#but also i know i do not have the dedication to read a million word web novel

[freakinflipflop]

Ouagh I need something new to get super into or I'm gonna explode

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[jjenthusee]

Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate’ you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

[jemiswumbo]

bulletproof love (18+)

twitchstreamer!luke x reader

author’s note: omgg this oneshot took all my blood sweat and tears to produce. i am NOT a graphic designer. i do NOT normally write smut. but this idea had to come to fruition before i went insane. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

title is from bulletproof love by pierce the veil. lyrics have no correlation but it IS a certified banger.

tags/warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral (m receiving). use of y/n. not proofread. kinda long. teeheehee etc.

i.

You met Luke Castellan at the grocery store.

He looked like a completely normal (albeit, very attractive) guy in his twenties. His dark curls fell slightly over his warm, chocolate brown eyes. A mischievous smirk was plastered across his cheeks, showing off a small dimple on the left side. He wore a simple hoodie and sweats as he perused the pasta aisle, picking up different jars of sauce and reading the labels absentmindedly. He did, however, have an interesting scar sitting jagged over his cheekbone, but it was so faint that you hadn’t noticed it until way later on.

You would have never guessed he was a near millionaire with close to a million social media followers. You would have never guessed he spent the majority of his life not at the grocery store, but rather streaming FPS and RPG games for an average of fifty thousand views at a time.

You would have never guessed he’d take a liking to you.

You, who worked part time at this very grocery store. You, who didn’t really know the first thing about video games, except that they were confusing and it was insane that some people could build ridiculously complex structures at a mind-boggling speed on Fortnite whilst also shooting with godly precision.

He had backed into you accidentally whilst you were restocking a shelf, causing you to drop a couple glass jars that cracked open upon impact with the floor. You apologized, even though you’d really done nothing wrong. He obviously thought you attractive (or maybe he just didn’t leave the house much?) because his idea of an apology was taking you out to some lavishly expensive dinner the next night.

The dinner was okay but the conversation is what got you hooked. He was so sweet and told you so many wild stories that had you laughing until your chest ached. He paid for the meal and held your hand on the drive home. When he dropped you off, he casually told you his Instagram handle and told you to shoot him a follow. You blushed, smiled, and scurried inside.

You just about died when you saw his profile.

ii.

It’s been about a year since you had started dating Luke Castellan, otherwise known as his twitch handle “SonofHermes.”

(“Because he’s the messenger god, right? In, like, Greek Mythology? And I felt like a damned messenger god when I was a moderator for four different discord servers and a twitch chat—“)

Luke’s twitch streams occured mostly every night, from 8pm to about 3am. He always began his streams with some FPS game (Overwatch, Valorant, CS:GO, or something similar). After a few hours he would swap over to a different game for his variety segment. His chat was hilarious. They loved to tease Luke and joke around with him and donate silly messages. And, of course, because Luke was so very attractive, a decent chunk of his fan base was dedicated towards swooning over his every word and look and smile.

You, honestly, never really minded. Mostly because Luke was yours. You were sure the thirsting from chat would diminish once they knew you were dating. But… you really, truly, had no desire to be in the public eye. Having nearly a million people know your name and your face was daunting and scary. You also had enough common sense to realize that some of his fans were probably batshit crazy and would send you hate and death threats for dating Luke. You were a part time employee and a student; you did not need another reason on top of that to have poor mental health.

Luke loved you unconditionally and that was all that mattered. You were perfectly content spending most evenings to yourself. He was a good boyfriend, though, and did schedule days off to take you out and show you incredible amounts of love and support. You were both very happy and secure in your relationship.

One particular evening, you were staying over at Luke’s apartment. It was a Friday, and you had no work tomorrow, so he bought alcohol and weed and selected a list of movies to marathon. It was basically your most ideal way to spend the weekend.

That was, until, Luke’s gamer friends messaged him on discord, begging him to join their Rust server to defend their group base.

Luke had met these friends through Twitch events and game conventions. There was Percy, who streamed with his girlfriend Annabeth. They were one of the most adored couples in the gaming community. They all lived in the same state, so Luke hung out with them pretty often. There was also Grover, who was Percy’s roommate and would join his streams from time to time. As well, there was Thalia, who was a huge advocate for women in eSports, and played in a professional league. Luke had introduced them too you a few months ago, and they all swore to help keep your relationship a secret.

The five of them often played different games together, as most of their fanbases consisted of the same people, so it really raked in the views and made for good content. Plus, it was just really fun. You knew how much Luke loved his friends and cherished the times they got to play together.

The Rust server was a recent hyperfixation that you were positive would fade once a new MMO came out to grab their attention. But, you were also aware of how much time and effort Luke had spent constructing this base of his.

“Go,” you said, noticing his confliction. “You can have one hour to play. Stream, too, so I can watch out here. But after that, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said with his devilish grin. He kissed you hard, leaving a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He hurried off to his bedroom, where he kept his gaming setup, and shut the door.

You were fine with spending an hour alone. Flipping through Netflix, you cracked open a bottle of wine and relaxed into the sofa.

One hour went by fast. Luke didn’t return to the living room.

You picked up your phone and opened the Twitch app, clicking on Luke’s stream. He was currently in the middle of some intense adventure with Percy. Luke’s webcam was situated in the top left corner of the game feed, and he looked so cute and handsome under the glow of the monitor and the purple LED lights.

To be honest, the wine was getting to you. You felt such a strong desire to be near Luke and to feel him and be with him. He bit his lip on camera, deep in concentration, and that action alone had your heart rate increasing.

“Fuck it,” you said, turning off the TV and standing up from the couch. His hour was up, and it was time to take the matter into your own hands.

iii.

Luke enjoyed playing his games with the volume high in his headphones. It allowed him to feel like he was actually in the game, and unaware of the outside world. This also was an issue, because more often than not he would lose track of time and forget about his plans and scheduled events.

He just couldn’t help it — he loved video games. Currently, he was busy perfecting his base on Rust so it wouldn’t be broken into again. It took a lot of effort and concentration, and Percy and Grover dicking around and goofing off did nothing to help his focus.

So, it only made sense that he didn’t notice his bedroom door opening. The door wasn’t in frame on his camera, so he didn’t see it open, either. He didn’t notice it close. He didn’t notice you, getting down on all fours and crawling over to his desk setup.

He didn’t notice you, at all, until you put a hand on his leg.

Luke jumped a bit and glanced down, meeting your mischievous glance and the naughty smile on your cheeks.

“Uh, chat — sorry, gotta go to the bathroom, one sec —“ Luke rushed out. He shut off his camera and muted his mic, double checking that it was definitely muted by quickly scanning the latest messages in his chat:

He rolled his eyes at the messages, and pushed his chair back, glaring at you on the floor. “Baby, what the hell are you doing?!”

You smiled. “I was just missing you, is all.”

“So you snuck in — wait, shit, you said one hour. It’s been an hour hasn’t it?” Luke said, running a hand through his messy curls.

You nodded, and gave a weak shrug. “It’s okay, though. I think it would be fun if we also played a game of our own.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, feeling a blush form on his cheeks. “What’re .. what’re you suggesting?”

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed to the floor, leaving you in a lacy black bra and your mini skirt. You let your fingers linger on the strap of your bra. “I’ll let you stream longer. But.. once you cum, you have to shut it off.”

“You want to blow me on stream?” Luke asked, incredulously. He could already feel himself start to harden at the thought of this ‘game’ of yours occurring.

“Like, secretly, though.” You said with a slight eye roll. “You can try to keep your composure for as long as you can, but you’ll be all mine for the rest of the night. Okay?”

Luke took a minute to ponder. If he somehow got caught… the consequences would be severe. His reputation would be tarnished. He’d lose his job and his income and the entire career he had worked so hard to build.

But on the other hand.. you looked really fucking sexy, staring at him with your doe-eyes, feigning innocence in the most seductive lingerie he’d ever seen you in.

“Fuck’s sake.” Luke pulled his chair back towards his desk. He tugged his sweatpants down to his ankles, giving you a face full of his half hard cock and his toned, muscular thighs. “You have to be quiet too, you little slut. I seriously cannot get caught.”

“Of course,” you replied, slightly moaning as you took his length into your hand. “You’re so incredibly attractive.”

“Shut up,” Luke said, adjusting his camera angle to absolutely ensure it cut off at his upper chest and nothing lower than that was visible. He took a deep breath and was about to rejoin his stream, when you began sucking him off. “Fuck!”

You pulled your lips off of him with a loud pop. “Come on, Lukey, you can last longer than that.”

“You’re mouth feels so fucking good though,” Luke groaned, threading his fingers through your hair. He took another deep breath and guided your head back to his cock, which was now fully hard and aching for your mouth. This time, when you licked up his shaft, he was more prepared and was able to maintain his chill composure. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’m turning my stuff back on. Be quiet, please.”

You nodded, slowly taking him back into your warm mouth.

Luke turned on his camera. He turned on his mic. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his mouse and keyboard. “Okay, I’m back. Chat, please tell me Percy and Thalia didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”

“Hey!” You heard, faintly from Luke’s headset. “We didn’t do anything, and if your chat says otherwise, they are lying!”

You giggled as quietly as you could, and clearly the vibrations from such movement felt good for Luke, because you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Wh-whatever. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to work.” Luke said defensively.

“What?” Percy asked. “You sound weird, man. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Luke replied, too quickly and at an octave higher than he normally speaks. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous. He was terrible at being subtle.

“Okay…” This was a girl’s voice, and sounded like Thalia. “My chat agrees that you’re being weird.”

“Same.” Percy agreed.

“Yeah, well,” Luke scanned his second monitor to check in on how his chat was reacting. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My chat is being dumb, as per usual.”

Below the desk, your nerves had subsided and instead you became preoccupied with the notion of possibly getting caught. It was kind of twisted but this caused your lower region to dampen. You lifted your short little skirt over your hips and moved your lacy underwear to the side, giving you access to finger yourself.

You moaned, with your mouth full of thick, heady cock, and brain slightly foggy from the wine consumption. You were close already.

“What?” Luke said, clearly reading something on his monitor. “Chat, that was my phone vibrating on my desk. I did not moan over that headshot Percy made. Be so for real”

“Rude,” Percy said. “I would’ve moaned. I’m like, the god of gaming.”

“Loser.” Luke responded, biting his lower lip and slightly bucking his hips into your mouth. He must’ve been getting close, too.

From that moment on, you were desperate to make Luke finish. You abandoned your slow and gentle place, and took his entire cock down your throat. You silently gagged, and bobbed your head up and down, making sure to suck a bit longer on his leaking tip. You grabbed his balls in your right hand and squeezed, keeping your left hand on his upper thigh.

“Fuck,” Luke murmured, just under his breath. You sucked harder in response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What is going on, dude?” Percy questioned. “You’re stressing me out.”

Luke glanced over at his chat again.

Luke flipped a middle finger to his camera, and gave a playful, “Chat, you all suck.” Obviously, he loved his fans and was eternally grateful for their support. It was just fun to mess around with them and feign a love hate relationship. It did make him a bit anxious, however, that everyone easily picked up on the fact that something was affecting Luke. It didn’t exactly help that he was really close to finishing and was starting to lose track of what was happening in the game. All he could feel was his cock going in and out and in and out of your soft lips, that were now coated in a mixture of salvia and his precum. It was just about driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were knuckle deep inside your own cunt and sucking Luke off with so much fervour your jaw was starting to ache. But you loved the feeling. And you were determined to get him off. Now.

Suddenly, Luke felt the familiar feeling build inside himself. Before he realized it was happening, he was shooting thick ropes down your eager throat. “Fuck!” he screamed, legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered and gasped for air as you did not let up on your pace, sucking every last drop of cum from him.

He realized how fucking weird this whole ordeal must’ve looked to his many (many, many) viewers.

Instead of confronting what just happened, he slammed his mouse on the End Stream button and shut off his computer, without so much as a goodbye. He pushed his chair back and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

You smiled at him sweetly, a sheen of sweat covering your entire body. Luke leaned down and kissed you hungrily.

“Y/n,” he said, once he was out of breath from such an intense kiss. “I.. Need. To be inside of you. And you can never, ever do that again.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed innocently. “Kinda seemed like you really liked it though.”

“Oh, shut up.” Luke said with a grin. “Bed. Now.”

You obliged, heading over to his comfy queen sized bed, unaware that you were about to have the most mind blowing sex of your entire life.

authors note: aaaaa ok. first of all i’d like to apologize. i have not proofread this at all and i wrote each chunk on separate days. i will proofread it eventually and fix the errors lmao.

also! now that all the ~lore~ to this AU is sorted, if you ever wanna send me twitchstreamer!luke specific prompts, i would ADORE THAT.

thank you all again for reading !!!!! <3

taglist: @notacluelessblonde00 @lilyirlevans

[mrsfancyferrari]

Fragments of Hope

Summary: You had an argument with Daniel and you decided to leave him for a while. What you didn't know is that he can't live without you.

Song: MILLION DOLLAR BABY - Tommy Richman

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 4.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

"Daniel, I feel like you're prioritizing your racing career over our relationship. It seems like you don't care about me anymore." You said, stressing over the fact that Daniel didn't understand.

"I understand why you might feel that way, but racing is my passion and it's important to me. I want you to know that you're also a priority in my life." Daniel replied.

"Well it certainly does feel like it sometimes," You muttered, standing up from your seat.

"Y/N please listen to me," Daniel pleaded, standing up to follow you.

"No you listen to me!" you yelled, turning around to face him. "Everyday you stay in the paddock until 1AM or later when you come home and then you leave at 8AM to go back to work. Daniel, I have less than 7 hours to spend time with you and it's mostly used on you sleeping,"

"I understand that it may feel that way, but racing is not just a career for me. It's my passion," Daniel pleaded, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you more than words can express, and I want to make it work between us."

"How Daniel, tell me how you are going to fix this because right now, I don't feel like I'm in a relationship with you but a friend who helps you."

Daniel stood there, his eyes filled with regret and realization. He had never seen you so upset before, and your words struck a chord deep within him. He knew that he had to make a change, to find a way to balance his racing career with your needs and desires.

"That's what I thought," You muttered, taking your phone before heading for the door, "Don't follow me,"

Feeling frustrated and hurt, you stormed out of the house and went to your best friend's house for the night.

As you're on your way to your friend's place, your phone dies, leaving you disconnected from Daniel. However, when you finally arrive at your friend's house, you decide to check your phone for any missed messages.

Opening your photos or messages, you notice several messages and calls from Daniel. One that read, "I'm sorry for what happened. Are you at your friend's house?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anger and sadness.

Despite your hurt feelings, you decide to text him back, "Yes, I'm at my friend's house. I need some time to think and process everything. Please respect my space for now."

It's late at night when you find yourself sitting with your friend, doing your skin care routine together. You decide to share your situation with her, expecting some reassurance.

As you pour your heart out to your friend, she listens attentively, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can understand why you're feeling hurt and frustrated," she says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It's important to prioritize your own needs and emotions in a relationship. You deserve someone who can dedicate time and effort to nurturing your connection."

"But I have got to remind you how in love Daniel looks when he's with you," your friend said, her voice filled with sincerity.

"I've seen the way his eyes light up when he talks about you, and the way he always puts your happiness first. Maybe this situation is a wake-up call for him to prioritize your relationship and find a better balance. Give him a chance to make things right, but also remember to listen to your own needs and make decisions that are best for you."

You nod, appreciating your friend's perspective and words of encouragement. "You're right," you reply, "I do see how much Daniel cares about me. I'll take some time to reflect on what I need and have an open conversation with him."

The next day, you and Daniel barely exchange any words. It feels like there's a tension between the two of you, but you try to ignore it.

As the race day approaches, you find yourself watching Daniel's race. Unfortunately, he doesn't perform well, finishing in 19th place. The disappointment weighs heavily on both of you and knew that Daniel would be very disappointed in himself, but you decide to give it some time.

You were always the one to comfort him after a bad race, reminding him that everyone has off days and that his performance does not define his worth as an athlete. You would assure him that you still believed in him and that you're proud of the effort he put in.

Feeling conflicted, you decide to reach out to Daniel after his disappointing race. Despite being in your friend's house, you understand that he is most likely in the paddock as usual.

You send him a text expressing your support and reminding him that you believe in his abilities, hoping that it will provide some comfort during this challenging time. . . .

Days turn into weeks, and the tension between you and Daniel remains. One night, you receive a strange picture from Lando, a close friend of Daniel's and you.

In the photo, you see Daniel, his usually composed and determined demeanor replaced with disheveled hair and glassy eyes. His grip on the lamppost is tight, as if it's the only thing keeping him upright.

The streetlights cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the exhaustion and despair etched in his features. It's a stark contrast to the vibrant and confident person you've known him to be.

As you study the image, a wave of concern washes over you. You can't help but wonder what has led Daniel to this point.

Is it the mounting pressure of his racing career? The strain on your relationship? Or something deeper that you're unaware of?

Unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer, you decide to video call Lando, hoping to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Lando, what's going on?" you asked worriedly, your voice filled with concern as you hoped to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Oh yeah hey Y/N, your boyfriend is really drunk and he is hugging a lamppost with all of his strength," Lando explained, showing his face and waving at the camera.

"I've been trying to get him to come back to the house, but he's been pretty stubborn. I think he's been struggling with the disappointment from the race and it's just gotten to him."

"Let me see him,"

As Lando shifted the camera towards Daniel, you could see the toll that his recent struggles had taken on him. His usually vibrant eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, filled with a mixture of exhaustion and anguish.

His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty forehead, and his once confident posture had slouched, as if weighted down by the burden he carried.

It was clear that he was in a state of deep distress, and your heart ached at the sight of him clinging to the lamppost, seeking solace in his own thoughts.

"Daniel baby," you said in a gentle tone that you would only use for him. Daniel perked up, looking around for you, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they finally met yours on the video call.

There was a glimmer of recognition and relief in his eyes as he realized you were there, offering him a lifeline of support and understanding amidst his turmoil.

With a shaky voice, Daniel whispered, "Y/N, is that you?" His words carried a mix of vulnerability and hope, as if he was desperate for your presence to validate his struggles and offer him the comfort he desperately needed.

Your heart racing, you didn't waste a second. Without another thought, you hung up the video call and rushed out the door, fueled by a determination to be by Daniel's side.

As you sprinted towards where Lando had described, the worry and fear in your chest propelled you forward, your mind filled with a single thought - you needed to reach Daniel, to hold him, and to let him know that he wasn't alone in his pain.

"Lando, make sure that he stays there and share your location," you instructed, knowing that finding Daniel quickly was of utmost importance.

The urgency in your voice reflected the depth of your concern as you relied on Lando to keep an eye on him until you arrived.

"It's not like he's letting go of this lamppost any time soon," Lando joked

You couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'll make sure to give him a little nudge if he's still holding on when I get there," you replied, grateful for the small moment of levity amidst the seriousness of the situation.

Lando chuckled and said, "Just make sure it's a gentle nudge. We don't want him falling over before you get there. I'll keep an eye on him for you, Y/N. He's in good hands."

"Also just make sure you bring some extra strength with you. I have a feeling Daniel might need it," he said, his voice laced with concern.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Lando," you assured him, your voice filled with determination. "Thank you for watching over him. I know he's in good hands with you."

When you finally locate Daniel, you approach him cautiously. He looks disheveled and confused, unaware of the picture you received from Lando.

As soon as you got off the car and walked over to the two of them, Daniel's eyes were on you. His gaze held a mixture of relief, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope, as if he had been waiting for you to arrive and bring him the solace he desperately needed.

"Thank goodness you're here Y/N," Lando said smiling at you before giving you a hug.

"How is he?" You whispered to Lando, glancing at Daniel whose eyes were still trained on you.

"He's in bad shape," Lando whispered, his worry evident in his voice. "He's refusing to drink water, he's been vomiting, and he has a high fever. But no matter what, he won't let go of that lamppost."

Your heart sank as you took in the state Daniel was in. The sight of him clinging to the lamppost, refusing to let go despite his deteriorating health, only heightened your concern.

"I'll go try and talk to him."

"Good luck but you probably won't need it," Lando replied.

As you approached Daniel, you couldn't help but notice the hollowed look in his eyes, as if the light within him had faded. His once vibrant and charismatic demeanor was replaced by a sense of weariness and defeat.

His disheveled hair and trembling hands were clear signs of the toll this ordeal had taken on him, and it was heartbreaking to see him in such a vulnerable state.

The sight of him clinging desperately to the lamppost, his knuckles white with tension, revealed a level of desperation that struck a chord within you.

Nevertheless, you mustered up all the courage you had and gently reached out to touch his shoulder, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself.

"Daniel, it's me Y/N, your girlfriend," you said slowly, your voice filled with love and concern.

His eyes flickered for a moment, as if trying to grasp onto a distant memory, before a glimmer of recognition appeared. "Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, his grip on the lamppost loosening slightly.

