#It’s been a stressful day today I can’t deal with this as the first thing I open on tumblr 💀🙏

[lorax-devito]

NAH BC ITS GONNA BE THE EDDIE SITUATION ALL OVER AGAIN IM SO TERRIFIED FOR S5 YOU HAVE NO IDEA ITS GONNA BE GREAT IN MY LITTLE TUMBLR BUBBLE BU THE OUTSIDE WORLD WILL BE HYPED AND THE HOMOPHOBIA AND THEN WHEN THE HYPE DIES DOWN AND JUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

And theyre gonna be even more sick of them when S5 comes out and they’re canon YES LORD

OP said they are joking but all the comments aren't. Over here talking about "You may be joking but I'm not" like...

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @lavender-constellation

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! Means a whole lot <3 Hope you like it, it was super fun to write.

Request: Two Co workers in an office setting where they have to work closely together every day, one is a male!werewolf, the other is a fem!bunny girl that experiences heat. Bunnygirl is going through heat, trying to focus on the task and trying not to run to the bathroom to masturbate. Werewolf notices this, they have a convo about her being in heat, and werewolf offers to help her out. She almost says yes but says no and is afraid it would be unprofessional, he gets closer to her and rubs her clit and she relents for the chance at relief and to focus back on work. He fingers her and eats her out in her cubicle. Aaaaand more scenes of him “helping” her out until eventually they just start fucking at her apartment before work It becomes an at least twice a day thing for the duration of her heat, half the time in The cubicle half the time in his car, both trying to convince themselves it’s just so she can focus on work again,(though werewolf is a little smug about it) and the werewolf is just helping her out as a coworking favor, nothing more, but they’re both secretly catching feelings.

The key to productivity

Werewolf x fem!werebunny || heat, oral sex, fingering, knotting, semi-public sex, dub-con (kinda?)

You told your doctor you were feeling weird and the blood tests came back positive. You were going into heat, and your suppressants stopped working. He told you he could give you different ones, but you would have to ride at least two heats before that. You tried to argue that you couldn’t do it, you had to work, you had stuff to do… But there was no other way around it.

That’s how you find yourself in the middle of your stupidly boring desk job shift when the first wave hit. You think you are dealing okay with it, moving a bit more than normal, but everything is going as normally would. The world feels a bit off, but you convince yourself you can do it. Nobody has to know. You can ride the heat off and be okay after it. You can. You are a strong werebunny and you can get through that and more. Totally…

Surprisingly for anybody: you cannot.

Your cubicle coworker, a big werewolf that you might or might not have a crush on is the first one to notice. “Why are you so restless?” He asks in the middle of your day.

You turn your chair around and look at him trying to look confused as you deny it. “I- I’m not restless.” As you say it, you start feeling the blush creeping at your cheeks, your ears twitching.

“Yes, you are. And,” he sniffs the air, “aroused?” You blush harder. “Are you going into heat?” His tone is teasing and you want to kick that stupid grin off his face. “Can I help?” He grins at you, such a puppy gesture that you want to kiss his stupid snout as he shows you his canines.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused. There’s no way he’s offering what you think he’s offering, is it? There’s no way a big handsome werewolf like he wants you, a werebunny nobody. No way.

But to your surprise, he just rationalizes it. “We need to finish this project today, and we can’t if you keep being jumpy and stressed and clearly restless. Let me help. Smelling how wet you are I bet it won’t even take that long.” The way he says it like it meant nothing should have been offending, but instead it turns you on more, your pussy twitching over nothing as you whined low. You cover your mouth instantly, embarrassed. “Come on, it’s just sex between coworkers, just some friendly... helping out.” His tone is teasing but there’s a hint of heat under it.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you just because I smell…” You lower your tone, “like arousal.” You have to spit the last part out because you are so embarrassed you don’t even want to know how red your face is.

“I offered, remember? Also, you smell fucking delicious, I could eat you whole.” His confession makes you want to squirm, your brain sending alarm bells because of butterflies taking flight inside your tummy, but you ignore them. “Is that a yes? Can I touch your wet pussy?” His smirk is even more teasing now, and your pussy twitches again, your clit demanding attention.

You blush as you ask: “Why do you need to be so… crude?” His words are turning you on but you don’t want him to know that.

He smirks bigger, all his teeth showing and making you squirm under his heated eyes. “You like it, I can smell the spike of arousal when I tell you dirty things.” He sniffs the air and makes a humming noise, like he’s savoring your smell.

“Yo- You can?” You choked out, surprised by that but also embarrassed about it.

“Yes, I can. Your smell turns sweeter when I talk about licking your clit and finger fucking your tight pussy.” You groaned at his words, his crudeness indeed doing it for you. Damn him for being so fucking hot and filthy. And damn you for finding it extra hot.

“Okay,” you whisper. “You can help me.” In the back of your brain, there’s a voice saying that is going to be a bad idea, but you ignore that too, the voice that tells you to let him fuck you senseless is a lot louder.

“Hell yeah!” His enthusiasm shocks you, but you don’t have time to say anything. “Come here.” He didn’t let you move your chair, he grabbed it and pulled, positioning it next to his across the cubicle. You groaned, the manhandling apparently doing it for you, too. Good goddess, why was everything he did so hot?

He parts your legs with a forceful pull, making you groan and cover your mouth with your hand, once again dying of embarrassment. He chuckles and goes for it. You were never so happy to have worn a skirt in your life. He doesn’t even take your panties off, he pulls them to the side and starts rubbing your clit like a pro.

You are muffling your sounds as he chuckles and keeps going, acting uninterested as you squirm under his ministrations. Not two seconds later he has a finger in your pussy as his thumb circles over your oversensitive clit. And then he adds a finger, and by the time he has three, not even a minute has passed. Your pussy is so eager to get his attention that it feels like it’s claiming him, like it doesn’t want to let him go. And you… You can’t deny how good it is, how fucking filthy it feels to be finger fucked in the middle of the work day, in your cubicle, by tour werewolf coworker who you might or might not have a crush on.

And when he leans down and whispers against your ear: “You smell so fucking sweet. Can’t wait to eat you out.” The way he just assumes that’s gonna happen it’s what does it. As soon as he says that, you are coming around his fingers. The dirtiness of the situation making you orgasm in less than two minutes, how embarrassing. When you come down from the high he looks at you and asks softly: “Do you feel better?” You nod, too shy to say something.

He gets back to work and so do you. And it does help, you feel a lot more focused for a couple hours. But after that you go back to being restless and needy, your pussy sensitive and your panties dripping wet. This time around he goes under the table and eats you out until you are panting against your hand and your chair is so wet you have to get tissues to clean it afterwards.

That continues for a couple days. It starts only in the cubicle, but soon turns into hourly toilet trips, he tails after you like an eager puppy. It shouldn’t make you so happy, but it does. He finger fucks you, sucks your clit and pinches your nipples. He learns every single erogenous zone in your body and plays you like a fine instrument.

Every. Single. Hour.

By the third day, he suggests following you home to help you out a bit more. He goes down on you for at least three hours, making humming noises as he enjoys himself. You try to return the favor, but he stops you, going down on you once again and grunting as he jerks off while at it. You can’t think of anything more erotic than him jerking himself off with his big paw as he eats you out until his face is shiny with your juices. Having him there… Like that… It’s driving you a bit insane.

It’s the day before your heat ends when you start feeling it worse than ever, the last spike of It making you feel restless and anxious. You won’t stop moving, your legs bouncing up and down non stop and making him look at you with concern in his eyes. He fingers you under your desk once again, making you come messily as his other hand rubs your nipples over your dress. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough.

He helps you out like that two more times before you start whining. It’s too much but not nearly enough, and his concerned face only grows and grows. You don’t know what to tell him, your forehead is sweaty and your pussy is so wet you can feel it sticking to your chair. It makes you feel disgusting, but you can’t do nothing but to roll your hips in an effort to relieve some pressure, without any luck.

“Let’s get out of here,” he tells you after hearing you sigh for the thousand times in ten minutes. His eyes on you only make the heat stronger, your pussy wetter.

You look at him, your eyes unfocused, brain fuzzy. “What?” You look at him scandalized. There’s no way he’s suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You need relief and I have a perfectly big car outside with tinted windows where I can knot you sweet pussy and get you more… focused.” You blush hard at his choice of words, your ears twitching at the top of your head. He’s right, you know he’s right, but you’ve never been knotted, what if…

“I’ve never been knotted,” you confess. He growls at you and you blush harder, the heat in his eyes turning molten lava when he looks down at you.

“That ends today.” He pulls at your arm and you try to suppress a giggle at his insistence. “Let’s go.”

Before you can think twice about it, or more like before your heat-fuzzy head lets you understand what’s fully happening, you are naked and spread in the back of his car. He pushes your legs against your chest, folding you almost completely and going right for your pussy. You’d never know somebody who enjoyed oral as much as him, good goddess does he love to eat pussy, specifically yours… And you can’t complain about it. He’s great at it and you are cumming before he has even two fingers inside your pussy.

When he comes back for air and looks up at you from between your legs, his face is all shiny with your juices and his perfect fucking smirk is showing all his canines, making a spark of danger grow inside of you and sending your arousal even higher.

“Please…” You beg in a broken moan, that’s the only word you can get out. Your heat-induced brain is completely off line seeing him like that, seeing him like the representation of lust and deprivacy. He’s your best wet dream turned into reality, and it’s driving you insane.

He seems to see something in your face because he’s suddenly smiling tenderly at you and unbuttoning his pants. “Okay, okay, I’ve got you.” His dick is so big, you’ve seen it before when he was jerking himself as he fingered you in the cubicle, but nothing could have prepared you for the feel of it.

He starts pushing inside slowly but surely, his dick so big you want to scream, but he covers your mouth before you can do it. He starts fucking you at a slow pace, letting you accommodate his girth, but it’s not enough. It feels like torture for you.

You urge him to go faster, harder, but it’s just a muffled moan against his palm. He seems to understand you either way, chuckling and complying. He fucks into you deep and hard, hitting your G-spot with every thrust and making your eyes roll back into your head as he grunts with every thrust.

“Are you ready?” You nod fervently, licking his hand and rolling your hips against his dick buried deep inside of you.

Your scream is muffled by his hand when the knot starts expanding in you. It’s exhilarating, way more than you expected. So big, so much, so wonderful… And then he starts coming in you and you feel every little twitch and spur of his come, making you dizzy with pleasure as you come and come and come… It feels like the longest and strongest orgasm of your life.

When the knot goes down and he helps you get back into your dress, slowly caressing your body while at it, you realize two things: 1) You could never live through a heat without a knot ever again, and 2) You might be a bit in love with your werewolf coworker.

Fuck.

Reminder that you can also commission me (info here).

[aliteralsemicolon]

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

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

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

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

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

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

11:57 PM

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

11:58 PM

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

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

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

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

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

11:59 PM

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

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

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

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

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

12:00 AM

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

12:31 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:56 AM

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

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

2:07 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3:42 PM. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Emily!” 

“Hey, how are you holding up?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4:03 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was off?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

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

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

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer’s POV

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

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

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

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

Your POV

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

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

2:17 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Emily asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

4:31 AM

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

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

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

“I’m not.” You persist. 

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

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

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

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

4:55 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?” You say after a second. 

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.” 

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

A Rarity

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You have a rare genetic code called heterochromia. You have two different colored eyes that you have tried to suppress ever since you got seriously bullied in middle school. Just when you're about to present a case, you find your contact case is missing.

Square Filled: friends with benefits (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Today is the day you start your new job as the team’s liaison. You’ve always been part of this since JJ was the main person to deal with it. However, she’s been promoted to profiler which means all the slack now falls on your shoulders. You love interacting with families and comforting them when they most need it.

This is the first case when it’s just going to be you, so you’re kind of nervous about it. Before going into the briefing room, you decide to touch up on your makeup and hair as if you’re going in front of millions on the TV to present the case. You take out your contacts and leave them to rehydrate on your desk while you go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

Once you’re done, you make sure not to look into anyone’s eyes as you make your way back to your desk. The first thing you do is put away your makeup. The second thing you do is grab your contacts to put them back in but they’re not where you left them.

“Shit,” you curse and go through your entire desk. “No, this isn’t happening.”

You’re panicking at the thought of not having your contacts. You don’t need them to see, in fact, you have 20/20 vision. No, you use them only for color because you have a rare thing called heterochromia. Your right eye is bright blue and your left is bright green. You were born with two different eye colors. No one in your family has this genetic but you, so you have no idea where it came from.

Ever since you were enrolled in school, you were bullied for your eyes. It didn’t start getting bad until middle school when kids were more focused on appearances than learning and making friends. Kids in elementary school actually found them to be cool but only because they were little kids who didn’t know any better.

Your peers made you hate this part of you even though you can’t do anything about it. As soon as you started high school, you begged your mom to get you colored contacts. You’ve been wearing them ever since even into your adult years. You choose a natural blue to make yourself look more normal. Had you not had those, you would for sure get bullied even worse than in middle school.

