#it will never be what you had the person you lost but it's something different and it's still something good and it makes you happy

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Forever & Always

Summary: At 28-years-old Spencer Reid finally has his first girlfriend, you. You are bold, confident, and experienced, everything he's not, and he feels very insecure because of it. You own your own nightclub, and when Sean Hotchner needs a job, you let him come and work for you. Spencer can't handle this attractive womanizer being in your space all day long. Will the two of you make it through this?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, virgin Spencer, insecurities, not trusting partner, arguing, threatening people, therapy

Word count: 22.3k

a/n: Sean Hotchner is a treat for the eyes ,, but no one will ever be better than Spencer -- genuinely one of my favorite fics !!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: grinding, finishing in pants (m), light breast play, handjob

Spencer had always been confident in his knowledge, his intelligence a constant source of reassurance in his life. But this—this was different. Sitting across from you in the dimly lit coffee shop, his eyes flickered nervously to the table, then back to you. You were animated, telling a story about your friends, your laugh bright and infectious, but Spencer found it hard to focus. His mind kept drifting back to that quiet, gnawing feeling that had been lurking for a while now. 

You were his first real girlfriend. At 28, Spencer Reid had never been in a serious relationship, at least not one that had progressed beyond awkward dates or brief romantic entanglements that always seemed to fizzle out before they even began. But you were different. You were confident, experienced in ways he wasn’t. It wasn’t just about the relationship itself. It was everything. You had dated other people before him, had your fair share of relationships and even casual hook-ups. The weight of it pressed down on him like an invisible burden, one he wasn’t sure how to navigate.

Spencer forced a smile, willing the tension in his chest to settle as you finished your story, your words floating through the air like a melody. He didn’t want to let on that something was bothering him, not when he saw how happy you looked. He couldn’t be the one to disrupt that joy. 

“Spence?” Your voice softened as you noticed the subtle shift in his expression, the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long, as if he was lost in thought. “You okay?”

He blinked, his face instantly smoothing into a look of reassurance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, his voice a bit too light. “I was just really... engaged in what you were saying. You always tell such great stories.”

Your smile brightened, the warmth of his words making you feel lighter, like you were walking on air. You chuckled, your fingers playing with the rim of your coffee cup as you gazed at him. “You smooth talker.”

Spencer returned your smile, but beneath it, a twinge of doubt lingered. He didn’t want you to think there was anything wrong—didn’t want to give away the insecurity gnawing at him. He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling unsure about something. But the thought of appearing inferior to you, of not being enough, was something he couldn’t shake.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to the internal struggle he was masking. You were just happy—so incredibly happy. In all your past relationships, there had been a constant feeling of walking on eggshells, of waiting for things to fall apart. But with Spencer, it was different. He was different. His kindness, his gentle heart, his brilliant mind—it was everything you hadn’t even realized you were searching for.

Spencer was the best person you had ever dated. And it scared you, deeply. The fear of messing things up gnawed at the back of your mind constantly. What if this ended the same way your past relationships had? What if this incredible thing you had with Spencer was fleeting, destined to crumble just like all the others?

But you didn’t want to think about that now. Not when you were sitting here with him, sharing moments that felt real, that felt good. You let out a breath, pushing away the nagging thoughts. Spencer made you feel like maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

You caught his gaze again, your eyes softening as you took him in. “You know,” you started, leaning in a little closer, “I feel so lucky to have met you, Spencer. You’re... you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever been with.”

Spencer's heart ached at your words, a bittersweet pang that settled deep in his chest. You said it with such sincerity, such affection, but all he could hear were the things that made him different in a way he didn’t want to be. Of course, he was unlike anyone else you’d been with. How could he compare to the others? He was awkward, inexperienced, and—by his own assessment—weird. The guy who overthought everything, who could recite obscure facts but had no idea how to casually flirt or initiate a kiss without rehearsing it a dozen times in his head first.

So he forced a weak smile, nodding as if your words had filled him with the same happiness they brought you. But inside, it only made him feel more out of place, like he was somehow failing at this relationship without you even knowing.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. He wanted to say more, wanted to tell you that being with you was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But instead, he let the moment pass, watching as your face lit up with excitement, diving into another story.

He focused on your words, or at least tried to. You had this way of captivating him, of pulling him into whatever you were talking about, but right now, it was harder to stay present. The feeling of inadequacy, of not being enough, pressed heavily on him. As you talked about past adventures, dates with friends, and experiences that felt so far removed from anything he’d ever known, Spencer couldn’t help as his fingers nervously tapped against the side of his cup, his mind wandering.

—

It was late, well past midnight, when you noticed Spencer’s quiet sigh as he shifted beside you in bed. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. You had been reading, but you couldn’t focus on the book in your hands. Not when you could feel the weight of something pressing down on Spencer.

You set the book aside, turning onto your side to face him, your hand resting gently on his chest. “Spence,” you whispered softly, “what’s going on?”

His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he sighed again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm where it draped over him. “I don’t know,” he muttered, though the heaviness in his voice said otherwise.

You waited, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. That was how these late-night conversations always started. Sometimes it took a while for Spencer to find the words to express what was on his mind, and you had learned to give him that space.

Eventually, he turned his head to look at you, his brow furrowed, eyes shadowed with the insecurities he often tried to hide. “It’s just... I keep thinking about how different we are. You’ve had all these experiences, and I... haven’t. I’m still figuring things out, and sometimes I worry... I worry that it’s not enough for you. That I’m not enough.”

Your heart ached for him, the depth of his vulnerability cutting through the quiet of the night. You shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. “Spencer,” you whispered against his shoulder, “I don’t care about any of that. You being a—less experienced… doesn’t matter to me. It never has, and it never will.”

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his arms coming around you in return, but the tension in his body didn’t fully ease. “But what if... what if you change your mind? What if one day you realize I’m... I’m just not enough? I don’t know how to be what you deserve.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. “Spence, listen to me,” you said firmly but gently. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I didn’t fall in love with you because of some checklist of experiences or expectations. I fell in love with you. All of you. The dorkiness, the brilliance, the way you look at the world. I don’t care if you never want to have sex, or if we figure it out together. What matters is that I love you, exactly as you are.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering down to where your fingers were tracing soothing circles on his chest. “I want to believe that,” he whispered, his voice so small, so fragile.

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “I know it’s hard,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. With you. Always.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing and the quiet hum of the world outside. Spencer’s grip on you tightened as if holding on to the reassurance you offered. The doubt didn’t disappear entirely—it never really did. But you could feel him relax into your embrace, letting himself lean on you, trusting in your words even if the insecurities still lingered.

“You know,” you said after a while, a playful lilt entering your voice to lighten the mood, “you’re not the only one who has insecurities, Spence.”

He turned his head, curiosity softening the edges of his earlier worry. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m terrified of messing this up. Of somehow ruining the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Your voice was light, but the truth behind it was evident.

His brow furrowed, clearly confused. “You? You’re worried about messing things up?”

You nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Yeah. Every relationship I’ve had before this… it’s ended in an unsavory way. I don’t want that to happen with us, I don’t want us to end at all. You’re different, Spencer. In the best way. And I want this to last.”

Spencer’s expression softened, a small, almost shy smile appearing on his face. “I guess we’re both a little scared, then.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, resting your forehead against his. “But we’re in this together, okay? No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out.”

He kissed you then, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a promise. When you pulled away, he whispered, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “You deserve every bit of happiness, Spencer Reid. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Though the insecurities never fully went away, they didn’t define your relationship. Over time, those late-night conversations became a safe place for both of you, a time to share your fears and your hopes, to remind each other of what you had.

And despite the occasional moments of doubt, you and Spencer were happy—truly happy. You built a relationship that was healthy, full of love, trust, and understanding. You were a team, navigating life together, and every step forward only brought you closer.

Because, in the end, it wasn’t about who had more experience or who was more confident. It was about being there, for each other, in every way that mattered. And that was more than enough.

—

Sean Hotchner leaned against the doorframe of Aaron’s office, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the professional atmosphere of the BAU. His hair was longer than Aaron remembered, tousled in a way that made it look like he had just rolled out of bed. The leather jacket slung over his shoulder was worn, his jeans frayed at the edges. Aaron barely looked up from his paperwork as Sean cleared his throat, but the tension in the room was palpable.

"Sean," Aaron greeted flatly, his tone carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken frustrations. He didn’t even need to ask why his younger brother was here. Sean only showed up when he needed something.

“Aaron, man, I need help,” Sean began, already trying to soften his tone as he stepped inside. He glanced at the bullpen behind him, noticing the open door but not caring enough to close it. "I, uh, got fired from my job. Again."

Aaron’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching around the pen he held. "And?"

"And I lost my apartment," Sean continued, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have anywhere to go. I was hoping… I could crash with you for a bit. Just until I get back on my feet."

Aaron finally looked up, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied his brother. His fingers drummed impatiently against the desk as he exhaled through his nose. “So, let me get this straight—you got fired, again, and now you’re asking to live with me? Sean, this is the third time. When are you going to take responsibility for your life?”

Sean shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his boots. “I know, I know. It’s just... I hit a rough patch, alright? I’ll figure it out, I just need some time.”

Aaron’s frustration boiled just beneath the surface, his voice rising slightly, enough that it carried out into the bullpen. “You always say that, Sean. ‘I’ll figure it out.’ But you never do. I can’t keep bailing you out every time you screw up.”

In the bullpen, the conversation didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone sat at their desks, their eyes darting toward Aaron’s office. Emily leaned over to JJ, lowering her voice but not enough to hide her words.

“Is that Hotch’s brother?” Emily whispered, her eyes widening as she watched Sean from across the room.

JJ nodded, her gaze flicking between Aaron’s stern expression and Sean’s slouched posture. “Yeah, that’s Sean. He hasn’t been around in a while.”

Penelope, standing nearby, leaned in with wide, curious eyes. “Okay, but, uh... is it just me or is Sean... kind of hot?”

Emily raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on her lips. “Oh, it’s not just you. He’s definitely got that... bad boy thing going on.”

JJ chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You two are terrible.”

Penelope shrugged dramatically. “What? I mean, I’ve heard stories, but I didn’t know Hotch had such an attractive brother! Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d be thinking some very impure thoughts right now.”

“Garcia,” JJ admonished lightly, but she was clearly amused.

They all tried to suppress their laughter, watching as Aaron’s stern voice carried into the bullpen, his frustration with Sean evident. But they couldn’t help the whispered commentary as Sean stood there, looking like the picture of trouble.

“I’d hate to see what Hotch is going to do to him once that door closes,” Emily mused, shaking her head. “But I have to admit, he’s got a certain... charm.”

Penelope wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “Maybe I should go in there and offer him some moral support.”

JJ rolled her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what he needs right now.”

Back in the office, Aaron had stood up, his hands planted firmly on his desk as he glared at Sean. "You need to grow up, Sean. This can’t keep happening. I’ve got Jack to think about now. I’m not running a halfway house."

Sean's shoulders slumped, his voice lowering as he tried to appease his brother. "I know, Aaron. But I don’t have anyone else. Please, just this one last time. I swear I won’t mess it up."

Aaron ran a hand over his face, torn between anger and the sense of duty he always felt toward his family, no matter how much they disappointed him. His voice softened slightly, but only just. “This is the last time, Sean. I mean it.”

Sean gave a small nod, grateful but visibly embarrassed, as he mumbled, “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

As he turned to leave the office, the gossiping trio quickly straightened up, trying to look busy. But as Sean made his way toward the exit, Penelope couldn’t resist shooting one last glance, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean... Hotch’s brother, right? Who knew?”

JJ stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she turned back to her paperwork. Meanwhile, Emily just smiled knowingly, her eyes trailing after Sean for a moment longer before settling back into work.

No one noticed Spencer sitting at his desk behind them, listening to every word.

—

That evening you and Spencer sat across from each other at your dining table, plates of food between you, but Spencer’s voice held an unusual tension as he recounted the events of the day. His fork poked absentmindedly at his meal, his eyes flickering between you and his plate as he spoke.

“So, Sean Hotchner showed up at the bureau today,” Spencer began, his tone neutral but carrying an undercurrent of something heavier. “Apparently, he’s having a tough time. Lost his job again.”

You tilted your head slightly, setting your fork down to give him your full attention. “Sean? Aaron’s younger brother, right?”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah. He’s... been bouncing around, trying to figure things out. He came to Hotch for help, and it sounds like he’s pretty desperate.”

You sighed softly, a familiar pang tugging at your heart. You knew that feeling all too well—the desperation, the uncertainty of trying to rebuild when everything felt like it was crumbling. “That’s rough. I feel for him. It’s not easy trying to make something of yourself when you’ve hit rock bottom.”

Spencer glanced at you, his brows knitting together slightly. He knew your story, knew how hard you had worked to pull yourself up and build something successful out of nothing. Owning a nightclub wasn’t just a job—it was a symbol of everything you had overcome.

You took a sip of your drink, lost in thought for a moment before something clicked. “Does Sean have any bartending experience?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh, yeah, actually. He’s worked at a few bars. That’s where he got fired from, this last place.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reached for your phone, fingers quickly typing out a message. Spencer watched, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, though his curiosity was piqued.

You looked up, still smiling as you explained, “I’m texting Hotch. I can offer Sean a working interview tomorrow at my club. We’re always looking for good bartenders, and if he’s in need, it’s worth a shot, right?”

Spencer froze, his fork hovering in mid-air, his brain scrambling to catch up with what you’d just said. He forced a smile, but there was a storm brewing inside him. Not because you had texted Hotch—Spencer had long accepted that your relationship with his boss had developed into a friendly, professional one—but because of Sean.

He had seen Sean walk into the bureau today, watched as the women in the office had practically swooned when they saw him. Sean was tall, undeniably attractive, with an easy charm that Spencer knew was irresistible. It didn’t help that Sean had a reputation. Spencer knew he had “gotten around,” experienced in ways that Spencer wasn’t. And now, Sean was going to be working for you, in your club, where you’d be seeing him regularly.

Jealousy gnawed at Spencer’s insides, dark and insidious, feeding on his deepest fears—that one day, someone else would come along. Someone like Sean. More experienced, more charming, more… everything.

But he couldn’t let you see that. He couldn’t let you know how much this was eating at him. So, instead, he plastered on a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned back in his chair.

“That’s... that’s really generous of you,” Spencer said, his voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil he felt. “I’m proud of you, honestly. It’s such a kind thing to do, helping him out like that.”

You beamed at his words, unaware of the storm raging inside him. “Well, it just makes sense, you know? If he’s a good bartender, why not give him a chance? It’s not like I’m handing him the job—he still has to prove himself.”

Spencer nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you. He could see how happy you were to be able to help, how genuine your intentions were, and it only made him feel worse for the insecurities twisting in his gut.

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “I love you, Spence,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I’m glad you’re okay with this. I was worried you might think I was overstepping by getting involved.”

Spencer swallowed hard, squeezing your hand gently. “Of course I’m okay with it,” he lied, his smile still in place. “I love you too, and I’m so proud of how much you’ve accomplished. You’re always looking out for people, giving them chances. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

You smiled again, leaning across the table to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Spence. That means a lot.”

As the conversation shifted to other topics, Spencer kept his mask firmly in place, not letting his doubts show. But deep down, that gnawing feeling refused to go away. No matter how much he tried to push it aside, the thought lingered: What if one day, you realized someone like Sean was better?

—

Sean had already impressed you the moment he walked through the doors of your nightclub, right on time for his working interview. Dressed in the attire you had specified—black from head to toe—he looked sharp and professional. You had expected someone more casual, maybe even a bit cocky given his reputation, but Sean Hotchner showed up ready to work.

Aaron had called earlier that morning, expressing his gratitude for your offer. "I really appreciate this," he had said, his voice heavy with something between relief and exhaustion. "But you don’t have to feel obligated to help Sean. He’s not your responsibility."

You had assured Aaron you didn’t mind at all. After all, you were always on the lookout for good bartenders. "Especially since I just promoted my best bartender to the VIP level," you had explained. “We’ve got space to fill, and if Sean can handle the bar, it’ll be a win-win.”

Now, as you watched Sean behind the bar, you felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. He moved with precision, taking orders smoothly, mixing drinks quickly, and keeping up with the flow of the night like a seasoned professional. It was clear he had experience, and that gave you a sense of relief. You had taken a chance on him by allowing him to skip the usual server stage, something you typically required of all new hires. But it seemed like that gamble was paying off.

You made your way over to the bar as Sean finished serving a group of customers. He noticed you approaching and straightened up, giving you a nod. "How’s it going?" you asked, leaning against the counter with an approving smile.

“So far, so good,” Sean replied, a hint of confidence in his voice. “I’m used to a fast pace. It feels good to be back behind the bar.”

You smiled, appreciating his composure. “I have to say, you’re doing a great job. I usually don’t let people jump straight to bartending, but you’ve handled everything perfectly tonight.”

Sean’s face lit up with a genuine smile, his posture relaxing a little. "Thanks, that means a lot."

You nodded, understanding the weight of those words. "I think we can skip the formalities—if you’re interested, the job’s yours."

Sean’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by the offer. "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that," you confirmed. "You’ve shown me enough tonight. You know what you’re doing, and I could use someone like you on the team."

He blinked, momentarily taken aback by the swiftness of it all, before breaking into a grin. "Thank you. Seriously, I won’t let you down."

"You’d better not," you teased, giving him a wink. "Welcome to the team."

As Sean returned to his work, you stood back, watching him interact with customers and noticing how well he fit in with the atmosphere of the club. He was a natural behind the bar, and you were already confident in your decision. 

The next day, before the crowd came in, Aaron stopped by to check on his brother. As you greeted him, he glanced toward the bar, where Sean was preparing before what was supposed to be a busy shift.

"I have to thank you again," Aaron said, his tone sincere. "Sean needed this, more than you know."

You shook your head, brushing off the sentiment with a smile. "He’s doing a great job. Honestly, I think I’m the one who got lucky. You were right—he’s not my responsibility, but I’m happy to have him here."

Aaron gave a small, appreciative nod, his face softening. "I’ll make sure he knows how grateful he should be. You’ve done more for him than you realize."

You smiled, watching as Sean continued his work, his focus sharp and his movements steady. "He’s earned it, Aaron. I’m glad I took the chance."

Later that night, the club was in full swing, lights flashing in sync with the beat of the music, and the energy was palpable. People crowded the dance floor, moving to the rhythm, while others clustered around the bar, talking and laughing as they sipped their drinks. You navigated the floor easily, greeting regulars and keeping an eye on how things were running. It was a typical Friday night—lively, loud, and just the way you liked it.

In the center of the dance floor, Derek and Emily were having the time of their lives. Derek had drawn Emily out to dance almost as soon as they arrived, and now the two were lost in the music. Emily laughed as Derek spun her around, her dark hair flying as she moved effortlessly with him. Their laughter echoed even over the thumping bass, and it was clear that they were in their element, shaking off the stress of the week.

“Come on, Em! You can do better than that!” Derek teased, flashing her that playful grin he was famous for.

“Oh, you think so?” Emily shot back, her competitive side kicking in as she matched his dance moves with a flick of her hips. “Watch and learn, Morgan.”

Nearby, JJ stood at a high-top table, sipping a cocktail while watching them, shaking her head with an amused smile. “They’re ridiculous,” she said, laughing softly.

“They’re having fun,” Penelope added, her eyes glowing with excitement as she scanned the room. “This place is amazing! Y/N has really outdone herself!”

But Spencer was quieter than the rest, standing a little farther back from the group, his drink untouched in his hand as his eyes remained locked on the bar where Sean worked. He wasn’t dancing or chatting like the others; his focus was entirely on you and Sean. Spencer’s jaw tightened slightly as he watched the two of you exchanging easy conversation. You stood at the bar, laughing at something Sean said as he mixed drinks with practiced ease.

Sean was good, no doubt about it. He looked completely in his element behind the bar, effortlessly charming customers as he handed out drinks, his smile quick and easy. And there you were, standing beside him, looking equally relaxed and at home in your own nightclub. You smiled at Sean, gave him a friendly nudge as you helped out, your laughter ringing out above the hum of the crowd.

Spencer’s grip on his glass tightened just a fraction.

"Spence?" JJ’s voice pulled him out of his spiral. She was looking at him with concern, her head tilted slightly. "You good?"

Spencer quickly forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.��

JJ gave him a knowing look but didn’t press further. “You sure? You’ve been staring at the bar for a while now.”

Spencer swallowed, forcing his gaze away from the scene. “Just... keeping an eye on things,” he said, trying to sound casual.

But his eyes drifted back, drawn to the way you leaned in close to talk to Sean, laughing easily at something he said. Spencer clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the irrational jealousy. He didn’t want to feel this way—not when he trusted you so deeply. But the insecurities simmered just beneath the surface, no matter how much he tried to tamp them down.

At the bar, you noticed Spencer’s gaze from across the room, giving him a quick wave and a bright smile, unaware of the storm brewing in his head. Spencer waved back, forcing himself to return your smile, but his heart was still heavy with the weight of his unspoken fears.

