#and god do i miss being in that audience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heejake-hoon · 2 months

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Milked in the Stacks

CW: Dom!Heeseung x sub!Jake x sub!afab!reader, threesome, face fucking, mxm actions, messy make out, facials, names calling (slut, whore...etc), creampie, a bit of breeding kink (if you squint) and more WC: 4,159 (of pure filth and nastiness) A.N: I had thoughts about this while being on the plane nd couldn't stop thinking about it, so enjoy. Also this is my first time writing threesome/mxm so don't have high expectations.

You shift awkwardly at your desk, the dull scribble of your pen filling the dimly lit library. It's late - too late for anyone to really be here, especially on a Friday night. But you're a diligent student, working hard towards that 4.0 GPA. Even if it means missing out on the raucous parties just a few blocks away.

The muffled thump of bass drums reach your ears, barely audible through the thick stone walls. You roll your eyes. Typical of the frat crowd to be so obnoxiously loud. Your mind wanders to the rumors about the jocks and meatheads that dominate Greek life on campus. Drunken debauchery, orgies, hazing rituals…you shudder at the thought.

A loud bang makes you jump, quill skidding across the page. Two figures stumble into the library, all tangled limbs and sloppy kisses. You quickly avert your eyes, but can't help but sneak another peek.

It's Heeseung and Jake - the hottest guys at your college. Heeseung is a senior, the quintessential frat boy stud. Rumpled peachy hair, broad shoulders tapering down to slim hips. Jake is the opposite - an unassuming sophomore from the honor society, glasses askew and baby face flushed red.

You've had a crush on the two of them for ages, despite their completely different social circles. Heeseung practically oozes effortless charisma and sex appeal. While Jake's innocent demeanor stirs a protective urge deep inside you.

Your thighs clench involuntarily as Heeseung pushes the smaller man against the bookshelves, grinding their clothed erections together. Why are they doing this here? A small, neglected part of your brain whispers hopefully that maybe, just maybe, it's for your benefit.

Jake lets out a breathy moan, quickly muffled by Heeseung's demanding mouth. They're really getting into it, completely oblivious to your wide-eyed stare. You should leave, right? Give them some privacy? But you're utterly transfixed, squirming in your seat.

Heeseung pulls back with a cocky grin. "You want it that bad, baby? Right here in the fucking library?" His voice is a low, gruff murmur, dripping with lust.

Jake whimpers, nodding eagerly. "Please, need you…"

Your panties are absolutely soaked at this point. Why do you feel like you're the one being teased instead? Heeseung's piercing gaze flits over to your corner, finally noticing your presence.

Rather than looking embarrassed, his signature smirk only grows wider. No, he looks…predatory. You freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. This can't be happening. Not to you, the innocent bookworm who wouldn't know what to do with a hot guy like that if you tried.

Except Heeseung doesn't give you a choice. In one smooth motion, he's sauntering over to your desk, chest puffed and knees swaggering. Jake quickly follows behind, smoothing his rumpled shirt and looking deliciously debauched.

"Well, well…looks like we've got an audience," Heeseung drawls, looming over your pitiful scribbles. Your throat is dry, heart pounding in your chest.

He leans in close, the crisp scent of his cologne and something muskier making your head spin. "You've been a naughty girl, watching us like a fucking pervert."

Jake's face is burning crimson beside you, seemingly conflicted between embarrassment and arousal. God, the two of them are gorgeous. You want them so bad, have fantasized about this very situation more times than you can count.

But you never imagined it would actually happen. And you're utterly paralyzed, heat pooling steadily between your legs.

"I think she liked what she saw, Jakey," Heeseung continues darkly. He grips your chin roughly, tilting your face up to meet his blown-out gaze. "Doesn't she look so pretty? All innocent and shit. Makes me wanna fuck her up. What do you think?"

Jake swallows thickly, shifting closer. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. His shy, hesitant voice sends delicious tingles down your spine.

"H-Heeseung…I don't know if we should…" But he doesn't protest any further as the older man captures your lips in a searing, demanding kiss. You're frozen in shock as Heeseung's lips move insistently against yours. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your mouth, demanding entry. You can't help but gasp, allowing the velvet muscle to delve inside and map every warm, wet crevice.

The frat boy kisses with a bruising intensity, like he's trying to devour you whole. One large hand fists in your hair, angling your head for deeper control. You moan shamelessly into his mouth, the sweet taste of beer and something darker on his tongue.

An envious groan rumbles from Jake's chest. His hand comes to rest on your knee, squeezing needily. You jump at the contact, pulse fluttering beneath his soft fingertips. Feeling emboldened, he shifts forward, peppering feather-light kisses along the column of your exposed neck and shoulder.

You whine at the sensation, lashes fluttering. Jake and Heeseung work in tandem, overwhelming your senses with their contrasting techniques. One utterly dominant and demanding, the other achingly gentle and worshipful. It's dizzying, heat rapidly pooling between your thighs.

When the need for air becomes too great, Heeseung breaks away with a carnal growl. His pupils are blown out, lips wet and kiss-swollen. An obscene string of saliva connects you briefly before snapping. You're left panting, hair mussed and no doubt blushing furiously.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let out those pretty little whimpers for us," Heeseung rasps, voice like gravel. His hands roam down your body, caressing the curves he's clearly admired from afar. You whimper again as he cups your breast brazenly through your thin shirt, thumbing the sensitive peak.

Jake whines against the side of your neck, rutting minutely against your thigh. You can feel his impressive bulge straining against the tight denim, begging for friction. Some deeply repressed part of you wants to drop to your knees and release his thick length with your mouth. But you're utterly powerless, helplessly trapped between the two devastatingly handsome men.

"Let's get these clothes off, yeah?" Heeseung tugs impatiently at your shirt, lips quirking at your deliciously dazed expression. Jake gives you a look full of unspoken questions, silently asking your consent. You bite your lip and nod, subtly arching your back to allow Heeseung to pull the fabric up and over your head.