The longer you went wearing them the more people thought your eyes were just one color. No one at work knows about this or so you thought. The only person who might know about this is Spencer but that’s only because you two have been friends with benefits for quite some time now. It helps to have one to work off the stress from work. Plus, he’s an amazing lover so there’s a plus.

You two aren’t dating just fucking a lot.

While he was getting ready this morning at your place, you were in the bathroom rushing to do your makeup. You hadn’t put your contacts in just yet so if he were to walk in the bathroom, he’d see your eyes for what they truly are. He was getting ready and peeked through the open door to see if you were close to being done when he saw the beauty in your eyes. He didn’t say anything about it so as not to embarrass you.

He walks into the bullpen from the break room to see you panicking.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Where are my contacts? I just had them on my desk.”

“I didn’t know you wore contacts,” he lied. You refuse to look at him without them in. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. You have glasses, right?”

“Yes, but--”

“But what? What’s the problem?”

“Never mind,” you groan and continue looking for them.

“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t, he sets his coffee down on the desk and grabs your chin gently. He makes you look at him but you close your eyes so he doesn’t see their colors. “Open your eyes.”

“No,” you shake your head.

“Darling, open your eyes,” he says gently.

He would be the person to find out eventually. You sigh and open your eyes to show him the rarity you have. Now that he gets to see them up close, he’s falling more in love with you. You might not have feelings for him but he certainly has them for you. He only keeps you as a fuck buddy because if he were to tell you the truth, he might lose you.

“What beautiful eyes you have.”

“They’re ugly,” you sigh and pull away from him.

“Who told you that?”

“Everyone I’ve ever known,” you scoff. You look at your watch and notice the time. “Shit, I have to give the case out.”

“No one is going to notice.”

“Are you kidding me? They’re so bright. They stand out.”

“Fine, if they make comments, I’ll handle it.”

You have no choice but to go in there without your contacts. You sigh and grab your things before heading to the briefing room with Spencer. Everyone is already in there waiting so you immediately get started. As you’re talking, you notice Spencer watching you with a smile on his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he mouths to you.

Your cheeks heat up but you don’t let it show how happy he makes you. The briefing only lasts thirty minutes before Hotch announces wheels up. When everyone is packing up to get out of there, you notice something sticking out of Spencer’s back pocket. 

Your contact case. You want to be mad at him for taking it but maybe it’s time to let your rarity shine.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae! I love your work sm. I’m submitting a request because right now I’m dealing with some really crazy friend drama and while I’m mostly handling it okay it’s still a lot! Your fics bring me a lot of comfort- especially your James fics- and I was wondering if could do James comforting reader because of friend drama.

Totally okay if you can’t and thanks for listening either way!

<3 M

Thanks for requesting M, hope your drama is causing you a bit less stress these days! <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 838 words

“And when I asked her she said she wasn’t upset, but I could tell, you know?” You’re sitting with your hands trapped under your thighs on the kitchen counter and your back against the cabinets as James makes a sauce for your pasta on the stove. 

Your boyfriend makes a dissatisfied tsking sound. “Upset in general or upset with you?” 

“Upset with me,” you clarify, sighing. It’s been an exhausting afternoon. “She gets like this sometimes. She’s all huffy and snaps at me whenever I say anything, but if anyone brings it up she’ll say she’s fine. I don’t know why it always seems to be me.” 

James makes a sad face, kissing you on the cheek. “M’sorry, lovie. Then what happened?” 

“Then, we were just, you know.” Your fingers wiggle underneath your thighs, wanting to fidget with something, but you’d put them under there in the first place to keep from picking at your hangnail. It’s not unusual for you to come home from a hangout with your friends eager to gossip with James, but today’s weighing heavily on you. “We were just walking around, trying to find somewhere to eat. Everyone else was acting like everything was fine so I was trying to go with it, but any time I talked she’d snipe at me like I was being so annoying. And I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.

“After a while, one of the girls asked if she was alright, and she said she was, but then almost right after that I was talking to someone else and she got really pissed off with me—I don’t even remember what it was, honestly, something about me asking a dumb question—and I just—I completely snapped.”

James looks over at you, eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. You look down at your lap.

“I don’t know, I don’t think any of the things I said were wrong, but I feel—” Your voice tightens and thins, tears pressing at your eyes. “—really bad for raising my voice like that. And now she won’t speak to me.” 

“Oh,” James sets down his spoon, “baby.” 

“Uh oh,” you joke weakly. James only calls you baby when he’s feeling particularly sorry for you. 

He leaves his sauce to simmer, nudging your legs apart and stepping between them. His hands land on your lower back, his head on your shoulder. You slip a hand free from under your leg to cup the back of his head, fingers sinking into downy curls. 

“I’ve made things awkward for everyone now,” you say in a small voice. “She’s always angry, but I was the one who shouted. It’s my fault there’s conflict.” 

“I really doubt anyone sees it that way,” says James. His palm that’s higher up on your back is rubbing up and down consolingly. “Anyone who knows you knows that you’re not one to shout. But we’re all bound to get a little riled up sometimes, and by the sound of it you’d just reached the end of your tether, lovely. I think your friends will understand that.” 

“I don’t know.” You began this conversation hoping to keep up a light front, but you’re starting to sound terribly glum. “I know they’ll all be upset if we don’t make up. I think I need to apologize.” 

“Why not her?” 

“She won’t do it.” 

James sighs, leaning back so he can see you and cupping the side of your neck. His thumb strokes your cheek. “If you think that’s what you need to do,” he says frownily. “I just want to say for the record, though, that you haven’t done anything wrong. She sounds like she deserved to be shouted at.” 

You feel a little bit lighter after one of his world-class hugs, your lips tugging upwards. “Oh, yeah? And that’s your totally unbiased opinion, is it?” 

“Totally,” he swears, lifting three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

You let out a little laugh and pinch him on the bicep, where there’s ridiculously little yield. James grins and retaliates by catching your hand, holding it captive as he leans forward, kissing you soundly. 

“You were never in boyscouts,” you mumble against his lips. 

“Could’a been.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin. “I like to consider myself an honorary member.” 

“Pretty sure that doesn’t count.” 

“Oh? And how would you know?”

James’ face is up close and personal with yours, eyes flirty and hand placed intentionally high on your thigh. If you blinked, your eyelashes would be centimeters away from brushing his glasses. 

“You’re distracting me,” you say. 

He smiles, half sheepish. It seeps through your warming skin. “It was working, too. Let me keep trying?” 

You roll your eyes, but you know James can see the grin you’re fighting to suppress. “Sure, fine.” 

“Excellent.” He dots a quick kiss on your chin and squeezes your thigh before stepping back in front of the stove. “Get the pasta out for me, please, lovie? I can hardly ravish you on an empty stomach.”

[biancadoes1]

This is not really an ask. But I was reading an older article today about Nic when she first tried on the intimacy wear at home in front of her mirror & thought “Absolutely not. How am I going to do this.” Then proceeded to hide it in the bottom of her laundry basket.

It reminded me of the way she talked about how terrified she felt in the lead up to their first kiss, to the point she had a stress rash. Gives an insight into how big of a deal all of this was for her. Scary even. How vulnerable she felt. (I mean who wouldn’t!) Then the things she says about Luke - he’s so supportive, he never made her feel judged, he made her feel safe, he is just a joy to be around, she can’t imagine doing this with anybody else, what was originally terrifying turned out to be some of her favourite days, the whole experience is just so special and not something they can explain to anyone else, how they have amazing communication - anything they were unsure or nervous about they could just talk about it.

I think because we mostly see the fun & flirty side of them, it’s easy to forget sometimes just how much their bond and that comfort and closeness they have with each other was very much earned. There is a real strength and depth to their relationship. Like she says, they really went on a journey together… she always really liked him but now she has a real love for him.

The way they make each other feel seen, safe and supported (wether that be on red carpets or on set) is such a beautiful and special thing. I think about the strongest relationships in my own life and it’s the ones where I’ve been the most vulnerable, where they’ve seen me at my most unguarded. The ones that have seen me through the hard stuff and that make the difficult & scary parts of life more bearable.

I guess this is just a reminder that the love we see they have for each other is very real just like N says it is. They laughed and joked a lot on the world tour about how much they enjoyed it & I don’t doubt that for a second and I love that light, fun, cheeky side to their relationship. But just like Pen & Colin, there’s history there for Luke & Nic… one that is very hard to compete with. There were some very real fears, struggles and growth that they bore witness to & supported each other through to get to this point. It’s not surprising that their relationship is not like any other relationship she has. She said towards the end it became effortless for them. They clearly adore and respect each other deeply. I do not think it would be easy for another partner to compete with that kind of earned ease and trust. Or for L & N to not be drawn back to the safety of each others arms. I think they are home to each other and I think they are reminded of that every day they are together and apart.

❤️❤️❤️

[dxxdhood]

take care

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.

tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages

wc: 2.1k

No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering. 

Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face. 

There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.

“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”

You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.

You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings. 

After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.

“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”

“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”

You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.

“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”

“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”

You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett. 

Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.

Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.

You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”

“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.

“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”

Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.

“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.

“Yes,” you say.

“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.

“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”

Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.

“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.

“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”

Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.

A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

“You can press harder, you know.”

He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”

Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.

“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”

You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.

“Okay?” Jason says.

“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.

“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”

“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him. 

“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I want you to finger me.”

He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.

The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch. 

You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.

You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.

“Jason! Fucking go!”

He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation. 

Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.

He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.

“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.

“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.

“You’re close?” 

This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”

You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.

He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.

[mattsnight]

Help - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: in which Matt helps y/n release her stress

Warnings: unprotected sex (always do it safe!!), oral (female!receiving), stress, anxiety, cursing, use of y/n.

A/N: ANOTHER KINKTOBER FIC! also make sure you check out my other kinktober fics

Not proofread

You’ve been working all day and you were so tired. You just wanted to get away from your laptop and watch a movie with your boyfriend. But that simply wasn’t possible, because you had to finish this presentation by tomorrow. It was making you sick. The uneasy feeling of having to do a full presentation for 10 people. I mean, you’ve done it before, but this one was so much more important.

Matt on the other hand, didn’t really do much today. He was cleaning up a bit and just hung out with his brothers to give you some space alone. The only thing that bothered him all day was your health. He cared for you so deeply and hated seeing you all stressed over work. He hated that he couldn’t do anything about it.

You get another phone call. An irritated groan leaves your mouth before you answer it. It’s your colleague Anna. She asks you if you can do her a favor and before you can say anything she interrupts. This is what you hated the most about having to deal with others at work. “I need to do this report, but im on vacation so you can take over, right?” Anna asks. She always tries to put her work onto your big pile of stuff. You couldn’t take it all and she seemed to forget about that.

Matt gently opens the door, noticing your stressful state and decides to help you. He makes his way over to you. Your head shoots up at him. You point to your phone to let him know you’re on a call, but he doesn’t seem to care. He drops down to his knees in front of you, caressing your thighs with his fingers before replacing it with kisses. A soft gasp leaves your mouth. You quickly put your hand over your mouth to hide the noises.

Matt pulls your shorts down. Soon enough after that he pulls your panties to the side. His long middle finger moves against your already wet folds, you can’t help but bite your lip. Anna keeps talking but at this point you cannot focus on her.

“So yeah, you’ll do it right?” She asks.

“A-Anna im too busy.. s-sorry…” you replied as your mouth falls open in satisfaction of Matt’s finger against your sensitive bud. Anna is most likely confused about your reply. You cut her off by hanging up, throwing your phone to the side before looking down at Matt. His fingers are now teasing your hole and his mouth is blowing smoke against your clit. A whimper escapes your lips as you pull him closer by gripping his hair. He gives in. His tongue now swirling against your clit while his fingers are pushed deep inside of you. You can’t help but moan at the pleasure you’re getting from this.

Matt doesn’t keep you on edge for long, his movements speeding up as he feels you clench around him. “Fuck Matt! Im gonna cum.” You cry out as your back arches itself. A loud gasp leaves your mouth as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

“Jus’ came all over m’fuckin’ face, doll.” He smirks up at you, putting his fingers into your mouth. “Suck on em.” You do as he says, sucking gently on his fingers, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a satisfied grin on his face. He feels himself getting harder within milliseconds. It’s getting extremely uncomfortable, so he pulls himself out. Your mouth falls open at how hard he is. You’ve seen him naked before. It was great and all, but he was never THIS hard. His strong arms pick you up and gently put you down on the bed. He lines himself up at your entrance before pushing in.

“Such a good girl.” He says, pulling your shirt up, revealing your beautiful round tits. He gives them a light squeeze. His cock is now deep inside of you. His movements are getting quick. The both of you are moaning and groaning at the feeling, lost in the pleasure.

Matt lets go first, cumming deep inside of you. You come after that, your cum all over his cock. He pulls himself out carefully before falling down on the bed next to you. “That was fucking amazing.” He pants as his hands trail over your stomach. “You less stressed now?” He asks. You nod, feeling anything but stressed out right now.

He could do something about it after all.