"I'm here, Daniel," you replied softly, your heart breaking at the sight of his vulnerability. "I won't leave you alone. We'll get through this together."

You placed your palm against Daniel's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his feverish skin. Concern washed over you as you realized just how sick he was. "We need to get you to a doctor, Daniel," you said, your voice tinged with urgency.

"No doctor," he slurred, his words barely audible. "I don't want their help. Just stay with me, Y/N."

As Daniel's words trailed off, tears welled up in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. Each tear carried the weight of his pain and the fear of losing himself and you.

You held him tightly, offering a comforting embrace as his tears soaked into your shoulder, a silent testament to the depth of his despair.

"Daniel," you said gently, wiping away his tears with your thumb, "I understand that you're scared and don't want anyone's help. But I can't stand to see you suffer like this. The doctors can help you get better. They have the knowledge and resources to treat you. Please, let me take you to the hospital. I'll be right by your side the whole time, I promise."

Daniel looked at you with a mix of desperation and gratitude, his trembling hand reaching out to hold yours tightly. "Okay," he whispered, his voice filled with surrender, "take me to the hospital."

You nodded, grateful for Lando's support. Slowly and carefully, with Lando's help, you guided Daniel to Lando's car. As you settled into the back seats, Daniel's trembling hand still tightly holding yours, Lando started the engine and drove off towards the hospital, the weight of the situation heavy in the air.

Daniel leaned against you, his body weak and trembling. Each breath he took seemed to require immense effort, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart as you held him close, praying for his strength to endure just a little longer until you reached the hospital.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," he whispered while taking in sharp breaths, his voice strained with pain.

"What do you mean baby?" you whispered, observing every movement Daniel made.

"I'm sorry.... for.... for not being.... good enough," Daniel stuttered, tears streaming down his face.

Your heart shattered at his words, and you squeezed his hand tighter, your voice filled with love and conviction. "Daniel, please don't say that. You are more than enough, and I love you just the way you are. We'll get through this together, I promise."

"I... love you," Daniel muttered. "Please don't leave... me."

"I love you too, Daniel," you replied, tears welling in your eyes. "I will never leave your side. We're in this together, and we will fight through it. You are not alone."

The rest of the journey was mostly silent, as you focused on keeping Daniel awake and alert, gently talking to him and urging him to stay awake. However, Daniel's exhaustion and pain were overwhelming, and he longed for the comfort of sleep.

Despite his struggle, he fought to stay awake, knowing that reaching the hospital was crucial for his survival.

As you pulled up to the hospital, Lando's prearranged call had ensured that a medical team was waiting at the entrance with a stretcher for Daniel. They quickly and efficiently transferred him onto the stretcher, their urgency matching the gravity of the situation.

You watched with a mix of relief and anxiety as they whisked Daniel away, knowing that he was now in the hands of the medical professionals who could provide him with the immediate care he needed.

You and Lando waited in the waiting room, your legs bouncing against the floor in a nervous rhythm. The minutes felt like hours as you anxiously scanned the hallway for any sign of the medical team returning with updates on Daniel's condition. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, and all you could do was hope and pray for positive news.

"I couldn't help but listen in your conversation in the car," Lando started. "Did something happen before today?"

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you replied, "Yes, Daniel and I have been going through a difficult time lately."

"Excuse me, were you the ones who brought Mr. Ricciardo?" the doctor asked, looking at you and Lando. Your heart raced as you nodded, eager for any updates on Daniel's condition.

"Yes, we brought him," you replied anxiously. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?" The doctor's face softened as they looked at you both with empathy. "We're doing everything we can for Mr. Ricciardo. He's stable for now, but we need to run some tests and monitor him closely. It's too early to say anything definitive, but we're hopeful."

"Can we at least see him?" Lando asked on your behalf, his voice filled with concern. The doctor nodded sympathetically, understanding your need to be by Daniel's side during this critical time.

"Yes, you can see him, but please keep in mind that he needs rest and quiet. Follow me."

As you followed the doctor down the hallway, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts raced through your mind. Fear, hope, and a desperate longing to see Daniel battled within you, creating a tumultuous storm of anticipation.

You clung to the doctor's words of hope, praying that they would ring true and that Daniel would pull through this ordeal.

As you entered Daniel's hospital room, you were taken aback by his appearance. His usually vibrant and energetic demeanor had been replaced by a pale and weakened figure lying motionless on the bed.

The sight of him hooked up to machines and monitors sent a pang of sadness and worry through your heart. Tubes and wires were connected to his body, a stark reminder of the severity of his condition.

Despite the sterile and clinical environment, the room was filled with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability and fragility.

The beeping of the machines provided a haunting soundtrack to the room, punctuating the silence that hung heavily in the air. Daniel's closed eyes gave no indication of his awareness of your presence, and you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of helplessness.

"I'll leave you to it." The doctor muttered, closing the door and leaving you and Lando in the room.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. As you stood there, surrounded by the beeping machines and the stillness of Daniel's presence, the weight of the situation sank deep into your being.

It was a somber reminder of the fragility of life and the powerlessness you felt in the face of it all.

You sat down beside Daniel, gently taking his hand in yours. The touch of his cold skin sent a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the warmth and vitality he once exuded. As you sat there, you couldn't help but silently will him to fight, to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.

"This is all my fault," you muttered, silently crying onto Daniel's hand, overwhelmed by guilt and regret. You couldn't help but blame yourself for the situation, questioning every decision and action that led to this moment.

The weight of guilt and regret pressed heavily upon you as you sat beside Daniel, crying silently onto his hand. Every decision and action leading up to this moment played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of self-blame and what-ifs.

The emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but wonder if you could have done something differently to prevent this.

"It's not your fault," Daniel strained, his voice weak but filled with reassurance. You quickly looked up, astonishment and relief flooding your eyes as you saw him awake.

"I'll leave it up to you guys," Lando said as he left the room and left you both having no chance to hear him as he left.

"Does it hurt?" you muttered.

"No but it hurts that you're crying," Daniel muttered, slowly raising his hand to wipe your tears, "It's not your fault,"

"I shouldn't have left like that, I distracted you before your race and now this," you said, your voice filled with remorse and self-blame. Daniel's weak smile broke through the heaviness in the room as he gently squeezed your hand.

"Don't blame yourself," he whispered, his words carrying a sense of forgiveness and understanding.

"I shouldn't have treated you like that for you to leave the house," Daniel stated, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise to focus more on our relationship and prioritize our happiness above all else."

"You don't have to," you muttered.

"But I will, I promise."

"You know," Daniel began, his voice growing stronger, "I've had a lot of time to think while I was lying here. And I realized that life is too short for us to hold onto regrets and blame ourselves for things that are out of our control. We can't change the past, but we can choose how we move forward from here."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude and hope. "You're right," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and determination.

"Can you get in here with me? I miss having you beside me when I sleep," Daniel muttered, his voice filled with longing and vulnerability.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate, but ultimately decided to climb into the hospital bed and snuggle up beside him, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

"Are you comfortable?" you whispered, laying against Daniel's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"More than ever," he replied, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if never wanting to let go.

As you kept quiet, tracing Daniel's tattoos slowly, you marveled at the stories they told, each inked line representing a moment in his life. It was a silent act of love and connection, a way for you to understand him on a deeper level without words.

This was how most of your nights would end, with you tracing over Daniel's tattoos while he tenderly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back. It was a comforting routine that brought you both a sense of peace and intimacy, allowing you to express your love for each other without the need for words.

In those quiet moments, you felt a deep connection and understood that the stories etched on his skin were a part of him, just as you were a part of each other's lives.

"Will you come to live with me again?" Daniel muttered against the top of your head, his words filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and felt a surge of love and longing.

"Daniel," you whispered, your voice filled with uncertainty. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and desperation in his gaze.

A part of you wanted to believe him, to give him one more chance, but another part of you was hesitant, unsure if things could truly be different this time.

Daniel begged desperately, "Please, give me one chance and I promise that I will be more committed to our relationship if given the chance."

Taking a deep breath, you let the love you still felt for Daniel override your doubts. "Yes," you whispered, a mix of hope and caution in your voice. "I'll give us one more chance, but we have to take it slow and work on rebuilding trust."

Daniel grinned, "That's all I need," he said, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. "I promise you won't regret this. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

Your heart fluttered as Daniel's hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Goosebumps erupted across your skin with every touch, igniting a fire within you that only he could ignite. The electricity between you is palpable, and you can't help but melt into his embrace.

As your lips met, a wave of familiarity and passion washed over you. The taste of his kiss was like coming home, a sweet and addictive blend of warmth and tenderness. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and desire.

The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourself in the intoxicating dance of his lips against yours, each kiss deepening the connection between your souls.

Time stood still as you surrendered to the magnetic pull of his embrace, savoring every stolen breath and gentle caress. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent promise of a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger than ever.

You gently tug at his collar, out of breath, and as Daniel asks, "Do you want me to stop?"

Also out of breath, and with a mischievous smile, you whisper, "Just the opposite, please. Don't stop."

Your words are filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire, a silent plea for him to continue. With a knowing smile, Daniel leans in closer, his touch becoming even more electrifying, as the intensity between you grows with each passing moment.

"God, I missed this," Daniel muttered against your lips, his voice filled with longing and a tinge of regret. The weight of his words hung in the air, reminding you of the time lost and the journey ahead.

But in that moment, all that mattered was the fire that burned between you, igniting a passion that refused to be extinguished. . . .

[kaspbra-cant-even]

Never Tear Us Apart (Spencer Reid/Reader)

This is one of my works from AO3 where I post under the user-name fish_cloud. Under the cut will be the entire work as it is already finished. Have fun reading and feedback is always appreciated 💛

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Relationship: Spencer Reid/Reader Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, Derek Morgan Additional Tags: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Angst, Violence, Torture, Sexual Content Language: English Chapters: 7/7 Words: 17k

Summary: Soulmates exist but they are rare. So rare, that some people doubt their existence. (Y/n) is already struggling trying to hide her feelings for Spencer but then she finds out they're soulmates, just as they take on a case about a serial killer targeting couples, he thinks are soulmates, things get complicated and dangerous.

Notes: The title is inspired by Never Tear Us Apart by Paloma Faith (I swear that woman has a voice to die for). Also this is kind of dedicated to my best friend, I love her so much. Enough from me, have fun reading :))

Chapter 1

Having a soulmate was a rare occurrence. You could consider yourself lucky if you had one and even luckier if you ever found them. It was kind of like winning the lottery. There were people who had devoted their entire life to finding their other half, without even knowing if they even existed. Isn’t it only human to crave connection? The longing to belong to someone. This is not to say, that you were alone, just because you didn’t have a soulmate or didn’t find them. But this kind of connection was hard to grasp for someone who hadn’t experienced it. A one in a million connection.

Most known things about soul-connections were purely speculative due to the fact that they were so rare and even when some would find each other, there was nothing easy about trying to explain it. Like with all spiritual things there were some people who chased the idea with cult-like devotion and there were people whose life remained inherently untouched by it.

(Y/n) was the latter. In her now 1 and a half years at the BAU she had come into contact with the subject. Mostly it had been people who justified their crimes with their search for their soulmate or they were fueled by their hate for others who had found “the one”. (Y/n) knew that their loneliness didn’t stem from the lack of a soulmate. It was just something to project their loneliness onto.

There were several ways to know if you even had a soulmate but like with most things, they weren’t scientifically accurate most of the time. Soulmates could feel each other’s pain, physical as well as mental. The problem is, who hasn’t had random bruises that showed up out of nowhere or a sudden change in mood. Do you just not remember where those injuries came from and maybe you’re more empathetic than some people or is it your soulmate? Of course, with major injuries there was no doubt but taking into consideration how few even were unmatched souls and out of those how many suffered such significant damage that anything else could be ruled out, needless to say it was an uncommon occurrence to find out this way.

Another thing were shared dreams. Not in the sense that soulmates would dream about the exact same thing, but the overall tone would synchronize. If one was having nightmares, the other would too. Psychological consequences were mostly unexplored.

The last known indicator was that once having met your soulmate you’re lives were intertwined, no matter if you knew they were your soulmate or not.

As you see, all of these indicators weren’t exactly clear. As a result, you could meet your soulmate without ever figuring out they were the one.

When she was younger (Y/n) had fantasized about having a soulmate, like most teenagers did, but as she got older, the fantasy faded. Other things had become more important. She had picked up on some signs but there had never been definite proof and after a while it wasn’t important anymore. She had started working for the FBI as a profiler and from that point on

her mind had been preoccupied with anything else. She wouldn’t waste her life searching for someone she didn’t even know existed.

As (Y/n) walked into the bullpen one morning, the bad dream from the night before still lingered. She couldn’t remember what it had been about, but she hadn’t gotten much rest. She sat down at her desk. She hadn’t even unpacked as Spencer walked up to her with an extra cup of coffee in his hand. (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice he looked tired. “Morning, panda boy.” “Panda what?” “Because of the bags under your...nevermind, you look tired.” Spencer let out a sigh. (Y/n) took a sip of coffee. “Nightmare again?” Spencer nodded and leaned on the edge of her desk.

When (Y/n) first started to take a liking to Spencer she couldn’t stop herself from interpreting something into every one of these common experiences but after a while she’d resigned herself to accepting the were just coincidences. She had read somewhere that people would sync up after spending a lot of time together and there wasn’t a person in the world, she spent more time with than Spencer Reid. The only people who came in close second were the others on the team. When you worked for the BAU, the people you worked with were your family, so much so, she barely had any relationships outside of work.

“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about it?” She brushed his arm ever so lightly with her fingertips as to not overstep any boundaries. Spencer and (Y/n) were close but she herself wasn’t a very physical person and so she would go out of her way as not to make other people uncomfortable. There were of course exceptions. One of those exceptions was Penelope Garcia, (Y/n)’s best friend at the BAU. Over time she had gotten so comfortable with Penelope that physical touch was a given.

But with Spencer it had always been something different. After they had become friends, it hadn’t taken too long until (Y/n) had caught feelings and she felt like taking advantage of their friendship if she used it to get closer to him.

Spencer’s eyes flickered to her hand on his arm for a split second before she retracted it quickly as to not make him uncomfortable. Their eyes met for a second but before she could try to read him and overthink the situation Spencer spoke up. “Conference room in 5.” He walked back to his desk to get some papers before heading to the conference room.

(Y/n) let out a sigh. Spending time with Spencer had become increasingly more difficult. It wasn’t his fault. It just became harder to hide her affections. She could feel them drifting apart in her effort not to jeopardize their friendship. She buried her face in her hands. There was no good way out of this. Clearly her feelings weren’t going away, and she knew she couldn’t hide them forever. The BAU must’ve been the worst place on earth to have a crush on your coworker.

The inevitable next step was Spencer finding out about it one way or another. The only question was how he’d react. (Y/n) had ruled out the possibility of him reciprocating her

feelings pretty fast. She remembered a case in LA where they had to catch Lila Archers stalker. Spencer had been smitten from the second he laid eyes on her. It had taken (Y/n) weeks and a few bottles of Hennessy to get the image of them kissing in the pool out of her head.

She shook her head as if to get rid of the memory. She stared at her desk from between her fingers. The other two options were either him being ok with her having feelings for him but at this point she doubted she could still be friends with him even if he had a good reaction, or he wouldn’t want anything to do with her anyway.

“Fuck...” (Y/n) whispered. She looked up, fixed herself and grabbed her cup before walking into the conference room. The only free seat was next to Spencer. He gave her a small smile before she sat down. Instantly she felt the small butterflies in her stomach. She smiled back and emptied her coffee hoping to drown those fuckers.

Jennifer Jareau was standing in the front explaining their new case. The unsub was targeting couples in the Las Vegas area. The couples went missing sometimes for weeks. There had been 16 bodies already. They showed clear signs of torture. JJ showed them pictures of the symbol every victim had carved into their chest. It resembled a stick figure of a human with four arms and four legs.

“We can safely assume that the killer’s motivation has something to do with the soulmate myth.” JJ concluded.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but smile. She knew Spencer was about to speak before he even opened his mouth.

“Plato said: According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

(Y/n) turned to the others. “So, what er we thinking? Is this guy delusional and chasing some fantasy or were those people actually soulmates he found somehow?” “We won’t have definite proof if these people were soulmate or not as they’re dead, but it would be statistically very unlikely that they were in fact actual soulmates.” Spencer responded.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment. He would never admit it but the way (Y/n) chewed on her pen when she was in deep thought made him feel things. It took him a second to tear his eyes away from her before turning his attention back to JJ.

“We’re dealing with a highly organized serial killer. His motivation is power and control, we’re looking for someone with an outwardly normal looking life, someone charming, charismatic and very intelligent. Later victims have shown signs of post-mortem sexual behavior. So, we’re dealing with someone who feels alone, who fears rejection. When his victims are dead the possibility of being rejected is gone. He also inserts himself into the couple’s relationship. We have to assume that whether they really are soulmates or not, he believes they are. It is possible that he also has some sort of god complex, putting himself in the role of Zeus who separates the soulmates from each other.”

The atmosphere on the jet was buzzing with conversation. The soulmate subject had that effect on people. It was a heavily discussed and controversial concept.

“I don’t think soulmates actually exist.” Morgan said and leaned back in his chair. “How can you say that? There have been cases where soulmates have actually found each other!” Elle protested. “It’s all fake, how can you believe them? Let me guess, you also read your horoscope every day too?” Morgan let out a light laugh but Elle furrowed her brows. “They’re two totally different things, even if I did believe in astrology, which has no relevance whatsoever in this discussion, you can’t just ignore facts!”

(Y/n) leaned back in her seat looking at Spencer, who sat next to her. “What do you think?” He seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment. “I mean there is some evidence but it’s all very speculative.” He looked at her for a second and he swore he saw a glint of disappointment in them but then it was gone. “But who knows,” He added quickly “maybe Soulmate are real, it’s a nice thought that there could be someone out there who has such a special connection to you.”

(Y/n) nodded. “But how is that even supposed to work? What if I do have a soulmate but I like someone else? Or I have a family or something?” “There are platonic soulmates as well, you know.” He gave her a small smile. For some reason this gave him comfort. Spencer wasn’t one to indulge in fantasies and he was decidedly to pragmatic to dream of his soulmate but if he had to chose someone it would be (Y/n). The probability of her liking him in a romantic way was even lower than her being his soulmate so the option of platonic soulmates eased his mind, even if just for a bit. He shoved those thought in the back of his head, he didn’t like to dwell on daydreams.

“Well, if some random guy walked in tomorrow and it turned out he was my soulmate, I’d still want to stay with you.” She said, decidedly, not really thinking about the implication. When she caught herself it was already too late. Spencer let out a small laugh. “You don’t have to stay with me, believe me you won’t want to when you find them.” “Shut up, more likely than not I don’t have one anyway, so I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Spencer let out another small laugh, but his heart sank a bit. If he was being honest with himself it was one of his greatest fears. That one day, (Y/n) would walk into the BAU and announce she’ found the one and she would quit to spend her life with them. He couldn’t bare the thought of someone taking her away from him. But this was totally normal for a friendship as deep as theirs, right?

After a while Spencer got up to get himself a cup of coffee. Elle and Morgan were still fighting, JJ had taken Elle’s side, Hotch just listened and Gideon sat by a window rereading the case file. No one was paying attention when it happened. Spencer had gotten distracted by something Elle had said to Morgan and almost tripped, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. As she saw the scene unravel before her, (Y/n) felt the burn on her hand. It took her every ounce of self-control not to make a sound. Spencer hissed and sat down next to her again. He handed her the coffee so he could clean up his hand with a napkin.

(Y/n) stared at him, her mind running a hundred miles per hour. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Spencer shot her a concerned look. “(Y/n) are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She stood up. “Excuse me for a second, I don’t feel so well, must’ve been the food or something.” She walked to the bathroom without looking back. After she closed the door behind her she sank to the ground with her back against the door.

(Y/n) felt panic rise in her chest. This was not possible. Sure there had been moments when she’d suspected something was up but she had always dismissed it but now it was so obvious there was no denying it. She felt tears of frustration gather in her eyes. As if everything hadn’t been already complicated enough. Not just did she have feelings for Spencer but now she knew almost certainly that they were also soulmates. She felt anger build up. Whoever came up with this soulmate stuff had been a real asshole. She would have been perfectly happy with not having a soulmate and just having Spencer by her side. What if he didn’t want to be her soulmate? Had there ever been a case where one of them just wasn’t into it? Shouldn’t there have been some signs from his part that he felt more for her? But then she remembered what he had said abut platonic soulmates and her stomach sank. Maybe he had known all along, and he’d just been giving her hints that they could just be friends.

Maybe they could make a deal somehow, they didn’t have to spend the rest of their lives together if he didn’t want to. She had resigned herself to not having a soulmate a long time ago, she didn’t need him.

She buried her face in her hands. Suddenly all those thoughts were gone and what remained was a heavy emptiness. There was no good solution for this, and she couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror to see how good her poker-face was after just having gone through the seven stages of grief in under 5 minutes.

