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calumfmu · 2 months

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arms of a careful lover

You didn't know how he was, the stranger driving you home. He knew you, knew all about your life, and his picture-perfect ideal of you. As you traveled through the town of Hawkins, you couldn't help, but ask yourself 'Who The Fuck is Eddie Munson'?

cw: smut, sexual tension, riding, oral, AFAB reader, fem!reader, p in v sex, cursing, etc. 4.9k+ words.

The music in the dark bar room was overpowering, filling your senses, tingling in the back of your mind. It was hot—sticky, your clothes not sparing you the freedom of movement as your leather dress felt glued to your skin. You had lost your friend at one point, hearing something about ‘another drink’ about half an hour ago.

Searching for her in the dark red lighting was impossible, faces blending together as the alcohol seeped into their bloodstream. Your back hit firm muscle, two ringed hands coming up to stop you from tumbling onto the wet floor.

Turning around, you were met with the deepest shade of brown you could think of, long lashes encasing them. His hair was long, curly and full, bangs sticking to his forehead with the dampness of the air.

“You alright?” The stranger shouted over the music, the dull thud of the bass banging in your chest. You nodded dumbly, a ghost of a smile on your face as you stood in front of him.

A look similar to your own crept up on his face, smile lines forming on his cheeks as he blinked down at you.

“I’m such a dunce sometimes,” you laughed, voice raised as you leaned into him. Strong cologne hit you, a faint hint of marijuana seeping out of his clothes. “Sorry, man.”

The man shook with a silent laugh, his head swaying side to side as he excused you. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He moved to leave, hands leaving your shoulders as he stepped to your side. Disappointment tugged at your emotions, teeth gritting as you watched him walk away from you. You called after him, a shouted ‘wait!’ getting lost in the crowd as you watched him disappear into throes of people. His scent lingered in the air, the smell of strong aftershave the only memory you have of him.

Seemingly dumbfounded you stood there for a second, lip jutted out as you searched for sight of him again, standing on your toes as you looked through the crowds. He was long gone by now, a stranger in the darkness as you gave up, sigh escaping you.

Making your way to the front of the building, you stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit your body. A bouncer was out front, arms clasped in front of him as he stared in front of him, unfocused on anything in particular.

“Got a pay phone?” You asked, following the direction in which he pointed. A few feet away, it stood. Picking it up, you pressed it to your ear, silence meeting you as there was no dial tone. Finger hitting the switch, you grew frustrated, realizing the phone wasn’t in working order.

Storming back over to the bouncer, you pointed a finger at him.

“Why would you not tell me it doesn’t work?”

He shrugged, choosing not to look at you as his gaze remained hard. As you took a step towards the building, his hand shot out to stop you, opposite hand pointing at a huge sign to his left.

‘NO RE-ENTRY’, the sign read, in bold, red letters. Closing your eyes in frustration, you silently cursed him. You walked away, hand dipping into your purse as you searched for cash, hopes of getting a cab sitting in your chest. That feeling disappeared as you realized your wallet had been snagged at a point in the night, your fingers coming up empty.

Leaning against the side of the building, your leg was kicked up to support you, heeled boot digging into the chipped brick. Your arms were crossed in front of you, palms rubbing over your arms to warm yourself up.

A few people piled out of the bar, the hour ticking closer and closer to closing time. Thirty minutes had to have passed, no sight of your friend amongst the people leaving. As you watched the group of strangers, the same boy from before—the pretty one—walked in front of you, hair flowing behind him as he tossed a pair of keys into the air.

“Hey!” You shouted, kicking off of the wall to jog up to him. He turned, confused as the click of your boots hit the asphalt. You waved a hand at him, the sting of the cold air reddening your cheeks.

He looked at you in anticipation, face turned up in confusion as you stopped in front of him, weight shifting from side to side.

“You think you could spare me a ride?” You asked, feeling bold in front of this stranger. He looked at you up and down, then sent a quick glance around himself.

“Are you talking to me?” His voice was deep, deeper than you expected.

Laughing, you nodded, pointing to his keys. He glanced at them, gaze lingering as confusion was still evident on his face.

“My friend ditched me, and my mom’s going to kill me if I’m not back before her night shift ends,” you said, beginning to shake as the cold air hit your exposed skin. The leather mini dress you were sold on earlier didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment. “So… please?”

He stayed silent, eyes studying you as you looked around, watching people move around the parking lot. It was growing windy at this point, fallen leaves stirring on the ground. People began to make haste, rushing into cars as the weather worsened.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, voice quick as he took a step back from you. Your heart sank, rejection souring your taste. “Sorry, man.”

He pressed his lips together in an apology to you, turning around quickly as he began to walk away. His converse scuffed at the ground, hands dipping his pockets as he made it a few feet in front of you.

Watching him walk away made your heart ache, your escape plan from this desolate area getting further away. You didn’t know what you were going to do at this point, money lost, not a single phone in sight. Walking wasn't an option, the buildings of the inner city miles away from you.

As you began to turn away, the man’s pace slowed, feet coming to a halt as his back was turned to you. Head cocking to the side, you stood confused, watching as his head tilted up to look at the night sky. You heard him mumble something from the few feet away, foot stomping underneath him before he turned back around, eyes making contact with yours.

His gaze was sincere as you waited for him to say something, his fingers curling at his sides as he looked full of nerves.

“I live on Millrose,” you shouted to him, seeing his teeth begin to chew at his bottom lip. Nodding, he sighed, hand beckoning you closer.

You followed his instruction, smug smile crossing your face as you approached him.

“Just promise not to kill me?” He said as the two of you began to walk towards a van. You laughed, quickly glancing at him as you took sight of the dark vehicle.

“You seem to be projecting.”

Snorting out a laugh, his key unlocked the passenger door, his hand coming out to swing it open for you. With the door open, you turned towards him, looking up at him as his height towered over yours.

“I mean, look at me,” You said, hand resting on your hip. “I don’t think I’d do much damage.”

He seemed nervous in the moment, eyes moving quickly as they flitted over your body. His eyelids fluttered rapidly as he gulped slightly, fingers tapping against the open door.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you slid into the seat, heart beating faster as the door closed behind you.

He drove fast. Metallica blasting over the stereo as his fingers drummed against the steering wheel. You gripped the safety handle, hand pressed to the dash as he maneuvered the streets of Hawkins. A prayer sat on the edge on your lips, curses instead flowing out whenever he took too sharp a turn.

“What brings you out here?” He said over the music, hand shooting out to lower it. You briefly glanced at him, heart lunging as he slammed the brake at a stop sign.

“The band,” you began, tugging at your seatbelt to make sure it was secured. “It was the last show I heard they’re playing in Indiana, and I missed the one last year.”

He threw a face at you, mouth wide open. “The band?”

You matched his expression, growing self conscious at his question. “What about it?”

“I dunno if I believe you,” he scoffed, head shaking. “I’ve never heard of a girl like you into heavy metal, its, like, impossible, man.”

It was your turn to laugh, a small gasp coming up as he sped up to run a yellow light. His words confused you, the ‘like you’ lingering in your mind. He barely made it, red flashing briefly as he crossed the intersection.

“Hate to break it you, but…” Your voice dropped to a low whisper, leaning into him as you raised your hand, fingers wiggling in the air as if you were casting a spell. “We exist.”

A blush crossed his face, cheeks filling as his eyes squinted up.

“Okay, okay… don’t make me sound like a total jerk here.”

“You did it to yourself. I’m just saying.” Your tone was light as you teased him, enjoying the way his face lit up at your jokes.

He was quiet for a moment, car rolling to a stop as a red light ticked in the dark. No cars passed by, the only sign of life being a street sweeping crew, cleaning an area of the downtown side walk in the late hours. You chose to relax in that moment, sinking into the soft cushion of the seat.

“If you’re into the same things as me, how come you’ve never said hi?” His voice was almost inaudible. Glancing at him, his eyes were fixated on the red light, waiting for it to change. That same light look was on his face still, eyebrows slightly raised as humour grazed his features. You waited for the punchline to drop, this stranger in front of you urging nothing out of you.

“What d’you mean?”

“At school,” he said, making eye contact with you as you stared into his eyes. You furrowed your brow, trying to recognize him.

“You go to Hawkins?” You don’t remember ever seeing him, memory sifting through faces you see on a daily basis. Nothing rings a bell, not a single recollection of ever seeing the boy before.

He laughed at you, turning back to the road as he pressed the gas. The van sputtered as it accelerated, gravel crushing as he continued through downtown.

“We have, like, three classes together, Yn,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief as your mouth dropped open. Heat began to colour your cheeks. “You’re friends with Carol, Tommy H. Hawkins royalty, man.”

His voice dropped to a mocking tone as he relayed the names, continuing his speech, “I’m just surprised you’d even be caught dead at something like this.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to think of what to say. Swallowing around nothing, you turned your body towards the dash.

“Let alone caught with me. Imagine what the school would say… what the town would say,” his hand rose to move in front of him, as if he was reading a line from a newspaper. “Resident sweetheart led to murder van of town freak, Eddie Munson. Read more, page six.”

You let out a giggle, his own laughter in harmony with your own.

“Oh shut up, that would never happen.” You didn’t acknowledge the fact that there was a bit of truth in what he said, your popularity did threaten to be shattered if anyone even knew you enjoyed the metal sound of music.

A look was shot your way, his eyes rolling at your words.

“You know it’s the truth,” he said, turning onto a main road. “Such a shame, we never got to hang out. If I knew you were cool, maybe my idea of you would’ve changed earlier.”

Your eyes ran over him, watching the way his curly hair sat over his shoulders, a thick mane that accentuated his manly features. You imagined what it might have been like to know him on a different level, to have met him under different circumstances. His words had you thinking, wondering what idea of you remained in his mind.

“Hey… you said Millrose, right? We should be 10 minutes out,” he threw at you, looking for confirmation.

A beat passed, you slow blinking at him as you failed to nod.

“Yn?”

Clearing your throat, your heart began to race as you spoke your next words, “We could hang out now at your place.”

The vehicle swerved slightly to the right, an over correction that had you slamming into the door. Hissing, you pushed against it, seeing the way Eddie whipped his head to you.

“Huh?” His voice was tight, a slightly higher pitch.

You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know it’s almost 2 am, but I don’t have to be home for a few more hours,” you said, voice small as you anticipated his rejection. You didn’t know why you felt nervous, asking out boys was your thing. “We could make up for lost time.”

He didn’t know what to say for a moment, face contorting as he processed your suggestion. You couldn’t help but know that your words had a different meaning, the late hours of the night not welcoming just a friendly conversation.

“You.” He pointed a ringed finger to you, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Want to come to my place.” The finger turned on himself, digging into the white of his shirt. His question turned into a statement, disbelief evident.

“I have, like, 6 siblings,” you laughed, shaking that idea out of your mind. “There’s no way you’re coming to mine.”

“You want to come to my place?” He repeated his question, voice higher as he drove. Glancing at the streets, you knew the direction had changed, him driving towards his own place before his mind could even catch up.

“Eddie, if you say that one more time-” Your laughter kicked up as he punched the gas, speeding down the dark streets of Hawkins. He seemed to have caught up now, words getting lost in his throat.

Before you knew it, a trailer lot appeared in the distance, homes scattered in various places, clotheslines hanging between them. You had never been in this part of town before, your ignorance not allowing you to realize that people did have vacancies here.

Eddie saw your wandering gaze, rolling to a stop in front of his place. Nervous in his own rite, he reached up to twist a curl between his fingers.

“Well, it’s not the Four Seasons, but my uncle’s out,” he said, glancing at anything but you. You smiled at his anxiousness, finding it endearing.

“I don’t care about that kind of stuff, Eddie.”

He scoffed at your words, eyes rolling with humour as he jumped out of the van. You followed his lead, stumbling slightly as the gravel crunched under your boots. Following him up to the door, you noticed the way he fumbled with his keys, having to try two, three times to get it unlocked.

It was spacious inside, dark furniture and fishing hats littering the walls. You could tell it was a man cave, the sign of a woman missing for years. Walking over to a framed picture on a side table, you ran your fingers over it, Eddie standing in front of tree with a serious look, head cocked to the side with a black DIO shirt on.

His throat cleared behind you, Eddie scratching at the back of his head as he tried to subtly kick a discarded shirt underneath a desk, out of your vision.

“You want something? Uh, water? Alcohol, weed, anything?” He scrambled towards the kitchen area, fridge thrown open as he rifled through the contents. Glasses clinked together, something falling as he cursed.

Taking a seat on the couch, you shook your head. “I don’t do any of that.”

His head popped up over the counter separating you, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. The fridge swung shut behind him as he looked around, slowly making his way over to you.

He stood in front of you, your heart racing as you looked at him through long lashes. The angle had you appreciating his beauty, cut short as he moved to sit.

“But… you’re friends with…”

“Doesn’t mean shit. It’s not my thing,” you shrugged, placing both hands on your knees. He nodded, an awkward silence settling on you two.

A small smile crossed your face, the awkward air lingering heavy on you two. Eddie whistled, sighing periodically as you glanced around the place, hands tapping on your exposed legs. You didn’t know how much time had passed, Eddie settling his back against the couch as you sat upright.

“What did you think of me?”

“Why did you want to come here?”

You and Eddie spoke at the same time, your words becoming jumbled over each other as you shared a deep shade of red of your cheeks. Making eye contact, he let out a chuckle, hand motioning to you. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, laughing silently at the situation.

“You first.”

The words were shared again, both of your voices intertwining. Eddie jokingly rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you as he lowered his voice. You noticed his lips were bright red, becoming wet as his tongue darted out briefly.

“Okay, now this is getting weird.” He stretched his legs in front of him, foot bumping against yours before you snatched it back, heart racing at the contact. He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your leg.