EEE I LOVE THIS!! TYSM FOR 400 FOLLOWERS BTWW😯

[dc418writes]

Trial & Error

Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest

🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*

“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.

He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.

It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.

“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.

“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.

“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”

“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”

His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”

You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”

“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.

“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. “Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”

Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.

“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”

Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.

Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”

His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”

As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.

“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”

“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”

His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“I can warm a bottle.”

“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”

“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”

“By crushing me with your big ass?!”

You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.

Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.

“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.

He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”

“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”

A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.

Such a daddy’s girl through and through.

It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.

His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”

You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”

“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”

“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.

Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”

“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”

“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.

For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.

You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.

A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.

‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’

[lycandrophile]

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

[vbecker10]

This might be an odd request, but could you please write a Loki x disabled!reader fic where the reader has Functional Neurologic Disorder and is having a really bad brain fog day? Like they can’t remember what someone two seconds ago kinda bad? I know it’s very specific but I never get to see my disability portrayed anywhere so I thought I’d give it a shot. Thanks for your consideration❤️

Don't Forget

Pairing: Loki x female/disabled reader (Y/N) - established relationship

Summary: You and Loki have been together just over a year and you moved into his apartment three weeks ago. He has been on a mission for the last five days and you are determined to make his homecoming special since it is the first time he's been away since you started living together. Unfortunately, you've been so busy and stressed trying to get things ready that you're FND symptoms become worse and you worry they will ruin your plans.

Background Info: Female reader has Functional Neurologic Disorder (FND) with the following symptoms - numbness / temporary paralysis in legs which requires the intermittent use of a wheelchair, light sensitivity, heat intolerance and memory issues. I know that these are not all of the symptoms of FND and there are several types and degrees of severity but these are the symptoms I included based on the request.

A/N: @fallingfastfailingfaster thank you so much for this request! I really really hope you like it! 💚💚

You turn off your alarm and reach over for Loki but his side of the bed is still empty. You sigh but quickly remember he will finally be home later today. A smile spreads across your lips, it's been five lonely nights and you can't wait to see him again.

You throw off your sheets and realize, much to your disappointment, that you can't feel your legs. They are completely numb and unresponsive when you try to move them. The muscles in your legs had been weak last night but you hoped they would be better this morning even though you know that isn't how it works. You groan as you sit up, today is not the day you want to deal with this. You reach for your wheelchair which thankfully you placed nearby last night and transfer yourself before heading out of the bedroom.

You roll into the living area and turn the lights on then quickly turn them off again as they instantly hurt your eyes. They seem far too bright this morning so you decide you'll just have to do without them. Pulling open the curtains instead, you let the morning light in then head to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee because coffee makes everything better.

When you roll over the threshold into the kitchen you pause. The green glow of Loki's seidr travels through the kitchen and you smile, watching it transform the room. The base cabinets become shorter, enabling the countertops and appliances to lower to an accessible height. The sink cabinet reconfigures so you can roll your chair under it to use it better. All of the handles on the upper cabinets lower so you can reach them without stretching as far, they already have a shelf system which allows you to pull them down so you can grab what you need.

You sit back while the kitchen renovates itself and remember the first morning after you moved in with Loki.

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

You needed to use your wheelchair since you were exhausted from moving and he was shocked by how difficult it was for you to use the kitchen. He asked if you would prefer he had the kitchen adjusted by Stark's team of contractors but you told him no.

"You're too tall to use the kitchen if you lower everything so I can use it," you told him as you struggled to reach the toaster which was pushed against the back splash.

He moved it towards you then smirked, "You figured out my master plan."

You laughed and said, "I forgot who I was talking to for a minute. What master plan does the great God of Mischief have now?"

"To avoid doing the dishes ever again by making it nearly impossible for me to use the kitchen properly," he chuckled. He leaned down and kissed your cheek lightly.

You shook your head but couldn't hide your smile, telling him, "That is a horrible plan."

You reminded him that you wouldn't always need to use your wheelchair so redoing the kitchen permanently might not be very helpful to either of you. He had thought it over for a few hours, digging through some of his old books before he finally found a spell he could adjust slightly for the perfect solution.

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

You reach the coffeemaker easily and turn it on then go back to your bedroom to get dressed for work. Half an hour later you pick up your bag from the coffee table and head to the front door. Your attention catches on the small sign you hung by the door. One of your oldest friends gave it to you as a joke when you moved in.

"Keys," you say out loud as you jingle them in your hand. "Wallet, phone, tablet," you read off the next items as you double check your bag on your lap. "Coffee," you read the next item, "Ahh crap!" You return to the kitchen to find your coffee lukewarm at best, still sitting in the coffeemaker. You sigh and check the clock on the stove, thankfully you still have enough time to make a second cup.

You put a lid on the cold coffee and place it in the fridge, deciding you'll have ice coffee tomorrow. You grab a post-it note from the side of the fridge and write 'ice coffee' in large letters hoping you'll see it when you are getting ready tomorrow. You put it between the note reminding you to pick up the cupcakes at 2PM and a picture of you and Loki in the park.

You smile at the picture, it was one of the first you took together when you started dating just over a year ago. Your memory for little daily tasks may be worse than terrible some days but thankfully you could remember every second you spent with him.

You pull yourself away from the memory and head towards the door again, ready to leave for work. Reaching for the knob, you suddenly you remember why you had gone back into the kitchen in the first place and rub your temples in annoyance. You head back to the kitchen and sit in front of the coffeemaker, afraid if you look away for even a second you will forget it once more.

You head straight to Agent Hill's office when you get to the floor where you with. You remind her that you will only be working until noon since Loki is arriving around 4PM.

"Are you sure you want to work today?" she asks, looking at your chair and not you. "If you're not feeling well, you can take the day off."

"I'm fine," you assure your boss. If you took off every day you didn't feel 100%, you would work around five days a year.

"You have plenty of sick time," she continues to insist you aren't well enough to work. You fight to not roll your eyes, just because you needed help getting around today didn't mean you were suddenly incapable of working.

"I told you, I'm fine," you repeat, keeping your voice even. Before she can respond, you take your tablet out of your bag and ask her, "You need the paperwork for case file X-176 and H-778 today right? The rest can wait until tomorrow, I think." You check your notes to make sure you get all your work in before you need to leave for the day.

"Yes, just those two files," she answers. "But like I said, if you need the day-"

"I'll have them to you soon," you promise then turn your chair away from her, not allowing room for her to make another comment.

You sigh when you close the door but only a second later you run into another annoying problem. Steve and Sam are walking down the hall in the direction of your office and you know the second you make eye contact with Steve what he is going to do.

"Good morning, Y/N," he says in his typically cheerful voice as he grabs onto the handles of your wheelchair.

"Hi Steve, hi Sam," you greet them both. "You don't need to do that," you tell Steve for the hundredth time.

"Its not a problem," he answers then continues his conversation with Sam as if you are simply an object he is moving. You know he means well but every time he does this, your mind returns to a post you saw on Pinterest a few years ago. It showed how to install small plastic spikes onto your handles so people can't just grab them and push you around. Nothing made you feel less independent then having someone just roll you around without even interacting with you.

Thankfully Loki never does that. He always asks if you want or need his help before touching your chair, he has never assumed you can't do things by yourself. He knows you are fiercely independent and he always supports you, it is one of the many, many things you love about him.

You rest your head on one hand with your elbow on the desk, hoping your headache will go away before Loki gets home. It started pounding as soon as you closed the door to your office this morning and hasn't let up.

Your office is the same temperature as always but you fell like it is ninety degrees. You drink another sip of water and close your eyes for a moment, feeling your heart beating faster. Wiping away a bit of sweat from your forehead, you ask J.A.R.V.I.S what the temperature in the room is for the fifth or sixth time. Again, it tells you the room is seventy degrees but your body doesn't believe it. You roll to the window near your desk and open it as much as you can reach to try and let the breeze in.

Your alarm goes off a half an hour later and you look at it curiously, wondering why you set it. When you check the message attached to the alarm you smile, your done for the day finally and Loki will be back in a few hours. You check your email for a third time to make sure you sent Agent Hill the two case files that were due today and shut down your computer.

Thankfully your memory issues weren't an issue when it came to doing your work today. You had notes and reminders all over your desk and computer so you wouldn't miss a step. Loki had suggested you write out your whole process one day when your memory wasn't so foggy and it was incredibly helpful for days like today.

You leave your office and make your way back to your apartment, luckily avoiding Steve or anyone else who wanted to be helpful. You decide to get changed quick before heading out to run your errands, the final task of the day is to pick up the cupcakes you ordered.

Loki has a substantial sweet tooth and the bakery you ordered from is special to you both. It was only a few blocks from the Tower and it was his favorite one in the city. He had taken you there after you saw a movie on your first date, sharing pastries and talking until closing. You surprised Loki with a treat from there a few weeks later when he came back from a short mission to Russia. It quickly become a tradition, whenever Loki came home after being away for a week or longer, you would pick up something for him from there.

He would sometimes bring you one of your favorite pastries and a small bunch of flowers when you were having an especially rough time with your FND. You really appreciated the way he would try and make you smile no matter how badly you were feeling.

Even though Loki had been gone less than a week, you still wanted to surprise him tonight. Since it was the first time he had left since you moved in together, it felt like something you wanted to celebrate. You had planned on making a home cooked meal as well. It was hard not to laugh at how eloquently he complained about the food SHIELD provided when he was on a mission.

You get off the bus at the grocery store and try not to be too annoyed. It is always such a pain to take public transportation with your wheelchair but what was really bothering you was that you should have done this errand already. You had meant to grocery shop two days ago, when you had the day off from work but you got distracted doing your laundry and other things. By the time you remembered that you were supposed to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, it was too late to go out.

You wait on the long line with your basket of groceries resting on your lap, thinking about the last time you came shopping here with Loki.

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

"No, that one," you giggled and pointed to the cereal on the very top shelf.

"This one specifically?" he asked and you nodded when he grabed the box without having to stretch at all.

"You are so useful," you told him when he added it to the cart he was pushing. You rolled next to him down the aisle.

"I knew you were only keeping me around because of my height," he joked then kissed the top of your head.

"Its not the only reason," you smiled up at him. "But it's definitely on the list."

"Speaking of," he paused. "Is this everything that was on the list?"

"I'm not sure," you admitted with a frown when you glanced into the partially full cart. You had left the list on the kitchen counter with your reusable bags, of course.

He took your hand and said, "Take your time."

You bit your lip and looked at the cart, trying to compare it to the list you had written while eating breakfast. "Something is missing," you felt sure of it. Loki stood quietly with you, not rushing you while you thought. "Eggs," you looked up at him excitedly when it finally popped into your head.

He smiled, "To the eggs." He followed you to the back of the store, as he had three times previously that trip, never once complaining.

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

You smile to yourself, still thinking about Loki, as the line finally moves. He is one of the few people you know who has never made you feel stupid or annoying for not being able to remember things. You told him once when you first started dating that you couldn't stand it when people treated you as if you weren't smart because of your memory issues and it hurt. Since then, he has always encouraged you to find the missing piece yourself first and only fills in the blanks if you ask him to.

You put the finishing touches on the lasagna and slide into the oven as your phone chimes on the counter. You pick it up and see a text from Loki telling you he's back. The smile on your face fades quickly as you realize this means you had lost track of time. You had hoped to meet him at the landing pad, you wanted to see him the minute he was home. Apparently you set up your alarm to remind you to go down and meet him, but you forgot to turn it on.

A few minutes later you hear the front door unlock and you wheel yourself into the living area to greet him. He opens the door and immediately bends down to kiss you, wrapping you in a tight hug. When he finally releases you from his hold he smiles and says, "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you look up at him, you couldn't be happier to have him home.

He walks back towards the door to hang up his bag then turns on the lights without thinking. You instantly raise your hand to cover your eyes and look down as the over head light feels painfully bright. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, noticing your discomfort. He comes to your side and waves his hand, dimming the lights. "Tell me when it is okay, sweetheart," he says.

You lower your hand slightly and when it no longer hurts you tell him, "That's perfect, thanks."

He kisses your cheek and then asks, "How you are feeling?" He moves towards the couch and you follow him.

"Have the lights been bothering you all day as well?" his tone is a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"I'm fine," you answer but he raises his eyebrow and tilts his head, you know he wants the truth and not what you tell everyone else. You admit you are having a rough day, "When I woke up I couldn't use my legs at all and my memory is absolutely gone today."

You push yourself onto the couch next to Loki and he shifts so his arm is around you. "Yeah, I didn't even turn them on what I got to my office. It felt like the room was on fire today too, it gave me such a headache," you tell him.

"I'm sorry you didn't feel well today," he runs his fingers through your hair slowly. "Have you been pushing yourself too hard?" he asks and you shrug, not looking at him. "I know you want to do everything but you need to remember to rest." You nod and he pulls you closer.

"-and then I told Thor that if he wasn't on the jet in the next two minutes, I was going to have them take off without him," Loki chuckles.

"You did not threaten to leave your brother in Siberia," you put your hand over your mouth.

"I had been away from you long enough," he smiles and you lean towards him, kissing his cheek. His smiles vanishes and he looks into the kitchen, "Is something burning?"

