#how do i explain my relationship with posting ??? it’s complicated

[objectosexual]

I mentioned talking more in-depth about this in the tags of the original post but I think that sort of talk belongs here more than it does on main... Ramble incoming

It's no secret that I am hopelessly in love with Clockboy. I know from a realistic point of view, it's not reciprocated. It's probably not healthy. It's all me projecting thoughts and feelings onto an object. Him being a public object I can have no (personal) physical interactions with also complicates things. There is never going to be a reality where he will ever fully be able to meet all my physical and emotional needs in a romantic relationship (whereas my cars, for example, at least met the physical needs).

And yet... This love has not wavered at all since it began. Even on the nights when I'm in bed, alone, in physical pain because of how badly I long to be able to embrace him, it doesn't really sway my feelings. I will visit him and he will do something tiny that only I can pick up, and it will literally rekindle my love for him. It's hard to explain why this happens. I think it's me getting my hopes up over nothing, but it happens in such a way that it feels intentional.

An example I like to bring up is my trip to Disneyland in 2018. It was my first time "meeting" him in-person (to a degree; I had been to the park prior to then but I have virtually no memory of him specifically, and I was a kid. He is an ageless object but to keep things from being messy, I don't count those visits as me meeting him, especially since I wasn't even aware I was trans at age 10 lmfao). I was so excited to finally see and fully appreciate him. I don't have any distinct memories of him reacting to me in any way, until I visited him later that same day, alone from my travel party. They wanted to do something else so I opted to ride small world again and visit my boy to see his night time lighting package for the first time.

The thing that happened though was the ride started to break down, specifically, the propulsion jets were malfunctioning or something, because the ride started to drag out. Eventually I exited the show building and got stuck just before the unload dock. Within Clockboy's theoretical line of sight. For like, 15 minutes. Like this was literally my view:

I think about this so much. It felt so deliberate, even though I KNOW there was no way the big funny clock could control whether the ride works or breaks down... And yet. This has been a recurring theme for years now.

Any time a large enough gap in me visiting him occurs (usually over a month), the ride lags or breaks down. If I'm going to LEAVE for a while, the ride lags or breaks down. If he (somehow!) knows I have time to wait for the ride to open after a breakdown, it'll stay down until the last possible second and then reopen so I can get a ride in before I have to go home.

Like it happens just frequently enough that it just. Makes me wonder sometimes. Like too often to be a coincidence, but infrequently enough that it's not a like, typical ride malfunction pattern.

And again, I'm sure it's just a coincidence, and going to the park as often as I do, I'm sure some weird little things like that will happen but again, I just wonder if it's him somehow causing it. There have been other, smaller instances of him doing things, but I won't be going into those. One of them is too personal to explain, anyway.

Like. I know I technically get nothing out of this one-sided relationship other than dopamine when I see him. But it doesn't stop me from loving him with my entire heart, and I can't imagine loving him any less. I don't think it's possible.

I think Bob Iger himself could come up to me and say "Carson, you are delusional. The clock does not have feelings. It cannot love you back," and I would be unphased. I've had random people tell me that, and I've even told MYSELF that... And nothing ever changes.

I know realistically this isn't sustainable, and one day, I will no longer have these intense feelings for him. I hope everyday that this comes organically, and that we somehow "drift apart" over time, and that he isn't taken away from me due to a ride closure or disaster. But these thoughts genuinely scare me.

I try to let myself live in the moment, because why should I deny myself the opportunity to feel something so wonderful, toward something I think truly deserves all of the love in the world? If there's a nonzero chance Clockboy can feel anything, I hope he can feel that he is loved. And I hope that HE can love, too... Since he wouldn't be able to show his love to me the same way another human could, I hope the little instances of him making me linger near him are his way of trying to show me that I am loved by him.

He has done so much for me and I do truly think he is the most beautiful thing in the world. I legitimately cannot imagine my life without him at this point. Through all the joys of loving him, and the pains of not being able to be intimate with him. The warmness I feel when visiting him, and the fears of losing him. All the things I can and cannot control...

But one thing is certain: I will love him, to some degree, until the day I die. 🤍💛

*leaves this here* hi everyone, thanks for letting me be vulnerable

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[forwhump]

Isolation

a/n; idek what to say sorry I keep posting :(( love you tho :*<3

tw/cw: grievous bodily harm, skinning, meat hooks, graphic mentions of noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, forced imprisonment

living weapon whumpee, baseless torture, inhumane cruelty

When the fluorescent lights finally flicker to life above his head, Silas has been kneeling in the dark for three days.

His arms are splayed, shackled to the walls on either side of him, pulled so tightly that any strain at all would dislocate both his shoulders. Both his knees had been broken, and bone has bitten clean through the flesh above his amputated calf. His chest, his back, his sides, just beneath his ribcage, his armpits, some of his most sensitive meat has been gored with crude meat hooks and restraints that have been woven through his flesh. He pulls at them every time he inhales and sometimes, in the silence, the way his skin rips is an audible sound.

He’s bled and it’s dried and he’s bled and it’s dried and his skin is crusted over with layers of it.

After two days, the lights finally flicker to life. Outside, there’s the technical chirp of a keycard being swiped and a thumbprint being accepted. The door grinds open.

As he saunters into the cell, Point pulls his mask down to his throat to grin widely at Silas.

Silas scowls at him as best he can, but he’s been gagged. They didn’t trust him not to bite. They were right not to.

“How’s it going, big guy?” He grins.

People have been calling Silas big guy since he’d woken up in this place but he’d always liked it the least from Point. It’s always felt the most demeaning.

He narrows his eyes.

Point grins a little wider. He walks slowly, casually, as he crosses the room, coming to sit on the floor a few feet from Silas. Close enough to be smug, but still outside reaching distance. Bastard.

“You got yourself into pretty big shit this time, hey?” He asks.

Silas wants to kill Point more than he wants to kill any of them. He’ll make it especially slow — he’ll draw it out over days. He’ll wait until Point is begging to be put out of his misery, and he won’t. He’ll only put him down once he’s bored of his blood.

Clicking his tongue, Point shakes his head at him, mock disappointed. “What did you think was going to happen?” He asks. “I knew you were stupid, but I thought you were smarter than this. If you behave like an animal, you’re going to get treated like one.”

Trying, Silas pulls at one of his hands and pain ripples through his shoulder and all the way down his side. The metal pierced through his meat pulls at him sharply and blood bubbles up and over the opened lip in his flesh.

It trickles down his side, hot against his cool, crusted skin.

“You were a very bad dog, Silas.”

Behind his gag, Silas sneers. The way he craves Point’s blood is frantic.

Point smirks. “We haven’t decided yet if it’ll ever be safe to let you return to the unit,” he tells him, “but there’s a chance we’ll take the risk. The girl,” and he smirks a little wider, “has been deemed a liability. She has been a distraction to you and that makes danger for us, so she will not be there once you are allowed back. She has been removed. I thought you’d like to know.”

Silas doesn’t realize he’s pulling at his restraints again until the flesh at his back tears open wider and he doesn’t feel so much that he’s bleeding as much as his back almost instantly feels wet.

“I’ve told you before, Silas,” Point says, gleeful, “we usually put down dogs once they start to bite. You’re lucky you’re so…valuable.”

Silas pulls his lip back from his teeth as best he can.

Point grins at him. “And you’re lucky,” he says, “that we have such a soft spot for that girl. She’s caused the deaths of many of our men. Inciting violence in a place like this is almost always grounds for execution. But we couldn’t, in our right minds, let such a tight, pretty thing go to waste. Rest assured, big guy,” he says, and leans a little closer as he grins a little wider. “She’s in good hands.”

Silas lurches closer, leans all his weight into his arms, tries to wrench his shackles clean out of the walls. He can’t do it, and he bellows behind the gag as he tears free of the meat hooks at his back and strips of his skin hang down around his waistband in ribbons of gore and tissue.

“You’re a very possessive dog, aren’t you?” Point asks him, clucking his tongue again. “But not a very good guard dog at all. Look at you. You tried, and look what it got you.”

Silas sneers.

Point reaches out to pat his cheek, but he pulls his hand back quickly when Silas turns his head. He can’t bite around the gag, but he tries, anyway.

“Sad for the girl,” Point tells him, “isn’t it? It’s not her fault you’re unwell.”

Silas pulls at his restraints and nothing gives but his flesh.

“But I gotta be honest with you,” he goes on, “this was always my desired outcome. The rest of the faction, too. The girl was never supposed to be here, and she was going to waste in that unit. Her place has always been in the barracks, getting used as fuckmeat.”