“You first,” you answered, trying to cover it up as you cleared your throat. You turned your body towards him, leg tucked underneath you as one elbow was propped up on the back of the couch. “I’m the guest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he tried, but failed miserably at trying not to stare at you. His deep eyes running over your exposed collarbones.

“I wanted to come here because I want to get to know you. You seem… cool.” Your own words failed at your attempt to remain normal, noticing the way his chest hitched slowly when you outstretched your hand, fingers running over the small stretch of the couch between you.

“Just cool?” Glancing down at his mouth once again, you turned to look away as he noticed the movement. He seemed more nervous after the gesture, repeating the motion of his tongue over his lip. His head cocked even further, legs widening as he settled further into the couch.

You nodded, mind blanking as you looked at him. Subconsciously, you scooted closer to him, the tension between the two of you thickening. His head leaned back against the couch, the expanse of his neck looking enticing in the moment.

"And what did you think of me?" You asked, curious at his statement earlier. 'My idea of you would've changed' kept repeating in your head, not sure whether or not you should feel offended or not by it. It's not like you should care anyways, this man did not exist to you a couple of hours ago, but you did. You had wished you met this man earlier, your temptation to have him pulling at your core.

"I thought..." His voice trailed off, kicking up at the end of the word as your hand brushed his thigh. Glancing down quickly, you repeated the motion, manicured hand coming up to tug at one of his belt loops. You felt bold, nerves leaving you as you realized he may have wanted this too. Whatever this was.

"What did you think?" You asked again, eyes trained on the jean material beneath your finger tips. You dipped a finger in his pocket, tugging on it as his hips shifted beneath your touch. A bulge was becoming present, material growing tighter. A blush covered your cheeks, nerves returning again as you refused to make eye contact.

"That, uh..." He cleared his throat, bringing a finger to his mouth to sink his teeth into. The hand smacked into his thigh, chocked, sharp inhale being taken. "Thought you were a good girl, you know? Miss, uh, goody two-shoes."

You laughed at his words, hand grazing quickly over his bulge. He took an even sharper inhale, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp. Looking up at him through your lashes, you smirked.

"You still think that, Eddie?" Your voice was a whisper, cutting through the air as he made eye contact with you. His tongue poked at the corner of his mouth, running over his teeth as he gave a quick shake of his head.

A beat passed between the two of you, Eddie's hungry stare bore into your own, your hand still on his thigh. You opened your mouth to speak, teeth bumping into your bottom lip as you stumbled over the words to say.

Eddie lunged at you, hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as you moaned, sitting up on your knees to get better access. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, messy as you climbed over him, swinging a leg over his lap. Moving with a fervor, he licked into your mouth, giant hands cupping your jaw, your hands running over his chest as you pulled at the vest he wore. Wrapping an arm around you, he didn't pull from the kiss as he sat up, allowing you to yank the material off of his body.

You grinded against him, leather mini dress pushed up to your hips as the thick jean material ground into you. Eddie groaned, pulling away slightly to reach down to unbutton his jeans.

His fingers fumbled as he struggled, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. You tugged at his hair, licking up the breathy moans he let out at each pull.

"You ever done something like this before, Eddie?" You breathed against his mouth, pulling up your dress as the button popped loose. His hands paused as his eyes shot open to look at you, panting, heavy out of breath.

He nodded, leaning back into the couch as you pressed a hand to his chest. Raising, he went to kiss you again, only to be pushed down as you gyrated your hips over his.

He whined at the touch, curses flowing from his lips as he placed his hands on your hips, guiding the motion. A wave of heat was sent to your core, wetness dampening the thin material of your underwear.

He nodded at your question, hair shaking in all different directions as you bounced slightly, enjoying the way he fit perfectly in the dip of your pussy.

"Yea-yeah, I have," he said, and you weren't sure if he was lying. Smirking, you raised to your knees, lifting your bum to pull his pants down his hips. He followed your movement, hips raising as the material slid down his thighs. Stopping mid-thigh, you pulled his boxers down, mouth watering at the sight of his cock, swollen and red at the head, dripping in anticipation.

"You want to show me?" You asked, getting off of him to kneel in front. You placed both hands on his thighs, mouth opening to drool against him. Eddie moaned at the feeling, hand coming up to grip at your hair. "Since I'm such a good girl and all?"

"You're such a fuckin-" He began to say before lacing his fingers behind your head, urging your mouth on his cock. You tried laughing around it, mouth full as he pushed you down. Closing your eyes, you choked on him, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

Fucking into your mouth, he let out chocked gasps, head being thrown back as his hands guided your mouth. The pace was too quick, wetness dripping down your chin, onto his balls, the entire ordeal becoming more and more messy. Your eyes rolled back, loving the way he was using you, squelching of his cock in your mouth filling the air.

"Fuck," he moaned, hips pumping up to meet the guidance of his hands half way. You flattened your tongue, gagging loudly as he shoved all the way in. "If anyone could see you right now."

You moaned louder, hand leaving his thigh as you reached down between your legs. You were dripping wet, underwear soaked as he fucked your mouth. Rubbing small circles against your clit, you couldn't help but begin to thrust your own hips against your hand.

"You're so- ah, shit, your mouth feels so g- so fucking good," he moaned, thrusts becoming more rapid. Your fingers against your own clit sped up to match his pace, white hot pleasure filling your body with warmth.

"I'm gonna-" He whined, pulling you off of him with a yank of your hair. Your mouth was half open in a smirk, saliva dripping off of your chin as you looked up to him. His gaze grew dark, eyes rolling in pleasure as he pulled you up to him.

His cock pressed against his abdomen, angry red at the ruined orgasm.

"I need you to cum inside me," you whispered, crawling up to him as you settled in his lap once again. His hands found your hips, your underwear pushed to the side as you hovered over him.

Cock nudging inside you, the two of you mewled at the feeling, you stretched wide with a burn, him encased in the warmness of your cunt. You sank onto him, firmly seated in his lap, his hands rubbing small circles onto your lower back.

His shirt was still on, white tee pushed up to his chest as he sank lower on the couch. You adjusted to the feeling of him, pressing your lips to his as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

"I can't- I have to move- I'm gonna-" His words didn't make sense, coming out jumbled as you began to ride him, hips moving up and down on his cock as pants escaped his lips. The head of his cock nudged deep against that sensitive spongy spot, your moans becoming louder.

With your head thrown back in ecstasy, you couldn't help, but lean in towards that white hot feeling lingering in your abdomen. Eddie began to thrust underneath you, meeting you halfway as you became more cock drunk.

"You're so perfect, fuck, you're so perfect, so perfect," he muttered praises under his breath, eyebrows knitted together as he picked up his pace. The sound of slapping skin dominated in the room, grunts and your high pitched moans following close behind.

"Eddie," you drawled out his name, the last thrust sending you over the edge, your orgasm shaking your legs as he fucked you through it. You seated yourself on him, hands pressed to his chest as you hunched over, head pressed into the white cotton, hips moving on their own as he stuttered his hips.

His own orgasm followed short, a low moan that he breathed into your hair, your name on his lips. Catching your breath, you whimpered at the feeling of him sinking even further into you, jumping up at your cervix being pressed.

"Here, I'm sorry, here," he spoke in small phrases as he lifted you off of him, moving in one motion to pull his boxers up and lay you next to him. You rested your cheek against his thigh, curling into yourself as you tried pulling your dress down over your ass with one hand.

His hand ran over your back, small circles over the length of skin as you leaned into the touch. You angled your head to look at him, giggling as he stared down at you, fucked out look on his face.

"Was that okay?" You asked, turning so you laid on your back. He nodded dumbly, hair following over his face.

"That was perfect, man," he smiled sheepishly as you laughed, hand coming up to smack his chest at the name he threw you. He was so Eddie, the new character that you happened across.

"We should, uh.. go out," he confessed, nerves returning to his face as you looked up at him. Your eyebrows shot up at the offer, his face covered in horror as he tried to clear up what he just said. "Not like now, no, no, no--not now. Unless you'd want to- but, no... we could, uh... maybe it's a bad idea."

You sat up, pressing a kiss to his mouth as he stumbled through his words. Feeling him relax into you, his breathing evened, lips moving languidly. Pulling away, you rubbed your thumb against his cheekbone, smiling at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with his own matching smile.

"I want to," you said, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. He blushed, smug look crossing his face as his tried to conceal his beam of affection. "You better wine and dine me after this. I didn't put out for nothing."

He laughed again, kissing you as his arms come to embrace you. "How does a shitty dive bar sound?"

Grin wide with the expanse of your teeth, you shook your head at him, "Sounds perfect, Munson."

an: first Eddie fic, lets celebrate, woooo. its a quick one (in my terms, you know I love the buildup). but lmk if this is something that you guys want more of.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #fanfic #smut #I took a page from his scene w Chrissy #hope y’all enjoy #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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sykosugu · 2 months

Text

on the run | prologue

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ currently: completed

♡ taglist: closed

♤ wc: 1.4 k (they will get longer I promise)

♢ carlile speaks: hi everyone! welcome! I was working on chapter one, and the mood boards (yes boards, there are two more bc I'll do anything to avoid writing even though I love doing it) and this idea popped in to kind of give you a beginning thought as to how they officially met. But chapter one is coming! enjoy this little insight, and I know it definitely is little right now!

you are here | next part

Seventy seconds. That’s all you had until the silent alarm blared at the local police station. But lucky for you, you only need thirty of those seconds to get what you needed. A simple in and out procedure was always how you operated.

In through the front door, dressed to impress. A Bag under your arm and an umbrella in your hand. The umbrella is the key. Literally.

Bank managers always approach you from first entry, wanting to impress someone who looks so lavish; we must keep our high end customers happy. You’re led to the safety deposit room, with the intent of placing your precious jewels into a box.

Until the handle of the umbrella is twisted and a knife is drawn.

The knife held to the manager's throat while he opened every single box he could in the 30 second time span. But you know exactly which boxes to open. You've been surveying this area for weeks now. Camera hacking. One of your specialties. Every customer who entered this room in the last month, you’d seen and known what to take. Totally under wraps; never to be seen until the job needed done.

When the managers think they can overpower a girl like yourself, the gun stashed in your waistband makes its appearance, deftly putting the men in their places.

This was always how you operated. Never the cash; always the safety deposit boxes. Sometimes the items placed inside were of monetary value, but some were of unmatched value; precious family heirlooms that could get ransomed for way more than any cash vault would hold. That’s always what you were after. Sometimes, jewels were involved and that was a plus. A girl can never have too many diamonds. They are your best friends after all. But the ransomed heirlooms, some of kings and queens of the corporate world: that was your MO. You were the Red Queen.

Were.

Suguru was not something you’d anticipated. Suguru was your biggest flaw. He was now your weakness. But he was also the enemy.

He’d been tracking you for months; been minutes from you so many times. You were his biggest project that he’d never been able to get his hands on. You were a myth at this point. Never actually seen, except by the bank managers who were never able to give a good enough description.

“She had big sunglasses, bright red lipstick and a killer smile.”

He knew that much. That was it.

Until now.

He had you.

You walked out five seconds too late.

He had you.

A hand harshly grips the back of your upper arm, spinning you around. Your fist instinctively reaches up, elbow colliding with the person in question; a cracking sound fills the air as your arm connects with their face. You’d successfully knocked their head back. Killing was never your objective when it came to defending yourself, a body leads to problems. You don’t have time for problems. Suguru’s used to combat though, with gritted teeth he takes the blow. Cracking his neck, his other hand reaches to grasp your other arm, flinging you down onto his car's hood as pedestrians continue on their day. Most stop for the show, but others see the badge hanging from his neck and don’t question anything. Your back comes in contact with the car, your head bouncing off the surface; ears ringing from the loud bang. Your arms are braced in front of you as you feel the handcuffs being placed around your hands.

He had you.

Nobody could ever get you. You were like a ghost in the nighttime; but he found you out. Who was this guy? Why does it kind of turn you on? But it also definitely terrifies you.

“We finally meet,” he grins down at you. “I’m Detective Geto, and you’ve been my biggest foe for almost a year,” You just stare back at him. “But you can call me Suguru.”

You were in the back of his car in minutes. Hands cuffed in front of you while he stared at you in the rearview mirror. Unbeknownst to you until now, he’d lied about catching you. He said you’d gotten away again.

He watched you walk into the bank this time. He was the one who was ahead. He finally had the upper hand.

And he liked it.

“No, sir. She got away again.” you heard him say flatly in the front seat. “Yes, sir, I get that but if–” he stops, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes. “Sir, if i can just speak for a minute,” you can hear yelling through the speaker, but no words can be made out.

Why isn't he telling him you’re right here? What is going on?

“Sir, I had her. She got away. I’ll get her again.,” he pauses again, “Yes sir, I understand. Thank you, Chief. I got it. I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

He’ll handle what? What is happening?

Suguru’s eyes catch yours in the mirror. “You’ve been eluding me for the longest time, Y/N. Or should I say The Red Queen.”

“Call me Ruby. I don’t use that name anymore,” you mutter. Unsure why you’re even responding. What does he want with you? He lied about you to his boss.

“Ruby,” he swirls the name around his tongue, “Pretty,” and he’s starting the car.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, fingers reaching down to pull one of the bobby pins from your boot. You’re always prepared.

“Even if you free yourself, the doors are locked,” he smirks at you in the mirror. You catch his gaze, offering him a glare. “I’m not a threat to you. Not right now.”

What the hell does that mean?

“You’re literally a cop, and you’re not telling me where you’re taking me.”

“I just want to talk to you before I decide what to do next,” his eyes fixed on the road again. You notice the white in his knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He’s nervous. You could use that to your advantage. Wherever he was taking you, you were going to use your biggest asset: yourself; to get what you needed.

Your freedom. Your biggest job was coming up soon, and you needed to be prepared.

This cop obviously had an attraction towards you. If only he wasn’t a cop, you could entertain the thought of a relationship if he hadn’t been. But honestly, it would probably hold you back.

