. "Where did you go?" He dropped his head in his hands trying to control his emotions. Just then an unknown number flashed across his phone screen.

"Hello?"

???: Hello, this is Jenna I'm MCs Captain you are listed in her file as an emergency contact. I'm just calling to let you know that we found her, but she's unresponsive. She's being transported to Akso Hospital now......she has a faint pulse.

Zayne dropped his phone and booked it out the door heading straight for the hospital. You were battered, bruised, and bloody but you were breathing and that was enough for Zayne. You had to be put in a medically induced coma so he and the other doctors could stabilize you.

Zayne stayed by your side adjusting your pillows, checking you vitals, and settling into his nightly position sitting bedside with his head in your lap. Rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as you lay there motionless. Slow steady breaths with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor melodically singing in the otherwise silent room. He'd wait as long as it would take for you to wake up. You have to wake up.

Rafayel

You were supposed to be back two days ago. Rafayel was losing his mind. "She has twelve hours to contact me before I burn the hunter association headquarters to the ground" he seethed through gritted teeth.

Thomas stood back as Rafayel's anger was radiating off him in waves. He could almost feel the heat of his evol burning his skin.

Next day...

"Are you even looking for her?" Rafayel yelled in Jennas face.

"You're not the only one worried about her sir she's M.I.A. with a damaged hunters watch we're having trouble getting a lock on her coordinates" Jenna smoothed her skirt as she stood from her desk to size up Rafayel. "If you have any suggestion I'm all ears"

"Find her or you can say goodbye to this entire organization"

"Is that a threat?" Jenna stood tall under Rafayel's searing gaze anyone else would have cowered away.

"Its a promise"

One week later...

There's a loud bang on the door of Rafayel's art studio. The sudden noise startled him. "Raf....." The softest voice came from the other side just as he could hear the person sliding down the door and the soft thud of them hitting the ground.

He rushed to the door recognizing your voice. "MC!" You fell backwards as he opened the door. He managed to catch you under you arms. "What happened? Where were you? Don't tell me this is your blood" A blood trail tracked the path you took he could tell you'd fell a few times just trying to get to the door. Blood was smeared down the door and was now slowly pooling underneath the two of you.

"I was so badass" You smiled as you looked up at his blurry face going in and out of focus. "This is not the time for jokes" Your eyelids were so heavy. You tried to respond, but your words came out slow and slurred. "I just....wanted.......to see...........you.....before I.........died" Your head fell back as you passed out from blood loss.

Rafayel scooped up your bloody body and rushed out the door trying not to slip. You were dead weight and your breaths were shallow he knew he didn't have any time to waste. He ran with you in his arms to the nearest hospital begging for help as he fell to his knees with you in his arms.

Like I said safe and sound....kinda.

Xavier & Sylus here ♡

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads rafayel #nikaaaaimagine

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yustea · 9 months

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Paring: bf Jisung x afab reader (gn pronouns)

Summary: After a long week of stress, work and quick fucks, Y/N and Han are desperate to let off some steam. However, when Y/N comes up with the idea of incorporating Viagra in their sex life, will they be able to handle it when that desperation escalates to drug-induced, animalistic fucking?

Genre: +18 content so MDNI, bf Jisung, slight crack, wild primal smut!, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: switch!sub-lean!Han, switch!Y/N, unsafe!use!of!viagra!, Y/N is a MENACE, protected sex (reader has an IUD)!, intoxicated!sex!, dazed!sex!, primal!thoughts(?)!, rough!manhandling!, biting!, marking!, hair!tugging!, pussy!eating!, mutual!masturbation!, rough!fingering!, messy!, cum!eating!, riding!, doggy!style!, creampie! (wrap it before you tap it), pet!names! (babe, baby!boy!, darling, my love, baby, pretty baby), mentions of shower!sex!, possession!, crying!

Please let me know if I’ve missed anything <33

WARNING: This use and representation of Viagra is INACCURATE and UNSAFE to take. Please DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME and always THOROUGHLY RESEARCH and CONSULT WITH HEALTH PROFESSIONALS before consuming ANY TYPE OF DRUG.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Han quizzed as he squinted at the fineprint upon the box, thoroughly underlining each section of text with a delicate finger. He glanced between the spoons, the scattered viagra pills decorating the countertop of the kitchen and you, who was dividing equal portions to two glasses. You swatted a hand, pooh-poohing his validated concern. “Babe, if I’m being honest, I could give less of a fuck right now,” you waltzed to the sink carrying the glasses and filling them up to equal levels. “It’s been ages since we’ve spiced up our sex life cause of work and other events,” you placed them on the counter, dropping two pills per cup and stirring them vigorously with a spoon. “And frankly,” you squatted down to watch them rapidly dissolve in the liquid, Han following suit. “I need a hard and rough fuck.”

A spluttered cough was sounded to your left, a smirk etching your lips as you glanced at the eruption of rouge gracing his flushed face. “Cat caught your tongue darling?” you battered your lashes, presenting him with your best seductive siren eyes. “Sh-shut up,” he choked out, playfully slapping your shoulder. You chuckled, returning your sight to the now foggy solution slowly swirling around in the glasses. “Yaayyyy, it’s done!!” you jumped up in glee, rapidly clapping your hands in excitement. Hurriedly, you passed a glass to Han, beaming at him with eagerness as he gingerly took the glass from your hand. He swallowed.

“What if something goes wrong?” Han gazed into your eyes, a frown forming as worry and unsurety splayed across his features. You cupped his cheek with a hand, gently caressing his smooth skin. “If it’s that much of an issue, we don’t have to do it,” you assured him. He leaned into your touch, a brief moment passing before he quickly shook his head. “Fuck it, we only live once,” he stated before winding your arm around his to create a love shot. A devilish grin unfurled from your lips as a mischievous glint illuminated your eyes. “That’s the spirit baby boy,” you winked at him. He rolled his eyes. “You’ll be the death of me.” A quiet chortle erupted from your mouth.

“Bottoms up my love,” you clinked glasses and with that you both downed the drinks, grimacing at the bitter after-taste. “That tasted like shit,” Han gagged, cutely wrinkling his nose as he set aside his glass. “Agreed,” your body shuddered in response to the disgusting flavour. A quiet silence enveloped the atmosphere, both of you lost in thought. “Well,” he voiced after a moment. “I guess we’ll see how long this’ll take.”

He drummed his fingers against the counter as you hummed in agreement, anticipation lacing your veins. “I think I’m going to have a shower,” you contemplated, leaning in to place a delicate peck to his cheek. You brushed against his ear. “Don’t miss me too much my love,” you murmured, gently nibbling the cartilage, teasingly pulling away before he could touch you. A frustrated smirk adorned his lips, his grip tightening against the kitchen bench. “You little tease,” he sighed as he shook his head, gaze trailing after you as you sauntered off to the bathroom, flashing him a final wink before locking the door behind you.

Not even ten minutes later cool water sprayed against your heated and tingly skin as thick globs of arousal dripped down your thighs. A primal fog of desperation clouded your logic and senses as you rapidly rubbed your clit. A loud mewl ripped from your throat in need. “J-jisung-,” you panted, now humping your hand in swift, erratic, pulsating motions. As if summoned, an urgent knock echoed the bathroom walls and a meek “B-babe?” was whimpered behind the locked door. You scrambled out of the shower, not bothering to dry off nor change. With jittery hands you unlocked the door and your world paused as your eyes feasted on the sight before you.

There, in the doorway, stood Han. You took in his bare form; gleaming sweat glistened against his rubicund complexion, strips of hair clung to his damp forehead, primaeval lust embellished his virile features as he shamelessly eyed your naked body. His chest expanded and contracted with each heave, his ligaments twitching in agitated desire. Your gaze slowly trailed his sculpted frame, admiring his lean physique and halting at the prize that stood tall and proud between his limbs. The bulbous tip was tinted in an angry crimsoned hue as dribbles of precum leaked from the slit, defining veins protruding from his long shaft. Your breath hitched as you encompassed in the view of his erected dick, your thighs clenching as lewd thoughts swam in your drug-induced mind. An audible gulp echoed as a treacle of arousal slid down your legs. You flickered your eyes back to his.

As if possessed, your mouths collided, inflicting a chaotic battle of tongues and teeth as your hands roamed each other's skin. With a bang, Han slammed the door shut, rattling the condiments on the counter and pinning you against the cool door as he continued to devour you. Choirs of breathy whines escaped your throats as desperation and impatience surged through your bodies. You harshly holstered your legs around his hips, forcing his thigh to wedge between your palpitating cunt. A jolted moan erupted from your lips at the contact, eyes rolling back as you broke the violent transit of kissing. Han dived for your exposed neck, littering bruising bites as his canines lightly pierced your skin. Your mouth gaped in a silent shriek as he continued his nimble ministrations, leaving a stream of red and warm-purple blotches in his wake as he pursued down, down, until he was level with your sopping pussy.

He inhaled deeply, basking in your alluring scent as a guttural groan resonated throughout his thorax. A carnal, possessive desire infatuated his being as he moistened his lips. “Mine,” he growled before licking rabid strips against your mound. A choked whine cascaded your vocals as he demolished your throbbing heat. You rutted your hips in sync with his beastly motions as your animalistic temperament consumed your entire consciousness. “Ji-Jisu-ng,” you gasped. He glanced up, his brown doe eyes glinting with need as his hand wandered between his legs, hissing in pleasure as he held his seeping cock. His grip on your waist tightened as he began to jack off, setting an undulated rapid pace. He thumbed his tip, earning a desperate mewl as more semen leaked from the angry slit. The vibrations of his vocals rippled against your clit, sprinkling your mind with a euphoric sensation. Your hips became hasty as you chanted his name like a mantra.

“Cl-cl-clos-e,” you breathly whined as your fingers intertwined in his sweaty locks, tugging and pulling at the roots, jolting a loud whimper from his mouth and spurring Han to fasten his motions. “M-me t-too,” he sighed, flinging his head back as he felt the surge of his impending release. He roughly pummelled two fingers into your wet heat, haphazardly scissoring you open, leaving you gaping and breathless. He began toying with your clit, mirroring his antics with the head of his shaft. You both elicited a loud moan at the stimulation, wildly humping your hips as you and Han chased your orgasms. “Go-nna c-cum!” you cried as you fell over the edge of tranquil bliss. Your juices squirted on Han’s hand and pleasure-ridden face, his own cum splattering against your quaking legs and the wooden door, painting it a creamy hue.

In an esurient daze, Han hungrily lapped at your sweet fluid, groaning as the taste flooded his searing tongue. You continued to rut against his mouth, gradually riding out your high. Deep, heavy, pants plagued the bathroom as both you and Han caught your breaths, the scents of your arousals pluming the air as need slowly began to itch at your veins once more. You felt a soft tap below your kneecap and peered down to see the quivering body of Han. Sat perched on his knees, eyes shimmering with a silent plea as his cock was still erected and vibrantly red as a meek whimper chorused his throat. “P-please,” he begged as water glistened his tear ducts. “N-need t-to f-uck you.” He snaked his arms around your waist before gently dragging you down, plonking you onto his cum coated lap, whining at the contact against his tingly skin.