The crisp library air raises goosebumps along your bare torso, peaked nipples hardening in anticipation. Heeseung hums appreciatively at the sight, hands splayed across the soft swell of your belly and ribs. He leans back to take you in, unashamed as his gaze roams over every dip and curve with rapacious hunger.

Jake lets out a shuddering sigh, breath fanning across the heated skin of your chest. His mouth latches on to your collarbone, sucking vibrant blooms of crimson and violet that'll surely last for days. The thought sends a thrill down your spine, claimed and marked by them both.

"You look so fucking good, pretty girl. All spread out just for us," Heeseung growls. He watches the display beside him with dark, hooded lids. A long, thick finger traces the outline of Jake's eager mouth, tugging his plump lower lip down obscenely. "Think I'll let my boy have his fun first. He was so cock hungry earlier, weren't you sweetheart?"

Jake flushes even deeper, pupils blown wide as he obediently sucks the digit into the scorching heat of his mouth. A hot flash of arousal streaks through you at the sight, your neglected pussy clenching with need. The smaller boy swirls his tongue around the offering reverently, lewd sucking noises filling the hush of the library.

You mewl softly as Jake diverts his attention back to you, trailing hot kisses across your chest and stomach before hovering over the waistband of your jeans. His eyes flick up to your face, pupils blown, silently seeking permission to continue this downward trajectory.

Heeseung chuckles darkly behind him, carelessly unfastening his own belt buckle. The metallic clink makes you jolt, nerves and arousal battling for dominance. "Go on, angel. Been waiting all night to get a taste of this pretty little pussy."

Heat rushes to your cheeks at his crude words, but you shakily nod. Jake's talented fingers make quick work of your jeans, tugging the restricting fabric down your trembling thighs and calves. You shift forward, lifting your hips to allow him to remove them fully, leaving you in just your simple cotton panties.

Heeseung groans, heavy cock straining against his boxer briefs. His large hand pumps the thick shaft slowly, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum gathering at the flushed tip. "Fuck, look at you. Such an obedient little slut, already dripping for us."

You whine at his filthy words, undeniably turned on despite your innocent demeanor. He's right - the flimsy material between your legs is absolutely soaked through, a dark spot betraying the evidence of your arousal. The scent of your desire hangs thick and heady in the air between you.

Jake doesn't hesitate, nuzzling his flushed cheek against the damp cotton. You gasp sharply at the contact, hips bucking up for more delicious friction. He mouths hungrily at your clothed sex, the tip of his tongue teasing along the seam in a featherlight facsimile of what's to come.

"There you go, Jakey…taste how fucking sweet she is."

Heeseung fists his hand in Jake's soft, honey blonde locks, guiding his eager mouth along your aching folds. You tremble beneath his reverent ministrations, head thrown back in pleasure. A tiny, overwhelmed part of you still can't quite believe this is truly happening. That the objects of your deepest, darkest fantasies are lavishing their attention upon you in such an illicit way.

"P-please…" you beg breathlessly, fingers scrabbling against the worn wooden desk beneath you. Your back arches as the smaller boy licks a broad, luxurious stripe up your slit through the damp cotton. "Want…need…"

"Poor baby, you're so worked up," Heeseung coos mockingly, thumbing the glistening head of his impressive length. "Don't worry…we'll give you exactly what you need."

With an obscene growl, he hooks his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, tugging them to the side in one sharp motion. Your glistening, swollen folds are finally exposed to the chilly air, flushed and weeping with need. You squirm under their focused gazes, suddenly shy and self-conscious.

Jake lets out a needy whine at the sight of your exposed sex. His breath ghosts over the glistening folds in hot puffs, close enough that you squirm from the sensation.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he rasps, voice deep and husky with lust. You moan softly as his velvet tongue laps at your slick folds experimentally.

Heeseung crowds closer, lazily stroking his thick length just inches from your face. "That's it, baby. Get her nice and messy for me."

You keen, throwing your head back as Jake seals his mouth over your entrance, that clever tongue working you open with broad, filthy strokes. He's utterly shameless, cheeks hollowed with effort as he suckles noisily at your essence. Wet squelching noises and your breathless whines fill the air.

Your hips roll in small, desperate circles, chasing more of that delicious friction. Jake accommodates readily, plush lips stretched obscenely around your aching clit. He lavishes the swollen bud with searing attention, flicking his tongue against it insistently.

"Oh-oh god…!" you sob out, trembling on the precipice of release. The coiling pleasure is exquisite, warmth blooming across your heated skin.

Heeseung chuckles smugly. He guides the weeping head of his cock to smear your lips with sticky pre-cum. You don't hesitate before opening obediently, suckling at the salty bead on your tongue. He groans approvingly, thrusting shallowly to paint your pretty mouth with his essence.

"Dirty girl…knew you'd be so good for us," he rumbles. His free hand slides into the tresses at your nape, tilting your head back further. You gag softly as the thick cockhead catches on your soft palate, thighs clenching around Jake's frantically working mouth.

Jake mewls desperately between your thighs, greedy for your impending climax. He looks utterly wrecked, hair mussed and lips red and swollen from his efforts. Yet he refuses to let up, dutifully fucking his dexterous little tongue into your sopping channel with fervor.

The orgasm slams into you with staggering force. You wail around Heeseung's cock, body convulsing as gushing waves of bliss crest over you. Jake laps greedily at the fresh rush of your arousal, glassy eyes screwed shut in concentration.

Heeseung ruts into the tight walls of your mouth, forcing you to swallow around his impressive length. Thick rivulets of drool and precum stream down your chin, lewd choking sounds tearing from your abused throat. Your head swims from overstimulation and lack of air.

"Ah fuck…keep going slut, take it all for me," he growls, hips snapping shallowly. Your makeup is utterly ruined, mascara streaking ebony trails down your cheeks. But you've never felt more debauched, more wanted in your entire life.