As Derek and Emily continued to dance, their carefree energy a stark contrast to the tension building inside Spencer, he tried to push his jealousy aside. He wanted to trust in what you had, to remind himself that you loved him, not Sean.

But as he watched you lean against the bar, your attention completely on Sean as he worked, Spencer couldn’t help but feel that gnawing insecurity settle deeper in his chest.

Spencer’s eyes flickered toward you again as you moved across the club, checking on customers, making sure everything was running smoothly. Even in your all-black uniform, which was meant to look professional, you somehow made it look effortlessly chic. The fitted black blazer, the lace tights, and that sleek skirt—it all came together in a way that caught people's attention. And it wasn’t just the customers. Spencer saw how Sean’s gaze lingered a little too long every time you walked away, his eyes drifting down to the hem of your skirt, to the low neckline of your top.

It didn’t sit right with Spencer. He tried to tell himself that Sean wasn’t doing anything out of line—he was just looking, and maybe that was normal. You looked amazing, after all. But it gnawed at him, the way Sean’s eyes followed you, the way he smiled that easy, flirtatious smile at customers and coworkers alike. There was something too comfortable about the way Sean was acting, and Spencer couldn’t shake the irritation growing in his chest.

JJ was talking with Penelope next to him, her attention catching on Sean’s antics at the bar. She chuckled, leaning closer to Spencer, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Classic Sean,” she said, shaking her head as she watched him chat up a group of women by the bar. “Talking up every person within earshot.”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He didn’t find it funny. His fingers gripped his drink a little tighter, his jaw tensing as he tried to ignore the bubbling jealousy rising inside him. Sean wasn’t just talking to the women, he was clearly charming them, making them giggle and blush with every word.

Why did I even come tonight? Spencer thought to himself. Maybe staying home would have been the better option. Watching Sean work the bar—watching him charm the customers, and worse, watching him look at you—was a slow burn of frustration that Spencer didn’t know how to handle.

JJ nudged him lightly with her elbow. “You sure you’re alright, Spence?”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I promise, I’m fine,” he said quietly, though his thoughts were far from fine.

He didn’t want to seem insecure, didn’t want to show just how much Sean’s presence was bothering him. But it was hard to shake the image of Sean’s lingering glances, the flirtatious air about him, and the unsettling thought that maybe, just maybe, Sean was good for you in ways that Spencer wasn’t.

As you made your way over to Spencer and his friends, completely unaware of the internal storm that had been brewing inside your boyfriend all night, your smile brightened when you saw him. “Hi, baby,” you said sweetly, leaning down to give Spencer a quick peck on the lips.

But to your surprise, instead of the brief kiss you were expecting, Spencer’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you in closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips lingered on yours longer than usual, and the intensity of the gesture caught you off guard. You could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of your blazer, the possessiveness in his grip that was unlike him, especially in public.

When you finally pulled back, slightly dazed, your cheeks flushed as you whispered, “Damn, baby, what did I do to deserve that?” You playfully tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, grinning at him.

Spencer’s grip on you didn’t falter. In fact, he pulled you even closer, positioning you between his spread thighs from where he sat on the stool. His gaze was soft, but there was something in his eyes, something deeper. “You just look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling heat rise to your face. Spencer wasn’t usually so bold, so forward—especially not in front of other people. The sweet boy you loved was often shy, reserved, but this moment? This was different. It was as if he was trying to show you something, stake a quiet claim that you couldn’t quite understand.

You gave him another quick kiss, smiling softly against his lips before pulling back. “Well, thank you,” you said, feeling your own cheeks flush. You glanced at the group with a bright smile before excusing yourself to check on a few things at the bar. As you walked away, Spencer’s eyes followed you, his hand still resting on his thigh, feeling the lingering warmth where he’d held you close.

No sooner had you disappeared from view than Penelope was already nudging Spencer with a playful grin. “Spencer Reid!” she teased, her voice brimming with amusement as she lightly slapped his shoulder. “Save it for later, horn dog!”

Spencer felt his entire face turn scarlet, his heart pounding with embarrassment. He wasn’t trying to be… well, that! But the way Penelope’s eyes twinkled, the implication that she thought the two of you were all over each other in that way, made him squirm in his seat.

“Oh, come on, don’t blush, pretty boy,” Penelope giggled, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “You’ve been staring at her all night. We know what’s on your mind.”

JJ joined in, her laugh warm and teasing. “Yeah, Spence, is that why you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night? Can’t wait to get Y/N all to yourself later?”

Spencer wished he could disappear into thin air. He shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the heat rising to his ears. “Something like that,” he muttered, but the truth weighed heavier on him than he wanted to admit.

It wasn’t that Spencer wasn’t physically attracted to you—he adored every part of you—but the teasing only made him feel more inadequate, more aware of the gap between your experience and his. The others didn’t know. They had no idea that he hadn’t crossed the line into physical intimacy with you yet, despite your relationship being serious, despite you having already moved in together and said “I love you.” 

Most couples would have by now, he thought bitterly. And everyone else, Penelope and JJ included—they probably assumed you two were just like everyone else, that he was just another guy in a committed relationship. The teasing implied as much.

But Spencer knew the truth, and it gnawed at him—those dark fears he kept bottled up, that you would eventually find someone more experienced, more capable, someone who could offer you more than he ever could.

The soft click of the door echoed through the apartment as you stepped inside, already feeling the exhaustion from the long night creeping in. It was well past 3:00 a.m., the time when the world was quiet, and you expected the same from your apartment. Usually, Spencer would be fast asleep by now, his rhythmic breathing a comforting sound you’d find when you crawled into bed after closing the club. But tonight, as you set your bag down and kicked off your heels, you were surprised to see the warm glow of a lamp in the living room.

Spencer was sitting in his favorite green armchair, the soft pages of a book resting in his lap as he looked up, a sleepy but genuine grin spreading across his face. The sight of him there, waiting for you, made your heart swell. His hair was slightly disheveled, his long fingers trailing off the edge of the chair as he beckoned you closer with open arms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice warm and low, the kind of greeting that made you feel instantly at home.

You couldn’t resist the invitation, crossing the room in a few quick strides before slipping into his arms, settling into the chair with him. “Hi, my love,” you sighed, leaning into his warmth, your face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you inhaled his familiar scent. The combination of coffee and books was something uniquely Spencer, and it always made you feel safe.

“How was closing?” he asked, his voice gentle as his hand moved to stroke your back in slow, soothing circles.

You shivered lightly at his touch, enjoying the familiar rhythm of his fingers. “It was fine,” you murmured, your breath soft against his neck. “Sean is so much faster than Amber was. It makes things a lot easier.”

As soon as the words left your lips, you felt it. The way Spencer’s body tensed beneath you, the way his hand paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. You didn’t think much of it at first—maybe he was just tired—but then his touch changed. The gentle strokes on your back turned into something more deliberate, more intent as his hand slid lower.

“Hmmm,” Spencer hummed, his tone almost too casual. “I’m glad he’s been helpful.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but your thoughts trailed off as Spencer’s hand slid down further, past the small of your back, coming to rest on your thigh. His fingers pressed into the fabric there, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver through you. At first, you didn’t think much of it—Spencer’s touch was always affectionate, but this felt different.

“Yeah, he really has been—” Your sentence was cut short as Spencer’s hand traveled higher, his fingers brushing over your ass with a boldness that caught you off guard. His touch was unmistakable now, filled with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing from your typically gentle and reserved boyfriend.

You lifted your head, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for the meaning behind this sudden shift. His gaze was dark, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—jealousy and possessiveness that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asked, his voice a little rougher than usual, his hand still resting firmly on your body.

You blinked, your heart racing a little faster as you processed his question. “Yeah, baby, of course,” you whispered, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb. You gave him a reassuring smile, letting him know there was nothing to be uncertain about. “You can touch me anywhere.”

At your words, you felt something shift in Spencer. A quiet storm brewing behind his soft exterior, flared up. His hand flexed against you, and you could see it in his eyes now—he was staking his claim, reminding himself, and maybe even you, that he was the one who had the right to be close to you like this.

He was the one allowed to touch you, to hold you, to love you. Not Sean, not anyone else. Only him.

Without another word, Spencer pulled you closer, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to make sure you understood. You weren’t sure where this sudden intensity came from, but it made your heart race in a different way. This wasn’t the soft, shy Spencer you were used to. This was something deeper, something more primal. And for a moment, you were both wrapped up in it, the quiet room charged with unspoken tension.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, slow and tender, hoping to ease whatever storm was brewing inside him. “Spence,” you whispered against his lips, “I’m yours.”

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest as the moment stretched between you. He had always felt a deep sense of attraction for you, but acting on it had been something he’d carefully avoided—out of nervousness, out of insecurity. But tonight there was something about the way you had reassured him, the way you said he could touch you, that ignited a new kind of confidence in him. 

He leaned down, closing the space between you, and kissed you with a passion that surprised even him. It was much like the kiss you’d shared earlier at the club, only this time there was an intensity behind it—a hunger that had been quietly building for a long time. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved with yours, no longer tentative, but sure, as though he had made a silent decision within himself.

You were taken aback for only a brief moment, but not at all upset by the new direction your night was taking. If anything, you were thrilled to see this side of him, this bolder, more assertive Spencer. You brought both hands up to cradle his face, your thumbs gently stroking his jawline as you kissed him back, pouring all your affection into the moment. His hands, meanwhile, began to roam your body, exploring what little he could in this current position, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips, your thighs. There was an eagerness in his touch, a yearning that you could feel pulsing from him.

You could sense that he wanted more, that he wasn’t sure how to ask for it, but you knew. You knew exactly what he needed. Without a word, you sat up from where you were nestled in his lap, moving slowly so you could shift your position. You swung one leg over him, straddling his lap and settling back down, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Then, with a teasing smile, you took his hands in yours, guiding them back to where he seemed to want them the most—onto your ass. 

“Better?” you asked, your smirk playful, though your heart was racing just as fast as his.

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, the weight of your body on his lap combined with the newfound freedom in his touch making him dizzy with need. His fingers instinctively squeezed the flesh beneath them, reveling in the feeling of holding you like this, of having you so close.

“Much,” he managed to say, his voice weak with desire, his eyes wide as he looked up at you. He leaned forward again, capturing your lips in another kiss, more urgent this time. His hands tightened around you, holding you as if afraid you might slip away. You could feel the tension in his body as he leaned into the kiss, the way he was holding back so much yet giving in more than he ever had before.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the heat between you building as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, then found their way back to your ass, squeezing you with newfound confidence. He wasn’t just nervous Spencer anymore—he was Spencer who wanted you, and that thought made you smile against his lips.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to catch your breath and look into his eyes. His gaze was filled with a mix of awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening, yet he was determined to take the leap.

“I love this side of you,” you whispered, your fingers brushing through his hair as you leaned your forehead against his. “But we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

As you whispered those reassuring words, you saw the subtle flicker of doubt flash across Spencer’s face. His confidence, which had been so bold a moment ago, seemed to waver. You could practically see the question forming in his mind—Did you not want this? Was he misreading the situation? 

You were quick to close the gap between his fear and your truth. “I want to do everything with you, baby,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly, your lips brushing against his with tender intent. Then, in a playful move, you gently bit down on his bottom lip, just enough to make him whine, a small, needy sound escaping his throat that sent a thrill through you. “I just don’t want to rush anything,” you continued, your voice soothing but firm. “We have all the time in the world.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, making sure your next words landed where they needed to. “I am not going anywhere, okay? You don’t have to worry about that.”

Spencer’s chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took, his gaze softening as your words sank in. He nodded, his hand still resting possessively on your waist. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath but carrying the full weight of his emotions.

You smiled at him, a loving, genuine smile that only deepened his feelings. “I love you more,” you whispered back before leaning down to kiss him again.

In that moment, the kiss was everything. Soft, slow, reassuring, full of the love and trust that you’d both built together. But then, as you shifted in his lap, your body moved instinctively—rolling your hips ever so slightly. You hadn’t meant to, but the unmistakable hardness beneath you pressed against your core, causing a delicious friction that neither of you expected.

Spencer whimpered into your mouth, the sound raw and unrestrained, his hips jerking upward involuntarily in response to the sudden, new form of pleasure. The sensation seemed to spark something deep inside him, a rush of need that had been bubbling under the surface for so long. You felt his fingers tighten on your waist, his breath hitching as he chased the friction, his body moving beneath you as if on autopilot.

The way Spencer reacted to the brief touch, the soft sounds of desperation coming from him, sent a thrill through your own body. You could feel the heat rising between you both, the chemistry shifting from sweet to something more electric. Your lips hovered just above his, your breath mingling with his as you caught the look in his eyes—dark, yearning, and yet still so full of love.

You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring every second as your hands cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Spence…” you whispered, his name a quiet plea on your lips, “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Mhm,” he whined softly, eyes closed as he leaned into the feeling, chasing the sensation your touch brought him. His body responded instinctively, moving with you, completely lost in the moment.

You were just about to suggest something more, thinking about shedding some of the clothing between you, when suddenly, Spencer stilled beneath you. His entire body tensed, and before you could ask what was wrong, he let out a long, unexpected moan. You felt it—an undeniable wetness seeping through your tights. 

Spencer’s eyes shot open in mortification, his face flushing crimson as he realized what had just happened. Panic set in immediately, and without a word, he scrambled out from under you, pushing you off gently but urgently as he bolted toward the bathroom. 

You barely had time to process what had happened before he disappeared behind the door. The sound of it closing echoed through the quiet apartment, leaving you sitting there, still feeling the heat of the moment but now overtaken by concern. You stood up, adjusting yourself and taking a deep breath, your mind quickly shifting from your own arousal to Spencer’s sudden distress.

You followed him to the bathroom, heart heavy as you heard him breathing heavily on the other side of the door. Gently, you knocked, your voice soft and filled with care. “Spencer? Honey, are you okay?”

A sniffle came from the other side, a sound that broke your heart. “No,” he whimpered, his voice small, ashamed.

You leaned your forehead against the door, trying to offer him comfort without pushing too hard. “Can I come in?” you asked, your tone gentle and filled with reassurance.

“No,” he answered again, his voice cracking, clearly embarrassed.

You sighed softly, wanting nothing more than to hold him, to make sure he knew there was nothing to be ashamed of. “Why not, baby?” you asked, your voice soft but persistent.

Spencer hesitated, his breath shaky as he tried to find the words. “Because... because I... I... ruined it,” he stammered, his voice thick with tears.

Your heart broke at his words. Ruined it? There was nothing to ruin. You leaned against the door more firmly, wanting him to hear the sincerity in your voice. “Spencer,” you said softly, “you didn’t ruin anything, my love. Please let me in. We can talk about it, okay?”

He sniffled again, his breathing still shaky. You could hear him shifting on the other side, his back still pressed against the door. “I... I couldn’t control it. I didn’t mean to... it’s so embarrassing,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you reassured him, feeling your own heart ache for him. “It’s normal. It happens. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.”

There was a pause, and you could hear him take a deep breath, as if he was trying to gather himself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

Slowly, you opened the door and found Spencer standing there, his eyes red-rimmed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding yours out of sheer mortification. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

He hesitated at first, still feeling the weight of his embarrassment, but eventually, his arms came around you, holding on tightly as if you were his lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your shoulder, his voice muffled and thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Your eyes were filled with nothing but love and understanding. “Spencer, you don’t have to be sorry,” you said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He blinked at you, clearly still struggling to accept that. “But... it was... I didn’t even—”

“Shh,” you soothed him, gently placing a finger against his lips, your voice soft but reassuring. “How about we focus on how that felt, yeah?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, tilting his head at you, still unsure how to navigate this moment. His embarrassment was still fresh, but your calmness helped ease the tension that had built up inside him.

“Did it feel good, baby?” you asked, your tone gentle and coaxing. “Like something you’d want to try again?”

There was a moment of hesitation before the realization hit Spencer—what you were doing. You weren’t focusing on his embarrassment, his mistake. You were helping him see past it, guiding him back to what mattered: the feeling you had shared, the intimacy of the moment. His heart swelled with gratitude, a soft warmth spreading through his chest.

“Yes,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and sincerity. “It did.”

You smiled up at him, and that smile was all it took to melt the remaining tension in his body. Leaning in, you kissed him, a slow and tender kiss filled with the reassurance that everything was okay, that he was okay. “I liked it too,” you whispered against his lips. “Maybe we can do that again soon?”

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small smile, more confident this time. “I would like that,” he admitted, his voice steady, a little more sure of himself.

Your heart swarmed with affection as you pulled him close, pressing your cheek against his as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his body relaxing into yours. You gently rubbed his back, feeling the tension ease from his muscles as he sighed against your skin.

“Do you want to shower, Spence?” you asked softly, your hand trailing soothing patterns up and down his back.

Spencer nuzzled closer to you, his voice a low mumble into your skin. “Together?”

You smiled, kissing the top of his head. “We can,” you hummed, “but if that’s too much right now, I don’t mind leaving. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Spencer shook his head rapidly, pulling you closer. “Don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothed, your fingers still brushing lightly across his back. “I won’t leave. We can shower together.”

Spencer sighed happily, his arms tightening around you as if to confirm that you were staying, that you weren’t going anywhere. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck before mumbling, “Just… don’t look at my penis, please?”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up, but you quickly reassured him, kissing his cheek as you whispered, “Of course, my love. My eyes will stay on your face.”

With that promise, Spencer relaxed further into you, his trust in you deepening with every passing second. The shame and embarrassment from earlier slowly dissolved, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you accepted him fully, without judgment. You held him for a moment longer, your arms wrapped securely around him.

The shower was filled with steam and laughter, the sound of water splashing mixing with your playful giggles and Spencer’s rare, carefree chuckles. It was the first time you had shared the shower, a new experience that was turning out to be much more fun than either of you had expected. Usually, one of you would sit outside on the toilet, talking through the curtain while the other showered. But now, the barrier was gone, and the playful side of both of you was in full swing.

You couldn’t resist puffing your cheeks full of water and spitting it in Spencer’s direction, making him laugh out loud as droplets hit his chest. “Hey!” he protested, though his grin betrayed him as he retaliated with a splash of his own, his hands sending a wave of water your way.

You laughed, dodging the water as best as you could, enjoying this lighthearted, silly moment between you two. It was refreshing to see Spencer like this, so relaxed, his usual careful demeanor replaced with playful mischief.

But there was something else too. Spencer tried his hardest to keep his eyes on your face—his eyes darting up quickly whenever they drifted a little lower. You couldn’t help but giggle each time he looked away, a blush creeping up his neck, his face flushed for reasons beyond just the heat of the shower.

After the fourth or fifth time of catching him sneaking a glance only to immediately avert his eyes, you decided to call him out on it. “Spencer,” you giggled, crossing your arms over your chest playfully. “I am your girlfriend, you know?”

Spencer looked back at you, his brow furrowing in that adorable, confused way he did when he was trying to figure something out. “I know that, why are you asking?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, genuinely perplexed.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his expression, shaking your head in amusement. “Because, you big dork,” you cackled, “you’re allowed to look at my boobs! You can even touch them if you want!”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his blush deepening as he processed your words. “I—well, I just didn’t want to... I mean...” He stammered, looking flustered but also a little curious, his gaze flickering down before darting back up to your eyes. “I didn’t want to seem disrespectful.”

You burst out laughing, stepping closer to him, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Spence,” you said between your giggles, “you could never be disrespectful. Trust me.”

He blinked, still looking a little unsure but also charmed by your playfulness. “I... I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, moving his hands from your waist to your chest with a smirk. “Here, I’ll even help you.”

Spencer’s face turned crimson as he felt the softness beneath his hands, his fingers lightly tracing over your skin as if he were still processing what was happening. His touch was tentative, delicate, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his nose. “See? Not so scary, right?”

He swallowed, finally letting himself relax a little, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “Not scary,” he echoed softly, his eyes filled with a mix of wonder and affection. Then, as if realizing the silliness of it all, he let out a small laugh, shaking his head at himself.

You both stood there in the warmth of the shower, your bodies close, the steam curling around you as Spencer finally allowed himself to look, to touch, to enjoy this new level of intimacy with you. It was another step in your relationship, one that made both of you feel more connected, more comfortable with each other.

But as always, you couldn���t resist keeping the moment light. With a mischievous grin, you puffed your cheeks full of water again and spat it playfully in Spencer’s direction, causing him to sputter in surprise and laugh as he wiped his face.

“Hey!” he laughed, shaking his head as water dripped from his hair. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, backing up against the wall of the shower with a grin. “What are you gonna do about it, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, the playful dynamic back in full swing, earlier embarrassment long forgotten. It was just the two of you now, laughing, teasing, and enjoying each other in the most carefree way. And that, in the end, was what made this moment perfect.