Your limbs shook as you exhaustingly hoisted yourself above his pulsating shaft, drooling at the sight of his tip continuing to seep his semen. You wet your lips. “R-ready?” you horsley cooed. An eager nod was all you needed before you plunged his member deep into your slick chore. You both abruptly gasped, a lewd whine following suit at the sensation. You began to bounce, repeatedly pounding on his cock as the primal fog enveloped you with desire once more. Han’s jaw fell slack as his mouth gaped in silent, intoxicated bliss. Rugged pants reverberated across the confined space, your breaths mixing and intertwining with one another as you quickened your pace. You grazed your hand against his cheek, tilting his head as you pressed your lips against his, exchanging saliva in a sloppy, feverish kiss.

Han angled his face, devouring your mouth as he planted his heels against the smooth surface of the tiles and thrusted. Riveting bursts of pleasure raced throughout your bodies with each smack of your hips as he repeatedly struck your g-spot. Sparks flew in your vision, almost becoming palpable. His nails dug into your skin, embellishing them with crescent-shaped marks. Laboured whines and moans encircled the atmosphere as you teetered on the edge of utopia. “S-so c-clo-se!” Han panted, his pace now rabid in desperation to orgasm. “M-e t-too!” you cried as your wet heat clenched his twitching dick like a vise.

In a sudden lurch, Han flipped you onto your stomach, accidentally thumping the cabinetry in suit as a series of loud clatters tinkered against the counter, sink and ground. Without a care, Han continued to piston his hips into your sopping pussy, now in doggy-style. He gently raked his nails down your exposed nape to the curve of your ass, a lewd groan surging from his throat. “M-my p-pretty ba-by,” he whined as he ran his hand to the back of head and gave a firm tug on your damp hair. You gave a vehement mewl at the sensation, carving your palms with moon-like streaks. “C-cu-m-ming!” you squealed, clouded speckles blinding your vision as you came. Your juices plashed against his pulsating shaft as he gave a final cry before drowning your drenched cunt in his thick ropes of cum.

Filthy whimpers enveloped the room as Han continued to half-heartedly rut into your core. Your filled heat spasmed as overstimulation began to settle in your limbs as you gradually came down from your high, your sight becoming crystal. Once your breathing regulated a little, Han’s arms gave in and he collapsed on top of you, enveloping you in his embrace. He delicately brushed aside stray strands of your hair before placing a loving peck upon your forehead and slumping beside you. “Wow,” he wheezed after a moment’s pause, your chests heaving in exhaustion as you regained your bearings. With quaking limbs you sat up, gazing upon the tarnished bathroom as scatters of health-care and beauty products adorned the floor, some oozing liquid from its fractured encasement.

“We’ve fucked the bathroom,” you gruffly chuckled, wincing slightly as your throat felt like sandpaper. Han propped himself up and his eyes widened as a sheepish grin graced his flushed features. “My bad,” he grimaced before expelling in a coughing fit and laying back down on the cold tile as he closed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths. You glanced at him, a small smile gracing your lips before your eyes flitted to the cum-stained door, some of Han’s essence still dripping onto the tiled floor. “We should really clean that before it permanently discolours it,” you gestured to the ghastly evidence. Han merely hummed before you attempted to stand up, only to have your knees buckle and flop to the ground in exhaustion. A muffled laugh chorused from your side.

“Shut up,” you hissed. “This is your fault.” A small pout formed on your face as you softly slapped his arm in feign annoyance. Han only giggled more before he sat eye-level with you. “Sorry my love,” he grinned before pecking your pouty lips. He stood up with a groan, carefully dodging the fallen objects before returning with a damp towel and thoroughly wiped the edge of the door, chucking it in the bin afterward. “What about me?” you teasingly huffed, gesturing to your leaking pussy as a mixture of both your fluids trickled onto the floor. He playfully rolled his eyes, already retrieving another damp cloth before bending down and delicately wiping away the remnants of your cums. Your breath hitched at the cool touch, sucking on your lip to suppress any audible whimpers.

“You know,” you started after a pause as Han’s eyes flickered up to yours. “With how hard you fucked me, you probably broke my IUD in two.” A startled choking noise sounded from him as his skin ran a deeper crimson. You cackled at his response before cupping his rouged face in your hands, halting his motions as you caressed his warm cheeks. “My shy baby,” you cooed, planting a sweet kiss upon his lips. Your mouths moulded in sync as Han dropped the cloth and mirrored the kiss, sighing in contentment as he held you closer. You carefully broke the kiss, pulling back to admire his handsome features as he reclined into your palms. “I love you,” you whispered. A warm smile spread across his face as he leant in to peck your forehead. “I love you too,” he hummed, staring at you adoringly.

Suddenly, he stiffened. His face flushed a deeper crimson. You felt something prod your core. Han quickly glanced down. Then back at you. Your eyes widened. A bashful smirk adorned his face.

“Round two?”

A/N: Heyyyyy guys I'm backkkk!!! I've been working on this fic for a while now so I hope you all enjoyed it :)) ALSO WE REACHED 100 FOLLOWS!! I'm so happy!! I can't thank you guys enough for sticking around when I haven't been posting much, it really means a lot to me :)). Have a wonderful day/night and I hope to see y’all soon <33

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linniewrites · 1 year

Text

We all have our issues | Jungkook

idol!jungkook x chubby!student!reader

Summary : She asked me if she was pretty

Well, it's clear that the girl's a fraud

There's really no way of winning

If in their eyes you'll always be a dumb blonde.

Series warnings : mommy issues, daddy issues, age gap (Jk is 25 while reader is 20), crying, talk about anxiety, depression, abuse, mentions of panic attacks, school induced stress, fear of dogs (?), insecurities, body shaming.

List of Chapters :

Prologue

Chapter one : you sleep over at Jungkook’s for the first time, and realize that, you do, indeed, see him as more than a friend.

Chapter two : you ask Jungkook to go grocery shopping with you, but the day doesn’t end as nicely as it had started.

Chapter three : family reunions had never really been your things after all.

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frownyalfred · 2 months

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i LOVED the new eye in the sky chap! of course, you have the soul-crushing rage-inducing angst pile on bruce's end, but i also really appreciated the duke-hal moment; he's so level-headed about the situation that you don't really build up too much stress over him, but then you brought in a different kind of heartbreak with the realization that he's been in this position enough times to know that the least provoking thing he can do is to do nothing at all.

and the FUTURESPEAKING jesus CHRIST — it’s a different type, but your time manipulation fuckery is almost equally as hard to wrap your head around as the stuff in tenet (the nolan movie), it's genuinely so impressive. (sorry, i'm just gonna run my mouth here for a minute, but the idea really caught me and now i Have to share all my thoughts just to get them out of my brain, though i hope that you'll be generous enough to weigh in as well😅) i'd imagine that there's actually relatively very few people, in-universe, who can do this so that duke hears it correctly, because you have to be able to focus your mind and put enough intent into the idea that you're about to say something that it "registers" as the imminent future—which means that you have to, at the same time, be completely repressing your knowledge that you're NOT going to actually vocalize whatever it is, because that intention would obviously counteract the first. and THEN, to make what's already quite a tough mental exercise even more impressive, bruce is: thinking of a futurespeak-response, putting enough focus/intent behind it for that future to crystallize (and again, it's a double-headed task, because of the repression required as well), and then cutting that off in order to think of and say something completely different, *all in about just the same amount of time a normal person would take to respond naturally in a conversation.* (also, slightly less mind-boggling but still quite impressive to me and i want to give him his props: duke, in that last bit at the end at least, is maintaining both his awareness in the present and the mental effort of using his powers to see the future, in order to hear the exact same voice say two different things at the same time, and is able to not only maintain the background effort needed to hear both things, but is taking in enough detail to see/hear/notice "both" bruces' tone and body language. ...i mean, maybe that's not so impressive to people without auditory processing issues lmao, but as someone who's constantly asking people to repeat themselves, or really having to focus on the sounds when somebody's speaking to me, even in one-on-one conversations, it certainly impressed me!)

anyways, yeah, this just inspired a lot of interesting trains of thought for me and i wanted to share lol. your fics are always such great reads, can't wait for your next update! Hope you're well💜

Thank you so much!!!! You absolutely nailed what I was trying to get at with Duke’s powers. I really didn’t want over explain it and have people roll their eyes, but I also didn’t want to leave readers mystified as to what he was doing.

Duke and Bruce are supremely well matched in this fic for that reason among many others — Bruce has a freaky brain and understands time/intention well enough to be able to think, speak, and re-speak that quickly.

He can compartmentalize like no one else. I am not obviously that smart, but the way I thought about it was playing competing melodies on the piano with two different hands - once you find the rhythm, the way they work off each other, you can maintain both easily. Where they gap, where they overlap, where they compete for your attention.

Duke is good at glimpsing a few seconds forward/back but definitely not for long periods. Like Bruce said, he’s going to need help to train that and avoid burning himself out! Luckily he’s just listening and not double speaking like Bruce is.

Someone on ao3 left me this in the comment section and they’re so right lol:

I feel bad for Hal, just a little, just like Duke does. He was tortured by Kal essentially, and where he does want to hurt Bruce (a lot) there are still some lines he won’t cross. I don’t know if that makes him redeemable or just not entirely beyond redemption. I think Bruce seems to know this too — teasing him with that moral code he used to hold so tightly to.

It was definitely a fun space to play around in! Writing this fic is difficult for me (agh worldbuilding) but whenever I try I’m pleasantly surprised by how much fun I have. Thank you so much for reading!!

#asks #thank you!#myfic #bruce wayne #batman #dc #theresurrectionist #clark kent #eye in the sky #injustice #injustice gods among us #Hal jordan #green lantern #yellow lantern #Duke Thomas

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whorety-k · 4 months

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Hello! If you get the inspiration to do so, would you write something with Roboute Guilliman + Gát from Azahriah. I think the song would fit him.

Also on another note, I love Ebony Coasts💜💜 Looking forward to the next part!

Nothing shows my absolutely awful schedule like Ebony Coasts having finished before I even got to your ask my love

I am SO SORRY

I had never listened to anything in Hungarian before this point so this was actually really pleasant for me. This song got me in a mood to destroy that blueberry though, so please forgive me.

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman (40K) x gn!Reader

Song Inspiration: Gát - Azahriah [Youtube] [Spotify]

[Original Hungarian]

“Ezért nincsen bennem már szimpátia /

Elmegyek én bárhova, ha hívnak / Mert érezni akarom, amit régen /

Mert régen tönkrement valami bent / Valami bent, valaki bennem.”

[English Translation]

“That's why there's no sympathy in me /

I go anywhere if they call me / because I want to feel what I felt before /

Because in the past something broke inside / something inside, something in me.”

Warnings: Angst, Guilliman’s struggle to adapt to a new Imperium, relationship falling apart, heated argument, hurt / no comfort

Word Count: 2.5k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 1000 OOPS)

The office light was dim, drained of warmth. Roboute could barely keep his eyes focused on his papers anymore, with how each stack continued to mesh and meld together in his mind. A request for aid in the Yannsi system. Reports of ork activity along an Imperial supplyway. Another noble house asking for his audience for a vaguely stupid reason in their horse-and-pony show. With a sigh, he pushed the expensive looking envelope off of the table and into the waste bin.