Just as your vision begins to darken around the edges, he pulls out with a guttural moan. His cock slaps wetly against your cheek, leaving a smear of pearly essence behind as the veiny shaft pulses. You suck in desperate gulps of air, blinking up at the frat stud through a lusty, tear-blurred gaze.

"Christ, you look like a fucking dream," he pants, roughly thumbing your spit-slick lower lip. "All messy and used up already."

Jake finally pulls away with an obscene slurp, a dazed and thoroughly fucked-out expression painting his features. His face glistens with your arousal, lips bitten red and wet. Heeseung turns his hooded gaze on him hungrily.

"Give it to me, sweetheart," he orders gruffly. Jake scrambles to obey, crawling up your body to desperately seal their lips together. You watch, transfixed, as Heeseung thoroughly plunders the other boy's mouth, no doubt tasting every musky essence lingering on Jake's skilled tongue…

You shudder at the filthy, indecent display unfolding before your very eyes. Jake is completely pliant and submissive, whimpering eagerly as Heeseung's thick fingers tangle roughly in his honey-blond hair. The ravenous kiss goes on and on, the wet sounds of their arduous french baiting and desperate groping drowning out all other noise.

Heeseung's molten gaze pins you in place with the weight of his carnal hunger. He reaches for you, large hands gripping the backs of your thighs in a bruising hold.

"Bend those pretty little legs for me, princess. Gonna show you just how fucking good I can make you feel," he growls, voice dripping with lust. You obey mindlessly, allowing him to tug you flush against his body, feet planted on the edge of the sturdy desk.

Your breath catches as the thick length of his cock drags along your dripping folds, spreading your arousal in silken streaks. Heeseung's lips quirk into that infuriating smirk as he watches your features contort with needy desperation.

With one powerful drive of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside your welcoming heat. Your back bows off the desk, a broken mewl torn from your chest as he stretches and fills you in one deliciously obscene thrust. Stars burst across your vision, tingling shockwaves of sensation radiating through your core.

"Fucking hell…gonna ruin this greedy little cunt," Heeseung hisses, voice tight with rapture. He wastes no time, immediately pounding into you with harsh, sharp strokes that knock breathy moans from your trembling lips.

Each powerful thrust makes your breasts jiggle enticingly, nipples peaked and aching for attention. You feel utterly split open and impaled on his cock, the velvet steel length rubbing torturous friction against your slick, spongy walls. Obscene squelches and gasps fill the library with every brutal slide.

Jake watches with rapt, shamelessly hungry eyes, his plush mouth gaped open. He strokes his own weeping length eagerly, precome drooling from the flushed head. Finally, he leans in and busies his talented tongue against Heeseung's flexing bollocks, kitten licking and sucking at the heavy, musky sac in a worshipful display.

"Ah yes…fuck…there's a good boy," Heeseung moans, snapping his hips into your fluttering heat with renewed vigor. He grips Jake's hair in a brutal fist, shoving his face more insistently against his saliva-slick balls.

The sordid visual is almost too much to bear, combined with the harsh pounding of your battered core. You're utterly suspended at the precipice, teetering on the knife's edge of blissful oblivion. Frantic whines and pleas tumble from your bruised pout shamelessly.

"Shh, gonna give you my cock like a good girl," Heeseung pants, hand drifting up to palm a hefty, swollen breast roughly. His rough palm captures your turgid nipple, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peak viciously. "Want to feel your sweet little cunt squeezing me when you cum…"

With one final, brutal snap of his hips, the barrage is too much. The frayed threads of your control snap as a blinding orgasm rocks through your very being. Back bowing off the desk like a taut cord, you cry out in shuddering bliss as rapturous pulses of euphoria convulse through your overstimulated form. Heeseung fucks you through each exquisite wave, working his cock into your fluttering spasms as your slick arousal splatters obscenely between your bodies.

He finally pulls out with a groan, thick shaft slick and gleaming with your combined essence. Jake instantly latches onto the glistening cockhead, tongue chasing every musky streak hungrily. Heeseung groans, harsh and guttural, forcing the smaller man to take his length deeper into his hollowed cheeks.

With one final shuddery gasp, his entire body seems to freeze for one endless, suspended moment. Jake's eyes flutter shut as thick ropes of pearly release are painted across his upturned features, a fresh mural of debasement and desire.

The depraved scene shifts before your lust-glazed eyes before Heeseung hauls you possessively onto his thick length once more, sheathing himself to the root inside your convulsing, creamy pussy with one brutal grind of his hips. You cry out, already feeling so deliriously full and claimed by his sheer virility.

Snarling in satisfaction, Heeseung grips the mounds of your ass cheeks in a bruising grip, starting up a punishing rhythm that has you jouncing up and down his cock obscenely. Wet squelching sounds and your breathless moans fill the library as he claims what's rightfully his.

But he's not done sharing the spoils with his smaller counterpart. Heeseung beckons Jake over with a curl of one thick finger, that predatory alpha glint in his eyes. The willowy blonde immediately crawls to obey, chest heaving with arousal at the lurid display.

"Open up for me, baby," Heeseung orders lowly. "Princess here is gonna get her pretty mouth just as fucked as her greedy little cunt."

He tugs on your hair sharply to guide your head back, exposing the line of your bruised throat. Your lips part readily, tongue lolling out in a gesture of wanton submission. Jake doesn't need any further encouragement.

He shuffles upright and aligns the flushed, weeping crown of his cock with your waiting mouth. You moan thunderously as he slides between your puffy, slicked lips. He's not quite as large as Heeseung, but the taste of his pre-release still has you quivering with arousal. He's thick and heavy and deliciously musky on your tongue.

Soon, the raw, barbaric rhythm is established. Heeseung brutally jackhammers up into your slick, spasming cunt, the desk rattling beneath you. But Jake is more measured, smooth rolls of his lean hips that bury his cock to the root in the silken confines of your throat.

You're utterly sandwiched between them, moaning deliriously around Jake's shaft as Heeseung splits you open again and again with his prodigious length. Every nerve ending has been set alight, vibrating at the peak of rapturous overstimulation.