—

As the weeks rolled on, Spencer found himself spending more and more time at your nightclub. It had become a routine for him during his free weekends, a way to be closer to you. On the busier nights, he would sit at the bar, watching you work, admiring the way you effortlessly ran the place. And on weeknights, when you invited the bartenders in during closed hours to practice making new drinks, Spencer would linger in the background, quietly observing.

But each time he visited, something gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the crowd, the music, or the dim lighting of the club—it was Sean. At first, Spencer tried to brush it off. He chalked it up to Sean’s naturally charming personality, how bartenders often carried themselves with confidence, flirting with customers as part of the job. But now, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like there was something more.

Sean’s eyes seemed to linger on you longer than they should, or at least that’s how it appeared to Spencer. Over the past few weeks, with Spencer spending more time at the club, he became convinced that Sean had started flirting with you. His words seemed just a bit too smooth, his smiles lingered a little too long. Spencer couldn’t ignore the casual way Sean would lean in when he spoke to you or how he seemed overly attentive whenever you checked in at the bar.

What Spencer didn’t know, however, was that Sean had recently confided in you about his lack of attraction to women. While he wasn’t out of the closet yet, he wanted to make sure his playful, flirtatious behavior was never misunderstood. It was all in good fun, a way to keep the atmosphere light and easy at work, and he trusted you enough to share his truth, knowing it wouldn’t affect your friendship or professional relationship.

One night, after a long day, you and Spencer were curled up on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as the two of you settled into your usual post-work relaxation. You were absentmindedly playing with Spencer’s hand while a TV show played in the background, the glow of the screen filling the cozy living room. But Spencer’s mind wasn’t on the show. His thoughts were elsewhere—back at the club, and back on Sean.

“Hey…” Spencer began, his voice hesitant as his fingers traced small circles on your knee.

You looked over at him, smiling softly. “Yeah, babe?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to sound paranoid, but the thought had been eating away at him for days now. “I think… I think Sean’s been flirting with you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his statement. “What? Sean?” The idea made you laugh—not to be dismissive of Spencer’s feelings, but the thought of Sean flirting with you, his boss, was almost comical. “Spence, no way.”

He frowned slightly, feeling a bit vulnerable after putting it out there. “I’m serious. He looks at you… and I’ve heard him make little comments. I don’t know, it just feels like he’s always trying to get your attention in a certain way.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, though your tone was softer this time, recognizing the seriousness in his voice. “Baby, bartenders flirt. It’s literally part of the job. They flirt with everyone—it doesn’t mean anything.”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly. He knew you didn’t mean to dismiss his concern, but it stung a little. “Yeah, I know, but… it’s different with him. I see the way he acts around you. It’s not the same as with other people.”

You shifted, sitting up a bit to face him, brushing a hand through his hair. “Spencer, I promise you, Sean’s just doing his job. If he’s flirting, he’s doing it with every customer that walks through the door.” You smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss him softly. “And even if he was flirting with me, it wouldn’t matter. You’re the only one I have eyes for.”

Your words were meant to reassure him, but Spencer still felt that unease. He didn’t doubt your loyalty or love for him, but there was something about Sean that bothered him. He could sense it—the subtle charm, the lingering glances that made his stomach twist with jealousy. But he didn’t want to seem overly paranoid or insecure, especially not after you had laughed off the idea. So, instead of pushing it further, Spencer just nodded, giving you a weak smile in return.

“Yeah… you’re probably right,” he murmured, though the knot in his chest hadn’t untangled.

You kissed him again, resting your head on his shoulder. “Of course I’m right. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

But even as you both settled back into your cozy position, Spencer couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. He didn’t want to keep bringing it up, didn’t want to seem annoyingly jealous or insecure, so he kept it bottled up after that night, silently watching from the sidelines each time he visited the club. But each time Sean’s eyes lingered too long on you, or every time Spencer caught the slight inflection in Sean’s voice when he spoke to you, the feeling festered inside him, unresolved.

—

Spencer hadn't realized just how much his pent-up frustration was affecting him—at least, not until the team started to notice. What began as subtle shifts in his demeanor during interrogations had gradually turned into something much more obvious. Spencer had always been the calm, logical one. The genius with a kind heart, who often sought to understand unsubs and their motivations. But recently, something had changed.

During takedowns, Spencer's grip on suspects was firmer, his actions more aggressive than they needed to be. When it came to interviews and interrogations, he was no longer the patient profiler with a steady voice. His words were sharp, cold, and sometimes downright cutting. He'd lean in too close, his eyes dark with intensity, and his voice would drop to a low, threatening tone that made even the most hardened criminals flinch. He became a version of himself that no one on the team recognized.

It all came to a head when they brought in a person of interest—someone who wasn’t even officially connected to the crime yet, just a potential witness. The woman had been nervous enough as it was, but the moment Spencer stepped into the interrogation room, his usual warmth and understanding were gone. Instead, he stared her down, his eyes hard, his tone biting as he drilled her with questions. The more she stammered, the harsher he became, until finally, the woman broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Hotch had seen enough. The moment Spencer walked out of the interrogation room, his jaw tight and his hands clenched at his sides, Hotch made the decision to pull him aside.

“Reid, conference room. Now.”

Spencer barely glanced up, his frustration still evident, but he followed Hotch without a word. The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances as they watched him disappear into the room, the door closing firmly behind them.

Hotch turned to face Spencer, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. "What the hell is going on with you, Reid?" His voice was stern but not unkind, giving Spencer the chance to explain himself.

Spencer, still bristling with residual anger, shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what Hotch meant, but he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

“You made a person of interest cry, Spencer,” Hotch said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That woman was barely connected to the case, and you broke her down like she was the unsub. This isn’t like you.”

Spencer crossed his arms, suddenly feeling defensive. “She wasn’t cooperating. I was just trying to get the truth out of her.”

“There are ways to get the truth out of people that don’t involve scaring them,” Hotch countered. “You’ve always known that. But this—this isn’t the Reid we all know. What’s going on?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, he considered brushing it off, making some excuse about the stress of the job, but he knew Hotch wouldn’t buy it. The truth of it was, Spencer didn’t even fully understand what had been driving him lately. All he knew was that something inside him had shifted, a growing aggression that he couldn’t quite shake.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Spencer muttered, though he knew how weak the excuse sounded.

“Reid, you and I both know that’s not true,” Hotch said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve been on edge for weeks. I’ve noticed it, and so has the rest of the team. Whatever’s going on with you, you need to talk about it. Before it gets worse.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. His mind raced, filled with thoughts of the one thing that had been eating away at him for weeks: Sean and the club. The jealousy, the fear, the constant feeling that he wasn’t enough. He had tried to keep it bottled up, had tried to pretend that everything was fine, but clearly, it wasn’t. And now, it was affecting his work—affecting who he was.

“I…” Spencer’s voice faltered, his throat tightening as he realized how ridiculous it might sound to Hotch. But there was no point in hiding it anymore. “It’s personal.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further, his gaze steady as he waited for Spencer to continue. The silence stretched between them, a gentle but firm reminder that Hotch was giving Spencer space to be honest.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the conversation hanging over him. He knew what Hotch was expecting, what he should say, but the truth was harder to face than he anticipated.

“I’ll talk to someone,” Spencer finally said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in a tired gesture. His voice was laced with reluctance, but there was a genuine attempt to reassure his boss. “I promise.”

Hotch studied him for a moment longer, the skepticism clear in his eyes, though he didn’t vocalize it. He knew Spencer well enough to recognize when he was pushing something down, burying it beneath layers of self-control and avoidance. And as much as Hotch wanted to push further, he also knew that Spencer was an adult—one who had to take ownership of his own emotions.

“Alright,” Hotch finally said, his tone even. “I’m trusting you to handle this, Spencer. Don’t let it get worse.”

Spencer nodded, though a small part of him wasn’t sure if he’d follow through. But the weight of Hotch’s gaze made it clear that this conversation wouldn’t be forgotten easily.

Hotch gave a final nod, his demeanor softening just slightly as he spoke. “Take care of yourself, Reid.”

Spencer forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will,” he said, though the truth of the promise felt heavy.

With that, the conversation ended, and Spencer made his way out of Hotch’s office, feeling the quiet pressure of everything that had built up inside him over the past few weeks. He knew he had to do something about it—he had to talk to you, or someone, before this spiral led him further down a path he didn’t want to follow.

For now, though, he’d keep the promise to himself, hoping that he’d find the strength to follow through.

—

Spencer had barely set foot through the door before you were there to greet him, your usual warmth and love surrounding him as you kissed him softly, welcoming him home. But instead of the usual sense of relief he felt in your embrace, something inside him snapped. The frustration from the case, from everything that had been building inside him, surged to the surface.

Without thinking, Spencer grabbed your face, pulling you into a deep, urgent kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you were used to from him—it was rough, almost desperate. He devoured your mouth like he was trying to lose himself in you, his hands gripping you tighter than usual. You assumed it was just the result of a tough case, and maybe he just missed you. But something about the intensity of it was off.

As Spencer’s hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, right there in the walkway by the front door, you tried to pull back slightly to ask him if everything was okay. But he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care—because he kept tugging, his fingers working to get your shirt over your head.

You let him pull it off, still unsure of what was going on but trusting that Spencer wouldn’t act like this without reason. Maybe he just needed you, needed to feel close to you. But when he backed you towards the bedroom with that same roughness, something in the pit of your stomach twisted with unease.

Then, when he pushed you onto the bed—aggressively, without the usual care he always showed—alarm bells started ringing in your head.

"Spencer!" you called out, your voice louder than intended, hoping it would snap him out of whatever was happening.

But Spencer didn’t stop. If he noticed your tone, he either misread it or ignored it, because he crawled over you, his hands fumbling with your pants now, too focused on what he was doing to realize you were uncomfortable.

Panic set in then. This wasn’t your Spencer. He had never acted like this before. You pushed at his hands, your heart racing as you called out again, louder this time.

“Spencer, stop!” you shouted, finally shoving his hands away from your waist.

Spencer froze, his body going rigid above you as your words seemed to cut through the fog of whatever had taken over him. His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the mix of confusion and shame washing over his face as he registered what you had said.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked, your voice breathless but firm, your hands still on his chest to keep some distance between you.

For a moment, Spencer didn’t say anything. He looked away, the sting of rejection clear in the way his shoulders slumped and his hands fell limply to his sides. “Nothing,” he muttered, his voice quiet and defensive.

You sat up, pulling your shirt back on, your concern growing with every second that passed. “It’s obviously something, Spence. You’ve never acted like this before.”

Spencer kept his eyes down, not meeting your gaze. “I just… I just missed you,” he mumbled, though you could tell there was more to it than that. The way he was avoiding your eyes, the tension in his body—it all told you that this wasn’t just about missing you.

You reached for his hand, gently pulling him to sit down on the bed beside you. “I know you missed me,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone calm and reassuring. “But this isn’t like you. Please, talk to me.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might stay silent. But then, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if he was trying to push away whatever emotions were swirling inside him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted quietly, his voice thick with frustration. “I’ve just… I’ve been feeling so off lately. Angry. Insecure. And I keep telling myself not to, but… I can’t stop thinking about Sean, and how he looks at you, and how much better he is at everything, and—” He stopped abruptly, his hands clenching into fists in his lap as he tried to control the storm of emotions building inside him.

You blinked, finally starting to piece together the reason behind his behavior. “Spence, this is about Sean?”

Spencer’s shoulders sagged, his silence confirming your suspicions. He finally looked up at you, and in his eyes, you saw all the fear, jealousy, and insecurity he had been trying to hide for weeks.

“I know it’s stupid,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I know you love me, and I know he’s just a bartender at your club, but… I can’t stop feeling like I’m not enough. Like you’ll realize you could have someone… better.”

Your heart broke at his words. You cupped his face gently, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Spencer,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “You are more than enough. I love you. There is no one better for me. Sean is just a coworker. You’re the man I want, please believe me.”

Spencer sat back on his heels, looking down at his hands, feeling the weight of his own frustration and shame. He had never wanted to make you uncomfortable, never wanted to act like this, but the jealousy that had been building inside him finally broke through. Now, here he was, on the edge of ruining something so precious to him.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we talked about it, and I know you don’t see Sean that way. It’s just… it’s so hard, watching him flirt with you every day. And you don’t stop him. It feels like… like I’m not enough.”

You sat up, still catching your breath from the intensity of the moment, but your heart ached hearing his words. You hadn’t realized how deep his insecurities ran. The playful flirting from Sean, which you had brushed off as part of the job, had been festering inside Spencer for weeks, and you hadn’t seen it.

“Spencer, baby,” you started, your voice gentle but firm as you reached for his hand. “You are enough. More than enough. I don’t let him flirt with me because I want him to, or because I’m interested. It’s his job to be friendly, charming even, but that’s all it is. I don’t see Sean the way I see you. I only have eyes for you.”

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “But what if one day… what if one day you change your mind?” he asked softly, the fear evident in his voice. “What if one day, you find someone who’s more… experienced, more everything?”

You cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “That’s not going to happen, Spencer,” you said firmly. “I love you. Not because of experience, or because of anything physical, but because of who you are. You’re kind, brilliant, thoughtful, and you make me happier than I’ve ever been. No one else even comes close.”

Spencer swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to… to act like that. I just—I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You stroked his cheek, offering him a small, understanding smile. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. “But we need to talk about these things, okay? If you’re feeling like this, I want to know. I don’t want you to keep it bottled up until it explodes like this.”

Spencer nodded, his head dipping down as he let out a shaky breath. “I know. I just… I didn’t want to seem weak.”

“You’re not weak, Spencer,” you said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. “Being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

He let out a long sigh, his body finally relaxing as the tension drained out of him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as if he were afraid to let go.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your skin.

“I love you too, Spencer,” you whispered back, holding him just as tightly. "Always."

Later that evening, after Spencer had unpacked his things and taken a long, soothing bath, the two of you settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a movie playing softly in the background. The warm, familiar glow of your living room felt comforting, but you couldn’t help but notice how hesitant Spencer was. He sat beside you, his body tense, his hands resting awkwardly in his lap, as though he was afraid to touch you. 

It broke your heart to see him like this, to see him so uncertain. You knew he still felt guilty about what had happened earlier, worried that he had somehow ruined everything.

“Honey,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the quiet. “You can still hold me, you know… or if you’d rather, do you want me to hold you?”

Spencer looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and hesitation. But then, slowly, he nodded, his expression softening as he shifted on the couch. He leaned over, laying his head gently in your lap, and you couldn’t help but smile at how vulnerable and sweet he looked in that moment.

As soon as his head was settled, you instinctively began playing with his hair, your fingers threading through the soft strands as you stroked him gently. You felt him relax under your touch, his body finally easing into the comfort of your presence.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice soothing as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Earlier, I was worried because we haven’t gone that far before. That doesn’t mean I never want you to touch me again. Okay? I just want us to be on the same page, to make sure we’re both ready.”

He nodded again, his face nestled against your thigh as he let out a soft sigh. “I get it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to push you or anything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything I was feeling.”

You leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head. “I know, baby. And we’ll figure it out together, at our own pace. There’s no rush.”

Spencer shifted slightly, looking up at you with soft, grateful eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “For being so understanding.”

You smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss his forehead once more. “I’ll always understand, Spence. You never have to be afraid of that.”

As you continued to play with his hair, Spencer closed his eyes, letting the comfort of the moment wash over him. You could feel the tension in his body melt away, and soon enough, he was relaxed and peaceful, knowing that everything between you two was going to be okay.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Spencer felt like he could truly breathe again.

—

You had taken a Friday night off to be with Spencer, trusting your number two to keep things running smoothly. Spencer had taken you to dinner, wined and dined you before bringing you home and kissing you sweetly. Now the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around you both. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, tender and slow, taking your time with each other. Spencer’s hands had wandered, tentative at first, but growing more confident as the moments passed. You had already reassured him a dozen times over that you were ready, that this was something you wanted to share with him.

And now, the moment was here. You laid in front of him, completely bare, your skin bathed in the soft light. Spencer’s eyes roamed over your body, wide and filled with awe. His breath hitched in his throat, his hands shaking slightly as they reached out to touch you. He was gentle, reverent, as though he were afraid of hurting you by merely looking.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his fingertips ghosted over your skin. He took his time, memorizing every curve, every line, as if he wanted to commit every inch of you to memory.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection as you leaned down to kiss him. “Thank you, baby.”

Spencer swallowed hard, still staring in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re perfect.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with warmth. "I’m not perfect, Spence."

He looked at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "You are to me," he said, his voice full of honesty and affection.

With only mild hesitation, Spencer leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone, his lips trailing slowly down to your breasts. He explored every inch of you with care, his lips brushing your skin tenderly. You couldn't help but let out soft whines of pleasure, and Spencer, trying to learn what you like, paid extra attention when your sounds grew louder, lingering in the spots that made your breath hitch.

As your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, gripping softly, Spencer's teeth accidentally grazed your nipple when his lips suctioned to your breast. The unexpected sensation caused you to arch your back and moan loudly, the sound filling the quiet room.

Spencer immediately pulled back, his face filled with concern, eyes wide in alarm. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice was thick with worry, afraid he had crossed a line.

You shook your head quickly, reassuring him as your hands stroked his hair gently. "No, no, baby, I liked it," you whispered, your breath still shaky from the pleasure. "It's okay. It felt good."

Relief washed over Spencer’s face, his lips curling into a small, nervous smile as he realized he hadn’t hurt you. He leaned back in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and this time, he allowed himself to explore you with even more confidence, knowing that you were both in this together.

Spencer froze for a moment, his eyes wide with concern, his breath shaky as he pulled back just enough to search your face. His brow furrowed, worry evident in every inch of his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. His hands hovered over your body, not daring to touch you until he knew for certain that you were alright. 

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection at just how much he cared. Reaching up, you gently brushed a hand through his hair, guiding him back toward you. “I’m sure, Spence. I liked it, I promise,” you whispered reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me. In fact, I liked it a lot.”

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, still looking for any signs of discomfort, but all he found was warmth and trust. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, the tension in his body easing as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, though his face softened with a hint of relief. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, pulling him closer, your hands threading through his hair again, this time more gently. “You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured against his lips. “I love everything you do, Spencer. Just… trust me, okay? Trust that I’ll tell you if something is wrong.”

He nodded, still looking a little unsure but reassured by the sincerity in your voice. His eyes softened as he leaned back down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before trailing them once more along your collarbone, and then lower, toward your chest. This time, there was a careful gentleness in his touch, though the intensity hadn’t faded.

You arched your back again, your body responding to his kisses, to the way his lips brushed against your skin with both tenderness and a growing confidence. As he felt you grip his hair again, Spencer’s lips paused just for a moment, as if waiting for any sign that you weren’t comfortable. But when your soft moans filled the room, he took that as all the permission he needed to continue.

His lips pressed harder, his hands exploring your body with more intent, and this time, when his teeth grazed your skin, he did it purposefully, testing the boundaries of your pleasure.

And when you moaned again, louder this time, Spencer felt a surge of something—both pride and desire—swell inside him. He kissed you again, his lips and teeth finding the spots that made your breath hitch, his hands moving with a confidence that he hadn’t known he possessed until now.

In that moment, you both shared something deeper, a connection that wasn’t just about trust but about exploring each other fully, knowing that in this space, in this moment, there was nothing but love, vulnerability, and acceptance.

—

The bookstore was a haven of calm, a peaceful retreat from the world. The scent of old paper, leather-bound books, and the soft rustle of pages being turned created an atmosphere of quiet serenity. It was the perfect place for you and Spencer to spend the afternoon. 

From the moment you walked in, hand in hand, you could see how at home Spencer felt here. His eyes lit up with excitement as he scanned the shelves, fingers trailing over spines as if each book held a personal story he was waiting to uncover. You loved watching him like this—so in his element, so absorbed in his passion for knowledge and discovery.

But, of course, the playful side of you couldn’t resist adding a bit of mischief to the day. As Spencer dove headfirst into the non-fiction section, his attention already lost in the spines of ancient history volumes, you snuck off into a different aisle, peeking around the corner like a spy on a secret mission. You had been teasing him since you arrived—jumping out at him from behind shelves, sneaking little pokes and playful scares.

You watched from your hiding spot, stifling a giggle as Spencer carefully examined a thick book, oblivious to your plan. His brow furrowed in concentration, a small smile playing on his lips as he skimmed the pages. You took the opportunity to tiptoe closer, hiding behind a row of shelves, waiting for the perfect moment.

Finally, when Spencer rounded the corner, deep in thought about which book to buy next, you jumped out, arms raised in mock menace. “Gotcha!” you shouted with glee.

Spencer yelped, his eyes going wide in surprise as he stumbled back a step. For a split second, his brain went into overdrive, trying to process the sudden "threat." But then, his startled expression melted into laughter. “You’re ridiculous!” he chuckled, shaking his head at you, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your giggles filling the quiet space between the rows of books. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug, your face pressing against his chest as you felt his warmth seep into you. 

“Maybe,” you said with a grin, looking up at him, “but you love it.”