You turn to look towards the kitchen, "Oh no! Did I forget to set the timer?"

He gets up quickly and shuts off the oven before opening it and freeing a cloud of black smoke. Your heart sinks as you get back in your chair and go to the kitchen. He puts the charred remains of your lasagna in the sink and waves off the smoke so the fire alarm doesn't go off.

"I can't believe I ruined it," you look down.

Loki kneels in front of you and touches your shoulder gently, "I'm sorry, I know how hard you worked on that." You fight to hold back tears and he says, "It's okay, darling. We can order take out tonight, have a bit of dessert and watch a movie. This weekend you can show me how you make your famous lasagna."

All of a sudden you feel a tightness in your chest, "I forgot to go to the bakery." You begin to lose the battle to hold back your tears. "I burnt dinner, I messed up getting a dessert, I couldn't even get myself together to go down and see you when you got off the jet," you look down as the first tear slips down your cheek. "I wanted to make your first homecoming since we moved in together special but it's ruined because of my stupid, useless memory," you cry.

He leans towards you and you wrap your arms around him, resting your face on his shoulder. He rubs your back slowly and quietly says, "My homecoming is not ruined." You look at him and he smiles, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "I can't tell you how loved it makes me feel knowing how much effort you put into tonight," he tells you.

"Even if it was a total disaster?" you ask.

"Even then," he risks his answer and you breath a small laugh. "I know you are upset about dinner and dessert, but I'm just glad to be home with you." You nod and lock eyes with Loki, he smiles and strokes your cheek gently. "Your memory is..."

"Garbage?" you suggest.

"I was going to say 'not the best'," he shakes his head but you smile a bit.

"But garbage works," you joke, feeling slightly better.

"Will you be quiet and let me try to be romantic for a moment?" he laughs and you pretend to zip your mouth closed. He sighs and starts again, "Your memory is not the best, we can both agree on that, but I never want you to forget how much I love you. You are smart and beautiful and strong, pushing through each day even when you are in pain or your body fights you. You are the most amazing woman in the nine realms and I am so lucky to be able to call you mine."

You smile as Loki talks and when he finishes you pull him to you, kissing him deeply. "I love you too," you tell him. After a moment, he sits back and you wipe away the last remaining tears.

"I have an idea," he says. "I think you need more triggers for your memory."

"What do you mean?" you ask.

He points over your shoulder towards the door as he answers, "You haven't forgotten your keys once since you put that up."

"That was just a joke," you tell him.

"But it works," he responds.

You sit on the couch as Loki unpacks the Chinese takeout onto the coffee table. "Are you sure you're okay with doing all of this to your apartment?" you ask when he hands you a pair of chopsticks.

"Y/N, this is your home now too," he reminds you gently. "I want you to feel comfortable here and I want it to work for you, however you need it to." You kiss his cheek and he smiles.

After the two of you finish eating, you begin thinking of ways to adjust your new home to suit you better. Loki asks J.A.R.V.I.S to reprogram all of the lights to be on dimmer settings so you can still use them when you're light sensitivity is acting up. He has the program automatically ask you to set timers or reminders for all of the appliances in the kitchen, including the coffeemaker. A few hours later, you are both tired and decide any other changes can be made in the morning or as you think of them.

He helps you into bed and you push yourself onto his chest so he can hold you. He runs his fingers up and down your back lightly and you close your eyes. "I'm so glad your home," you tell him in a quiet voice.

"So am I," he replies, kissing your forehead. "Don't forget, I love you."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

[honeykaes]

a renter's deal

pairing: renter!kaveh x afab!reader II 2.2k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, cunnilingus, fingering, reader had a previous crush on kaveh, unambiguous if kaveh knew, reader is a landlord, unedited

synopsis: your old college-friend (and crush) Kaveh hadn’t paid rent yet. Just as you draft an email to inform him of the consequences, you hear a knock at the door wish a kaveh desperate to pay you back in other ways.

Cicadas loud chirping echoing from outside as your a/c continuously blast to avoid the hot temperatures of the summer from creeping into your apartment complex. It was the end of the month as the next loomed over in a couple of days. As the landlord, this was one of your busiest times. From working on paperwork moving people out of apartments to finalizing paperwork and credit scores to move people into the apartment, you had your work cut out for you—especially when it came to residents paying their dues for their apartments.

A fan blew past you, causing your body  to shiver as you shake your head trying to focus again on the laptop in front of you. An excel sheet on the screen greeted you back, tracking everyone’s payments. Apartment 125, Tighnari, paid in full. So did apartment 243, Aether and Lumine,  before they moved out.

As you scrolled down, you noticed only a few people had not paid you for rent yet despite today being the last day of the month—including your old college friend, Kaveh.

You and Kaveh were once friends in college before losing contact after graduating. He was always very popular and friendly, a heart of gold that always managed to get hurt by one situation or another. He was now a pretty-well known architect trying to start his own firm. 

You helped him through his breakups, his tests—his ups and downs, as he did the same for you. You wanted to reconnect when you first worked with him, moving in to his complex but things weren’t the same. The two of you aren’t the same 18, 19 year olds staying up late and going to a midnight movie showing before an exam like you used to—you both were in your late twenties, different responsibilities and interests pulling you.

And that scared you, so you gave him space.

Since the economy had slowed and businesses and organizations were interesting in building more projects anymore, Kaveh suffered immensely, scrapping anything he could to try to pay rent at the last minute to you. You felt bad but you didn’t want to pry either. 

You let out a sigh, clicking on your emails as you began to draft. Since he was late on payment, a meeting needed to be scheduled and fees processed to strategize a plan. You didn’t want to evict the poor man; or anyone for that matter.

Just as you finished drafting the email, you turned your head hearing a knock at the door. Placing your laptop on your coffee table and rising from the couch, you expected a resident to inform you about something breaking or not working. Your lips parted in shock to see Kaveh at the door. 

Kaveh seemed completely disheveled, long blond ombre hair, a mess unlike its usually tidy self. His clothes were wrinkled and unfastened as if he had just woken up and immediately ran here. He leans along the wall near your door, chest heaving loudly as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Kaveh?! Are you alright?!” you stammered out. Kaveh puts a finger out to signal to give him a second before he finally catches his breath.

“N-No. I’m so sorry I’m late on rent,” he groaned. “I am working with this school to create a playground but they won’t be able to pay me until next week. I’m a bit short with rent with my current funds.”

Your lips curled downwards before lifting your head to to nurse the headache threatening to form from the stress of the situation.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been late, Kaveh. I can’t grant you a grace period. I really need that money in full,” you murmured. Kaveh turned to face you, scarlet eyes misty in desperation. Your heart withered seeing him in this state, but you feared bugging would put you on a tight spot with your boss.

“Please (Y/n)! You got to understand, I really tried this time. I can give you what I have and give you the remaining next week! Then I’ll be good to go for next month,” Kaveh yelled out. 

“Kaveh, let’s continue this inside, okay? I’ll get you a glass of water or some tea to calm your nerves,” you beckoned, as your own anxiety began to creep in your stomach, you open your door beckoning Kaveh to come inside without a potential audience watching the two of you.

As he nervously entered, stifly sitting himself at the couch as you leave to enter your adjacent kitchen.

“I am only short 500 out of the 1500 dollars for rent and utilities. I can surely give that to you next week,” Kaveh called out as you prepare some glasses of water for you two. You sigh once more, leaning yourself against the fridge trying to figure out what to say without hurting your old friend’s feelings anymore.

“Kaveh, technically it wouldn’t be 500 but 1000. 100 for the late fee and 400 because this is the second time, along with the 500. I don’t make these policies, my bosses do,” you replied solemnly, guilt beginning to eat at you.

“Then what can I do to prevent the late fees from occurring!” he asked.

In college, whenever he was in a bad situation, to make him feel better you always started off with a ridiculous joke to catch him off guard before giving some sound advice with a smile. Oftentimes, he’d be smiling back, hopeful and taking your feedback and lighthearted jokes for the better.

Grabbing the glasses of water, you walked back into the living room placing the waters on the coffee table and closing your laptop.

“I don’t know, fuck me or something,” you idly murmured out before chuckling. Just as you were about to give him actual advice, Kaveh fell to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your legs. You gasped, flustered,  body shifting in embarrassment feeling his close contact.

“Kaveh! What are you doing! It was a joke! Y’know like I used to do in college!” you stammered out. Kaveh lifted his head up, eyebrows slightly furrowed in determination.

“Well, I’m not! I wouldn’t mind it at all. If this makes those pesky late fees go away, I’d be more than happy to do this and more!” Kaveh replied. You tried forming words from your quivering lips but your mind seemed to be malfunctioning, feeling his lips beginning to trail along your thighs, placing soft kisses along the skin.

“...Please (Y/n). For old times sake?” he whispered. 

Your heart tugged remembering the big crush you had on him before and the drunken kisses you shared with him as you attending parties together leaving you longing for more—the memories were flooding you like a tidal wave.

“...Okay, Kaveh…”

With a small smile gracing his sun-kissed face, Kaveh hands trailed up as his fingers hook on their shorts and the waistband of your underwear and gilded them down. He leaned his face in, puffs of his hot breath causing your body to shiver from the sensation as your clit began throbbing in anticipation.

His face tilts closer, darting his tongue out as he trailed a long swipe between your folds. The muscles curled up to brush against your clit, jolts of pleasure rooting through you from the sudden touch. He swirled along the bud of nerves, hands squeezing at your thighs. Your hands reached over to his hair, playing with the soft curls and losing yourself to pleasure.

He flicked his tongue along the nub, feeling your hips beginning to rock along his face. A low groan emitted from you as you ground yourself against him, his lips circling around your clit before beginning to suck. He continued to switch from sucking to rapidly flicking and circling his tongue on your clit while his hand crept up to squeeze your ass so he could keep up with your movements.

As he continued, one hand eventually left the globe letting two of his fingers sink into your dribbling cunt, coated with your arousal and his saliva. He pumped them deliberately slowly, your legs shaking from his delicate touch, wanting more.

“Kaveh,” you whimpered out, hearing him slurp continuously as your slick graced his mouth. He nuzzled his face deeper into your cunt, as his fingers pumped inside your pulsating walls, curling and massaging themselves to get you closer to your high.

Shutting your eyes, your hands traveled to your chest and squeezed it tightly as your voice began to rise, feeling Kaveh’s tongue press harder against the button. You throw your head back, as your high finally reached you. Kaveh struggled to keep up with your movements as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, nursing your high before it fell down. 

With slight jitters, Kaveh finally leaned away, lower mouth completely coated in your slick. His tongue was parted out, strings of your arousal still connecting the muscle with your cunt. Your tired eyes stared down in embarrassment, cheeks warm in shame as Kaveh wipes his mouth in content.

You could see the bulge poking out from his pants.

“W-Well! You’ve done your part! So—”

You're interrupted by Kaveh rising from his knees on the floor and connecting his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. You can’t help but moan, feeling his tongue, stained in your juices, roam inside your own mouth as he pulled you closer. He momentarily broke the kiss, both of you trying to catch your breaths, lips hovering by your own.

“I want to ensure that you don’t go back on your word though. So please, let me ensure your pleasure…” Kaveh breathlessly begged, claiming your lips once more. His hands wandered to your waist as pinned you against the wall—paintings knocking roughly from the sudden movement. 

Breaking the kiss once more, he zipped his pants down, revealing his throbbing erection. His cock was flushed, shivering as he took a hold of it as precum budded at its tip, dripping down to the rest of his length. He pumped it a few times with a shaky moan erupting from his lips before using another hand to slightly light your leg up near his small waist.

Your lips trembled as the tip of his cock spread past your folds trying to find your entrance, gathering up the abundant slick drooling from you. As Kaveh lined himself up, he placed his lips by your ear and with a low groan, sank himself inside of you. 

He grunted loudly when he finally bottomed out, cock nestled deep inside of you. He pecked at your neck before snapping his hips back, thrusting himself inside of you. The paintings hit the wall rowdily to the pace of his thrusts. 

“I hope you’re enjoying my end of the d-deal…” Kaveh grunted out, pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear all of his little noises. You moaned in response as Kaveh reached over to press tight circles along your overstimulated clit. 

“Y-You made me so sensitive,” you admitted, as you chirped, feeling Kaveh shifting his angle pistoning inside of you so he was not hitting that spot he desperately wanted to find.

“T-That’s the point. I want to make you cum so hard. I know you can…you're so close aren’t you, eshgham,” he whispered, nibbling on your neck. Kaveh could feel your walls beginning to cave in and spasm, signaling your end was close. 

“K-Kav—” Kaveh captured your lips as you reached your second climax, your body shivering pinned against him. Hips sloppily faltered as he furrowed his eyebrows to try to control his own temptations and guide you down your high once more.

As glossy lips part from your own, Kaveh slipped his cock out, pumping it rapidly before a desperate groan emitted from his lips before biting down to try to be quieter. Ropes of cum shot from his tip, smearing themselves on your thighs. 