Jake keens and grips your hair tighter, picking up the pace to thoroughly skullfuck you in tandem with Heeseung's savage thrusts. His balls slap against your chin obscenely, smearing pre-release and spit into a sticky mess across your features.

"That's it…take it like the perfect little whore you are," Heeseung snarls from above, drunk on the power trip. "Gonna pump both these tight holes full of our fucking seed…"

The crude words send shockwaves through you. Your thighs are slick and trembling, orgasms fast approaching like a runaway train. Jake seems to sense your impending rapture as well. He fucks your mouth with renewed vigor, choking out your wanton whines into garbled, muffled moans around his pistoning meat.

Heeseung unexpectedly seizes your hips in an iron grip, slamming you down onto his cock with enough force to rattle your teeth. You wail incoherently as that final, brutal thrust shatters the glass ceiling of your control entirely.

Wave after breathtaking wave of orgasmic release convulses through your ravaged form. Every muscle tenses to the point of agony as electrical pulses of ecstasy short circuit your synapses. You're utterly suspended in a dissociative state of bliss, continuous gushes of slick essence sheening your thighs and Heeseung's inhumanly thick cock.

He roars with dark satisfaction, somehow fucking you even harder through the all-consuming storm of climax. Jake whimpers helplessly, face flushing crimson as hot ropes of your drool and excess saliva stream down his shaft in filthy rivulets.

The sight seems to undo him entirely. Tensing beneath you, his movements stutter and falter as a blissful rictus overtakes his pretty features. Heeseung grins savagely and yanks Jake flush against your face, growling for you to "take that fucking load, princess."

That virile command seems to be the final push Jake needs. He arches in freefall, mouth dropping open around a hitched exhalation. The first pulse of his hot seed streaks across your tongue, filling your mouth with its bitter saltiness as you struggle to swallow every tangy pulse.

He cries out in rapturous bliss, hips jerking helplessly to milk himself to completion. Your cheeks hollow with effort, determined to drain him dry like the obedient little cockslut that you are.

"Fuck…yes, take it all you greedy whore," Heeseung growls from above, hips still pistoning relentlessly as he breeds your shuddering, spasming cunt with his brutal length.

His balls slap lewdly against your ass with every punishing thrust, the twin peaks tightening in preparation for his own impending release. You whine around Jake's cock, delighted by the prospect of being thoroughly sullied by both their viscous seed.

Jake finally pulls his spend-smeared length from the debauched 'o' of your mouth with a filthy pop. He staggers back to catch his breath, abs rippling and face gone slack with a hazy, euphoric expression.

Heeseung seizes the opportunity to crash their lips together, devouring Jake's moans with a ravenous growl. He tastes you both on the smaller man's tongue, rich and musky and filthy.

You lie there, feeling utterly impaled and ruined by Heeseung's insistent pounding. Sweat sheens your bodies, which glisten obscenely with each punishing slam of his hips. The coil of your shared pleasure is rapidly reaching its crescendo, nerves alight.

"Where do you want this fucking load, princess?" he snarls against Jake's mouth, teeth nipping at the plump flesh possessively. "Tell me like the dirty girl you are."

"I-inside!" you wail without hesitation, head thrashing against the desk. "Please…please fucking breed me like a good slut!"

Something unhinged flickers across Heeseung's chiseled features. He seizes your jaw in one large palm, grip nearly bruising as he drinks in your deliriously wrecked and wanton expression hungrily.

"That's my girl," he rumbles. Punctuated by another brutal thrust, his next words rasp out in a torrid rush of crudity. "Get ready to get that messy little hole pumped full of my thick fucking seed…"

As if guided by some primal, cosmic trigger, your bodies fall into perfect alignment at long last. His hand winds into your hair while Jake latches onto your swaying tits, suckling frantically at your peaked nipples.

Gripping you in a punishing hold, Heeseung unleashes a final flurry of piston-sharp thrusts. You soar over the edge of oblivion with a guttural scream, consciousness whiting out beneath the force of your cataclysmic rapture.

His throbbing cock slams against that velvet cluster of nerves in a delicious finale, and you spiral endlessly through the white-hot vortex of climax. Your walls flutter and pulsate greedily around his retrograde pulsing length, milking him without quarter.

Heeseung shatters apart with a groan, thick, ropey strands of virile seed flooding your spasming hole to the brink. You shudder as his essence rushes to paint every twitching contour of your insides, coating your receptive walls with its potent finish.

Thick rivulets drool and drip down the cleft of your ass as he continues to pump, determined to thoroughly lay his claim. His vicious grunts eventually trail off into euphoric huffs, cock finally spent.

You both lie there twitching and heaving for breath in the aftermath of your mutual detonation. Jake presses worshipful kisses to every inch of your marked, ravaged bodies in reverent daze. You've never felt more owned, sated or deliciously defiled in your life…

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riality-check · 1 year

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DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2

"I have to open it."

"Nope."

"Gareth. I need to open it."

"The vault is sacred," Archie says.

At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."

Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"

"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.

Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.

"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.

"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.

Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."

Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.

It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.

He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.

Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.

Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.

(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)

From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.

Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.

"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.

"Is that how we ask?"

"I could always yank the key off you."

Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.

Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.

Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.

And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.

But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.

Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.

Or maybe Steve was just that hot.

He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.

His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:

I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.

Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.

"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.

"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."

"What did he say?" Archie asks.

Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.

Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.

"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.

"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.

"What do I say?" he asks.

Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."

"I don't know how!"

"You ground against a guitar-"

"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"

Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"

"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.

Jeff barks out a laugh.

"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.

Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?

"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.

"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.

Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.

"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.

"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.

"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."

"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"

"He might be ace."

"Archie, shut the fuck up."

He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.

Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.

He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.

This is. So bad.

And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.

Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.

I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.

"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.

"He's single!" Gareth cheers.

"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.

"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.

They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.

But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.