Spencer’s smile softened, his arms coming around you as he held you close. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “I do,” he murmured, his voice gentle, full of affection. “I really do.”

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other, the world fading away as the quiet of the bookstore enveloped you. Spencer's hand moved up to your back, rubbing slow circles as you soaked in the comfort of the moment. There was something magical about being here together, surrounded by the books he loved and the peaceful intimacy of just being with each other.

After a few moments, you pulled back slightly, your playful grin returning. “Alright, Dr. Reid,” you teased, “what book are we getting?”

Spencer's eyes lit up again, and he immediately turned his attention back to the stack of books he had been eyeing. "Well," he began, his voice taking on that enthusiastic tone you loved so much, "I’ve been looking at this one on the history of cryptography. It has some fascinating insights into early codebreaking techniques used in ancient times, and—" He caught himself, his eyes flickering to yours as he smiled sheepishly. “But I’m not sure you want to hear me ramble about that.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him and placing your hand on his arm. “I always want to hear you ramble, Spence,” you said sincerely. “Tell me all about it.”

His eyes softened, and for the next few minutes, he explained the intricacies of the book, his voice animated and full of passion. You listened intently, loving every second of seeing him so in his element.

After Spencer finished his enthusiastic information dump, the way his eyes lit up while talking about cryptography and ancient codebreaking made your heart swell. You couldn't resist the urge any longer. Without saying a word, you leaned in and kissed him, your lips pressing softly against his, filled with all the affection you felt in that moment.

Spencer blinked in surprise, a grin slowly spreading across his face as you pulled back. “What was that for?” he asked, his tone playful, though his cheeks flushed pink from the unexpected kiss.

You shook your head, smiling warmly as you looked into his eyes. “I just love you so much,” you said softly, feeling your chest fill with warmth at how easy it was to be with him, how completely in love with him you were in moments like this.

His grin softened into something more tender, and his hand found yours on the table, squeezing it gently. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and that same vulnerability that always made your heart flutter.

—

The next time you found yourselves in an intimate position, the energy was different. The tables had turned, and now it was Spencer’s turn to be vulnerable, to bare himself completely to you. As you stood together in the hallway, you could feel the shift in the air, the weight of the moment pressing softly between you two. 

“Spence, are you sure?” you asked gently, guiding him by the hands into the bedroom, your fingers brushing lightly over his knuckles. “There’s no rush, baby. We can take our time.”

Spencer paused, meeting your gaze with a nervous but determined smile. His heart was pounding, but he trusted you—more than anything. “Yeah,” he said, giving you a small nod. His voice trembled slightly with nerves, but his eyes were soft with affection. “You showed me yours, I’ll show you mine, right?” He laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly, trying to lighten the tension.

You smiled back, your heart swelling with love for him. “Exactly,” you said softly. “But only if you’re ready.”

He nodded again, more confidently this time. “I’m ready.”

Once inside the bedroom, the atmosphere felt warmer, more intimate. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space, and as you stood in front of Spencer, you gently reached for the buttons on his shirt. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly as you carefully unbuttoned the fabric, your fingers brushing over his skin as you went. 

With each button undone, you let your hands glide over his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. You couldn’t resist the urge to lightly trace the curve of his sides, your touch featherlight as you tickled him just enough to make him giggle.

Spencer’s reaction was instant—his eyes squeezed shut as a small, surprised laugh escaped him, his hands quickly grabbing yours to still them. “Behave,” he playfully warned, his face flushed but full of affection.

You laughed softly, loving the way his guard was down, how he trusted you so completely in this moment. “Sorry,” you teased, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his collarbone, your lips brushing against the smooth skin. “I couldn’t resist.”

He let out a soft hum, his fingers still holding yours but more gently now, as if to anchor himself. He was nervous, you could tell, but he was also present, allowing himself to be open with you in a way that made your heart swell.

As you helped him slip off his shirt completely, you took a step back, your eyes scanning his body with nothing but admiration. Spencer’s vulnerability in this moment only made you love him more. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, but he was doing this for you, for both of you, and that meant the world.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, Spence. I love all of you.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, the tension in his body easing slightly as your words settled over him. He leaned into your touch, his hands resting gently on your waist as he let out a small, relieved breath. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of gratitude and affection. “And I love you, too.”

Spencer took a deep breath as you carefully removed the last of his clothing, leaving him completely bare before you. The tension in the room was palpable, but you couldn't resist easing it with a light-hearted joke. “Can I look this time?” you asked with a teasing grin.

Spencer laughed, the sound nervous but genuine, and it was enough to break the heavy silence hanging over you both. “Yes,” he replied, his voice still a bit shaky. “You can look.”

So look you did, your eyes trailing down his body with genuine admiration. And when your gaze settled, you couldn’t help but let out a playful gasp, your tone incredulous. “You’ve been hiding this from me? Are you kidding, Spencer?”

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face for a brief second. “What? Is it… is it bad?” His voice trembled, the insecurities he’d tried so hard to suppress bubbling up to the surface again.

You immediately shook your head, moving closer to him, gently pushing him to lie back on the bed as you sat beside him. “No, baby, it’s not bad,” you reassured him softly. Your hand reached out, wrapping around him gently, and Spencer’s body tensed at the sensation. “It’s really not bad.”

“Ah—fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips instinctively bucked upward. It was the first time he had ever felt someone else touch him like this, and the overwhelming sensation sent shivers through his entire body. His breath hitched, and his hands fisted in the sheets, the intensity of the moment almost too much for him.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, your thumb gently brushing over his tip as you whispered, “You are so pretty, baby.”

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest, his face flushing as he absorbed your words. The mix of vulnerability and pleasure left him almost speechless, his mind reeling as you continued to touch him, each movement slow and careful. He had never felt anything like this before, and the way you handled him with such care only made him fall even more in love with you.

As your hand moved with gentle strokes, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips, whispering between kisses, “I’m so lucky to have you.” 

Spencer’s groans turned softer, his body melting into the bed beneath you as he let go of his fear, letting himself trust in you completely. “I love you,” he murmured breathlessly, his voice laced with both awe and gratitude.

“And I love you,” you whispered back, knowing that this was more than just a physical connection—it was a moment of deep trust and love between you both.

You took your other hand, softly stroking Spencer's thighs, your fingers trailing gently over his strong, lean muscles. His body, always so unassuming beneath his clothes, was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. The way his thighs tensed under your touch made your mouth water, a thrill running through you as you explored this new side of him.

“Your body is so beautiful, Spencer,” you murmured, your voice tender and full of affection. “I hope you never hide it from me again.”

Spencer’s breath hitched at your words, his face flushed as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, but also a growing confidence, fueled by the love and desire you showered him with. “I-I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, “that you’d think that.”

You smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his thigh, feeling his body tense beneath your lips. “Well, I do. And I always will.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his hand reaching out to grip your arm, needing something to ground himself as the intensity of your touch overwhelmed him. “You’re… amazing,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you continued to caress him.

You smiled against his skin, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. “I’m just showing you what you deserve, Spence.”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as your hand shifted from his thigh to gently cup his balls, rolling them softly between your fingers. His breath stuttered, and his body instinctively arched off the bed, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of pleasure. His hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white as he fought to hold on for just a moment longer, but it was no use. His back arched further, his hips jerking as he reached his peak, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping his lips as he came.

“There you go, baby,” you whispered softly, your voice soothing, filled with nothing but love and reassurance. “Let it go.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over him. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but not in the way that used to scare him. This time, it was different. This time, he felt safe with you, completely open and raw, knowing you wouldn’t judge him.

He tried not to feel embarrassed as the aftershocks pulsed through him, knowing full well he didn’t last long—especially not when it was you touching him like this. But there was something comforting in the way you held him, in the way your hands never faltered, even in moments like this. You didn’t mind.

And that reassurance made all the difference.

As he slowly came down from his high, Spencer let out a long, deep sigh, his body sinking into the bed beneath him. He blinked up at you, his cheeks still flushed, his breath still uneven. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t last long again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but there was less hesitation this time.

You smiled gently, brushing a hand through his messy hair and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Spence,” you said softly, your tone full of affection. “You know I don’t mind. I love you exactly the way you are.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at your words, the lingering tension in his body slowly dissipating. He gave you a small, shy smile, his hand finding yours and squeezing it lightly. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

You lay beside him, pulling him into your arms as his body finally relaxed, his breathing evening out. You continued to stroke his hair, the gentle rhythm calming him as you whispered sweet reassurances. And in that moment, Spencer realized just how lucky he was—to have you, to feel this safe, and to be loved in a way he had never known before.

—

It was the kind of lazy Sunday morning that begged you to stay in bed, curled up in soft blankets with no obligations pulling you away. The sun streamed lazily through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room, but the promise of fresh pastries and coffee was too tempting to ignore. The two of you reluctantly peeled yourselves from the comfort of the bed, Spencer stretching languidly while you threw on something cozy for your impromptu breakfast outing.

The local bakery was a short walk away, and as you strolled hand-in-hand, the air crisp with a touch of autumn, you could smell the fresh bread and sweet confections wafting through the air long before you even arrived. The warm scent wrapped around you like a comforting hug, and Spencer squeezed your hand gently, smiling down at you as the two of you walked in step, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment.

Once you stepped inside, the small bakery was bustling, the display case filled with perfectly baked croissants, éclairs, and muffins, each one more enticing than the last. You and Spencer made your way to the counter, excitedly picking out a selection of pastries along with two steaming cups of coffee.

After grabbing your tray of treats, you found a little table tucked in the corner by the window, where the morning light spilled across the tabletop, catching the powdered sugar that had already dusted the surface. You sat down, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as the two of you settled into your seats, a quiet bubble of comfort surrounding you amidst the hum of the bakery.

The moment felt perfect, simple in its beauty, as you and Spencer started tearing into the pastries, the flaky layers scattering crumbs across the table. You picked up a piece of your croissant, the sweet filling spilling out, and with a playful grin, you held it up to Spencer’s lips. 

“Here, try this,” you said, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you offered him the bite.

Spencer leaned forward, always eager to try something you loved, but as he took a bite, he purposefully let some of the creamy filling smear across his lips. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking your head as you leaned over the table to wipe it away with your thumb. 

“Messy,” you teased, your voice full of affection as you swiped the pastry cream from his lips.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched you, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, am I?” he said with a grin, and before you had a chance to react, he swiped some frosting from the sticky cinnamon roll and playfully dabbed it on your cheek.

“Now you’re messy,” he declared triumphantly, his smile widening as he watched your eyes go wide in surprise.

You gasped dramatically, reaching up to touch your cheek and finding the sticky frosting smeared across your skin. “Spencer!” you protested, laughing as you grabbed a napkin to clean yourself up, but not before flicking a tiny crumb in his direction in retaliation.

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! No more food fights,” he said, though the grin on his face made it clear he was enjoying every second of your playful exchange.

The two of you dissolved into laughter, the kind of uninhibited joy that made your sides ache and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the crumbs covering the table, not the frosting still clinging to your face, not even the curious glances from the other patrons. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in your own world of love, playfulness, and laughter.

—

The local library had always been Spencer's sanctuary, a place where he found comfort in the stillness, surrounded by shelves filled with knowledge, each book a portal to another world. He had spent countless hours there over the years, developing close bonds with the librarians who worked there. So, when the head librarian’s birthday party was being celebrated, Spencer was eager to bring you along, excited to introduce you to the people who had been a significant part of his life for so long.

As you walked through the library doors, Spencer’s hand tightly holding yours, you could sense how much this place meant to him. There was a sparkle in his eyes, a lightness in his step that spoke of his deep connection to this space. The library wasn’t just a building filled with books—it was part of his identity, a place where he found peace, knowledge, and belonging.

The event itself was small, intimate, just a gathering of close friends, staff, and patrons who knew the librarian well. Balloons were strung around the circulation desk, and a small table was set up with cupcakes and tea. The room buzzed softly with the chatter of people who clearly adored each other, and the air was filled with the smell of old books and sugary sweetness. It was simple, but it felt special, like you had stepped into a warm, welcoming corner of Spencer’s world.

As you entered, Spencer’s excitement was palpable. He gently tugged you along, his face beaming as he navigated the crowd with ease, weaving through the maze of bookshelves toward a small group of people near the front desk. The closer you got, the more you could feel his pride radiating from him.

Finally, you reached the librarian, a kind-faced woman in her sixties who immediately lit up when she saw Spencer. She welcomed him with open arms and a big smile. “Spencer!” she exclaimed warmly, her eyes twinkling with genuine affection. “I’m so glad you made it!”

Spencer smiled back, his hand never leaving yours as he took a step closer. “Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but full of enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t miss it.” Then, with a hint of excitement, he turned to you, his eyes sparkling with joy. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with love and pride as he introduced you. “I’ve been dying to introduce her to you.”

You could feel the weight of those words, how much it meant to him that you were there with him in this special place, sharing a piece of his world.

The librarian turned to you, her warm smile widening as she reached out to shake your hand. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she said with a knowing grin, her eyes flicking back to Spencer for a moment. “He never stops talking about how wonderful you are.”

Spencer blushed instantly, the pink flush creeping up his cheeks as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter, embarrassed but clearly proud at the same time. “She’s pretty amazing,” he said softly, glancing at you with such affection that it made your heart swell.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, your chest fluttering with warmth and love. In that small, cozy room filled with Spencer’s friends and colleagues, you felt like you were truly a part of his world, welcomed into the parts of him that were private, cherished, and deeply personal.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in easy conversation, with Spencer introducing you to more of the people who had become like family to him over the years. You could see how much they cared for him, how deeply they admired his intelligence and gentle nature, and how excited they were to meet you. Every introduction was filled with kind words and warm smiles, and each time Spencer’s hand remained in yours, his grip a reassuring constant, a reminder that this moment was as important to him as it was to you.

Later, as you both stood by the cupcake table, Spencer absentmindedly brushing crumbs off your chin from the chocolate cupcake you’d indulged in, you caught him watching you with a soft, almost reverent expression. “What?” you asked, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks under his gaze.

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m just really happy you’re here,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible above the low hum of chatter in the room.

You smiled, reaching up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “I’m happy to be here,” you replied softly. “I love seeing this side of you, Spence.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently on the forehead, his thumb stroking your hand as he pulled back. “You’re a part of it now,” he whispered. “A part of all of this.”

And in that moment, you felt like you truly were. Spencer’s world, filled with books, warmth, and the people who had shaped him, now included you. You were building something beautiful together—slowly, steadily, and with every shared experience, you were growing closer, learning more about each other, and weaving your lives together in ways that felt as natural as breathing.

—

Spencer had returned to the nightclub feeling confident and secure in your relationship. After all the beautiful moments you had shared—bookstore dates, Sunday mornings filled with laughter and pastries, intimate nights spent wrapped in each other's arms—he thought nothing could come between you two. But as soon as he stepped back into the club, all of that confidence started to erode.

At first, Spencer tried to keep calm, to enjoy the night as just another visit to your world. He watched you from across the room, smiling and laughing with the staff and customers. But then his gaze landed on Sean, who was standing much too close to you, his body language too familiar, his laugh too casual and comfortable. Spencer’s stomach churned, but he kept it to himself, telling himself that it was just work—that Sean had no place in your personal life. 

But then it happened.

Spencer saw Sean’s hand casually smack your ass. You had your back to Spencer, so you couldn’t see his reaction, but you laughed at Sean’s action, clearly finding it harmless. You didn't think twice about it, but Spencer's vision blurred with a sudden surge of anger. His blood boiled, his breath caught in his chest, and every rational thought flew out of his mind. The sight of someone else—Sean, of all people—touching you like that felt like a punch to his gut.

Before he could stop himself, Spencer stormed across the club, his footsteps heavy with intent. His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into tight fists as he closed the distance between you and Sean. He didn’t care about the crowd or how it might look. All he could see was red—his insecurities and fears bubbling up to the surface with a force he hadn’t expected.

By the time he reached you, Sean was laughing, clearly oblivious to the brewing storm that was Spencer. Without a word, Spencer grabbed Sean by the collar, pulling him toward him with more aggression than he’d ever shown before. The music in the club seemed to dim in Spencer’s ears, and the people around him faded into the background.

“Don’t you ever touch her like that again,” Spencer growled, his voice low and dangerous, the words spilling out before he could even process them.

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as you turned to see Spencer—his face twisted in anger, his usually calm and collected demeanor gone. You had never seen him like this before, never seen him this furious, this close to losing control. You quickly stepped between them, putting a hand on Spencer’s chest to stop him from doing something he’d regret.

“Spencer, stop!” you exclaimed, your voice laced with confusion and concern. “What are you doing?”

But Spencer’s gaze was locked on Sean, his grip on the bartender’s collar tight. Sean, for his part, looked stunned but didn’t fight back, raising his hands in defense.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, man,” Sean stammered, trying to defuse the situation. “It was just a joke.”

But to Spencer, it wasn’t a joke. It was a direct assault on everything he feared—the fear of not being enough, the insecurity that had been festering inside him since the day he first saw Sean. And now, all that pent-up jealousy and anger was pouring out in one destructive moment.

You could feel Spencer’s chest heaving beneath your hand, his breathing ragged as he stood there, frozen in his fury. Your heart raced, and you knew you needed to stop this before it escalated any further.

“Spence,” you said softly, trying to get through to him. “Baby, please let go. This isn’t you.”

For a long moment, it seemed like he hadn’t heard you, his eyes still boring into Sean’s. But then, slowly, the tension in Spencer’s body began to ease. His grip on Sean’s collar loosened, and finally, he let go, stepping back and running a shaky hand through his hair. His face was still flushed with anger, but the look in your eyes—hurt, confused, pleading—cut through the haze of his rage.

Spencer glanced between you and Sean, suddenly aware of what he’d done, of how far he’d let things go. Guilt washed over him like a cold wave, and he took a step back, his hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“I—I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the thumping music. “I didn’t mean to…”

But the damage was done. You stood there, still in shock, trying to process what had just happened, while Sean backed away, clearly wanting to put some distance between himself and the situation.

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to make sense of what had just unfolded. Spencer—your Spencer—had never acted like this before. And as much as you wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, you couldn’t ignore the heaviness in your chest, the weight of what had just happened.

Spencer looked at you, his eyes wide with regret, but all you could do was stare back, unsure of what to say, unsure of what came next.

The tension in the air was palpable as security started making their way over, eyes locked on Spencer with the clear intent of handling the situation. Your heart sank even further, realizing that this night had spiraled so far out of control. Before you could say anything, Sean held up a hand to stop them. “It’s fine, Steve,” Sean sighed, shaking his head. “We’re good.”

But his words didn’t ease the knot in your chest. You looked at Sean, “Are you?” Then at Spencer, who stood there looking lost and ashamed. “Are we?” you muttered, your voice heavy with sadness. Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and walked away, unable to even look at Spencer right now. The weight of his actions, of what had just happened, was too much to process in that moment.

Spencer’s heart dropped as he watched you walk away, the pit in his stomach growing deeper with every step you took. “Y/N! Please wait!” he called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You were too overwhelmed, too upset. He chased after you, his feet moving quicker as the panic set in. “Sweetheart, please!” Spencer begged, following you all the way back into your office.

You stepped inside, your hands shaking as you slammed the door shut behind you. The lock clicked into place, but before Spencer could say another word, you whirled around, the anger and frustration bubbling over.

“He’s fucking gay, Spencer!” you yelled, the words coming out with a mix of hurt and exasperation.

Spencer froze, his face falling in utter confusion. “What?” he stammered, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of what you just said.

“I didn’t tell you because it’s not my place,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of the emotions swirling inside you. “And frankly, it doesn’t fucking matter, but Jesus, Spencer!” You raised your hands in disbelief, the frustration too much to contain.

Spencer stood there, his mind racing as he tried to grasp what you were saying. “I—I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know… I just, he slapped your—your butt, and I saw red. I lost control.”

You ran a hand over your arm, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make sense of why this had gotten so out of hand. Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there as you asked, “Spencer, you’ve seen my friends do it all the time. Hell, your team smacks your ass, and it’s all in good fun. How is it different?”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes dropping to the floor as guilt washed over him. He didn’t have an answer—at least not one that made sense. The truth was, it wasn’t different. But somewhere in the haze of his jealousy and insecurity, he had convinced himself that Sean was a threat. That somehow, Sean’s friendship with you, the easy banter and playfulness between you two, meant he had something Spencer didn’t. And tonight, all of that had come crashing down in the worst way.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his shame. “I—I guess I just got scared. I got jealous. I didn’t think.”

You shook your head, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes as you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You didn’t think at all,” you muttered, your voice tinged with disappointment. “You didn’t trust me.”