As she walked back into the sitting area, she was greeted by Spencer’s worried looks. “Everything ok?” She sat down next to him. “Yeah, everything is fine.” “You don’t look so well, are you sure everything is ok?” He put his hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. His hand was cold on her warm face. Her breath hitched in her throat from the sudden touch and she had to fight the urge to close her eyes. She gave him a soft look. “I’m fine, Spencer, I promise.” His touch lingered for a second before he retracted his hand.

“You know you can’t lie to me.” He gave her a small smile. In a sudden burst of confidence she put her hand on his. “It’s alright, I’ll talk to you if I need to, don’t worry about me.” His hand wrapped around hers and he gave her a little squeeze. (Y/n) almost got sick from the explosion of butterflies in her stomach. Until now she’d attributed these strong physical reactions when they touched to the fact that she had a crush on him but looking back she couldn’t remember experiencing something like this with anyone else. Working with Spencer would be a real challenge, now that she had not one but two secrets.

Chapter 2

“Life is short, break the rules. Forgive quickly, kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret anything that makes you smile.” – Mark Twain

(Y/n) had a hard time concentrating from the moment they got off the jet. She felt like moving in a dream as they checked in with the local PD, going over the case again, went to the last crime scene. Only when she entered the expensive suite, she felt like shook her awake. The champagne-colored furniture was covered in dark red blood. But it was not the image that snapped her back to reality, it was the smell, it was always the smell that got to her.

The bodies were no longer in the room, but they had been laying here at least three days before anyone even noticed. One of the detectives turned to her when he saw her going pale. “Ma’am is everything alright?” “Yes, I just...excuse me, I just need a minute.”

(Y/n) stumbled out of the expensive hotel room into the corridor. She had trouble breathing and her hands started to sweat profusely. She knew the symptoms, that didn’t make it any less bad. When she reached a side corridor, she slid down the wall. She tried to remember what she knew about panic attacks. Breath. In, out, in and out again.

A pair of shoes came into her field of vision. She didn’t need to look up, to know it was Spencer. He was the only FBI agent she knew of that wore converse. Without a word he sat down next to her, back to the wall. She heard him breath slowly. She knew he was doing it so she could synchronize with him and after a while the panic had subsided.

“Are you better now?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” “What happened in there? You’ve seen worse before, what is it?”

She didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t just the fact that she had just figured out they were soulmates; it was something else. Their unsub was actively seeking out and killing what he thought were soulmates. She had been the unsubs ‘type’ before but now it wasn’t just about her, it was about Spencer too. She felt bad for withholding information like this. He didn’t even know he was a potential target. She wanted to tell him, tell him to be careful but something wouldn’t let her. Fear of rejection loomed over her like a dark cloud.

“I don’t know, Spence...I’ve just had a rough week, I guess.” “I know you’re not telling me the truth.” He put his fingers under her chin to make her look up at him. “I want to help you, but you need to tell me what is going on with you.”

There was nothing but kindness and goodness in his eyes. She wanted to tell him so bad. “I thought we weren’t supposed to profile each other.” She gave him a small smile to signal him she wasn’t mad about it. Spencer frowned.

“I’m serious, somethings not right and I need to know what it is. It doesn’t need a profiler to see somethings eating at you, it just takes a good friend.”

(Y/n) stood up. “Come on, we don’t have time for this now, we have a crime scene to profile.” She held out her hand to help him get up. He let out a sight and took it.

Back at the police station the team presented their profile but (Y/n) didn’t hear a single word. Her gaze was fixed on Spencer as he spoke. All she could process was the way he talked, how he moved his hands a s he gesticulated and the way he looked with his messy hair and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.

This was getting out of hand. Until now she had at least been able to do her job properly. Only when Hotch had called her name out for the third time her mind returned to reality. “Agent would you please tell the officers what our next step will be?” “Yes, of course, I’m sorry.” She gathered her thoughts for a second before standing up in front of the precinct. “Our best shot is going undercover and try to attract the unsubs attention. We will have two agents pose as a soulmate couple. We know that the unsub doesn’t stay at the same hotel for too long. We also know that he probably targets these couple at special events. Based on the profile we gave you he will appear sophisticated and he probably has some friends in high places. He will be successful in his career as to compensate his feelings of inadequacy regarding his personal life. He has to have some connections, otherwise we would find these victims much faster. He’s paying people to keep their mouth shut.

Tomorrow there will be a fund raiser at the Bellagio. There will be a lot of people and because of the nature of the event there will most certainly be a lot of couples, people usually don’t go alone to those things. This means our unsub will be there. The last victims were found today and killed three days ago; he’s looking for is next victims.”

She could still feel Spencer’s eyes on her when she sat back down. The crowd dissolved slowly. The BAU gathered around one of the desks.

“I think we all agree to send (Y/n) and Spencer as our soulmate couple.” Hotch said and shot them both a look. If (Y/n) hadn’t been so taken by surprise by Hotch’s proposal she would have noticed Spencer blushing lightly. Did they figure it out? Was that why Hotch had chosen them? No, it couldn’t be. Logically, they were the best match. They worked very well together, none of them would pose a great physical threat to the unsub and they were close after all. It wouldn’t be hard to make it believable. (Y/n) almost let out a laugh. Of course, it wouldn’t be hard. She wouldn’t even have to pretend.

“Are you ok with this?” Hotch asked. Both nodded. There really was no good reason to say no.

Spencer sat in front of the case files, but he couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/n) and how strangely she was acting. Maybe he had crossed a line and made her uncomfortable? He tried his best to keep a respectful distance, but it got harder every day. It

was almost as if she attracted him like a magnet. It felt so right when they touched hands or when she would brush his hair out of his face when he was too caught up in something else.

He loved to hear her talk. And he loved it when she listened to him. She never seemed to get bored of anything he had to say. Ever. She’d been awfully quiet the entire day. Something was up, he could feel it but for some reason he couldn’t read her. He knew that she would get fidgety when she was nervous, he knew that she carried herself with caution, she had been hurt by people in the past. He knew that she would cover her insecurities with little jokes, and he knew that she had a hard time opening up to people sometimes. But for the love of god, he did not know how she felt about him, and he didn’t know what was wrong with her right now. Some things she held to close to her heart for anyone to see, even him.

Spencer wanted to tell her that she could tell him anything and he wished she would believe him. There was a longing in his heart he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t know what to do about it. His fear was paralyzing him. He’d been hurt before too. For the time being he was content with the little he got, the quick glances when she thought he wasn’t looking, the way she laughed at his jokes and the way she made him feel like their friendship was something special. All team members were close, but he would be the first one she would talk to in the morning and the last one to wave goodbye in the evening. She was always there.

Spencer jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you coming? We’re checking into the hotel. Or are you to busy dreaming about our little Miss Commitment Issues?” Morgan teased and walked past Spencer. “I’m not – she doesn’t have – I’m coming wait up!” He grabbed his jacket and the files before following Morgan out the door.

The hotel was almost booked out. Hotch stood at the reception, arguing with the woman working there. “I don’t care that you don’t have enough rooms, we booked in advance!” She didn’t seem too bothered. She looked up from her phone for a moment.

“I’m sorry mister, that’s how it is, can’t throw the guests out that have already checked in. Should’ve come earlier.”

Hotch slammed his hand on the counter. “Listen here, I can get you fired in the blink of an eye. Get us our rooms, now!” His voice was calm but anyone who knew Hotch knew not to mess with him when he talked like this. The receptionist seemed to sense it too. “Ok, ok. I have a few rooms left but you’ll have to partner up.”

“Just give me the keys.”

(Y/n) and Spencer looked at each other like to school friends look at each other when the teacher says you can choose your partner for a project. It was understood they would share a room. But when (Y/n) turned the key around and entered their room she wanted to turn around and never come back.

“It’s just a-a queen size bed.” She stuttered. They stood side by side in silence. There was no couch, no armchair. Finally, Spencer spoke up. “It’s ok I can take the floor.”

(Y/n) gave him a light slap on the arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can share unless you’re so uncomfortable with me you’d rather take the floor.” The last part had been meant as a joke, but Spencer began to stammer. “No, no of course not – I’d love to sleep with you – I mean share a bed.” His face was getting redder by the second.

It took her all her strength not to laugh. “Calm down, Spencer.” She gave him a reassuring smile. He seemed to let out a breath he’d been holding. He was so cute when he got flustered, she thought. She would like to see him like this more often if she didn’t know how much it stressed him out.

“I’m gonna go change.” She said pointing at the bathroom. “Y-yeah go ahead.” “Thanks for your permission.” She gave him another smile but this time she was teasing him. “I didn’t mean –” “I’m just messing with you.”

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed while (Y/n) was in the bathroom changing. He tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking ever so slightly. There was no way she would ever want to be with a nervous wreck like him. Just like that one time Lila Archer had kissed him in the pool. He had predicted very accurately that she had only shown interest in him because of his role as protector. It had been too good to be true. He had become more cautious since then. His heart wouldn’t open as easily. But if he was being honest with himself it was already too late. He couldn’t even pretend (Y/n) had slipped in slowly and quietly. She had kicked the door in the first time he saw her and then she had made her home in his heart, barricading herself inside.

When (Y/n) came out of the bathroom her hair was damp. He hadn’t even heard the shower. There was something so endearing about seeing her like this, fresh out of the shower in an oversized FBI training t-shirt, something so domestic. “You’re turn.” She nodded at him. It took him a second to react before he stood up and followed her example of showering and changing into something more comfortable.

Later that night they laid side by side in the dark. The only light source were the colorful lights of Sin City. (Y/n) turned her head to look at Spencer. She could only make out his silhouette in the dark. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He turned his head towards her too. “For acting so weird. You’re right there’s something wrong but I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet.” (Y/n) felt her throat close. “It’s just...I’m really anxious about the undercover mission tomorrow and that never happened to me before...” She tried to control herself, but she couldn’t help but let out a small sob. “I’ve never chickened out before.”

Spencer didn’t know what to do. He had never seen (Y/n) cry before. “You’re not gonna chicken out, it’s normal to be anxious about these things. And...and you don’t have to worry because you’re not alone. I’ll be by your side the entire time, ok?” (Y/n) nodded but then she remembered he couldn’t see her.

“Ok...thank you. Just promise me you won’t put yourself in danger, ok? I don’t know what is up with me I’ve never been like this before a mission...I’m worried about you and I have a really bad feeling, I can feel it in my gut, you know?”

Spencer didn’t respond immediately, instead his fingers found the hem of her sleeve and tugged at it. (Y/n) understood and closed the distance between them until Spencer had his arms wrapped around her. “Is this ok?” He asked, almost regretting having been so bold.

“Yeah, this is nice.” She could feel him take a deep breath and relax. She felt his heartbeat against her back and her own heart began to beat faster.

Spencer almost couldn’t believe his luck. The faint smell of the shampoo in her hair made him dizzy. He never wanted to let her go ever again. “Spencer?” Her voice trembled. “Hm?”

“I need to tell you something...”

Chapter 3

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. (Y/n) turned around in his arms until she faced him. She had never been so close to him. He tried to study her face, but the darkness was making it hard. “What is it?” He asked cautiously. “I think it’s better if I show you.” He watched her as she raised her hands in front of him. When she pinched the back of one of her hands, he could feel it. He stared at her for a second. He felt the realization dawn on him. His mind short circuited and a quiet “Oh” escaped him.

(Y/n) felt her face heat up. She retreated hastily from Spencer’s arms to sit up with her back against the headboard. After 2 minutes Spencer still hadn’t said anything. “I-I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have said anything.” (Y/n) stood up. Now she felt stupid. Suddenly she felt like she was intruding. “I’m just gonna...” She pointed at the door and before leaving in a hurry. Spencer wanted to say something, but the words never left his mouth.

Before he could gather his thoughts, she was gone. It all made sense now. He couldn’t believe she had caught it before him, how could he not notice it until now? His first instinct was to run after her but what if she didn’t want to see him? Maybe she hadn’t told him because she didn’t want to be his soulmate. The only reason she had told him at all had to be the undercover mission tomorrow. Full disclosure so he knew what he was getting himself into.

Had something like this happened before? He tried to remember every single thing he had ever read or heard about soulmates but there was nothing. Another thought crept up on him. She knew when he was having nightmares, every night he had woken up covered in sweat, she had shared with him. Somehow, he wanted to apologize for that. She had to have been in so much pain because of him.

(Y/n) didn’t come back for the rest of the night. She had probably spent the night in Elle and JJ’s room. Spencer needed to talk to her before they started the mission but through the entire day, he couldn’t get her alone. He was almost sure she was avoiding him.

Some time in the evening they were getting ready for the fundraiser. The first time he saw her again was in front of the Bellagio. He wanted to say something, but they were wearing wires and he didn’t know if she’d told Elle or JJ about the soulmate thing, not to mention that the entire Las Vegas PD didn’t have to know about their personal issues.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but give him a small smile when she saw Spencer in his tuxedo. She had never seen Spencer dressed up like this before. “You eh, you look good.” She didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. “Thanks, you too.”

“Guys you need to step your game up if you want to make it believable for the unsub. You look like two teens going to a school dance.” Morgan’s voice rang through their earpieces.

“Shut up, Derek, next time you can go undercover.”

She took the lead and walked into the entrance hall. Spencer walked behind her and in a moment of braveness he put his hand on the small of her back. She flinched under his touch but before he could take it back, she eased into the touch. There was too much on the line to let personal issues get in the way of the mission.

For the rest of the night, they walked around, watching people, trying to identify the unsub, to no avail. The tension was killing them. “Ok, this is getting ridiculous, we won’t get picked if we keep going on like this.” Spencer took (Y/n)’s hand and dragged her into an empty hallway. Before she knew what was happening, he had muted both of their mics.

“We need to talk about this. I’m sorry, I didn’t say anything yesterday I was just...” “Shocked?” She interrupted him. “I get it, can we go back to the mission now?”

She was already about to go back when he grabbed her hand and dragged her back. “Look, I get it, I’m not what you had hoped for in a soulmate, but you need to get your shit together.” (Y/n)’s eyebrows were furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about, if there would be anyone I would chose as a soulmate, it would be you!” “You’re not...you’re not mad?” “No, I’m not mad, I thought you were the one unhappy with this whole thing.” “Why would I be? If there’s anyone who should be unhappy, it’s you. You’re way out of my league –” “Oh my god, Spencer just shut up.” She cracked a smile. “You’re my best friend, why would I spend so much time with you, if I didn’t like you?”

He looked at her for a second. “I...I don’t know.” “Look at me.” She took his face in between her hands. “Don’t you ever say that you’re not good enough ever again.”

Spencer never wanted to kiss her more than it that moment. His eyes wandered to the hall again and then he saw it. “That’s him.” (Y/n) was still caught up in the moment. “What?”

“Our unsub, that’s him!” “Are you sure?” “Yes, now come on.”

They turned their mics back on. “Reid? What happened?” Morgan questioned but he didn’t get an answer. “We have our unsub, it’s the guy in the dark grey suit by the champagne fountain.” (Y/n) whispered. “We have a visual. Try to get near him.” “Roger that.”

As they walked out of the hallway Spencer placed his hand around (Y/n)’s waist. Her heart was beating faster again. They made sure to be in the unsub’s field of view when Spencer took her hand. “Wanna dance?”

(Y/n) just nodded, she felt her cheeks heat up and she hoped Spencer wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately, he was still a profiler and so he bent down to whisper in her ear. “You know you’re cute when you blush.” The red on her face only intensified. “You know they can hear us.”

They heard a laugh from Morgan. “Yeah, we can, looks like our boy’s got moves, careful (Y/n).” Spencer gave her a smile before taking her to the dancefloor.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” (Y/n) whispered as they swayed to the music. “I’m full of surprises, what can I say.” He hadn’t stopped smiling at her the whole time. Her arms wrapped a little tighter around his neck as she laid her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beat fast and she could smell his cologne. She raised her head slightly so that her nose grazed his neck. She felt him shudder lightly as if he was getting goosebumps.

“Guys he’s approaching you.” As soon as Morgan had alerted them, they heard a voice.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this. But you two just looked so beautiful together. Can I buy you a drink?”

(Y/n) had to peel herself away from Spencer. She never wanted to let him go again. “Sure, thank you, Sir.” She gave him a smile.

The man was a bit older than they had expected. The rest was dead on. He looked sophisticated enough with his expensive suit and his well-groomed physical appearance. The three of them sat down at the bar.

“So, what are you two lovebirds doing here? I can tell you’re not from Vegas.” He took a sip from his Whiskey. (Y/n) had to squeeze Spencer’s hand under the bar before he could open his mouth and correct the unsub, that he was, in fact, “from Vegas”. Instead (Y/n) took the word.

“Well, I know you’re not supposed to brag about this stuff but...” She gave Spencer an endearing look that instantly melted his heart. “We just found out we were soulmates and we wanted to get married as fast as possible and what better place than Las Vegas, the City of Marriage, right?”

The man eyed both of them for a moment. (Y/n) had never felt so exposed in her life. She wanted nothing more than shove her gun into this guy’s face and arrest him right then and there, but they had to wait. He had to take them to the hotel room, they had no concrete evidence yet.

“Congratulations you two. I hope I’m not overstepping here but would it be alright to give you a wedding gift?”

“That is so kind of you, right honey?” She looked at Spencer who forgot for a second the situation they were in. His mind had tripped over itself when he heard her call him “honey”. “Right, right, very kind.” He had to tear his eyes away from her. “I want to pay for a night in a suite, the most expensive in Las Vegas.”

“We would love that, but can I ask why?” (Y/n) asked. They couldn’t be too willing to come along with him or he would get suspicious.

The man let out a theatrical sigh before downing the rest of his Whiskey. “I lost my wife a few years ago and I want to do something good for such a sweet couple like you.” They both knew that was a blatant lie. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Spencer watched (Y/n) play her role with perfection.

“Let’s not talk about me, this is your special night. The car is waiting outside.”

With every step they took (Y/n)’s bad feeling only got worse. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but something was off. When they got into the car, she heard the doors lock and panic began to spread. She tried to calm herself down. The team knew where they were, and they would follow them to the hotel where they could finally arrest this guy. She felt Spencer’s fingers slip between hers. She tried to put on a smile but then she saw the man’s face and her blood froze. He knew.

“How funny...” He spoke. His smile made her skin crawl. “The FBI send me an actual pair of soulmates.” (Y/n) let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.” He pulled out a gun and pointed it at her. Spencer wanted to make a move, but the man shot him a look. “If you move, she’s dead.”

(Y/n) could hear Morgan’s voice in her ear. “They’ve been compromised we need to get them out now!” “Your microphones and earpieces please.” The man held out his hand. They had no choice. Hesitantly they took them off and handed them to him. (Y/n) could only watch in horror as the man took them and put the microphone to his mouth. “You can collect your agent’s bodies in a few days.” As soon as he had stopped talking, he crushed the devices.

(Y/n) prayed that the team would find them in time. She could feel how she began to lose it. Spencer felt it too. He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine, they’re gonna find us.” The man laughed. “They will, but by then it will already be too late. I’m gonna have so much fun with the two of you.”

She felt Spencer’s hand wipe away some tears from her cheeks. She hadn’t even noticed she had started to cry.

They arrived at the hotel with no interruptions. (Y/n) knew he had shook the surveillance. As soon as they entered the luxurious suite, (Y/n) was just seconds away from a breakdown. There was no way out anymore. It would take the team an eternity before they found them.

There were about 150.000 hotel rooms in Las Vegas. There was no way they’d be found in time.

(Y/n) fell to her knees. “This is all my fault, I’m so sorry Spencer.” He kneeled next to her, putting an arm around her. “This is not your fault, why would you say that?” “Because I was so distracted. I haven’t been able to focus, I should’ve said something, and we should have sent someone who could do their job properly.” “Look at me.” Spencer cupped her face with his hands. “This is not your fault, do you understand?” She let out a sob. “We’re gonna die...” “We’re gonna be fine, I’m right here, ok? I’m right here with you.”

The man had sat on one of the armchairs, two security guards by his side. “I can assure you that the other agents wouldn’t have been chosen. I know the difference between real and fake soulmates.” Spencer looked up. “How?” He saw the man’s face turn into a grimace.

“Because I can recognize an abomination of nature when I see one.”

(Y/n) let out another sob. Spencer turned his attention back to her. “(Y/n), breath, look at me.” He saw the terror in her eyes. “Look at me, we will get out of here.” She nodded but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. He had never seen her this scared. They had been through some bad stuff in the past but never had he seen her lose her cool. Something was very, very wrong.

Chapter 4

Everyone on the team was on edge. Morgan’s forehead was covered in sweat. Gideon was standing right behind him, Elle and Garcia sitting just a few feet away.

“How funny...” They heard the unsub’s voice. Something was not right. “The FBI sent me an actual pair of soulmates.”