He writes back, once he's calmed down:

Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.

#ria writes #dilf and concert #d&c au #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson #dilf steve harrington

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jorongbak · 2 months

Text

*** NO SPOILERS ***

So I just watched Deadpool & Wolverine. Here's a short jumbled review

1. I think this might be my favorite Deadpool movie. ..and I'm definitely going to be broke by the end of August

2. I was a little worried when the final trailer revealed Laura- but NO THERE'S SO MUCH MORE THEY'RE HIDING. IT WAS INSANE BECAUSE I REALLY HONEST TO GOD DIDN'T EXPECT THEM???????? PREPARE TO BE SO PLEASANTLY SURPRISED

3. This movie feels like a tribute to 20th Century Fox's Marvel and 2000s Marvel movies. As a 2000's kid who grew up watching and loving Fox's Marvel movies, it's a nice feeling of nostalgia and surprises

3-1. Love the amount of appreciation and respect they show to 20th Century Fox

4. The balance between the comedy and the serious emotional scenes are done very well. Made me laugh hard as well as made me feel for Logan and Wade. There are more serious moments than they let on from the trailers.

5. All of the fight scenes are also great. R-ratings giving Wolverine and Deadpool the permission to go all out, put Maximum Effort into all the gory, bloody, violent, satisfactory action sequences. We all know it's a sin if DP and W don't get to fight in a R-rated style, and this movie do them justice (especially Wolvie)

They are so chaotic together you'll love every time when their combined chaotic insanity intensifies.

5-1. Yes. He wears the cowl, and I goddamn loved every second Wolverine's cowl was on the screen. He wears it much longer than I expected

6. "Like a Prayer" is a perfect choice. It's beautiful

7. If you're a Wolverine fan, like me, please don't miss this movie. Hugh Jackman is of course amazing as ever as Wolverine. And with R-rated blessings, we get to see Logan being the angry grumpy cranky unsociable foul-mouthed violent no hesitation quick to stab self in his iconic yellow suit. (That was already a Hugh-ge win for me)

And the way he fights. YES. YES. YES. That's the Wolverine I love.

+) Also there's the way he moves for a very short amount of seconds in his fight with Deadpool that I want to talk so much about... but I'll hold my tongue until more of you watch the movie. It was the first time I saw him do that. It's a new move and I freakin' loved it. Wish we'd get to see him do that again later

8. I f**kin' love the ending so much. It's perfect for me. It's the very best ending I could have asked for. The ending made me love the movie so much more

9. Can they save MCU? I dunno and TBH I don't care about the whole MCU, I just care about them. I'm willing to stick around for more of Wolverine and Deadpool stuffs, and hopefully some good X-men stuffs from the Mutant saga.

10. While I can't say this movie is a masterpiece like Logan, it is definitely entertaining and a good fun watch. That is enough for me. They give what the audience came for and I absolutely love it for that.

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool #wolverine

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harrysfolklore · 2 months

Text

spill your guts or fill your guts

all i have to say is, i miss this man so much

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

When Harry told you that the Late Late Show asked him to do the 'Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts' segment with you as the guest, you didn't think twice before accepting the invitation.

However, as you sat in front of a table full of plates with bizarre and disgusting food, your boyfriend in front of you ready to ask you uncomfortable questions and cameras rolling catching your every reaction, you started to regret considering it in the first place.

"How are you feeling about this?" Harry asked when the cheers and applause died down, giving you his million dollar smile that made everyone drool over him.

"I can't believe I agreed to do this." You said shaking your head as you adjusted your top, giving a nervous smile to the audience.

Harry turned his head to the camera before speaking, "This is our first time, playing the game I mean," he smirked for a second, making the audience cheer and shake your head again, "And the last time we will do it also, right love?" and the blush didn't fail to appear in your cheeks at the pet name, because no matter how long you and Harry had been together, he could still make you blush like the first time.

"Right, indeed," you nodded your head, "Let's take a look at the food we have on the table."

"Okay so, we have Bug Trifle," Harry said and the audience instantly let out a collective sound of disgust, "Yeah ew," he mimicked making you laugh and he smiled slightly because your nerves were slowly fading away, "Jellyfish," the audience groaned again and Harry couldn't help himself before he mimicked them one more time "Yeah, ugh!" you laughed again as he continued naming the food for the game, that consisted in giant water scorpion, 1,000 year old eggnog, cow blood and pork tongue jelly, cod sperm, salmon smoothie and bull penis.

"So I'll ask the first question, the producers have not shown us these ahead of time, and before I choose the food you'll have to eat I want to say something," Harry paused to look at the camera for a minute before turning to you again, "I love you babe, I consider myself a good boyfriend, and I hope I'm still a good boyfriend after this," the audience erupted in cheers and howls, and the blush rushed into your cheeks again, "That being said, let's start with the 1,000 year old eggnog."

"Nooo!" you couldn't help but squeal when the food was placed in front of you, "You know I love you too but you might end up taking the couch tonight!" Harry chuckled and the audience laughed along with him, "Is the cinnamon supposed to make this any better?" you grabbed the cinnamon stick making a disgusted face at the drink.

"Give it a sniff." Harry spread his arms as it was the most obvious thing.

"Why?" you asked but sniffed the drink anyway, "Oh my god! That's disgusting!" Harry laughed and you felt the urge to throw up without even tasting it yet.

"Come on love, It's gonna be fine," Harry sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes with affection, "Ready?"

"No! But let's get this over with."

"Okay," Harry said as he grabbed the card to read the first question, and when he let out a devilish laugh you knew you were in for a ride, "You are great friends with the girls from BlackPink, you have been on tour together and released multiple collaborations, rank the members Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo and Rosé."

He finished the question and the audience erupted in screams and cheers, it was no secret that you and the BlackPink girls were the best of friends and they were dying to hear your answer.