Guilliman grew tired of it all.

But, in the name of the Imperium, he pushed onwards. Sheet after sheet, datapad after datapad, vox after vox.

He nearly missed the knock that rapped against the frame of the office doorway, timid and gentle. How he hadn’t seen them enter was either a show of focus or a token to his weariness, usually laser-focused senses dulled as day after day of piling issues droned by. Guilliman picks his head up out of his hands, rolling loose circles into his temples with his index and middle fingers. “Come in,” he beckons.

Your quiet footsteps echo in the chamber built to the size of a primarch. The scents of exhaustion and old sweat permeate the air, for even a being handcrafted by the Emperor himself is subject to the soil of exertion.

Guilliman’s eyes soften substantially from their stress-induced glower as you draw near, but it’s not enough to fully smooth the deep-set furrow in his brow, or the everlasting scowl on his face. “My love, has something happened that needs my attention?” he inquires, leaning forward to get a better look at you. You stand before him in your favorite robe: a simple yet practical garment that he had gifted you for a holiday celebration, ultramarine blue silks embroidered with golden laurels along the neckline. He would give you so much more if you didn’t feel so guilty at receiving his affections, always so concerned with any excess spending given the state of the Imperium. He was too— more than you ever could be— but you were supposed to be his space away from the mess. It frustrated him to no end to be reminded of his family’s failings when he was actively trying to find an escape from it, and especially because he shouldn’t have you.

You should have been long dead. After the failed Siege of Terra and the end of the Heresy, Guilliman had found you, a noble agent, desperately working far beyond your capacities within the Imperial Palace to keep things running. A tense friendship blossomed into an awkward, complicated relationship with private moments stolen whenever fate would allow. Neither of you were able or willing to put a label to it, given your pre-existing devotion to fixing the weakened state of the Imperium. Your knowledge of the parties both behind and beyond the Imperial walls proved invaluable to helping the Ultramarines hold it together, and Guilliman could not have been more grateful for your help. Roboute planned to express his gratitude and formally request your hand after your return from a diplomatic mission to help secure support from some of the world less affected by the heresy.

He never got the opportunity to do so. On the return voyage to Terra, your ship had been ambushed and knocked loose of its path in the warp. Your anticipated arrival date had come and passed, and no one heard any word from your vessel. Within an instant, any hope of creating a better future with you had been indirectly or directly ripped from him by his traitorous brothers, just as it had been before.

Roboute thought he had all but moved on by the time he was struck down by Fulgrim, thought had finally shaken the silent longing when he finally awoke from his ten millenia stasis into the disaster the Imperium of Man had become. The hellscape he has been thrust into gave him no time to dwell on any of the things he had lost ten-thousand years ago. It did not matter how hollow or angry he felt when everyone galaxy-wide was demanding something of him, and who better than the Avenging Son to fill the role?

The day the vox came in that a ship with a downright ancient signature had entered Terra’s orbit is one he would never forget. Guilliman was prepared to have it destroyed, certain that the vessel had been overrun with chaos, but the sound of your voice asking for him over the vox channels stopped him. His hearts seized in his chest when you recognized him.

Roboute, is that you?

It’s been years. We just found a way out.

Roboute, can you hear me?

“Roboute.”

His head snaps up from his daze, not noticing how he had begun to nod off, lost in his ruminations. He hadn’t made the mistake of not asking for your hand soon enough a second time. The stern tone of voice alerts him that he’s missed whatever you had said before, and he sits forward again to reengage.. “I’m sorry, love. I am listening,” Roboute says, letting out the breath he had been holding.

You shake your head, gaze falling to the floor for a brief instant before your eyes find his again. “I asked you to come to bed, Roboute. You haven’t left the office for days, and I know you’re tired.” You call attention to his lapse with a gesture of the hand.

Guilliman’s scowl deepens, looking down at the paper before him on his desk. As tempting as that offer was... “I cannot, love. I am sorry.”

“Will there be a day I don’t hear that?” you rebut, stepping closer to his desk. Your head only barely hovers above it as you come near, resting a hand on the varnished wood. “Or shall I keep hoping?”

The primarch scoffs, taken aback at the rhetoric. He didn’t dismiss you that often… did he? His blue eyes burn into yours, expression hardening. “My work is important. It isn’t something I can just stop and abscond from. You know this.”

You fold your arms in response, doubling down. “Are these the conditions in which you can do your best work? Barely able to keep your head up?”

For once, Guilliman can’t argue. His shoulders are tight, his neck tired and sore from staring down at a desk for longer than a baseline human could even stay awake without death. His eyes stopped burning after a certain point, now nearly numb. He tries to blink the feeling away, only to struggle with opening his eyes again.

It doesn’t go unnoticed under your gaze. “Come to bed, Roboute,” you plead, resting your chin upon his desk. Sapphires of the softest cobalt land on you, and you reach a hand out toward him. Your drowsy voice continues, “I hardly ever see you outside of this dreaded space. I don’t remember the last time we shared a bed together.”

His massive hand dwarfs your own when he takes it, stroking the delicate skin of the back of your hand. “I would like to join you– truly, I would– but I cannot afford to step away from this,” Guilliman asserts, voice gentle yet firm in his decision.

Your expression falls, as it always does. Guilliman expects you to nod your head and concede as you normally did, letting go of your hand to pick up a pencil once more. He finds the starting line of the report and begins to peruse the document. The Lord Governor of the—

“When will it be enough?”

Guilliman tenses up, tearing his gaze away from the words he was reading. Your voice completely blindsides him, and he isn’t even sure if he’s certain he heard what you said. “I’m sorry?” he asks.

“When will you have done enough, Roboute?” you repeat, stepping away from the wooden desk. As your full body comes into view, he can see how your limbs tremble with emotion. “When will you have reached a point that you are truly satisfied with what you’ve done?” Your voice comes as a challenge, crossing your arms over your chest once again. Your knuckles blanch with the force you grip yourself with.

It’s the second time you manage to render Guilliman completely speechless. When is enough, enough? He gawks as he looks you over, eyes jumping between your upset form and the page before him. It’s a question he didn’t allow himself to dwell on, unable to find a satisfactory answer. It has been, is, and always will be his responsibility to convert the raw data of a problem into something with a detailed solution; it was his strongest skill as a leader. He can stop when there are solutions.

You interrupt his train of thought with another siren call, holding eye contact as you tempt him away once more with your sweet voice. “Your standards you hold yourself to are honorable, but even the great Roboute Guilliman, son of the Emperor of Mankind, requires his rest.”

And by the throne, he does. He well and truly does. Guilliman could use another ten thousand years in stasis if it wouldn’t make his problems any worse. Instead, though, he’s content to finish one more paper and go to bed. Finally, he nods, pushing aside a stack of documents to start tomorrow. It seems that Roboute would be the one conceding today, muttering, “I will join you shortly.”

Unfortunately for him, you aren’t having any of it. “No, you will come now,” you demand, putting your foot down. You continue, stern tone softening, “Please, if not for you, take care of yourself for me.”

The words make Guilliman’s head throb, irritation threatens to flare within him as the words cause an uncomfortable roiling within his chest. He buries his head into his hands with a grunt– it’s all he can do to prevent an annoyed growl of, “everything I do is for you,” from leaving him. Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to cool his temper. “This final document is just a report from another world. It won’t take me long,” he promises.

“Then it can wait until tomorrow,” you argue, fed up with the barrage of excuses to continue. “I am serious, Roboute. One world’s ‘report’ is not the end-all, be-all of the Imperium. I know that you are under a lot of strain to fix the mess we’re in–”

Guilliman abruptly sits up, chair flying back as he stands to full height. You can barely perceive the flash movement before the clash of the chair hitting the wall makes you jump. “And you could possibly hope to understand?” Guilliman spits, slamming his hands onto the table. The shout of the primarch instinctually drowns you in dread, and you’re unable to stop the reflexive trembling that kicks in as you stare up at him. Guilliman is furious, all of the signs of exhaustion he had exhibited so plainly before replaced with vitriol. He continues, voice laced with venom, “You could hope to understand what it is to be left with the bloated corpse of my father’s legacy, forced to pick up the pieces as nothing but a tool in his stead as everything he fought for has been so thoroughly perverted? When the mere thought of how things were before is now heresy, despite those fanatics worshiping a book written by a traitor?” His breathing labors, desk creaking precariously with the force he’s exerting upon it. At your lack of response, Guilliman scoffs again. “No,” he growls, turning away, “your mind couldn’t begin to fathom the depths of the pressure placed upon me.”

Your eyes burn with tears, cheeks warm and wet. The outburst leaves you completely shaken, clutching at your sides like a cornered animal. The sight alone fills Roboute with remorse, but you don’t give him the chance to apologize. “I was there,” you utter through shaky breaths. Roboute’s mouth clamps shut. “I lived the old Imperium, picked up the pieces of it beside you. Do you think this has been easy for me?” you press, unable to look the primarch in the eye. “I spent five years in the warp, unsure of whether or not I would ever leave it. Would I die there? Would I find a fate worse? What if one of your brothers was to find me?” Each word punches him in his chest, hearts heavy with the weight of instant regret. He can see how you tremble as you relive what you went through, all at the cost of his loud mouth. “I never gave up, even when so many others had, driven to insanity or the depths of depression. I continued to fight when even the Astartes had one-by-one resigned themselves to fate.” Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you begin to find confidence in your words as your fear turns into rage, jabbing an accusatory finger in Guilliman’s direction. “I survived to find you again, and I have done nothing but stand by your side and help you try to make heads or tails of the absolute fucking mess we’re in. Does that mean nothing?”

Guilliman doesn’t look away from you as you verbally lash into him. Despite his pride, he knows you’re right. You haven’t truly been wrong once this evening, and in his stubbornness, he has only managed to make everything worse for the both of you. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Of course you didn’t, because you’ve only been thinking about yourself and what will become of you. Will your torment ever end?” you spit back, cutting him off. He bows his head, lips drawn tight. Tense silence fills the room as your words hang heavy in his mind. You shake your head, letting out a muffled sob. “I will be in the bedroom when you remember yourself, Roboute Guilliman.”

With that, you turn on your heel and march out of the room, leaving Guilliman alone in the office with his thoughts. He can only stare at the doorway before the rush of the moment leeches out of him, causing him to slump down into his chair. Guilt claws in his chest, up his throat like an angry badger. His head spins as it fills with everything he should have said, should have done, instead of making a damned fool of himself. The rift between the two of you grew evermore.

Guilliman picks up his pencil from the floor, drawing the planetary report in front of him so he can focus again on the only thing he’s actually sure he’s worthy of anymore: fixing logistics.

#roboute guilliman #roboute guilliman x reader #guilliman x reader #ultramarines #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #primarch #primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #raven lady writings

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bloo-the-dragon · 1 month

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out ooffff curiosity

in quite a few fics with your mer au with eclipse its frequently referenced that he has "episodes"

what happens during those episodes? is there something specific that triggers them or is it something stress induced? does ruin have any ways to help or does he try to stay out of the way until its over?