He watched as his cum glided down the curves of your wobbling leg. He let your other leg down before supported your weight on your body with a small smile.

“Easy there…you’re probably very overstimulated. Let’s get you all cleaned up in your bathroom. Where is that,” he asked. You tiredly pointed into the direction of your bedroom as he guided you toward it. As he opened the door, he gently set you down on the rim of the porcelain bathtub before reaching to grab a rag on your towel rack.

“I’m sorry for going a little overboard. I just wanted to ensure I had done my part. Keeping my end of the deal is important to me,” he murmured, wetting the towel up with some soap before wiping it down to clean your legs. As he wiped over your cunt, you whined at the burn of overstimulation getting to you.

“...So, please, please please don’t go back on your word, (Y/n),” he begged, with large  pleading eyes. You sighed once more, but to his surprise it was a lot lighter in tone than earlier.

“...You don’t have to pay rent at all for this month, okay? I’ll cover it…just focus on getting the money for the next month,” you whispered. Kaveh lit up as a grin curled on his face. He leaned in placing a tender kiss on your forehead as your cheeks fought against a blush.

“...I missed you Kaveh…” you admitted. Kaveh brushed part of your hair away.

“I missed you too.”

[waxflowerexe]

Shoutaaaa x Little Reader!!!!

I have materialised, escaped the void if you will

Anyway a little Drabble Abt Shota discovering ur little side, oral fixation etc and how I like to think he would deal w it🥹 The feels were felt in this one tehe very daddy but also quite subtle I think ALSO SMUT WARNING LOLOL

Ignore the bad grammar lolz I haven’t written in ages lolol MINORS GO TF OUT AS USUAL 😍

Daddy Sho x secretly little reader (?)

Usually after an especially long day you and Shouta typically fuck out your frustrations, it’s slow and intimate at first but sooner than later you both pick up the pace. Sex quickly becomes hot and desperate as you both chased the relief of an inevitable orgasm. You of course had your own coping mechanisms, colouring, watching childhood cartoons and a slight oral fixation. This was of course well kept from Sho, you already felt insecure about your age gap, you didn’t want him to think you were any more immature that you may have been.

Today was different, albeit you didn’t realise until he was balls deep in you telling you what a ‘nasty slut’ you were. Usually you relished in being beneath him, letting him control you. You liked the feeling of helplessness that overcame you when he touched you after a day overthinking and honestly just thinking in general. However, today something snapped. It all felt too much, Shota’s strength felt scary, his words made you scared…upset. You couldn’t place it but you knew you hated it. Tears welled in your eyes, as your safe word left your lips in a muffled cry.

Of course he stopped immediately.

“Baby what’s wrong”

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was wrong, usually this was what you needed. How you needed him. But today you just felt mushy and vulnerable and small, in a different way. You dreaded the day that your secrets would intervene with your relationship. But it did, and today you didn’t want to be broken, instead you wanted to be treated delicately, by a handler to fearful to leave even the slightest scratch, scared of break you. But it was too many words, to many complex thoughts for your stupid little brain.

So instead of replying, the tears ramp up until your sobbing incoherent apologies. A confused Shouta starts to worry more,

“Babe, it’s fine it’s okay” and a million other comforts flow from his lips but still you can’t pinpoint the words to explain, to tell him what’s wrong.

“Pretty girl, does something hurt”

He moves you into his lap and began rocking you, almost like a baby, looking for any bruises and cuts. The simple back and forth was so soothing and as he watched you melt into his touch it clicks, this was what you wanted, this was how you needed him. As he watches you calm down, he realises it too. Your usual arrangement was off the table today and that was fine.

He had an inkling that you worked a little different to girls he had been with before, he knew you fell into a hazy and vulnerable mindset. He saw how you sucked your little thumbs when you were stressed and how you took to digital colouring pages when you thought he wasn’t looking. All these little things he thought were so cute but he let you engage in these thing so in your own time, as not to intrude. Although, today you needed help.

“Did my pretty girl need cuddles?” he coos softly

You nod in response his tone making you mind fuzzy. He rarely used this tone, and you were always too nervous to ask for more.

He notices you fiddle with his fingers

“Does babygirl need something from me”

You nod, unsure

He silently slips two fingers in your mouth. You suckle softly, humming in content, glad he understood what you wanted.

“Good girl, my baby works so hard, she deserves to come home and wrap up in my arms. That’s it baby, close your eyes”

You let your eyes fall shut

“Good girl daddy’s here”

Your tense slightly, you’d only ever used this term in the bedroom. But before you can react he hushes you, bouncing you on his knee.

“Shhh baby, go to sleep”

You would both have to talk about things in the morning. But for now he was happy to hush you to sleep, tracing circles on your back and petting you gently.

Me bc I WANT SHOTA AND THIS AND UGHHHHH TO BE LOVED AND ACCEPTED

Anyway look after ur selves beauties and drink water!!! Especially since it’s so hot

More mid writing soon lovelies

Love Flo🌸~

[missmatchablossom]

Gojo x Reader Royalty AU | Part IV.

summary: you are a princess in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of the country, satoru gojo. after a long, stressful day, gojo somehow ends up at the door to your room at 12:04 am

a.n.: I'm not sure if anyone is still following this series, but if you are, enjoy part 4! I switched it up and made this chapter gojo's pov :) enjoy the slight angst + sweet fluff

tags: @lysaray @sad-darksoul

Gojo POV

12:04 am

I was exhausted. 

Weary to my bones after all the meetings and speeches and royal bullshit I had to deal with as crown prince. I rubbed my temple as I strode towards my destination, not knowing what I was gonna do or say. I just knew that I needed to see her, even just for a second.

It bewildered me how I could live so many years of my life just fine before she came into my life, and now I suddenly can’t stand a week without her. She pops into my head when I’m supposed to be focusing - in the middle of an audience, during a meeting, while I’m working - then suddenly all I can think of is her smile.

I released a sigh of relief once I saw the light still on in her room. She was still awake, even if she should be asleep by now.

I shook my nerves off as I knocked on her door softly. The one line we’ve yet to cross is visiting each other’s bedrooms. She’s practically moved into my study, and I’ve grown so used to seeing her on my sofa immersed in her work or buried in a book that I struggle to focus when she’s not around. But coming to her bedroom is something I hadn’t dared until now.

“Yes?” she answered quietly. I’d give over my entire kingdom just to listen to her voice. 

“It’s me,” I said, lingering by the front of her door.

“My prince? Come in,” she said, sounding alarmed. My sweet girl, always concerned about me. I didn’t know what it truly felt like to be taken care of until I met her. How happy it made me feel that she remembered my favorite desserts. How safe it made me feel when she never pushed me to share what I wasn’t comfortable with. How vulnerable and relieved it made me feel whenever she could see how I was feeling before I even know what I was feeling.

I carefully stepped inside, admiring how cozy she made the room feel. The fireplace lit up her space with a soft glow, and she had a book face-down on her comforter. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, but we weren’t there. Not yet.

The tension on my shoulders eased as the ache in my chest grew when I saw her. She sat on the edge of her bed wearing the crewneck I loaned her yesterday, with a pair of dangerously short sleep shorts.

For once, I felt a loss of words as I wondered how someone could be so adorable and so sexy at the same time. Thinking about her wrapped up in my crewneck did things to me that I wasn’t sure I should ever voice aloud.

“You okay?” she asked, concerned etched into her beautiful features as she walked over to me. 

Lord, was she beautiful.

I’ve spent hours wondering how eyes could sparkle like hers. How her lips could look so soft and shiny. How someone could smell so sweet, like strawberries and jasmine and everything good in the world.

“Satoru?” she repeated, and I wondered how long I’d been staring. If I didn’t feel like shit, I’d be celebrating how good it felt for her to call me by my name. 

“I just wanted to see you,” I admitted, watching as her eyes softened and she gave me a shy smile. I felt like the richest man in the world when she looked at me like that.

“Bad day?” she asked. I knew she would accept whatever answer I gave her. She was easy to talk to. She made me feel safe.

I decided to be brave, and let her in a bit.

“I saw Suguru today. For the first time since he abdicated,” I admitted. Her hand immediately joined mine, squeezing it gently in unspoken support. I couldn’t look at her as I continued.

“The things he said…I could barely recognize him. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, but it's a lot,” I said, not feeling ashamed at how my voice cracked ever so slightly. I still struggled to articulate my feelings, but somehow she always understood exactly what I needed.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand soothingly as we stood in silence. 

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, her warm voice washing over me as I felt my chest tighten again. I don’t know how she managed to make me feel good about unloading my problems onto her, but she did.

I nodded, squeezing her hand back. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the emotions I’d been forcing myself to keep in check throughout the day. 

She looked at me as if she understood. And I was glad she did, because I didn’t have any more words in me. 

She released my hand, taking a step back and opening her arms out widely. 

“Would you like a hug?” she asked sweetly, and I did nothing to hide the shock on my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged someone because I wanted to, let alone a time someone ever asked me if I wanted one.

I was scared. I imagined the weight of my problems and stress taking her down, driving her to madness. But she patiently held her arms out to me, and I wanted nothing more than to be in her embrace. 

I nodded and stepped towards her, my heart feeling like it could explode out of my chest. She wrapped her arms around my middle, pulling me in close. I felt the warmth of her head press against my chest, and I felt like crying. I could die a happy man if I could have her this close to me at all times, if I could smell her strawberry-jasmine shampoo for the rest of my life.

I carefully wrapped my arms around her shoulders, afraid of hurting her. I felt rigid, fearing I sucked at hugging and was probably making her feel like she was hugging a statue.

She didn’t say anything, though. She just held me close, rubbing up and down my back with her palms wordlessly until she felt the tension in my shoulders dissipate. 

I felt myself finally relax, and I leaned down to rest my chin atop her head. I dared to press a quick kiss to the top of her hair. 

I didn’t know how long we stood there embracing, I just knew I could stay there forever.

“I should probably let you get to sleep,” I murmured into her ear, and I felt her shiver at the contact. I smiled to myself, fighting against thinking about all the things I wanted to do with her beyond hugging. I made no move to release her from my embrace, though.

She pulled away first, and as I watched the way the firelight illuminated her face, I felt like dropping to my knees to worship her.

“Or, you could stay tonight,” and I felt my heart stop, while other parts of my body suddenly seemed wide awake.

My eyes must have been widened to saucers, because she immediately blushed and shook her head. 

“I’m not, I didn’t mean…” she trailed off, puffing her cheeks. Something she did when she felt shy, I noticed. And thought it was adorable.

“My bed is enormous. You could just sleep next to me,” she said, daring to peek up at me. I thought I was a flirt, but this girl could teach a class.

“And, you look like you could use the company. I could too, actually,” she said. I didn’t want to return to my cold, empty room to be left alone with my thoughts. 

“Are you sure?” I asked. I know she offered, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. We’ve never spent the night together before.

“I’m sure,” she said, giving me one of her devastating, full smiles. I knew she was telling the truth.

“I have popcorn, and movies!” she added, and there was nothing more that I wanted in this world than to spend the night snuggled up next to this girl.

“And, I have mint water. I know you're a royal pain in the ass and can’t drink regular water,” she joked.

I laughed for the first time the entire week, and the sound of her matching laughter made it feel as though I had no problems in the world. I didn’t have the entire kingdom of my shoulders. I wasn’t the crown prince. I was just Satoru Gojo.

I slipped my hand into her fingers, lifting the back of her hand to my lips.

“Thank you. You always know how to make me feel better,” I said truthfully, trying not to think about how hard I was falling for this girl.

That beautiful blush dusted her cheeks once again, but she recovered quickly and tugged me by my hand towards her bed. 

We settled under her comforter, and I was in heaven to be surrounded by the smell of her. She set the first movie to play, and when I extended my arm out to her, she gave me a brilliant smile before snuggling to my side. 

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so much peace.

~

Here is the link to the part before this!

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 3

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, missionary, references to rape, dub-con, dom!beomgyu, sub!reader

You’ve decided you were overthinking everything. Your dreams mean nothing. Your dream about Taehyun meant nothing. It was just your stressed brain being weird. Though it was awkward being around him for a couple of days after that dream and feeling that inexplicable feeling of guilt and—you’d never say it outloud–love springs up your throat every time your eyes meet.

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to think about it too much today when there is something much more distracting to deal with. 

"What's with your eye?” You ask Taehyun, noting the eyepatch he was wearing. “Is it a stye?" 

He shakes his head, grinning as he pulls the eyepatch aside to reveal a black eye. You gasp. "Oh my god! Did you get in a fight?"

"You could say that.” He shrugs, grin still in full effect. “I'm a wrestler."

“Oh. That is… not shocking.” You frown, making him laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to be the type.” You say as you give him a once over. Despite his sweet and innocent looks, he had a kind of roughness about him that gave him away. “Yesterday when you were helping me with the door of the back room, you nearly ripped it off its hinges.” 

“You said it was stuck so I expected more resistance. I just didn’t account for your chicken arms.” He teases, making you gasp, affronted. “How dare you? Check out these guns.” 