You grabbed the cup and moved it close to your face scrunching your nose at the smell, "Hold on, I think I can answer it," Harry raised his brow and tilted his head at you before you continued, "I mean, I love all of them so much, and this doesn't mean I love any of them any less, It's just based on how close-"

"Drink the eggnog." Harry interrupted your rant making the audience laugh.

"Noooo!" you protested, refusing to drink the beverage, "Okay, it would be like, Jennie, Rosé, Jisoo and Lisa."

You said quickly and instantly covered your face in embarrassment, even thought the girls would understand that it's all part of the game.

"Whoo!" Harry said laughing and putting an amused face, "That was controversial, love."

"Oh shut up, It's your turn."

"Alright, now you choose something for me that I would have to eat."

"I'll do the sperm." you said turning the table to place the food in front of him.

"Okay."

"Here you go."

"Okay." he said again and the crowd laughed for a minute.

"Just so all you know, this is exactly how an argument between us looks like, me yelling like a maniac and him just saying okay," the audience laughed again and Harry just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright," you said before clearing your throat and grabbing the card with his question, "Oh I'm dying to know this," your smirked before continuing, "Which songs on your One Direction albums are about me?"

Harry instantly covered his eyes and started laughing at the question, over the years fans have speculated about songs by the band were about you, since Harry confirmed he had a crush on you ever since you were on tour together.

With the crowd cheering and your expectantly look on him, Harry grabbed the napkin that was on the table to put it on his neck and try to cut the cod sperm, "Sooo, I would say track number-"

"No! Answer it or eat it!" you interrupted him and he had no other choice but to grab a piece with the fork that instantly made him make a disgusted face.

"Just don't look at it."

"Oh yeah, that fixes everything. Just don't look at it!" Harry sassed at you, "What we doing?" he looked at the camera almost in disbelief.

"This was your idea! Now go," and with a final look at you, he put the cod sperm on his mouth and started chewing it, looking directly at the camera as he did it.

"Just swallow it, why do you keep chewing on it."

"To spit or to swallow, that is the question," and the crowd broke down in laughs again at his cheekiness as he spit the cod sperm on the bucket beside him, "Really carries an aftertaste, fancy a kiss, love?" he tried to stand up and you stopped him immediately.

"Nope! No kissing until we wash our mouths properly!"

"Okay so, I'll give you the salmon smoothie now."

And if Harry wasn't your boyfriend that you loved him so much and you weren't on live television, you swore you could murder him on the spot for giving you the food that you hated the most.

"Why are you doing this to me? You know I hate salmon."

"Come on love, I'm putting you up for a challenge," you rolled your eyes and he smiled before grabbing the card with your question, "Okay, you were part of Versace's newest campaign alongside some of the most popular supermodels in the world, who was the most unlikable out of all of them?"

"I have the answer. I can't say it, though," and without further notice, you grabbed the glass and took a big gulp of the salmon smoothie, feeling disgusted when the flavor hit your tongue and grabbing a glass of water to erase the aftertaste.

"Watching you drink that made me feel sick." Harry handed you his napkin and you wiped your mouth as you looked around the table to choose the next food for him.

"Okay, I'll give you the bug trifle," you grabbed the card with the question, "We have been dating for three years now, do you see yourself dating me for another three years?"

"That's easy, yes," he shrugged and the audience went nuts at his confession, and your cheeks were blushing again as your heart melted.

"You're such a sap, and on national television too!" you teased him and he srugged again.

"I'm just a boy who's in love, can you blame me?" The crowd awed and you rolled your eyes as you encouraged him to give you your next food.

"I think we're going to go with bull penis," he cheekily smiled for a moment, "Yeah, bull penis. You ready?"

"No, but you could go."

"It's just bull penis," he said as he grabbed the next card, and when he read what was on it he instantly let out a mischievous laugh that made you nervous about what was coming, "Okay, who is the most surprising celeb to ever slide into your DMs?"

"Who is he?" Harry yelled after a few minutes of silence from you and you laughed at his antics, "That's information I must know, babe."

"I feel like I can say it, right?"

"You're telling me who was it off camera anyway, so?"

"Shut up!" you paused for a moment to think about if you should whether or not reveal that the most surprising celebrity that tried to hit on you via Instagram was no other than Liam Payne, your boyfriend's former bandmate, even tho he knew that you and Harry were happily in a relationship and you couldn't be less interested.

"I think I'm eating the penis," deciding to be a nice person and not embarrass him on national television, you said and grabbed a piece of it to put in your mouth, "Oh my god! That was disgusting."

You grabbed the bucket beside you and threw the piece in as Harry laughed.

"Just so we're clear, however was that bloke, I hope you know she's taken, by me." Harry shrugged and gave the camera an innocent look.

"For your last question I'm giving you... the scorpion thing," you read his question and it was your turn to give him a devilish look, "Between Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn rank their solo-"

And before you could even finish the question, Harry already had the giant scorpion on his mouth, making you, the audience on set and his thousands of fans watching at home scream and laugh.

He spat on the bucket after chewing for a minute, took a big gulp of water and wiped his mouth before turning to the camera to wrap up the segment.

"That was 'Spill your guts or fill your guts', we'll be right back with more of the Late Late Show!"

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hyewka · 10 months

Note

idk if you’ve done this but fwb yeonjun who gets jealous of you being too friendly with other men

warnings; fwb, semi public, a little toxic, not proofread

“Why does Yeonjun keep staring at you? Wait no…glaring at you. Girl. What. Have. You. Done.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, deciding to drown out your thoughts by finishing your drink in one swig. This entire party you’ve been trying to ignore it. His weirdly possessive behavior.

Throwing his hand over your shoulder and snuggling you closer to him than usual, “accidentally” introducing himself as your boyfriend, then the accident turns into an “inside joke” where he just keeps introducing himself as your boyfriend like its the most hilarious thing ever—it’s all too obvious.

But then it’s not.

Not when you decide to look over at him, only to find that his arms are wrapped around a new girl. You roll your eyes. “I fucked him Yunjin. That’s what I did.”