*cracks knuckles* Prepare thineself for a text wall lmao

So first of all i'm gonna give some context here- Eclipse to put it shortly has the robot equivalent of brain damage. His code is pretty messed up which affects his behaviours and other side effects. This is a result of him having been decommissioned (basically killed) when he was still 'sun and moon' and then brought back again as a mish-mash of both codes.

He was not intended to have a long work life, his expiry being estimated for about 2-3 years and this is primarily due to the fact that his specific model/ai was always intended to function with two ai - so if we look at the eclipse (solar) and lunar from my runaways au, they are a paired ai and if one was to die the other would eventually follow.

Anyways so during his worklife Eclipse's already unstable code was messed up even more due to electrocution from tasers by his owners plus his natural slow deterioration from not having a counterpart (before meeting Ruin which while saved his life, did not fix all the issues). Only reason he survived as long as he did was because he is a mix of two previously paired ai which helped extent his initial lifespan (and the fact he's a stubborn ass)

Ok context concluded i'll now answer the details:

What happens during these episodes?

Moodswings, seizures and at worst crashes. Almost always these result in some form of memory loss. The moodswings tend to be the most common and they can make him act out/say things in an various ways, most often aggressive/angry ones and he doesn't always remember them when they occur due to the memory files being corrupted.

The seizures he has tend to be the absense type though sometimes he may experience a tonic/atonic one. Unlike the crashing in which he experiences a full shutdown and reboot (which he never remembers) the seizures at most can cause soft reboots and minor memory loss.

What are the Triggers?

Stress is the primary cause, but they can happen without warning even if he is feeling fine. The frequency of these episodes in this context is thankfully not too often but usually occur at least a couple times a month.

The immediate causes though? Electricity. The sight of it and the sound of it (this can include thunderstorms but they arn't as bad unless he directly sees the lighting flash in the sky) this is due to traumas of being electrocuted. Also unexpected physical contact like being roughly grabbed or otherwise touched without warning, especially if near his neck/head. This is also related to the traumas with electricity.

How does Ruin help, if he can? Or does he stay out of the way?

Ruin helps however he can when he can! If Eclipse is having an angry moodswing, he will keep out of his way and try not to make too much noise but keeps a close eye just in case it does turn into a seizure. If it's a more depressed/sad one then he'll stay by Eclipse side offering nuzzles, preens and lots of reassurances.

If Eclipse does have a seizure (absense) Ruin will try to guide Eclipse either to the sofa or bed (or floor if nothing else) - this may not always work but Ruin will stay with him regardless, talking with him until Eclipse comes out of it again.

If its a tonic/atonic one and Eclipse collapses, Ruin would attempt to catch him or cushion his fall and would remain with Eclipse until he woke up. Basically using the same methods of talking/cheeping til he does.

#questions and answers #Anon #sun and moon show #sams eclipse #eaps eclipse #sams ruin #sams mer au #i hope i managed to have this make sense hdfg #i'm currently sick and a little feverish so brains a bit mushed

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fruispunk · 1 year

Text

Nightmares / Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader genre: fluff/smut word count: 6544 premise: you've taken up a new job in the QZ but the after affects have you riddled with nightmares. when joel miller, your long-time neighbor, friend, and colleague, hears sounds from your room adjacent to his own, his overthinking mind sends him into a jealous spiral. warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, soft joel is v love drunk, descriptions of dead bodies, mentions of death of children, casual ignorance of addressing trauma, the usual apocalyptical nonsense.

read on AO3

a/n: this is my first time writing joel so hopefully its not OOC please be kind, I appreciate any feedback! I know it isn't the most original concept but I just wanted to feel out writing for him. expect lots more pedro-centric fics on the way too :) ~

You bolted up right, sheets thrown off of you and a ragged breathe dragged its way desperately into your lungs. Your face was tear stained, your skin glistening with a sheen of stress induced sweat. Another bad dream had infiltrated your mind, disturbing what little rest you managed to find. This was the third time this week you had to rub your wet eyes, take some deep breathes and throw your head back down into your pillow in annoyance. Sleep would evade you once again.

Living in the Boston QZ was not necessarily the easiest life, but a lot of the time it beat living in fear, running from those things outside the walls. Or, it had done, until now. Until you took on a much more harrowing job. It paid more, sure, but it left your body aching and exhausted, and your mind in a state of unfathomable unease. It wasn't like burning bodies was anyone's dream job, but it was a job that had to be done, and one with sore consequences on your conscience.

Not that you were weak, but it wasn't like you could pick up the dead weight of a fully grown man and toss him onto the fire single handedly. So that left you with the smaller of bodies. The young women. The children. It was impossible to live in this world without seeing bloodshed, without being tormented by memories of lost loves ones, haunted by actions you wished you could take back or things you wished you'd done quicker. Everyone was plagued with something. Whether you were infected or not. That didn't make doing what you had to do any easier. Holding the limb body of a lifeless child could pain even the darkest of souls.

And that's what had been keeping you up. You'd seen family and friends succumb to disease. You'd seen people torn apart. You had slaughtered and killed and hacked away at plenty in your life - that is what surviving in this world cost. But seeing the piles of small nameless bodies stacked carelessly in the back of a van, dumped in silence into a fire they shared with so many you couldn't count. It hurt. Deeply. Death was not discriminatory to who she claimed as her own - taking too those who had barely started a life of their own. They didn't deserve this. They deserved a life of freedom. A life where they could be children. Where they could play, laugh. A life where when they died at an old age they would leave this world surrounding by people who loved them, who knew their name, who knew their life.

God, if you could only settle your head as easy as you overthought. You knew you could not always afford to be so sensitive or surrender to those innate emotional impulses you had in public. It was dangerous to been seen as weak. So you buried them inside and evidently, when your subconscious mind was allowed a little bit of freedom, all of those unaddressed issues and thoughts and worries poured out of you untameably.

When you left your assigned apartment (if you could call it that) in the morning, Joel was just locking his door. You weren't unaccustomed to the looks he gave you, and you looked forward to greeting him each morning, but the past week he had been rather... off. Distant. Not that Joel was particularly easy to get close to, or that you were extremely close anyway, but the daily nods of greeting as you worked had ceased. The offering of water on your work breaks or knocking on your door to offer leftover wine had stopped too, and casual conversation was no more. You were perplexed as to why. You thought of Joel as a friend, a strikingly good looking, strong, protective one that you harbored a little crush on. You'd be lying to yourself if you weren't feeling a little hurt by his distance.

"Morning," You offered, failing to fight back a yawn. Joel used to tease you when you were sleepy - scold you and tell you to get more rest. He was rarely ever too soft in his words, but you knew they came from a place of care. This morning he simply gave you a grunt in response. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just had a long night too?

As you both made your way out of the building and towards your shared work area for the morning you failed again to rid yourself of your yawn and Joel shot you a glare.

"Not sleep well?" He asked, but there was a striking lack of the usual care in his voice. It was more accusatory.

"Not one bit." You said casually, a little confused by his tone.

"Right." He said, bluntly. He didn't even give you the opportunity to ask what was wrong. He'd already got to work, storming off ahead of you. If you had the energy, and if the FEDRA soldiers scattered all over the QZ weren't watching the place like hawks you might have shouted at him, asked him what his problem was. Instead you sighed. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood for conversation right now?

Work dragged by as usual. Sometimes you felt a little outside of your own body when you worked, your mind checking out when the flames of the fire claimed another of the bodies - the smell of rotten burning flesh making your mind spin and your stomach churn. Ash clung to your hair and the fibers of your clothes. With your hands on your thighs, exhausted, you took a moment to catch your breath. Joel looked at you, and even through the protective goggles and mask you could see his unimpressed face.

"Tired. Sorry."

"Yeah," He said coldly, shooting back, "You're not the only one."

You stood a little dumbfounded at the harshness of his words. This wasn't a throw away comment relating to your struggle. It was angry. He never spoke to you like that. Not with such venom. Never.

You stood, eye to eye, sharing nothing but fumes bouncing from the top of each others heads. Before you even got the chance to say anything back you were being told off by a supervisor. 'No breaks without your pay being docked! Talking can wait! If talking is what Joel even wants to do.'

Joel kicked himself for that, and avoided looking at you for the rest of the working day, which he found much harder than he liked to admit. Looking to you was a brief solace for him on days when he had to burn bodies to feed himself. He had been happy to know you were going to work alongside him. Spend more time with him. You were like a light, warm and inviting, beckoning him in, and like a stupid little moth he spent most of his days drifting off towards you. Now, though, when he looked at you he wasn't filled with that calming enjoyable feeling spreading warm throughout his chest, he was filled instead with a deep gut flipping rage that made him feel sick.

It wasn't his fault. He couldn't help feeling the way he did. Not when you smiled at him more gently than he thought he deserved. Not when your eyes shined a little brighter as you greeted him than they did when greeting anyone else. And of course now he felt guilty because he had started taking his issues out on you. You couldn't help being so kind and sweet to him. He knew you were oblivious to his feelings for you because of course he wasn't very obvious at showing them. It wasn't your fault that he was overcome with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. You were entitled to that - a grown women that he wasn't going to stop from making her own choices. It didn't mean he would be happy about it though.

He was angry at himself more than anything because, how had this happened? Most men kept their hands and eyes off you and their words to themselves anytime Joel gave them a warning look. He, be it intentionally or not, had an unspoken claim on you. So how, when his eyes were expertly trained on you at most times, had you found this lover you had taken up this past week?

Usually when you would finish your shift, you and Joel would wait for one another to hand in your time sheets and you'd walk back home together. Today however Joel stormed home, too angry to have a rational conversation with you which wouldn't end in him confessing how he felt or making a fool out of himself in public. You were disheartened to see him avoid your stare, which followed his broad shoulders and greying hair all the way down whatever street he had stormed off down until he rounded a corner and he was gone from your sight. The sigh that escaped you when you received your measly food tokens was for once not from the lack of good pay.

When the sky starts to darken and he knows you've made it home by the sounds of your keys jangling open your old rusted door lock he puts his head in his hands. He was practically doing this to himself. He knows he shouldn't. He knows he really really shouldn't. But he cant help himself. He sits up, waiting for you. Listening. Being as quiet as he can to hear for any distinguishable voice to identify your mysterious midnight caller. Nothing comes. No sneaking creek of your front door. No hushed voices. Nothing. Nothing but you that is. Nothing but your noises.

Small whines and gasps leave your lips and tumble into the room around you, echoing in the almost empty room and filtering through any old rotting walls that kept you and Joel from each other. It was driving him insane. To hear you like that. To imagine you writhing against someone else. Seeking pleasure from the hands he did not possess. It burned up in him. He hated that it made him half hard to imagine you bare against his own bed, under his own body.

It was a bad one tonight. A really bad one. Images of all the children you had burned came to you as you slept. Every single one. Their faces unrecognizable against the flames melting their flesh away. They came at you fast. They cried and they screamed and they begged and you did the same in return. You were shaking when you woke. Your mouth dry, your hair stuck to your forehead. You couldn't get back to sleep now. There was no point in trying.