They exchanged concerned looks. “What is he talking about?” Morgan turned around to look at the others. Garcia shrugged. “She never said anything to me. Do you think that’s what they were talking about earlier when the mics were off?” Gideon’s brows were furrowed. “Could be. Regardless we need to help them.” “They’ve been compromised we need to get them out now!” Morgan addressed the swat team.

Before they could do anything else, they heard the unsubs voice again. “You can collect your agent’s bodies in a few days.”

The horror in Garcia’s eyes grew before the signal died. “We need to do something now!”

A few hours had passed. The unsub, whose name turned out to be Rory Marshall, had left them alone in the suite. There was no phone, and the door was locked. One look out of the window told them they were at least on the 30th floor. There was no escape. Even if they managed to figure out what hotel they were in, they had no way of communicating with the team.

Spencer had gotten (Y/n) through another panic attack. Now she was sitting on the floor with her back leaning against an armchair. Spencer sat right next to her while holding her hand. After a while he moved his position to sit in front of her. He took her other hand too. “(Y/n) look at me.”

She raised her head. The color had drained out of her face. Her eyes were wide open and red. “I know this is very stressful.” Spencer continued. “But we will get through this. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that; none of this is you’re fault. If anyone is at fault, it’s that unsub who is killing people.” “Spencer? What is going to happen to us?”

They both had seen the victims. They both knew what he had done to them. Spencer didn’t need to answer. There was no need to remind (Y/n) of the cruelty that had taken place in the other suites.

Spencer cupped her face in his hands. “Do you remember the Luxor Hotel? The one that looks like a pyramid with the light beam coming out of it?”

“Yes I remember.” “Did you know that the light attracts so many insects that it has established a new ecosystem with moths, bats and owls.” (Y/n) started at him for a second before she realized what he was doing. A small smile made it’s way on her face. Spencer caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “And did you know that bats can live more than 30 years?” Her eyes became glassy as she scooted closer to him. “And did you know that they can fly at up to 60 mph, in fact the Mexican free-tailed bat can reach up to 100 mph, making it the fastest mammal on earth.”

(Y/n) was so close to him, their noses almost touched. Spencer’s heart began to beat faster. His hands were still on her face. He wanted to pull her closer and kiss the pain away. His eyes flickered to her lips and then back to her eyes. “Thank you, Spencer.” She whispered.

Before she could close the distance between them, the door opened with a bang. The sound made them jump and separate.

Marshall walked in with a grin on his face. “Look at you lovebirds, I hope I’m not intruding.” (Y/n)’s eyes fell on the suitcase in his hand. Two other men followed Marshall into the room. Both were armed. Marshall gave one of them a signal. The man left and came back with two chairs and rope. (Y/n) felt her stomach cramp and the thought what was going to follow. Her and Spencer didn’t move. The other two men left, leaving them alone with Marshall.

“I really didn’t want to interrupt.” he spoke. (Y/n) shot Spencer a quick glance. None of them spoke. She could see Marshall’s facial expression change slowly but surely. The self-assured, mocking look was being replaced by impatience, anger and aggression. “Go on.” He continues while pulling out his gun. “Go on, Dr. Reid, do what you were about to do!”

Spencer looked at (Y/n) but he still didn’t move. He could see the tears gather in her eyes. “I said do it!” Marshall shouted. He was losing it. There was nothing left of his cocky grin. Instead, his face was distorted into a grimace. “Do it or I’ll shoot her right now.”

Spencer straightened his back. “You won’t. You need her, you need us both for your revenge fantasy.” “Do you want to test me?” There was something absolutely insane in Marshall’s eyes. The clicking of the safety being disabled rang through the room. “I said do it.” He was calm again but there was something in his voice that made (Y/n)’s stomach turn.

“It’s ok.” She whispered to Spencer. He didn’t look half as calm as he looked an hour ago. He cupped her cheeks again. “You’re going to be fine; I promise.” He pulled her in until his lips were on hers. They tasted salty from her tears, but they were soft. For a moment he forgot where they were. He had wanted to kiss her for so long. She melted into him, grabbing his dress shirt to pull him even closer. The urgency in her movement almost drove him insane.

“Get in the chairs.” Marshall’s voice interrupted their moment. Spencer pulled away, locking eyes with (Y/n). Her cheeks were flushed and there was a glint in her eyes.

The ropes rubbed against her wrists and ankles. They were too tight to move. Marshall paced in front of them. He had opened the suitcase on a small coffee table. (Y/n) didn’t need to be an expert to know it was full of torture instruments. Every fiber in her body wanted to run when he pulled out a big hunting knife and walked towards her.

“Don’t touch her!” Spencer struggled against his constraints. “Leave her alone!” Marshall let out a laugh. “You know it doesn’t matter which one I chose you’ll both feel it.” He pretended to ponder for a moment before he continued talking. “I still think I’ll start with her. How does it feel not to be able to do anything to help her?” He shot Spencer a look. That shit-eating grin had returned to his face.

He turned to (Y/n). “Where do we start?” He lazily dragged the blade across her collarbone before making a cut. (Y/n) hissed. She felt something warm drip down her chest. Involuntarily she remembered that the killer would spare her face like he had with all his other victims. Her best guess was that he liked to look at them when he had his fun with them after they were dead.

Marshall made another cut, right under the first one. (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut. Her jaw tensed as she tried not to make a sound. She heard Spencer inhale sharply. She remembered, Rory Marshall wasn’t hurting just her, he was hurting Spencer too. She would have given anything to protect him. If he would hurt only her, she could endure it knowing he spared Spencer, but this wasn’t the case.

The only thing she could protect him from right now was the first hand experience of being tortured and hopefully the mental scars that would remain. She knew she could handle it, for Spencer. He didn’t deserve this, any of it. She just should’ve told Hotch about the soul mate thing and they could have prepared differently. But now it was too late for that and minute to minute the pain made it harder to think.

There was a loud ringing in her ears and her mind was in a fog. After a while she couldn’t hold back the cries. She didn’t want to give Marshall the satisfaction, but it was too much. As if that wasn’t enough, she could hear Spencer too. She didn’t know how much time had passed when Marshall finally backed away from her. Her whole body was sore, and her cloths were damp from her own blood. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but she kept staring back at Marshall. It took her a moment to realize, why he had stepped away from her. His phone was ringing. He took a look at the display before letting out a groan and answering.

“What!? I’m busy.” He snapped. Silence followed. “Alright I’ll be there, give me half an hour.” Then he hung up. “Sorry, kids, I’ve got places to be but don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Before leaving the room and locking the door, he undid Spencer’s ropes.

As soon as they were alone Spencer jumped from his chair rushed over to (Y/n). He still felt the echoes of her pain, but it wasn’t half as bad as the pain she was going through. While his body was intact, hers was cut and bruised. He tried to untie her, but his fingers were trembling too badly.

“Are you ok?” Spencer looked up in surprise as he heard her talk. A nervous laugh left his throat. “You’re asking me if I’m alright?” She nodded. “He hurt you too, didn’t he?” “It’s ok, it’s fading.” That wasn’t entirely true. He still felt the sting of the cuts. He took a deep breath and started to undo the ropes. Finally, the knots loosened.

“Can you stand?” He asked. (Y/n) shook her head. “Ok, I’m going to help you get to the bathroom, we need to clean you’re cuts.” He managed to get his arm under her to give her some support. After ten painful minutes they reached the bathtub. Spencer unzipped her dress. “Is this ok?” (Y/n) just nodded absentmindedly. He left her underwear on and sat her into the tub. He found a towel, held it under warm water and proceeded to clean her up. She watched him with half lidded eyes as he carefully dabbed the cloth over her wounds.

“This is not how I imagined you seeing me naked for the first time.” The ghost of a smile appeared on her face. Spencer paused for a moment to look at her. “You imagined that?” A tint of pink appeared on her pale face.

“I know you find it hard to believe, that girls think about you that way, but they do. I do.” Spencer stared at her. He hadn’t realized she really liked him like that.

“How did you imagine it?” He asked as he continued to clean her. As much as he wanted to know, he also needed to get her mind off what was happening right now. She shot him another look. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover-boy?”

He let out a laugh. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

After a moment of silence, she spoke up. She didn’t look at him. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the marble floor of the bathroom. “I don’t know. Maybe we both would have been working late and there was no one else except us. And I would walk over to your desk to ask you something and of course you’d know the answer. You always know the answer to anything. I’d listen to you talk...I love when you talk...” She looked so tired. “And I wouldn’t be able to keep it to myself anymore and I would tell you how I felt about you...and you’d kiss me and I would kiss you back...” She hissed as he cleaned on especially deep cut.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” His worried eyes found hers. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “I’m sorry.” He repeated and placed a kiss on her forehead. When he pulled back, she looked at him with wide eyes. “Can you do it again?” “What?” “Can you kiss me, like you did before?”

Spencer searched her face for a sign of what was going on in her head. Her telling him about what she imagined him doing to her and asking him to kiss her did things to him. Things, he

hadn’t experienced before. He didn’t really know what to do. He didn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerable state, but he felt like she needed him.

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead again but before he could, she grabbed his face and pulled him down. “I meant like this.” She whispered before closing the distance between them and capturing his lips. The smell of his cologne still lingered, she needed it like oxygen. She needed him. She placed several more desperate kisses on his lips before pulling back to look at him. A second later Spencer’s hands were on her cheek and on her neck to pull her back again into another kiss. He had imagined this a hundred times but the reality of her soft and lips against his finally made him understand what Edgar Allan Poe had meant by “We loved with a love that was more than love”.

He felt her shiver. He pulled back. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He helped her out of the tub. After he had dried her and given her one of the bathrobes, he helped her into bed.

(Y/n) was tired...so tired. Her head was spinning but she knew she wouldn’t be able to get any sleep. “Can you stay with me?” She asked. “Of course.” He sat down on the bed. Her eyes wandered over his figure. He had taken of the tuxedo, so he was left with the white dress shirt. He had rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, just the way she liked it. The shirt was stained with her blood and it took her back to this reality.

“You know he does this on purpose.” Spencer’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” “He gives us so much time alone, so we get closer and it’s even more painful when does those things to us.” “I don’t care, I won’t leave you alone. Also, we must find a way out of here.” “There is no way out. We have to pray the team finds us before it’s too late.” “There has to be a way out. And we’ll find it. Try to get some rest now.” “I can’t sleep.” “You haven’t even tried yet.” “But I know I can’t.” “But you have to. Pain tolerance is reduced by sleep deprivation.”

(Y/n) shot him a look. “Thanks for the heads up.” Spencer slipped under the blanket and laid an arm around her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. She felt the vibrations through his chest as he began to talk again. “Randy Gradner holds the record for the longest period without sleep. It was 11 days and 25 minutes. He set the record in 1964 when he was only 17. They monitored his health. He had problems concentrating and struggled with paranoia and hallucinations. On the last day he was asked to subtract 7 repeatedly starting with 100. He stopped at 65, when asked why, he said he’d forgotten what he was doing...”

(Y/n) didn’t hear the rest, Spencer’s voice had lulled her to sleep. He felt her shallow but regular breath on his neck. He closed his eyes. He would get her out of here.

Chapter 5

(Y/n) woke up exhausted. They didn’t sleep much. When they woke up it was still dark outside. It took her a second to realize what had woken her up. The door had been opened very loudly and her and Spencer were dragged into the living room area. They were tied to the chairs again. The ropes burned against her already bruised wrists and ankles. To their surprise the two men who had tied them up left. They were alone again.

(Y/n) turned to Spencer. “Please tell me you have a plan. We need to get out fast. If Marshall stays on track, we have less than 48 hours.” Spencer’s brows were furrowed. She could practically hear his mind work. “We need to check the windows if they open. Maybe we can get some sort of sign outside.”

“What if it doesn’t work, what’s our plan B?” “Currently we don’t have a plan B...”

They sat there almost 4 hours before Marshall entered the room. He looked exhausted. (Y/n) felt a twinge of hope. The FBI knew his identity, there was no way he could hide for much longer. “You know, they’ll catch you. You won’t get away with this.” She said.

Marshall turned around at her with a surprised look on his face. “I thought I had messed you up pretty good last night. And you’re still talking back.” He gave her a smile that made her skin crawl. “Maybe this time I’ll try your little boyfriend.” (Y/n) saw the blood drain from Spencer’s face but his expression didn’t change. She knew he was stronger than most people would give him credit for. She wasn’t most people but the thought of him getting tortured made her sick. It wasn’t about the fact that she would feel it too, seeing Spencer in pain was almost worse.

“So, what’s your deal?” She asked. Anything to get him talking, to figure out why he was killing these people. Marshall let out a laugh. “So brave today, aren’t we?” “Why do you keep killing soulmates? Feeling lonely? Didn’t mommy give you enough love when you were a kid?” She saw his smile fade. “Or what, maybe you were in love and she turned you down because she had found her soulmate?” Bull’s eye. His face turned into a grimace again.

“Shut your mouth!” He raised his hand to slap her, but he caught himself just in time. For a second he seemed to try to get his rage under control. Then he leaned down to whisper into her ear. “You’re nothing but a filthy whore and by the time you get out of here there will be almost nothing left of you to identify the body.”

(Y/n) held her breath. She had gained precious information. His main target were the women. He was projecting his abandonment on them. The men were just there because it made the whole ordeal more painful. He had raped the women after their death to regain power, power over the soulmate bond.

“You’ll always be alone, killing and raping these women will never compare to a true connection and you know it.” (Y/n) said. Spencer stared at her. She wasn’t interrogating anymore; she was making him angry. And then it clicked. “(Y/n) stop.” He shot her a pleading look. But she didn’t pay him any mind but instead continued.

“So, how did she break it to you? Did she at least tell you in person?” Marshall took on the color of a plum. “Oh.” A cold laugh escaped her lips. “She didn’t. You weren’t even worth telling face to face.”

“SHUT UP!” Marshall grabbed a glass from the coffee table and threw it at (Y/n). She managed to dodge it and it shattered on the wall behind her.

Spencer began to panic. “(Y/n) stop, I know what you’re doing, stop it you’re going to get hurt!” While he was tied up, there was no way he could help her.

“Is that all you got!?” (Y/n) threw the word in Marshall’s face. His hands were trebling. “You’re ruining everything!” “Oh, am I? Am I ruining your little revenge fantasy? You know that it doesn’t matter how many people you kill; it will never be the same as the time you killed her. She couldn’t fight back, could she?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Marshall took the hunting knife in his hand making his way to (Y/n). To her surprise he didn’t cut her, but the ropes. He grabbed her arm and threw her on the ground. “I’m gonna show you fight!”

(Y/n) struggled to get on her feet. She was still weak, but the adrenaline kicked in as soon as he swung the knife in her direction. She turned her head frantically to look for something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes fell on an expensive vase. She grabbed it and threw it at him. While dodging it he lost the knife.

Everything moved in slow-motion as both made a run for it.

And then she had it, she had the knife. Her fingers curled around the handle. She raised her arm but before she could slam the blade into her attacker, she heard a gunshot.

The first thing she felt was her arm going limp. A few seconds later realization hit her and then a wave of pain washed over her. For a moment she thought she had to throw up. Her vision went blurry and the last thing she felt was a burning hot sensation and wetness on her arm. She heard Spencer yell her name before she lost consciousness.

When (Y/n) woke up again she was sitting in the chair, arms and legs tied up. The pain from her arm radiated through her entire body. She had trouble focusing. The first thing to catch her eye was Spencer whose gaze was fixed on her.

“Oh, thank god you’re awake!” She had never heard him sound this scared. “(Y/n) look at me.” Her head was heavy...her eyes were heavy. “(Y/n) look at me.” She managed to raise

her head, so she was making eye contact. “Listen, you have lost a lot of blood and you’re still bleeding. You need to somehow put pressure on the wound. It’s in your right arm near the shoulder. Try to lean against the chair with that part of your arm. It won’t save you, but it’ll hopefully keep you from bleeding out till I can help you.”

She struggled to hold her eyes open, let alone understand what Spencer was saying to her. Another person appeared in her field of vision. “Just let me help her!” This was Spencer’s voice. “Why should I? I’ll let the bitch bleed out, it’s what she deserves and you’re gonna watch her die.” Was this the unsub’s voice?

“But this is not how you operate normally. This is not how you get your satisfaction, do you want all of this to have been for nothing? You really let one of your men take the kill-shot? She won’t die by your hand but by that guy’s.”

There was silence. After what felt like an eternity, she felt the ropes loosen around her hands and legs. She felt two familiar arms around her. Everything went dark again.

“(Y/n) can you hear me?” This was Spencer’s voice again. “Spencer...why did you put me in the tub again?” She murmured. “What are you talking about? Open your eyes, look at me.” The panic in his voice hadn’t faded. “I’m wet, why did you put me under the shower?” “I didn’t please just open your eyes.”

(Y/n) felt like her eyes were glued shut. After a struggle she finally managed to open them a bit. She was greeted with Spencer’s face hovering over her. Her eyes wandered over his figure and widened as she saw him covered in blood. She wanted to sit up but a sharp pain in her arm held her down. She hissed.

“Spencer what happened, are you hurt, why is there so much blood? Let me help you...” “Calm down, it’s not mine.” He hesitated for a second. “It’s yours. You were shot and almost bled out.” “What? What happened?” You had the knife but before you could do anything, one of the bodyguards came in and shot you, he must’ve heard the commotion.” “Are you ok?” “Will you stop asking me that? You got shot!” “Exactly! You must be in pain too.” “I’m managing, it’s not so bad.” “You’re lying.” “Please don’t worry about me, ok?” “But I do, I worry about you all the time, I know you can handle yourself, but I care about you and I don’t want you to be in pain because of me.” “It’s ok, really.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Spencer bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s focus on how we get out of here.”

“Have you checked the windows?” “They won’t open, it doesn’t surprise me though. We’re on the 30th floor, of course they’re shut.”

(Y/n) let her head fall back onto the pillow. “We’re screwed.” Spencer’s brows furrowed. “What are you thinking?” She asked. “The glass...”

“I don’t follow. The shards aren’t big enough to use as a weapon when he comes back.” “No, that’s not what I mean.”

Without saying another word, he got up and walked into the bathroom. (Y/n) heard glass shattering. “Spencer are you alright?” He came back into the room with a piece from the mirror.

“We can use this to send out an S.O.S. signal.” “How?” “Just watch.”

Spencer walked over to one of the windows. The sun shone into the room. He positioned the mirror in a certain position so that it reflected the sunlight and threw a patch of light onto the ceiling. He moved it so the light would go out of the window. He moved the shard in specific intervals.

“You’re a genius.” (Y/n) almost wanted to laugh. With a little bit of luck, someone would see the light signal. “I know.” He gave her a small smile.

Spencer repeated the pattern until the sun went down. “Now we pray someone saw that.” “Let’s hope it won’t be too late.”

He walked back to the bed. “You have to promise me something.” “What is it?”

He waited for a moment before answering. She looked awful. The bathrobe was soaked in blood, so was her hair. The parts of her skin that showed were covered in cuts and bruises. Her eyes were framed by dark circles. “Promise me you won’t make him angry again. I know you’re trying to protect me, but I wouldn’t know what to do if you sacrificed yourself so that I can get out of here.”

“I can’t promise you that.” “(Y/n), I’m serious.” She could see tears gather in his eyes. “Please...” The urgency in his voice made her heart ache.

With her good arm she reached out to put her hand on his cheek. “Alright, I promise.” Spencer closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She managed to sit up and then position herself on his lap so that she was facing him, legs hooked around him. When he looked up at her there was nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” (Y/n) whispered before leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. Spencer wrapped his arms around her waist, careful not to touch her injured arm that was now bandaged and resting in a makeshift sling. Their chests were pressed together, and she could feel his heartbeat. Her breath became heavier as her fingers made their way into his hair and she tried to pull him even closer. (Y/n)’s cheeks began to heat up. She pulled away to whisper in his ear. “I need you so bad...” She felt him shiver underneath her. She continued to kiss his neck, relishing in the small sighs that escaped his throat.

She was just about to undo the buttons to his dress shirt when he grabbed her hand. “Wait...” “What?” “You can’t do this.”

“What? Why not? I thought you...” She looked around for a few seconds, anything not to meet his gaze and stood up as fast as she could. “I – I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed...I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable...I’m sorry.” Embarrassment washed over her. “I don’t know what came over me, I should’ve asked – I...”

Spencer stood up too walking towards her. She moved back and let out an insecure laugh. “I’m really sorry.” “No don’t be, it’s not that I don’t want to it’s just...” She still couldn’t look at him. “I don’t want to do this when there is a possibility that you just want this because of the circumstances. You might just be feeling about me this way because we’re in a life-or-death situation and I’m taking care of you. I don’t want this to happen just because you project these feelings onto me and regret it once we get out of here.”