You expect the gasps in horror and “I told you to stay away from him”, “he’s literally a manwhore!” but Yunjin only rolls her eyes making you blink rapidly in shock. “What? I already know you guys are fuckbuddies babe, that doesn’t explain why he’s been attached to your hip the past three hours. Until, well, now.”

You snap your fingers. “You noticed it too right? It’s weird! It feels like he’s jealous but then he goes and sucks another girls face right in front of me—God.” You cut off your tyrant as you feel the sudden urge to vomit watching the girl and Yeonjun get more and more handsy right across from you.

You don’t miss Yunjin’s mutter as she drags your hopeless ass away from the scene, “Fucking manwhore.”

—

Of course the pious Choi Yeonjun, lining up with his behavior the entire night, pulled you by the wrist to a quote secluded area at the party. It’s dark but not entirely…private.

Yet you always fall back into it, you’re always in his arms, despite the setting, not anyone else’s despite being far from exclusive. It’s not your fault he finds you when you’re most horny. Which is why he has you pinned against the wall as he fucks you with the same, if not more eagerness in him.

“Shh baby, we don’t want an audience now do we?” he whispers, taking the lead—you blink away tears, slightly making out the dyed hair had plastered onto his forehead.

You nod frantically as his hand pressed over your mouth, no doubt smudging your lipstick, slowly slips. You squeeze your eyes shut when he rolls his hips against you, thrusting sharply into you, making you slightly jolt up against the wall.

“No, no don’t shut up completely, wanna hear you. Moan my name princess. Only for my ears.” he slurs, the tipsiness evident in his voice.

“Yeonjun.” you gasp for air, “Yeonjun—no, f-fuck.”

“What?” he breathes, busying himself with pressing kisses all over your neck, stably holding you up against the wall with his arms, pressing his body flush against yours.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

It’s like he didn’t expect the sudden aggression, pausing his hungry attack to your neck for a second—until you feel his lips curl up into what you assume to be a smile against your skin again. He’ll always be a cocky prick.

You feel his breath fan, as he picks up a more rhythmic speed. “Hm?” he hums, like he’s innocent. Sly fox.

You scratch at his back, curling his shirt’s fabric into your hand, breath hitching the more he hits a spot, like he’s brutally digging into your cervix. “Don’t—don’t act dumb. Pulling me away like a child from Juyeon like that was so-” suddenly, he drives his cock further, having your body bounce like a fucking ragdoll. It’s like he’s trying to shut you up.

“It was so—mmf-embarrassing.” you manage to mewl, trying not to let yourself fall into a headspace.

“Aw. Was it?” he mocks, scoffing, hand slipping down to rub at your clit, making your legs weak like jelly all the more as they tremble to keep wrapped around his waist. “You know what’s embarrassing? Everyone knowing you’re mine yet you still having the audacity to whore yourself out.”

You gasp, scandalized—though the shock doesn’t linger on for too long—not when he’s practically splitting you open.

He hides his face between the junction of your neck and shoulder, suddenly biting down having your body jolt in pain— you let out a string of hissed curses. “Laughing at every dumb joke Juyeon makes? You know he’s not even that funny right?”

His tongue licks, then he sucks, over and over again.

“God, and then slapping his shoulder, smiling at him like he’s the shit.” He dryly laughs, getting rough the faster he rubs, “So fucking annoying.”

“Yeonjun.”

It’s like he knows what you’re going to say, and he’s trying his absolute hardest from getting you to say it, so he immediately presses his lips against yours, your moans drowned out against his. It’s sloppy, but he doesn’t stop. He kisses you, again and again and again, finding your hands to intertwine with his, pinning it against the wall. It’s so…oddly intimate.

You don’t get it, you don’t. The last time you had seen him, he was about to fuck a girl right then and there for all to see then the next he’s pulling you away like an angry boyfriend who caught his girlfriend cheating.

In fact, this isn’t even the first time. Hes always acted like a boyfriend, so much so everyone was sure you guys were together for a period of time before he was off fucking some other bitch again.

It …pisses you off.

Your orgasm washes over you, the tightening finally snapping as you finally get to breathe, heaving, seeing white as you catch your breath while simultaneously feeling Yeonjun cum in you, again. Was that the issue? Letting him keep doing that? Was that your first mistake?

“Fuck, that was nice.” He says, out of breath, staying inside for a couple more seconds before finally slipping out of you.

But you’re out of it, staring at the ground. “Hey, you good?” he asks, as he pulls up his pants. “Want me to get tissues real qui-”

“Yeonjun. We’re not exclusive.”

He pauses for a second.

Then, he laughs, buckling his jeans, “No shit?”

“So…why do you act like we are?”

note: lol has anyone noticed how often i cut off with some dumbass cliffhanger 😭 yup thats just me not knowing how to end a fic properly ijbol forgive me 🙏🏼

#yeonjun smut #txt smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun fic #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

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dolldefiler · 7 months

Note

This isn't the first ask I've sent you- you already know how much I love your writing! But would you ever consider writing more public sex scenarios?

Something like a girl getting fucked on a crowded subway train, with other passengers pressed up against her. It starts out subtle, with him trying to see how much he can get away with, but soon he's fucking her so good they both stop caring if anyone sees. Maybe no one does see- maybe one or two people notice and flush and look away- hell, maybe the whole subway car catches on and she's suddenly surrounded by people gasping and staring and taking photos, all while this guy's cock is just destroying her, with her eyes rolling back and drool dripping down her lips.