Heat explodes in Silas’ chest and he tries to lunge at Point without even really thinking about it. He rips a big chunk of meat out of his armpit, and blood and gore splatter the concrete at his side. He bellows behind his gag.

Point laughs mirthfully. “Down, boy,” he taunts. “You can shred as much of yourself as you’d like. There’s no saving her. We like her too much.”

Silas glares.

Point looks just delighted. “She’s just such a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” He asks, softer, leaning in closer.

Silas sinks his teeth into the gag and bites down so hard his jaw aches in protest.

“And she’s so soft,” he says with a coo, “and she’s so tight, and she’s always so wet. And she makes the prettiest little noises.”

Silas snarls behind the gag, and he sounds like an animal.

“And she cries,” Point croons at him, “and she begs us to stop. I think she’s always prettiest when she’s begging me to stop.”

Silas pours all of his strength and adrenaline into his arms and does everything he can to rip those shackles out of the wall.

He riffs at the meat hooks beneath his ribcage, and peels all of the skin away from his left side.

It’s the coldest he’s ever been and it hurts so deeply that Silas couldn’t describe the pain if he knew the words.

He cries out behind the gag, and Point grins.

He claps his hands against his thighs as he stands.

He grins again as he swings his boot into the side of Silas’ face and knocks out his back two molars.

Blood fills Silas’ mouth but he’s gagged and it tries its best to choke him, pooling in his airways. He gurgles. When Point finally peels away the gag he sprays blood like a broken faucet.

“You should’ve been a good dog,” Point tells him, and he cracks his fist into Silas’ eye socket.

It cracks, and lightning strikes through Silas’ skull.

He tips his chin back quickly and sprays blood into Point’s face. Point recoils, and Silas spits, “fuck you.”

“Fuck you, big guy,” Point scoffs, wiping blood from his eyes. “Nobody likes a dog that bites.”

“Keep. Your. Fuckin’. Hands. Off of him,” Silas seethes.

It only makes Point grin again. “Off of her?” He repeats. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with the parts of me that’ll be inside her.”

Silas tries again to lunge and rips out the back of his neck with a meat hook.

The pain ripples all the way down his spine and Silas roars.

Point chuckles, fishing a rag from his pocket to wipe down his hands as he starts to saunter again back towards the door. Next to it is a panel, a keypad, and he punches in a quick code, nine digits. He swipes his keycard. He presses his thumbprint.

He looks at Silas again over his shoulder before he leaves, and he winks.

The door closes behind him, and silence lapses throughout his cell again. The lights flicker off, and Silas is alone, bleeding in the dark. Helpless and useless.

He tips his head back towards the ceiling and roars himself hoarse.

[lovinglin]

About Jayce

These drawings have been sitting in my gallery for so long now, and I was mostly waiting for a good time to post them + draw more context

But after a while- I started feeling not too proud when looking at them, and I don't exactly have the time to draw up more stuff so... here we go! Out onto the blog they go HEJAHDJSH

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. ���I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[milo-is-rambling]

My manager asked me if I was religious and I had a weird little babble about how the concept of god doesn’t make since in my brain and in a way holiness is all around us constantly whether u believe it a god (like just by existing we as a planet are already a miracle) or not so why waste any of your life dedicating yourself to living a future life when you’re only guaranteed this life except that thought was maybe half as coherent as that and god more rambley and awkward as she stared at me

[sincerlyus]

Reverse Falls!!

Soo this is my take on Reverse Falls!! I don't really know which are the original designs or which are the new personalities that each character adapts, so I made my own headcanons!! :3

It should be noted that there are characters who do not change personalities with anyone, but rather their personalities are more exaggerated or are opposite to the originals. Or (in the case of McGucket) their relationships are different so they change their way of being progressively.

EXPLANATION TIME:

This is quite long, I'm going to explain the personalities of each one and how they relate to various characters. Credits to: hours of daydreaming and Google Translate  (TW: child abuse, emotional and physical abuse, homophobia, classism. I don't know if there's anything else, just in case)

Pacifica Northwest: Outgoing and very expressive. She didn't know Gideon very well until her parents sent her to Reverse Falls. She likes to knit, draw, and has a lot of stuffed animals. She has a lot of hair, and likes to do different hairstyles every day ("to be innovative"), cries when she has to cut it. She is very affectionate with Gideon and tries to get him out of his shell. She is a little insecure, but likes to see the positive side of things. She gets along very well with Bud, although sometimes she feels he is a little weird. Symbol: Llama (on her sweater)

Gideon Gleefull: Insecure, has little self-confidence, very skittish and anxious. Has a habit of chewing when he is thinking, like OG!Dipper (chewing on pens, his shirt, etc.). He didn't really know how to talk to Paz at first since the first time they met they were very little, what was she going to say?, was a "Hello" enough?, a handshake?, a complicated handshake?, was she going to ignore him? Paz simply gave him a big hug when she got off the bus (+ gave him a sweater she made on the way). Symbol: Telepathy star (in his hat)

Bud Gleefull: Ultimate scammer. Very friendly and funny, although sometimes a little intimidating. Bye Hawaiian shirts. Very patient with Gideon. He is basically the “cool uncle/dad”. He put Paz to work the day she arrived, although he became attached very quickly and gave her family privileges (he does the same with Gideon).

Mason “Dipper” Pines: He is still very insecure but is able to feign confidence when standing on stage with his sister. He still has a lot of passion for science, he is not very affectionate, he holds back his emotions as he does not want to look vulnerable, especially in front of Stanford. He has a lot of respect for Ford (or rather, fear), being his apprentice he sees him more as a teacher, a superior figure than as an uncle; however he has very little respect for Stan, threatening him and making fun of him. He does not usually use his amulet much, only to practice tricks or in his shows. He has a very distant relationship with his sister, similar to that of the Stan twins. They have many disagreements, but they still have each other's back, especially when Ford is aggressive with one of them. The most sincere relationship he has is with F, although he still treats him like an employee, knowing that he was one of the brilliant minds behind the portal he respects him. Sometimes he discusses theories and shares discoveries with him (although he is embarrassed to think that his only "friend" is an employee of his uncle). Once he met Gideon and Paz, he was able to show his more fragile side and be himself, although he doesn't consider them completely friends (that changes post-weirdmageddon). Symbol: Pine tree (a small pin)

Mabel Pines: A spoiled brat, basically. She's very charming and friendly on stage and with guests at the Pines' many parties, but she's very whiny and selfish behind the scenes. She's not at all affectionate, to the point that she hates physical contact, especially if it's from townspeople. She resents her brother a lot for being Ford's "favorite" (he doesn't really have favorites, he's just less strict with Dipper because he's useful to him). She's Stan's spoiled child, giving her what she wants when she wants it (they have a nice relationship actually, Stan being one of the only ones who comforts her when she's sad). Instead of knitting, she likes to design her own dresses and accessories for shows and parties (her guilty pleasure is arts & crafts, since it's a very "childish" activity for a Pines). Obsessed with Paz, but learns to respect her limits throughout the story. Symbol: Shooting Star (a small pin)

Stanley Pines: He basically swaps personalities with Bud, runs the Telepathy Tent, is very friendly, and is scared of his brother and the twins. He never gets involved in Ford's experiments, having a very tense relationship with him. He loves the twins very much but knowing the power they have with those amulets he prefers to go along with them and not question too much what they ask (he knows when to be firm but the one who really has an impact on them and can make them see reason is Ford). Symbol: Oyster(?? (on a necklace)

Stanford F. Pines: Did you think OG! Ford was a jerk? Well now he's twice as much! He doesn't have an ounce of empathy in him, he's very narcissistic and only cares about his projects and his image. He doesn't care at all about the twins, only seeing them as a way to make money, demanding the most out of them, and he doesn't hesitate to use violence if any of them get out of line. He's very distant with Stanley, speaking to him very dryly (or rather, barely speaking to him at all). He's almost a hermit, living in his laboratory, not letting the townspeople get to know him; although unlike OG! Ford, he cares a lot about how he presents himself in front of the public, taking care of his image and clothing. He's very demanding with Mabel, as he feels she's nothing more than a spoiled child, the image of the Telepathy Tent along with her brother. He is a bit kinder to Dipper, as he realizes that he has a brilliant mind for his age (though not more so than his own), so he includes him in many of his experiments and research if he proves useful; but excluding that, he is just as insensitive as he is with his twin, mistreating him if he does not comply with what is due. His relationship with McGucket is kinda weird: although they were friends in college, the power that Bill/Will offered him completely consumed him, being abusive to F, forcing him to work long nights, keeping him awake by force. He only sees him for his use: his great skill with mechanics (which Ford does not have, although he hates to mention it). Although he was in love with F while he was at Backupsmore, he currently has no romantic feelings towards him, considering him an employee, his assistant, nothing more. He has internalized homophobia (a gift from Filbrick) and classism, so he hates to remember when his relationship with F was one of equals, friends. It disgusts him to think about when he would get so emotional around him. Symbol: Six Fingered Hand (the diaries)