The same as every night for Joel, your noises came to an abrupt stop. And the same as every night Joel had to restrain himself from going over, fists clenched until his knuckles were bright white. But this night, instead of the noises completely stopping, he hears your soft foot steps pat across the floor. In the deathly quiet he hears the smash of broken glass against your hard wood floor, and then, the recognisable heart wrenching sounds of your soft cries.

And he's up then. Without even thinking about it, he's flinging his apartment door open and banging his hand against your door. Hurried and panicked and immediately ready to do what had to be done to protect you! The five seconds from the minute he slammed his fist against your door to you opening it felt like an eternity to him. Where you alright? What had happened? Had your mystery lover hurt you? Do I have to break this door down?

Your heart felt like it jumped out your body when the banging came from your door. You stepped around the glass of water you had accidentally dropped and took your still shaking legs to your front door. You were thankful to see it was Joel through your peephole and not a FEDRA soldier.

The second you unlocked the door he flew into your place, eyes scanning all over the room.

"Where is he!" He almost shouts, without looking at you.

"What do you mean where is he?" You asked confused, "Where is who?"

"Your friend! You know who!" Joel spat at you.

"What are you talking about Joel? There isn't anyone here!" You raised your voice a little at him. He looked at you then. The fury in his eyes dying down as he saw your expression. You looked exhausted, upset. Tears wet your eyes and your cheeks were flushed. He saw the glass then on the floor in a small puddle of water. To your surprise he was looking just as confused as you were.

You noticed him look to the shattered glass, "I just...I just dropped a glass and it just, shocked me a little...I'm just tired."

"Of what?" He said, still a little mad, unsure of the situation he had walked in on.

"Are you angry at me right now?" You asked, a little fed up of his attitude, "Because...if you are I really can't do this right now. I've not been sleeping and-"

"Yeah I've heard." Joel replied flatly, trying to ignore how beautiful and inviting you looked in your little night dress.

"You...you've heard me?" You asked, quietly.

"Yes."

"Oh Joel, I'm so sorry..." You were bright red in an instant, and feeling incredibly guilty. 'Was this why he was so angry? Have I been keeping him up?' "I had no idea I was being so loud. My nightmares, they're really...they're really awful right now. I think its the new job or something..."

Now it was Joel's turn to feel embarrassed, "Wait, did you say nightmares?"

"Y-Yeah. They're like night terrors, or something. I didn't know the walls were so thin. If I had known I'd of slept at the other end of the room. I'm sorry Joel, I didn't mean to wake you." You were so apologetic and it made him want to die inside a little bit. Another wave of guilt washed over him. In his possessive depravity he had only your pleasure on his mind. It didn't even occur to him once that you might be struggling.

He sighed, and finally closed the door to your apartment. You silently wondered what the other neighbors were thinking. You bit your lip a little awkwardly as he sat down at the wobbly stool in your kitchen and put his head in his hands.

"God I'm so stupid."

"What?" You asked gently, stepping closer to him a little, "No you're not. Why do you say that?"

He shakes his head a little and chuckles lowly, "Honey, I thought..." he takes a breath and tries his best to not avoid your looks at him, "I thought this whole time you had someone over here...making you make them noises you were making."

Your mind goes a little blank for a second, and you stand dumbfounded, lips parted a little in surprise. And then his words hit you like a tonne of bricks, and they're heavier than any body you had picked up that day or any day previous. You laughed a little then, covering your mouth with your hands, "No! Oh my god no!"

"Hey! Don't you laugh at me." He laughs back a little, loving hearing these sounds. Even if they were at his expense, he could not help but think of the comparison to the ones he had been hearing before. He much preferred these.

"I'm not, I'm not." You denied playfully.

"You are." He looks away from you and to his feet. You stop laughing but you smile at him softly.

"Joel?" You ask, and he looks to you instantly with those big brown puppy dog eyes and you feel like you might melt, "Where you mad because I was waking you up or where you mad because you thought I had a man in here?"

"You're not dumb."

"I'm not." You nod with a smirk, "Still want to hear you to say it though."

The look he gives you is more intense than you feel you've ever shared. You feel like your heart is in your throat.

"Course you do," He fails to hide a little smirk of his own, "It wasn't because you were waking me up."

"No?"

"No."

The room was silent. You were stood, staring at each other, much too far away for your liking. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Waiting. Wondering.

"I was driving myself insane," Joel says then, "thinking about you with someone else. Thinking about someone else's hands on you."

Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you thought Joel might be able to hear it.

"You really think I'd have just anyone in here?" You teased him.

He raised his eyebrows a little, "You're a grown woman you can do what you like. Who you like. I can't stop you."

"We both know that's not true."

You watched how his eyes got a little darker then as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling in time with his deep nose exhales. He looked like he was ready to eat you. Perhaps in his head he was. He had a problem with possessiveness. 'Did she know this whole time?'

"Do you have a problem with that?"

You let his words settle before you ventured to step a little closer to him, "You're not dumb." You echoed Joel's earlier words.

"Still wanna hear you say it." He teased you back with repeating your own, his words meeting a smirk so handsome you thought you might pass out - you smiled at him. Content. You were both bad at feelings. You struggling to admit how strongly you both felt for one another with words. This moment right here felt like the closest you would get to ever being upfront about how deeply you both felt.

"Joel," The hum of his name on your lips had him reeling. You closed the gap between you both, standing on two feet in front of him as he still sat in your rickety old kitchen chair. You brushed your fingers through the sides of his hair delicately, caressing the side of his stubble kissed face. He leaned into your touch, an arm resting loosely at your waist, the feeling of the pads of your fingers sending goosebumps up and down his body. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. It was the most vulnerable you had ever saw him look. So love drunk. Your heart melted, "Joel I don't want anyone else. You know that right?"

"Well, you have me if you want me that badly, darlin'" He teased you, smiling as he felt you fake shove his chest a little in protest, "Wouldn't let anybody else have you anyway."

"Wouldn't have guessed by the way you nearly took my door off the hinges."

"Almost did it two nights ago when I heard you making those little noises."

"Hindsight Miller."

He laughed heartily at that.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," He said, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "If I'd of known you were upset I wouldn't have been so harsh on you. Shouldn't have been harsh on you anyway for that matter."

"It's alright. If I'm being honest, I kinda like the thought of you all worked up over me."

"You wanna quit talkin' before you start something you can't stop." He looked over you with that intense dark gaze in his eyes again.

"You think I'd wanna stop?" You challenge despite your heart being in your throat. When he didn't reply you ventured to push him a little further, "Are you going to stay the night or do I have to beg?"

He gave you a chuckle through half lidded eyes, "Guess you're gunna have to get on your knees then."

"Oh look who's got jokes," the banter you shared was not uncommon, but this had been the most flirtatious. The most open about your now clearly mutual feelings, "So that's the stuff you're into huh?"

"You got no idea."

"You're right, I don't," You chuckled at him, watching as he stood from his seat so he was looking down at you now, "Why don't you show me?"

"You're playing with fire, you know that?" The hand still wrapped around your waist pulled you into him then, his other hand caressing your face.

"Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

He didn't have to be told twice - his lips met yours, more gently at first than you had thought he would do. Almost like he was still unsure. You could feel the pair of you smiling. And then his hand had moved from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close so you didn't know where your body stopped and his began. And you weren't smiling anymore. Panting, clutching at his shirt with your hand like you couldn't ever bare to let go. Terrified if you did he'd be gone. Your lips never parted, your tongues slipping past each others mouths, tasting one another with a hunger neither one of you had satisfied for a long time.

He grabbed your face in both hands, moving you so his mouth could more easily place kisses across your jaw and onto your neck. The feel of his beard scratching you gently, the light nips of his teeth as he sucked gently against your neck and the low grunts into your ear had a soft whine escape your mouth. A real one. One he had caused. Joel couldn't think of a time he had gotten that hard that quickly in his entire lifetime - your sounds were like honey. Delectable. And he devoured them, tongue in your mouth, desperate for more.

His hands grabbed at your ass then, his fingers delicately tickling their way underneath your night dress to knead at your ass.

His lips parted yours, panting and breathless. His forehead was pressed against yours, your noses touching still, "Jump for me." He said.

"Not with your back." You tormented.

"Shut up," He scolded you, but with a tone that was far from menacing, "Jump."

You did as you were told with a chuckle, putting your hands to his broad shoulders to steady yourself as you jumped. He expertly wrapped your legs around his waist and walked you over to your bed. Joel was silently thankful that your bed wasn't too far because realistically his back did hurt - he didn't even feel embarrassed for the way in which your words, how they proved to care for him, had the corners of his mouth turning up. He hadn't felt this feeling he had for you for a long while. So long it felt foreign to him; he welcomed it.

He just about tossed you onto the bed then, immediately leaning over you as you let out an excited laugh. Your night dress had rode up so your upper legs and underwear was exposed to him. The guttural noise he made at the sight made your head spin. His mouth was on yours again and his hands grabbing at your thighs, the feel of his fingers on your exposed skin making him even harder than he thought he ever could be. You wined at the strength of the grip he had on you and he let go a little, a little panic in his eyes as he looked you over. He was uncharacteristically nervous - trying so hard not to ruin this with you after wanting it for so bad for so long.

"What's wrong?" You ask, your hands coming to stroke his upper arms.

"Don't wanna hurt ya."

You touched his face sweetly, and kissed his cheek, understanding his apprehension. It had been a while for you too. "You won't break me Joel."

"I might."

"Why don't you show me how you do that as well then?"

He groaned a little at your words, his forehead pressing into yours.

"You're killing me, you know that?" He sighed, "Don't wanna be too much too soon...don't wanna scare you off."

"You could never scare me off. Ever." You said, he avoided your eyes a little, so you continued, thinking he maybe needed reassurance to let loose a little more, "Joel. I want you. I want this. I've always wanted this."

That seemed to do the trick with him. His hands were under your dress then, feeling the curves of your waist, cupping your breast, running the pad thumb over your nipple. The feeling of his hands on you had you whining softly again for him.

"You gunna take this off or do I gotta rip it off?" He growled at you, his hands and eyes desperate for more.

You thought you'd never moved so quickly in all your life. The nightdress pulled over your head and thrown to the floor, Joel's shirt joined it and your lips were locked once again. You were under him, in only underwear, exposed to him under the dim light of your apartment. You felt like you were in a dream with the way he kept looking at you - drinking you in.

"Don't know how long I've waited for this," He said breathlessly, pinning your arms expertly above your head, "Waited to touch you."

You whined in protest a little, desperate to touch him as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing, licking, sucking expertly. A moan left you then, followed by a whine of his name.

"What's the matter sweetheart? You want me to touch you?"

"I wanna touch you."

"You can wait your turn," he chuckled, continuing his assault on your breasts, "Wanna make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you."

You bit your lip at his words and watched him as he released your hands and kissed his way down your body. He admittedly would not normally take such a long time with this, but he'd been wanting you like this for so long he wanted to make sure he lasted. Make sure you were satisfied. You were practically dripping for him by the time his head found his way between your thighs.

He lifted your legs, pulling your panties away from you and exposing your wet heat to him. He groaned, his hands stopping you from closing your thighs together shyly.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He said, enjoying how fast your face went red. You tried to close your legs again, but Joel gripped them hard, "You gunna be a good girl and keep em open for me?"