(Y/n) stared at him but couldn’t say a word. Instead, Spencer continued. “It’s just, this has happened to me before, kind of, and I don’t want to...” “You don’t want to go through that again, I get it.” She slowly walked towards him. “Then we wait. But I want you to know that I’ve wanted this before we got caught up in this mess and the only things I regret are the ones I didn’t say to you sooner and that I didn’t have the courage sooner. I know this is important to you. I would wait a hundred years if that’s the time you needed. Just promise me you won’t forget me in the end.” She gave him a small smile. He smiled back and pulled her into a hug, still careful as to not to hurt her.

“I could never forget you.” “Can I still kiss you?” Spencer looked into her eyes and he knew he would never be able to say no to that. “Yes, please.” His voice barely a whisper, he cupped her cheeks and pulled her in. This kiss wasn’t desperate, it was sweet and full of unspoken promises and confessions.

Chapter 6

The BAU team had gathered around a table at the precinct. They had defeated looks on their faces. Hotch turned to look again at the wall where they had gathered their information. Morgan and Elle sat at the table, going through the casefiles again. Morgan closed the files and let the folder slap on the table.

“Hotch, please tell me we have a plan?” Hotch didn’t answer immediately. Before he could, JJ walked in. “I have news. There has been an S.O.S. signal from a hotel window at the Palazzo. It could be nothing, but it could be them, we need a SWAT team.”

Morgan jumped up. “I’ll call Garcia to see if she can find them on security footage in the lobby.” “Right, Elle and I will talk to the SWAT team, we may have to prepare for a possible hostage situation.” Hotch said and walked out, Elle right behind him.

(Y/n) and Spencer sat back-to-back with the couch, facing the window. Marshall had come back earlier and this time he hadn’t let (Y/n) distract him from Spencer. He didn’t look good. (Y/n) had taken care of his cuts, just like he had done for her.

“Tonight, is the night...” (Y/n) said while looking out the window. “It’s gonna be alright.” Spencer turned his head to her for a moment. She didn’t seem panicked anymore. She had been when Marshall had tortured Spencer, but after she had taken care of him it was like she had resigned herself to the fact that there was no way out.

“Spencer?” “Yeah?” “I need to tell you something.” “No, you don’t.” “I – I don’t?” She raised an eyebrow.

(Y/n) positioned herself to face Spencer. “Why?” Spencer turned around too. “I know the speech. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want you to talk like we’re going to die tonight.” “But we could die, and I don’t want to die without having told you how I feel.” “Then I guess you’ll have to survive tonight if you want to tell me how you feel.”

They looked at each other in silence for a while. “I lo –” “No.” Before she could end her sentence, Spencer dipped down to shut her up with a kiss. “You tell me when we get out of here.” “You’re a horrible person.” A smile tugged at her lips.

It was almost idyllic, sitting in a room somewhere over Las Vegas, sun shining through the window. (Y/n) rested her head on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Can I tell you something else?” “Like the time you told me how you imagined me seeing you naked for the first time?” (Y/n) shot him a look. She felt her cheeks heat up. “I think we can both agree that was a moment of weakness.” Spencer let out a laugh. “I think I like your moments of weakness.” She gave him another look but then looked out the window again.

“You know, I still remember the first time I saw you.” She gave him a small smile. “I had just started working for the BAU. They called us in on a Saturday night, it was about the Keystone Killer.” Spencer smiled. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You were so quick to find clues in that word puzzle and...I don’t know. I thought it was cool. Also, you telling Ryan on what page of his book that Francis Bacon quote was on, was kind of funny. And you looked cute with your vest and you had your sleeves rolled up, just like now.”

“You thought I looked cute?” Spencer looked at the carpet, still smiling. (Y/n) nodded. “I did. And every time I saw you after that, I liked you a little more.” She paused for a moment. “The day I realized that I lo – I mean...you know, was on that case with Lila Archers stalker. I knew that I cared for you, but then I got jealous, I didn’t expect that. I had no right, still I knew then.”

He looked at her incredulously. “You were jealous?” She nodded and laughed. “It’s stupid, I know.” “I don’t think it’s stupid, I think it’s cute. Did you know shrimp can feel jealousy too?” “Are you comparing me to shrimp?” “Well apparently you do share some similarities.”

(Y/n) rested her head back on Spencer’s shoulder. “I’m so tired.” He gently stroke her hair. “Me too.” “Do you really think we’ll get out of here?” “I do.” He heard a quiet sniff escape her. When he looked down at her, he saw her cry. Spencer wiped away a tear with his thumb.

“Spencer, I’m scared.” “I know, me too.” He cupped her face. “But I need you to be strong.” “I don’t want to die.” She had trouble holding back sobs. “I just found you, I don’t want to go yet.” They scooted closer. Spencer pulled her face to his, so his forehead resting on hers. “I know, baby, it’s going to be ok.” “I can’t do it.” “Yes you can! You’re strong, I know that.” Spencer brushed his thumb over her lips. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” (Y/n) shook her head.

Spencer brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “When I saw you for the first time, I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t really know what to say. You were so confident, despite being new and I whished I could be as confident as you. So, I tried to impress you, I guess I know now that it worked.” He let out a small laugh. “I didn’t think someone like you would ever go for someone like me. I guess I tried to get you out of my head with Lila. Obviously, it didn’t

work. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve always admired your bravery, you never give up and you can’t give up now.”

“I’ve got them.” Gracias voice rang through the speakers of a laptop surrounded by the other team members. “They’re on the security footage from two days ago in the lobby of the Palazzo. Rory Marshall is with them. They take the elevator, from there I lost them.” “It’s alright, thank you Garcia.” Hotch said. “We know the signal came from the 32nd floor. “That’s still a lot of hotel rooms.” Morgan chewed on a pen.

“Garcia, check how many suites are on that floor.” Hotch turned to the laptop again.

After a few seconds of keyboard clicking, Garcia spoke up again. “There’s five suites.” “Thank you.” Hotch turned to the others. “Get ready, we have to go in now, they don’t have much time left.”

(Y/n) had fallen asleep on Spencer’s shoulder. She woke up from a loud noise. Marshall entered the room, gun in his hand. “Stand up! Both of you. Get in the chairs.”

Something was wrong. Marshall didn’t wear his normal cocky grin. His was erratic, sweat covered his forehead. They didn’t move. “I said now!” Marshall shouted, pointing the gun at Spencer. They hurried to the chairs. Not two minutes later, they were tied up again.

“Your friends are here.” Marshall’s face had returned to that grimace he wore when he was getting angry.

(Y/n) felt hope rise in her chest. But as soon as the feeling came, it left her. Marshall had no reason to keep them alive anymore. He had no time to live out his fantasy. On the other hand, her and Spencer were his ticket out of here. Correction, her or Spencer could be his ticket out of here.

Marshall’s phone rang. He struggled to pick it up with one hand, his other one still clammed around the gun, uninterruptedly pointing it at Spencer. “Hello?” (Y/n) didn’t know if it was the tiredness or the desperation, but she could swear the voice on the end was Gideon’s.

“They’re right here...yeah...” Marshall shot them a look. “Yeah...” He repeated and handed the phone to Spencer, or rather held it to his ear. (Y/n) could see Spencer visibly relaxed as he heard Gideon’s voice. “Yeah we’re fine.” He said and shot (Y/n) a look. “(Y/n) was shot but we’ve got it under control.”

“Ok, that’s enough.” Marshall took the phone back. “I want a helicopter. And cash. By 9 p.m. sharp.” He hung up.

(Y/n) shifted in her seat. There was no way, Hotch would give him a helicopter. Regardless, there was one more thing she wanted to know. “How could you tell?” She turned her head to Marshall. “Tell what?” He snapped back. She had to be careful, he was on edge, everything looked like a possible threat right now.

“How could you tell we were actual soulmates? I only found out the day before myself.” Marshall shrugged. “I don’t know, I just knew when I saw you.”

“Actually, I could have an explanation.” Spencer chimed in. “There are studies that show that predators can pick out people that have previously been victims. They subconsciously learn to read body language and micro expressions to identify them. Because of this you’re chance of getting assaulted are higher, if you’ve been assaulted before.”

“Ok, enough of this psychoanalysis-bullshit. Shut up, I need to think.” Marshall started pacing around the room again.

It didn’t take long before the phone rang again. (Y/n) could hear Gideon’s voice again. He tried to negotiate the release of one of them. “One of my agents has been shot, let her go and we’ll prepare your demands.” Marshall hesitated. “I’ll send one of them to the roof, but I’ll decide which one.” Without waiting for the answer, he hung up.

Spencer immediately propped himself up on the chair. “Let her go, she needs medical attention.” The grin had returned. “No, I think I’ll keep her. You can go.” Spencer began to pale. “Please, let her go, you can keep me.”

“Shut up, I’m calling the shots and I say she stays!” He waved the gun around.

(Y/n) turned to look at Spencer. “It’s alright, I’ll be fine, please just go.” He could tell she was scared again and this time there was nothing he could do to help her. Every fiber in his body screamed to stay by her side and not to leave her alone with this psycho.

Marshall undid Spencer’s ropes and pointed the gun to his head. “Go.” Spencer hesitated. He shot (Y/n) one last look. She mouthed the word ‘go’. The second the hotel door closed behind him Spencer started to sprint to the elevator. He pushed the button to the last floor a few too many times, as if that would get him up there faster.

When he finally arrived on the roof, where they had negotiated the exchange, he was greeted by the rest of the BAU. JJ pulled him into a hug before he was put in a bulletproof vest. “What happened?” Hotch and Gideon were by his side in seconds. “What does the situation look like down there?”

Spencer closed the last Velcro straps on his vest. “As far as I could tell, Marshall is alone. I’m guessing some of his men left, when they got wind that the FBI was raiding the place. (Y/n)’s been hurt pretty badly. One of Marshall’s men shot her in the arm. We could stop the bleeding but I’m afraid it’ll get infected. She’s tied up and Marshall is losing it. We need to go in now.”

“I understand.” Hotch nodded. “But we need to be careful. If we move too fast, he could panic and kill her.” He turned to Spencer. “I understand you’re impatient, but we need to keep a cool head.” Spencer nodded. As soon as Hotch stepped away to talk to Gideon, Derek came up to Spencer, reassuringly putting a hand on his shoulder. “Is it true?” He asked. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s head was every except on the roof. “Is she really your soulmate?” Spencer nodded. “She told me the night before, but we didn’t get a chance to talk about it.” “We’ll get her out of there, don’t worry, man.” Spencer gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Derek’s brows furrowed. “Wait, if she’s been shot, didn’t you feel that too? You need to get checked up by a medic.” “I’m not leaving until she’s out of there.” Derek had rarely seen this level of determination on Spencer’s face. He nodded. “I understand.”

(Y/n) felt the panic come back. Now that Spencer was gone, she realized just how much of her mental stability had depended on him. He was only gone for two hours now and he already seemed so far away. She would have given anything to be in his arms again now.

Marshall was still pacing through the room. She could tell he was weighing his chances of coming out of this alive. (Y/n) just hoped he wouldn’t come to the conclusion that there was no way out and decide that he would take her with him as his final act of revenge. It didn’t look good. He was talking to himself, but she couldn’t understand the words. She took a deep breath. Spencer would try to talk his way out of this, but because she had antagonized herself the day before, there was a slim chance he would listen to her. She had to try.

“Rory?” He snapped his head around, bewildered by the fact she had used his first name. She could tell, he wasn’t used to that. As a person with this much power and money, she could imagine that he had few people who were so close to him that they would address him by his first name. “Rory, I know what you’re thinking about –” “You don’t know shit! Why would you know what I’m thinking about?” “You’re feeling trapped and you try to decide what to do.” “Shut up!”

(Y/n) waited for a minute. “What was her name?” “What!?” “What was the woman’s name? The one that broke your heart.” Marshall hesitated before answering. “Heather.” “What did you like about her?” “She was smart, and beautiful. I couldn’t believe it when she said yes to going to dinner with

me.” (Y/n) could tell by the look on his face that he was reminiscing that time in his life. There was this almost soft look in his eyes. “If you walk out of here alive there is a chance you might find someone new someday.” She said cautiously, never letting Marshall out of her sight. Marshall’s face hardened.

“What the fuck do you know?” She had made a mistake. “There will never be anyone else for me and now she’s dead because of me!” He started to raise his voice and his movements became more and more erratic. “Why did she have to meet that guy? It’s her fault I had to kill her, if she’d just stayed with me, we could have been happy!” The crazy look had returned to his face. “You’re all like this! You go around, thinking you can play with people until some fucking asshole comes along who’s supposed to be your soulmate and you think that gives you the right to drop everyone!” In three big strides he was right in front of her, pressing the barrel of the gun directly to her forehead. “I should just kill you too, one less bitch to walk this earth, I bet your little boyfriend will be heartbroken.” She saw the ecstasy in his eyes. ���Maybe then he’ll know what it feels like.”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to conjure up images of Spencer. If she died here and now, she wanted him to be the last thing she thought about. She tried to remember the feeling of his lips on hers, the smell of his cologne, the softness of his hair and the sound of his voice hen he told her everything would be alright.

“I love you.” She whispered so quite that Marshall couldn’t hear it. A gunshot rang through the suite.

Chapter 7

When he heard the gunshot, Spencer froze. The SWAT team had stormed the suite, but he was still behind them in the hallway. The moment seemed to drag on forever. The sound burned itself into his mind. He wanted to move but the thought of what was waiting for him in that suite wouldn’t let him. In that moment he hated himself for not letting (Y/n) tell him those three words.

It wasn’t until Derek appeared by his side that he woke up from his trance. Spencer’s feet moved by themselves. He didn’t want to go into that room. As soon as he did, whatever had happened would irrevocably become reality. He hated himself for being such a coward.

“Spencer?” The floor was covered in blood, brain splattered across the carpet, that undoubtedly cost more than his entire apartment. She looked up at him with big eyes. He could see the body of Rory Marshall, who had spent his last seconds in shock as the SWAT team had kicked down the door and taken him out, before he could pull the trigger. His head was empty as he rushed to her, taking her into his arms, holding on to her like his life depended on it. He felt her sob into his shoulder. It was so good to hear her voice. “I love you, I love you, I love you...” She whispered. He pulled back just a bit to look at her. “I love you too, I love you so much and I’m so sorry...I could’ve lost you without telling you.”

She let out a weak laugh. He buried his face in her neck. “I’ll never leave you ever again, I promise.” “I’ll never leave you too, promise.”

The hospital room was dimly lit. Spencer sat at (Y/n)’s bedside. He had laid his head in her lap and fallen asleep with her fingers tangled in his messy hair. She watched his chest rise and fall peacefully. After a while she fell asleep too.

A few days later (Y/n) was released and Spencer insisted to take her home. As they stepped into her apartment, Spencer remained at the door, unsure of what to do. (Y/n) turned around. “Don’t you want to come in?” “Do you want me to come in? I thought maybe you wanted some time to yourself...”

(Y/n) dumped her bag on the couch and walked back to him. He was a bit taller than her, so she had to stand on her tip toes to reach him. She pressed a small kiss to his lips. “I want you.” She said quiet but determined. Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Maybe you should rest, you’re just tired.”

She grabbed his face. “Spencer, listen to me. I’ve had a whole week to rest. You don’t need to worry I’m not in the right state of mind to make a decision. I haven’t changed my mind about you.” She was so close, their lips almost touched. “If you want me to stop, I will...”

Spencer looked at her, feeling like he was in a dream. She kissed him and it was like his head was empty again. That didn’t happen very often to Spencer. There was always something, some thought, some doubt, eating away at him but when she took his bottom lip between her teeth, everything was gone. She took his hand leading him to the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of her bed, while she stood in front of him, taking her shirt of.

“Let me show you, how much I care about you.” She said, before straddling him. Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He had dreamed about this moment for so long, he was mesmerized by her. The signs of torture were still visible. He traced a few healed cuts with his thumb. He felt her shiver under his light touch. He looked up at her, meeting her half- lidded eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Are you nervous?” Spencer nodded. His fingertips kept wandering over her waist, caressing her soft skin. “You tend to have that effect on me.” (Y/n)’s smile grew. “I make you nervous?” Spencer nodded again. She raised her hand to run it through his hair. The slow strokes seemed to calm him down. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He felt her hands travel down his face, his neck, to the collar of his shirt. “Can I take it off?” Spencer opened his eyes again. “Yes please.” He watched her fingers unbutton his shirt. She moved painfully slow. Undoubtedly as to not overwhelm him, but something told him it was more then that. She was teasing him, and it was working. He felt the tension grow.

(Y/n) slid the shirt over his arms, fingers tracing over his skin. She felt him getting goosebumps and a slight shiver making its way through his body. She brought her hands back to his face, lifting it to make him look at her. “Do you know, how beautiful you are?” She whispered before stealing a small kiss. “I could look at you for all eternity and never get bored.” “Beauty in things exists in the mind which contemplates them.” “So we’re quoting Hume now?” (Y/n) smiled. “God, I love you so much...” Spencer pulled her back into the kiss. One of his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer.

(Y/n) pulled away. “Aren’t you getting impatient?” She stood up to take of the rest of her clothes, but Spencer stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. He stood up, so (Y/n) had to look up again to look him in the eyes. “Let me...” His hands wandered over her waist to her back, unclasping her bra. For a moment she mused where he had learned to do that so well, but the thought was gone as fast as it came when her undergarment fell to the floor and she suddenly realized how bare she was in front of him. The urge to cover herself up never came though. Spencer looked at her like he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and truthfully, he hadn’t.

They got rid of the rest of their clothes before (Y/n) led Spencer to the bed. She waited a moment on the bedside. Spencer grabbed her arm, to pull her into the bed. She landed in his arms but before she could get comfortable, Spencer rolled over, trapping her underneath him. A grin spread on his face.

“You can’t tease me forever.” His locks fell into his face, framing it perfectly.

He dipped down, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. He didn’t want to waste another second. He had waited for so long and then he had almost lost her. His lips traveled to her jaw, down to her neck. A sigh escaped her mouth. “Spencer...” She whispered. He continued to pepper kisses down on her chest, over her stomach. She felt his lips graze the skin on her inner thigh. One kiss at a time he came closer to the place she was aching for him to touch.

(Y/n) buried her fingers in his hair, guiding him. When his tongue slid through her wet folds, she couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. Between the obscene sounds, that filled the bedroom, she repeated Spencer’s name over and over, like a mantra. He loved to hear his name fall from her desperate lips. Her breath was getting irregular, he could tell she was close. He pulled back, only to lift himself up, so he could kiss her. He knew she could taste herself on him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

After a while, (Y/n) broke the kiss to sit herself up. She crawled over the bed, guiding Spencer, until he sat on the edge and she was kneeling on the floor in front of him. She ran her hands up his thighs, never breaking eye contact. She could tell, he was holding his breath.

“Relax...” She placed a few kisses on his thighs before slowly taking him into her mouth. Spencer inhaled sharply. Now he was the one with his fingers tangled in her hair, lewd sounds and profanities leaving his mouth.

(Y/n) could feel him trying to hold back but he was struggling. Satisfied with the effect she had on him, she started to work her way up his abdomen until she reached his neck, sucking on it, careful not to leave marks above where the collar of his shirt would close. She seated herself on his lap. Her hands reached around his neck for support when she slid down on him. Both took in a sharp breath. Spencer’s eyes were closed and his mouth slightly agape when he let out a soft moan. That sound alone could have driven (Y/n) over the edge. She waited a second to adjust to the feeling of being filled up by Spencer.

“You feel so good...” Spencer whispered in the crook of her neck. He sank his teeth into her soft skin, sending shivers down her spine. “You too.” She managed to say between breathy moans. Spencer had started to move slowly. His hands were tightly gripping her thighs to guide her own movements.

“Oh god...” She moaned while dropping her head on his shoulder. Her nails dug into his back. “Spencer, I won’t last very long...” “It’s ok, baby...” His strokes were getting deeper. “Say my name again...” “S-spencer I –” She felt her orgasm build up.

“Again.” “Spenc-aah”

Spencer could feel her tighten around him. Her nails left bright red scratch marks on his back. She cried out his name again and while she was wrapped so tightly around him, he felt his own release.

(Y/n) and Spencer were both panting heavily, sweat covering their foreheads. They just stared at each other for a few seconds. “You’re amazing.” A smile spread on Spencer’s face. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her cheeks were glowing red.

“I’m not the only one.” She smiled back.

After cleaning themselves up they laid back in the bed. (Y/n)’s head was resting on Spencer’s chest. He was playing with her hair while she drew small patterns on his stomach. “Was it how you had imagined?” Spencer asked. She raised her head to look at him. “Better.” A smile tugged at her lips. “I never imagined it could feel so right to be with someone.”

“Me neither.” He paused for a moment. “I love you so much, it’s driving me crazy.” (Y/n) propped herself up to get a better look at him. There was nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. “I love you too, I never want to spend another day without you.” “You don’t have to, I promise I’ll never leave your side.”

(Y/n) put her head back on Spencer’s chest. After a while she had fallen asleep. 

“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” - Aristotle

[lets-try-some-writing]

I have observed several types of fic writers, and so for kicks and giggles, here they all are. Each of them scares me for different reasons.