Fiddleford H. McGucket: He is still the brilliant mind he was in his youth, but stress eats him alive. He started to age very quickly thanks to it. He invented the memory gun to try to forget all the horrible things he witnessed or that Ford made him suffer, but his boss doesn't allow him to use it too much since it can damage his mental health and erase knowledge, making him less efficient and useful. He doesn't have a very deep relationship with Stanley, since he practically lives in the lab where Ford forces him to work, but they are able to talk whenever F has a break (almost never). He can't stand the twins too much, not only because he feels that they are very annoying, but because the simple presence of children in his day to day life reminds him a lot of Tate, with whom he no longer has contact. Everyone knows about the abusive relationship he has with Stanford, they are not indifferent to it but they try not to mention it or get involved in his affairs (practically out of fear of Ford).  Throughout his stay with Stanford he started developing an emotional dependence on him: not only did he make him feel that he was useless without him, but he uses violence on him when he is not fulfilling his duty, causing F to blame himself when this happens (What did he do wrong? What can he do to improve?). This got to the point where he started to hurt himself when he did not do something right. Ex: hitting himself when he noticed that his leg was bouncing in front of his anxiety (something that bothers Ford a lot), pulling out clumps of hair in front of the stress of not being able to achieve something, biting his nails, scratching himself, hitting his head (imagine Dobby from HP). Such actions and the mixed feelings he had towards Ford, made him develop masochism, enjoying when he inflicts pain on himself and when he is the victim of Ford's physical and psychological abuse, he clearly hid this for a while since it would look very unprofessional on his part.  Eventually his boss found out and used this to his advantage, being quite sadist himself (he enjoys watching or inflicting pain and/or humiliation on others, in this case, he gets sexual pleasure). So every time Ford needs to let off some steam, vent his frustrations (or is just horny), he uses Fiddleford to fulfill his fantasies, making F's wishes come true as well. He basically uses him as a sex toy, and F doesn't complain, having suffered so much emotional manipulation, he even considers himself lucky that his boss wants to be with him like this, even if it's NOT healthy. Symbol: Spectacles

Bill Cipher: I don't like the idea of ​​changing his name, so Bill stays. He's still the same chaotic demon as in the original series, but this time he's been tricked by Ford into working for him and doing his bidding. He's also forced to do the twins' bidding. We already know that Bill can change his shape and color, so I think all of his shame and self-pity manifests itself in his appearance, turning blue over time (any strong emotion makes him change his appearance). He manipulates Gideon and Paz, making them feel sorry for him so they'll do his bidding (it doesn't work, clearly). The people he has the most contact with are Ford and Fiddleford, as they spend most of their time in the basement where he's locked up.

So that's it. I don't really know how this timeline would work, considering the portal and the journals, but I just wanted to have fun with the character designs and relationships (I feel like the weirdmageddon would happen sooner than in the original timeline). If you want me to go deeper into certain relationships or characters, let me know!!(≧▽≦) I'll see if I can go deeper into the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford that you guys liked so much (you guys really like toxic yaoi, huh??). I'm thinking of making a fanfic or smt to explain their day to day life in the lab and how Ford invited F to work with him (SPOILER: it didn't go well...).

That's it ig, LIKE AND SUSCRIBE!!!1!!1!Σ(°ロ°)

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cradle Song.

Spencer Reid x Pregnant!reader

Summary: The situation is complicated when Spencer is trapped in a lab with anthrax and worried about communicating with you and his future child one last time.

Words: 2,4k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of death, therapy. spoilers for s4 e24 ("amplification"). anthrax. established relationship. angst with a open ending. implication that the baby is a girl. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I wrote this after posting my first two one shots here (several months ago), and now I just found the uncorrected text and decided to improve it for posting lol for you to mentally decide if it's a happy or sad ending, because I could never write one that I really liked.

Your phone rang somewhere in the room, but you had no idea where. In the distance, you could hear the classical symphony by Johannes Brahms that your boyfriend had chosen especially for you, with the excuse that it would calm you and the baby every time it played.

Unfortunately, this time it wasn't helping to calm you down.

After tossing and turning around the room several times, you sat up in bed, completely exhausted and hopeless. That's when you felt the noise nearby and realized that the phone under your pillow was vibrating nonstop. You were about to snort with stress from being so distracted lately, but an automatic smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was a call from Spencer. You hadn't heard from him in several hours, the last being his usual call to wish you a good morning every time he was away on a case.

“I think I'd lose my head if I didn't have it attached to my neck.” Was the first thing you said as you tried to tuck your pillow behind your neck to make yourself more comfortable.

“You've lost your phone again.” You heard him let out a small, weak laugh, followed by a cough that caught your attention and made you frown. “Sorry, I got stuck.” He quickly excused himself.

“Are you okay?”

In response to your question, he looked around the lab where he was confined, focusing on the broken vial of anthrax on the floor that had caused all his problems so far. Reid didn't know how to explain that an ordinary case had turned into a national problem that was taking over his life and future moments with you with every passing second.

And he certainly knew even less how to tell you that this would probably be the last time you would hear from him if the team didn't find a cure soon.

“I'm fine.” He lied immediately, feeling his breathing getting harder and harder. “Really, love.” He tried to reassure you, but he lost his balance and leaned heavily on the counter, his free hand gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

All you had to do was hear him call you that and your whole world would light up, you could even feel the baby in your belly kicking at the sound of his voice. You smiled as you realized that you were both happy to hear from Spencer after not seeing him for most of the day due to the demands of his job.

Although you've never said it out loud for fear of making him feel guilty, you miss him excessively, and you're always trying to multitask and be productive, so you don't think as much about how much you need him by your side. Especially when dinner time comes and his seat next to you is empty, or when night comes and his side of the bed is cold.

Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but you seemed to have a stronger need for him than ever.

“And how did you feel today? How are my girls? Did she kick a lot today?” The usual questions he asked you every time he was on a long case began to appear. “I need to hear everything.”

“She just kicks a lot when she listens to you and you know it.” You replied, stroking your belly out of laziness. “She’s definitely a daddy's little princess.”

The lump in his throat and all of his fears became more intense and uncontrollable. The tears he had tried to keep from escaping to stay strong and focused began to flow unchecked down his cheeks. Hearing you talk like that, knowing it might be the last time, was killing him much faster than the anthrax itself.

“And what are you doing? All your agent stuff?” You spoke again at his silence, trying to ignore the bad feeling something was giving you. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I don't think that's possible, love.” He replied quickly, his voice hoarse and raspy, the lie slipping from his lips almost too easily. “I'm doing some paperwork, it'll take some time.”

It was the second time he had called you by that nickname in just a few minutes. Something seemed a little off, as he only used it when he wanted to calm you down. You knew him too well to miss it.

“Oh, okay.” You said it in a way that showed you were a little disappointed.

Spencer was about to try to comfort you when he suddenly felt the cough return to his throat and he put a hand over his mouth to stop it. It was no use, the cough shook his whole body, spinning him around and making him pant in between. He tried to cover the phone with his hand so that the sounds coming out of his mouth would not be heard, but it was useless. The hacking cough seemed to tear at his lungs, leaving him breathless, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he could only hope you didn't hear it, because the last thing he wanted to do was worry you. He knew it would hurt you and the baby.

“Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some water. It sounds pretty bad.”

He tried to answer you right away, but the cough took over and prevented him from speaking. He gripped the phone tightly, struggling to breathe, trying to force his lungs to stop spasming. And when he finally stopped coughing, he managed to speak, his voice cracking and rather hoarse.

“Yes, I'm fine. It's probably just a cold.” He lied again, breathing shakily. “But it’s nothing so bad.”

“Take care of yourself, don't let it get worse.”

If only you knew that there was no way to make it worse, that it was already at its worst point and unlikely to improve.

“I will, don't worry.” He tries to sound convincing, but his voice comes out rough and raw, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coughing again. “Just focus on you and the baby, okay? I'll be fine.”

He spoke again so quickly that it was difficult to think of an appropriate response.

“Could you do something for me, love?”

“Of course, I'll do whatever you need.” You reply, feeling a little perplexed by the urgency in his voice.

There was a long, awkward silence after you answered, and you could feel your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You had a feeling that Spencer was holding something back from you, and the thought of what it could be made your left leg start to twitch nervously. You didn't even bother trying to make yourself more comfortable in bed.