“Where are we going? Why did you lie? What’s going on?”

“So many questions, Ruby. Live a little,” he chuckles at you. Was this guy insane? A cop isnt taking the opportunity to turn you in? He’d be decorated for the rest of his life.

“Live a little? Do you hear yourself? You said I’d been eluding you for nearly a year, why arent you taking me in? Don’t you want the accolades? Detective Geto takes down the Red Queen,”

“Thought you didn’t go by that name anymore?” He questions, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t,” you grumble. “But word obviously hasn’t spread yet,” your eyes roll.

“Besides, I'd rather get to know you first,” he says nonchalantly.

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. But you are too,” he eyes you, making your face redden like your lipstick.

“You don't know anything about me,” you bite out at him. Who does this guy think he is?

“I do,” he states matter of factly. He states your full name. Your fake secured social security number. The list of aliases you use to book hotels, rental cars whatever you needed. He knew what he needed to know. But after seeing you in person, he needed to know more.

He put two and two together based off your appearance. A long black Chanel coat. Big black sunglasses. Dark red lips. The umbrella.

He just knew it was you. He watched you walk into the bank.

“Count to thirty,” he thinks to himself. He’d studied your tactics. He knew them like the back of his hand.

And waited. You were late. One. Two. Three. This might actually happen for him. Four. He’s sweating. Five. You’re here. You’re right here. If he just reaches out—

And now here he was, you in the back of his car driving you to his safe house.

Where he’d get to know what he wanted—needed—to know.

He would figure out a way to know everything.

♧ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl

(pls make sure your settings are right to get tagged!)

#jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru x you #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you

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welcometothejianghu · 1 month

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names

Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.

Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?

I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.

The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.

1. Old Man Yaoi

As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.

(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)

They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.

However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.

I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.

Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.

Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.

2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!

If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.

I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.

See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.

So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.

Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.

But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.

You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.

Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...

3. This giant fucking loser

This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:

[camera pans over to him]

me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.

[thirty seconds later]

me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.

This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.

And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.

Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.

One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.

This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.

4. The power of friendship

This show has a lot of characters.

I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.

There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.

Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.

Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.

Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.

The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.

(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)

Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!

This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.

5. Amazing rewatch value!

And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.

For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?

Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)

From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.

AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck

All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.

And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss

Are you ready for an aventure?

There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).

And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:

The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)

Ultimate Note (iQiyi)

The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)

Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)

Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flower someday? Look, hope springs eternal.

They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.

#dmbj #重启 #重启之极海听雷 #盗墓笔记 #Reunion: The Sound of the Providence #the lost tomb reboot #rec post #i made this

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

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Mutually Assured Destruction

Snyopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

Being the first person out the door undoubtedly did Civilian no favors to their work reputation.

Anytime someone joked about it, often with an edge, Civilian would make excuses: their dog needed let out (they didn’t have a dog), they had to get to the bank before it closed (they use their banking app 90 percent of the time), they liked having a work/life balance (that one’s true).

The real reason, of course, was to avoid any encounters with them. Their newest colleague -- Jonathan Anderson. A bland, forgetful name for a bland, forgetful person. He arrived two months ago in her data entry division, dressed everyday in the same unremarkable navy suit with a grey tie, gave generic responses to small talk at lunch.

And he scared the shit out of them.

Luckily for Civilian, their paths didn’t cross that often and when they would, Civilian had found ways to neatly side step them -- emails instead of face to face conversations, calling in favors, and once, even taking a sick day to avoid a meeting.

It worked great -- until it didn’t.

The elevator descended at an agonizing snail’s pace. Civilian stood in the back, gripping the railing behind them with a sweaty hand and tried to breathe slowly and evenly.

The only other person in the elevator with them -- and the only other person in the building -- was Jonathan Anderson. Because of course he would be working late the one time Civilian had a deadline change and a mad scramble to get everything read by tomorrow.

He stood in front of the buttons, his back to them, plain brown leather briefcase dangling from his hand. To everyone else, he looked harmless. But the sheer power of his aura radiated like the sun. It made Civilian light-headed being in such close contact with it.

Thirty more seconds, they thought to themselves. That’s all this elevator ride would last. After that Civilian could scurry off to the parking garage and screech out of here.

29 . . . 28 . . . 27 . . .26 . . .

The elevator came to a sudden, sickening halt and Civilian’s heart with it. They waited for the emergency alarm to blare, but the elevator stayed eerily silent.

“Is there . . is there something wrong?” Their voice came out shaky and hoarse. They cleared their throat.

For a moment Jonathan didn’t respond. Instead he turned around to lean casually against the wall and survey them, his face as bland and unreadable as always.

“That’s a question I think I should be asking,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

Instantly their hackles rose. It took considerable effort to keep the panic from their face, to force their shoulders to relax, to look confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re afraid of me.”

The truth struck true, lodging itself between their ribs. Civilian swallowed, suddenly dry mouthed, and tried to find the air again.

“You’ve trapped me in an elevator and you’re bigger than me,” they pointed out.

“That is rather nerve-wracking, I’ll admit. It’s almost believable. But this started a long time ago, didn’t it?”

He straightened and took a step towards them. And another. All while speaking in that affable, level tone, as if commenting on the weather.

“Since my first day here. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you never shook my hand that day. Or that I don’t notice all the little tricks you pull to avoid me. Yet we’ve never had a negative encounter. You’ve never given me the opportunity to create a bad impression. It’s rather baffling, don’t you think?”

He stopped a safe distance away but close enough to prevent any attempt to escape. Despite being only a couple inches taller than Civilian, they loomed in the small space.

“So tell me -- how do you know?”

“Know what?”

It was their only defense, this wide eyed denial. To pretend they were discomfited by a bizarre encounter with their coworker, rather than straddling the edge of a panic attack while stuck in an elevator with a man who could kill them with a snap of his fingers probably.

He snorted. “You gave up the ability to be coy when you stepped into this elevator. Please don’t make me ask you again.”

Though he made no threatening movements, the swell of his power spoke for him, the pressure of it nearly suffocating.

“I can feel it,” Civilian whispers shakily. “Your power. Anyone’s power. They have an -- an aura about them and I can feel how strong it is.”

“So you can tell, instantly, who is and isn’t a powered individual?” he clarified, his focus sharpening like the sun through a magnifying glass.

They only managed a nod, their throat tight.

“Fascinating.”

The hint of awe in his voice would have been flattering if Civilian hadn’t spent so much effort to avoid this kind of attention.

“And which organization is benefiting from this power? Who is keeping tabs on me?”

“No one,” Civilian said hurriedly. “I haven’t told anyone.”

A wicked smirk spread like slow poison across his face, transforming a visage that no one looked twice at into something terrifying.

“Do you think I’m as stupid as I pretend to be for work? There is no possibility that any organization would allow someone like you to walk untethered. Now, answer the question before I show you exactly why my aura frightens you so much.”

His hand hovered just over their heart, the beat of which a cacophony in their ears. Nothing happened -- yet. But the anticipation of it, coupled with the fact that Civilian still had no idea what such power was, made their whole body start to tremble.

“They don’t know about me,” they said, throat tight. “No one knows about me. I’ve kept it a secret my whole life.”

Jonathan still surveyed them with suspicion. “Why? I imagine you would be an extremely valuable asset to them. And those tend to be very well compensated. You expect me to believe you’d rather be a data clerk for a bank?”

A flash of rage breaks through the fog of terror. “My father was an extremely valuable asset. It didn’t stop him from dying an excruciating and unnecessary death. I’m not following in his footsteps.”

For a moment he looked taken aback at this confession before his eyes narrowed in what almost seemed like approval. It emboldened Civilian.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here and I don’t want to know. If I tell anyone about you, it will blow my secret too. So just . . . let me stay out of your way?” They swallowed, tongue darting out to moisten cracked lips. “Please?”

For several agonizing seconds he just looked at them, his face blank as printer paper. Civilian tried to meet his eyes, to look trustworthy, but the weight of his flat, calculating stare was too much. Instead, their gaze fell onto his hand, still hovering over their heart, ready to crush them or incinerate them or dissolve them or whatever ungodly thing he could do.

And then his hand slowly slipped down further between them and flipped up, palm open.

“What take out do you enjoy?” he asked.

“ . . .what?”

“It’s a bit late for a restaurant, but I know several takeout places still open this time of night. Do you have a preference?”

It was Civilian’s turn to stare at Jonathan with their brow furrowed.

“You -- you don’t need to buy me dinner,” they stammered.

“Of course I do. It’s customary for a date, yes?”

“For a what?” Civilian choked.

That wicked smirk appeared again, giving life to the void of his neutral expression.

“You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“I -- I’m not your enemy!”

“And you will never have the opportunity to be one. I’m ensuring it. And since you refuse to acknowledge my presence here at work, there is only one other recourse. Now choose or I shall choose for you.”

A date. Dinner. With him. Someone with the strongest aura Civilian had ever encountered. Someone who was definitely planning something illegal.

“I like tacos,” they said faintly.

With a wave of his hand, the elevator shuddered back to life and continued it’s gentle decent to the ground floor.

“Then we shall get tacos,” said Jonathan, taking their hand.

Part Two

#my writing #not a prompt #enemies to lovers #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain

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shootingstarpilot · 7 months

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A scene that will only be referenced in the next chapter, but I was overcome with the urge to write it out anyway:

Boil catches Stitch's entry onto the bridge out of the corner of his eye.

He elbows Waxer, grinning. The kid's got a pair of crutches under one arm, and they'd both noticed the way the Commander had been leaning on the holotable, stubbornly ignoring the General's not-so-subtle disapproving look and the chair Waxer had fruitlessly nudged into place behind him.

This is going to be a show.

Stitch scans the bridge, eyes narrowed, until he catches sight of the Commander. He walks forward, stopping a few respectful feet behind him, and--

waits.

Thirty seconds pass.

Then a minute.

More and more eyes are landing on him. Poorly-muffled giggling blooms across the bridge.

"Hi, Stitch," Waxer says cheerfully.

"Hi, sir," Stitch says politely, his gaze flickering sideways in acknowledgement before returning to Cody's back.

Cody's shoulders slump.

Eventually, the holocall ends. General Kenobi is the first to turn around.

"Hello, Stitch," he says, smiling faintly. "Can I help you?"

"No thank you, sir. I'm waiting for the Commander, sir."

There's only so long Cody can avoid turning around, and he knows it. With a long, deep sigh, he turns.

"Hi, sir," Stitch says brightly, and thrusts the crutches forward. "You forgot these."

"Those aren't mine," Cody says immediately. "I left mine in my office. I'll grab them after."

"These are yours," Stitch says patiently. "I put a sticker on them when Helix first gave them to you. See?"

He points. Cody leans forward, searching despite himself--

His expression flattens out.

"It's a lightsaber," Stitch says helpfully. "Needle made it. He said you'd forgotten your crutches before, and I thought a sticker would be helpful for you to remember which are yours. Helix says taking initiative is a good thing."

"I... see."

He still doesn't take them.

Stitch sighs. "Is this because Helix yelled at you for kicking droids again, and you don't want to prove him right?"

"No," Cody grinds out, and Waxer muffles a wheezing laugh in Boil's shoulder. General Kenobi's expression is carefully blank.

"Is it because--"

"They're uncomfortable," Cody sighs. He lowers his voice, conscious of their delighted audience, and there's a ripple of coughing and clearing of throats as people turn back to their assigned tasks. "They-- my shoulders keep cramping. I need to be able to fire a blaster, Stitch. I'm minimizing my movement as much as possible, I promise."

"Uncomfortable," Stitch echos, looking baffled. "Why didn't you say so, sir? Give me-- ten minutes, please. I can fix that. I'll be back soon. Can you sit down in the meantime, please?"

"I'll make sure he does, Stitch," the General interjects, and Stitch nods seriously.

"Thank you, sir," he says, and nods at them both before vanishing out the door.

"You're enjoying this far too much, sir," Cody hisses, as Kenobi carefully helps him settle into the long-ignored chair.

"My dear Commander," Kenobi says, laughing, "I'm simply glad it's not me this time."

Cody's glare could incinerate a Hutt. The General remains cheerfully unaffected.

When Stitch returns, he brings with him a painstakingly adjusted pair of crutches. Layers of cotton batting is tied carefully to the pads, and the grips have been adjusted a few levels upwards.

"Try these, please," he says, handing them over.

Cody reluctantly accepts them. "All right. Later, when I--"

Stitch is looking at him very expectantly.

He sighs. "Yes, Stitch."

He levers himself to his feet and takes a few halting steps. Boil watches, fascinated, as astonishment flickers across his expression before it settles into a quiet resignation.

"This-- is better," he mutters. "Very much so."

Stitch beams. "Thank you, sir! And you'll make sure to use them until you're cleared?"

"Yes, Stitch."

"And you won't forget about your follow-up tomorrow? You can have a juice box. Or a pudding cup. You can choose. Needle got some."

Waxer coos. Cody glares at him.

("That's KP duty for you," Boil whispers. "Just you wait.")

"I won't, Stitch."

"Good. Thank you, sir. And- Helix told me to tell you that you- that you're lucky you got me and not him, sir, because he'd be, um- a damn sight louder, sir, because he's got no patience for- for idiots, sir."

A beat.

"That's from him, sir," Stitch repeats anxiously.

Cody sighs. "That's all right, Stitch. Well done."

Stitch brightens immediately, rocking back on his heels. "I'll save you a chocolate pudding cup, sir, if you like. Those ones are the best, so they tend to go fast."

A smile flickers across Cody's face. "Thank you. I'd appreciate it. You're dismissed."

Stitch salutes-- shiny little tubie, small gods-- and vanishes out the door.

Kenobi has given up the game entirely, now, and is grinning broadly. Cody turns on him immediately.

"Stop that."

"Stop what, my dear?"

"The thing you're doing with your face."

"Smiling?"

"Smugly. Yes."

"I'm just pleased with our medics' professionalism, Commander."