You pull up the sleeves of your shirt, flexing said chicken arms in various wrestler poses. “I bet I can even take you, Mr. fighter.” 

“I bet you can.” Something about the way he says that, low and a little hoarse brings a blush to your cheeks, a certain double entendre you’re not sure he meant hanging in the air, but you decide to just barrel past it. You can’t let your stupid brain keep overthinking the smallest things. You refuse to let in that weird sense of intimacy and familiarity that your dreams have conjured up seep into your reality and your relationship with him. You’re purely coworkers, maybe tentative friends, nothing more.  

“Damn right.” You declare, satisfied. “Now let me take a look at that eye. My mother is a nurse, you know?”

“Is she?” He sits down obediently, letting you examine his eye closely. You start by making sure the eye itself isn’t hurt and that his vision is clear, getting him to follow your finger to test his eye movements and making him read a few things at a distance, before you move on to the possible brain injury. “You didn’t pass out, did you?”

“No.”

“Did you vomit?”

“Nope.” 

“Had any seizures?”

“No.” 

“Do you remember everything?” 

“I wish I didn’t.” He snorted. “Damn bastard floored me with that punch.” 

You wince as you imagine that kind of impact that would bring him down and cause such a black eye. Instinctively, you reach forward to brush your thumb gently under his bruised eye. “Aw, does it hurt?” 

“It feels better now.” He smiles, looking at you strangely, and your heart skips a beat. Okay, surely you’re not just imagining this, are you? Your brain can’t be that much of an asshole. 

But before you can attempt to make sense of the way he’s acting, an angry voice cuts through the delicate moment savagely.  

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your boyfriend’s voice is like ice water down your back, making you jump away from Taehyun immediately. You turn to him in shock.“Beomgyu! What are you doing here?” 

“Checking in on you, but I’ve clearly arrived at the wrong time.” He spits, eyeing Taehyun angrily, and you quickly realize the source of the misunderstanding, waving your hands in the air in denial, trying to dispel whatever erroneous conclusions you’re sure his mind came up with. Damn it, it’s bad enough dealing with Beomgyu’s jealousy without you unintentionally feeding it. “It’s nothing. I was just checking his black eye. He got injured at a match.” 

“He’ll get another one if he doesn’t step away from you.” Beomgyu threatens and you hear Taehyun snort from next to you. “Yeah, right. As if you could ever land a punch on me.” 

Goddammit, Taehyun. You’re trying to de-escalate things here!

“Wanna see?” Beomgyu growls, rising up to the challenge immediately and charging forward. But you quickly step between him and Taehyun, not wanting a fight to break out in the middle of your workplace. 

"Beomgyu calm down. You’re making a scene." You whisper, noticing how the customers' eyes have turned to you. But of course, Beomgyu doesn’t care, his anger and jealousy getting the best of him. "Am I? I'm sorry, should I wait for you to fuck him on the counter first?"

Humiliation sears your skin at his accusation, said so loudly and easily in front of your coworkers and everyone in the shop. You’re so embarrassed you could cry, but that would only humiliate you further. So you quickly grab his arm and pull him out the back and into the alleyway behind the cafe where no one can see you. 

You can’t believe he’s doing this again. He promised he will get himself under control. You’ve tried to reassure him that you only love him. You’ve tried again and again to put boundaries when he acts out, but then he completely crashes through them with no regard for you. Why should he when you always forgive him and take him back after his abhorrent behavior? It’s your fault. You’ve allowed him to go this far and now he’s out of control. You need to put an end to this.  

"I'm done. This is over. I'll come around later to get my stuff." You tell him, and his whole demeanor changes–all wrath is gone from his face and he turns into a wounded animal in the blink of an eye, shaking his head in denial as his eyes flood with tears. "No. No. You can't leave me. Not again."

"What the fuck are you talking about?” You shout harshly, and he flinches. God, why does that still make you feel bad despite everything he’s done to you? “I never left you. Maybe that's the problem."

“No, please, I'm sorry!” He wails, "I'm sorry I blew up. I'm sorry I made a scene. I just can’t stand to see him with you. I know he wants to take you from me."

His unwarranted conviction drives you mad. Does he really think every single guy is out to steal you from him? "You are insane."

 Another guy would take the hint and dial it down on the crazy, but not Beomgyu. As if to prove that insanity to you, he falls to his knees at your feet, grabbing onto your legs tightly. "Don't leave me. I can't live without you."

"Go home, Beomgyu.” You grit out, trying to hold yourself back from falling for his pathetic display because truthfully you’re just as pathetic as him. It’s easy to be stern and immovable when he’s angry and lashing out, but it’s another thing entirely when he acts so vulnerable. When he’s angry, he’s an asshole who is hurting you, but when he’s sad, he’s your loving boyfriend who just needs reassurance and care. 

"I can't. Not without you.” He insists, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I need space, Beomgyu.” 

“You know I can’t–” 

“I need space to calm down and forget what you've done so I won't leave you." You snap, finally making him take his hands off you, realizing that though it kills him, backing off for once might be the thing that saves your relationship this time. 

Still he needs that extra reassurance. “Do you promise you won’t leave?” 

“Beomgyu–”

“Please!” He hiccups, hanging onto the thread of hope. “Please promise me that you won’t just leave.” 

“I won’t.” You grits out. You can’t. You wish it was ever that fucking easy to leave him, but he’s got you hooked on him good. 

"Okay." He gets up shakily. "Can I have a kiss?"

Does he not know how to quit? Has he no sense of awareness of the situation? Can’t he tell how much he has pushed you? "No."

You try to be firm in your decision, try to make him take you seriously once and for all, but when you see him sniffle and his lips tremble, it’s hard to stay strong. 

"Please. Just in case." He shakes under your harsh gaze that softens every time his breath hitches as he tries to hold himself together. 

God, this is exactly why he behaves this way, because it always works. 

You grab him by the back of the head, kissing his lips roughly, more teeth than anything, biting down on his lower lip in punishment, hard enough to taste blood, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. He clutches onto you desperately, opening his mouth up for you to thrust your tongue inside, making him taste his own blood. 

It’s a job to get him off you, but eventually you manage to disentangle yourself from him. “Go home now.” 

“Will you come home after work?” He prods, and you run your hand through your hair in frustration. “Is this giving me space?” 

“I just–” 

“I’ll be home by bedtime. I’ll probably walk around or hang out with friends to decompress.” You explain to him, even though you know you really shouldn’t. He has no right to know where you’re going, not after the shit he just pulled but you know he won’t leave you if you don’t reassure him. 

“Which friends? Are you going to–” 

“I have to get back to work, Beomgyu.” You cut him off sharply, unwilling to give him more. Truthfully, you don’t even know what you’ll do. You don’t know if you even wanna hang out with your friends. You can’t handle them telling you ‘I told you so’ for the hundredth time and pushing you to break up with Beomgyu. “I know you want me to get fired so I only have time for you but I actually wanna keep this job.”

He winces at your accusation but you don’t wait for him to defend himself, turning your back on him and walking into the coffee shop. 

Getting back into work is mortifying as you try to dodge the gazes of others that are at best curious and at worst judgmental and accusatory. Most of all, you try to avoid Taehyun, not knowing what to say to him after he witnessed your boyfriend’s outburst against him. 

But it’s hard to hide in such a small shop, and Taehyun is on you just a few minutes after stepping back inside. To your surprise however, he isn’t angry or reproachful. In fact, he doesn’t mention it directly at all.

“Hey you wanna blow off some steam after work?” He asks you, completely casual and you breathe a sigh of relief, nodding. You really could use some stress relief. You know you can’t go home to Beomgyu like this. You’re so mad you’re afraid you’ll do or say something you regret. 

What worries you even more is that you think whatever you would do to him, Beomgyu would take it, and you don’t want to be that person. You don’t want to perpetuate this sickness. 

________________________________

Taehyun takes you boxing. It’s definitely a bit unusual but when he said it would help you blow off some steam, he wasn’t kidding. 

“Hit it harder. Take out all your rage onto it.” Taehyun instructs you, then adds cheekily, “Imagine it’s your boyfriend’s face if you need to.” 

You scoff. If Beomgyu was here, he’d definitely lose it with how close Taehyun is to you, his hands fluttering between your waist and shoulder to correct your position, and wrapping around your arms to teach you how to correctly swing. 

“Like that?” You ask, punching the bag the way he taught you to. You’re not strong enough to have it swinging like he does, but he still praises you for doing it right. 

“Yup, good job. Soon enough you’ll be able to deck Beomgyu in the face.” He jokes and you send him a glare. 

“I don’t want to punch Beomgyu.” You say, delivering another hard swing at the punching bag, putting your full weight into it. 

“Are you sure about that?” He raises his eyebrows, watching you pummel the bag. 

“I’m just frustrated.” You grit, raining punches with both fists until you feel your arms getting sore. “Why does he have to act like such an asshole? He knows I love him. He knows he’s the only one for me. Why is he so insecure? He’s such a fucking idiot. He makes me so goddamn mad!”

You step away from the bag, panting for breath. Clumsily, you push away the sweaty hair out of your face with the gloves still on as you try to calm down your overheated body. “You’re right. This did help.” 

You give the bag one last punch before you take off the boxing gloves and slump onto a chair, exhaustion settling into your bones. You hear Taehyun snicker as he takes your place and starts his exercise. 

You watch him workout. You admit, he looks good doing it. Dressed in a white sleeveless top, his muscles bulge and tense every time his arms shoot forward to smack the bag. The look of concentration on his face and the way his jaw clenches makes him look all the hotter. 

His punches are fast and accurate, and you cringe a bit at the idea of someone being at the receiving end of them, but you still find it attractive. You never got the appeal of the strong, macho man some girls swoon over, always preferring the soft cute types yourself, but watching Taehyun go to town on that punching bag, sweat starting to drip down his glistening skin… you finally get it. 

Apparently, your ogling wasn’t as subtle as you thought, especially when Taehyun pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing his hard abs to your curious eyes. 

“Like what you see?” Taehyun smirks, dropping the shirt back down and you blush, looking away. “Bet he doesn’t look like this.” 

“Shut up.” You grumble, standing up. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?” 

You realize how dry your throat has become and take it as an advantage to get out of this messy situation you’ve gotten yourself in. But Taehyun shakes his head. “You stay put. I’ll go get the drinks.” 

You graciously accept the offer, telling him what you’d like to have, and he dips out of the practice room to get you something out of the vending machine and you take the opportunity to cool off. 

God, what is wrong with you? Do you like Taehyun? Why the fuck are you thirsting like that over him? Ever since you’ve gotten with Beomgyu, you can honestly say you’ve never wanted to be with another man. Beomgyu just fulfilled all your needs, emotionally and physically. Being with him felt like finally finding your other half, your soul’s resting place. It’s cliche but it truly felt like you were made for each other. How can anyone else compare? 

But now that his jealousy and controlling behavior has gotten out of control, you find yourself pulling away from him, the illusion of the perfect one for you slowly shattering by his own hand. Is that why you’re having these weird feelings towards Taehyun? Like Beomgyu, you feel like you’re connected to Taehyun somehow. Despite the relatively short duration you’ve known him, it feels like you’ve known each other for years. You yearn for him in a way you have no control over and you don’t like it. You’re just proving Beomgyu right with his unhinged paranoia. 

Seriously, fuck Beomgyu for putting these thoughts into your head. You were completely fine with Taehyun before he made a big deal out of nothing. 

When Taehyun comes back, he hands you a can of soda and you gladly pop it open, gulping down the cool liquid with relief. 

“So when did you start boxing?” You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his Adam's apple bops as he swallows. 

“Since I was a kid basically.” He shrugs, explaining further at your questioning look. “I didn’t have the best home life and boxing helped me blow off some steam and got me away from it for a bit.”

“Ah.” You hum awkwardly, twirling the can in your hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve left it behind now, trying to make a life of my own. That is why I was so glad that you told me about the job at the cafe. It’s a chill job that allows me to make some money to support myself and still be able to pursue my studies.” 

“Right. Music. Didn’t peg you for that guy. I mean, boxing sure but didn’t think you’re the artistic type.” You grin, feeling a bit giddy at his faux offended look. 

“Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He defends, “And I’ve been told I have the voice of an angel.” 

“Someone's humble.” You laugh, and he shrugs. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.” 

“Let’s hear it then, angel.” 

He gives you a look at that, and you open your mouth to apologize, not sure if you’d crossed a line, but then he coughs, clearing his throat a bit and starts to sing. 

I know that sweet love song

The words we said through our oath

If I turn around, eventually

They'll just end up being an unfamiliar someone

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I want to run away, far away

My heart is already chasing after you

And burning with small embers

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic

I don't believe anymore in being romantic

As my entire heart burns

I'm afraid that only black ashes will remain

He really does have the voice of an angel, so sweet and soothing. You listen quietly to the whole song, a small smile on your face despite the song’s pessimistic message. But something about his voice tugs at a distant memory in your brain, the feeling like a word on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t quite remember. It’s a disquieting feeling that clashes with the sweet honey of his voice. 