“Go to my part of the closet, to the top drawer. Open it and take out a box next to the socks.” Finally he spoke and began to give you instructions, which you followed as best you could. “Let me know when you have it, carefully. Don't rush or-”

“I've already got it.” You interjected.

“That was quick.” You heard the surprise in his voice as you looked at the box, curious to know what was inside, after having seen it several times and thinking it was just more socks.

You smiled before speaking again. “What should I do with this, love?”

The mere word coming out of your mouth made him tremble.

Love. Love. Love.

He was your love and you were his. He refused to accept that this would be completely shattered in a matter of minutes if he could not find a way to keep his eyes open and his heart still pumping blood.

“I need you to open it, but be careful. Take your time and don't rush. Don't make any sudden movements.” He said, trying to relax so that when he spoke again his voice would be calmer, softer. “And once you open it, I want you to imagine that I'm there with you, okay?”

You couldn't help but open the box quickly, even though you were careful. You were surprised to find a bunch of envelopes and papers inside. You left them on the bed, wondering what they were about. It had been five months since you knew you were pregnant, and all the envelopes and papers were the same age according to the dates in the top corner.

“Have you seen it yet?” Spencer asked.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand, could you explain what this is?” You asked, carefully running your hand through the neatly organized papers on the bed.

“Could you close your eyes and imagine I'm with you, like I told you before?” He asked, trying to keep a neutral tone as you complied with his request.

He needed you to see him there with you, he needed to say goodbye and at least touch you one last time.

“That's what I'm doing. I'm holding your hand right now.” You said with a small smile, feeling the warmth.

It was like feeling an automatic medicine with your name on it flow through his system and relieve a few aches and pains. His hands stopped shaking automatically as he imagined himself holding yours again.

“Okay…they are notes and letters.” His voice was soft, the intensity of his heartbeat gradually increasing as he remembered each time he wrote those words to you. “I started writing them when we found out you were pregnant. They're for our baby.”

He still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a baby, his baby. He recalled how he felt his whole world stop and turn a different color, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and his breath hitching in his chest as he held your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly, overwhelmed with joy and so in love that he hadn't known what to do with his own feelings.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I...I found myself writing frequently and my therapist said it was fine…I was inspired to write about my feelings for you and our baby."

From the moment he revealed to you that he had resumed therapy with the goal of healing the wounds of childhood and becoming the father he never had, it was clear that his dedication surpassed any commitment. Now you just added to the list of reasons why he was already an exemplary father, one that any child would be lucky to have.

“Spencer, this is so sweet.” You said, completely moved and on the verge of tears, as you noticed all the dedication I had put into each and every piece of paper. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”

He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him at that moment. It was so hard to explain, to tell you that every thought and every dream he'd ever had included you and the baby now growing in your belly, and his great fear of not being able to be there for you someday.

“I-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to know now how much you mean to me and how blessed I am that you gave this to me. I've spent the last few months trying to even talk to some kind of God, and I don't even know if exist...” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, the words lost somewhere in his throat, making it burn and hurt. “I just...I need the baby to know what you and her mean to me, how I see you, how I feel when I wake up next to you. What I want, what I dream for her, what...”

I want to marry you.

The thought almost escaped his lips, his aching heart pounding hard against his aching chest. He felt as if a pair of strong hands were strangling him.

“I don't understand...Tell me what's going on.” You interrupted him with a shaking voice, knowing that there was definitely something more to all of this.

Oh, how you know him and his big, messy, troubled brain.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, though you couldn't see it, knowing that you already read him like an open book.

“Nothing...Nothing's wrong, love, just...” He tried to breathe deeply through the phone, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing too fast. “I love you so much. Don't forget that, okay?”

“Spencer—”

He always loved your voice calling his name, and now, in his weak, tired, fearful state, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.

“I want you to know that you'll be okay, that she'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and that I love you. I love you both very much. Please, please...” He kept going. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. His mind was racing, and his words came out like a confession.

He was an expert profiler, a genius with an eidetic memory and a sharp mind, but at that moment, with his body weakened and his head spinning, he found himself unable to contain himself. He was exposed, open, and experiencing discomfort. All of the things he wanted to tell you, all of the questions he wanted to ask, and all of the concerns, worries, and thoughts in his mind came pouring out, like a dam breaking. He sensed that you could feel it through the line, and he realized that he could no longer deny it any longer.

“I love you. I have to go now.”

“Wait.”

You had a feeling something wasn't quite right, and those letters seemed to confirm your suspicions. They were a precautionary measure, a way of ensuring that everything would be taken care of in case something happened to him.

“I have to go, I'm...I'm busy, love.” He tried to sound convincing, and he knew he was failing miserably, but if he stayed a moment longer, he would continue to talk and confess more. “I love you both.”

“We love you too.”

If he wasn't already weak and trembling, hearing your voice telling him that you loved him, in that soft tone, would have made him fall to the floor again. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall, his own trembling hand going to cover his mouth so he wouldn't say more, because he would tell you everything if you kept talking in that sweet tone.

He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

So it was that he thought of you and your kind way of loving him before he felt his head hit the floor and his eyes close.

[ro-is-struggling]

Breakfast In Bed || Clark Kent x Reader

Based on THIS and THIS requests

Summary: Being married to a superhero was bound to have some tough times, you knew that well when you accepted Clark's marriage proposal. However, the last few months were becoming too difficult for you as he was having trouble balancing his daily life and his responsibilities as Superman. Intentional or not, he was neglecting you and you were getting tired of waking up alone every morning. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Clark surprises you with breakfast in bed and a talk that reminds you why you love him so much.

Warnings: a little angst, but mostly fluff, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 1800

Notes: I don’t know why but I always have the need to write Clark like the most romantic and adorable man in the world, so enjoy! Consider this as my valentine gift to you

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

You knew your relationship with Clark would be complicated from the moment you learned about his special abilities. You always knew he was far from ordinary, you just thought his greatness had more mundane roots —his kindness, his empathy, the way he cared about everyone and how he always surprised you by remembering even the smallest details, all the normal things that made you fall in love with him. You'd be lying if you said you weren't surprised to learn the truth, but it also explained a lot —the way he sometimes seemed to be able to be on two sides at the same time, his incredible strength and great sense of hearing. It made you worry about the kinds of dangers he faced every day as Superman, but it also made you love him even more. So you decided that you would stay by his side knowing full well that your relationship would be far from normal. 

Through it all, you managed to make things work. Clark was very good at keeping his identity secret to protect you. And you were great at pretending that his long absences didn't bother you, making him feel better when he was late for your anniversary dinner after a year of marriage. To be honest, it wasn't always that terrible. You did have plenty of moments of blissful intimacy, away from the outside world and the dangers it presented. And it was wonderful. You loved spending quality time with your husband, even if it was just sitting in silence working to meet some deadline for work. Just knowing he was there with you was enough to make you feel happy, loved.

The problem you had now was that he was spending less and less time at home. He came home late every night, exhausted after a long day at work —both as Clark at the Daily Planet and as Superman helping people in danger. And in the mornings you were lucky if you got to have breakfast together. He always tried to make time for you, to spend a romantic evening at a nice restaurant or curl up on the couch to watch a movie, but somehow work always got in the way. If it wasn't Perry calling him to cover an urgent story for the paper, it was a person in danger crying out for Superman. 

It was frustrating because you felt you couldn't say no. Clark would always ask your opinion before doing anything, looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes while assuring you that if you said no, he would stay where he was. But how could you say no when a child in danger cried for their hero or a tragic accident required his presence? There was no way your conscience would let you live with that decision.

You knew his work was important. Both inside and outside the newspaper, he helped people. People in vulnerable situations, people in danger, people who needed to be heard. It was truly noble of him and you admired him for his determination to make the world a better place. That was the biggest reason why you didn't say anything, but the truth was that you missed him.

You missed coming home from work and finding him waiting for you, asking you how your day had been the moment you walked through the front door. You missed going to sleep next to him at night after spending hours sharing work stories over dinner. You missed the warmth of his body wrapping around you in the cold mornings and hearing his voice raspy with sleep wishing you good morning when he still had his eyes closed. In the last few weeks you were lucky if he made it to dinner. Going to sleep alone and waking up alone in the mornings had become your routine. And you hated it.

That morning was no exception. When you opened your eyes you found the left side of the bed empty. Your arms clung tighter to Clark's pillow, inhaling his scent to make you feel less lonely. It was supposed to be his day off, but you wouldn't be surprised if Perry had called him last minute or some catastrophe had gotten him out of bed early. You had barely seen him last night. Clark had arrived late when you were already asleep and you only managed to mumble his name in the dark and hug him when he lay down next to you, and now he wasn't next to you when you woke up either. The day had barely begun and you already wanted it to end.