Spencer winced at your words, the truth of them hitting him harder than any reprimand could. “I do trust you,” he said quickly, stepping forward, his hand reaching out for yours. “I trust you more than anyone. I just… I let my insecurities get the best of me. I know it was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, rubbing your temple as you tried to process everything. You wanted to believe him, to believe that this was just a one-time mistake, but the hurt still lingered. “Spencer, I love you,” you began, your voice softer now, but still firm. “But you can’t keep letting your insecurities drive you. I’ve told you time and time again—there’s no one else. No one but you.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know that, I do. But when I saw that… when I saw him touch you, it just—everything I’ve been feeling came to the surface. And I’m so sorry I didn’t handle it better.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the desk, still trying to calm your racing heart. “You scared me, Spencer. I’ve never seen you act like that.”

He stepped closer, his face full of regret, his hand reaching out again as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to scare you. I just… I messed up. I know I did. Please, sweetheart, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just… don’t walk away from me.”

You looked at him, his eyes filled with guilt and desperation, and you knew he meant every word. Spencer was never one to lash out like this, never one to let his emotions get the best of him. But tonight, his insecurities had taken over, and now you both were left picking up the pieces.

After a long moment, you took a deep breath and nodded, your voice steady but still firm. “You need to work on this, Spencer. This jealousy, this need to protect me from something that isn’t even there. We can’t have this happen again.”

“I will,” he promised, stepping closer and taking your hands in his. “I swear to you, I’ll work on it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please… forgive me.”

"You need to go apologize to Sean," you said, your tone firm but not unkind. "And maybe... maybe you should think about seeing a therapist or counselor. This—this kind of insecurity, it’s not healthy for you or for us."

Spencer nodded, his head hanging low as he absorbed your words. He knew you were right. He had let his own fears and jealousy take control, and now he was faced with the aftermath. "You're right," he repeated, his voice tired and remorseful. "You’re absolutely right."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, trying to gather himself. His mind was racing, filled with guilt and the weight of what he had done. He knew he had crossed a line, and it hurt to think that he had not only disrespected Sean but also hurt you in the process.

"I’ll go apologize right now," Spencer said, his voice steady, though there was a slight tremble beneath the surface. He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret, but also determination. He wanted to make this right. Not just for you, but for himself.

You gave him a small, encouraging nod, knowing that this was a step in the right direction. "Good," you replied quietly. "But Spence, don’t just apologize for what you did—make sure you understand why you did it. That’s the only way this is going to get better."

"I know," he said softly, his hand reaching out to take yours, squeezing gently. "I’ll fix this. I swear."

You watched as Spencer turned and walked toward the door, his shoulders slightly slumped with the weight of everything he had to face. As he left the office, you let out a long breath, hoping that this moment would be a turning point. For both of you.

Spencer walked up to the bar with hesitant steps, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of what he needed to do, the guilt and embarrassment swirling together in a tight knot in his stomach. As he reached the bar, he stood there for a moment, awkwardly waiting for Sean to notice him. His palms were sweaty, and he rubbed them against his jeans, trying to calm himself.

Finally, Sean approached, clearly still a bit shaken from the earlier confrontation, but his expression was guarded, more curious than angry. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to speak.

“H–hi, Sean,” Spencer stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flicked up to meet Sean’s briefly before dropping back to the floor, the guilt weighing heavily on him. “I… I am so sorry for what I did earlier.”

Sean’s face softened slightly, though his guard didn’t completely drop. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter, waiting for Spencer to continue.

“I completely overreacted,” Spencer admitted, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I said and did things I never should have. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t… I didn’t even know the whole story, and I just assumed the worst.”

Sean stayed quiet for a moment, studying Spencer. He could see the sincerity in Spencer’s eyes, the regret etched in every line of his face. Finally, Sean let out a soft sigh, uncrossing his arms.

“Look, man,” Sean began, his tone more understanding than Spencer had anticipated. “I get it. I’ve seen guys lose it over jealousy before. But that doesn’t make what you did okay.”

Spencer nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “I know,” he said, his voice strained. “It’s not okay, and I regret it. Y/N means everything to me, and I let my insecurities cloud my judgment. I’m not trying to make excuses… I just wanted to apologize.”

Sean leaned back slightly, his arms resting on the bar as he gave Spencer a small, almost sympathetic smile. “I appreciate the apology,” he said. “Just… maybe work on not jumping to conclusions next time, alright?”

Spencer nodded vigorously, his heart still racing but relieved that Sean hadn’t completely written him off. “I will,” he promised, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “I’m going to talk to someone about it. I’m… I know I need to deal with this.”

Sean nodded, his expression easing a little more. “Good. And just so you know, man, I’m not interested in Y/N. Like, at all.” He gave Spencer a meaningful look, letting the words sink in.

Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah… I, uh, I know now. I’m sorry I ever thought otherwise.”

Sean let out a small chuckle, shaking his head and gave Spencer a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re good. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Thank you, Sean,” he said quietly, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “I really appreciate it.”

Sean offered a small smile in return. “No problem. Take care of her, alright?”

Spencer nodded again, his heart swelling with a renewed sense of determination. “I will,” he promised, meaning every word.

And with that, Spencer turned away from the bar, feeling lighter than he had when he’d first walked up. He still had a lot of work to do, but this was a start—a step in the right direction.

—

Spencer navigated his way carefully through the hallway, dodging the maze of moving boxes that now cluttered the apartment. The feeling of excitement from his therapy breakthrough still thrummed inside him as he called out for you. 

“Y/N!” he shouted, eager to share his day.

“In the bedroom!” your voice echoed back warmly.

As he pushed past the last of the boxes, Spencer entered the bedroom and found you sitting cross-legged on the floor. A box of printed photos lay open in front of you, and scattered around were dozens of pictures, some slightly faded with time, others bright and new. You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, your cheeks glowing from a mixture of nostalgia and emotion.

“What do you have there, sweetheart?” Spencer asked gently, his voice filled with warmth as he crouched down beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You sniffled and smiled, holding up one of the photos—a snapshot of the two of you from a Sunday morning at the bakery, crumbs on your faces, laughing uncontrollably. “All of our memories,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I found this box while I was packing. I didn’t realize we had so many photos together.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at the sight of the old pictures and the happy tears in your eyes. He gently took the photo from your hand and studied it for a moment, the joy from that day flooding back to him. He remembered the way you had fed him pastries, how you had teased him for getting frosting on his nose, how perfect the world had felt in those little moments.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve made a lot of good memories, haven’t we?” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over the scattered photos.

You nodded, blinking back the tears as you picked up another picture—one from the bookstore, where you had sneakily snapped a photo of him deep in thought, completely absorbed in the world of books. “I never want to forget any of this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything the photos represented.

Spencer sat down beside you, his heart full as he looked over the memories you had collected. “Hey,” He said softly, taking your hand in his. “I had a breakthrough at therapy today.”

You looked up at him, your tear-filled eyes widening with interest. “You did?”

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. I think I’m finally starting to understand where all that insecurity came from… and how to manage it better. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but… I’m getting there.”

Your smile widened as you squeezed his hand, pride swelling in your chest. “Spence, that’s amazing,” you said, your voice filled with love and encouragement.

He squeezed your hand back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve been so patient with me, even when I wasn’t always patient with myself.”

Your eyes widened at his words, the weight of the question sinking in as you looked up at Spencer. The room seemed to still for a moment, the sound of your breath catching in your throat the only noise breaking the silence. You blinked, trying to process what he had just asked, your heart racing in your chest.

“Will you marry me?” Spencer repeated, his voice softer this time, but no less certain. His eyes were filled with love, vulnerability, and a touch of nervousness, as if he’d been carrying this question for a while, waiting for the right moment to let it out.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, this time from pure joy. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you took in the sincerity of his expression. He wasn’t just asking for a promise—he was asking to continue writing the rest of your story together, side by side, forever.

You cupped his face with your hands, your heart swelling with love and excitement. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer let out a breath he was holding, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he pulled you into a deep, heartfelt kiss. Relief, joy, and love coursed through him all at once, making the moment feel surreal. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let you go.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were laughing through the tears, caught up in the magic of the moment.

“You really want to marry me?” you teased gently, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers lightly brushing his cheek.

“More than anything in this world,” Spencer said, his voice full of conviction. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart felt like it might burst as you nodded, still in awe of how this moment had unfolded. “I want that too,” you whispered, “forever.”

Spencer kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the sweetness of the moment, the promise of a future filled with more memories, more laughter, more love. And as you sat there, surrounded by the snapshots of your shared past, you couldn’t help but feel excited for all that was yet to come.

You pulled back from the kiss, a playful glint in your eyes. “And hey,” you teased, running a hand through his hair, “maybe you can wear white at the wedding.” Your smirk deepened as you watched Spencer’s expression shift from one of love to amusement.

Spencer threw his head back, laughing loudly, the sound filling the room and making your heart flutter. You always loved how his laugh could light up any space. “I have one problem with your plan,” he said, still chuckling, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh yeah? What’s that, honey?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, fully enjoying the banter between you two.

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice low and full of playful confidence as he said, “I don’t plan on being pure for much longer.”

You burst into laughter, your cheeks flushed from both the teasing and the thrill of the moment. “Oh, is that so?” you teased, leaning into him, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we?”

Spencer grinned, his blush deepening as he kissed you again, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “I guess we will,” he murmured against your lips, his tone both playful and full of promise. 

The two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the lightness of the moment mingling with the deep love you shared. It was another memory added to the many you had created together, and you couldn’t help but feel that your future, together as partners, was only just beginning.

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

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[damiansgoodgirll]

Can I request a Damian Priest x reader fic?, reader thinks Damian is cheating on her with Kayden so she distances herself from him and tries to avoid him. She's been hurt in the past (By ex partner) hence her accusations.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are more than welcomed!

‼️angst, mention of cheating, feels, ex partners mentioned

odyssey of love

damian loved you. you had no doubt on that. he loved you more than anything, you were his partner, his ride or die, his best friend, his lover. there was no reason for you to doubt of his love for you. and yet, you couldn’t get past that feeling of damian and kayden being constantly together.

they’ve been friends for many years, he knew her before he got to meet you so you weren’t surprised there was a special bond between the two of them.

but having her around all the time was getting tiring. when you were at damian’s place, she was there. you didn’t mind filming their tiktoks, but you minded having her all the time when it was supposed be just you and your boyfriend.

you barely had free time together anymore.

car rides? she took your spot and now you felt like they were dating and you were the friend.

movie nights? she was always there, stealing your spot on the couch, getting more and more comfortable next to damian.

gym? he started training more with her than you, leaving you alone or with rhea sometimes.

your heart didn’t want to think that damian was capable of cheating on you with her, but your mind was playing tricks with you and at this point you were sure he liked her more than you.

rhea noticed how you distanced yourself when you were all out together. at dinner you always took spots near damian but now you didn’t even care, all you wanted to do was disappear.

you thought that after your past relationship, you finally had found peace with damian. he promised you that he would never hurt you, that he would never lie to you. he promised and you believed him. still healing from what your ex boyfriend left you with. trust issues, insecurities and a lot of traumas.

but damian was different, or so you thought.

you knew you had to confront him somehow. you deserved to know if he was cheating on you. you needed to know before you became paranoid. and when he texted you that he would come over at your place with food and drinks, you knew it was now or never.

damian knew that something was wrong the moment you didn’t greet him at the gym two weeks ago. he found it weird, maybe too weird. being used to your bubbly personality, he thought that something was wrong the exact moment you avoided him and kept training with rhea. he tried to have conversations with you for the past days but you always dodged him off.

he was tired of it. he needed to know what was going on. he needed to know if your feelings for him changed. so when he offered to have a take out night at your place, he hoped for you to say yes. and when you agreed, he was more than happy to see his girl.

you were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear damian opening your front door with the spare keys you gave him once your relationship got serious.

sitting on the couch, you pretended to be lost in whatever show the tv was playing, waiting for damian to make his appearance into your living room.

“hey beautiful” he whispered, not wanting to disturb you as he thought you were interested in the show.

“oh, hey damian…” you made him sit next to you on the couch, helping you set the little table in front of you with all the foods he brought “did you leave any food for other people or did you take it all?” you joked seeing the amount of food he got.

he laughed, missing your sarcastic jokes “i did…i tried to contained myself but i trained all day with kayden and now i’m starving…” he joked, not noticing how your body tensed up at the mention of the young woman.

“we should eat before it gets cold…” you tried to avoid any weird feelings and instead focused on the food since you didn’t have lunch.

“uh uh…i want a hug first…and a kiss from you amor” he smirked. how could you say no? you were down bad for him and that hurt more.

you laughed, accepting him with open arms. you felt his head laying over your shoulder and his lips softly kissing your neck “i missed you so much baby…” he murmured softly, leaving more kisses upon your skin until he reached your face.

for a moment you forgot everything that has been happening and melted when his lips gently touched yours. his hands moved to your hips, as he sat down and took your place on the couch, he led you over his lap. your hands moved behind his neck, bringing him closer to your face “how i missed you baby…” he softly moaned.

you knew you had to stop before that led to something more. he was there for a reason and you wouldn’t have slept peacefully if you didn’t have your answers “baby…we should really eat, i’m starving” you whispered against his lips, making him smile into the kiss.

“fine…but later that night, i’m eating something else” he winked as he let your hips go so you could sit on the couch next to him.

your face blushing. he knew the power he had on you.

as you both ate, he asked you about your day and your week since he didn’t see you much. you’ve explained him what you were up to and when you asked him about his week, the answer he gave you made you sick.

why was kayden everywhere?

“…oh and she made me film probably ten tiktoks just yesterday” he laughed but got serious when he turned to look at you and saw your teary eyes “baby? are you okay?” he got worried.

“damian are you cheating?” you asked. no coming back now.

he was taken aback by your question. he wasn’t cheating so he didn’t know why did you get that idea “mi amor…what?” he turned off the tv so there was nothing distracting you from the conversation you were going to have “por favor, mirame…why would you think that?”

you couldn’t help but let those tears fall “it’s just…you’re always with her…”

“with who amor?”

“with her, kayden…and i feel like i’m not enough for you anymore…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but even the thought of damian cheating on you was killing you.

“y/n, baby…no, why would you think that?” his voice softened as he helped you sitting between his legs “nothing’s going on between me and her, i promise you…”

“she’s everywhere damian…she took my spot in your car, she took my spot on the couch next to you, she took my spot at dinner…she’s always there to film tiktoks and then making excuses to stay more…she started training with you so i had to train alone everytime rhea wasn’t available…i just need to know if you don’t want me anymore damian…” your voice broken with sobs as more tears fell down “please…i deserve to know…i don’t wanna go through this all over again, not with you…” you broke down crying even more.

damian’s heart broke. he couldn’t believe he was the reason you were crying in his arms. he knew about your ex relationship and he promised you to protect you, to be there for you “hey hermosa…shh…don’t cry baby, it’s okay…” he whispered trying to calm you down. your head was laying on his shoulder while your tears flew into his t-shirt.

he kept whispering soft words to help you calm down and when your breath slowed again, he gently lifted your head up so he could take a good look at you. his hands went to wipe away all the tears that kept falling and he saw it in your eyes that somehow he broke your trust.

“everyone think you’re dating…i see the comments, i see people saying that you broke up with me and they’re happy about it” you spoke up “and if you are dating i need to know, please…don’t go behind my back like this, i can’t handle it again…” damian never heard you sounding so broken and he hated himself for letting this happen.

“listen to me amor…there’s nothing, absolutely nothing between me and kayden…we are just friends and that’s it, i promise you” he sounded so serious and you tried your hardest to believe him but due to all your trust issues, you didn’t know if what he was saying was true or not “i know you’re hurt right now…i understand and and im so fucking sorry…no te imaginas cuanto lo siento” he was trying to gain your trust back but he knew it was hard and he had to work for it “i never meant to make you feel like that, i wished i realised it sooner, i wouldn’t have let this happen, i promise you…”

a tear fell from his eye. he couldn’t stand the idea of losing you. you were everything for him. his first real love, his best friend, his partner in crime. you were his missing piece and he loved you too much to let you go.

“i believe you damian…” you sobbed a little, still trying to slow down your tears “it’s just, i felt so fucking jealous and paranoid this past week. you were constantly with her and everytime i tried to get to you, i felt like i was overstepping…”

he closed his eyes to stop more tears from falling. he was hating himself for all the pain he caused you “i don’t think i’ll ever stop apologising for the pain i caused you…but you have every right to know that there’s nothing between me and her…i don’t wanna lose you, you mean too much for me.”

you saw how vulnerable he was. you saw how he was trying his best not to break down in front of you “you’re not gonna lose me damian…i love you so much…i should have talked with you about this instead of attacking you of cheating, i’m sorry…” you realised that maybe overreacted but now you relieved.

“it’s okay…i should have noticed it sooner, i never meant to ignore you and i promise it will never happen again, te lo juro” he smiled softly and you nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder as his hands moved gently on your back, trying to release all the pent up stress you had.

you stayed there for a few minutes before you both continued to eat. you spent the night cuddling on your couch and damian stayed true to his promise as he made love to you all night long, showing you that you were the one he wanted.

not her, you.

———————————

por favor mirame = please look at me

no te imaginas cuanto lo siento = you can’t imagine how sorry i am

te lo juro = i promise you

[pandapetals]

Juno

worst wolverine/logan x afab!reader - i guess angst, inspired by sabrina carpenter's song juno, mentions deadpool but not in fic, logan being nice, no y/n used, no reader description, human reader, cute ending, age gap

After saving the universe with Wade, Logan decides to be a better guy especially after he sees you.

read on Ao3

He was the worst Wolverine until he wasn’t—at least in this universe. Logan had been given a second chance, one he hadn’t expected, and this time, he was determined to take full advantage of it. He wasn’t used to being the “nice guy,” but hell, after all the lives he’d lived, the bloodshed, and the mistakes, he figured it was about time he tried something different. Something better.

So, he did his best to get along with Wade, despite how many times he considered cutting the guy in half just to get a moment of silence. He tolerated Wade’s endless banter, his chaotic sense of humor, and even his wild group of friends. Logan also made an effort with Laura, doing his best to be some kind of father figure to her, even if he had no idea how to be one. He was a nice— nice-ish —gruff guy now, or at least he was trying to be.

That’s why, when he saw you for the first time, walking out of the apartment across the hall, he decided to pull out all the stops. You weren’t someone he could easily ignore, and that realization hit him harder than he cared to admit.

Logan had noticed you right away—young, maybe mid-twenties, with that kind of light in your eyes that only came from people whose weight of the world hadn’t yet worn down. There was something about you that drew him in, something about the way you carried yourself that made him pause. You were different from the kind of people Logan was used to. You were good in a way that felt foreign to him—bright, untainted, and impossibly out of reach but he couldn’t help himself.

So, he tried. He’d grunt a greeting whenever you passed him in the hallway, offering a half-smile that probably looked more like a grimace. He’d hold the door open for you, although he never bothered with that kind of thing for anyone else. Every time your paths crossed, Logan made sure to do something to get your attention—something small, something that felt almost ridiculous for a guy like him, but it mattered.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him—so soft, so genuine—that caught him off guard. Or maybe it was how you seemed so unbothered by his rough exterior like you weren’t intimidated by the man who was once feared across the multiverse. You just treated him like a person, and somehow, that made him want to be better.

One afternoon, Logan was leaning against the wall outside his apartment, a cigar between his lips, lost in his usual cycle of brooding thoughts when he heard your door open. Instinctively, his gaze flicked toward you. There you were, dressed casually, a bag slung over your shoulder as you fumbled with your keys. He pulled the cigar from his mouth, watching as you turned and met his eyes, giving him that same bright, unassuming smile that never failed to catch him off guard.

“Hey, Logan,” you said, your voice light and friendly like you’d known him forever.

Logan grunted in response, nodding slightly. “Hey.”

He wasn’t good at small talk. Never had been but for some reason, he found himself lingering there, his eyes following you as you locked your door and made your way down the hall toward the elevator.

“You headed somewhere?” he asked, surprising himself with the sudden question.

You paused, glancing back at him with a soft smile. “Just running some errands. Nothing exciting.” You looked him over for a moment, your eyes twinkling with something like amusement. “What about you? You always hanging out in the hallway like this?”

Logan smirked slightly, taking a slow drag of his cigar before answering. “Only when I’m bored. Which is most of the time.”

You chuckled, a sound that felt too easy, too natural coming from someone like you. It made Logan’s chest tighten, though he wasn’t sure why. “Maybe you need to find a new hobby,” you teased, tilting your head at him. “Something less... brooding.”

He couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that. “Brooding’s kind of my thing,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not exactly easy to shake.”

“I can see that,” you said, your smile widening. “But, you know, there’s more to life than standing around with a cigar, looking all intense.”

Logan’s smirk grew, despite himself. You had a way of making him feel... lighter. Like he didn’t have to carry the weight of everything all the time, he shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

You gave him one last lingering smile before heading toward the elevator. Logan watched you go, his eyes trailing after you as the doors slid shut behind you, leaving him alone again. Except, this time, something was different. The silence didn’t feel quite as heavy, quite as suffocating. He felt... less like the man he’d been, and more like the man he could be.