"I've got two dozen witnesses to that for the next time you try to dodge them."

"Noted. Can I have your pudding cup?"

"No."

#shoulder the sky #stitch the medic #codywan #teasing is a perfectly valid love language

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hoesformatt · 5 months

Text

POP ONE OR SUMN… PT 2

matt smut, play a stupid game with a stupid bitch, you know what you in for when you see me

sub!matt • poc!reader friendly

contains: tit fucking, oral (m!receiving), pet names, no use of y/n, mutual masturbation, excessive touching

word count: 0.6k (this one is short just like the last one)

part 1 <-

not proofread

Making sure I looked good for my link up with Matt, I got all my shit ready, even though half of my ass was falling out my shorts that was kinda the whole point…

It’s been a week later ever since me and Matt exchanged videos. Our schedules haven’t been matching up well because we're both busy people but today we actually got the chance to see each other.

I was taking a bit of time to get glammed up checking the time every thirty seconds because I’m already tardy. I grabbed my bag from my table jogging down the stairs towards the hooks with my keys on them when I had a notification.

“Where are you at?”

“Give me 5 minutes” I probably needed 20 minutes more to even get there even though I was supposed to be there half an hour ago, I’m just a girl.

Quickly getting into my car I checked my makeup in the mirror making sure I looked tea. This our first time seeing each other, he told me he lived with his brothers and I’ve talked to them when I was on facetime with him here and then.

Quarter past I pulled up to his place, glancing at the time freaking out on how late I was, unyet I still was obsessing over if I looked alright or not.

Walking up to the doorbell I rang it for one of his brother to open the door for me. “Hi I’m Nick, shit, come in” He guided me through the entrance before speaking to me. “Matt’s been waiting for you, he’s probably upstairs in his room though”

Nick showed me the way to as I walked down the hallway to the room with the smallest crack of the door opened. The house was quiet all I could hear was cute and petty whimpers, to enter the room I saw him holding his phone in his left hand and stroking his cock in the other.

He hadn’t noticed me yet so I knocked on the entry as he paused when he gaped me watching. He got red out of embarrassment quickly as he put his phone down face up before he quickly turned it off but I already saw my videos pulled up on his phone.

“Couldn’t wait for me? You had jerk off to me across a screen?” I waltzed towards him to jump between his legs.

His cock was even larger in person and his pink tip is so cute, I just wanted to lick it. But no, I wanted to tease him a bit.

“Touch yourself.” He obeyed my orders starting to rub his twitching dick, licking his lips and his eyes dropped to my cleavage stroking his cock faster to the sight.

“You want to fuck my tit’s baby?” His mouth opened wide, his nodded excessively “Yes, m-mommy please” I took off my shirt to be only in my bra leaving Matt in awe. He moved to sit on the edge on the bed so that I could get on my knees between his legs. I pulled my bra out a bit to fit his lengthy cock in-between my large breasts.

He sucked his breath through his teeth as he felt the warmth of my tits around Matt’s throbbing dick. I spit directly on his tip and my breasts, holding my boobs I began to move my chest up and down on his cock.

“Ugh, fuck mommy—” He moaned loudly before cupping his hand over his mouth. I gazing up at Matt, his cheeks were a bright red and his lip were parted more of his whimpers escaping his mouth.

Matt threw his head back as he fucked my tits until his breath began to get shaky, and his hips started to slow down. “I’m going to cum mommy, I’m gonna cum” I pulled back using my hands while licking his tip until stripes of cum flew out his dick.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #smut #fics #fan fiction #fan fic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #hoesformatt

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writingintheshadowsforever · 10 months

Text

Imagine Abby thinking you sacrificed your live to save hers

Abby took slow steps towards the edge of the same cliff she'd watched. You throw yourself over just a few seconds ago followed by at least twenty to thirty runners and clickers. She counted each second after that in her head waiting to catch a glimpse of your hand appearing at the top.

Five went by and still there was no sign you somehow managed to pull off the impossible. Abby didn't believe in God or praying, but she was willing to try anything right now. If it would bring you back to her in one piece. She dropped to her knees just a foot short of the edge taking a fistful of her own jacket. Tears clouded her vision as a guttural scream ripped free from her throat. A cry. A desperate plea to the heavens above for a miracle.

Abby refused to believe you were truly gone. She was never good at being open with her feelings, but it got even worse after the death of her father. After losing him Abby shut down completely leading to her break-up with Owen, and months of isolation from her friends. It took a year for the other wolves to get her to warm up to them after her and Owen joined up with the group.

But you were the one who slipped past her defenses right into her heart. Every single wall Abby built to stop herself from ever falling for someone so hard. To the point where the mere thought of losing them made her to curl up in a ball, and cry. Crumbled in your presence until just the sight of you smiling at her caused a red tint to coat her cheeks.

She had a bad feeling about this particular patrol when Issac gave her the location. He was sending the two of you to search making sure it was still clear of infected. An old rotting building the wolves used as a main outpost at once, until the Seraphites pushed them back. But in the past couple of months the WLF were able to gain some ground in the ongoing war, and this was one of the areas. They had managed to regain control over, and Issac wanted to establish dominance now while he had the chance. The building had way too many entry points Abby could see for a mile away. Instead of deciding to turn back and return with a bigger group. She led you into the infected death trap where the two of you were separated. When the horde descended out of nowhere, and a few moments later out of ammo armed with just her fists. Abby found herself cornered about to be devoured.

You came out of nowhere dropping out of a hole in the ceiling right behind the horde. Without hesitation you drew them in shooting your gun into the air. The shots ranging out drew every single last one of them away from her, and then you tore out of the building still shooting. They followed with growls and rumbling moans.

Abby took down as many as she could, but without a viable weapon there was nothing she could do to help you.

Now you were gone and would never the truth about how she felt about you. You were dead because of her. The image of you being caught in the mob of infected while falling to your death flashed through her mind. Abby fell over resting her forehead on the in the freezing snow as a sob racked through her body. She just hoped you had a quick death, and felt no pain. You deserved better.

So caught up on in grieving your death the usual always on alert wolf didn't pick up. On the sound of a pair of footsteps approaching her in almost frantic run. Nor did she register your voice or your hands gripping both sides of her face. Pulling her upright to face you, and it was then when her blue eyes bored into your own soft ones wide with worry. She realized you were still alive, and the water works got even worse.

"Abby what's wrong? Did one of them bite you? Abby please tell me you're not infected after what I just went through. Abbs talk to me" You pleaded with your best friend. Your hands fell from her face to search the rest of her body looking for any tears in her clothing, and a bite mark. Thankfully you found none, but it still made no sense to you why she was crying so hard.

"Abby hey its okay I'm here" You whispered brushing a few strands of light brown hair out of her face. Leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead as your arms wrapped her shoulders. Abby clung to you as the sobbing began to subside.

Eventually Abby recovered enough to pull away from your embrace. The next thing she did baffled you more than anything. Before you could get to your feet your body was sprawled out in the snow. You looked up at the muscular girl a mixture of confusion and anger dancing in your eyes. She had shoved you onto your back, and it wasn't a playful shove either. Abby meant it with hurtful intent.

"What the hell was that for?" You snapped propping yourself up on your elbows. Abby towered over you her bottom lip quivering.

"You nearly got yourself killed idiot" she shouted.

"Yeah and I saved your damn life in the process. A thank you would be nice." You replied back not holding back your own attitude. This wasn't an argument you intended to lose.

"I never asked you to do that" Abby shot back.

"The alternative would've been watching you die. Would you had rather I'd done that?"

"Yes anytime you have to choose between saving me or yourself. You choose yourself I'm not worth dying for y/n" she yelled jabbing a finger at you. Her rage no longer hidden beneath the surface anymore. It had broke free letting you see she wasn't just upset by your actions, but genuinely angry.

You were on your feet now. "That's bull Abby for some many reasons, but even if I wanted too. I couldn't what kind of partner would that make me?"

" I don't care about any of that y/n. I only care about you okay" She gripped you by your forearms bringing your body to hers. You wouldn't have been able to resisted if you wanted. "You're not just a friend to me okay, you're so much more than that. I-" Abby paused short of finishing what you both knew she was about to say.

But once those words were spoken there was no going back, and Abby wasn't ready for that this whole situation had gotten out of control. More than she ever wanted to and the only thing she could do now to make sure things stayed normal between you and her was walk away.

So that's exactly what she did.

Abby released her hold on your arms letting you step back from her. Both of you were breathing heavily as you regarded her with sympathy and curiosity.

"Just don't do anything dumb like that again okay. You're a one of our best. We can't afford to lose you" Abby murmured. Then she turned around and started walking back towards the outpost.

I can't afford to lose you

She hadn't said it but you heard it along with the underlying tone of softness in her voice. Abby Anderson was in love with you.

You were sure of it now, and she was going to admit to you one way or another.

#abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou2 #tlou2 x reader

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

Text

When It Rains, It Pours

Rudy Parra x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: ;) -Thorne

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

They’d all scattered into the wind like bats out of hell when Graves and his team had opened fire on them. She had been one of the first to start moving back the second Graves’ tone had changed, only turning tail and running when the gunfire started. She didn’t know how far she’d run but when she stopped, there were no Shadow’s tailing her, and she was on a side of the town she hadn’t seen before.

Hiding in an alley behind a dumpster, she took out her scanner and tapped at the screen, trying to pinpoint Ghost and Soap’s locations. Nothing would come up and the rumble of thunder echoed in her ears, signaling that if she hadn’t already lost tracking ability, she was about to. She tried once more for their locations before switching course of action and pinging Alejandro’s and Rudy’s. Alejandro’s hadn’t moved much from the former location, and she cursed, knowing he was either dead or captured. Rudy’s however was moving quickly out of town.

She put the device away and started out towards the street when a jeep pulled up beside her. “Ah shit,” she muttered as two of Graves’ Shadows crawled out and pointed weapons at her.

“Drop your weapons!” one shouted, the other coming around the vehicle.

“C’mon boys, lets just pretend we didn’t see each other, yeah?” she asked. “I mean, I don’t want to do this, you don’t want to do this. Neither of us really want to do—"

The one stalked towards her, rifle pointed. “I said, drop your fuck—”

She grabbed the barrel of his rifle, shoving it down before she sunk her forearm into his throat, shoving him sideways when the other opened fire. His body floundered from the impact, gargles escaping him as his teammate gasped in shock, and she grabbed her knife, throwing it as hard as she could. It sunk into the Shadow’s eye, and he jerked, hitting his knees, body pitching forward onto the concrete.

Taking the knife out, she wiped the blood and brains that had come with it on the poor bastard’s back. Sheathing it, she slipped into the driver’s seat, not bothering to move the body as she drove over it, though she did wince as she heard cracking and squelching; one handheld the steering wheel as the other felt around for her device again. Rudy’s location had moved much farther, and she followed it, hoping that it was him driving whatever vehicle he was in and not a Shadow.

***

By the time she’d pulled up to the small building, the rain had started pouring, lighting scattering across the sky as thunder shook everything in its path with reverb. Rudy’s location had fallen off the map about thirty minutes prior, and there was no vehicle in sight, part of her wondering if she had followed wrong. She got out of the jeep, turning it off before stowing the keys under the driver’s seat. Rain drenched her clothes as her feet sunk into the mud as she walked around, barely managing to avoid stepping on a pressure plate in the front. Nope, she was in the right place.

She looked around for an entry to the building, seeing an open window across the wall; hurrying over, she shoved some of the wooden boxes closer and stepped up, pulling herself up the ledge. As she cocked her leg over, the mud on her boot slickened the ledge and her grip slipped, a sharp gasp escaping her as she fell head first onto the floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered with a groan, and she rolled over, forearms and elbows aching from the brunt of the fall—at least she’d managed to not break her neck, what a shit way to go that would be for her friends to find out. She gathered her things, intent to stand when a red light flickered on her chest and she muttered, “Fuck me.” She lifted her hands slowly beside her head in an act of peace. “Easy, buddy,” she said loud enough for whoever was up in the back to hear. “Graves is going to want me alive, not dead. You shoot me and he’s not going to be happy.”

“Empress?” someone called, the red light sliding off her chest and she squinted in the dark as a head appeared from the side.

“Rudy?” she returned. “Is that you?”

“It’s me,” he replied, dropping down from the ledge to walk over.

She couldn’t see him in the dark but every time the lightning streaked the sky, she saw his face; he knelt beside her and she reached up, pulling him into a hug. “Estoy muy feliz de verte,” she breathed into his ear. “Dios estoy feliz de verte vivo.”

His hands wrapped around her waist hesitantly and he murmured, “Estoy feliz de verte vivo también.” He pulled back slightly, gazing at her. “Where are Ghost and Soap?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Couldn’t get their locations to show up on the scanner. Ghost would’ve done away with the tracker and Soap’s may have fallen off.”

“Trackers?”

She reached up behind him and snagged something out of his hood, showing it to him. About the size of a thumb nail and no longer beeping red like it usually would’ve. “I tracked you here.”

Rudy pulled away from her to take the tracker from her. “When did you put this on me?”

She stood to her feet and stretched. “Remember that time I told you that your time on your knees was next?” she asked. “That’s when.”

He stood too. “Oh, so it was a ploy to put the tracker on me?”

“Oh no,” she replied with a smirk. “I’m still one hundred percent serious about you, cowboy.” Walking away, she looked around. “Where are we?”

“Alejandro’s safehouse.”

“Hmm…doesn’t feel very safe. Feels more like storage.”

“Storage for his gear.”

She started tugging off the gear she had on, yanking off the sopping jacket she had on. “Rain’s coming down like a goddamn flood. Get me a clean shirt if you can find one.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding like he almost tripped over himself when the tight, black shirt came off too; he returned moments later with a clean white shirt, a size or two too big but it would work until hers dried out. “Aquí.”