You nodded, completely unable to form words at the prospect of Joel Miller saying these positively sinful things to you. You were so caught up in his words that the feeling of his tongue licking a stripe from your hole to your clit made you gasp. You watched him as he licked and sucked at you, slowly teasing your clit in circles with his tongue, then sucking the bud and then going back to licking. You threw your head back into the pillow, overwhelmed by how quickly you thought he was going to make you cum, your orgasm already building tight in your stomach.

He couldn't get enough of you, the moans and grunts of his own vibrating against your sex. The taste of you. You couldn't help yourself then - you were a writhing mess beneath him, grinding your hips into his face with your fingers threading through his hair. You slapped one of your hands to your mouth to choke back a moan, and suddenly Joel was pulling away, one of his hands slapping gently at your arm.

"Wanna hear you baby," He said as whined from the lack of contact. He pressed a thumb to your clit but didn't move it, "don't go shy on me now, wanna hear how much you like me tongue fucking your little pussy."

"Oh God," you moaned, his dirty words getting you off.

"Atta girl."

He began moving his thumb in slow circles around your clit, moving his index and middle to slide through your folds. The slick sound they made as they glistened against his finger had him leaking precum onto himself. He slid a thick finger into you and you moaned. He added another an you moaned again, the feeling of your walls gripping his fingers making his head spin at how they might feel wrapped round his cock.

"Fuck, you know how turned on your little noises have been making me? Felt like a fucking pervert, had me hard as a rock thinking about what you'd look like if it was me on top of you, making you whine like that."

He said, picking his pace up, expertly fucking his fingers into you and licking and sucking at your clit in intervals until the grip in his hair got a little tighter and he could feel all your muscles begin to tense up.

"You gunna cum baby?" He asked at the increase in your noises. Words were still failing you so you nodded frantically, your shut in bliss, "Come on, you can do it, come for me beautiful."

Who were you to deny him? Especially when he showered you in compliments. The tight knot of your orgasm unraveled for him, the feeling like stars warm across your whole body. You cum on Joel's fingers as his mouth drank every last bit of you, reveling in how you were gushing for him. Your moans were sinful, and now that he was hearing them, really hearing them, he thinks he was so stupid for believing the noises you had been making were from anything close to this.

He let you ride out your orgasm before your breathing evened out and you started to giggle and push him away from him overstimulating your clit.

"Come here." You beckoned him to come closer to you. His mouth and chin and beard were all glistening with your juices. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he climbed on top of you and captured your mouth on his own. You were practically clinging to him, your arms at his neck and shoulders, his arms either side of your head boxing you underneath him. He leaned on you a little, your breasts coming into contact with his bare chest and you moaned a little as you pulled his hips closer to your own with your legs wrapped around him.

You could feel how hard he was as his hips pressed against yours, the outline of his clothed cock enough to have you biting your lip. You fiddled with his belt a little but struggled to get it off him. He laughed at your attempts and sat back to help you, the wetness of your pussy evident on his trousers.

You sat up, ghosting your hand across his covered length wanting to take him into your mouth but Joel couldn't stand waiting any longer, he was getting a little more desperate to feel you around him. To claim you. Make you his.

He gripped your hands, "Stay down."

"Wanna suck you off." You pouted a little.

He laughed darkly, "As much as I'd love to feel that little mouth on me, that can wait," He discarded his jeans and underwear, his hard weeping cock bouncing up against his stomach, "Just need you right now darlin'"

"Next time then." You giggled at him, trying not to feel intimidated by the length and girth of Joel exposed in front of you. He was big. So big you maybe thought he was doing you a favour - saving the ache of your throat for a different time.

"Next time." He chuckled again lowly, excited by the prospect that this wouldn't just be a one time thing.

He pulled you closer to the end of the bed by the thighs and you let out a surprised laugh. You were smiling up at him, watching how his big hand gripped his length and gave himself a few loose tugs, the site of you had the head red and weeping.

"You're so handsome." You said softly, and for a brief moment his dark eyes softened on you. He leaned down to capture your lips briefly. It was much slower than he had been. Gentle like the first kiss you shared. You held his head in your hands as he ran the head of dick through your folds, "Don't think you'll fit."

"You can take it." He growled into your ear, his big wide hands angling your hips. You moaned a little at his words.

He teased your entrance a little with the head of his cock, running his full length along your folds, over your clit and back down again, gathering up your wetness to help aid himself the fit. When he notched the tip just inside he made a noise so animalistic it sent goosebumps across the expanse of your flesh. He pushed in slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He was so thick. Your mouth hung open a little as he seated himself fully inside you.

"Fuck... You're so- so tight," Joel grunted, moving his hips just a little and looking down to watch how your walls clung to his length. He kissed your cheek and held you close as he pulled out all the way and pushed back in.

His pace was slow at first but still hard, his hips snapping roughly against your own. You felt so full, your body and mind consumed by him. You felt just as demented as he did no as you watched how his lips parted a little, his curls stuck to his perspirant covered forehead. He grabbed your thighs a little rougher, throwing each of your legs over his shoulders and then somehow he was hitting so deep your felt like you couldn't breathe.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Oh God. You're so big Joel," You were rambling, his dick rubbing hard against your walls, "Fuck. So big."

You words only made his more eager, and he picked up the pace, practically slamming himself into you.

"Taking me so good. Thought about this for so long," Joel confessed, "Thought about what you'd look like wrapped around my cock. Imagined how you'd scream when I fucked you." He was rambling too, the feel of you squeezing him ever time he pulled out like you were sucking him back in so he couldn't escape made him feral. He groaned, mumbling your name like a little prayer as he continued his brutal pace.

You would normally be embarrassed by the sounds you were making, but the way Joel obsessed over your noises you'd never felt more relaxed about letting them out. Moans, whines, grunts, the wet slapping of skin, the creak of the old headboard against the wall. You briefly felt sorry for your downstairs neighbour.

Joel pulled out and scooped you up then surprisingly, his knees shuffling a little more on the bed so he could kneel and bring you down on top of him. Even though he'd been fucking you the change of angle still touch a stretch, the slick of your dripping pussy helping you to sheath him entirely in one move. He moaned, his forehead pressed against yours now. Your heart swelled as you thought perhaps this change in angle was to appeal to the side of Joel that wanted to be close to you, that wanted affection.

You moved your hips with his own, your thighs barely able to move around him he was so buff. He gripped your ass and helped you, bouncing you up and down on him as he continued to fuck up into you. You cried out as he practically split you open, your arms clinging to him, your nails scratching his back and shoulders a little. The movement of him so close against you had the knot of orgasm building again. The brush of your nipples on his chest, the way his pelvis rubbed at an angle so perfect that it stimulated your swollen clit.

"Fuck you feel so good. You take it so good," He rambled again, his teeth and lips grazing your shoulder, "Look so good riding my dick. Shit."

"Joel, I'm gunna cum."

"Good girl. You take it baby. Take what you need. Cum on my cock. Come on sweetheart, give me one more."

And you were cumming again, gushing all over his length, walls pulsing madly on him. Your hands pulled at his hair. The feel of you had Joel panting, his grip bruising as he fucked you hard and fast through your orgasm. You were practically howling his name, your legs shaking and tears clouding your eyes.

"So good for me. Look so pretty when you cum," His hips were loosing their rhythm a little and his grunts were getting quickly and father between each other.

You could tell he was close, and even through your fucked out exhaustion you helped him along, pulling at his hair, sucking at the expanse of his neck, whispering little things for him, "Cum for me Joel, want you to cum. Love your dick in me. Love how you fuck me."

You thought you might have heard him grunt, "Mine," but you couldn't be sure because then he moaned and dragged you off him so he could cum all over your front. He collapsed on top of you, your breathing both heavy as you come down from your highs. Your bodies sticky with cum and slick and sweat. He didn't care that his own cum was all over his front now too as his head found its way to the crook of your neck. Kissing you softly, you smiled at this new bought of affection. His palms rubbing slow gentle circles on your thighs as he still had your legs around him.

"You think our neighbours are going to be mad at us for keeping em up?" You giggled a little as your fingers found their way into his hair, twisting his curls around your fingers.

He was touch starved, the mere thought of having your fingers in his hair a few days ago would have made him hard. Now, empty of his pining lust - evidence of which seemed to be all over the place - he could only think of how much he cared for you. How deeply his heart ached for you. He didn't know how to say it, but he smiled against your skin.

"Let 'em be mad."

He took you both to the bathroom to clean up, kissed every part of you as you cleaned. You loved this side of him. This gentleness. This softness. It was such a stark comparison to the man who had left bruises on your thigh mere minutes before. And the minute your body was back on the bed and your head hit the comfort of Joel's embrace you were out like a light. He kissed both your eyes and let sleep take him too.

Undisturbed with any thoughts but the man who's arms you had wrapped around you, you, unsurprisingly, slept like a baby. No dreams. No nightmares.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #last of us #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou hbo

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freshbakedbreadstick · 5 months

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No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Eight

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Forgiveness is earned, not given. And you were prepared to do whatever it takes to earn it, even if it means groveling for the rest of your life.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, grief, angst, strained relationships, arguments, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, al-anon.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: BESTIES ! ! ! i AM BACK FROM THE DEADDDDDD ! ! ! Unfortunately, i became an academic victim instead of an academic weapon this past year . Currently suffering thru a stress induced cold too LOL love that 4 me . ut the year is over n finals r done so ill be continuing this ! ! ! ! Anywaysssss only two chapters left of this series </3 breaks my heart low-key LOL I really enjoyed writing this whole thing, it was fascinating putting the emotions into this whole thing ! Quite the experience, I tell ya ! but anywayssss have a slay day !

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus @jackierose902109 (i apologize if i missed anyone new or previous!! please let me know if you were missed/wanna be added <3)

Masterlist

The tears wouldn’t stop bubbling over, leaving stains of sea salt on your cheeks that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you rubbed it with the back of your hand. At this point, your skin was raw from your scrubbing. But no matter what you did, they just wouldn’t go away.

The Al-Anon meeting had since been adjourned and slowly but surely people were shuffling out of their seats and either to the snack table for a quick swipe of donuts and coffee or straight to the door out of there. But here you were, scrubbing away fat tears that continued to roll down your cheeks, staring straight at the back of the head of a person you didn’t really know if you wanted to face at that moment.

A particularly watery group of tears clouded your vision, making you wince and snap your eyes shut before bringing both your hands up to viciously scrub them away, taking your vision from the head whom you were trained on. As you scrubbed, feeling your eyes burn and vision turn into a kaleidoscope of colors, you failed to notice the sound of someone getting up and rapidly approaching you until it was too late.

A strong hand gripped your forearm and jerked you up from your seat, making you yelp and snap your eyes open again. They stung from the sudden sunlight invading your vision, but you blinked it away, instead focusing on the person with a calloused grip dragging you out of the room with a rush that made those still sticking around gasp and glance in your direction.

You barely managed to hold yourself and your stuff together when you realized you were out the door of the room and back into the empty hallway. Carmy dropped his grip with an expression on his face that you couldn’t read at all.

“Carmy-“ you began.

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t start…. Not now….”

Carmy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking off and away from you. His shoulders started to sag, making him look so uncharacteristically… scared in front of you.