Over the next few weeks, Logan found more excuses to cross your path. He’d be leaving his apartment just as you were coming home, offering you a quiet nod and a gruff “hello” that somehow always led to a brief, easy conversation. He’d make sure to be around whenever you passed through, catching glimpses of your smile and feeling that strange warmth in his chest every time you acknowledged him.

One evening, you surprised him by knocking on his door. Logan opened it to find you standing there, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket, a shy smile on your lips.

“Hey,” you said, rocking on your heels a little. “I was about to order some takeout. Thought maybe you’d want to join me. Since, you know, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around in the hallway.”

Logan blinked, taken aback. No one ever just invited him to hang out—especially not someone like you. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first, the words caught somewhere between his usual gruff demeanor and the part of him that was genuinely touched by your offer.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

You smiled that bright, easy smile that made his heart do something strange in his chest. “Great. Chinese okay?”

Logan nodded, stepping aside to let you guide him into your apartment. Logan couldn’t help but think how absurd this would have seemed just a few months ago—him, in a normal apartment, about to have takeout with someone like you. Maybe that was the point of this second chance. To be something different. To be something better.

Maybe you were part of that better.

As you settled onto his couch, flipping through the takeout menu, Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, feeling that familiar tug deep inside him. You were young, full of life, and he was... well, he was trying. 

With a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Logan sat down beside you on your couch, the takeout menu loosely held in his hand. His eyes softened as they landed on you, but he couldn’t help the flicker of distraction that pulled his gaze toward your apartment. Something about being in your space, seeing the personal touches that made it you, tugged at him in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

“You really don’t mind me being here?” he asked suddenly, his fingers instinctively raking through the spiked hair. His tone was light, almost teasing, but the question had a layer of insecurity that caught even him off guard.

You laughed, that bright, warm sound that always made him feel lighter, more at ease. “No, I like you being here especially since you act all tough but really you’re cute.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he leaned back against the couch, still holding the menu loosely in one hand. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly, “you like me anyway.”

Logan didn’t deny it. He just glanced at you, his gaze soft, almost unreadable in its intensity, before letting out a quiet, almost reluctant laugh. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, you both fell into an easy silence, the kind that only happens when two people are comfortable with each other. 

Logan, never one to sit still for too long, found himself glancing around your apartment again. There was something about being in your space that fascinated him—maybe it was because your life felt so different from the chaos he was used to. It was quieter, softer, more... grounded.

His eyes landed on a vintage record player sitting on a small table near the window. A stack of vinyl records was neatly arranged beside it, the top one showing the faded cover of some old jazz album. Logan’s brow furrowed in mild curiosity.

“You actually use that thing?” he asked, nodding toward the record player, a faint smirk on his face.

You glanced over at it, smiling fondly. “Of course I do. There's something about vinyl that just sounds... different. Better, in a way. It’s like you can feel the music, you know?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at you like he was seeing you in a whole new light. “Didn’t peg you for the vinyl type.”

You chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Logan.”

That made him pause, something stirring in his chest. The idea that there were layers to you he hadn’t uncovered yet intrigued him. He glanced down at the menu in his hands, but his focus was still on you. He was here, sitting in your apartment, fumbling over a takeout menu, and all he could think about was how different his life felt now compared to just months ago.

You nudged him with your foot, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Come on, focus. What do you want to order?”

Logan grunted, shifting his attention back to the menu, but his mind kept drifting—first to the record player, then to the framed photos on your bookshelf, and then, inevitably, back to you. There was something about this—this quiet moment, the simplicity of choosing takeout and sitting on a couch with someone who made him feel less... lost. Something that felt like it mattered.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth, you settled on Chinese food. Logan called in the order, and while you waited for it to arrive, you slipped off the couch and walked over to the record player.

“Wanna see what you’ve been missing?” you asked, already pulling out a record and carefully placing it on the turntable.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Impress me.”

You smiled as the crackle of the needle hitting vinyl filled the room, followed by the warm, melodic tones of a classic jazz tune. The music washed over the space, and for a moment, Logan just listened, his eyes locked on you as you swayed lightly to the rhythm.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said softly, leaning back into the couch as he watched you.

“I try,” you teased, sending him a wink before joining him again on the couch.

As the music played, the two of you settled back into comfortable conversation, the warmth between you growing with each shared glance, each quiet laugh.

Weeks passed after that night, and before long, the easy camaraderie between you and Logan had deepened into something more. It wasn’t like he’d planned it—he’d never planned anything in his life. Somewhere between stolen glances in the hallway, lazy evenings spent listening to vinyl records, and quiet mornings where he found himself waking up next to you, Logan had fallen for you.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t something he had to agonize over. It was just... right. Like this was how it was supposed to be.

You didn’t push him, and maybe that was why it worked. You gave him space when he needed it, but you were there when he came to you—no judgment, no expectations. You let him be himself, and in return, he found himself wanting to be better for you.

As you lay beside him one lazy Sunday afternoon, your head resting on his chest while the soft sound of rain pattered against the window, you felt something shift between you. It wasn’t just the comfort of being together—it was the weight of something unspoken that had been building for weeks.

You turned your head slightly, looking up at him. Logan’s eyes were closed, his arm draped casually around your waist, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, grounding you in the warmth of the moment.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice soft, hesitant.

He grunted in response, opening one eye to glance down at you. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’d been thinking about this for a while now, but you hadn’t been sure how to bring it up. But here, now, in the quiet of your shared space, it felt like the right time. “I was thinking... maybe it’s time we took the next step.”

Logan’s fingers stilled for a moment, and you could feel him processing your words. He didn’t pull away or tense up the way you thought he might. Instead, he shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully.

“What do you mean?” His voice was soft and careful, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

“I mean...” You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want to be with you. Completely.” 

Logan blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment as he absorbed what you were saying. You searched his face, waiting for him to pull back, to tell you this was too much, too fast. But instead, he surprised you.

His hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You sure about that?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’m sure. I know what I want, Logan. And I want you. All of you.”

For a moment, Logan just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find any hesitation, any doubt. But when he didn’t find any, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face—the kind of smile you didn’t see often, but when you did, it melted your heart.

“If that’s what you want... then yeah. I want that too,” he said quietly, his voice rough but full of warmth.

Relief and joy washed over you, and without thinking, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. His hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the warmth between you growing into something more.

You felt the weight of his body as he shifted over you, the heat of his skin against yours as the rain continued to fall softly outside. And in that moment, with Logan’s arms wrapped around you, everything felt right. The future, whatever it held, didn’t feel so uncertain anymore.

You had each other and that was enough.

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~

(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal

Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort

His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.

He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.

"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.

It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.

Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.

It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.

A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.

Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.

"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."

"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.

"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.

The spymaster didn't answer.

"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"

He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.

His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.

Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.

How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.

"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.

"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.

Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.

The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."

In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.

These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.

Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.

Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.

He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.

Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.

After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.

He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.

He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.

Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.

The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.

The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.

Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.

It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.

But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.

6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.

This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.

Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.

Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.

On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.

Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?

Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.

The Walking Dead

A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?

The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.

It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.

The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.

A spell.

He almost dropped the book at the realization.

No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.

He knew what he needed to do.

[isnt-it-pretty]

I've been reflecting a lot recently on my reaction to the news stories I often see about the dangers of technology and social media, laws banning of cell phones during school hours, school divisions banning technology, the rise of teenage depression as a result of social media, etc. I've always felt defensive over technology when I see these stories, and I think I've realized why.

As a disabled person, my relationship with technology is different than a lot of people's. I use an ereader, for example, because I have low vision and find the font in physical books too small to read. I use the notes app on my phone instead of hand writing things because it's easier on my joints. I keep my cross stitch patterns as PDFs because I can zoom in to see the stitches I need, which I can't do when it's printed out. Even in high school I brought my personal laptop to type out essays because there was a 20% grade difference in essays I typed vs wrote by hand, and whenever I see classrooms banning all technology, I think about that. I write thousands of words for creative writing on my phone because I'm too fatigued to get out of bed. I learned to read because of audiobooks taken out as CDs from the library, something I now have access to in an app. As somebody who is housebound, my entire social life is on my phone. It's how survive, how I create.

If you were to take technology from me, I would be bereft, and not because of an addiction. Technology is simply something I use to navigate the world. Disabled people just like me have lived and loved and created (and still do!) without it, but that doesn't change that I rely on technology to do things I couldn't otherwise do. I never would have learned to read beyond maybe a middle school level without audiobooks. I never would have learned to write without word processors, both of which are a major part of my identity.

Technology, to me, is accessibility, and sometimes that feels forgotten in the sweeping condemnation of it. My defensiveness can sometimes make me overlook the real issues it causes for others, just like for others the problems it causes can make them overlook how necessary it is for some of us. I can't help but think about all I gain from it and where I would be now if I hadn't had access to what I did as a child. I see the harm technology can cause children and even still I wonder, as we condemn parents for ipads and schools for over relying on computers, how many others there are like me who don't even know what they need to ask for.

It's a complicated topic, and like most complicated topics, it gets broken dowm into bite sized pieces. The nuance gets lost.

[lilacmingi]

HYENA (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Hyena hybrid!Wooyoung x fem reader

Word count: 4,025

Note: I had to make Wooyo the hyenas because of his high-pitched, squeaky laugh lol

Your feet wobbled slightly as you stepped over chunky rocks. Clacking sounds followed after as some were knocked loose by your steps. You took a trip out to the desert to do some exploring, wanting to try something new and different for once, as well as check out a place you had never been to.

You had rented a Land Rover to get around in and were told to stay on a path which was marked by stakes in the ground. You were a fairly good navigator and the instructions were simple, so you weren't worried about getting lost. Plus, it's not like you were gonna go exploring places far off from the path.

The desert was exactly what you expected it to be—deserted. Which, in all honesty, was perfectly fine with you. The last thing you wanted was to run into some animal. You were really only out there to look at the scenery and take photos.

You made it to a slightly higher elevation where you spotted a cave somewhere in the distance, your interest immediately piqued. The main thing that interested you was where this cave was situated. The cavern was located near the ground, seeming almost like a burrow, but with cavelike characteristics; a large rock above the opening and messily clustered along the top and around the entrance of the cavern. Your curiosity got the best of you as you traipsed down the rocky hillside and onto the dusty dirt ground. You moved over to the opening of the cave and peered inside curiously. The opening was large enough for a person to walk in, which was odd.

You stepped inside, nearly slipping on the dirt as the ground sloped downward.

"Incredible." You murmured as you gazed around at the large amount of space inside.

A faint noise caught your attention, pulling your focus away from the well-constructed burrow. You furrowed your brows, unconsciously moving ahead.

The sound of cackling could be heard from somewhere within the cave. As it got louder, it sounded almost hyena-like. The ominous sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Thinking you walked right into some animal's home, you began moving back towards the entrance, keeping your eyes on the endless abyss where the laughter emitted from.

"Well, well, well, look what walked into my cave."

The voice startled you.

Was there a person living in the cave?

"Wh-Who's there?" You stuttered out, taking another step backwards.

A silhouette appeared in the shadows, slowly moving closer. The first thing you saw were bright, yellow irises, staring at you like a piece of meat. The sight was unsettling but it's not what really disturbed you—what really disturbed you were the ears on top of his head and the sharp canines in his mouth. The hybrid grinned wickedly at you as he slinked closer, his claws dragging along the cave wall making a eerie scraping sound that made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I didn't mean to trespass. I didn't know anyone lived here." You apologized, backing away.

"Do you see open caves and go inside as you please?" The man... animal, asked.

"I didn't think anyone lived here." You said, taking a few steps back.

"Why are you trying to run away?"

You couldn't think of an answer.

"Don't worry. I don't bite... hard." His voice was silken, but threatening, as there was an ominous undertone to his words.

You stumbled back into a corner, trying to get away, only to have the hybrid trap you between his arms. His head tilted to the side, his gold irises scanning you before he brought his face close to yours.

"How lucky am I?" He grinned, showing off a pair of sharp canines. "A delicious meal walking right into my cave."

"W-what?" You stuttered, your eyes unable to look away from the hyena's sharp fangs protruding from both his top and bottom rows of teeth.

He ignored you, leaning down to your neck, inhaling deeply, a short, guttural and animalistic growl rumbling in his throat.

"You smell delectable. I could just eat you up."

Your eyes instinctively screwed shut. If you were about to meet your demise, you didn't want the last thing you saw to be razor sharp teeth. His hot breath fanned against your neck as he moved even closer. You trembled, preparing to feel his long fangs dig into your flesh.

"But I won't." He added. "That would be such a waste. After all, a pretty girl like you deserves to be saved."

Your eyes flew open in both shock and fear. Shock, because your life was going to be spared. Fear, because you weren't sure what he was going to do with you.

He brought one of his clawed hands to your chin, holding it between his fingers as he tilted your face up.

Out of pure instinct, you pushed him as hard as you could away from you. To your shock, he stumbled back, hitting the dirt wall on the opposite side of the cavern, staggering slightly. You didn't think you pushed him that hard, but based on the way his jacket was flung off one shoulder by the impact, you'd say you shoved him a lot harder than you assumed.

That's when you noticed his thin figure. Even though he was clad in leather and fur, you could still see how slender he was. He regained his footing and adjusted his jacket, dusting his vest off as he glared at you, his eyes almost glowing with rage. Despite that, all you could think about was his slender figure. Though he was a hybrid, he was still part human. A real person.

"You seem a little underweight." You commented aloud.

He ran his hands through his black and blonde hair out of annoyance. "It's not exactly easy to find food out here, you know." He grumbled, his jaw clenched. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is deserted."

An idea suddenly popped into your head. One that would possibly save your life.

"What if I made you a deal?"

"A deal?" He scoffed. "What could you possibly offer me?"

"Food."

"I'm not interested in granola bars and trail mix, okay?"

"No, I mean a real meal."

"In exchange for what?"

"You letting me go."

"Elaborate."

"Come back to town with me and I'll treat you to a nice meal. Anything you want."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go into town around people?"

"We'll be eating in my hotel room. It's safer that way."

He stared at you for a few moments, visibly considering his options. Then, he nodded. "Alright. Deal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?" He shrugged.

"Great! Follow me." Your tone was unusually peppy, and rightfully so. You quite literally just bargained your way out of being held captive.

The hybrid followed you to the Land Rover you rented, keeping a close eye on you. Though you seemed friendly, he didn't completely trust you yet. If you show any sign of untrustworthiness even once, he would rip you to shreds... maybe. He was so confused. His instincts told him that you were food and he was in desperate need of sustenance, however, his heart squeezed a little at the thought of hurting you.

"Come on." You beckoned after getting inside the car.

He shook away his thoughts and climbed inside, situating himself in the passenger seat as you started the engine, hearing it roar to life.

"I see these things going up and down this path all the time. I've always wondered what it would be like to ride in one." The hyena commented aloud.

He tried holding back his excitement, but you could see it in his eyes.

"Well, now you get to find out." You smiled, driving down the dirt road. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated. "Can this thing go any faster?"

"It sure can." You punched the gas, causing the vehicle to jerk forward before zooming down the path.

The engine thrummed loudly in response to the sudden speed change. The road was straight, allowing you the freedom to do such thrilling things.

You took a moment to glance over at Wooyoung, noticing how he leaned forward in his seat, his hands gripping onto the dashboard. To your surprise, a joyful laugh left him. Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention back to the road.

Wooyoung watched as rocks and trees whizzed by, the warm wind blowing through his hair. It was so liberating and nothing like he'd ever experienced.

Unadulterated joy began bubbling up inside the hybrid and before he could stop it, laughter began spilling out of him. High pitched, hyena-like cackles escaped him without any warning, a bright smile on his face.

The sight was almost heartwarming. A "feral" hybrid like him laughing and having fun was unheard of. You had to remind yourself that the man beside you could was still part hyena and could attack at any given moment.

You returned back to your hotel, leading Wooyoung inside. You got some odd stares from passersby on the street as well as hotel staff, but you paid no mind to it—or tried to, at least. You knew seeing a feral hybrid out in civilization was probably startling to some people.

Once you were back in your hotel room and away from prying eyes, you felt like you could relax a little.

"Alright." You started, grabbing the room service menu. "Here. Pick whatever you want."

He took the menu, glancing down at it. Your eyes lingered on his long claws as he browsed the dishes.

It wasn't long until he chose what he wanted. You chose something for yourself and placed the order.

"It'll be about 20 minutes. You can get a shower while you wait. If you want to."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"No! Not at all." You shook your head. "I just assumed since—"

"Don't try to domesticate me." He snapped, cutting you off.

You backed off, muttering an apology.

The 20 minute wait felt like an eternity. Wooyoung stood in the corner of the hotel room while you sat on the bed. The atmosphere in the room was tense and had you feeling on edge. Relief flooded you when there was a knock on the room's door followed by, "Room service!"

"Oh, good. The food's here." You stood up from the bed, answering the door.

When you brought the food into the room, Wooyoung straightened up, his eyes widening slightly in interest. He sniffed the air a few times before moving closer.

"Come on. You can sit down." You gestured to the desk, placing his food down.

You took a seat on the end of your bed, watching the hybrid. He stared at the utensils for a moment before grabbing the fork, stabbing the thick piece of steak with it. You started to interject and tell him that he could use his knife, but decided against it, allowing him to eat as he pleased.

He began gnawing on the steak, his sharp canines piercing the meat. You could tell he hadn't eaten in quite some time. After a few moments, you looked away and started eating your own food.

"I've never had anything like this before." He commented, mouth full of steak. "It's so good."

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "I'm glad you like it."

Once the two of you finished eating, you took notice of how late it had gotten. You were supposed to take Wooyoung back to his den after you fed him.

"It's almost dark. I don't think I can get you back in time." You told the hybrid.

"But you are taking me back, right?"

"Yes, of course. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. You'll have to stay the night here."

"You want me to sleep in a bed?"

"Well, yes." You responded.

"Whatever." He muttered.

You tried to look past his snappy behavior and went to get the pullout couch ready. The room you rented was a normal hotel room with a bathroom, one bed, a pullout sofa, an office desk, TV, microwave, and mini fridge. Nothing special, but equipped with all the necessities.

"Here you go." You gestured.

Wooyoung took a seat, testing out the little mattress before lying down, not bothering to get under the sheets. You left the room to change into your pajamas and prepare for bed. When you returned, Wooyoung was still lying in the same spot, his golden-colored irises watching your every move. His eyes followed you as you walked across the small room over to your bed, slipping under the covers.

"I'm not gonna do anything." You told him.

"I don't know that."

You let out a sigh. "Goodnight, Wooyoung."

You clicked off the bedside lamp and laid down, pulling the covers up over you.

It took you a while to get to sleep, as you were a bit nervous sharing a room with a hyena hybrid. Part of you trusted him, thinking that he was just a lonely person, but the other half of you had to remind yourself that he was a feral and would attack you if necessary.

You rolled over in bed, the sun seeping in through the hotel room curtains. You stretched your limbs, turning to check on Wooyoung, not expecting the sight that met your eyes.

The hybrid was lying on his stomach and his face was squished against the pillow, small snores leaving him as he snoozed away. His ear twitched in his sleep, causing you to let out a quiet chuckle. He looked so peaceful and docile. You wanted so badly to squish his cheeks and give him a gentle kiss on the nose, but fought the urge to do so.

Just then, Wooyoung's eyes snapped open, staring directly at you.

"Good morning." You greeted him.

He quickly pushed himself up, seeming a bit frantic. Once he realized everything was fine, he relaxed.

"Well." You started, sitting upright. "I'm gonna get ready. It won't take long."

Wooyoung's eyes followed you as you went to your suitcase, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and going into the bathroom.

His heart felt heavy at the thought of being sent back home. Though he was still on edge around you, something in his chest tightened at the thought of separating from you.

The rental Land Rover came to a stop on the dirt road near the hyena's burrow. You put the car in park and turned to Wooyoung.

"Here we are." You announced.

As much as you didn't want him to leave, you knew he most likely wanted to go back to his den. And you wanted to kept your word. You only promised him a meal, nothing more.

You turned to Wooyoung who stayed in the passenger seat for a moment, staring out in the distance where his den was.

"Thanks for keeping your end of the deal." He told you.

"You're welcome."

He reluctantly got out of the car, walking towards his cave.

You weren't sure what to say. See you around? That would be stupid. You were going home in a couple days. You wouldn't see him.

"Well, goodbye." You finally spoke, putting the vehicle in drive.

"Wait." Wooyoung called out.

You paused, moving the gear shift into park.

"Yes?"

"I feel like I owe you." He told you.

"What? No. You promised to let me go and I promised to give you a nice meal. We're even."

"I still feel like I owe you. There's some nice places the tourists never show. Would you like to see them?"

The offer was nice and he seemed pretty set on making things up to you, so you agreed.

"Hop in." You gestured to the passenger seat.

Wooyoung took his place back in the seat and you took off, letting him lead the way.

The first place he showed you took a while to get to, but once you arrived, it was well worth your time. It was a vast stretch of land dotted with trees. A small herd of zebras stood around a small reservoir having a drink of water. You gasped in awe, pulling your camera out to snap a few photos.