Letting out a long sigh, you decided it would be best to get up and do something to distract your mind. Clark wasn't there and it wasn't going to do your mental health any good to stay in bed crying all morning. So you dragged your feet lazily to the bathroom, going about your morning routine before leaving the room to prepare breakfast.

Only the moment you opened the door you were assaulted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You frowned in confusion, wondering if perhaps you had mistakenly left the coffee maker running all night. However, when you entered the kitchen you discovered that it was no mistake. Standing in front of the stove was Clark, flipping pancakes and cutting up some fruit while humming to himself. 

You couldn't help but smile as you watched him move. He still had his pajama pants on and his hair was a mess. You took advantage of the fact that his back was turned to you to admire him silently as a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through you. The sadness disappeared from your system as you watched him carefully stack the pancakes, taking his time to decorate them with little pieces of fruit just the way you liked. He looked adorable, bent over the counter as he arranged breakfast on a tray, ready to be taken to bed. You wanted to run over and hug him, but before you could move from the doorway Clark turned, finally sensing your presence.

"What are you doing there? You're supposed to be sleeping." he said and you could swear he sounded disappointed to see you there. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

You walked into the kitchen. Just a couple of steps and you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso and resting your head on his chest as you hugged him. Clark reciprocated right away, planting a kiss on the top of your head as he breathed in the scent of your hair. 

"I'm sorry," you pouted, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. "We can go back to bed if you want."

Clark answered you with a kiss, his lips caressing yours gently. It was a quick kiss, but it still managed to take your breath away. 

"What's the occasion?" You asked as you broke away, stealing a strawberry from the pancakes and popping it into your mouth. It wasn't your anniversary or your birthday and it wasn't Valentine's Day, so you wondered what had prompted Clark to make such a gesture to you. 

"I wanted to apologize... I know I haven't been around much and I know it's not easy for you, even though you are too nice to tell me."

"Clark..." You wanted to intervene, but he silenced you by resting his index finger on your lips.

"I need you to know that you're important to me, more important than anything else." Clark slid his hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin gently. He gave you a warm smile, losing himself for a moment in the bright light of your eyes. "Do you remember what I told you the day I asked you to marry me? I said with these powers I could see the beauty of the universe, the flowers blooming on the other side of the planet or dying stars exploding in brilliant light thousands of miles away, and yet, the day I meet you I knew I had to be with you because for the first time in my life the only thing in the universe worth looking at was right there in front of me. That is still true. It will always be true, angel."

"Damn it, smallville!" You let out a giggle, feeling the tears building up in your eyes as you remembered that day —one of the happiest days of your life. You hated the way he always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, it made being mad at him really hard.

Clark smiled at you, his blue eyes shining with love in them as he gently wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down your cheek. "You're the most important thing in my life and I'm sorry I haven't been showing it these past months. I promise you I'll be better in the future. I'll try harder to make this work, to make us work."

"I know this is hard for you too, baby." You said, letting your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest. You knew Clark wasn't neglecting you on purpose. You knew it hurt him as much as it hurt you to be away or to miss a date you had been planning for a long time. Balancing his normal life and his superhero life had always been one of his biggest challenges. 

"I know you love me and I know you care about me, you don't have to doubt that. I knew things were going to be difficult sometimes the day I said yes. I understand how important being Superman is to you, it is who you are and I love you for that too. I just... miss you sometimes, but I'm sure we're going to find a way to work this out. We always do."

"I swear if I could love you more I would explode." Clark smiled at you before taking your face in his hands again and pressing his lips together. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, feeling that familiar warmth fill you inside. It was the comforting warmth of love, of the happiness it gave you to be in Clark's arms after so much loneliness.

That was the Clark you missed so much. The loving husband who wrapped his arms around you and kissed you until his lips were tired. The one who showered you with compliments until you were flustered. The one who didn't hesitate to show you how much he loved you with sweet words or cute details. It had been so long since you had the chance to be alone like that, sharing such an intimate moment, that you almost forgot how good it felt when Clark kissed you or how safe you felt when he put his arms around you. It was a beautiful feeling that you could only describe as the touch of true love. You never wanted to forget it, you were willing to do anything not to lose it.

"I love you too." You murmured against Clark's lips, giving him a quick peck before pulling away from him. "Now, about that breakfast..."

Clark let out a chuckle. "Go back to bed, I'll be there in a second."

[finnbbl]

Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?

It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)

3Racha when you’re nonverbal

3Racha Written

Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.

A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏

Requests - OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.

3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.

You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.

You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.

However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.

The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.

The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.

However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.

“Are you alright, jagiya?”

It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.

Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”

No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.

Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.

With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.

You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”

Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.

“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy… from you know.”

You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”

Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.

[ressjeon]

pretty doll | kim line (m.)

genre/au: smut, slight bdsm? (i have no idea what AU this is but you’ll see)

summary: when Namjoon left, he said to stay put and you obeyed as usual but why did he leave you with his roommates when they were this hot?

wc & rating: 5.6k | 18+

warnings/content: explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, oral (both receiving), fingering, deep throating, face fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration (spitroasting, we're back lmao), exhibitionism (public sex 🗿), praise kink, reverse cowgirl, edging, cum play, degradation, size kink, groping, pet names, etc.

a/n: happy taejincember y'all it's been a long ass time! anyways, this was my dream years ago so it's initially written in 2021 and i'm finally posting it lmao. thank you to the amazing Danica ( @dee-ehn ) for this very very gorgeous banner & divider 💞

It’s hard to explain the relationship between you and Namjoon.

But you never bother explaining when people around you ask because you’re not the type to put labels anyway, and so is he. This simply is an arrangement and you’re not together by any means so you’re both free to do whatever you want, with whoever you want.

There are only two rules that you both have been following for a while now though. One is simple; no kissing on the lips with other people but the other one’s a bit complicated. Enough that it took a while before you got used to this dynamic between you and Namjoon, causing small arguments here and there around the beginning. However, he has always been patient and handled you with care, showing it to you in his own ways that you learned to tune in with it in time.

Like right now.

.

“ahh..Namjoon” you whine for the nth time to no avail. He's been eating you out since the moment you arrived here in the park earlier like a starved man as he always does. Well, according to him, your cunt’s the only one he devours, part of the other rule that you both agreed on. 

When his mouth is not on you, his two fingers are, sometimes three, before he stops. He does this when he senses that you're about to cum, chuckling deeply before releasing the swing that you’re sitting on to tease you further. You’ve been squirming nonstop on it due to the cold breeze that’s been hitting your wet core since the first time he fingered you here. 

You do love it but Namjoon’s mercilessly doing this to you...

In some random playground, in broad daylight, in this chilly weather.

Good thing there’s no one in sight but even then, that would’ve been the last thing on your mind with how Namjoon’s torturing your pussy like he’s punishing you. It also doesn’t help that you’re not wearing any panties as that is what he prefers when you're with him. He reasons that it’ll be easier to finger you or eat you out anywhere he likes. 

He does the same. Going commando each time you go out since you’re always needy when he’s near, always wanting to suck him off, always wanting to sit on his cock no matter where the both of you are.

One of his strong arms catches the curve of the swing seat you’re sitting on, stopping it from hitting him when it sways forward. Then he brings back his fingers inside your swollen pussy again, making you shut your eyes, breath hitching with each intrusion. All you can focus on is his long fingers massaging your abused walls at this point, your knuckles turning white while gripping the swing chain so hard because you’re nearing your peak once again.

Your eyes suddenly open when he reaches that soft spot inside you, moaning louder than you’ve already been as soon as you lock your eyes with him. He’s looking at you intently, as usual, never straying his eyes from observing your face while his fingers continue pumping in and out of your pussy. 

Namjoon’s always been handsome but he’s looking more gorgeous to you from where he’s kneeling, not seeming to mind the small wood chips digging into his denim jeans. The strands of his short honey-blond hair above his undercut being blown by the wind, causing your walls to flutter more around his wet fingers whose pace is now turning slow. You squeak when Namjoon continues to retreat his fingers, spreading your pussy lips apart before pushing in, scissoring your pussy again.

And then he removes them abruptly and doesn’t swing you back this time.

“sorry doll, we have to get going. i have some last-minute holiday shopping to do”

You pout at Namjoon’s words, eyes nearly watering at what he said. His tone’s apologetic as he stands up from the ground, holding his hand out for you to take but you’re still reluctant to leave. He retracts and waits for you instead at the wooden edge of the box, face teasing as he wipes his cum-coated fingers against his denim jeans which further added to your distress.