You don’t let it show though. You know he wouldn’t understand. And once he’s done singing, you clap enthusiastically. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” He graciously accepts the applause, a pleased grin on his face. 

“Wonderful. Showstopping. Angelic.” You pour out exaggeratedly and he laughs. “I told you.” 

“You did.” You admit, no point teasing him about his cockiness when you like his voice so much. “I never heard that song before. Did you write it yourself?” 

“Yup.” 

“Now I get how you’re into music if your songs are this dejected.” But you can tease him about the subject matter. You’re impressed with his talent but if you had to come up with a song that Taehyun would compose, it would’ve sounded exactly like this. 

“I’m just being a realist.” He tells you and you cock your head to the side, intrigued. “You don’t believe in romance?”

“No. I’ve seen how it goes too many times and it always ends in heartbreak and tears at best.” 

You frown, finding it sad that his experiences have made him arrive at this bleak conclusion. “It’s not always like that. Some people have happy relationships.” 

“Yeah, do you know of anyone who has an actually happy relationship?”He challenges and you wrack your brain trying to think of one. Your parents? Definitely not. Your sisters? Nope. Your friends? Hah. Still, you refuse to admit it. You’re a hopeless romantic and you refuse to accept his cynical worldview. If love only ever ends in heartbreak then what even is the point of living? “Just because the people I know aren’t the poster children for happy relationships doesn’t mean there are none.” 

“Are you even happy with Beomgyu?” He prods, catching you off guard. 

You were. Things were perfect between you. He was the best boyfriend you could have ever wished for at the beginning. He was so sweet and loving and gentle, being with him felt like coming home, but slowly things started to unravel until it got to the point you’re at right now and you’re too scared to admit that things may never go back to the way they were before. If Beomgyu isn’t the one for you then who is? 

“Shut up and sing more.” You grumble, not wanting to think about it anymore.

Taehyun grins, not pushing anymore, satisfied with his win, and obliges you. He sings a couple more songs for you, each of his own making, and you eagerly listen to him, closing your eyes and getting lost in the warmth of his voice, asking for more every time he finishes. 

He doesn’t complain, performing a mini-concert for you, helping soothe your nerves as you try to focus on his soothing voice and forget about the troubles you’ve been going through with Beomgyu and your confusing feelings for Taehyung.

But all the tension ricochets back into your body when he gets to the fourth song, the small smile you were wearing plummets into a frown and you sit up from your slumped position suddenly. You don’t know what it is about this song. It appears to be a simple lullaby, but just hearing it makes your heart hammer in your chest. 

Taehyun notices quickly and stops singing. “What’s wrong?” 

“Did you make up that song too?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No, it’s a song my mum used to sing me when I was a kid. Why?”

“I don’t know, something about it seems familiar.” You trail off, eyebrows furrowing as you try to recall where you heard it before. 

“I doubt it. My mum made it up.” He says, confused by your sudden change in mood. 

You’re confused too. You don’t understand. You just have this intense feeling of deja vu right now, something you’ve been feeling increasingly more frequently lately. Maybe you heard it in a dream? 

You shake your head, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and needing comfort, needing Beomgyu… “Never mind. I should probably get going.” 

You’re mad at him but he’s still the biggest source of comfort for you. He has a way to calm you down even if he’s the one who caused your anxiety. It all works out when it’s just the two of you. It’s only when other people get involved that everything falls apart…

“Already?” Taehyun asks, disappointed, and you look at the clock that says 10:46 pm and sigh. “Yeah. Beomgyu is probably freaking out by now. Even more than he already was.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to him then. You need some proper time away to think things through. You can’t let him keep getting away with this behavior.” He advises, his expression betraying his clear distaste for Beomgyu. Great, another friend who despises your boyfriend. You can’t deal with this right now. 

“He’s just insecure.” You find yourself defending him once again, feeling weary and covering your face with your hands. “I don't know why. it's not like every guy that ever meets me will fall in love with me. You don't even like me.” 

"I do like you." Taehyun says simply and you snap your head up and gape at him. "What?"

He shrugs as if this doesn’t fuck everything up even more. "I like you and I think you deserve better than your shitty boyfriend."

You shake your head, standing up, feeling angry at yourself. Of course, he likes you. Beomgyu smelled it from a mile away. Why else would he be so nice to you? Why else would he care so much to hang out with you and calm you down when he’s probably tired from his shift? This was obviously a mistake and you’re a stupid girl who is playing into it while your boyfriend is probably breaking down at home. "Beomgyu is a good boyfriend. He loves me." 

Taehyun stands up too, getting a bit forceful now. “You’re deluding yourself. What he’s doing isn’t healthy, and he’ll only continue to get worse because you let him.” 

What does he know? How do you know he’s not just trying to break you up with your boyfriend so he could get with you? Beomgyu probably could tell that Taehyun liked you from the start and that’s why he was so averse to you being around him. Obviously that doesn’t excuse how out of pocket he acted today but he still wasn’t completely wrong. 

“I should go.” You mutter, quickly gathering your things. 

“Let me take you home then.” He offers and you snort. Yeah right, like that wouldn’t make Beomgyu’s brain melt. 

“I'll just take an uber.” 

Taehyun attempts to argue but you shut him down. 

_____________________________

Beomgyu is waiting near the door when you get back, curled up onto himself as he rocks back and forth, looking like a broken mess, and your heart can’t help but clench painfully at the miserable sight of him despite everything he’s done. You can’t bear to see him hurt, especially knowing that Taehyun liked you after all and he wasn’t being totally paranoid. 

"You're back!" He stops rocking and untangles his arms from his body. You see the tension in his body, like he wants to spring forward and take you in his arms but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. "I thought I lost you." 

"I'm right here." You sigh, opening your arms up, giving him the signal he needed to stand up and engulf you in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, baby–” He begins his long plea. You’ve heard it many times by now–he’s sorry he acted irrationally, he’s sorry he gets jealous and out of control, he promises he’ll do better– but you’re honestly not in the mood for it right now. You just want to pretend none of this happened tonight, least of all because you feel some kind of guilt over hanging out alone with Taehyun and letting him touch you when he secretly had feelings for you just like Beomgyu was afraid of. 

“Shut up, Beomgyu.” You grab his face and kiss him. 

He lets you do it. Beomgyu would never reject a kiss from you, but once your bruising kiss leaves his lips and travels to his jaw, he voices his concern. “Are you sure, princess? Don’t you wanna t-talk about it?” 

Princess? He’s bringing out the big guns. There is no use arguing with Beomgyu right now. You already know what he’s going to say so you bite down on his neck, making his breath hitch as your hands trail up his waist towards his nipples, rubbing them with your thumbs over the thin material of his shirt and making him gasp. “Just shut up and be good for once, Beomgyu. Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t even think about how mad I am at you right now.” 

You feel him gulp under your lips, and the next thing you know he is carrying you by your ass and dropping you onto the couch. He quickly takes off every shred of fabric on your body, following suit, before he gets on the ground in front of you and buries his face in your pussy. 

Beomgyu is a very talented lover, especially with his tongue. He knows exactly what to do to get you going, and right now is no different. He eats you out as if he can convince you to stay just by using his mouth, and you have to admit, it is very persuasive. 

“Fuck, Gyu. Good boy.” You praise, encouraging him to do more, your hand in his hair guiding his mouth to where you want him. He eagerly lets you control him, pushing his tongue into your pussy while his lips pucker and suck around your hole. 

You feel yourself clench around his tongue, more of your arousal leaking around it until it covers his chin and parts of his cheeks. You pull his head up, whining as his tongue slips out of your pussy, but he quickly relieves the feeling of emptiness by pushing his fingers inside you, curling them up to hit that sensitive spot inside you that has you keening. 

He wasn’t going to be slow tonight, and you don’t want that. You cry as his mouth finds a new target in your clit, alternating between sucking it in his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, all while his fingers plunge in and out of you until you’re creaming on his face. 

“That’s it! Fuck, that’s it, baby.” You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as your body shudders at the intense orgasm. Fuck, you needed this. 

Beomgyu doesn’t care about how hard you’ve got his hair fisted up in your hand. He keeps hungrily licking your pussy, not letting your arousal completely fade even as your orgasm passes. 

“Baby, wait, give me a second–” You gasp, feeling sensitive, and when Beomgyu pulls away you think he’ll give you break, but instead he pushes you down until you’re laying on your back on the couch and gets on top of you, lining his cock with your entrance 

“Wait–Beomgyu!” You cry as he shoves his cock inside of you, beginning to fuck you right away, not giving you a moment to breathe or calm down. 

“There you go, princess. Is this what you wanted?” He pants, hips slamming against yours as he fucks you roughly. 

It was what you wanted but you’re not sure now. You need a moment. “Baby, slow down…” You whine, your eyes squeezed tightly which Beomgyu doesn’t like. 

“Slow down? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you can’t think about how mad you are at me.” He taunts, slamming his hips against yours, his cock going so deep inside you you feel like you’re going to choke. Normally, you’d fucking love it but it’s suddenly too much for you. 

You shake your head, holding tightly onto his upper arms. “Please, baby, just slow down!”

But Beomgyu only fucks you harder. “Open your eyes, princess. Look at me while I’m fucking you.” 

“Beomgyu–” You beg but he seems too far gone, not realizing that you’re being serious. You feel a harsh smack against your thigh and he growls down at you. “Open your eyes.”  

You do, hardly seeing him with the tears in your eyes, but what you see scares you. “Gyu–”

“Am I fucking you hard enough? Or does my princess need me to fuck her dumb until she sees only me?” 

No, no. This is exactly what you asked for, but somehow it doesn’t feel good. The wildness of Beomgyu’s eyes, the roughness of his hands, don’t assure you of his need and devotion to you as always. Instead, they speak of a need to own, a desire to subjugate you or tear you apart. It fucking terrifies you. 

And suddenly, intrusive images come to mind. Images of bound limbs and golden suits, tears and anger. Images of Beomgyu forcing himself on you as you lie helpless and beg him to stop. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, shocked at what your mind is conjuring up. It’s not real but it feels real. You feel violated and scared and you just want it to stop. "Stop. Stop!"

“No. Don’t be a brat. You can take it.” Beomgyu chastises, still lost in his own head, the pleasure clouding his mind and not letting him see your pathetic state. 

“No. I can’t. Please. ” You sniffle, shaking your head weakly. 

“Don’t cry. You’ve made me wait so long for this pussy.” Prince Beomgyu drives his dick into you harder, making sure you’re fully deflowered.  "Take it. You were made for me. You can take it."

The images of prince Beomgyu looming over you just like he is right now, being so relentless and cruel as he takes what he wants from you are all you can see in front of you. It’s not a dream anymore. You’re wide awake, so why can you see them as if they were your own memories? God are you going crazy?

“Beomgyu?” You croak, trying to reach him through the images and his crazed headspace.

“I swear if you don’t shut the fuck up, I won’t bother being gentle.”

You quickly clamp your mouth shut at the ghostly threat, stopping any noise from getting out, stopping even your breathing, and that finally alerts Beomgyu to what is going on. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He stops moving and reaches out to touch you but you flinch. 

“Don’t touch me.” You cry, the damn breaking down and allowing tears to stream down your face. 

“What happened? Oh god. I didn’t know you were serious.” Beomgyu’s face goes pale and he looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Get off me. Get off me.” You wail, pushing him away. He pulls out of you but doesn’t get off, wrapping you in his arms and trying to get you to calm down. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. You’re okay. You’re okay. I love you.” He coos, trying to sound reassuring but you can hear the panic and fear in his voice as he cradles you and rocks you back at forth, not paying any mind to you clawing at his back as you try to break free, letting you sob and cry until you tire yourself out and slowly, slowly down. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re safe with me. I’ll never leave.” 

His words of reassurance fail to have the effect he desires. Instead of soothing you, you find them suffocating and inescapable. You feel like you’ve been here many times before, each time adding to the heaviness of that oppressive weight pushing down on you until you don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. You just fall limp in his arms, and he finally pulls back to look at you. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and swipes away the drying tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. I didn’t mean to.” 

"I’m sorry. I just…” Prince Beomgyu struggles to find the words for a second. “I had to do what I had to do to keep you.” 

You shiver, looking away from him. 

"What is it? What’s happening? What are you thinking?" He asks worriedly, wanting to get into your brain to figure out what caused your sudden breakdown, needing to know so he can convince you it’s nothing like he always does. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumble, monotone. You’re fucking exhausted and traumatized. You feel like you’ve been violated. You just want to go to sleep and not wake up. 

“Baby, please, just talk to me. I can fix it.” 

You glare at him. “Fix it? As if you’ve ever taken my concerns seriously. You’d just tell me it’s all in my head and–” You shut yourself up. You don’t want to talk to him about this. It hurts enough when he dismisses your dreams normally. It would fucking kill you if he made light of what you just experienced, even if it was all in your head.  

Surprisingly, in a move totally unlike him, Beomgyu relents. “I take you seriously. You don’t even know.” He says, head bowed sadly. “It’s you who doesn’t.”