"I haven't seen any animals around since I showed up here. I mainly came here for the scenery, but this is really nice."

"You have to go a little further to get to the good spots." Wooyoung told you.

"This is awesome." You marveled, stepping closer, taking more photos.

You stayed for a while until Wooyoung directed you to the next location. Each place he showed you was stunning. You were able to see all sorts of animals and get fairly close to some. It took a bit of driving to get to these places and sometimes you would have to get out of the car and walk, but you didn't mind. It was all well worth it.

The two of you sat on a large rock, watching a group of elephants walk across the long stretch of land.

"How do you know about all these places?" You asked.

"I get bored and tend to wander around."

"It must be lonely out here."

"Sometimes." He responded, his eyes staring out in the distance.

You were saddened by his response. You can't imagine what it's like to be out in the desert alone. You wanted to ask more, but he looked a little uncomfortable, so you changed the subject.

"Can I touch your claws?" You asked.

It's something you had been wanting to do. You had never encountered a hybrid with claws before so, naturally, you were intrigued.

He seemed amused by that question, letting out a chuckle. "Sure."

You took his hand, staring at his long, sharp nails. Your fingertips gently touched the end of his claws, feeling the sharp points of them.

Wooyoung watched you as you examined his hand, looking intently at his nails. The feeling of your fingertips running over his fingers and hand had him feeling extremely flustered.

He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away, unable to endure it any more.

"Come over here." He gestured, hopping off the rock he was perched on.

You followed behind as the both of you waded through the knee-high grass. He came to a stop at a hillside that overlooked a large part of the desert.

"Wow." You gaped. "This view is stunning."

"It is." Wooyoung smiled, softly.

You moved to stand under a tree, the shade giving you some relief from the heat of the sun's harsh rays. The warm breeze blew through your hair, helping to cool you off a bit.

You snapped a few photos of the scenery, wanting to remember it exactly as it is. You stayed and admired the view for quite some time before before heading back the way you came.

The two of you trekked through the grass, making on your way back to the vehicle. Just as you saw the Land Rover come into view, a low growl emitted from somewhere behind you. You spun around, a gasp leaving you at the horrifying sight; a dark, maroon-toned lion with a dark mane and a nasty scar over his eye slinked through the grass, his amber irises locked on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you took a step back.

Wooyoung's top lip curled back in a snarl as he pulled you behind him, keeping one arm protectively in front of you, shielding you from the predator prowling just mere feet away. The lion didn't seem to want to back down. Wooyoung bravely stepped closer, his claws ready to pierce into the animal as soon as it decided to attack.

You watched over Wooyoung's shoulder as the lion growled, taking a step forward. The hyena hybrid in front of you let out a menacing and threatening growl that rumbled in the back of his throat, warning the animal that if he got closer, it wouldn't be good.

The lion seemed to back off after that. For good measure, Wooyoung moved closer to the beast letting out an animalistic snarl as he bared his fangs. The lion gave an angry roar before turning away, leaving the two of you alone.

Your shoulders sagged in relief as Wooyoung turned towards you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, cupping your cheeks between his hands.

"Just a little shaken up, but I'll be fine." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You reassured him. "The sun is about to go down. I should get you back to your cave and head back to the hotel."

"But you're gonna miss the best part."

"What do you mean?"

"The stars."

"The stars?" You repeated.

"Yeah. I know a really good spot for stargazing. We'll have a great view."

The sun set and you found yourself sitting on the hood of your rental car which was parked off the trail and out in the middle of a grassy area. A myriad of stars hung in the sky above, standing out against the dark blanket that cloaked the atmosphere. Every once in a while, one of the stars would twinkle slightly, flickering for just a moment.

"Thanks for not eating me." You spoke up, cutting through the comfortable silence.

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle. "You're welcome, but I wouldn't have done it, anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why not? Did you think I'd taste bad?" You joked.

"No. It's not that." He shook his head. "I just couldn't do it. You looked too innocent."

You weren't sure if you should be flattered or insulted. Either way, your life was spared, and for that you were thankful.

"Well, that's reassuring. I think." You chuckled.

"Sorry. That came out wrong." He let out a sigh, frustrated about something that you weren't aware of.

"Are you alright?"

"No." He groaned. "My mind is a mess right now."

"Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind, then? It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense. Just talk it out." You told him.

"Alright. For starters, I had a really good time. These past two days have been amazing and honestly, I don't really wanna go back to my regular life. The thought of it kinda scares me."

Your brows raised slightly in surprise. You kept your composure, but on the inside you were freaking out. This whole time you'd been worried about leaving him to return to his normal life and come to find out, he didn't want to go back. You two were on the same page.

"I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't be attached to you. I shouldn't want to leave my den. I'm a feral hybrid—a wild animal. I'm not supposed to be feeling these things, but I do." He confessed.

"Wooyoung, would you like to come home with me?" You asked.

He seemed caught off guard by your offer.

"You can come live with me. I have an extra room. It'll be different from the life you're used to, but the offer is there if you want it."

"Yes." He answered immediately. "I do."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. After experiencing life away from the desert, I realize that's the life I want. Plus, everything is so much better, especially the food. The bed was nice too."

"That was just a pullout. Wait until you sleep in a real bed."

Wooyoung's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement after hearing that.

"Come on." You beckoned. "Let's head back to the hotel. I'll let you sleep in the big bed tonight." You slid off the hood of the car, Wooyoung following behind.

"Can we share the bed?" He asked, timidly as he got into the passenger seat.

"Only if you shower."

"Do I smell?" He questioned with a pout.

"No, but you've been living out in the wild and I think you should clean up before crawling into a clean bed."

"That's fair." He shrugged.

"Then it's settled." You gave a nod of finality before driving back the way you came.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Jongho:

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[cvrnelians]

premonition - chapter two

dark!tony stark x reader: Tony Stark is in love with his student intern. Terrified of the prospect of you leaving, he sets a plan into motion that could be considered unethical. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. A little.

As far as Tony is concerned, being the bad guy isn’t really so bad when the ends justify the means.

warnings: 18+ only minors DNI; non-con elements, obsessive and manipulative behavior

(gif is not mine)

PART ONE

⚙️CHAPTER TWO⚙️

You would see flashes of things, only ever in dreams.

Sometimes nightmares.

You tried to write them off as unimportant, but in truth, you could never quite shake them. Beeping hospital machines, an IV drip, dismal fluorescent lighting, a medical marijuana card. Generous stacks of paper, a steady stream of incoming emails, a well-ironed black blazer.

Somehow, you knew they weren’t just figments of your imagination. You were always able to tell the difference between dreams born from memories and regular dreams.

Memory loss isn’t always black and white. Every once in a while, a small shred of your past would rise to the surface. It was both satisfying and terrifying to discover something new—or rather, old—about yourself, about your life. Being a public figure was helpful in filling in the gaps. You had compiled a list of facts, aptly titled ‘The List of Facts.’

I grew up in foster care.

I have no knowledge of or contact with my birth parents.

I have no knowledge of or contact with my foster parents.

I have no friends.

People know who I am.

I work full-time as an assistant to a billionaire inventor.

I am now married to that billionaire inventor.

His name is Tony Stark.

I don’t know if I like him or not.

“You alright, champ?”

Tony’s voice, unmistakable, snapped you out of your daze. His hand rested comfortably on your knee—as if that was right where it belonged—his thumb gently brushing back and forth against it. You tried your best to get comfortable, leaning into him even though your intuition was screaming at you to move away. The windows of the car were tinted, but you still couldn’t escape the feeling that you were being closely monitored. His body language around you was too familiar for your liking; too familiar for someone so unfamiliar.

But that was just it.

He wasn’t unfamiliar.

Based on a quick google search, Tony Stark was anything but a stranger to you. You lost count of how many times you were pictured together. Laughing at Lakers games, talking business on yachts (or rather, you appeared to be talking business—always with a laptop in hand, brow furrowed in concentration while Tony lay sprawled out on a lounge chair, looking disheveled), boarding and disembarking private jets together. The list went on and on.

He was your husband, after all. Prior to that, he was your boss—and he would remain your boss, even after you got married. Apparently you had fallen in love with him early on in your employment, dropping out of MIT to work for him around the clock. At least, that was what he told you.

The framed degree at the bottom of your office filing cabinet would beg to differ.

You stared at him intently as the car rolled through the city. He was taking you on a trip to Cabo this week, what he characterized as a much needed getaway. He told you that you had been to Cabo a handful of times before. You knew this to be true; at least, judging by the photos you found of yourself online, looking stressed as ever on the beach. In all the photos you discovered, you couldn’t help but wonder why you always looked so worn down.

What was a billionaire’s wife so worried about?

You were perplexed by your relationship. You didn’t know what kind of person you were before, but you couldn’t imagine she was that far off from who you were now. Tony Stark was not the kind of person you could picture yourself being friendly towards, much less being in a relationship with. He was certainly charismatic, but along with that came narcissism.

Why would you ever marry a narcissist? More importantly, why would you marry a narcissist that was nearly twice your age?

You cleared your throat and smiled weakly at him. “I’m fine.”

He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Nervous?” he asked. His eyes were warm. Affectionate. He had his moments—moments of kindness, gentleness. You liked him best that way. Surprisingly, Tony could be very caring when he wanted to be.

“Why would I be nervous?” you asked. “Should I be?”

“You were always such a scaredy cat about flying.”

“I was?”

He chuckled as he reached down to hold your hand. You hadn’t even realized you were shaking. “The mind-body connection is a real bitch, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling weakly. “If only I could pick and choose what I remembered.”

“And what you didn’t.”

You were both silent for a few moments, long enough that he had the opportunity to lean in for a kiss.

“I found my degree today,” you blurted out abruptly.

Tony’s eyes widened. Gone just as quickly as it came, you couldn’t help but notice it—a flicker of panic. But as always when faced with the unexpected, he recovered quickly.

“Did you?” he asked. His tone was nonchalant as he began toying with his rings. He cleared his throat. “Where’d you find it?”

“In my office, in the filing cabinet. I thought I dropped out.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You graduated, alright. I was there.”

“You came to my graduation?”

He pushed his glasses down the bridge of his nose, staring at you as if you’d just said something utterly ridiculous.

“Sweetheart, really? Of course I came to your graduation.” He pinched your cheek, chuckling when you pushed his hand away. “Summa cum laude.”

“But you said I—”

“My little scholar.”

“But you told me that I dropped out of MIT!” Your voice came out louder than intended, but you were growing tired of repeating yourself. And you hated the way he was looking at you, like you caught him off guard—not because he was lying to you, but because you were being irrational.

Hated it.

“Honey, why on earth would I tell you that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He reached over and ran his knuckles along your jawline, sighing to himself. “You haven’t been sleeping enough.” You turned away from his touch, but he simply refocused his attention elsewhere, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You remember what the doctors said about sleep. Gotta keep those neurons functioning well. Otherwise, you—”

You turned back towards him and grabbed onto his wrist, making direct eye contact with him. You were so close you could see the little flecks of hazel in his eyes. “Enough about the neurons!”

“Jesus. Alright,” he said, prying your fingers off of his wrist, setting your arm back down at your side. “No more neuron talk. Anything neuron-related will be off limits this trip.”

“Why would you lie to me?”

“Intriguing question,” he said, yawning. “Or rather, intriguing accusation.”

“Tony—“

“But it’s a trick question.” His gaze shifted back to you, clearly irritated. “Because I wouldn’t.”

You were at a loss for words. You could’ve sworn Tony told you that you dropped out of MIT. You had memory loss, sure. But what you knew to be true, you knew to be true. He had said it to you multiple times. You couldn’t have just made that up. “I…”

“Head injuries are tricky. You’re gonna mix things up sometimes. But that explanation would just make way too much sense for you, wouldn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t trust me,” he snapped. “You haven’t trusted me since you woke up from that seizure. And for whatever goddamn reason, you’re looking for any and every excuse—fictitious or not—to prove that I can’t be trusted. You never dropped out of MIT, and I never told you that you dropped out of MIT. Alright?”

You were both quiet for a few moments, as if in a standoff. Tony caved first. He always caved first. He sighed, his eyes softening.

“I get it, ‘kay? I can’t imagine how disorienting and confusing this all is for you. But it’s hard for me, too. Before you hit your head, we were like…”

“Like what?”

“Different. We were different.”

“Different how?”

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” you asked, tilting your head to one side. “Well then, that makes two of us.”

He chuckled. “Look, if this is going to work—and it will—you’re going to have to trust me a little. Do you think you can do that; put your faith in little old me? You know, your husband.”

“I suppose so.”

“Why are you so suspicious of me, anyway?”

You leaned your head back against the seat. “I’m sorry. I’m being dumb. Of course I trust you.”

Tony wouldn’t lie to you. Why would he?

Why would he lie?

⚙️

I originally wrote this as a oneshot, and now I've made it into a series. Chapter 3 coming soon ♥️ (I tagged a couple of you who mentioned you might want to read this if it becomes a series)

@alessandraavengers @couldntbedamned

[lasouge]

Soulmate

Itoshi sae x fem.Reader

——————————————

●summary:

From a young age, Sae had a sentence on his arm, and it would be the first thing his soulmate will said to him.

But it has been bothering him for many years.

Because the sentence is "Shidou, I've always admired your ......"

What the fuck is this？

This seems to be the opening sentence before the confession, but,

And Who is the fuck Shidou ?

——————————————

● English is not my native language, there may be grammar issues

————————————————

The words on Sae's arm were something he hated.

It always has been.

First of all, Sae was sure that he would never change his name to something as ugly as Shidou.

Sae is his name.

Well, otherwise, his soulmate will confess to others, and in front of him

Otherwise, he and his soulmate won't be together.

Anyway, let this Shidou and these things go to hell!

It's as if God was playing a joke on him.

He wouldn't easily show his damn arm in front of everyone.

(Except for one time when he undressed in the locker room, but he quickly covered his arms indifferently.)

The sentence was on his arm, like a damn tattoo, and maybe someone would misunderstand, because it was like some teenager's stupid declaration.

And he didn't know any damn Shidou at all

Before the age of eighteen, he had never hated someone he had never met so much.

And, does his soulmate really prefer someone else?

Choose this Shidou?

Shidou？ It sounds quite foolish

Moreover, only after seeing soulmates, will the words on the arm completely disappear.

He had be in a bad mood. He often has a bad temper, he is often sarcastic, cold to people, and expressionless,

but he can't be blamed, as soon as he shows his arms and then looks down to see it, his patience for the day can easily be lost.

Then he met the real Shidou Ryusei. SAE picked him for a team, and a large part of that was why.

Sae thought expressionlessly,

That's it? Is this premature ejaculation demon? It's just as stupid as he thought.

His future soulmate would choose this person instead of him.

Unbelievable

Later he teamed up with this guy to compete,

If don't talk about personal grievances, this person's ability to compete is good.

When it comes to competition, everyone needs to put their personal feelings aside and concentrate on it.

Sae could consider continuing to team up with him.

But Sae still hated him.

HE DON'T want to have any close contact with him.

Shidou didn't know why, of course. Because Sae has hated his name for many years and has been conditioned.

——————

You don't know much about football. You're coming to see the game with your older brother.

Your brother is obviously more excited than you are, and he loves these sports. And the players he supports just won.

You look at your brother cheering.

Well, sometimes he took you with him to watch the game, you're used to it.

In Your family, your uncle, dad, and brother all have their own teams to support. They also argued because of the different teams they support.

You sit a little bit at the front, and these seats were managed by your brother with great difficulty. The audience is very large, and the shouts fill your ears.

Your brother was visibly excited, "I said, they're going to win!" We're going to get autographs! Look, we're sitting very far forward! ”

He's talking about player Oliver Aiku, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae...

but you don't know these players. It's just that your family members are fanatical.

————————

"I don't know what to say! I haven't spoken to a football player! "You complained to your brother.

Your brother pulls you to the front to get autographs, and you've never been up close to the players before.

Your brother tells you to just praise them and get them to sign your clothes.

Sign it on the clothes, oh my God, it's so embarrassing.

Thankfully, you wore long sleeves today to get them to write on your sleeves.

You're pretty sure your brother will collect these clothes……

The fans around you are so enthusiastic that they are yelling, waving their arms and greeting the team that comes their way.

Oliver Aiku high-fived them and signed them with lipstick.

You hear the fans start calling Shidou's name, so you squeeze in.

"Player shidou, I've been... I've always admired your ...... character and ability..."

Oh, what are you talking about? Forget it, complete your brother's mission! Then go home!

"Please... Can you give us a signature? Thank you. ”

yes, give my brother the damn autograph he wants!

You huddle in the crowd and smile.

But the person in front of you is not Shidou, you glance at the name on the jersey:

Itoshi Sae.

All right...Your smile freezes.

“I'm Sorry……”

His green eyes are cold, and he looks at you with a blank face.

It's a shame. You don't dare to look at the athlete's face.

Sae frowned slightly, he heard that. Yes.

He looks at you, his ...... Soul mates?

So all this was a misunderstanding, and that sentence was just a misunderstanding, not what he thought？

Is the meeting with your soulmate so sudden? Apparently.

Heaven is too good at joking

And you, he looks at you,

You look overwhelmed and a little nervous, as if you want to explain something.

Your body stiffens,

You're squeezed by the crowd a bit,

You stumble on the ground in front of Sae standing, and will felk next to his sneakers.

All you think about is that you're going to have to lose face a second time in front of Itoshi Sae. No.

You won't agree to go to a game with your brother again. Never

But,

Before you can touch the ground, Sae reaches out to catch you.

You were pulled into his arms

Itoshi Sae hugs a girl! A girl in the audience!

So your brother opens his mouth wide, and the camera points here, and his teammates exclaim.

But sae didn't care.

You like a butterfly, pounce into his arms and land on his fingertips with a slight floral scent.

He can smell the light scent in your hair.

His soulmate

You're blushing.

You're obviously not used to being the center of attention. You apologize to him, you want to go back to your brother, and you don't care about signing autographs

But his hand is still grasping your arm and not letting go.

“Player Itoshi ？……” You look at him, a little confused.

Your brother is completely shocked, Sae's teammates are heckling again, and reporters can't wait to ask questions.

But everything around him is far away from him, and he just looks at you

Although his emotional control ability is top-notch, his heart now is not at all, he knows it.

Although he still looks cold on the surface, he knows that he wants to hold you in his arms again and feel this feeling again.

He was not used to this new emotion, not at all.

He took a breath, his tone the same as usual

"Do you know you've been bothering me for a long time?"

yes, how bothered him you were.

And not only because of the words on his arm . He is still messing with his heart in a new way.

He knew that his heart could not be so calm again.When see you.

even though his expression is as calm as ever.

But you open your eyes wide and say "what the hell?!" ”

You show your arm and It says "Do you know you've been bothering me for a long time?" ”

He's your soulmate?!

Well, it seems that this sentence is also bad on your arm and may have tormented you for many years as well.

It seems that you have been fair to each other.

You look at Sae seriously this time, it turns out that he is that person.

In the past, when you looked at the words on your arm, you always thought that you would be hated or rejected by your soulmate, and you would be sad when you thought about it.

You're glad it's not what you thought it was. But...

Your brother suddenly said loudly, "You are soul mates?!" He was so surprised that he accidentally blurted out.

You want to cover his mouth, but by the time you realize it, the reporters are already around. You wince, you're really not used to this kind of situation, you and your brother are a little overwhelmed.

Sae is young and a good player, and even if you don't know football, you know him as one of the New worlds' 11.

The news on the phone seems to mention that he is suspected of having a beautiful model girlfriend in a relationship, although you don't know if it's true.

Maybe he will reject you, too.

And in front of countless people, isn't that worse than you think before…

The cameras flickered, and the reporters kept asking all kinds of questions. You have to twist your face to the side, you don't want to be photographed.

"Sae, will she be your new girlfriend?"

"How's your last relationship?

Is she really your soulmate? How do you want to choose? ”

……

You keep your head down, but you feel someone pull you into his arms.

Sae hugs you and presses your face into his arms to keep your front from being photographed more.

You were caught off guard.

Your face is almost as red as his hair color.

Your face is against his jersey, and you smell him deeply, the smell of dry sweat, and the faint scent of his body.

Your eyes are wide open and your limbs are stiff.

You hear him say, "She is.

“ Is my soul mate"

"I've never had anyone else, and I don't have to make any choices."

He said he never had anyone else.

Only you are the imprint of each other's souls.

One day you'll be around each other, like this.

Even if you are caught off guard.

Yes, you will not choose someone else, and he will also not choose someone else

You look up at Sae's green eyes, your eyes are full of surprise . He looks at you, and there is a softness in his cold eyes.

He and his soulmate are destined to embrace each other in the spotlight.

The words on arms disappeared, but the soulmates finally found each other

————————————————

Your brother: Great, so can we sit in the family seats to watch the game from now on? The view must be good.