“i didn’t cum yet” you whine in displeasure, looking up at him with big eyes from your seat, hoping that’ll change his mind about staying a bit and letting you finish but he doesn’t falter. 

So you’re back to pouting, the dazed sensation from his edging beginning to leave your body. 

Realizing that he’d never really budge, you stand up and turn around to check if you didn’t leave any mess on the swing seat. Thankfully there’s none, though the embarrassment stays in you despite frequently fooling around with Namjoon in public places like this. You’re trying to pull down your skirt as you’re nearing him, to make sure the wind doesn’t blow it up and expose your bare pussy to any possible passerby. 

He seems to be enjoying seeing you sulk as the grin on his face widens, "later okay? you can stay at my place for a while". 

Namjoon cages you with his big arms and you lean on his chest, nodding in relief at what he said. He never breaks his promises so you have a hunch that he must be planning something for later then. Excitement courses through you at the thought but his edging made you a bit hungry though, your stomach growling a bit which doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

"let's go Joonie, hope you have my favourites there" you smile sheepishly as you look up at him and he chuckles in return, one hand sliding down to your waist to hold you as you both start walking to his place.

The fancy apartment building looms over you both as you arrive at Namjoon's place. He shares it with his two other close friends, Seokjin and Taehyung. They’re gorgeous like him and each time Namjoon brings you here, you couldn’t help but steal glances and ponder their whereabouts when they’re not around. You’re rarely here that’s why and when you are, they're either both absent or the other one's missing.

You’re wondering if they’re here this time though, you haven't seen those two in a while.

.

Namjoon opens the door with his own key, pulling you inside after setting them on the key rack. It’s something his roommates have implemented given the number of times he lost his keys. Their place is not that big for three people but the interior shows each of their tastes that somehow complemented one another. It's because they’ve known each other for years, gradually learning more about each other that you’re sometimes amazed at how synced they are in what they do. 

You instantly shiver at the change of temperature as soon as you enter their unit, the heater’s finally switched on much to Namjoon’s delight. The heat is warming you up but you’re feeling warmer seeing both his roommates sitting by the round kitchen table.

Namjoon nods to them as a greeting while he walks hurriedly towards his room. This leaves you awkwardly standing by the door, contemplating if you should follow him or join his roommates in the kitchen. You’re still not close with Taehyung and Seokjin despite Namjoon bringing you here for a little while now. You talk to them of course but Namjoon subtly demands your attention all the time. Quite a contrast because he never displays affection towards you when other people are around. It’s just him by nature, seeing as you’re not together anyways so you respected that.

Unable to decide, you drop to your knees to unbuckle your platform heels, facing sideways so they won't get to see your bare pussy. Namjoon’s just by his bedroom and you’re thinking of following him there for a quick fun. You’re still on edge but disappointment arises in you when he comes out with some bags in hand just as you’re out of your wedges. 

Namjoon takes a piece of paper from his pocket with one hand, unfolding it to double-check the list of things that he has to purchase. He’s already set on this, turning to you to give a quick hug before putting back his olive green jacket on.

"behave doll, hmm?" he pats your hair and you smile in return, dismissing the joke that you were about to make about his high-time plan as you bid him goodbye.

Seokjin and Taehyung know of you from the times Namjoon brought you to their place. They’re also aware of your "relationship'' so they aren’t fazed at how you and their roommate treat each other. Namjoon leaving you here alone with them is surprising though, they never thought that he’d let you out of his sight especially when other guys are around.

Before your arrival, they’re at the roundtable, munching the Christmas cookies that Seokjin baked earlier. Both men are facing the door when you and Namjoon enter, allowing Taehyung to steal glances at your bare legs. Seokjin elbows him after noticing and he coughs loudly before adjusting the way he sits and greeting Namjoon back. He shouldn’t look again but your skirt’s riding up and he’s tempted so he took another cookie to stop himself.

You haven’t looked at them but they can tell that you’re conflicted about whether to talk to them or not. However, your expression changes as soon as you spot the fridge, approaching it with eager eyes. Each man was about to talk to you but the greeting on their tongues halted when you suddenly bent your body after opening the fridge, exposing your bare pussy in front of them.

Taehyung grips his glass full of milk as he stares at your glistening cunt, almost choking as he tries to chew the cookies he's eating. He knows that he should look away because you’re technically Namjoon’s girl but he can’t help it. There's no way you’re not aware of what you’re doing to them, meaning, you might know how they see you already. He gulps a large amount of milk to clench his drying throat while he can hear Seokjin coughing excessively beside him.

“Give me some Tae” Seokjin discreetly asks beside him, still coughing a bit from choking on the cookies. Taehyung doesn’t even realize that he’s been holding the box of milk with his other hand this whole time, turning around to pass it to Seokjin and noticing the guilt in his hyung’s eyes when their eyes meet.

Like his younger roommate, Seokjin also can’t stray his eyes from your cunt. He tried looking away from your smooth legs when you came in with Namjoon earlier but he can't possibly do that now that you're purposely doing this in front of them. Not only that it shocked them but it also confused him a bit. Sure, he noticed your subtle glances on them before but that’s the only thing you’ve done so far. Still, he’s not sure what you’re planning but the mere absence of your undies shouldn’t have been a surprise; you’re Namjoon's “doll” after all. 

Taehyung thinks it's an invitation while he knows Seokjin will think it's a test. He’s not sure but you’re pushing their limits right now and the self-control that he’s been holding all this time is so close to snapping. You might be oblivious but Namjoon usually teases both him and Seokjin, flaunting you by putting you on his lap whenever you come over. He may act indifferent but his eyes hold that devilish look in them, knowing exactly how his roommates get riled up when you visit. You on the other hand are unaware, never giving Namjoon’s gestures any thought as something else. 

Seokjin didn’t think Namjoon would use you this time though, his most prized possession.

He leaves the table as soon as he recovers from coughing, going straight to the living room’s sofa which is just right across the roundtable to get a moment of clarity. That's failing cause he can see you and Taehyung from here. His younger roommate still sitting on his staring at you, more like at your swollen, wet cunt, fuck.

Seokjin shakes his head, thinking how absurd this whole thing is. Here they are, his younger friend still ogling at your pussy and him struggling from the pull to look back at your bent position.

The living room’s pretty tense at the moment. None of them can guess what your next step is or if you even have one. 

But you surely do, at least that’s what Taehyung’s been thinking, or you won’t be doing this without Namjoon around. His ogling gets disrupted when you stand up from the fridge, turning around to close it with a pack of soft breadsticks in your hands. He hadn't seen those when he scoured the fridge earlier so Namjoon must've hidden your favourite snack where only you can find that's why it took you a while.

Or maybe, you're simply teasing them.

He watches you sit beside him, excitedly opening the box of snacks Namjoon prepared for you. Your sole focus seems to be only on your food, not looking at him or anywhere else. He wonders if you’re purposely ignoring him though, prompting him to make the first move but he won't. 

Until you give in first.

Initially, Taehyung wanted to break the air and start a conversation with you as soon as you sat beside him but you seemed to be very hungry. Namjoon surely did something to you before coming here, that explains why you've been agitated this whole time. Your pussy lips were twitching earlier and your display of hunger just proves Taehyung's assumption.

For now, he’ll let you eat in peace to gain back that energy that he’ll drain as soon as you give him a sign. His eyes, however, can't stop staring at how you bite a breadstick. Your luscious lips closing on it looks so inviting that it’s making his mind imagine how they would look really beautiful around his dick.

"do you want some Tae?" you surprise him with that soft voice of yours, eyes looking straight at him as you bite the breadstick and slowly chew it in your mouth, without blinking.

There it is.

Taehyung secretly smiles, almost cursing and closes his eyes for a bit before standing up. He doesn't miss the surprised look on your face when you just realize that he's only wearing a towel underneath. He was showering earlier and finished just in time when you and Namjon arrived. Of course, he didn’t wanna miss seeing you just in case you were only here for a bit, changing can wait. 

He can’t pass the opportunity up even though Namjoon’s aware of his attraction to you already. Taehyung never hid it unlike Seokjin, he was very obvious since the first time they met you. He knows that he shouldn’t feel this way, the thought of hitting on you never even crossed his mind before. 

But you’re extremely making it hard for him right now.

His grin widens as he walks around the table to stand before you, prompting you to turn and look up at him.

“yeah, i want some”

He retracts his smile as his eyes meet yours. Big eyes looking at him questioningly though he’s starting to believe that you know what you’re doing to him when you swallow the breadstick entirely, your lips moving back up and slowly sucking the tip while the naive look in your eyes is slowly changing into a cheeky one.

Fuck it, he’ll just apologize to Namjoon later.