Maybe at that point he gives up all pretense of secrecy and just slams her against the wall or throws her over a chair, or rips off her clothes right where they're standing, while the other passengers scatter out of the way. She'll have to finish her commute in torn, ruined clothes, with cum all over her and a fucked-out expression that just won't go away. (can you tell I've thought about this more than I'd care to admit? i've had lots of long commutes, lol)

Anyway. No pressure to write something like that, since I know how busy you are. But if inspiration strikes, and you have time…well. I'd really appreciate it <3

Hello, hello, I've not done too much public scenarios but I wrote this based off your very wonderfully written ask. I hope I've not butchered it, and thank you so much for the inspiration! I'll try to work on more pieces :)

C/W: Public sex, rape

Hello there, miss. Hush. Quiet now. You wouldn’t want them to see what I’m doing to you now, would you? You wouldn’t want the other passengers to see me molest your fat ass, would you? That’s a good girl. No, no, there’s no need to cry. Once I get my fill of your gorgeous fucking body, I’ll leave. You know me, don’t you? We’ve taken the same train for months now. Every morning I have to endure your perfect fuckdoll body passing by me without being able to touch it. Not today.

Shh, quiet now. God, was that moan? Don’t tell me you like some stranger slipping his hands up your blouse to fondle your tits? Does your boyfriend not feel up your tits as well as I do? Mhm? Yeah, it is. Yeah, that’s my cock. Do you like it? Do you like my big, hard cock pressed up against you? If I slipped it in you right now, do you think the guy next to you would notice? God, do you think he fantasises about your slutty body as much as I did?

Shit… FUCK-, well I guess there’s no need to be quiet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so much better than I imagined. Your cunt’s gripping my dick like you’re a natural whore. God, look at that. Everyone’s looking at you. They’ve even- fuck yes- they’ve even got their phones out. Look! You’re going to be a pornstar now!

Get off that seat. I’m going to fuck her on it. Let’s get you settled here… Shit, yes. Shit, your pussy’s a premium fucking fleshlight, isn’t it? God, you don’t need this blouse, do you? Let’s just tear it off you. God, look at those fucking tits swinging while I bounce you up and down my cock. What a lewd fucking sight it must be for our audience.

God yes, get on your knees. You look so pretty with those glazed eyes. Let’s finish them off with some thick cum. Shit, this is the best train journey I’ve had with you. Fuck yes, it’s coming. I’m CUMMING. Ugh, let’s paint your face with my cum.

Anyone want a picture? She's real cute like this, isn't she? Does anyone know where she works?

#public kink #r@pe fantasy #rough kink #rapekink #rapedoll #r@pe kink

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lenaellsi · 1 year

Text

on aziraphale's insecurities in S2

i'm pretty sure one of the lines in the end scene where crowley shoots himself in the foot the most is "i think i understand a whole lot better than you do," and i don't even think he realizes how badly aziraphale takes it.

it's just a fact to him: he knows better than aziraphale what heaven is like. it's also a fact to the audience, who knows that the metatron is doing this for bad reasons and that aziraphale is walking into a trap. but it's not a fact to aziraphale. and that's the moment aziraphale goes from panicky and anxious to angry.

aziraphale's self-doubts and anxieties concerning his identity as an angel are shown frequently in s2. we start 2x01 with him deeply insecure in his 'retirement': crowley mentions that aziraphale frequently calls him to "tell him about something clever he did," and aziraphale confirms that he is essentially using these conversations as a stand-in for reporting to heaven. he misses being on The Good Team and doesn't know what to do with himself now that he's not.

so aziraphale doesn't know who he is if he's not an angel, but he also knows that he's a bad angel. he was frequently mocked and condescended to in heaven (by seemingly everyone, not just the archangels; even the quartermaster in s1 called him pathetic). he lied to heaven, he lied to god, he enjoys earthly pleasures, he loves works with a demon, and he doubts the Plan. he never fit in with them. lonely, remember?

and later in the season, we learn that shax, for all that she apparently is not great with sarcasm, is remarkably perceptive when picking up on insecurities. she mocks aziraphale twice, first in the car for his relationship with crowley (which, interestingly, doesn't faze him a bit--remember the eyebrow? he's not at all insecure in his knowledge that crowley loves him. crowley has always been the thing he's most sure of, even very early on--look at how much faith he has in him with job.) the second time she hits much harder: "crowley's emotional support angel," "shall we send in the sushi?" "the softest touch" etc. it hurts him, you can see it.

and there's another tiny moment in 2x05 I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk about, where crowley has just bluffed to the demon horde and is trying to get all the humans together to leave. crowley says, "I won't leave you on your own," and aziraphale says, "I know. But I have a suggestion--" and crowley brushes him off, saying "I got this." aziraphale looks very frustrated by this exchange, which--yeah! fair!

and over and over, we just--we see crowley be right. right about job and god, right about elspeth, right about the magic trick, the nazis, the arrangement, the apocalypse. "you were right, you were right, i was wrong, you were right." crowley's never done the dance before, he says. how many times has aziraphale had to?

and crowley's not just right, he's confident in it! he moves through the world and makes choices that fly in the face of everything aziraphale knows about Good and Evil, and it seems to come so easily to him. he's loud, and he's brave, and he's full of conviction, and aziraphale often feels overshadowed by that surety, because he's so often full of doubt. "you sound jealous, angel," is what crowley says at job's mansion, and i think he's more right than he knows.

all this to say: when crowley says "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do," what aziraphale hears is you idiot and how can somebody as clever as you be so stupid and I was right, I was right, you were wrong, I was right. and he's fucking sick of it.

and so he doubles down, and he gets in the stupid elevator, and he makes the worst mistake of his life, because he's sick of being treated as heaven's lackey or crowley's sidekick. the metatron knew exactly what to say to get him there, and crowley had no idea he was playing directly into it.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #gos2 spoilers

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aliteralsemicolon · 5 months

Text

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

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

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

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

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

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

11:57 PM

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

11:58 PM

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

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

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

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

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

11:59 PM

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

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

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

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

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

12:00 AM

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

12:31 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:56 AM

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

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

2:07 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3:42 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

“Emily!”

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4:03 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was off?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

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

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer’s POV

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

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

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

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

Your POV

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

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

2:17 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Emily asks.

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

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

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

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

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

4:31 AM

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

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

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

“I’m not.” You persist.

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

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

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

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

4:55 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?” You say after a second.

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.”

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading!

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