————————————

[fandoms-x-reader]

Replay - Alternate Ending

Requested By: Multiple Users! Thank you for the support <3

Summary: No matter how hard you try to save your friends, death is unavoidable and in order to save you friends, you make the ultimate sacrifice. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon & Solomon Luke (platonically), Mephisto, Raphael & Thirteen Word Count: 4,094

^Inspiration for this oneshot! Shoutout to @olivia-willo-w for sending it to me <3^

Time after time you watched everyone you loved pass.

Time after time they promised you they would survive.

Time after time you tried to protect them and failed.

You had lost hope that things would ever be different.

You loved everyone, but you didn’t want to live through this again. You couldn’t live through this again. 

You had all put up a valiant effort. You had fought harder than you ever had before.

Not a single person there was unscathed. You were all bloody and in pain. You were exhausted, but it wasn’t over.

And you were beginning to think it would never be over. You had to do something - anything - to end the war you had been fighting for so long now.

You took a moment on the battlefield to pause and look around.

That’s when you saw your chance. An opening to end things once and for all.

It would surely result in your death. After all, you were only a human and what you were about to do was something that no one would be able to survive.

But, as you looked at your friends, memories began flashing through your mind.

You remembered the first time you danced with Lucifer - how tightly he held your hand as he all but threatened you. You and he had come such a long way from that. Now, your time together was filled with his favorite tea and long and loving talks. 

You remembered how Mammon hated the fact that he had to babysit you when you first got to the Devildom. Now, he never wanted to be away from you. The two of you were partners in crime, like Bonnie and Clyde.

Levi never even opened the door to his bedroom for you at first. He hated normies and you were sure you would never be able to change his mind. And when you did, you had a true friend that you knew that you could always depend on. 

And Satan had been so angry all of the time before he met you. He didn’t give you the time of day at first until your trip up to the human world. Now, you’re the only one who can get through to him and the only one he’s ever felt so connected to.

Asmo was so shallow when you first met him. You were so positive the only thing he cared about was his appearance. But, after making a pact with him you could see how beautiful he was underneath it all and he always made sure you felt loved.

Beel had never had any problem with you - except for that one time you ate his food and he destroyed the kitchen. But, the two of you had grown so much closer nonetheless. He was your number-one supporter and always gave the best hugs.

And let’s not even mention what happened between you and Belphie. The two of you had come a very long way from that time. He was your cuddle buddy now and someone who was surprisingly good at being able to comfort you.

Then there was the future King of the Devildom. At first, you were simply a way for him to achieve his goal. He never thought he would have fallen for you as hard as he did and you never would have thought there was such a kind and caring personality behind the ruler of Hell.

You and Barbatos hadn’t grown closer until later, but he was just as important to you as the others. He was always there to offer you advice and if you ever needed any help you knew that he was only a phone call away.

Then there were the angels. Sweet and innocent Luke who only wanted to protect you and Simeon would give up his life for you in an instant. They were the nicest creatures you had ever met and you couldn’t imagine your life without them.

Lastly, there was Solomon. Your fellow human who had been with you since the start of this journey. He did everything he could to emotionally support and connect with you in a way only humans could and he was the reason you knew how to do any magic at all.

Even Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen held a special place in your heart. They were such amazing and unique people. You hated losing them just as much as you hated losing any of the others.

They all had equal pieces of your heart and you knew that if you did this - even if it killed you - it would be worth it. Because you would be saving them. The ones you held so close to you.

And it was that thought alone that pushed your legs to move on their own.

Your mind blanked out any fear as you kept your friends at the forefront of your mind.

You heard an array of protests being thrown your way as fifteen hearts simultaneously stopped beating, watching the scene in front of them unfold. 

They were all busy fighting their own enemies, doing what they could to stay alive.

So, none of them noticed what you were doing until it was too late for them to reach you.

He was saying something but you couldn’t hear it.

In a matter of moments, you felt the most intense pain you had ever felt, and then you felt nothing.

You were numb. You wouldn’t have even known you were still alive if it hadn’t been for Mammon coming into your view.

He was crying and you wanted to reach up and wipe his tears away, but you couldn’t move.

And as your vision started to fade you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked even when he was crying.

That was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

*

Lucifer was doing everything in his power to protect everyone. His eyes were looking a million places at once, determined not to lose any of his siblings or friends.

That’s when he saw you running. His eyebrows knitted in confusion as he tried to figure out where you were going.

When he saw where you were headed, he felt like he couldn’t breathe as all of his senses went numb. What were you thinking?!

Lucifer let out a shout of protest that grabbed everyone’s attention and he quickly took care of his current problem before making his way to you.

But he was too late and as he saw your body falling to the ground, he felt his world falling down with you. 

His body stopped moving on its own, frozen in shock and pain as he watched the one he loved get struck down.

And before he could register what was happening, tears began streaming down his face and it felt harder and harder to breathe.

His hands moved to hold his head as the tears began pouring out harder and he bit his lip to hold back a sob that was threatening to escape.

 This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t leave him.

*

Mammon was fighting just as valiantly as his older brother. He was doing everything he could to stay focused and not put himself in danger - for your sake.

But when he heard Lucifer yell, every inch of his body shifted its focus to you. And when he saw what you were doing, he immediately ran to you to stop you.

He was the fastest so of course he would be the first one to reach you. But, even he was too late.

He got there only in time to catch your body and as he looked into your eyes and saw the life draining out of them, the tears naturally began pouring down his cheeks.

He laid you down on the ground and pleaded with you to stay with him but he could tell that you couldn’t hear him and it was all the more heartbreaking. 

Mammon’s body went into panic mode as he was doing everything he could to help you yet nothing at the same time. Because you were already gone. 

He felt like hyperventilating as the harsh reality came crashing down on him. You were gone. 

He suddenly found himself standing back up, taking a few steps backward as he tried to breathe, but the only thing he could do was sob.

His hands rested on his knees and he did everything he could to support himself as he mourned your loss. 

You were his partner in crime. There is no him if there is no you. 

*

This was the first time Levi had a chance to use his power in its full glory since his days in the Celestial Realm. And, he was the third-most powerful for a reason.

He was fighting with everything he had, finally getting a chance to prove to everyone that he wasn’t a waste.

And for the first time in a long time, he was feeling really good about himself - until he saw what you were doing.

Levi let out a loud gasp as suddenly every ounce of confidence he was getting back fled his body.

He froze, unable to say or do anything as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. This couldn’t be happening.

When you fell to the ground, the sobs broke from Levi’s lips as the tears streamed down his face with no sign of stopping.

One of his hands raised to his forehead as the pain he felt in his chest only grew worse and worse.

He wanted to blame himself for being good enough. He wanted to apologize to everyone for not being able to save you. 

But, all he could do was mourn.

*

When the Avatar of Wrath goes into a frenzy, it was hard to pull him out of it. And that was exactly what Satan was in right now.

In order to achieve the level he needed to make sure he survived, he had to block everything out except for his anger. For once, he let his sin take over and run rampant. 

He would survive - for you.

But, his brother's cries pulled him out of the state he was in and as he started seeing clearly, he wished he couldn’t see at all.

He saw the tears falling down his brothers’ cheeks and then he saw your body lying on the ground and his blood ran cold.

He immediately ran over to you. He studied everything he could about humans, so surely there was something he could do to help. 

When he finally reached you, his hands reached everywhere he could attempting to help but not knowing where to start. 

Finally, he decided to start with the most obvious place - checking your pulse. 

His world stopped as he realized he couldn’t feel it. 

The tears began pouring just as heavily down his cheeks as his brothers and his hand moved to his mouth to cover the sobs that he couldn’t keep in as he looked at your dead body.

You were gone.

*

For once, Asmo had thrown all worries about his beauty out the window because he knew that if he was worried about chipping a nail or ruining his hair, he wouldn’t make it.

And he couldn’t do that to you. He had so much more love to give you. He had so many more ways to show you that love.

He was going to make sure that he got that chance. All he had to do was survive like he promised you.

Everything changed when he saw you get struck down. 

He immediately let out a cry of heartbreak and pain as he watched it happen.

One of his hands raised to his cheek while the other rose to his mouth, as his body was overcome with sobs.

And that’s when he realized - you didn’t promise him.

He told you that you were everything he had ever wanted. He told you that he wasn’t done loving you.

So, why didn’t you promise him that you would survive too?

*

Going into this, Beel had been so scared that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his role as the protector of the family.

He had been so scared that he was going to lose one of his siblings like in the last war that they fought together.

But, everyone was still alive and it sent a wave of relief through Beel. He knew that they still had a long fight ahead of them, but seeing everyone still alive gave him hope.

And then you went and sacrificed yourself for them.

Beel felt his heart rip apart as he saw you get struck.

He ran to you as fast as he could but stopped before he reached you, seeing you lying lifeless on the ground. 

His body felt like it was going into shock as he realized his worst fear was coming true and his head fell to his hand as the tears flooded down his cheeks.

The night that the two of you spent together, he told you that he would always protect you. And he failed.

You were gone and he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Like he should have done more.

He was so, so sorry for not protecting you.

*

For the most part, Belphie was following the others’ lead on the battlefield.

It wasn’t because he needed help. He was doing an excellent job of holding his own.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t mess up. He wanted to make sure everyone made it out of there.

He thought they had done it this time. He thought he did a good job. And then he saw you.

Seeing you on the ground gave Belphie a panic attack as memories of the time he hurt you overwhelmed him. He would take it all back if he could.

He had already apologized for it and you had already forgiven him. But seeing you die made him feel guilty all over again.

One of his hands raised to cover his face as he freely cried, expressing all of his pain.

He didn’t have a chance to really make things up to you yet. He didn’t have a chance to show you how much he loved you yet.

And the realization that he wouldn’t get that chance broke him.

*

Diavolo was the type of person where if he was going to go out - he was going to out swinging. And he was fully prepared to lay down his life for everyone else if it got to that point.

What he was not prepared for was for you to do that for everyone. 

He knew you loved them all but he never would have thought that your feelings were strong enough to compel you to do this.

If you had told him that he would have felt this much pain at your loss when he first met you, Diavolo would have never believed it.

But he had fallen so hard for you and now the idea of living without you was too much to bear. 

He was supposed to stay strong under any circumstances, but losing the one he loved was too much.

He turned his back to the others as he crumbled, not wanting them to see him fall apart.

As the tears poured down his cheeks and he silently sobbed, he kept asking himself why you did it.

Couldn’t you see how much they all needed you?

*

Barbatos had refused to use his powers to look into the future. He knew that it didn’t always end well and he was afraid of the consequences.

He had never regretted a decision so much in his entire life.

If he had looked ahead, he would have seen this. He would have been able to stop you from doing this. 

And you would be standing next to them, giving them the smile that melted all of their hearts instead of lying lifeless on the ground.

He was a demon with unparalleled power and he was so angry with himself because he could have done something. He could have prevented this outcome.

Tears silently poured down his cheeks as he looked at you - the result of his failure.

But it wouldn’t be this way for long. He was going to find a way to fix this mistake. 

He was going to find a way to bring you back.

*

Luke was mourning the loss of the closest thing he had to a best friend. You had defended him and protected him in the Devildom even though he was an angel and you were only a human. 

Simeon and Luke were mourning together but for two very different reasons.

You always brought a smile to his face and you always included him and it was something he would always appreciate. There weren’t enough words to show his appreciation and adoration for you.

Simeon was mourning the loss of the love of his life. You were the only person who had ever elicited such strong feelings from him. You had shown him what love was and he had every intention of showing you his love in return.

You made him feel alive - you made him feel free. And all he wanted was an opportunity to express how deeply he was in love with you.

He wanted to love you until the end of his days.

He never thought this was how it would end.

He would have laid down his life for you - if only he had gotten to you sooner. He could saved you. 

Both angels wished with all their hearts that they could bring you back to life. But if they couldn’t do that then they would scour all three worlds for a way to see you again.

You would not be gone from them forever.

*

Solomon was too stunned to move. He felt lost, unsure of how you all reached this point.

One second you were fighting alongside him and the next second you were lying dead on the ground.

When you first told Solomon that he had died, he realized that of all the things he had done in his long life, he had never had a true love. 

You were supposed to be that love. 

He had told you that he would love you forever and he meant it.

He made a plan for if things didn’t go his way. He had a plan if he ended up dying.

But he didn’t have a plan for if you died. He didn’t even think it was a possibility.

And yet here he was, standing over your lifeless body as tears ran down his cheeks.

He would not stand for this. This was not going to be permanent. 

He didn’t care if he had to sell his soul.

He would bring you back.

*

Mephisto wasn’t nearly as close to you as the others. He didn’t have as much time to spend with you and didn’t get a chance to know on as deep a level.

And yet, he still found tears falling down his cheeks at your loss.

He was a proud demon, always looking the best and being the best.

But, right now, his pride was the furthest thing from his mind, replaced with grief.

He never thought he would feel this way, but as he saw you lying lifeless on the ground, he couldn’t help but feel sad - because he was going to miss you. 

He wanted to laugh at the word. There was no way that you - a mere human - had grabbed such a strong hold over his heart.

But as he felt the pain of losing you, he knew it was true. 

He had fallen for you just as hard as the others had.

*

Raphael was unsure what he was supposed to do.

He had stopped moving just as the others had when you were struck down and his heart stopped beating just like theirs did.

He was just starting to really get to know you. He was just starting to understand why you had everyone wrapped around your finger.

And now you were leaving them? 

As everyone broke down around him, the strong and stoic archangel began to break down as well, feeling the pain of everyone else and his own pain of losing a friend.

He had come to the Devildom to fight alongside everyone else because he didn’t want anyone to die.

But he never believed he would feel so strongly about losing you.

There had to be something he could do.

*

Thirteen didn’t make friends.

And yet the people surrounding her were the closest she had ever come to caring. The closest she had ever come to having friends.

And you were the reason. You were so kind and accepting of her. You were so inclusive and you made her want to be there.

You had brought her into the group and now that you were gone, Thirteen felt the pain of what it meant to have people you cared about. 

Part of her wanted to cry and fall apart like everyone else was. 

But, she had a job to do. She was a reaper and you were dead. 

She hated the idea of it. She wished she didn’t have to do it.

She wished you weren’t gone.

*

Thirteen took a few steps forward to do her job when she felt a strong hand wrap around her wrist.

She turned to see who it was and saw that it was Solomon. He kept his hand in place as he looked at her through his tears, giving her a stern look.

Solomon was the first one she had met, and seeing him so broken sparked sympathy she didn’t know she had.

“You’re not reaping their soul,” Solomon stated, his eyes locked with hers.

“Solomon,” Thirteen tried to argued, but he cut her off.

“You’re not reaping their soul,” he repeated, not backing down.

The others watched the intense stare between the two as the thought of Thirteen reaping your soul only made them sadder.

Thirteen was trying to be nice because she knew how much Solomon cared for you - how much everyone cared for you. But it needed to happen.

“Solomon is right,” Barbatos said, stepping closer to your body, his heartbreaking all over again when he looked at you once more.

Thirteen let out a small sigh, ready to argue her point when she saw the look in Barbatos’ eyes.

He was done playing safe with his powers. He didn’t care what the consequences were. He just knew he needed you. 

They all needed you.

“What are you doing?” Lucifer asked, taking a step forward.

“I’m restarting the timeline,” Barbatos replied. It wasn’t a suggestion - it was a statement.

You had done it so many times to save them and now he was going to do it to save you.

He didn’t care what anyone else’s opinion on the matter was. Though everyone was in agreeance.

This was the way to save you. This was the way to bring you back to them.

They didn’t care if they were stuck in an endless time loop as long as you were there with them.

This time they would have their memories. This time they would make a plan to prevent this war from even happening. 

Barbatos restarted the timeline without a second thought and as their surroundings began to change, your corpse was the last thing to fade from view.

And when things stabilized they realized that they were in the Assembly Hall with a human standing in front of them.

They wanted to run to you. They wanted to hold you in their arms and never let you go.

The smiles they got when they saw you would have melted your heart - if you knew who they were.

“Where am I?” you asked, looking scared and confused. 

It hurt to hold so much love for you and have you not reciprocate an ounce of it. But they knew you had been through this so many times with them and you never gave up. And they wouldn’t either.

They would fall in love with you a hundred times over and make you fall in love with them a hundred times over.

They didn’t care how long it took or how many times they had to relive the same memories. 

You were their human. You were the one they loved. You were everything they needed.

And that would never change whether it be this timeline, the next, or a hundred timelines from now.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Cassian: Drowning

tw: descriptions of my own panic attacks. all symptoms are different for other people but this is mine so pls be kind.

It was a normal night in bed.

Your husband, Cassian was asleep, mouth open as loud snores echoed throughout the cozy bedroom. You were feeling fine, just waiting to succumb to sleep.

Then you felt anxiety pick up. The thump thump thump of your heart racing. You could feel yourself starting to spiral. About what? You didn’t quite know. You just felt like you should be panicking about something and your brain was racking through all of your tasks to figure out what.

And it just couldn’t find anything.

Which then unsettled your mind, as you worried you had forgotten something important. You had trouble trusting your own memory as your anxiety and panic disorder makes a person more forgetful.

So you got up, left your snoring husband, and began checking the house.

Doors and windows were locked.

Stove is turned off. Weapons put away.

What was sending you into this episode?

You could feel the hyperventilating beginning. Shortness of breath, dizziness, tears cresting over your waterline.

Your brain began fogging up even more. You sat down on the floor. not quite sure which part of the house you were in.

Lost at sea. That’s how you felt. The waves crashing over you, drowning you in the vastness that is the ocean.

You didn’t know how long you sat there curled into a ball, until like a siren cutting through the stormy night, you heard:

“Hey, baby.” Cassian's voice was like a beacon, cutting through the fog and leading you to him.

He pulled your hands out of your hair, you didn’t even realize you were pulling. “What’s going on?”

You incoherently babbled. Your mouth feels gummy and thick. Like your tongue was weighed down with lead.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He sat next to you, threading your fingers through his own big hand as his other one wiped the sweat-licked hair from your face.

“Match my breathing, baby.”

As you began to breathe thoroughly, your lungs shook, as you took in air. Making you sound like your breathing is stuttering. The sniffles subsided, but your heart was trying to slow down. You clutched Cassian's hand to your chest and he looked wounded at the thought of you hurting.

Because he couldn’t fight this. He couldn’t protect you from this.

You set your chin against his hand, looking down towards your pulled up legs. Your wet chin, sticky with tears taking in the coolness of his hands. Holding his hand like a life line, you felt his lips brush your forehead.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re not going to die from this.” He knew that a saying of comfort of yours was “You are not going to die from this.”

After what felt like an hour, you just wanted to crawl into your man’s chest. You definitely were not letting go of his hand anytime soon.

He eventually pulled you up, his hand never leaving yours. Even as he poured you a glass of water and guided you back to bed.

One hand of yours was intertwined with his, while the other clutched his forearm. Your head leaning against his bicep as he brought you back to your room.

He got you tucked in, the window was open to let the cool night air in. He went into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth and used cold water to wipe your face down. He knew coldness was going to be the last bit of soothing you needed.

He wiped your face down with a thoroughness and gentle touch that made you want to cry for a whole new reason.

You sipped your water as he threw the rag into the sink and joined you in bed again.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged. “I…” you shook your head. “I don't even know where to begin. It’s foolish.”

“Hey.” He said sternly, though not unkindly. “Your panic attacks, anxiety and thoughts are valid. You are the strongest person I know. I’m here if you want to talk. And I'm here if you don’t.”

You sniffled. “I just feel like something should be wrong. And I’m worried I’m forgetting something. Everything’s going too well, I’m waiting for something to go to shit and I’m scared for what it will be.”

He paused, then pulled you into him. Your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Nothing is wrong. You are not forgetting anything. You are happy. You are loved and supported. Nothing bad is going to happen because your life is going good.”

He kissed the top of your head. You wrapped an arm around him and squeezed.

“Thank you for dealing with me.”

“Nothing to be ‘dealt’ with.” He said instantly. As if he didn’t need to think about the response. Because he didn’t feel like he had to deal with you.

“I’m honored to be the person to take care of you and help you. I’m honored for you to be that person for me. Nothing is going to chase me away. I’m here to stay.” He squeezed you just as tight. “I'd lose my mind without you.”

You sucked in a breath. Inhaling his comforting scent. The scent that is wholly his.

“I love you.” You whispered into the dark of the night.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered back.

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

Seeing your post about toxic doomed Yuri burgertron/spudmuffin changed my brainwaves. I read it and was like woahhh they ARE toxic doomed Yuri

there is a top 10 messiest breakups botvid and spud / burgertron are in the #1 spot and i will not be considering otherwise. they could have been THE power v-shaped polycule with ulf but fate aligned their destinies and it was not written in the stars . pouring one out for the combo meal of all time 😔✊

[jewishcissiekj]

Quinobi *cries*

[lunarsapphism]

.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

waittttttt hang on. what if i wrote. a trimax oneshot abt vash and livio. what then. hmm. what then