Taehyung sees your eyes scanning his half-naked body until they descend toward his crotch, a bulge already visible. Hesitation suddenly emerges in your eyes because Namjoon could come home any minute and catch you both in a compromising position. But then you put down the breadstick you’re holding, reaching out to the wet tissue on the table to clean your hands before putting them on top of the towel that’s covering him.

He notices right away that you understand how he’s expecting you to do something to solve his huge problem. He looks at Seokjin who’s giving him the “don’t you dare” look but he sets his jaw at him, his eyes determined on his decision to play with you. He shifts back at your eager eyes looking up at him while one of your hands starts rubbing his bulge, realizing that you’re waiting for something from him.

“go ahead, baby”

Your core clenches at the pet name, smiling excitedly at Taehyung as you pull down the towel that’s wrapped around his hips. What welcomed you is a very angry-looking huge cock that almost slaps you in the face, its tip already coated with precum. You bite your lower lip at how delicious it looks, your mouth watering to taste him.

Namjoon may punish you for it later on but you can't help but be petty that he didn't let you cum earlier. Placing your hand around Taehyung's throbbing cock, you stick out your tongue to give his tip kittenish licks. He lets out a deep groan at that and you really like it so you begin stroking the rest of his cock, hearing more of his deep moans for the first time.

Seokjin calls your name when you're about to swallow Taehyung's cock in your mouth. Why he did, he doesn’t fucking know. He just felt left out somehow even which is hilarious seeing as he’s the one who’s purposely avoiding you. He’s not doing any better when he can clearly see you and his youngest roommate.

Staying away was no use as he couldn’t get the image of your wet cunt out of his mind. He should've just gone back to his room to end this madness, at least one of them has to be sensible. But Taehyung already gave in and Seokjin might not get another chance to have you.

He’s been doing his best to calm himself down from wanting to pounce on you since you are Namjoon’s doll.

But then you turn to him in surprise and he sees your eyes move down towards his crotch, to the bulge that he’s been sporting. He didn't think you'd bother entertaining him when you're already occupied with helping Taehyung.

Seokjin watches how you mindlessly bite your lip while looking at it. He’s fucked. He’d been too obvious and maybe calling your name earlier was also because he wanted to see this exact reaction from you.

Looking back at Taehyung, he sees the smirk on the younger roommate's face, already knowing that his hyung is definitely getting more riled up at his stunt. He hates how the younger’s plan is working even more so when your hands start pumping Taehyung absentmindedly, causing the younger one to hiss. It's a sight that Seokjin finds so hot that he couldn’t help but take out his dick from his pants and calls your name again. 

Your eyes bulge out at how big his cock is, and like entranced, you stand up and leave Taehyung standing there. While approaching Seokjin, your eyes never strayed away from his cock. You want a taste since it’s so big like Taehyung’s, yearning to feel its weight in your mouth.

However, he stops you right when you are about to kneel between his legs, turning your body instead which confuses you. Your eyes search for Taehyung, who's still watching you both from where he's standing, fully naked with the towel now perched on the chair that you were sitting on earlier. 

A frustrated whine was going to erupt from you until you felt Seokjin’s fingers lifting your skirt, making you bend forward as a reflex. Thinking he’s going to eat you out, Taehyung immediately goes in front of you to help you balance but Seokjin’s just staring at your bare pussy. You want to lower your body to sit down on him so you can also pay attention to Taehyung, whose cock is in front of your face. Seokjin stops you though, hands moving to spread your ass cheeks further so he can see your twitching cunt more.

"why nothing under baby?" he finally asks, his raspy voice filled with curiosity as to why you went commando today. This is the first time that he's talking to you directly other than calling your name earlier, adding the "baby" in it now that causes a stir in your stomach. 

"mhhmm, so that he can fuck me anywhere" you whine, hoping that he'll hurry up so they can fuck you already. 

Seokjin should’ve expected it, and the mention of Namjoon momentarily brings back his guilt about what he and Taehyung are about to do with you. As if you can sense his dilemma, he watches your head turn around as your hand covers his, smiling at him to assure that everything is okay with you.

Relief washes through Seokjin's face as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s not just daydreaming this whole thing because you do want them both. He doesn’t know what to do later when Namjoon arrives but for now, he’ll just enjoy what you’re offering. While he’s still contemplating, you decide to sit down on him, your damped pussy lips sliding on top of his swollen dick which causes him to groan inwardly. 

You don’t waste time as soon as you settle on Seokjin’s lap and take Taehyung’s awaiting cock in your mouth, sucking half of him off slowly and giving kitten licks around his tip until he gets impatient, one hand withdrawing from holding up your arms to grip your head. 

Taehyung eyes you with a warning look, clearly not amused at your teasing so you immediately take him whole until his tip reaches the back of your throat. Enjoying the sound of your gagging, he thrusts again, causing your head to bump against Seokjin who’s dipping his head a little to focus on finding any ounce of resistance within himself. Taehyung finds this entertaining, noticing his older roommate refusing to hold you even though you started grinding on Seokjin’s dick unconsciously while sucking him off.

“let go hyung, we all knew how much you want to fuck her” 

Seokjin seethes at Taehyung’s remarks, glaring at him because the younger one’s right no matter how much he denies it. Despite the innocence you’ve been showing each time Namjoon brings you over, the look you always give to him and Taehyung is quite the opposite. You do this without Namjoon noticing but they do, further confusing them about how you see them. 

They shouldn’t care in the first place but the mutual interest between you is what pushes Seokjin to release a deep sigh before gripping your bare waist, hard.

“fuck”

You hear Seokjin curse before moaning at his hard grip, making your breathing quicken. Finally.

Out of all of them, he’s the hardest for you to decipher, not knowing what he’s capable of doing so you’re beyond thrilled now that he’s finally giving in to you. Your excitement increases while hearing him rummage through the side table’s drawer, possibly looking for a stash of condoms so you release Taehyung’s cock from your mouth to turn around to stop Seokjin.

Revealing to them both your intention all along. You never let anyone fuck you raw aside from Namjoon as it is the same for him if he’s fucking others but-

"i want to treat you..", you try wiggling your hips under his grip before looking up in front to meet Taehyung’s blown-out pupils as you continue, "the both of you". Taehyung’s hold on your arms tightens, causing you to wince a bit but a grin graces your lips which didn’t go unnoticed by him. Seokjin stops his movements too, still processing what you just said before bringing his attention back to you.

"you're gonna treat us baby?" a yelp comes out from you when Seokjin suddenly slaps your bare pussy. He spreads your legs further, both hands creeping in your inner thighs under your skirt until you feel his fingers prod on your already wet folds but one of your hands left the other man’s grip to stop him.

"N-Namjoon fingered me already" you inform them both breathlessly, acting a bit shy with your tone but both men know what your real intentions are through the mischief that they see in your eyes.

Your skirt’s still on and Seokjin starts tugging it, clearly demanding for it to be removed so you let go of Taehyung's hold so you can take it off, with Seokjin assisting you until the skirt's discarded somewhere on the floor.

Now you’re only on your pastel purple buttoned-up crop top as Seokjin guides your hips back to him. He fists his cock with one hand, guiding it along your folds as he brings your body down to his cock. When your cunt finally opens up to him, Seokjin releases a guttural moan, closing his eyes as your warm walls envelop his cock.

"big, oh fuck, so big" you whimper, mouth falling open at the slow intrusion because fuck, you feel like his cock could literally split you in half. You continue lowering yourself more, with Taehyung assisting you with your arms until the back of your thighs touches Seokjin's firm thighs.

“can see your pussy now being stuffed clearly with my cock" 

Seokjin breathes out against your shoulders, his mind reeling at how fast everything happened. You were just teasing them both earlier and now his cock’s inside you. You’re even letting him fuck you raw, which he never expected. He’d think this treat from you is too much but who is he to complain? he's been wanting to fuck you since the first time Namjoon introduced you to them.

You grab Taehyung's hips as leverage, pulling yourself up so you can position your legs by Seokjin's thighs. Planting one of your palms at the edge of the couch, you drop your body back to Seokjin's lap and start rolling your hips on his dick. The man behind you groans in surprise, hands latching on your hips to guide you at once.

Suddenly though, Taehyung grips your hair to pull you back towards his neglected cock which you immediately put back in your mouth. Humming around him, you bob your head faster and Taehyung couldn’t help but buck his hips further in your mouth at that.

"fuck, Joon-hyung must've trained your throat a lot hmm? you take me very well baby" he caresses your head and you preen at his praise, opening the back of your throat more to take him deeper than you already are.