What does that even mean? Is he talking about his jealousy over Taehyun? Yes, you admit he may have been right about that but there are many other things he was wrong about. But you don’t have the energy to get into it right now. 

“Take me to bed.”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, head bowed as he carries you in his arms and takes you to bed, putting you under the sheets and climbing in next to you. 

“I never want to hurt you.” He murmurs, taking you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. You shiver at his choice of words. 

Never wants to hurt you. Not is never going to hurt you. 

__________________________

A/N: lol I was supposed to do this early release on patreon but here is a surprise. as always i really appreciate any feedback. whenever I am going through hard times I keep reverting back to missing yamqn gyu and wishing for him to comfort him despite how objectively terrible he is :'D

once again

[froggiewrites]

Baby You're a Haunted House

Pairing: Ghost!Bartolomeo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Your house doesn’t want you to leave. You feel insane for thinking it, but you know it’s true. And after your keys go missing, trapping you here for the foreseeable future, you can’t help but finally crack and let the house know this has to stop. You don’t expect a handsome man to appear to dry your tears and beg you not to leave, with hands as cold as ice and pleading eyes. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Ghost Sex, Temperature Play, Cockwarming, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Talk/Behavior Word Count: 2.7k Halloween Special 2024

There is something wrong with your new house.

You had tried to convince yourself that you were simply on edge from living alone in such a large old house, that the creaking and bumps in the night were simply the house settling. But from the moment you moved in, you could feel eyes on you, and some part of you knew that you were being watched. If it were only that feeling, you could dismiss it, tell yourself you were being paranoid.

But then your things started moving.

At first it was only small things. Your hairbrush moved a few inches to the right. A drawer left a little open when you could have sworn you had closed it. The clothes swore you laid out the night before tucked amongst your dirty laundry, wrinkled as though someone had held them. Your keys becoming frequently misplaced, never where you last left them. It was always something tiny to delay you from leaving, as though the house was begging you to stay in whatever ways it knew how. You were late to work more than a few times, and you could tell your boss was starting to get pissed about it. And really, you know your explanations sound like bullshit excuses, but you can’t really say, “Sorry I’m late, I think my house is haunted and the ghost doesn’t want me to leave.”

But today, finally, a line has been crossed, and you can’t ignore it anymore. Your car keys aren’t moved. They haven’t fallen to the floor, they aren’t on a different table than you left them on. They’re gone. You have searched every place you could possibly have left them, and they are simply nowhere to be seen. You’re forced to call your boss and tell them you aren’t coming in to work today, and they’re, of course, horribly displeased. But you have no choice. You’re stuck here until someone can come rekey it, and that will take at least a few hours and a hundred bucks, if not more. You don’t exactly have a lot of time or money to spare right now.

There are tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, though you can’t tell if they’re from rage, stress, or simply from being overwhelmed. No matter where they’re from, the hiccuping sobs force their way through you, demanding more air than you have to give as you slide to the floor, pressing your palms into your eyes with so much force you start to see stars. You can’t keep dealing with this. You can feel the eyes on you even now.

“I’m not insane,” you mutter to yourself through your tears, as any sane person would.

The house doesn’t answer.

“Why are you doing this? What did I do to you?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic. You were so tired. So tired of never feeling alone. Of constantly worrying that tomorrow would be the day your boss finally got tired of this and fired you, and you’d be stuck all alone in this big house waiting for the moment it decided to finish doing whatever it wanted to you. “I can’t afford to lose my job.”

A floorboard creaks.

“I can’t spend an hour looking for my clothes every morning.”

A cold overtakes the room.

“I can’t keep putting off showers because I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched.”

The light above you flickers.

“I can’t keep doing this. I really, really can’t. I can’t afford to move.”

“Please don’t leave.” The voice is deep, panicked, and desperate. You flinch, finally opening your eyes, and you’re not quite surprised to see that you aren’t alone in the room. There is a man towering over you, shirt hanging open and tattoos on display. His teeth are sharp, and he looks like he could bite you in two, but his eyes are pleading as he leaves toward you. A chill creeps over you as he gets closer. “I didn’t want to make you leave. I’m sorry.”

“Who are you?”

“Uh, my name’s Bartolomeo. Nice to meet you?”

You look up at him, tears still spilling down your cheeks. “Why do you keep taking my things?”

He clears his throat, looking away in embarrassment. “I–uh–I didn’t want you to leave.”

“Why?”

“You’re so–I–” His cheeks are red. “I wanted you to stay. Gets lonely without you. I was used to bein’ alone, but when you showed up I realized how nice it can be, havin’ someone around.”

“Someone lived here before me.”

“They weren’t you.” He says it like it’s obvious.

“Why didn’t you show yourself until now?”

His shoulders tense a little, eyes shifting away again. He mumbles quietly, “I was nervous.”

“Nervous?” You stare at him in silence for a moment as he quietly crumples under your gaze. “About?”

“What if you got freaked out and left, and I never saw you again? What if you didn’t wanna live in a haunted house?” His next question is quiet, voice soft and vulnerable. “What if you just didn’t like the way I looked and you ran?”

“That wouldn’t happen. The last one, I mean. The first two are pretty reasonable concerns, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. So I figured I’d just…try to keep you for a little longer. I didn’t think I was hurting anything. I really am sorry about that. I–I didn’t wanna make you cry.” His voice wobbles, and you can’t help but soften.

“But why hide my things if you knew I’d always come back? I know it must get a little boring while I’m at work, but I spend more time at home anyway.”

“What if you didn’t this time? What if this time you left and that was it?” His hand reaches for yours, and you expect him to pass through you like in the movies, but his fingers intertwine with yours. They’re freezing, but they’re solid. “I’d go crazy wonderin’ what happened to you.”

You stare where you make contact with amazement. “You can touch me.”

“Hm?”

“I–I didn’t think you’d be able to.” 

He stares at your hands for a moment, his mouth slightly agape, before he looks up at your face. His other hand brushes briefly over your hair before settling on your cheek, cupping it with affection. “I didn’t think I could either. I–I never tried.” He can’t hide his awe. “You’re so warm.”

“You’re freezing.” You place a hand on his chest, trying to feel if his heart still beats, if his body still goes through the motions of life. He seems to still be breathing, but that could just be instinct. You find no pulse between your fingers, just cold skin that slowly warms to your touch. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“It was at first. You get numb to it after a few years.”

You try to imagine years of this, of an icy creeping chill that never seems to leave, all alone in this big old house as life happens around you. You can’t feel a trace of your earlier anger, just sympathy that rises from somewhere deep within your chest. “Do you…want to be warm?”

“I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you want me to help with that?”

He looks at you with the same kind of reverence most would reserve for a god. Almost instantly tears threaten to pour over his lashes as he stares at you, slack jawed. “Are–Are you bein’ serious? You really mean it?”

You pull him forward by the shirt, wrapping your free hand around him. You had intended to simply hug him, but he tumbles forward, pinning you beneath him. He groans quietly at the sensation of your warmth flowing into him, the closest thing he’s had to life since he lost his. He lets go of your hand to wrap his arms fully around you, burying his nose in your neck. He drinks in everything you’re willing to give him, a softness he has never known and a kindness he hasn’t received in a very, very long time.

You lay together for a while, just feeling his skin heat up from your touch. He slides his hands under the back of your shirt to warm them up faster, causing you to shiver from the chill on your spine. They don’t wander, simply running up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your goosebumps beneath his fingertips.

Then his lips brush against your neck.

“Bartolomeo?”

“Sorry, I just–they were cold too,” he says, unconvincingly. “A lot of me still is.” He shifts his legs, and you feel something pressing into your thigh.

“Oh! I, um–”

“Please, sweetheart. We don’t have to–uh. I don’t have to move. Just let me feel how hot you are, please.” His words come out as a desperate whine, one that makes your heart squeeze. It’s a bad idea, surely. But he sounds so horribly sad, so lonely, and he needs you.

“Okay.” Your hands reach for his belt.

He beats you to it, ripping off your pants and panties before your hands are even halfway to your destination, and his belt and pants come off before you make contact. You expect him to slam into you, but instead he inserts one finger slowly, still a little cold but much warmer after being tucked against you. You let out a soft gasp at the sensation, and he whispers in your ear. “Just makin’ sure you’re ready. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m ready,” you squeak out as you clench around his finger. Instead of stopping, he pumps once, twice, then inserts a second when he’s sure you can take it.

“Wanna be sure.” His fingers move slow and steady, working you up just enough to take three. When he finally deems you properly prepped, he pulls out his fingers, inserting them into his mouth and sucking your juices off of them with a moan. He aligns your hips up with his before plunging into you, immediately groaning at the heat and tightness surrounding him. You gasp at the sudden cold of his cock, legs kicking out instinctively, but he holds you tight so you can’t move an inch. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’ll just take a second to adjust. No need to run.”

“C–Cold!” You hiss, and he holds you impossibly tighter, every inch of you pressed against him.

“I know. You can fix that. You don’t have to try to run away.” He buries his face against you again. “You don’t have to leave.”

You can feel your nipples hardening from the cold, brushing against his chest in a way that sends little jolts of pleasure down your spine as you clench around him. He moans quietly into your hair, but he keeps his hips still. You sit, entirely still, slowly feeling your warmth leave you and leech into him. He makes quiet noises of pleasure as he savors the feeling, the facsimile of life you’ve gifted him.

“Thank you for this,” he murmurs. His icy lips brush against your hair, your cheek, your lips, your neck. His hands rub over your back and sides, every movement dripping with gratitude. “I thought I’d never get to feel this again. Thank you.”

As his attention continues, you find it harder and harder to sit still. He’s slowly growing warm inside of you, and his hands are rough as they brush against your tender spots. Your nipples rub against his chest, as he still refuses to allow you to part for even a second. Once his hands reach your thighs, you can’t take it anymore, and you allow your hips to twitch, giving you the slightest amount of relief. His fingers dig into your thighs as he grunts quietly, trying to ground himself.

“You’re testing me, sweetheart, please.”

“Please, please, move.” You sound absolutely pathetic, wanton and begging, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You just can’t stand all of the sensations, so much but not enough.

He sucks in a breath, steadying himself for a moment, before he responds with a sharp grin. “Of course. Anything for you.”

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feeling of you rubbing against him, before he plunges back in furiously fast, making you cry out. His hands reach for your hips, bouncing you furiously against him as his mouth reaches for your neck. His sharp teeth nip lightly against you, never enough to hurt but certainly enough to mark. The delicate scrape of his canines, still icy cold, combined with his thrusting overwhelms you, making you reach desperately for anything to ground you. You settle for his hair, intertwining your fingers and tugging with every new bite mark he leaves on your skin. He groans as you do, clearly savoring the sensation. Pain is usually saved for the living. What a gift for him to feel it now at your hands.

His pace is unrelenting, the room filled with the sound of skin slapping and your moans, slowly growing louder as he works you up. One hand remains on your hip as the other reaches for your clit, pressing it with shaking fingers. You don’t know if his hesitation is from nervousness or inexperience, but either way he seems to find his footing quickly, allowing your sounds to guide him. As your moans grow, his pace becomes unsteady as he struggles to maintain his rhythm.

“Oh, god,” he whispers. “Those noises, I–You’re killin’ me.” You open your mouth to try to make a joke about it, something about being the first man to die twice, but he hits a particularly sweet spot and you can say nothing other than his name, which only makes him pound into you harder. You’re so overwhelmed you can hardly think at this point, your world and mind filled with nothing but him.

Your pleasure builds quickly, all of the sensations working in harmony to bring you to your climax. You clench around him, feeling as though you’re falling and his hand on your hip is the only thing keeping you grounded. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, ensuring he has wrung every bit of pleasure for you that he can before he releases, groaning into your hair as his cum paints your walls. The sensation is strange, not as chilly as the air around you but colder than anything that would come out of a human. You cannot help but be incredibly aware of every drop as it slowly warms inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, or pull away from you. He pulls you closer once again, pressing your chests together and tenderly kissing you on the lips. “Thank you.”

You laugh quietly. “No one’s ever thanked me for sex before.”

“Not just–well. For that too.” He stumbles over his words a bit, struggling to articulate his feelings. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel alive again.”

“And do you?”

“Hm?”

“Feel alive?”

He gives you a toothy grin. “More than I have in years. If I didn’t know any better I’d think my heart was pounding right now.”

Your hand rests on his chest. It’s moving from his heavy breathing, but there’s still no beat underneath your fingers. You take one of his hands and place it right over your heart, fluttering rapidly. “That’s alright. Mine’s working hard enough for both of us.”

He grins. “Does that mean you’re willin’ to share?”

There’s a heavy implication beneath his words, one you aren’t sure of. But his eyes are so pleading, and he looked so horribly lonely when you first saw him, and something inside of you is whispering that he needs you, only you. So you smile softly, affectionately, “I could be convinced.”

He grins, all teeth. “I can be very convincing.” He kisses you again, a little more demanding this time. “And we can have all of the time in the world for me to do it, if you just stay.”

As his teeth graze your neck again, you get the feeling you won’t be leaving for quite some time.

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