She took it from him. “Thank you, Rudy,” she murmured, taking it from him; he stood there, and she looked at him. “I’m going to take my bra off, Rudy.”

“What?”

“My bra. It’s wet too.” She blinked. “I mean, I have no issues with you staring at my girls. They’re pretty. And pierced. But I mean, I figured I’d warn you before I stripped more.”

“I, uh, Dios mío,” he breathed, spinning around with such a speed it made her head spin.

As she lifted the sports bra, she asked, “Rudy, eres virgen?”

He spluttered. “Qué!”

She wrung the water from her bra. “You are, aren’t you?”

“No soy un virgen,” he flustered. “He tenido sexo antes.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted. “Well it was either terrible or it’s only happened once because you still act like a virgin.”

“Or I act like a man who wants to show a woman respect,” he retorted.

Slipping the white shirt on, she nudged him in the knee and he turned around. “How many times?”

Rudy cleared his throat, looking past her at the wall. “Sólo una vez.”

“What was it? High school girlfriend? A girl you met in basic training?” she couldn’t see it, but she knew his cheeks were reddening. “Basic training, wasn’t it? Was she older?” his foot sunk into the dirt as he scuffed his boot. “Oh, she was? Rudy, tú perro picaro,” she chastised. “You slept with your superior.”

“It was only once,” he admitted. “We were drunk and flirting and it—”

She grinned at him and crooked a finger at him; Rudy stepped forward like his feet were full of lead, breathing quickening when she grabbed the side of the table and inched herself to the edge until her knees were tucked snugly on either side of his thighs. “There’s no need to explain how it happened when you can just show me, Rudy.”

“Ay Cristo, ay mierda, ay joder,” he started muttering to himself, hands into fists like he was trying to keep himself from grabbing her.

She let her hands come up, teasing beneath his vest. “Take a breath, Sergeant Major, you look like you’re going to combust.” He swallowed thickly and she added, “if you want to stop we can always consider this just…light-hearted teasing.”

“No, quiero esto,” he blurted out and she fell silent; Rudy then took a deep breath. “Simplemente no quiero hacerlo aquí.” Finally, he found his hands, and reached up, warm fingers brushing along the column of her throat. “Te mereces algo más que una mesa dura.”

“Oh, honey, I’d take a dirt floor if it meant I’d get you.” Her hum made the tips of his fingers tingle and she cooed, “But please, be a gentleman. Lucky me. Most guys would jump at the chance.”

“I am not most guys,” Rudy retorted, fingers clenching at the nape of her neck.

“No you’re not,” she said, and reached up, curling her fingers in the opening of his jacket. “Now if you’re not going to absolutely ruin me, kiss me at least?”

He leaned down, let her close her eyes, and he stopped, lips brushing hers as he warned, “Oh, te voy a destruir, pero no aquí, Emperatriz.”

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him onto the table with her. “Ooo, I like it when you find your guns, cowboy.”

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Note

Ohmygodohmygod

Mickey Garcia, smut, lingerie & 'keep your eyes on me'.

My first time writing for Fanboy and man oh man, did I enjoy it. Hope you like this!

-----

warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), language

Better Than Fiction

Mickey had been so excited when you surprised him with the gaming console he had been trying to get his hands on for months. He didn’t know you had been scouring the internet and calling every store in a 100 mile radius seeing if anyone had it or was getting it in stock in time for his birthday, but by the grace of the video game gods, you had managed to find one the day before his 30th birthday. You had broken more than a few speed limits going to get it to make sure no one else got it first, but the way he had lit up when he unwrapped it the next day had been worth the risk. It was so cute how happy he was and how he had immediately plugged it in and put in the game you had bought along with it. You didn’t even mind that he had spent the rest of his birthday playing it instead of the plans you had originally had.

But that had been two weeks ago. And aside from when he was on base or in the air, Mickey hadn’t stopped playing it. You had barely had a full conversation with him, barely eaten any meals together, and your boyfriend, your sweet, normally horny and can’t keep his hands off you boyfriend, hadn’t touched you in two weeks. You were to the point of staging a break in and having the damn console be the only thing that went missing if he didn’t start paying attention to you soon. If your plan tonight didn’t work, you didn’t think you would have another choice.

You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared apartment, fluffing your hair and adjusting the straps of your brand new lingerie. It was truly the skimpiest outfit you had ever worn. It was all sheer lace, lined in a blood red silk, and you felt so damn sexy. You ran a tube of your favorite red lipstick over your lips and stepped into the matching colored heels to complete the outfit. You had to give it to yourself - you looked damn good.

Giving yourself one more pep talk, you strutted into the living room. Like you anticipated, he was there on the couch, his controller in his hand as the video game played on the tv in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed you walk into the room. You cleared your throat from where you stood in the entry way, and he didn’t so much as glance in your direction. The last bit of your patience reached, you marched over to stand directly in front of him, your hands on your hips and face twisted in anger.

“Honey, can you m…,” the words died off of Mickey’s tongue as he finally, finally looked at you. His eyes widened when he processed what you were wearing, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit.”

“Mickey Garcia, I swear to God, if you don’t turn that thing off and keep your eyes on me for five fucking minutes, I’m going to throw it, and maybe you, out the damn window!”

You watched as he let the controller fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. Without taking his eyes off of you, he reached for the remote on the coffee table. He clicked the tv off without a word, and for the first time in two weeks, you didn’t hear some overdramatic, medieval battle playing as background noise in your apartment. Finally.

“Mi amor…you look stunning. My God. You dressed up all for me?”

HIs voice was filled with awe, and you could see his dick twitch from where it was confined within his thin athletic shorts. Satisfaction coursed through you, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook yet.

“I did,” you confirmed. You moved forward and straddled his lap, leaning forward to whisper directly into his ear. “But if you don’t have your head between my legs in the next thirty seconds to make up for the fact that you haven’t touched me in two weeks, I’m going to go find someone else who can appreciate it.”

You barely got the words out before he was gripping your thighs and throwing you onto your back on the couch. You gasped in delight when he didn't hesitate to rip your brand new lingerie right off of you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize I had been neglecting you. I’ll make it up to you.” He emphasized his words with kisses to your thighs, snipping at the skin. He buried his face in your pussy and inhaled deeply, groaning at your scent. You both groaned when he swiped his tongue through your folds. Oh, yes. This is exactly what you’ve been missing.

“You can start by making me cum on your mouth,” you instructed, threading your fingers through his dark hair and pushing his face harder to you. His mouth felt heavenly as he worked you with his tongue diligently. “At least once. Maybe twice.”

“I’ll make you cum as much as you want, mi amor,” he said, speaking the words against your soaking wet pussy before sucking your clit between his lips. “I’ll never ignore you again.”

word count: 876

------

Wanna participate in the party? See details here.

#alli's tgm blurb party #alli's tgm mix and match blurb party #mickey garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy smut #fanboy imagine #mickey garcia #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia smut #alli writes

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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

Text

Doe Eyes || CH4 - Worth Being Sore Over

See CH1 for warnings! || Chapter list || Masterlist

Thirty days had passed. You marked each day in a little notebook, and wrote down a song title for each day. Aside from Beth's occasional singing, you hadn't heard real music in a long time. Music was the thing you missed most from the world before, and you thought it would be a good method to keep music alive. Even if you couldn't hear it, you could remember it. The songs weren't even necessarily songs you likes, just the ones you remembered.

Day 28 - Don't Fear the Reaper ~ Blue Oyster Cult

Day 29 - Nights in White Satin ~ The Moody Blues

Day 30 - 21 Guns ~ Green Day

You guys had a run to make, so you scribbled your entry quickly and got dressed, grabbed a bite, chugged some water, and did a few stretches. You had learned the hard way how sore you could get doing so much labor with no warm up. So, every day you stretched.

The council was wary of you at first. Michonne recognized you from the time the Governor sent you after her with Merle, who you learned some time ago was dead, and she made her concerns known. Brandy stuck up for you, though, reminding them that it was you who hadn't gone after her when you could have. You also reminded them that you were on guard when they broke in to rescue Glenn and Maggie, and you didn't go after them. You asked to prove yourself and you did, taking down seven or eight walkers outside the fence on your own with just a crowbar. It worked, and you got to earn your place. So, when you were called upon to make a run with the group, you didn't protest.

Brandy hated it, though.

"You're really gonna go?" She asked you as you made sure your bag was empty to ensure plenty of space for loot.

"We've been over it." You shrugged. "Every single time, might I add. This is my job. It's how I earn my keep."

"There are so many jobs that need done around here." She argued. "I mean, I'm up to my ears in laundry. Why the hell are there only three of us on laundry duty? There are like a thousand people here!"

"A thousand?" You laughed. "Try again."

"Details aren't the point! Just stay and do a normal job!" She pleaded.

"This is a normal job, Brandy." You told her, stepping past her and exiting your cell.

"No it's not. It's like, betting with your life or something every time you go."

"Come on, stop being such a drama queen. We haven't had a single incident the entire time we've been here." You sighed. When her glare was unrelenting you decided to lay a hand on her arm and offer her a half smile. "Chillax, cowgirl. We're professionals and shit."

She laughed at that and shook her head.

"You better come back in one piece." She scolded.

"Always do!" You chirped as you skipped away before she could protest any further.

----

"Just give it a second." Daryl said after banging on the glass outside the grocery store to lure out some walkers.

"Okay, I think I got it." Zach announced.

"Got what?" Michonne asked, walking up behind him. You raised your eyebrows at him, awaiting his response.

"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn." He said.

"He's been tryin' to guess for like six weeks." Daryl complained.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." Zach defended. "One shot a day."

"Alright, shoot." Daryl sighed.

"Well, the way you are at the prison," Zach began. "You being on the council, you're able to track.. You're helping people but you're still being kind of.." He trailed off for a second, gathering his thoughts. "Surly." He nodded. "Big swing here... Homicide cop."

Michonne started laughing, and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh yourself.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked defensively.

"Nothing." Michonne shook her head, still smirking. "It makes perfect sense."

"Actually, the man's right." Daryl nodded. "Under cover."

"Come on, really?" Zach asked.

"Yup. I mean, I don't like to talk about it, 'cause it's a lot of heavy shit, you know?"

"Dude, c'mon. Really?" Zach scoffed as Daryl turned his head away and smirked a little. He turned his head back to Zach and gave him a look. One of those 'be fucking for real' type looks. "Okay. I'll just keep guessing, I guess."

"Yeah, you keep doin' that." Daryl nodded.

A walker slammed up against the glass, snarling. You scrunched your nose in disgust at its bloated neck and flaky rotten skin.

"We gonna do this, detective?" Michonne asked sarcastically.

"Let's do it!" Daryl said, strutting toward the entrance.

The group of you cleared the walkers that crowded up inside, hungry for your flesh.

"Alright." Sasha breathed. "We go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, you all know what you're supposed to look for. Any questions?"

"Was there any time that you weren't the boss of me?" Tyreese asked.

"You had a few years before I was born." She teased.

You shook your head and smiled at the siblings bantering as you guys filed inside. You pulled your bag off your shoulder and began searching the aisles for hygienic things, like soap, first aid, pads and tampons, diapers, lotions, just whatever. It wasn't long before a loud crash erupted, and you all rushed to find Bob stuck under a shelf of wine. As soon as you all went to help him, walkers started falling through the roof.

"Uh, we should get out of here." Glenn said.

A walker fell down on Glenn but he fought it off and shot it. They just kept coming. You looked around frantically, unsure what the next move was. A walker came up on your side and you whacked it once, then twice, and down it went. Thanks, crowbar, you thought to yourself.

You decided to just keep taking them down, until someone shouted some order into the chaos. You definitely couldn't leave anyone behind. You noticed Daryl and Zach working to get Bob out from under the shelf, so you hurried over to help. When the weight was lifted just enough, Bob slithered out from under it. Unfortunately, so did a walker, and it took a big chunk out of Zach's leg.

You all froze, stunned. Thirty days of good luck, and of course you had to witness the first tragedy in a month. The walkers swarmed him, taking bites from anywhere they could reach, including his face. You gagged at the grotesqueness, but ultimately you all had to go and preserve your own lives. You were teary eyed as you all made your escape.

The ride back was a solemn one. Nobody spoke, and you personally were filled with dread. Who was gonna tell Beth about her boyfriend?

"What about Beth?" You asked, clearing your throat first to break the silence.

"What about her?" Michonne asked.

"Who's gonna tell her? About Zach?"

"Me." Daryl grunted.

----

"His face?" Brandy asked in horror. She shook her head as she passed the wine you snagged back to you after taking a sizeable gulp. You nodded and tilted the bottle back, chugging a few mouthfuls for yourself. You and Brandy shared a cell, partially for space conservation but mostly because Brandy said it would be just like sharing a dorm in college. You wouldn't know, you never made good enough grades for a college.

"Yeah, man. It was sick. I can't get the image out of my head, you know? He was just screaming in agony and we couldn't do anything but run."

"Well, get some rest. We both need it." She sighed. You agreed as you closed the wine and climbed up to your bunk. You didn't get much sleep, though. Your thoughts ran rampant, and you weren't drunk enough to quiet them. You tossed and turned for a while, earning a few complaints from Brandy, but your eyes eventually fluttered shut.

The next morning you woke with a headache. Brandy was still asleep, so you went and found some instant coffee and made yourself some with room temperature water. No sugar, no cream, exactly how you didn't like your coffee, but at least it was caffeine. You were always more of an energy drink person, anyways.

You yawned and took a sip, rubbing your eyes. D Block was always quiet in the mornings. You heard shuffling walking toward you but you didn't look up. You assumed whoever it was, they were just as groggy as you. No need for chitchat. That was, until you heard that familiar guttural hissing. Your head snapped up and your heart dropped.