The Prepared And Ready To Publish™:

Several documents dedicated to worldbuilding, planning, cross referencing, character lists & traits, plot twists, and then the actual fic document.

Dedicated to the max to creating a rich world. Probably knows more about the niche thing than you ever will. 100% could have written a thesis and chose to do fic instead (or did both at the same time).

Created a masterpiece and promptly vanished off the face of creation before coming back in with another banger to crush souls and save fandoms.

Their arrival is akin to the birth of a new era because they never fail to somehow make a niche ship popular, make a headcanon fanon, or otherwise give so much depth and interest to a character or setting that whatever they have devised is largely accepted as gospel by their readers.

They either use a high end writing program or wordpad. There is no in-between.

Mysterious. Very mysterious. Reasons for this mysteriousness vary between fics and authors.

100000/10 would be friends with them if I could. Legendary writers. But also they scare me because ??? What void offered you such power ?????

The Baby Writer:

All vibes and loosely strung plots.

It may not make the most sense, but good gracious the dedication is there.

Notable lack of comprehension when it comes to characters and places, but it's bad form to not leave a kudo because it takes guts to post anything in fandom.

They are still figuring things out and their grammar or formatting (possibly both) is probably a mess, but they've put heart into their work.

Sweetest rays of sunshine who want to be involved and are eager to learn the ropes.

The fandom's young ward or despised new arrival (depends entirely on fandom popularity and age).

8/10 would happily offer advice to them. Just can't read their work for too long without wanting to throw it into grammarly. The fear factor comes in the form of the miraculous misuse of fandom terminology. (Yeah it's tough bud, the fanon is wild. But goodness that term/canon word does NOT mean what you think it does.)

The Smut For Your Soul:

Meticulously plans the smut with all the loving care of a sculptor.

Somehow plot got involved.

Miraculously, they managed to not include an iota of plot and it has somehow managed to work.

Headcanons abound and cuteness and or angst lurks merrily behind every corner.

The tags mean everything and nothing at the same time. They are but faint guides to the fae wilds ahead. Tread lightly.

Has a mountain of unfinished WIPs that will follow them to the grave or emerge ten years after conception to grace whatever fandom spawned the idea.

The fandom thanks them for their service, although often that praise is late or hits like a freight train.

???/10 I personally avoid smut but I have friends who write it so it really depends. Terrifying because you never know who falls into this role of writer. It could be anyone. Normalcy is a mask poorly adorned for the sake of conforming to The Great Machine.

The Angst Lord:

Has a million slightly different ways to hurt their blorbo. Each are somehow more horrifying than the next.

The embodiment of the iceburg videos seen all over the net. Ask one question and you shall unravel and scheme of torment so great you shall regret having dared to speak up.

Has dozens of WIPs or unwritten ideas that they claim they will return to.

They are controlled by passion and emotion and can and will insert their own complicated situation into a fic.

Almost nothing is off limits.

Arrives to the fandom ready to brawl and somehow ends up respected or feared. They often stare in bafflement as they end up unscathed and watch angry comments fly toward the arguably innocent shippers.

Generally some of the nicest people who happen to enjoy inflicting The Horrors upon someone fictional.

'10/10 would befriend and promptly regard like a wild racoon. Offerings of angsty ideas yield delightful commentary. But also I need to prepare myself for anything they say because O U C H my SOUL.

The General Writer:

Fluff, cuteness, possibly a delightful touch of angst and pure unbridled creative simplicity.

They may not have the most brutal or soul wrenching tale, but they always manage to write something that someone, somewhere, desperately needs.

Devastatingly underrated and deserves far more praise for their contributions to the fandom.

Produces some of the softest of scenes and the most touching of interactions between characters in a contained, careful crafted, tale.

Introducing new ships or family dynamics in such a tasteful manner that brain chemistry can easily be altered.

Arrives to the fandom as a lurker and shows their appreciation through their work. Oftentimes, they are very quiet and go unnoticed.

INFINITE/10 Love these writers, honestly a gift to fandom. The sheer level of dedication to producing fluff is astounding and scary all at once.

The OC X Canon:

Has so many ships and headcanons that it's astounding.

The lore development rivals IDW and Lost Light combined. All the kudos to them for putting their souls into their characters.

The dedication is mind boggling.

They put up with so much crap they could be in MMA Wrestling if the verbal assaults translated into physical strength.

Has so many adjustments to lore and whole AUs devoted specifically to creating a perfect world.

Skilled in the extreme (or not) at integrating their ocs into canon.

Arrives to the fandom not intending to make ocs. Leaves with seventeen leashes for their new abominable creations. Is loved or hated by literally everyone, sometimes for no reason.

6/10 perfectly lovely people but very niche in their interest and thus not everyone's cup of tea. Scary because that level of sheer willpower is meant for demi-gods.

There are more types of writers, but these feel like the big overarching ones. Which kind of writer are you? :D

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.1. how it happened:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1.2k

➴ author’s note: welcome everyone!! as i promised, here’s the start to our fuck buddies jack ‘n soph series<3 hope u love them as much as i do!

—♡

IT all started as a joke.

Not your career, no, that was very serious. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe how big you’d gotten. Seriously, it was like magic. People now paid to see your concerts, asked to take pictures with you and related to your songs, your situations.

How crazy was that?

But that isn’t the main joke.

It all started a few weeks after the release of your single, Nonsense. You were alone in your home studio, doing some writing and recording a few ad-libs for your new upcoming album— all songs dedicated to your shitty, fucking cheater of an ex, yeah— when Grace, your best friend and manager, barged in with her phone on her hands.

“Jesus,” you said, putting your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know how to knock? You literally scared the shit out of me, dumbass.”

“Knocking is for the weak. Also, I need to show you this. Ain’t no time for knocking.”

She sat on the chair beside you and showed you her phone. It was some kind of TikTok but even if you tried to understand what it was, you couldn’t.

“So?” Grace asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Hum,” you said, sounding uncertain. “Cool video! Are you leaving me for a TikTok career?”

She laughed out loud. “What?! You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” she showed you her phone again. “This, my love, is the New Jersey Devils account.”

“People who praise the devil like my songs? Didn’t see that coming…”

“Sophia, don’t you fucking tell me you don’t know who they are!” Grace furrowed her eyebrows.

“Hum… I do?” You lied.

She made a weird sound, which sounded a lot like a frustrated scream.

“They’re hockey players, they are in the NHL, National Hockey League. And this video alone has three million likes. And why, you ask me, little puppy,” Grace started using her theater kid voice and you rolled your eyes.

“Probably because they’re hot, I don’t know?”

“I thought that too. But then, I went to check the comments, and all of them were talking about your songs. So I watched the video and I realised, half of the team, grown ass men, were listening to your songs!”

Raising your eyebrows in shock, you watched the video again. And Grace was right. It was one of those “what are you listening to?” videos, but with a bunch of men wearing suits. And at least half of them said one of your songs. Mostly Nonsense, Espresso, Read Your Mind, and, shockingly, one of them even said one of your oldest songs.

Apart from that, the video’s caption said “should we make a Sophia Montenegro x NJ Devils collab??” and, to your absolute surprise, more than a half of the comments said “yes, collab, please!”

Which made you laugh. You were used to all sorts of people listening to your music. Kids, teens, adults, even old people sometimes, but hockey players? Those big ass men who liked to beat each other up during the games?

“That’s new, huh.”

“Apparently, people went crazy over the fact that they listen to your songs. And that’s not even the best part,” Grace squirmed. “Their marketing team reached out to your marketing team,” she pointed to herself. “And they asked you to perform at one of their charity dinners next month!”

You both yelled and jumped out of your seats to hug each other and jump around— being careful with her new Goddess braids. You were so grateful to have someone like Grace to help you out.

“This is, like, a huge thing for you, honey,” Grace teared up a little bit. She cried almost every time you got a new job. “They want to set up a meeting with you, nothing too fancy. They said something about the end of the hockey season and whatever that means, they want you in it.”

“That’s awesome, right?” You smiled. “I’m certain that you said yes already but I’m still going to ask you. Did you?”

“Duh, ‘course I did. You have a meeting with,” she looked at her phone again, reading something. “Shanon Anand tomorrow morning.”

“I love you, Grace Morgan.” You whispered, looking at the woman in front of you, your heart feeling full and warm.

“I love you too, Sophia Montenegro. Let’s rock some hockey boys.”

—♡

TURNS out that Shanon Anand is a very beautiful woman, with Indian features and a smile that would make any dentist proud.

“We are very pleased to have you here, Mrs. Montenegro.” She had a bit of an accent and it was so cute.

You smiled. “Thank you. It’s an honor, really. And please, call me Sophia.”

“Alright, Sophia it is,” she smiled back. “So, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Hockey world but we’re currently walking towards the end of the seven month season.”

“I have to be honest with you, all I know about hockey is that they skate on the ice and beat each other up. That’s about it, I fear.” You felt your face getting warm.

“It’s alright, dear, no one’s going to ask you questions about Power Plays or penalties,” Shanon laughed and you sighed, thankful. Interviews were something you actually enjoyed doing but answering questions you didn’t really know the answer sucked. “We will hold a charity gala next month, and Grace told us you are available?”

“I am, yeah,” you opened your planner, looking at your summer schedule. “I do have to be in California by the second week of April to perform at Coachella but before that, I’m free.”

“You would be needed in the last week of April, on the 30th. Is that okay?”

“I think so, yes,” you nodded. “Do you have a preference for a performance or?”

Shanon grabbed a huge binder and opened it. “Actually, we do have a few requests, I hope you and your team don’t mind them,” you nodded, grabbing a pen just in case you needed to write anything. “First things first, we’d really like it if you kept it all PG,” she smiled, looking embarrassed.

You laughed, nodding with your head. “I expected it already. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep my dirty mouth closed.”

“Perfect, thank you. Besides that, we’d request for at least three songs, and if you could maybe sing an acoustic version of them? It’s a night event and the vibes we’re going for are like, jazz club? Sorry if it sounds confusing, we’re still working on the details.”

“Acoustic? Yeah, ‘course. Do you have any songs in mind?”

“No, we thought it’d be better if you chose them. What suits your voice better and all of that.” Shanon ran her hands through her hair and blinked twice in a row. She looked stunning, but tired.

“Alright, I’ll think of a few options.” You nodded again.

“At the end of it, we’d like to take a picture of you with a Devils jersey, if you don’t mind?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t, really. I’m fine with it.”

“Perfect!”

The meeting didn’t last long after that and your mind was working really fast to try to have everything perfect. You still had more than a month to prepare so you knew everything was going to be fine.

At least you hoped so.

[ironunderstands]

My reaction (or rather rebuttal) to this amazing theory by Lalody’s lore; and how I think it exposes a problem with theory making in general

Now disclaimer, I would like to start off by saying that this is not an attack on the creator of this video in the slightest. This is a very well researched and thought out theory and I 100% understand why she came to the conclusions she did, even if admittedly I believe they are a bit of a stretch. I also am not here to debunk anything, lore is not my speciality or something I really care about in general, and admittedly I’m not very well versed in it even if I know the basics.

Rather, this post is going to be discussing this theory from a thematic/charaterization perspective, and why I think it’s wrong because of that- as well as how it exposes problems with theory making in general.

This is going to be mostly a stream of consciousness-style rant, and although I recommend you watch that video before reading this (both because it’s a) very good, and b) obviously relevant to the conversation), I’m going to be speaking very generally about the content in it, so you don’t necessarily have to watch it.

Alright, on with my major problem with this theory: ie, never in a million goddamn years would it make THEMATICALLY make for our dear Veritas Ratio to willingly become an aeon

His whole character is about being human and humanity man

Ratio, in essence, is the most human character in Honkai Star Rail, and I don’t mean that literally, as there’s reason to believe he isn’t.

Rather, him (as well as Aventurine and Acheron) are characters that embody the human spirit/what it means to be human.

I could talk about them at length later, but in Ratio’s case, the story makes a point that despite how remarkable his life and achievements are, he is still at his core, human, mundane, and not unique in the face of the universe- that is what makes him INTERESTING.

He objectively has amazing accomplishments- ones which by far qualify him to be a member of the Genius Society- Lalody mentions it herself (and thank god for that).

However, every step Ratio takes, he reaffirms his humanity and mundanity- LITERALLY

He calls himself a Mundanite constantly- hell he made a whole secret society of them, he believes that any person, fool or genius is capable of living their life to the fullest, and he dedicates his time trying to help them rather than chasing the stars himself. Ratio is very self aware, admitting he’s not good with people and can be rather abrasive, admitting he knows how he comes off to others, but refusing to change despite that because that’s who he is. His opening a chest voiceline has him saying that he accepts the material offer it values- like any man would. Never in Ratio’s life has he distanced himself or put himself above others, and the quest introducing him is called the MUNDANE and the Divine for a reason.

At his core, Ratio is no different from any other person and that’s what makes his objective exceptionality meaningful. He’s a character that smacks you in the face with how even the average person can achieve great things in live- that creativity and intelligence aren’t limited to Geniuses- aren’t limited to those acknowledged by Nous, by the divine.

Hell, that’s something I ripped straight out of his first character story because at his core this is who Ratio IS

He is a rejection of the divine- not an embrace of it

To make Ratio an Aeon would take everything he stands for away, and be a direct spit in the face to how inspiring he is both in universe and for the players.

Making a character whose whole thing is saying “you do not need to be extraordinary to do great things,” and then going “hah psych he’s a god actually and this is unachiveable for normal people, just like every other genius- you know, the people he stands against!” would just suck. It would suck. I don’t have more intelligent words for this other than saying that doing THAT would suck ass.

It’s not that Ratio couldn’t become an Aeon, it’s that he would never WANT to be one. It would be the most tragic thing ever to do to him, and would hurt him in every way possible to do so. Tearing him away from the thing he cares about the most, from what defines him as a person would be worse than killing him off in my opinion, and in universe he would hate that more too.

There’s several reasons why he doesn’t like the Genius Society, and their disconnect from humanity is one of them. Hell, when Screwllum invited him to work together, Ratio instead of centering the project in aeons, chooses to focus on people instead. Screwllum likens them to both ends of the spectrum- with himself and the rest of the Genius’s exploring Divinity, and Ratio Humanity- or rather Mediocrity.

That’s also why me and my Screwllum loving friend believe that in “The Mundane and the Divine,” Ratio is the Mundane and Screwllum the Divine, so to make both of them divine would ruin that dichotomy, and the whole opposites thing he currently has going on with Screwllum, Ruan Mei, and the Genius Society in general.

If he’s an aeon- if he’s divine too, then who is left to be the mundane?

2) Why is he stealing Ruan Mei’s and Acheron’s nachos

If any of our playable characters are going to become an Aeon, it’s her for obvious reasons. From a meta perspective, pulling that same shit twice or robbing Ruan Mei of the plot line she deserves and slapping it onto Ratio is cheap and stupid, especially considering he’s her narrative foil which only again goes to prove that it wouldn’t make sense for him.

As for Acheron, the reason I mention her is because the only Aeon I can actually see Ratio becoming is the Existence- who a) probably already exists b) finding them is her storyline anyways, and if anyone is going to become them, it will be her c) although I absolutely believe Ratio’s personal philosophy is incredibly similar to Acherons, they’d actually have to interact on screen once before it would make sense for that to happen.

Either way, the theory itself is an interesting premise, but there are far better characters to ascribe it to, which leads into my final point.

3) Why the hell would the writers do this?

Just because they can doesn’t mean they should, and from a thematic and character perspective, I have already gone over why if they care to actually do his character justice, they would never ever consider making Ratio an aeon, unless it’s against his will or something.

Which is why I think this video is actually an exemplar of the problem with theory making in all fandoms now a days- ie; people don’t actually stop to consider whether their theories make sense in the story.

And I don’t mean logically. Honestly I’m going to call this the Game Theory Effect because they do it better than anyone- just because something can happen in a story doesn’t mean it should.

The writers could make Ratio an Aeon, they could go “oops it was all a dream” again in Penacony and local astrophysicists could theorize on how I managed to throw a brick at my computer at light speed. They could do literally anything and justify it in the process because HSR is a work of fiction, but that does not mean the story itself would be good.

This is more of a criticism of how people approach storytelling in general, seeing media only for their plots and not for their themes, which is frustrating beyond words, because at least in my opinion, the most interesting parts of stories are their themes. Also, I feel that when debunking theories, people should focus less about the logic behind them, and more about whether they would actually make sense or not to be involved.

Moreover, Lalody’s video raises some very interesting ideas, and it’s caused me to think of a storyline involving similar elements- but in an opposite direction.

What if Ratio was initially Divine- but willingly became Mundane. Maybe it wasn’t willing and he was forced to be this way, but either way, it would make far more sense- and be far more interesting- if we see him reject divinity rather than embracing it.

It’s no secret Ratio’s lore is sort of a black hole at the moment, which is half the reason why so many crazy theories about him exist- we barely know anything about the guy personally. However, I’d liked to see it filled in a way that doesn’t completely demolish his current character, or who he literally is currently, as I rather like Ratio in his present form, and a bait and switch might actually drive me a bit nuts, just saying.

There’s plenty of speculation to be had, especially considering that one Cosmodyssey occurrence that haunts my every waking hour game please explain, but I’d like the hsr community to move away from the “Ratio is super special and extraordinary” direction, because what makes him interesting is the fact that he ISN’T

[princessfbi]

Do you still write for buddie or are you exclusively a bucktommy writer?

I write, as I always have, whatever brings me joy.

I'm going to say something and this is not directed at you Nonnie. It's just something I've needed to get off my chest and you've unfortunately opened the door. This is something that's been happening since the moment I "deviated" from what other people have been demanding.

Fanfic is not my job. Creating content is not my job. Crafting your escapism is not my responsibility.

I write for me. I write what I want to write and when I want to write it. I am not a machine. I am not getting paid. I am not here serve to the masses. The sheer entitlement some people have had these last few months has been exhausting. When we, the authors, see you talk about how we've "forsaken" you or you talk about how you can't understand what it is we see in something you personally don't want to read? The answer is simple: it's because we like it. It's because it brings us joy. It's because it's not fucking about you.

My fanfic is about me.

Let's look at the timeline of my works:

Most recent going down.

Bucktommy

Tumblr prompts which include Bucktommy, Buddietommy, and Buddie

Buddie

Buddietommy

Bucktommy

Buddie

Bucktommy

All of that has been written post 7x04.

Do you know how many words I have written for Buddie?

1,558,689 Words.

Over a million words have been dedicated to Buddie.

So excuse me for doing something else that may also bring me joy. Excuse me for having the audacity to not cater to your every whims and pleasure. Fanfics are a form of escapism. I get it. But this is not my job. This is not a Starbucks. I do not owe you anything and to imply otherwise just shows how much you truly do not value it. Half of you can't even be bothered to leave a comment. You spit in the face of people's joy and you have been cruel, mean spirited, and unkind. All of you.

I am a person with wants and needs including a moment of goddamn peace in this shit show of a world we find ourselves in. I am entitled to curating and creating my own form of joy. I am a person. I should not have to beg you to see that. And the fact that these last few months people cannot and will not acknowledge that makes me not want to write for Buddie ever again.

I'm going to because that is my joy. I am making the choice to share it with the world. But it will be on my terms. Because what I write is about me. It is for me.

So if that means I write for Bucktommy or Buddie or some entirely different show or movie that catches my attention then it will be because I have decided I want to do it. Not anyone else.

[lvndrdaaze]

OMG HI MY FAVORITE TUMBLR CREATOR I have an idea >>:D WHAT IFF Your favorite Genshin Men (Diluc) come home extremely late ((2:00 am late)) and you are MAD. So- after you express how you feel (NICELY OFCCC❤️❤️) they feel so bad that they spoil you ROTTEN. Anddd if you doo— then uhh I'll sing... SWAY BY MICHAEL BUBLÉ!!!

(Honestly— Micheal Bublé reminds me so much of Diluc idk why) ALSO TYY FOR TGD WRIOTHESLEY ALPHABET!!!

——🎵🎶🎼Anon (⁠ ⁠◜���‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

aaaaaaaa i'm sorry this took so long to get out (つ﹏⊂) i hope you like it!! i put my whole pussy into this one just for you <33

(also i've never thought about it but now that you mention it...yeah diluc does give michael bublé vibes ._. and now i'll never un-notice it)

Warnings: SMUT, includes use of 'pussy' and 'cunt', light hurt/comfort, crying, insecurities, oral (f!receiving), p in v, missionary, mating press, breeding kink (if you squint), biting, squirting

(fem!reader, NSFW so no minors!!)

Wc: 2.6k

The Dawn Winery was always quiet at this time of night, though you weren't usually awake to notice it. With the maids asleep and all other business concluded for the day, the only sounds in the manor's entrance hall were the crackling of the fire and the rush of blood in your ears.

Diluc was out again, fulfilling his self-imposed duties as he did every night.