He glanced back at you, watching your mouth open and close like a fish out of water as you kept trying to stop yourself from launching into some sort of explanation or apology. He continued to watch as you leaned against the wall, your body folding it on itself as your knees got weaker and weaker. All you did was stare at him with wide, watery eyes, trying so hard not to say anything.

After some silence, Carmy looked away and spoke up, “You came.”

You swallowed the knot on your throat before nodding hesitantly.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes rimmed red.

“Why.”

You opened your mouth, ready to launch into what you wanted to say, but Carmy threw his hand up to signal you to stop. With one hand on his hip, he looked at the floor and sighed again.

“Why now? Is this an attempt for you to... to make it all better? Just like that? Listen, that might’ve worked on my brother but definitely not me.”

“No, I-“

“If you think of this as your form of retribution for everything, forget it. I don’t need your begging for forgiveness or your pity. I can’t… I can't just get over this, okay?”

“Carmy, I get that but-”

“But what? There are no amount of apologies or declarations of love for my brother in front of a group of strangers that will… that will change how i feel about this-”

“Carmy!”

He snapped his mouth shut.

With shaky legs, you stood up before him and made direct eye contact.

“I’m sorry.”

His adam's apple bobbed as he stared at you.

You took in a shaky breath, “I’m not asking for anything, okay? I just… I want to say sorry. For stressing you out. For worrying everyone. For…. for leaving. I’m sorry.”

Then, Carmy did something you haven’t seen him do in a long, long time.

He cried.

Tears spilled over his red rimmed baby blues, falling slowly, then faster and faster and faster.

With a choked breath, Carmy whispered out, “I needed you.”

“I needed you and you… you weren’t here. You ran. And I ran too.”

He shifted uncomfortably and looked away, but still whispered out his confession.

“I was so… so fucking scared. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew that I needed you here. But you got scared too. So you ran. I…”

And with that, you began to sob.

You leaned against the wall, sobbing into your hands. You could barely hear his words over the echo of your cries, but you didn’t care. And you didn’t care when people came slowly out of the meeting room, casting glances in your direction before walking away to exit the building.

“I’m sorry. I… i’m taking it out on you. But you aren’t my brother. You're you. And I needed you in the same way you needed me. But…neither of us were here for each other like we promised.”

One thing you and Carmy always did during an infamous Berzatto family dinner was sneak out of the house and into the front yard, leaning against the garage door to share a cigarette.

Whether it was Donna’s yelling that drove Carmy out or Mikey’s constant erratic personality that got you feeling overwhelmed, you both somehow managed to take a second to go outside and catch a breath at the same time.

So it became tradition to sneak out for 10 minutes before someone came looking for one or the other, to silently smoke and have a brief moment of peace.

Most of the time you were alone together, other times Natalie joined the two of you, usually just closing her eyes and leaning against the wall besides you, silent.

By the 32nd informal Berzatto Family Sneak Out, as you two dubbed it, Carmy was opening up to you. He would tell you about how life has been treating him, his struggles, and general day to day things he enjoyed. You would do the same, providing him with his own mental escape just as he did for you.

Some days he would chatter on and on in a way you didn’t normally see him do. Other days it was silence. But regardless,you enjoyed his company regardless, as he did yours.

One Christmas, the two of you were shivering in the cold but still out there in scarves and sweaters regardless.

“Shit,” you murmured and threw the cigarette down to stomp on it, foot sliding across the icy pavement.

You wobbled a bit, making Carmy snicker as you shot him a look.

“Hey uh, i got you a really cool present this year.”

You glanced at him, rubbing your hands together, “Oh yea? Owning up for last year’s mistake?”

Carmy rolled his eyes, “I swear i didn’t know you owned that sweater.”

You laughed, “I wore it during Thanksgiving!! It was right in front of you and you didn’t even notice!”

Carmy rolled his eyes and chuckled, rubbing the dark circles under them.

“Yea whatever, give me shit. But i promise this one will blow you away. I put a lot of thought into it, especially because it’s been a while since i’ve been down here…”

You hummed, looking off into the soft piles of snow glittering under the string lights, some red, others blue.

“I missed you, you know…”

Carmy sighed, throwing his cigarette down and stomping on it.

“I did too.”

You looked up at Carmy, smiling but no longer feeling your lips. He smiled back at you.

��Promise me that we'll always have these little sneak outs, yea? It keeps me from going insane on your brother,” you said with a snort.

He just chuckled, “Of course… I'll always be there for you if you’ll always be there for me… yea?”

He extended his hand out. You slapped your hand into his, shaking it with a playful grin.

“Agreed.”

Someone calls your name from inside. Mikey’s booming voice echos from the house, loud and clear like a siren call within a turbulent sea. You whip your head to the front door and giggle, “Better get going, come on Berzatto. Maybe i’ll let you have my leftover christmas cookies if you sneak me an extra piece of that tiramisu you brought.”

With that, the two of walked back into the home for the rest of the night.

You can feel his hands gently grip your shoulders, helping you up from leaning against the cold wall into his arms. His muscular arms wrapping around you, the familiar scent of spices and sweat invading your nose; a scent so remarkably Carmy.

“I’m sorry… I just really needed you… I needed you and i.. didn’t know how to ask…” He whispered into your neck, muffled.

You sobbed, staining his shirt with tears but neither of you cared as you stood there, in the empty hallway as the setting sun streamed in through stray rays.

By the time you separated from the hug, the hallway was a twilight blue. His rough hands reached up to your eyes, thumbing them away with a gentleness that made you want to cry again.

“I missed you.” you managed to say, after a long period of silence.

“I missed you too…” he murmured, eyes droopy.

It was quiet and it felt… good. It felt good to stand there, staring at the lines on one another's' faces that showed the age and the years that you missed while apart. The stories they told you of each other, of how you drifted apart. But now they showed a different story.

It felt good to be back.

“Hey uh, i have to get back… we have a, uh, bachelor’s party today…”

This made you snort, making Carmy crack a side smile.

“A bachelor’s? At The Beef? Are you that broke?”

This made him chuckle softly, “Uh, yea…”

You shook your head with a small smile, “Well, I guess you better get going then. Everyone’s waiting on you, chef.”

Carmy looked to the floor, stepping away from you as he continued to smile, “Yes chef.”

You watched through as Carmy waved to you and your parents from the backseat of their car, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly. Your mom waved enthusiastically as your dad backed out, tires scratching on the gravel underneath you.

He got smaller and smaller as you all pulled away, making your way back home with a car full of hope.

It was 6 in the morning when you got the call from Carmy.

You drove a little above the speed limit as you chewed on your bottom lip, eyes sweeping across the streets as your car lurched forward ahead of everyone else. The streets were slick from a light morning fog, rolling in with the cooler weather of fall and winter. But your skin was too hot to even realize how cold it was outside as you ran across the street from where you parked to The Beef.

You threw the back door open, causing multiple people to throw their heads around to look at you. Ebraheim nodded in your direction and Tina smiled warmly. She glanced behind her before turning back to you, beckoning you in from your stiff stance in the doorway.

You thanked her softly as you walked in, the chill from the air behind you making you shiver in your light sweatshirt and thin pants.

You found Marcus in his corner, organizing diligently as Carmy walked away from his station and to Ebraheim’s, where he held up and complained about a sparkly black bra. You giggled as you watched them, getting Carmy’s attention.

He walked swiftly around the kitchen, signaling you to follow with a nod of his head.

The two of you moved to stand in the door way leading to the front of the restaurant, watching Richie and Tina laugh before they turned, grabbing cleaning supplies. But when Richie turned and saw you, he briefly froze.

“Richie…” you said softly, crossing your arms across your chest with an arched brow. Carmy clued you in during the call, which is why you rushed here as soon as possible, worried sick about Richie.

“Hey uh…” he mumbled, sheepishly looking away from you as he scratched the back of his neck and avoided your gaze.

“Really? Jail?” you huffed.

“Come on, it was hardly even jail. I spent a night in holding, that’s it. Besides, i’ve done my penance… i’m a changed man. ” Richie said with a roll of his eyes and a choked laugh.

You rolled your eyes, only to tense up when he asked his next question, “Why are you here?”

It wasn’t meant to be accusatory, just curious considering how the last conversation had ended here. But here you were, beside Carmy who didn’t seem very upset next to you.

You looked away, clearing your throat softly, “Can we… can we talk in private about that…”

Richie visibly softened and glanced at Carmy before turning back to you, “Listen, you don't have to worry about-”

“No no no, just listen to me first, okay? Please… cousin?”

This made Richie perk up and clear his throat, “Yea yea, come uh, come out back with me then..”

The two of you made your way to the backdoor, Carmy’s eyes trained on your backs right up until the door clicked shut behind you.

“Listen Richie, I'm… I'm sorry. For… for everything. It’s…” you began, your throat drying up pretty soon after.

Richie sighed, pacing away from you for a second as you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Can i… say something…?”

You looked at him, his back turned to you. But you heard him and the slight quiver in his throat loud and clear.

“I… it’s a secret so you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He said, laughing softly.

He slowly turned to you, showing the guilt and remorse all over his face that cleared that little moment of laughter right up.

You nodded slowly, stepping forward toward him, “Yea, yea, of course….”

He hesitated, glancing up at you and analyzing every part of you for some form of dishonestly… but he found none. He only found the same eyes looking back at him, with trust glittering in them, like all those years ago.

“Okay…” he began with a shaky breath, “I…”

You leaned forward some more, nodding softly.

“I… I never once regretted loving Tiff.”

Your eyes widened.

“She… was everything to me. I don’t regret loving her… even now…”

You could feel your heart racing in your ears. The way his eyes watered slightly as his hands shook at his side made your own eyes water. But his words, his words shook you up more than anything.

“I fucked up alot with her… you know that… and… and i don’t regret it either…”

Your bottom lip quivered.

“I don’t think you should regret anything you did out of love for Mikey either… okay?”

You could only whimper, reaching forward to wrap your arms around him. He wound his arms around your own body, squeezing tightly as he did so, squishing you against him but neither of you cared.

“So don’t apologize to me, okay? I know why you ran, and I don't blame you for it either.”

“....Thank you Richie… you're the greatest friend Mikey and I could ever have…”

Richie smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “Of course, Mikey might… Mikey might not be here but I am. I’m here for you…”

“Thank you…” you tried desperately to hold back the tears.

The two of you held each other there, in the cool morning air until Richie cleared his throat and murmured, “So you and Carmy are good now? Or what the hell?”

You laughed, voice watery.

“Listen, i thought you two would fight each other out here, honestly. Wrestle like you would as kids over the last goddamn pudding cup but uh, i guess not huh.”

“No…no. We uh, talked yesterday and it… it ended pretty good i think.”

You stepped back with a sigh, brushing away a couple pesky tears, “You know Carmy, he’s not easy to forgive so I don't expect that talk to fix everything but i… I'm glad I finally grabbed the hand that was reaching out…”

Richie shook his head, “I don’t get how you two always were so buddy-buddy, you’re like exact opposites.”

You shrugged, “You don’t know Carmy like I did… like I do. We are a lot more similar than you might think.”

With that Richie chuckled and clapped his hands together, “Alright, no more slacking, we got a shit ton of prep today.”