"Shit!" You shouted. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

You jumped up, dropping your coffee. Quick thinking wasn't always your strong suit. Your first idea was to throw a chair at them -- the two walkers that were headed straight for you, that is -- but of course in a prison they were all bolted to the ground. Your next closest option was a coffee mug, which did no damage when you chucked it at it's head. That was when you realized it was a familiar head, the kid with the glasses that always followed Carl around.

"Shit, man." You breathed. "How'd you die?"

Gunfire and screams followed shortly after. People filed in with guns as chaos ensued, gunning down walkers and being taken down by them. Rick and Daryl rushed in, so did Carol and Glenn, and eventually with their joint efforts the walkers were taken down. Lizzie and Mica's dad was bit, and Carol tended to him. You searched around for Brandy and found her crying on her cot.

"The hell was that?" You asked in disbelief as you plopped down beside her.

"How did they get in?" She cried.

"No clue." You sighed. "If it's not one thing, it's another."

At least I'm awake now, you thought.

----

Patrick died from some kind of flu, that was what started it. Now you were all quarantined to D Block, just in case it spread. How funny was it that a common flu could end a life so quickly. Patrick was fine yesterday, and so was Charlie. It killed fast. You and Brandy decided if you were confined to a cell, you'd finish off the wine and play the uno cards you took from the library.

"Draw four." Brandy gloated triumphantly.

"Asshole." You grumbled, pulling four cards from the deck.

"You know, if I survived all this, just to get taken out by a fucking flu, I'm havin' a personal conference with the big man upstairs when I get there." Brandy said.

"Oh yeah? What makes you think that's where you're going?" You wondered.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" She inquired.

"Didn't you know? All rich people go to hell." You joked. She rolled her eyes.

"You're a real sore loser, you know that?" She said. You glared at her. "Uno." She smirked.

"I'm just sad." You admitted, throwing your cards down. "Thirty good days, and then like ten tragedies within twenty four hours."

"Yeah." She nodded. "That's a loss worth being sore over."

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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ningningsdream · 1 year

Text

the villain in your story | part thirty three

work count: 2.2k

TUESDAY NIGHT

you lied on the living room's couch after having dinner with everyone. some went to their rooms to get some rest and others went to take their showers. you decided to stay on the couch because it was comfy, scrolling through your phone.

the first thing you did when you entered the kitchen area and spotted donghyuck was laugh. he was wearing an apron with fuchsia rubber gloves and it was just too funny for you to not laugh.

"you done?", donghyuck asked.

you looked back at him and laughed even more, holding your stomach. he had his fist on his hips, tongue poking his cheek and standing like that one jennie meme.

your laughing was so contagious that donghyuck ended up laughing with you.

"okay. okay. i'm good.", you said, trying to calm yourself down. you exhaled for five seconds managing to stop laughing but your face still adorned a big smile.

"come on, tell me what that jiwoo girl did to deserve your undeniable loyalty.", donghyuck said, starting to wash the mountain of dishes he had.

"well first, i believe a friend should be loyal? second, i've known her since freshman year, we go way back."

"so what? doesn't really explain why you're so defensive of her.", he retorted with a frown on his face from either your statement or the really persistent stain on the plate he was cleaning.

"she's a pretty sensitive kid.", you said, as if it was a line you've learned by heart throughout the years.

"she's a grown ass woman.", donghyuck deadpanned, making you let out a chuckle as it reminded you of something you could say.

"i'm just used to trying my best to make her life better, i guess."

"you know how that sounds, right?"

"pretty bad, now that i hear myself saying it out loud not gonna lie.", you said, earning a chuckle from him which transitioned into a laughter, "yah! stop laughing!", you exclaimed, hitting his arm.

both your attention then suddenly turned towards the kitchen entrance where jaemin just made his entry, "oh, you were here?", jaemin said, looking at you.

"yeah, i'm keeping him company.", you said, pointing to donghyuck.

jaemin looked at donghyuck then back at you and then back to donghyuck again before walking towards the fridge and taking a water bottle from it. he then exited the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone once again.

"is it me or was that weird?", you asked, pointing in the direction jaemin was.

"it was not you and i'm gonna get my ass beaten.", donghyuck said, jokingly, but fear was clear in his eyes as he got lost in his thoughts on how jaemin could be really scary when he wanted to.

"why?"

"why do you think?"

the look in his eyes gave you all the answers you needed, "we're just friends.", you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time while rolling your eyes, even though the little kick in your heart disagreed with you.

"it is so clear that there's tension between the two of you that even a blind person would regain their sight to tell you that you look good together."

"i-", you hated to admit that he rendered you speechless.

"seriously, do you have feelings for him? romantic feelings."

once again you were speechless.

"i take that as a yes. then-"

"no!", you quickly interrupted him.

"no, you don't have feelings for him?"

"i...i don't know..."

in the most dramatic way, he stopped in his movements and turned towards you, an eyebrow raised, looking like he caught you stealing from his cookie jar, "so you do like him."

"woh, don't get ahead of yourself. i'm just saying i don't know how i feel towards him."

"which is basically saying that you do feel something for him."

"is it?"

"you won't know if you don't do anything. just go to your shared bedroom and kiss him. then you'll see if you feel something."

"i can't."

"what do you mean you can't? just move your short legs over to him.", the free slander made you gasped so hard it knocked all the air out of your lungs.

"yah! my legs are average, and really, i can't."

"why? you gay? sorry to break it to you but if-"

"nah it's not that. even though i do like my fair share of women."

"then what is it?", donghyuck asked as he rinsed the plates but seeing your hesitation he decided to push a little, "come oooonnn. spill the tea."

"mmmmhh... i don't know if i can trust you.", you said, squinting your eyes at him.

donghyuck let out the biggest gasp, dropping his rinsing and stopping the running water, "i am deeply offended."

"dude, i don't know you well and even jimin and minjeong don't know the full truth."

"oh my god, the tea must be really hot then.", he said, already excited about it.

you pushed him slightly, making him lose his balance and almost falling. you put your hand in front of your mouth to stop yourself from laughing.

"come on, tell meeee. if you don't trust me we can make a blood oath right there and now.", he said, holding a knife up, still covered in dish soap foam.

you chuckled at the image of donghyuck in a hello kitty apron with hot pink gloves, holding a knife covered in foam and usually used for cutting steak, "just your words are enough but know that i'm big on loyalty. betray me and you'll deal with the consequences.", you said, pointing your finger almost in a threatening way.

"i swear.", he said, raising his right hand up.

"mmh...alright...", you started, still unsure, "i can't because my friend likes him.", you tried to stay vague to see if he'd get it.

he looked you in the eyes, trying to decipher your gaze, "jimin?", your deadpanned expression indicated to him that it wasn't the right answer. his brain worked faster to connect the dots. it couldn't be minjeong because she barely knew jaemin so the only person left was, "jiwoo?", you nodded, confirming his train of thoughts, "renjun did told me his suspicion but i just thought he was just kidding."

"yeah... she liked him since high school."

"high school??!", donghyuck almost shouted, which made you put your index on your lips to signal to him to keep it quiet, "high school??!", he repeated in a whisper, "wait- if you knew her since freshman year, and she had a crush on jaemin since her high school days, that means you were all in the same high school, which means we were in the same high school!"

"you knew jaemin back then too?"

"yeah."

you tried to remember with who jaemin used to hang out with but blank, your brain just remembered that he had his little group, "to be honest, i didn't know his entourage that much."

"i went by a nickname back then. haechan."

at the sound of his nickname, something clicked in your head. you remembered vague stories you would hear about that famous 'haechan' kid and some things you've seen with your own eyes, "no way! you were the kid that came to school with a bright red bowl cut wig!"

"yeah that was me!", he said, as excited as you.

"oh my god! it was hilarious. i probably have a picture of you i took of you back then somewhere."

"i can't believe we went to the same high school."

"i wasn't popular back then so no one really knew me except my friends and my back-then-boyfriend."

"the world is really small."

"indeed."

"so jiwoo likes him since high school and haven't even made a move on him yet? i mean, if she did, jaemin would have probably told us about it at some point."

"she didn't, well, she did try once but it didn't really end well. she didn't even show up."

"oh my god! are you talking about when he got stood up a few months ago?", donghyuck started putting the pieces of the puzzle together faster than you expected him to.

your face contorted in a painful expression at the memory as you nodded, "yeah. unfortunately, she was the culprit."

"did she even have an excuse?", you could hear the irritation in his voice. if he didn't like jiwoo before, now he hated her guts.

"she just said she couldn't do it. stress, anxiety or something else, i don't know. i didn't even have the time to talk to her about it that i was attacked for going on a 'date' with jaemin in her place."

"the audacity?? she had no rights??"

"that's what i said but as always she had lia, my other friend, backing her up and once again i'm the bad guy.", you sighed, feeling a heavy weight again on your shoulders.

donghyuck sent you a sympathetic look before asking, "why would she back her up when she was obviously in the wrong?"

"i guess it's because they know each other since kindergarten. like i said, jiwoo is a pretty sensitive person so lia is used to sticking up for her. it has always been like that.", you shrugged.

"i mean, jaemin and jeno knew each other way before we all met them and jeno will gladly call jaemin out on his bullshit, if renjun haven't done it first of course, and vice versa. this just screams lia and jiwoo against the world while you're supposed to be apart of the friendship too, you know?"

you nodded, agreeing with his words, "i'm realizing that as i'm getting to know other people outside my usual circle, but it also kind of hurts you know? like... realizing that i shouldn't have felt like that, that it wasn't normal to put up with what i did... but still not being able to walk away...", you started, tearing up as you talked, "i've known them for more than five years now, even if there were downs, there were also many ups and we went through a lot of things together as well. i don't want to throw that out the window."

"come here." donghyuck said, discarding his fuchsia gloves aside, long done with the dishes, and opening his arms. you accepted the gesture of comfort, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wrapped his around yours.

"my head is a mess, right now. if i end the friendship, i'll feel like the bad guy, if i keep the friendship, i'm still going to feel like the bad guy. if i try something with jaemin, i feel like the bad guy and if i don't i'm still going to end up feeling like the bad guy. there's just no escape."

"you know, you can't always be the good guy in everyone's life. you're bound to be the villain in someone's story. it doesn't make you someone bad though, it's just impossible to please everyone at the same time, yourself included."

you sniffed, bringing your hands to yourself to quickly wipe the two tears that were threatening to fall down and said, "thanks, hyuck."

"anytime.", he replied, patting your head.

"we should probably go to bed if we want to wake up on time tomorrow.", you said, pulling away from him and running a hand through your hair in attempt to recompose yourself.

donghyuck nodded in agreement and you two went your separate ways, wishing each other a goodnight.

you went to the bathroom for your night routine before going to bed. you checked your reflection and thankfully you didn't cry enough for your eyes to get really red and puffy. after your talk with donghyuck, your shoulders did feel lighter as you could finally fully talk about this with someone without tip toeing and being careful about not giving out too much information, but your head felt kind of dizzy due to all the thoughts running through your mind.

when you went back into your room, you expected jaemin to be sleeping but he wasn't. he was just lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through his phone, "oh hey, you aren't sleeping yet?"

"i wasn't that tired yet.", jaemin replied, that little bounce of happiness missing from his voice, which you assumed was from the fatigue kicking in.

you nodded, making your way to your side of the bed and laid down.

"you alright?", he suddenly asked. your heart almost stopped beating as you wondered if he heard the conversation you had with donghyuck, "you look kind of down."

he didn't hear anything. he was just that perceptive of a person. especially when it came to you.

"i'm just tired, i ran around a lot today.", you lied with a smile, "goodnight, jaemin."

"goodnight.", he replied, watching you close your eyes.

he knew you were lying, and even though he didn't know why, he concluded that it had to do with your conversation with donghyuck. he couldn't help himself but feel a little jealous when he saw the two of you laughing together in the kitchen. he too wanted to spend some time alone, one-on-one with you and get to know you better.

main masterlist | tviys masterlist

pairing: fem!oc x barista!jaemin, fembarista!reader x barista!jaemin

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, barista!au, sns au

summary: girls' code prevents you from liking the guy your friend likes right?

a/n: not me waking up to dreamies having liike a whole event in santa monica where they interacted with fans for free, from up close??? am i jealous? yes, but im also happy for the ones that got to see them, especially if they couldn't go to the concert!

taglist: [@glamourizz @rinrinslovebot @beomibeom @moonjobf @hiqhkey @calssunflower @donghyuckster @vianna99 @kookiedesi @baehaechannie @nshimura @thiccfullsun @dear-dreamie @neobowlingshoez @jjaehmins @liliansun @bythe8 @hyuckrec @dearlyminhyung @ohmygs-blog @hoeshi17 @wonupuppy @shan-oldham @jeongintwt @renjunoya @najm00]

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beelmons · 1 year

Text

love comes in moments.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Rating: Mature, 13+. Tags: Angst, no happy ending, Reid!POV, slow burn if you squint Word count: 6,772 Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid writes a memoir about the 15 years he spent by your side, and everything you went through since the moment you joined the BAU. A/N: I wanted to feel utter pain, so I wrote it. Hopefully you will suffer with me. Also, this hasn't been proof read, so things might change a bit during the week as I re-read it. This fic ended up having an aftermath with an slightly happier ending, you can read it here Heavily inspired by these two songs: 1 , 2 Tag list: @hey-dw @cassiemartzz

“Entry 1: The humble beginnings.

I still remember the day you first came through the doors of the unit. Shoulders down, your stare facing the floor, walking slightly behind Gideon. You were nervous, at the least, but if your body spoke as loudly as I was guessing, terrified would have been a more accurate word.

I couldn’t shake your hand, the germophobia wasn’t always nice to me, but you didn’t care. You understood. You faked a high-five, and just like that we had our own little inside joke. I had made a new friend within thirty seconds of meeting her; that was a first, but silly me, twenty-something and naïve, I couldn’t notice right away that a woman like you was meant to be many “firsts”, and even greater “onlys.”

“She’ll be your partner, be nice.” those were Hotch’s words.