Not once had you ever complained, knowing that the Darknight Hero was something of a coping mechanism for Diluc, but tonight, something about the quiet of the manor caused all of that repressed loneliness to well up from deep within your bones, streaming out in sorrowful trickles from where it had been locked away for so long.

You sat at one end of the sofa, staring into the fire. It reminded you so much of him, not only for the obvious reason of his pyro vision, but because of the burning intensity of it. Once, he would have been beside you, red eyes crackling with that same passion that few others recognised in him, hands exploring your skin like a new world made just for him.

But now, you were alone. All you wanted was for him to come home and take up the other seat, to take his place beside you and stay for a while. There were no doubts in your mind as to his adoration for you, you saw it anytime he spent so much as a few moments by your side. It was his dedication to protecting the city that drew him away from you, forcing more and more distance between the both of you.

If only his feelings of guilt weren't so much stronger than his love for you.

When the door to the Winery suddenly swung open, you were startled out of your reverie. Shooting a glance over your shoulder to watch him enter, you read the exhaustion written in every movement he made like a story you had read a million times before. His claymore was propped against the wall and his coat hung on the rack before he noticed you sitting there.

As soon as he did, his eyebrows furrowed. Even with such a look of concern, it felt good to have his eyes on you once again.

"Love?" He called out to you, consternation tinging his low voice. "What are you still doing up?"

How could you answer that? The truth, that you had been aching for him to return and spare you even a single glance, would only weigh him down further. The worst thing you felt you could possibly be in this moment was a burden to him; that would only push him further away.

"Just couldn't sleep." You lied easily, giving him what you hoped was a convincingly relaxed smile.

However, Diluc's frown only grew deeper.

"Love…you're crying." He pointed out gently, not yet moving from his spot in front of the sturdy wooden doors.

With a swipe of your fingers across your cheek, you found that he was right. They came away wet, glistening in the warm firelight.

"Oh…" You hadn't even noticed them until now, but suddenly, your lip trembled with the emotions just barely being held back. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

But your placating words only seemed to make him worry more. In an instant, he had crossed the room, kneeling before you and cupping your damp cheeks in his hands with a troubled look in his eyes.

"Please don't lie to me." He requested quietly. His thumbs swiped delicate lines beneath your eyes, clearing the tears that collected there.

His intense gaze was filled with such deep concern, such apparent care, it felt impossible to hide your feelings from him any longer, despite not wanting to cause him any more strain.

With a light sniffle, you dropped your gaze from his to your lap, staring down at your fidgeting fingers as they twisted around each other fretfully.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trouble you, I just…"

Your words faltered, and tears clouded your vision once again, streaming down your cheeks in hot rivulets. Diluc stroked your skin soothingly, waiting patiently for your words.

"I miss you, Luc." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "You've been so busy recently, and I don't want to take up your time when you've got so much on your plate already, but I just feel so…lonely."

The air was still for a few seconds after your admission, until you chanced a look up at his face. His expression was stormy, clouded with irritation, causing your stomach to drop. Of course, you were demanding too much of the man who already had so many people depending on him. With a shake of your head, you pulled away from his gentle touch.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to be a burden. I'll be fi-."

"No." Diluc cut you off with a firm shake of his head, taking your hands into his with the utmost conviction. "Don't apologise. Never apologise for taking up my time."

Your lip quivered once again, the vehement tone of his voice only making your guilt feel that much stronger. Of course, Diluc would be understanding. Why had you even tried to hide your feelings in the first place?

"No matter how busy I am, you are always my priority. I apologise for failing to show you that, my love." He spoke in a low voice.

One hand released yours as he wiped the tears from your eyes again, tilting your gaze up to meet his fiercely passionate one.

"Allow me to make it up to you, love." He murmured in a voice so gentle the steady crackle of the fireplace almost drowned it out.

His gaze was heavy on your rapidly easing expression as he approached slowly and grazed his lips over yours faintly. The aching tenderness of his mouth, the smoky scent clinging to his clothes, the warmth of his body so close yet so far, everything about the moment was so overwhelming. A soft whimper escaped you as he coaxed you into a careful kiss, easing your sadness with every reassuring brush of his lips against yours.

In your desperation to prolong the feeling, your hands gripped his shirt tightly, wrinkling the fine material in your fists. With his gloved hand cradling your jaw, he tipped your head back just slightly, providing him a better angle to glide his hot tongue against your lips as he deepened the kiss.

His free hand came down to rest on your thigh, skimming over the shape of your leg beneath your dress in a way that made you tremble with barely repressed want. Diluc noticed the shiver that ran up your spine at that slightest touch, and with a low rumble from deep within his chest, his wandering hand groped more firmly at the plushness of your thighs and his tongue tangled with yours in a display of his own growing need.

Your heart was racing faster than you thought was possible, the sound of blood rushing in your ears all you could hear. No thoughts made their way past the overwhelming feelings he caused to blossom within you. Eager fingers found their way to his nape, tugging the hair tie from his hair and threading through the fiery red locks. Diluc let out a groan at the feeling, and in an instant, his arms were looping under your thighs, scooping you off the sofa easily.

"Apologies, my love, I had not realised just how long it had been." He murmured, pressing one last kiss to your lips before heading towards the stairs with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist tightly.

"Allow me to make this right, yes?"

The heat in the bedroom was sweltering, radiating from where the both of you laid together for the first time in several days. Your clothes had been long since discarded, and your shivering body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

Diluc laid between your legs, sweat gluing a few red strands to his forehead in a way that was almost lewd on its own from your vantage point among the luscious pillows of his bed. Strong hands pinned your quivering thighs to the bed insistently, preventing you from closing them whilst his tongue explored your folds as though it were the first time he had ever done it.

Archons knows how many orgasms he had pulled from you so far; your throat ached with every keen and whimper you let out, and dull heat throbbed in your stomach with every dip of his tongue into your wet entrance as yet another high approached steadily.

Diluc's eyes were clouded with a lustful haze as he paid attention to every reaction you made and the lower portion of his face glimmered wetly with your slick, but he showed no signs of stopping yet. Even by tugging on his loose hair, you were unable to draw his lips away from your aching cunt- in fact, the action only spurred him on, drawing deep rumbles from his chest in response to the sharp sensation in his scalp.

"Luc, please…" you whined, though you weren't certain what it was that you were pleading for. The stimulation was too much, the thought of another orgasm overwhelming, but the idea of him retracting his tongue was even worse.

"Shhh…just one more, love." He mumbled huskily, his eyes slipping shut in contentment.

His lips lowered to your entrance, lapping up the essence of your arousal whilst his nose nudged against your clit, sending electric waves up your spine. Wetness soaked the sheets beneath your hips, and the fine silk was rumpled messily from your writhing.

Wet sounds filled the room as Diluc slurped obscenely on your pussy, every action he made undignified and animalistic with his need to taste you, to feel the way your walls clamped around his tongue as though desperate to keep him there forever.

He dragged the hot muscle of his tongue against your core slowly, swirling around your clit once, twice, then fusing his lips around the bud and sucking. Your back arched and your eyes clenched shut, a clamorous wail tearing through you at the same time as your pleasure peaked, every muscle in your body spasming in euphoria as another orgasm crashed over you. The whole room seemed to fade away, until all that was left was Diluc's mouth, working you determinedly through the peak of your pleasure.

The sensation was so intense, it took several seconds for you to come down. His lips withdrew, peppering light kisses along your inner thighs until your eyes had fluttered open again, searching for him blearily in the darkness.

He appeared almost smug, smiling contentedly as he kissed his way back up your body, lathing his tongue over marks that he had left on his way down. He worked slowly, his hands sliding up your sides and coming to fondle your breasts greedily, rolling your nipples between his fingers whilst he ran his sinful tongue over your damp skin.

By the time he reached your lips, you were whining and bucking against the mattress once again, still not quite satiated after all of the pleasure he had given you. Lying atop you like this, his cock pulsed with need between your bodies, and the slight twitch of him was all it took to get you going again.

"Do you think you can handle one more?" He murmured against your lips, his hips rocking against your stomach, staining your skin with pearls of precum.

"Yes, gods, yes. Please, Luc, need to feel you." Your words came out as desperate sobs, and he breathed a shaky exhale as he leaned his weight onto his elbows above your shaking body.

"Archons…" Diluc whispered, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to nibble softly at the skin there. "You are simply irresistible."

Quickly, he aligned himself with your entrance, running the warm head of his cock through your folds to collect the combination of your juices and his saliva, before pressing it against your tight hole with a groan.

The stretch of him, so thick and hard as he pushed his way into your cunt, was almost more than you could handle this soon after such an intense orgasm. His pelvis ground up against your clit when he bottomed out, stuffing you full with his aching cock whilst you cried out for him.

He held himself there for a few moments, short, gasping breaths leaving his parted lips as he steadied himself. The lushness of your walls wrapped around him was too delicious to be over so soon.

"I promise, I'll never leave you alone again." He whispered, fixing his gaze on your cock-drunk expression as he delivered one slow thrust into your heat.

"I'll keep you satisfied from now on, my love. Never going to let you go without my touch again. I'll dedicate my whole life to you, okay? You'll never be lonely again, I swear."

Diluc was babbling unconsciously with every thrust he gave, all sweet words and promises in a deep, velvety voice that pushed you further into those blissful feelings.

All you could do was moan and sob incoherently in response, tears of ecstasy wetting your lashes as the shivers running up and down your spine grew more and more violent, wracking through your body in tremorous waves in time with every wet slap of his hips against yours.

Strong hands found their way under your hips, lifting them off the mattress slightly so that he could press your thighs upwards and practically fold you in half against the mattress. The tip of his cock reached even deeper inside you in this new position, and your walls pulsed around him in response to the intense sensations.

"Archons, you feel too good…" He moaned, leaning down to lathe the sensitive skin of your neck in hot, sloppy kisses that were so unlike the tender way he usually kissed you. "Gonna cum for me again, love?"

Frantically, you nodded. The invisible string in your stomach tightened until your entire body felt like a piece of elastic ready to snap as his pace only grew more animalistic. White blind spots began to grow in your vision with every invasion of his thick length into your aching hole, and your symphony of moans were surely waking up the maids on the other side of the mansion by now.

"Gonna fill you up, my love. Gonna cum so deep, you'll always have me in you." Diluc growled. His pace was faltering, each drag of his cock inside you losing their rhythm but gaining strength in his wild desperation.

Your responding whine was music to his ears, and he panted hot breaths against the sweat-slick skin of your throat.

"Luc, 'm gonna cum-" Your words came out slurred, as though drunk on the pleasure. Even your eyes could hardly stay open, so overwhelmed with extraordinary pleasure that every muscle inn your body seemed to be clenched tight.

"Me too, fuck- cum for me, darling. Let me feel you, need to feel you." He groaned, sinking his teeth into the column of your throat. "Cum for me, and I'll give you everything."

That was all it took to send you crashing over the edge into impossible pleasure. Your back arched and a loud scream of ecstasy tore out of your throat. Wetness coated his stomach as you squirted with the force of it, finally pushing him over the edge until he was crashing down to his own climax. Diluc let out a loud moan at the same time as yours, and your synchronised cries of pleasure filled the once silent Winery with the sound of your devotion.

[libraryofloveletters]

I Spy With My Little Eye

Dominik Szoboszlai x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dom is so cheesy but he also disappeared and you're like ??, a bit plot heavy, so many random tasks, reader thinks dom has lost his mind, major sweetness at the end.

Word Count: 970

Author's Note: dedicated to my fellow dom enthusiast @curiousthyme <3

--

This Christmas was different. Dom made you work for your gift rather than giving it to you; following the clues through the neighbourhood to your final gift.

There was some time before Christmas and Dominik suggested a trip to Germany, the place you two called home for quite a bit of time while he played with Leipzig. You still had your place there as you bounced back and forth between there and Liverpool for work so you two were staying there for a few days.

You felt the mattress dip, your boyfriend's warm hand on your forehead. His lips by your ear, "I've got some errands to run, sweetheart. I'll be back later." he whispers, kissing your head.

A mumble and you feel around, patting his cheek before rolling over and going back to sleep.

It wasn't until an hour later than you got up, finding Dom's side of the bed still empty. There was a note on the pillow, you assumed it was just him reiterating what he had told you before he left, knowing you'd be too sleepy to really listen to him.

You unfolded the page, reading the words he had scribbled down.

check your favourite hiding spot for a gift - xoxo D.

The sun peeked through the curtains, you forced yourself out of bed to go into the living room. The ottoman sat on the rug, you smiled to yourself. Dom never used the ottoman, in fact he hated the thing; it was ugly and clunky but you liked it for some reason so he left it. Plus he knew you used it as a hiding spot because he often forgot it was there.

Pushing the top open, there's a box wrapped up with ribbon and a note tucked under it. The note was opened first.

get ready and head to Julie's for the next note - xoxo D.

You had no idea what he was up to but you folded the page again, taking the lid off of the box to find a dress you had been telling him about for weeks. You haven't been able to find it in stores or online. You're not sure how he did it but you're sure he used his 'connections' as he called it to find it for you.

As the note said, you went through your morning routine and got ready, your coat wrapped around you and boots on as you headed out and into the snow.

The bell rings on the cafe door, the smell of baked goods welcomes you back home. "Y/n!" Julie beamed, you weren't expecting to see her in, especially not on a Saturday morning.

"Hey!" You smiled.

"Here you go," she passed you your usual coffee order and an envelope. You reach for your purse to pay her but she shakes her head, "Dom paid."

You smile, opening the envelope and reading the note.

meet me where we had our first kiss - xoxo D.

It takes you a moment to think back, it feels like a million years ago but then it hits you, the park.

You thank Julie for the coffee and you're off again, making your way through the snow, cursing Dom in your head for choosing a snowy day to do whatever it was that this was. It's a short walk to the park, specifically to the park rangers' office; yes you had your first kiss outside of their office. You were on a walk and it started pouring rain, Dom pulled you there to keep you out of the rain and kissed you for the first time there.

It was more romantic in the morning, but thinking about it now made you giggle.

You looked around for your boyfriend, hoping this would be the last of the walking as your legs were killing you.

Someone pats your shoulder, a park ranger. "Are you y/n?"

"Yeah," you nod, the man hands you yet another envelope. You're a bit annoyed, knowing you'd probably have to walk some more but you open it.

follow the ranger. no more walking, I promise - xo D.

It's as if he read your mind. "Lead the way," you tell the man, he nods and leads you over to one of their little cars.

You knew this path, it led to the gazebo at the edge of the park that overlooked the water. You get out of the car, thanking the man as you walk over to the gazebo. There are candles and flowers everywhere. As you make your way closer, you're expecting to see Dom but you don't.

A bit confused, you look around but then feel someone tap your shoulder; Dominik is on one knee behind you when you turn around.

"Dom.." You look at the man, your jaw hangs open slightly.

"Y/n," he smiles, "the last 5 years have been the best of my life, as cheesy as it sounds. You've been through the good and the bad, stuck to my side no matter what and I can't thank you enough for that. I hope you know how much you mean to me and will always mean to me so," he smiled at you again, opening the small box in his hand.

"Will you do me the honour and marry me?"

You're in shock, nodding but then you remember you actually have to answer him. "Yes!" You lean down, hands on his face as you kiss him. Dom stands, still kissing you for a moment before he pulls away, slipping the ring onto your finger.

Your boyfriend- fiancé, pulls you back into a hug, kissing you as he picks you up, giving you a good squeeze.

"I know you've always wanted a Christmas proposal but not on Christmas." He laughs, forehead pressed to yours.

You smile, tears in your eyes as your hand presses to his face. "It was perfect, perhaps less walking would have been better but still," you giggled, Dom kissed you once more, hugging you.

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x afab!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: 18+, smut without plot, handjob, blowjob/face fucking, facial, cum eating, praise, slight degrading if you squint, a dab of female masturbation 

Summary: There is no better way for Miguel to distract himself from a horrible workday then with a little assistance from you.

A/N: First time ever writing smut, so I apologize if it's horrible and it's the least sexiest thing on earth!

Word Count: 2.8K (barely edited)

The multiverse is a place that needs constant attention. It never resets, never takes a break. And for Miguel, it means the same thing. He needs to work tirelessly on it. It’s a very real possibility that if he looks away for even a few seconds, it could come crashing down with no way to restore it. In mere seconds, a world could be erased as if it never existed. Millions of lives can be lost. The people he loves and dedicates his life to protecting can slip through his fingers. He knows from experience, and he never wants a fresh reminder. He doesn't want anyone else to know how that feels.

So, it isn't uncommon for him to stay in his office, studying fluorescent yellow screens while the world is asleep. He spends more time in his office than he does anywhere else. So much so that it's more of a home than his actual home is. It's a sad thought, but he doesn't particularly mind it. He has Lyla to keep him busy and he gets the occasional visits from Peter B. and Jessica, paired by random drop-ins from other Spiders for missions. But, today's events have his face in a deeper scowl than usual. His brows creasing his skin in leftover annoyance and his eyes glaring at the information before him. 

An anomaly had caused more trouble than predicted, causing great casualties and a mess of reports to read through. Every little thing seemed to make his jaw grind too. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that he had been running for more than 12 hours without a proper meal, but he was snapping and growling at anyone who looked at him for too long or caused even the slightest inconvenience. Even Lyla stopped her usual teasing in favor of not being put on “Do Not Disturb” until further notice.

Of course, news of his erratic behavior had reached your ears almost instantly. You had been in your own dimension for the past few days, being unneeded for any missions and using the time to take care of any trouble in your world. This also meant you and Miguel had little to no contact for those few days. But even so, you knew exactly where to find the hunkering man at such a late hour. 

You open a portal and step through, tilting your head up to stare at the floating platform. You keep your movements minimal to reduce the amount of noise as you sling yourself up, landing with a soft thud that doesn't catch Miguel’s attention. You walk gently up to him and keep your movements slow to not startle him when your hands softly land on his shoulders. Your palms make quick work to ease the knots in his shoulders as you lean down and kiss the side of his neck. 

Before you even speak, hell before you even touched him, Miguel knew it was you. It was almost impossible to keep your presence hidden from him. He had perfectly memorized the way your steps sound. On any surface. He knows the way your feet drag slightly when you walk on carpet and the rhythmic pattern of your feet on hardwood flooring as you purposely walk from plank to plank. He especially knows that when you step with your right foot, the sound is lighter than the ones from your left as you walk along the metal platform of his office. And even if he didn't recognize you from your steps, your wonderfully sweet smell filled his nose the second you stepped through the portal.

"Hey, Migs. I've missed you," You whisper in his ear as you take in the smell of him. It’s one of your favorite smells in the whole world, and it drives you crazy that the only source of it you have while you’re away is one of his old college shirts that has started to smell more like you than of him. 

You didn't wait for him to respond as you wrapped your arms around his upper chest from behind, earning a small nip from Miguel’s fangs to your wrist as a greeting. You giggled and moved around to sit on his lap, being sure to not obscure his view of the monitors. Miguel wraps his arms around you lazily before looking down at you with tired eyes, "What are you doing here? It's late. You should be in bed." 

You tilt your head and raise a brow, "Oh, yeah? You're one to talk. After the day I heard you had, you should be the one at home sleeping right now. The multiverse knows you need it." Miguel can't fight the small smirk that forms on his face from your sass. God, he really did miss you while you were gone. 

"The multiverse is inanimate. It can't form any independent or coherent thoughts and conclusions," Miguel teases back as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to consume your scent. It helps his sore and stiff muscles relax and he almost purrs at the comfort it provides his overused mind. You reach a hand up and massage the back of his head, earning a pleased sigh from the man. He pulls away slightly and looks back up at you, "But, seriously, why aren't you at home?" 

You roll your eyes at his nerdy, know-it-all response before pecking his lips. You can't help it when he has that tired, pouty look on his face. It's adorable. "I'm here to convince you to take a break. Go to bed. We can go home and rest for a few hours."

The offer is incredibly appealing. He almost agrees immediately, the words on the tip of his tongue. But then he becomes aware of the yellow lights glowing on your skin and his eyes focus back on the screens before him. He had so much work left to do. Reports that still need to be read through, data that needs to be sorted, calculations that need to be made, earths that need to be scanned for irregular activity. The list is endless, infinite. He can't afford to rest. Even if it's what he so desperately needs and wants at that very moment. 

Before he has the chance to tell you no, you press your lips to his. It's slow and it tries to make up for the time you've been away, but it quickly speeds up and turns into something more hungry as you reposition yourself so that you're straddling his lap. Miguel hums and grabs onto your hips, giving it a tight squeeze. Your hands get lost in his hair and you move from his mouth, to his jaw, and down to his neck. You kiss and suck and nibble at the skin, mumbling against him, "Take a break, Miguel. Let me give your brain a moment to relax."