The two of you wiped your tears away with small chuckles as you stared at one another’s puffy eyes and flushed faces, trying your best to not look like wrecks as you walked back inside with small smiles.

The day went off without a hitch, until… the fire.

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kanzakiaizen · 3 months

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NIGHTMARES - GOJO SATORU X FEM!READER

A/N: Heyy all! This is my first time writing a fic, English isn't my first language haha. I appreciate any suggestions in my asks! Enjoy lovelieesss 💖💘💗💓

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, corpses, angst to fluff, lots of comfort and fluff at the end!

2:45 am, the only sounds filled in your bedroom was you and satoru's soft breaths, the ticking of the the clock and the nighttime breeze circulating through the open window. Both of you seemed to be peaceful in your own slumber.

Suddenly, there was soft whimpering and shuffling sounds that filled the room, which in turn progressed into heavy pants and incoherent blabbers. Those (un)usual sounds made you to jolt up in your bed suddenly, only to find out that, that was coming from your boyfriend satoru. Even though still dizzy from suddenly jolting up from the slumber, you knew what was happening.

His lovely features had panic induced upon it, his forehead had beads of sweat trickling down, his gorgeous white hair all dampened by his sweat, and his closed eyes filled with unshed tears. His chest heaving up and down due to his heavy breathing. Both of his hands gripping the sheets. All this indicated, he was scared of something.

You on the other hand, called out his name softly "satoru" He was still immersed in what he was dreaming. You rolled to his side, and shook him slightly, "satoru, baby, wake up". He still did not. You shook him a little harder and called him again, your tone raised a bit higher "satoru!"

He jolted up panting, his eyes darting all over the room to make sure where he really was. After a few seconds of looking around, he looked at you, you we're still there sitting next to him, holding his hands, you tightened your grip around his hand, gently. He heard your soft voice "satoru you're alright baby. I'm here". He realised he was safe. You were safe. Both are safe and sound in your home, in your bedroom, together.

He turned around, his back facing you and sat up on the corner of the bed, trying to steady his breathing, still holding onto your hand. You were next to him, giving him time to feel normal again. "Nightmare again baby?" You asked softly, he hesitated at first, then nodded his head. "Honey, I'll bring you some water, wait here" You said and went to the kitchen to bring a glass of water and wet cloth to wipe his sweat.

"Here, drink it honey" You handed him the glass of water. Then, you brushed his dampened hair up, and wiped his forehead with the wet cloth, then his neck. Throughout, he stayed quiet, lost in thought. You sat next to him, your hands on his shoulder.

"Honey" You called out, but he wasn't paying attention to you. You called his name again "satoru" And shook his shoulder slightly. He then turned his head towards you, "u-uh, y-yeah baby?"

"You don't seem okay baby" You were really worried about his state. You knew he had this issue for a long time since when he had started going on missions back in high school. It terrified you out. He really was strong to deal with nightmares and putting on a smile and an all time upbeat personality in the daytime.

Poor satoru, being in the jujutsu society isn't easy. Being the strongest wasn't easy. Not showing any sign of weakness wasn't easy. Constantly putting on the façade of 'the strongest' was stressing him out. Watching people die everyday while exorcising the curses was too traumatizing to experience.

"It's okay sweets, I-I'm fine.... Let's go back to sleep" He gave you a soft smile, which you knew was fake. Even though he seems he's calmed down, there's a raging storm in his chest, which he doesn't seem to get rid of any sooner. He thought maybe going back to sleep will help, but no.

You smiled back, and ruffled his hair. "Honey, I know how you're feeling right now. It's not okay satoru. It might get worse.... Do you wanna talk about it?" He hesitated. You continued "is it about me honey?”. That's when his heart picked up the pace again, pounding heavily. His breath hitched, and turned his head away.

He stuttered, "s-sweets, it was, a-act-actually you" His eyes began to tear up. You hugged him "satoru, I'm right here, I'm okay, I'm here baby", "I-I know, b-but it felt so so real sweets, I can't-" "Honey, look at me, I'm still here"

You couldn't forget the fact that he was blabbering incoherent words and your name clearly. You sighed and pecked his cheek, hugging him. Finally, he let his tears fall. Gently, you layed back, pulling him towards you. His head layed on your chest, your arms embraced him, one around his head and one rubbing his back.

He in turn put his arms around you. He layed on you, putting his entire weight upon and his feet dangling outta the bed. He hugged you tighter and sobbed really hard, that broke your heart. "Honey, you're alright, I'm here" Your consoles weren't heard by him. You kissed his hair and rubbed his back soothingly.

He needed to cry it all out, so you let him. Even though, this man is turning 30 this year, this 6'3" man still in your arms crying his heart out, like a child whose favorite toy has broken into pieces.

"Y-you know what happened? It felt so real, I was carried away with that dream.... " You couldn't help but smile at the way he's blabbering like a baby right now. "Honey, whatever happened isn't real. Don't think about it again and again. We both are here next to each other, that's what matters right now"

"If I tell you what happened, you'd leave me. Alone. In this big house" He frowned like a baby again. You had that audacity to chuckle at him. "Toru, why would I leave you? You're my everything! I love you so much, no matter what. I'm not leaving you, yeah?" His stared at you with eyes wide open. "Okay do you wanna tell me what happened?" he hugged you tighter "yeah.... We both got into an argument for such a silly reason, I don't even remember what was that... A-and you screamed at me and left the house" His breath hitches and he continue "I searched for you everywhere... Yet I couldn't find you, your weren't receiving my calls either... Then yaga called me for a mission and I went there. It was suguru who was again there to kill innocent people, I thought you returned home... But”

His eyes started to tear up again, and he continued "you were on the ground next to him... *sobs* your blood scattered every where on the ground, *sobs* your head was separated from your b-body and you had a big hole through your belly and your legs we're dislocated from your body *sobs* I cried and held onto you to come back, I begged you to come back alive and you were gone... Leaving me alone in this world... I couldn't let you go *sobs* I wanted you back..."

There he was again crying like a baby, holding onto you like you're his oxygen and crying his heart out. He hugged him tighter, you lifted his head off your chest and wiped his tears away. "Honey, look at me. I'm not injured. Wherever you saw me injured or dislocated, it's all fine satoru. I'm still alive and safe. Look here"

He swiftly caressed your cheeks and slid it down to you neck. Then he got off you to check your belly, and then your legs caressing them like a piece of glass which might crack if he wasn't easy on you. He sighed realising you we're safe, and went back to laying down on you.

He kissed your chest and hugged you. "Promise me you won't leave me after seeing me act like this" You smiled at his childish behavior and replied "baby why would I leave you? Just because you opened up to me about what bothered you isn't gonna make me leave you, but instead make me fall in love for you more and more baby, you're my baby, my satoru. You're not the strongest to me, only satoru, just Satoru Gojo to me. My one and only"

"Really?" He couldn't believe what he heard. "What did I do to deserve you? You're too good for me" He sighed. "No baby, we're meant to be". "You won't feel bad that I get nightmares and am disturbing you all the time, right? I'm sorry if it's bothering you... You can leave me if you can't bear with me... Actually you deserve better.... "

You could help but get amused and laugh at what he said. He stared at you wide eyed waiting for you to finish laughing. "The great, the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru who's carrying the entire jujutsu society, is now here in my arms crying his eyes out blabbering like a baby over a dream is sure ridiculous. But leaving you just because of that isn't gonna make me happy. You're my satoru, I love you. I'll bear anything with you. If I'm not, then who will? Satoru don't joke about leaving you alone. You need someone. I know you're strong enough to deal with your life, but in the end you really need someone baby. Everybody does. And I need someone too. And so here we are, we need each other. We share everything, that's what relationships are meant to be satoru"

".... Yeah" He said. You again began to giggle at him, and he I turn smiled sheepishly at you. Inturn giggling with you. And there he was, your boyfriend back with that silly smile on his face, which he doesn't seem to wipe off whenever he's with you.

"You know, I really love you" He pecked your lips. "Ooh someone just told me to leave him alone in a big house just because he cried like a baby over a dream, you're such a big baby" You jokingly cooed at him with a smirk. He pouted "exactly, who mocks a baby when he's crying and needs consolation? You. You are bad, bad".

You couldn't help but laugh heartily. He loved hearing you laugh. He was still pouting regardless of the fact he loves it. His pouty expression makes you laugh more and more. Along with you, he starts to laugh, letting his pouty façade down.

You kissed him on the forehead and hugged him. He hugged back. You made sure to cherish that moment forever. You both went back to bed, cuddling with each other under the sheets. This head on your chest and your fingers going through his hair. You loved him so much. He loved you so much.

"I love you, I never thought you'd even fall for me before" Should I mention another giggle leaving your mouth? "Satoru, how can someone not fall for you? You're so beautiful by looks and by heart, who doesn't want you honey?"

He smiled and kissed you. This time, it was a passionate one, the one that was filled with all the adoration and love in the world that he could give you. He would burn the whole world for you. He'd sacrifice anything to be with you. You on the other hand would kill anyone to be with him, he was the only one you needed. You couldn't imagine someone else in his place. He was special and you we're special to him.

He always somehow manages to give you butterflies everytime you kiss. You wanted to know how was that possible. He would never replace you, and you would never replace him. You both are meant to be together forever and eternally.

You both kissed each other good night and went to sleep cuddling.

EPILOGUE

The next morning, when just woke up, he was thinking about how he kissed you at midnight yesterday and he wanted to kiss you again. He was disappointed only to find out you woke up without him. He groaned and shuffled. He got up and went into the kitchen, only to find a note that says 'satoru, I'm sorry I had to leave early today since I promised my friend to join her to hang out with her today! I'll be home by 6! I'll bring you kikufukus today evening! See ya!' He let out a 'tsk' sound.

He was grumpy the entire day. He did not showcase his signature smirk on his face the entire day and his face displayed a stoic expression. His students seemed amused by this new behavior of their teacher. Well where were you actually the entire day?

You we're actually preparing a surprise birthday party in your house. But you we're still purchasing gifts and stuffs, so by the time he reaches home you'll be prepared. Poor satoru, he even forgot it's his birthday.

It was time, so you hurried home and kept everything ready. He was still grumpy when he stepped inside the house. It was dark. But you had told him you'll be back by 6, right? He began to panic. Suddenly the lights were all switched on and there was everyone in his house. Principal yaga, all of his students and his colleagues."happy birthday sensei!!" Yuji cheerfully wished him. But you were missing. He smiled at all of them but his eyes we're searching for you.

Someone hugged him from behind which made him jolt, who was none other than you. "Happy birthday Satoru!" And here he was, you boyfriend, back again with that silly smile. "Thank you sweets" He pecked you. "I never expected this, but you're the best I've ever had" His voice was so sincere, and not that usual smug tone. You hugged him and kissed him passionately. His students were made to turn towards the wall, and everyone else distracted themselves for you both to finish whatever you we're doing.

That evening was the best he ever had in his life. The best birthday ever!

A/N: I know I wasn't the best, but I tried my best to write it! Hope you enjoy! 💟💟💟💟

#jjk anime #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk spoilers #satosugu #gojo satoru x reader #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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