Not until much later would I have come to realize the weight of that warning. Trained eyes could reach everything I wasn’t able to. I wonder if you noticed the utter adoration that man had for you, as a subordinate, as a friend, as a companion. Aaron always had that eagle-like eye to spot people who needed him just as much as he needed them. Emily and Derek were a clear example, but that’s besides the point.

Now, believe me when I say I’m sorry I didn’t notice how beautiful you were the second I laid my eyes on you. Perhaps, that would have saved us a lot of pain, or rather given us a lot more happiness. I was, to my ill luck, blinded by my adoration for someone else. I wouldn’t label it a mistake, it’s fair to say it was just an unfortunate event at the time, that would later come in doubles, and then in triples, like a series of them.

Do you remember that book? ‘A series of unfortunate events’ by Lemony Snicket. It was the first thing you gave me as a birthday present, that and the ridiculous hat that haunts me to this day. Engraved in my mind I have the expression you made when I told you it was a children’s book.

“No way! I’m giving a children’s book to a genius?!” the anguish in your voice was palpable, you were truly ashamed.

“Well, this is not the illustrated version, so it’s technically not a children’s book. I love it, thank you.” I tried to reassure you, but I wasn’t very good at that.

Maybe, you just wanted your partner to like you, to show me you were trying, or to prove that you could know me as much as the others in such little time, but regardless of the reason you felt like you’d failed. I could see it, and I regret not letting you know just how precious that possession would turn out to be.

Months later, we would also come to know that you couldn’t stand for that long without moving, otherwise your legs would feel swollen for days. Six hours you spent with me at the shooting range, even after Hotch had given up. They had to kick us out, and out of hunger we found that indian restaurant that’s open 24/7. I refuse to believe I still failed that certification, you were one of the best teachers I’ve ever had, but I’ll always be thankful for every missed shot, since that night I found the wonder that butter chicken was. My first time having indian food.

Interestingly enough, we didn’t go back to that place on our own, jobs, people, life always getting in the way. Now I understand, then, it was no wonder the chicken never tasted the same.

Entry 2: Trial, one of many.

I still wonder how you always managed to show up, regardless of the way I constantly seemed to juggle with my own life. The first time I died, courtesy of Tobias Hankle’s dad, I wondered if my mom was going to be okay. Funny, huh? Even in death I found it hard to put my life first. I know that always pissed you off, and I never knew better, and I’m sorry to tell you I’ve kept the bad habit, I’m afraid.

Peaceful doesn’t quite describe the way it felt, my last breath I mean. Relieved, I guess, would fit better. I had told you before, hadn’t I? The hospital she was in, the books she liked best, the letters I wrote everyday. It was a hopeful relief, I craved that you would have come to care for me enough to look after my mother if I were to be gone.

Luckily, you didn’t get the chance to prove it, but many years later I would understand that, back then and there, you would have moved heaven and earth for me; and I should have known by the way your arms found me amidst the dark of that cemetery. I should have known by the way you stayed in my messy apartment throughout the night, by the way you held my arm when I woke up shaking in terror, and by the way you repeated that same routine every evening for almost a week.

Should have known after you dropped everything to meet me at Gideon’s cabin as I cried over his gun and badge, as I mourned someone that I hadn’t lost, as I yet again felt insufficient to remain, to make him stay. I’m still not sure why I called you. Perhaps you would share the burden of losing a mentor, or maybe you would notice that I was breaking down, that I was too weak to fix myself, and even weaker to ask for help. No one reached out for me because I never screamed, no one knew how bad I needed it. And yet, with a simple whisper miles away, you came. You showed up.

I should have known right when you were sitting by the toilet bowl, your hair tie loosely holding my hair together so it wouldn’t get dirty. Did I think I looked good with that? Why did I ever leave it that long? Stop, I can’t also be rambling while I write, not that you ever minded the infinite data of nothingness, did you? Circling back, I still feel the coldness of your fingers, pale with concern, as they curled around my trembling wrist while I threw up my guts and soul in that white container.

“You should go.” I would whisper in between gargles and spits.

“And leave you like this?” you weren’t even looking at me. I guess the image of my body bent over a basin, sickly and frail, was enough to be engraved in your mind with one glance.

“I’m just one of the 21 million americans that struggle with at least one addiction. I’m nothing special.” I grumbled with disdain “And you don’t have a magic wand you can wave and make it go away. You’re nothing special.”

You sighed at my words, by then you knew how stubborn I could be, am I correct? It didn’t take a profiler to figure out something like that. “Only 10% seek help, though. Those odds make you special enough, don’t you think?” If you said anything else, I cannot remember. I could only focus on the fast speed of my beating heart, that I mistook for undesired side-effects of the drugs.

Withdrawal can be hell, but I had already had a taste of that, so I figured I could handle a bit more of it. You, on the other hand, were not ready for the burden that was I. I could see the facade you put on whenever I said something so hurtful anyone else would have gone out running, the subtle swallowing of the knots in your throat, the deep, shaky breaths, the way your eyelids clung to the tears that threatened to come out. Yes, I should have known right then and there, after you met the worst of me, and yet stayed.

Entry 3: Did I care to share?

To be fair, you were a bit to blame for my obliviousness. A pure heart is a mystery for men who don’t know kindness, and life hadn’t been particularly tender to me. I had begun to question if, maybe, the lifeline that had become your gentle hand meant something else. But more often than not, I had learned that love follows after life, and if it had been gentle enough to give you to me, who was I, a mere mortal, to want more, to show greed.

You were there for Elle and her revolting, for Morgan and his search for his truth, for Garcia and her desire to cling to life after her very own kindness had almost taken it from her, and for Hotch and his falling into the darkest of despairs. You would tell me how you had to cancel plans to make him company, how you woke up extra early to make sure he’d have breakfast, how you’d pretend to be walking by his new bachelor apartment as an excuse to check up on him, and spend extra hours just so you could get him to talk in his office.I watched you worry and give your best to put a smile on a saddened face. Just like you had done for me, and the many people that we both loved. It hurt, it selfishly hurt. Your love was so vast it could fill a dam and still pour, yet my thirst could barely be quenched.

My skin still burns with the memory of your tears falling on my hand when I told you my cravings had started again. I saw the glint of failure in your eyes, like I had years ago with the children's book. It made me question if eidetic memory could translate to the sense of touch, to this day it is vivid, like they cover me again whenever I feel the urge, whenever I need to escape.

Once again, you showed up. You showed up at my apartment to pick me up, like a toddler waiting to be taken to the doctors, only that the person that would fix me was not a medic, it was a sponsor. I don’t think I’d have been brave enough to show up by myself, to get help on my own, if I hadn’t been so scared to hurt you again, probably bad enough to finally push you away.

It was okay, even if you were to be shared, if your heart had space for everyone else, I was happy to know I could belong as well, to be included. I was okay sharing you, as long as I got a piece.

Entry 4: The dreaded distance.

I never understood politics, or the system. Ironic, though, since human behavior is nothing but a mixture of different structures interacting together, creating a being that then I would dedicate my entire life to studying. But it was always so confusing, why would they rip you away from me? Didn’t they see how good you were? Perhaps that was the issue.

I still remember the way you clung to my chest when we were saying goodbye. Did the DEA really need you? Did it really have to be you? It wouldn’t be the only time the bureau would plot against me, against the hope I grasped on to continue doing my job, but it certainly was the hardest one, and mind you, the first one. The pain of having a friend ripped from my arms, a handful of things could only compare.

Hotch would later come to confess that my hatred for the superiors was unfunded. You were not taken, you were a tribute. When Strauss came in arms, you had to surrender to protect me. They made Aaron choose between me and you, one had to leave, it wasn’t up for discussion, and you volunteered. Because you knew, I could barely make it anywhere else.

“It’s been a while since I was hugged like this.” you said when we were strong enough to finally pull apart, when the clock was streaking 6, and there was no professional excuse to keep you in the building for longer.

“Like what?” I had to ask. You deserved to be engulfed in arms every waking second. You deserved to be carried by the holiest of angels. Why wouldn’t I hug you like we were in a Shakespearean tragedy?

“Like somebody was afraid of losing me.” you answered.

Oh, my love, was I terrified.

Maybe I am dramatic. You weren’t dead, you weren’t gone, just in a different building, in the same city. I knew where you lived, where you bought your coffee, and your favorite place to dine in. Yet, you felt so far away, so out of reach I could barely handle it. I missed you, so dearly, so madly.

Weekly escapades to the geekiest of places, a lousy street diner I was too scared to eat at, and that I would just because of you, the faking of high-fives whenever I got an idea, my favorite inside joke, the laughter in the bullpen at my unintentioned comments, the looking over my shoulder to see if you were still there, the joy in my chest whenever you entered the room, the love I didn’t know was love. All gone, away from me.

Your midnight calls were balm to an open wound. Calming at the stake of some pain. And I knew, one of the very few things I knew, that you weren’t doing good in that place, that your pain was greater than you would express, but your body wouldn’t lie to me, it could never lie to me, the sighs between sentences, the strain in your voice, the tiredness in your breath. But I wasn’t like you, I couldn’t just show up, I didn’t know how. I didn’t know I helped. I didn’t know I was to you what you were to me. A beacon of light, of hope.

I wondered what was hurting you. Was I not nice enough for you to tell me what, or who, was causing that to you? “Be nice” Hotch had said. Was he nicer? You always went to him for things like these, the matters of the heart. I had to hear from Garcia, months later, about that mysterious fellow agent that was making you cry, and I realized in that moment that I had never known rage. The pure, raw need to tear someone limb by limb. How dare he toy with a soul as giving as yours? Like using the crown jewel as a skipping stone.

Fortunately, I was not the only one that wanted to protect you. Not the only one that cared enough. A visit from Morgan, a call from Hotch, and the rat was gone, for good, and you were back in the unit, for better.

Entry 5: When I knew without knowing.

You’d changed, I could see, and I’d heard heartbreak does that to a person. Yet your smile always seemed to shine bright. It shone for our boss, swallowed in deep grief, it shone for JJ as she was, to no one’s surprise, cruelly taken from us, it shone for Prentiss and her struggles, the ones that were there even when she wouldn’t confess to them.

Do you remember the flame of my tears on your shoulder when I heard she was dead? I could barely stay home. The walls seemed to crush me if I was alone. I hopped from your house, to JJ’s, to the office, to yours yet again. Your arms were my solace, my God given solace. Whenever I turned, you were there.

I don’t know what was harder to deal with: her death or her return to life. How did you manage to not take a side? You felt the same pain I did. You cried the same tears I shed. I wondered if you were always stronger than me. Stupid question, the answer was yes.

“I’m just saying, Spencer.” you twirled around in my kitchen as you spoke, impatient since I was taking a long time to get ready, and there was an appointment to get to.

“Well, okay, then stop saying!” I was shoving a couple of books and other belongings, I can’t even remember what, as I subtly yelled at you.

Time and again, the stupid book would slip out whenever I tried to close my bag. It was frustrating, infuriating. Kind as you were, you kneeled with me, your hand brushed mine, and a mere graze was enough to slow me down. I looked at you. Did you see pain? I know you did. You always did. My body couldn’t lie to you.

“I feel it too.” you began to talk “The guilt. The wishing that she was still gone so you wouldn’t have to go through the excruciating pain of betrayal.” bullseye, as per usual. I started to cry; you always made me comfortable enough to break down without care. “If you truly don’t wish to make up with them, the girls, I’ll be on your side. You have the right to feel hurt. If you tell me, right now, hand to heart, that you want to skip Rossi’s dinner and go catch that ridiculous black and white movie, I’ll get up and walk beside you, like I’ve done countless times, and I will also be there, when you are filled with regret, and the words can’t leave your mouth to ask for their forgiveness for your attitude.”

Dragged by your hand, we showed up, and I felt it, the memory of a feeling long not emoted, the warmth of family. You were right, you were always right. I walked you to your place that night, stumbling a little from the wine, laughing about something Garcia and Morgan had said. We stood by your doorway, and you stopped. You looked at me, so deeply, so filled with pride. How could I be so stupid? I should have kissed you at that moment. I should have hugged you in a way you hadn’t before, in a way that told you that in this and many other lives, I needed you with me. I needed you to be mine.

Entry 6: The start of my demise.

I still wonder how you did it. How did you stand beside me with a straight face while you broke on the inside? Watching me slowly fall for someone else to a point of no return, a point of devotion you had long earned.

You knew about Maeve before anyone else. I didn’t have to tell you, my smile gave me away, since you knew it better than anyone, you were the one that put it back there more than once. You supported my every move, my every whim, my every idea to please her, to make her love me. And she loved me, and I loved her, there’s no point in hiding it.

How did you do it? Seriously, how did you advise me to court her and hear me rant about her like she was the latest scientific breakthrough? How did you wear a straight face as mine lit up at the thought of her name? How did you pour your heart out to help me find her? All while wearing that damned smile, the cursed reason for my existence. How did you not fall in shambles as you watched me love her? I would have, without question.

So, I beg of you to tell me. How could you possibly love me while I loved someone else?

It’s like a riddle whose answer is before me, but I can’t see it, I can’t find it. To this day it amazes me, the way that you remained outside my door throughout the night. Did you think I didn’t know you were there? The way you took care of my food and services. Did you know I couldn’t bring myself to even check my bank account? The way you saw through me when I came back to work. You knew I wasn’t okay, regardless of my attempts to prove so.

You remained for months by my side, showing up at my door when the night got too cold, holding my head on your lap as I sobbed, as I, once again, mourned. You stood there with me trying to fix something someone else had broken, something you didn’t even know if you could glue back together.

“If I believed in religion, at least I could cling to the hope of meeting her again.” I muttered, and you laughed a bit.

“Perhaps in another universe, if you’re lucky enough.” smart of you to talk to me in terms I could understand.