A soft groan parts from his lips as your suggestive words float into his ears and down to his cock. It strains against the material of his suit, wanting to be freed from its confines. He gently grasps you by the back of your neck and pulls you face to face with him. He stares at you with red, lust filled eyes as he nips at your lower lip before smashing your lips back to his. Another heated kiss is his sign of agreement as his hands roam around your body. He grabs at what he can as he travels his hands up and into your hair, tugging slightly to earn that small moan that he knows you’ll give him. 

In seconds, his suit is deactivated. It disappears entirely and you gasp as you feel his hardness press up against you. You pull away from him to catch your breath as your hand reaches out to stroke him. A sharp hiss leaves his lips as your soft hands play with his balls before your thumb comes up to rub at his tip in slow circles. His hands leave your hair to grip onto your waist, squeezing the skin through your suit as he looks down to watch you play with his dick. The sight makes him thrust his hips up into your hands and you squeeze him a little more tightly. 

"Ay coño, your hand is so soft," Miguel murmurs as your hand pumps him a few times. You practically beam at his praise before you give him one last, sharp jerk. 

He furrows his brows as you stop, about to open his mouth in protest before you stand up and remove your suit. It falls to the ground, forming soft padding on the hard floor before you sink to your knees before him. Quickly, Miguel spreads his legs apart so you can fit yourself between them as his hand reaches down to caress your cheek, "You look so pretty like this, on your knees for me."

You can't help the pleased sigh that leaves your lips before you press a gentle kiss to his tip. It's swollen and red, begging for attention as precum dribbles from his slit. Your mouth practically waters as you kitten lick him, earning a deep groan from Miguel. He watches attentively as you happily let his taste bloom across your tongue. It's a bit salty, but completely masculine. Completely Miguel. You run your tongue down his entire length a few times, each time stopping to suck his tip gently before continuing down and back up. You only stop when Miguel tugs sharply on your hair. 

"Stop teasing, Y/N," He growls at you as he lifts your face away. You actually whimper as distance is put between your mouth and his cock. The sound only fuels Miguel’s ego, knowing how needy you are to taste him. To please him. 

He guides your mouth back over him, watching as you open your mouth to take him. You hum when he lowers your face and he enters your mouth. He reaches the back of your throat, and you hold yourself there to get used to the feeling. After a few seconds, you bob your head back up, only to take him to the back of your throat again. Miguel moans and holds your hair tighter,  and it encourages you to continue. He grits his teeth and lets you have control for a few minutes as you speed up. 

But your control soon comes to an end as Miguel's other hand comes to cradle your head. You look up at him to find him staring at you with the same heated lust in his eyes. A low rumble vibrates from his throat when your eyes meet his. He can't help but think how pretty you are with your shiny eyes looking up at him through soft lashes and your skin all flushed from his attention. "Keep looking at me, don't look away."

He starts off slow, pushing your head down and guiding it back up. He takes his time with your mouth, jaw grinding at the warmth that surrounds his cock. He watches as he disappears into your mouth, only to be revealed again with your saliva coating him. The sight makes him feral, and he speeds up without warning. You gag as he rapidly moves your head and you bring your hands up to grip his thighs for support. Your eyes are hooded as you look up at him, moaning around his length at his roughness. You’re sure that you're forming a puddle of arousal underneath you. The scent of it is thick in the air, it smells so heavily of the both of you. It's almost dizzying.

For Miguel, it's worse with his enhanced senses. It's making it hard for him to control himself. Being able to smell your slick so heavily, knowing it's because it turns you on that he's using your mouth to get off. There isn't anything better than being completely consumed by you, by your touch, your mouth, your scent. It makes him snap. He holds your face in place, deciding it better to fuck himself into your face. He repositions his hands, getting a better grip on your hair as he thrusts into your mouth. You gag repeatedly and each time he thrusts out, saliva trails after him and runs down your chin. It's messy and primal. And you can't help yourself from trailing your hands down your body, nudging your panties over to play with your clit. 

The movement instantly catches Miguel’s attention and he groans. He wishes he had a better view. His position on the chair, combined with his dick in your mouth, obscures the view of your pretty pussy. But he can still see the small movements of your body, the way your shoulder moves and the roll of your hips causes the fabric of your suit to shuffle. He almost pulls out to see more, but when your body jolts with a whine from the contact on your clit, he knows that this time he’d be satisfied with listening. You can give him a clearer view later. 

“What a dirty girl. You like this so much, don’t you? You like me fucking your pretty little mouth? It makes you so desperate to touch yourself, right? Poor little Y/N,” he coos teasingly at you as he thrusts harder. Your throat contracts with more gags and it makes his eyes roll back and he leans his head back slightly. It feels amazing and he’s sure that he could spend the rest of his night thrusting into your mouth. 

You feel wet and sticky, everywhere. Your chin and neck are covered in globs of spit and tears fall from your eyes. They run down your face, getting caught in your lashes and mixing with the saliva on your chin. Your body has built up a thin shine of sweat and it both cools you down and heats your skin. Your pussy is completely drenched and you can feel your arousal slide down your thighs, if it isn’t rolling down your thigh then it's on your fingers and being massaged into your throbbing bud. The constant stimulation and the pure pleasure you get from Miguel using your mouth meets in a warm ball in your lower stomach. Each thrust and circle threatens that ball to burst, and you moan to let Miguel know. 

But he can already tell, even if he can't feel it physically. It's in the way your eyes are fighting to stay open and the slight twitch your body has. He knows you’re close. And he is too. His body is tightening and his thrusts are more sloppy and rushed as he lets out a series of curses and grunts. He’s trying to keep it together, but it's so hard when your desperate noises travel along his dick with such intensity. It only takes a few more thrusts until his cock twitches out of your mouth and he moans out a swear as his hot cum releases onto your face. His body shakes slightly and his breathing is irregular as he looks down at you, and the sight makes him harden again. 

The thick, white fluid runs down your face slowly, some of it collecting in your mouth with your eyes closed. Your body is shaking too, and Miguel realizes you finished too. Your hand is still lazily rubbing circles on your clit, but it slows into a stop as you open your eyes again. You flutter your lashes up at him and Miguel gives you a slow smile. You return it as one of your hands reaches up and pushes some of his cum into your mouth. His eyes instantly darken as you swallow with a hum. Delicious. “Don’t want to be wasteful, right?” You giggle, resting your cheek against one of his thighs and his hand rises to stroke your hair. 

He chuckles back and shakes his head, reaching over to grab napkins from his desk. He gently wipes his release off your face, letting you suck on his fingers when his cum clings to them. He throws the soiled napkins in a nearby trash can before pulling you up and onto his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, sprinkling it with slight kisses, “Thank you for the distraction, mi vida.” 

Your smile widens as you kiss the top of his head, “Was it good enough to convince you to come home with me to take a bath and sleep?” The hope is clear in your voice, but so is the understanding if he decides to refuse. But Miguel nods against your shoulder and releases you when you move to get up. 

You kiss his hand as you pull him up, stepping over your dirtied suit as Miguel’s reappears. He picks it up for you, holding it to his nose for a second and then letting his hand drop back down at his side when you hit his arm in embarrassment. He can only chuckle at you before activating a portal back to your place. Then, he turns back to you with a coy smile as he remembers an earlier thought, “I believe you owe me a show, anyways.”

Miguel did end up getting a clearer view that night, along with his much needed distraction.

So sorry for any mistakes with the spanish. I know next to nothing about the language so I’m limiting the amount I use it heavily. But I hope you enjoyed it!

[neo-my-geo]

Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.

However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.

The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction. 

“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”

Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!

Yes, I will explain how to use commas.

It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.

There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people. 

What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone. 

The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.

You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it. 

Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates. 

Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.

With that out of the way, let’s get going!

I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems. 

The apostrophe

This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent. 

Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.

A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.

There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence. 

When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.

A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:

What’s (what is)

They’re (they are)

It’s (it is)

Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.

Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!

Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.

Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’ 

The comma and the semicolon

You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.

Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true! 

The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced. 

In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause. 

An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.

A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere. 

A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.

Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not. 

When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma. 

Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks. 

Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!

If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.

When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma. 

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.

Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses. 

Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life. 

It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.

It’s really that easy! 

Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives. 

The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives? 

Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.

When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well. 

Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.

When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma. 

Other common problems

This section is dedicated to putting specific grammatical errors into words, along with how to solve them. 

Not sticking to the chosen point of view

Always choose your point of view before you start. Is it in the first, second, or third person? Is it omniscient or limited? Does the point of view switch during the story?

First person perspective is told as if the POV character is directly describing their experience to the reader. The character uses I and we to describe their own actions.

Second person perspective is told as if the reader is a character in the story and their actions are being described to them. This is the rarest, and the most difficult to write.

Third person perspective is the most common and the simplest to write. The events of the story are a separate entity from the reader altogether and the narrator uses they/he/she/it pronouns for characters. 

Omniscient perspective means the narrator of the story knows all, including the thoughts and feelings of each character. 

Limited perspective means the narrator of the story only knows what the POV character knows. 

Past and present tense

When you decide between writing a story in past or present tense, it is crucial that you do not switch between them unless it is narratively intentional. Reading a past tense story that mistakenly switches to the present tense is like being pulled out of the room someone is telling a story in and suddenly taking part in it yourself. It’s disorienting and gives the reader unwanted pause.

Overly-long paragraphs

A common adage spread by English teachers is that most paragraphs should be at least eight sentences long. This is great advice for beginner essays. You’re writing fiction. 

If you have a new thought, start a new paragraph! A concise and well-read single-sentence paragraph is infinitely better than one that drags a thought for too long. Aim to have a blend of paragraph lengths when you write, alternating between the descriptive and the punctual. 

Dangling participles

A dangling participle is when a word is used to describe a noun that isn’t actually present in the sentence. Much like how a sentence without an action isn’t grammatically correct, neither is a sentence without a subject. 

Malapropisms

A malapropism is when an author mistakenly uses one word or phrase instead of another similar-sounding one. I’m not about to list every single malapropism ever made, but these are the ones I notice most often:

To comprehend is to understand something, to apprehend is to arrest someone, and to be apprehensive is to be anxious or fearful of something bad happening.

Could care less means you do care. Couldn’t care less means you don’t.

A lot means a large amount of something. Alot isn’t a word and you shouldn’t use it.

The only real solution to using malapropisms is to make sure you fully understand any words you use in your writing. Never guess, and make sure you always google it. Having beta readers also helps.

If you made it this far, congratulations! You now know the most common errors in amateur fiction and how to solve them! Thank you for listening to me complain for two thousand words. 

The most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to make mistakes. First drafts are always gonna be a little bad. The real key to success is knowing what your end goal is, and how you plan on achieving it. Here’s hoping this was a helpful tool for that!

Shoutout to @salmonandsoup for helping me think of the list of issues to address! You're a real one. Also shoutout to my mom, who doesn't have Tumblr. Also the third person. You know who you are.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 4: Let's Give Wildbow Some Fucking Well-Earned Praise

So, I've had a decent number of harsh words for Wildbow over the course of my liveblog, and also over on my main blog. Overall, most of them are about his WoGs or Ward, rather than Worm itself. I've also commented I don't think I'd enjoy talking to him (not that he's likely to ever reach out, but you know). But I've had some complaints about Worm too.

But the thing is, I did read Worm. I read the whole thing. A desire to write fanfic would not have kept me going through all 30 chapters if I hated it. Or even if I just thought it was like, mediocre. It's 1.6 Million words. I am not that kind of masochist.

Life is short, Worm is long, if I wasn't enjoying it, I'd have left a long time ago. So I did enjoy it.

And the thing is, even if I never pick up his other works (and I do intend to try some), I am no doubt going to have more harsh words for Wildbow in the future. And I have no doubt that even if I love say, Pact or Pale or Claw or Seek or... I dunno, his next Web Serial after Seek called *throws a dart at a wall* Iota, I'm sure I'll have harsh words. I can't think of a single creator of anything that I don't have at least some issues with something they put out.

And to be fair, even most people who fully like Worm and Ward tend to have some harsh words for him now and then, or at least negative ones.

BUT, I liked Worm. And so, I think it's fair to really sit down and give him some unalloyed, unambiguous praise.

The Pace of Output: This is probably low-hanging fruit, but it is genuinely impressive that Wildbow wrote Worm as quickly as he did, sticking to a schedule as consistently as he did. I am in awe. I think even if I didn't have to work at all, and was able to write all the time, I wouldn't even be able to match half of what he did in the same amount of time, in terms of output. Wildbow accomplished something that is genuinely amazing here.

The Shards, Entities and Powers: Shard mechanics are not my favorite thing about Worm. But the whole thing really does come together well. It's a pretty cohesive, pretty well directed power system to tell the story he wanted to tell. I don't consume much cape fiction, so I don't know what stuff beyond Marvel and DC are really like in terms of how powers work and how they all fit and service the story, but for Worm, the Shards work to tell the story he wants to tell, really well. I read and write mostly fantasy and sci-fi, and spend a lot of time in worldbuilding spaces dedicated to both, or have at least, and a lot of would be writers fall into the trap of trying to overdevelop the magic system or the rules for whatever crazy supertech their story has without really stopping to figure out how it fits for the story they want. That's generally not a great approach if the intent is to have a story, and not just a cool setting or a fun magic concept. Wildbow created a pretty cool system, and then managed to avoid the common trap of getting so attached to the power system and it's rules that it interfered with telling the story he wanted to tell. Instead, he built and bent the system with his story as the driving purpose, and kept it all cohesively working within that framework.

The Interludes: The Interludes are without a doubt some of the best shit in Worm, overall. The way he is able to convey so much about these characters in these cutaway scenes and expand the world and advance the story and develop ongoing themes and narratives? Nearly every Interlude is doing like, 4 things at once, I swear to got, and the way he juggles that all together is awesome, and the end result is great. I will never go back and reread all of Worm from start to finish. But I will sure as shit go back and read some of the interludes just for the sheer fun of it. The way these cutaways manage to get you inside the head of these people, see their perspective is really good, takes real skill to make you go 'I really kinda see Saint's POV here' for his Interlude, for instance. Really good.

Amy Dallon: So like, I think it's clear I love Amy. She's fascinating. I have big feelings about her, and she's a divisive as fuck character. But Amy Dallon is the most fascinating character in Worm for me personally and she's genuinely one of the most fascinating characters in anything I've read. I'll have more to say about Amy if I manage to get a version of that Amy retrospective I'm happy with written, but unironically? Wildbow, thank you for writing Amy Dallon. I bitch about how much she's taken over my brain, but Amy is such a fascinating, interesting, enjoyable and engrossing character that she has been a net positive for me. Reading Worm and reading about her has enriched my life. Thank you. You did a damn good job with her in Worm, Wildbow.

Taylor Hebert: As I said back in Part 1 of this retrospective, I was worried I'd find Taylor insufferable. Her capacity for self-rationalization should be an issue for me. It often can be in other characters. But Wildbow managed to write Taylor amazingly. He created a character who is multifaceted, multilayered, complex, nuanced and yet, pretty simple. She's intensely relatable, and yet, she is also deeply, deeply alien and abnormal. She does absolutely insane shit, and yet, when you're reading along with her POV, so much of what she does and thinks makes her seem like the only sane woman in the room. Even when you take a step back and realize what she does, she's very hard to not like. Even if you want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, you like her. She's great. She's an everywoman, she's no woman. She's clever and stupid and brilliant and unimaginative all at once. She is... She's Taylor Hebert. She's an antihero, a villain protagonist, a hero hero and... she's just some fucking girl.

Heroes/Villains: What I mean by this bulletpoint is - villain protagonists, making villainous characters sympathetic - that's easy enough to do. And making the 'official heroes' of a setting not really as great as they might seem is also fairly easy to do. But it is hard to pair the two together as well as Wildbow did. The Undersiders do a lot of bad things (I would disagree with people who say they're all *fundamentally* bad people - even Regent... ish, kinda sorta. He's so fucked up due to his background that calling him fundamentally bad is probably not really accurate. Though some people draw red lines around some of what he did, so that's more subjective. But like, the key thing is that he did that while *also* still making them pretty sympathetic without like... running protag-centered morality and still making them have done quite a bit of good (and a ton of bad) AND the handling of the heroes. Because it really does look a lot like he's doing a bit where the 'official heroes' are the real bad guys of the story between things like Armsmaster's shit and Interlude 2, but he also doesn't actually do that. And he executes it in a way that is really well done, without doing the thing where the narrative acts like someone is evil but like... the person isn't.

This isn't really an exhaustive list of 'everything Worm did well' or even 'Everything I liked about Worm', but it is stuff that Wildbow did really fucking well, that I really liked or am impressed with, and that he deserves unalloyed praise for.

There are reasons why I kept reading Worm, and those are some of the reasons.

(There could also be a point on how he manages the readers' information diet, but it's really hard to say for sure if it's something that I really liked because I came in so thoroughly spoiled. From what I can see, I think I would have liked it and given it the unalloyed praise normally, but it's impossible to say because I knew what 75% of these clues were ahead of time).

Mr. Bow - you did a lot of shit I don't like. But holy motherfucking shit, you did some goddamn amazing stuff too.

[iwashie]

˜”°•.Marc Snuffy as your S/O (18+).•°”˜ (gn!reader)

One in a Million. There’s no other man like you.

Green flag!

Ah, the boyfriend, friend, counselor, father if need be, all rolled into one.

The calm, understanding, and encouraging partner. The push you need when you’re unsure of things.

He doesn’t mind talking about your relationship, but he prefers to keep it private so people don’t hurt you.

Age doesn’t matter much to him, younger or older is just a label. He loves you for what you show him.

“Wicked games,” partner.

Boyfriend who has made mistakes in the past and does everything to make it right with you.

Physical contact, words of affirmation, and quality time are his love languages.

Boyfriend who likes to take you out to dinner in open places, expensive or cheap restaurants, the important thing is to be with you.

Boyfriend who loves to hug and dance with you, kisses on your neck and ‘I love you’ whispered all the time.

He takes you camping, mountaineering, cycling, forces you to do some physical activity for your well-being, and because he likes to hear you complain, but always accepts what he proposes.

You two never fight. Conversation is always the first option and if you can’t talk, each one takes the time to cool down and talk.

Boyfriend “daddy issues” themed.

Affectionate nicknames only in Italian.

He loves to teach you Italian and is happy when you keep Italian with him or call him “amore.”

Partner who knows and loves to cook for you. He cooks while you tell him a story, drinking wine and making him laugh.- Cooks all your favorite dishes.

He likes it when you help him cook or teach you the best dishes.

Partner who always innovates showing that they love you.

The best and most expensive gifts for you.

He loves his car, but lets you drive it, on the condition that you don’t crash his most precious possession.

Boyfriend who likes to do the things you like. The dates are divided into things he likes and things you like.

Partner who prefers wine to beer, but drinks beer to go with you if you like it.

There’s always time for you, even if his schedule is full. He takes time just for you.

He is dating with plans to marry in the future.

Inside jokes and lots of laughs. He likes to joke with you, calling you “kid” or “elderly.”

Partner “you can wear whatever you want, I know how to fight”.

Boyfriend who likes to stay at home as much as he likes to go out.

Sundays are dedicated to parties with family and friends.

Old Italian money.

Partner who likes to buy books for you to read to him when you two are in bed. He likes to read to you while you’re on his lap.

Summer holidays were all over Italy, yachts, speedboats, boats, the most expensive tours.

Partner who loves to see you in the stands, wearing his shirt, and runs to kiss you after the game.

You’re practically Lorenzo’s parents.

Boyfriend who encourages you to have independence, but if you want to be a trophy wife, he doesn’t see a problem.

He feels a little jealous, but not obsessive. He trusts you above all else.

Likes old rock or old Italian romantic songs. Always sings to you while dancing with you.

Always “my partner will like this” or “my wife/husband said this the other day”.

“National Anthem,” partner.

Likes to always be touching you; Hand in hand, hand on waist, on the back of your neck, arms intertwined, embraced.

Boyfriend “damn papi, you’re a rare breed, no comparison and it’s motherfucking scary. Let a hoe know I ain’t sharing. You’re the type I wanna marry and keep you merry. I’ll put on a ring when you’re ready.”

Partner who loves to have calm and passionate sex, leaving you lost in so much love. Hands clasped, foreheads glued together, sweaty bodies glued together, slow kisses and loud moans.

“Last night you were screaming for this old man, carina”.

Boyfriend “I want to fuck you slowly with the lights on”.

He loves missionary to see your reactions, but he also likes you on top, your tits swaying in his mouth, struggling to receive his entire member. He likes to leave hand marks on your body.

Partner who eats you out for his own pleasure and eats you anytime. He likes to eat you in the car with the doors open in a secluded place. Wandering hands are also fun for him.

Baths together always, washes your hair and blows dry, puts soap on you, hot water and massages. He sleeps cuddling with you. He likes to be the bigger spoon or have you with your head resting on his chest.

Boyfriend “Salvatore”.

He would like to have children, but he respects your decision.

Boyfriend who would ask you to marry him on the field, the stadium packed, in one hand the World Cup and in the other the ring.

Groom who cried the whole wedding.

Husband, who is thankful every day for having the best family in the world.

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works