“It doesn’t feel like it will ever end, you know? The grief.” I confessed to you as your fingers threaded on my locks, body too tired to hold up straight from crying, so my head laid on your thigh.

“It will.” you reassured “Maybe not soon, but it will.”

“Maybe.” I could only agree “but I can’t count on you to soothe my pain forever.” I only looked up because your fingers stopped moving, but I’m glad I did, I’m glad I caught your eyes, filled with endless determination, as you spoke.

“Says who?” did you mean it? Forever?

Entry 7: All that’s well…

After JJ’s abduction, something drastically changed. Not just the two of us, but the entire team. Our secrets were no longer innocent and blameless, they were dangerous, harmful. They could tear us apart if not properly shared. They could push us away if we didn’t say them outright.

My love for you was my deepest rooted secret, pushed so far into the drawer I had forgotten about it myself, too scared to pull it out, afraid I’d just have to push it back in without giving it a chance to show off.

No more secrets. That’s the pact we all agreed on. I kept thinking about that as you walked with me. You knew it had hit me hard to see JJ so weak and hurt, reduced to bruises and agony; you also knew I would find a way to blame myself if I were to be left alone in that room, so you decided to make me some company. We dined in silence, utter absence of sound that did not, at any moment, feel odd. You walked with me, not next to me, with me. And you waited by the door for my invitation to enter. I could just stare at you, so beautifully patient, so wonderfully loving. So easy to love.

“No more secrets.” I told you, my eyes unable to leave your face.

“Yes, Spence. No more secrets.” you answered with that blissful smile of yours. You caught up rather quick that I was hiding something. I could never fool you, not you. “Is there something else you need to tell me?” you questioned me, and I could see the look in your eyes trying to subtly profile me.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Over 7,000 languages are spoken in this world, and there were still not enough words to describe what I felt for you. I didn’t talk. My lips just found their way to yours, so naturally, so right.

“This is a mistake.” you muttered. You were still unsure, you would tell me later, that life could be so kind to you, to have me love you. How silly of you, darling, to even dare to think I could not.

Our bodies didn’t lie, they couldn’t lie to each other. Your tongue gave you away, it spoke of truce but tasted of war. Your hands explored all of my body, they felt my every vein, and tasted the pulse of a heart that beat for you. Your mouth spilled honey-like sounds as I greedily took every part of you for my pleasure. As I embedded your scent in my brain, to the record of things I loved about you. I had never made love. Sex, once or twice, but never love. I remember watching you sleep, your warm cheek on my bare chest; your hands, even unconsciously, clinging to my torso as if I were to slip away like a dream. But you felt so real, oh honey, you were so real. You were so mine. And I couldn’t remember the last time I was held so close I could touch love.

I can still hear Hotch’s sermon. No more secrets, that’s what we pacted, and you were big on promises, but to be fair, so was I. An hour, I recall, we were shoved inside that office. Hands together, faces down, like children caught in the act.

“Fraternization is dangerous,” it was his third time saying that “and if this were to come out, I would have to transfer one of you.” we didn’t care, and he could tell. He sighed, in defeat. “Just tell me one thing.” he changed directions “Are you happy?”

He was asking you, yet pretended the question was for both. You didn’t entertain him with an answer. He already knew. He knew in the way you reached for my hand, in the way I held back a smile. He nodded. Did he approve? I don’t think we’ll ever know, but he protected us, he always protected us.

That day, we drank and danced all together, as if our love was a reason for celebration. Apparently, it wasn’t a secret to anyone but us. Long ago they figured we’d end up together, even got some complaints for having been later rather than sooner.

Life was good and kind with you by my side, filled with laughter, adventure, and pleasure. The darkest nights still glimmered with your presence, like a blindfold being lifted to reveal the cold truth; all it took for life to be kind was me loving you, and you loving me.

Entry 8: Alone we stand

When did I stop making sense? Curiously enough, that’s the one moment I can’t pinpoint. I broke a promise, and the downfall caught up.

“Were you even going to tell me?!” you paced around my apartment in rage.

“Come on, you know I was” I had gotten defensive, regardless of my wrongdoing.

“When, exactly? After you had fixed it? ‘Cause you have to fix everything alone?” you snarked at me.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s a private matter.” worst phrasing I could have chosen, to be honest.

“I’m your girlfriend, Spence. I think I have proven for quite a while now that I’m here for the bad and the worst. Instead, I have to find out your mother has Alzheimer’s through a hitman. You told a hitman before you told me!” I see now, that your anger was not unfounded.

“She had a gun to my crotch! What did you want me to do!?” I tried to argue.

“Oh, okay, so that’s what it takes to get you to open up?”

No, you didn’t hold a gun to my crotch. You did way worse, you forgave me, and we moved on. But it was never the same, oh no, I could feel it, we both could feel it. How conversations seemed to require more energy, how the touches were more scripted than impulsive, how after a few hours you realized that you hadn’t thought about me in a little while.

I tried to fix it. It’s what I always do. Perhaps if I could get us both in the same place, it would happen again, the spark that we had lost. I asked you to move in with me, and you agreed. We were happy again, not simply because of the fact, but because it was a great reminder for both of us, that the future was together, it had always been together.

But alas, life isn’t kind enough. We had agreed to find a new place, somewhere we could turn ‘ours’ without getting rid of the ‘mine’. It was taking time, of course, since we wanted it to be perfect. And little did we know that time was the only thing in this world we didn’t have.

The news of Hotch’s departure hurt us all in a way we never truly recovered from, but for you, for the never-ending-loving you, it left a wound I couldn’t close. I saw the always dreaded glint of loneliness in your eye, the same one I carried when Gideon left. I saw the breaking of a soul that had lost a mentor, a protector, you lost the ground you walked onto and never learned how to fly.

We didn’t make it. I don’t think it was your fault, or mine, for that matter, life just happened so fast, so merciless. I loved you, that never stopped, and you loved me, I know that much. All I could do was hold on to the hope that I had made the right decision, the decision to push you away, to save you from the torture that our life would be. I would do anything for my mother, even if that meant standing back on my own, without you.

I’m sorry, my love, that it took me so long to understand. That the strength you were lending me was not for me to judge, but to carry, to use as a tool to build what we dreamed of . I didn’t learn about it until JJ visited one day, when I was mourning the love that we had, that she told me what happened the day she showed up at your apartment, knees on the ground, to beg you to continue loving me.

“It wasn’t my decision, Jennifer.” you said, barely allowing yourself to glance at her.

“He’s just doing this because he thinks he’s protecting you, you know that.” she tried to argue on my behalf.

“JJ, you are his best friend, if you’re asking me to convince him to change his mind, you know it would be easier to get Garcia to play soccer.” you were right, by the way. JJ was about to give up.

“He needs you.” she kept trying.

“No, he doesn’t.” you answered “He needs someone to be there for him, at his constant back and call, to dedicate their very being to his happiness, to pour out the entirety of themselves onto him, and I can’t be that person. I can’t.”

“But why not!?” to her, it also didn’t make much sense. You always were, what was different this time?

“Because I’m not whole.” you finally admitted.

She had to hear you cry for hours at how lost you felt. I didn’t understand I’d become a part of you, and by taking me away, I was ripping a portion of who you were. With Hotch gone, there was no way you could fix yourself, not fast enough, at least. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t know.

You stayed for the man that more than once had your back. You stayed to catch Mr. Scratch. I was no longer the hope you held on to, I was no longer the one you chased after, Aaron was your last hope, your last piece to make sense of whatever you felt like was happening around you. The person who would return to you the will to love something that wasn’t me.

But he wasn’t there, and you were lost.

Entry 9: Together we fall apart.

I can’t blame you for leaving, you had no reason to stay, the job had long ago stopped making sense, it was the people that you loved what made you stick around, and now we were gone, in more than one sense. And believe when I say I missed you, with every pore of my heart, even if I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to at least know how you were doing.

I did wonder, though, if having you around would have made a difference. If you could have seen something all of us missed, if you had protected me better, if you could had helped me when I didn’t know how to help myself.

Cat Adams would ruin me in more than one way, sure, but regarding us, I’m sure now I’m the only one to blame. A series of unfortunate events by Spencer Reid.

“We told her you were in prison.” Emily said as she sat across the booth, with a crystal screen separating the both of us. There was no need to say your name. They all knew you were all I ever thought about. “She’s asking to be put on the list.”

“Emily!” I yelled out of reflex .

“I’m sorry, Spence, but she’s really worried, and maybe she could help.”

“My answer is no.” I watched her sigh as I said those words.

“Can I at least tell her you’re thinking about it?” she still tried to convince me, for your sake. “And, will you think about it?” I nodded.

I promise I thought it through, hard and well. It’s not that I didn’t want to see you, I didn’t want you to see me. I knew, I knew you would try to fix it, and I couldn’t do that to you, not again. Regardless, you still tried. You made sure my mother was safe and well, you made her company, it wasn’t your fault, I don’t hold it against you, they outsmarted us all. And I’m sorry, again, that after I was freed I still couldn’t bring myself to face you.

Many things happened in the following years. I wish I could have seen you one more time just to tell you all about it. A coffee by my apartment window, a nap on that comfy living room couch, a laugh by the bullpen. The things I’d have done to have one more moment with you.

The second time I died, it was way less scary. Guess I had some practice. If I told you who I saw, you wouldn’t have believed me, but it was the message that counted. I wasn’t ready to go, and I wasn’t ready to leave you. If I were to stay, I was going to fight to at least see you one more time, to hear your laugh once again.

My mom did tell me that I should be careful what I wish for, and when I woke up in that hospital room, after a horrible stroke nonetheless, I understood why.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” Penelope remained for a second by my bed after my mom had left to get some water.

My eyebrows furrowed the slightest, I couldn’t move that much. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t know if you were going to make it, and I didn’t think much before I hit the call.” she continued to explain.

Again, I could only tilt my head in confusion, something about having brain failure had made me the tiniest bit slower. The fog cleared very quickly, though, once I saw you walk through the door. You were as beautiful as the day I met you, only now I could see, and I would never cease to see. You walked to the bed and your hand reached out for mine, like it was supposed to be.

“Hey, you.” you said softly.

“Hey,” I muttered. If I had been able to breathe better, believe me I would have yelled out like an excited 5 year old “what are you doing here?”

“I recently realized I’ve grown into the habit of showing up after you almost died.” you joked, and it was like time hadn’t passed at all “which, if you ask me, it’s a weird habit to have.” it was my turn to laugh, you always caused that in me.

Penelope had stepped out, she knew we needed the space, as for our souls could only be bare if it was just the two of us. You came closer, and our eyes met, and time actually stopped, and everything was okay.

“I will always love you.” I’m sorry I said it like that, I know it’s not what you expected.

“Spencer…” you began to talk.

“No, just,” I cut you off “I know I can get it right this time.” the way that you looked at me I will never forget, a look you had never given me, that you respected me too much to give me, the look of pity.

“I’m not a second chances program” you started “I couldn’t just wait around until you were ready to notice that I was still there, that you allowed me back in.”

Your tears threatened to fall. I could see them, that’s not what I wanted, that’s never what I wanted. I reached for your face, and you leaned against my hand. Old habits die hard, don’t they? I should know, since I had fallen into the habit of wanting you, of loving you. This and every other life. I couldn’t hold them any longer, the sobs, the tears, the pain, the pain only you could heal, only you could let me show. I love you because of your strength, since it allowed me to be weak without remorse.

You did the same for me, your gentle fingers caressing my cheek, pushing away the salty droplets. “It’s okay, Spencer, it’s okay.” you whispered “we have to let us go.”

“And if we’re lucky enough?” I asked.

“If we’re lucky enough,” your face smiled, but the strain in your voice showed me the misery in your words, along with their genuinity “in another universe, you would have been with Maeve and I would have never loved you. And we could finally be happy.”

You couldn’t have been more wrong to think, even for a second, that my destiny was any other than you. I didn’t have the words to prove it, I could form a sentence to save my life, save the love of my life. I tried to kiss you. I wish you had done it, you would have understood.

“My boyfriend is waiting outside.” you muttered before my lips could meet home, and like that, you were gone.

Entry 10: I think I’ll be alright.

I never saw you again, but it’s okay. Years to come I would question every decision I had made, did they lead me to you, or just pushed you away? There was no way of telling. Regrets are a broken sword, dull enough to be harmless, and sharp enough to hurt. Would you have done something differently? I doubt so.

I’m thankful, nonetheless, to have been given the opportunity to concur. To have been loved by you. I did wish for a different ending, but who am I to be selfish? I had it all, even if I lost it. Until years later I would hear about your marriage; you eloped, as we always thought we would do, planning a wedding was too much of a hassle. Did you end up having kids? If you did, lucky them, if something they were to never lack, it would be love. I hope he is treating you well, that you are happy, like you always deserved.

Me? I finally had to learn. The grief finally went away, you see, someone once told me that love comes in moments, and later in life I found myself clinging to that thought. If love comes in moments, my darling, after everything we've been through, yours will last me a million years.

Even if I got just a fraction of it.”

The silence was covered by the rustling of book pages as the woman finished speaking. Yet her crowd of one didn’t seem to show much reaction, which was a source of concern.

"Spencer, would you like me to read it again?" Penelope asked as she swayed back and forth on the rocking chair the staff had given to her.

"Sorry?" he asked, seemingly lost in thought.

"Ma'am." a gentle nurse interrupted them "visitation time is over, Dr. Reid has to rest."

"Of course." the once blonde woman, whose hair now shone silver, said as she handed the diary back to his owner "Here, take this."

"Is this mine?" a still confused Spencer continued to question.

"Yes, it's your favorite book." she reiterated.

"Really?" his fingers fidgeted with the cover "What is it about?"

Penelope couldn't help the way her eyes filled with water, like they did every week whenever she had to leave the friend she'd visit in that mental facility without fail.

"The greatest love story ever told."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid #fic: spencer #fics: spencer #fic: mine #fic: criminal minds

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