“still.. so tight” Seokjin continues to moan deeply behind you, hands alternating between groping what he can touch and guiding your hips as he bounces you on his cock. 

Taehyung lolls his head back at how warm your mouth is around him. He only opens them when you begin moaning more around his cock again, his eyes focusing this time on your bouncing breasts. Your crop top is doing nothing to hold them.

“hyung, take it off” he signals a dazed Seokjin who starts unbuttoning your crop top right away.

Taehyung takes a sharp breath, seeing your breast bounce freely now that you’re fully naked that he couldn’t resist fucking your mouth more. His rough thrusts cause your eyes to water which Taehyung finds so sexy, his cock twitching at the sight. Seokjin’s the same with how his hands are greedily groping your bare tits, trying to thrust up into you at the same time.

"pretty..pretty doll..shit"

Your legs are on fire at this point but you asked for this and it’s worth seeing both men crumble because of you. Taehyung’s about to cum, his lower abs flexing and his hand's tightening their hold on your head. He spews more curses so you eagerly match his thrust, winking at him as soon as he locks eyes with you which takes Taehyung by surprise.

He might not be aware of your dynamics with Namjoon as much as Seokjin’s but he knows his hyung.

He’s fucked but it stupidly triggered his release. He cums a lot, so much that even if you try swallowing all of them you couldn’t and you’re not allowed to. Instead, you open your mouth to show him how you play his cum around inside your mouth before letting it dribble on your chin, dripping through the column of your throat down to your perky breasts that Seokjin has been massaging nonstop.

His labouring breaths are a sign that he’s about to cum as well but you’re just the same, feeling the lower band of your stomach about to snap. Now that your mouth’s not stuffed with Taehyung’s cock anymore, your moans are loud and clear. Seokjin’s hitting your soft spot continuously, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“shit, omy-” a loud cry came out from you, your back arching and jerking while you gushed on Seokjin’s cock. Your head landed on his shoulder, whining at his unchanging pace as he too was chasing his own release. Seokjin’s hold on you got firmer and he eyes Taehyung quickly before pulling you up, the latter catching you while he shoots his cum on your ass.

You surprise Taehyung when you nuzzle your face against his groin, licking his cock clean after and an amusing smile appears on his handsome face.

“cockslut” he mutters, brushing your messy hair away from your sweaty face. The raunchy pet name elicits a giggle from you as you let go of his hardening cock. Unbelievable. The grin on your lips stays on until you feel your legs straining from exhaustion.

Seokjin’s cumming so much that when you tried sitting back on his lap, his cock’s still releasing more cum. You take his twitching cock and place it between your ass cheeks as you sit, rubbing on it which causes him to release even more.

All three of you are exhausted, feeling the very wet and sticky cum on your bodies and his softening cock between your soaked pussy. Your eyes are barely open but a satisfied grin graces your lips. Taehyung decides to kneel in front of you, playing with the drying cum around your breasts while you're resting. They’re still sensitive to Seokjin’s nonstop assault the entire time they’re fucking you.

He grabs your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he smiles at you fondly.

"baby's a whore"

"yeah, filthy baby" Taehyung muses in response, looking at you with amusement. Seokjin does the same, murmuring praises beside your head and leaving a peck on your shoulder while caressing your arms.

"filthy doll"

The deep voice that answers from the corner of the room halts the three of you, immediately changing the once dazed atmosphere.

Taehyung’s eyes turn to you who mirror the same nervous eyes as he does. You start to squirm on Seokjin’s lap as you see Namjoon standing by the door, holding some bags full of Christmas decorations and gifts. His expression is void of anything which makes Taehyung and Seokjin at a loss on what to do next. The apology is ready to come out from him as he eyes Seokjin who turns quiet and shares the panicking eyes, unsure of how to hold you now that Namjoon caught the three of you.

“hyung-” he starts nervously, his plan on fucking you after was replaced by the need to explain the whole situation to his newly-arrived roommate but Namjoon cuts him off, only staring at your dishevelled form with one raised brow.

"did you enjoy your treat doll?"

Both men are too stunned to speak at Namjoon’s question, their eyes widening in confusion at their roommate and how this conversation’s progressing. Namjoon normally doesn’t share what’s his and as much as they’re not sure if you are, you’re still considered as his so the man’s amused face further confused the other two.

"i did", you meekly answer him, wiping Taehyung’s cum from your mouth with the back of your hands before standing up with wobbling legs as you walk towards him.

Seokjin hisses when your body’s warmth leaves him, instantly grabbing the tissues on the table to start cleaning himself up and putting back his clothes on. Taehyung’s still fully naked with his perplexed expression, eyes never leaving you as you walk towards their roommate so Seokjin hands him something to cover himself up with.

Namjoon catches your waist, eyes scanning through the mess of his roommates’ cum on your body. He takes a coat from the standing rack’s hook and puts them on you, ignoring the stains of cum that will transfer (presumably if it’s his). He stares at you for a bit and you’re beaming at the pride in his eyes for fooling his roommates and getting what you want at the same time.

A smile slowly appears on his lips and to your surprise, Namjoon kisses your forehead gently, in front of his roommates who mirrored your surprised reaction. This is the first time Taehyung and Seokjin witnessed Namjoon be affectionate to you with them around. But his strong grip around your waist says the opposite, one hand coming down to grope your ass, earning a whimper from you after. Just a reminder to everyone who you really belong to.

"do you have my request?" you break the silence in the living room, acting all normal like you didn’t just fuck Namjoon’s roommates in their living room and him catching you three. Your focus is only on him, looking at his eyes with obvious intent.

"of course" he gives a dimpled smile and takes your hand. He stops by the table to put down some of the shopping bags except for a specific bag that you’ve been eyeing since he arrived. 

As you both retreat to Namjoon’s room, he turns to his roommates who are still glued to where they’re standing.

"consider this as a birthday gift, for you both"

e/n: ngl i miss being this nasty lol 21 year old me was definitely something else. the writing's a bit different since i haven't opened this doc in about 2 years 😅

[achocosun]

all I need is the air that I breathe, and to love you ft. lee mark !

𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ genre ; non-idol!mark × fem reader. fluff, pure unadulterated fluff. established relationship au. use of pet names (for her: baby, pretty girl / for him: lovie). just a short drabble to get used to posting on tumblr. ugh this turned tooth-rottingly sweet.

𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ word count ; 1.4k (this was supposed to be shorter but well, i got carried away haha)

𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ warning(s) ; none that i see ^^

𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ notes ; divider by @mewryn (it's so pretty oml)

laughter. the sound of laughter had to be your favorite music that drifted leisurely throughout the apartment.

be it hushed chuckles over a movie or a funny tiktok your boyfriend sent over to you, the rambunctious cackling that tailed your group of friends when they'd indulged a little too much in drinks after dinners that often than not happened in the home you shared with mark–you cherished them all the very same.

before you moved into the flat on the tenth floor, the highest any residential building went in the street equidistant to both of your workplaces, you had some doubts. mostly concerning how eerily quiet it tended to get even with the faint honks of traffic in the heart of seoul.

you could owe it to your upbringing in the city, never once truly alone despite how easily it was slipping into a faraway headspace. you still did that sometimes but after meeting mark, the use of your headphones that'd found purchase against your ears got lesser and lesser. until you could go days just listening to his little tangents.

of course, it was more because of the fact that you adored how his whole face brightened as he shared with you something, anything he held dear. the way his soft brown eyes twinkled as he animatedly explained his point made you lose all sense of reality.

once in sophmore year of college, he had stopped for half a minute and then chuckled at you staring at him in awe. it had taken him waving his hand before you and a "hello, earth to _______? do i have something on my face?" for you to realize your embarrassing predicament.

only mark didn't seem to find it odd. no, on the contrary he found the gesture endearing. he had that tendency to ramble, everyone told him as much. but for you to listen to every word and hang onto it infused a swell in his heart, a giddy feeling he honestly did not want to suppress.

with mark, everything came in it's most simple form. relationships were not supposed to be easy, each one had it's own complications as did yours. but with him you knew you would always try to work through every rough patch because your boyfriend was willing just as much.

you had put an official label on your relationship in junior year, and not being strangers to the amount of teasing that would ensue from your rather large circle of friends, you had decided to keep it lowkey, letting them find out on their own and ease into it.

but with your streak of not keeping your hands–or lips for that matter—off each other, it took them two weeks flat to figure it out. but that's on johnny and his inability to knock on doors as he strutted into mark's dorm as if it was his own, oblivious to you both tangled in each other's arms on the small sofa pushed against the wall beside the balcony.

to your surprise, no noticeably grand change came with the reveal. in johnny's words, you and mark had always been sort of touchy with each other even as friends. he told you to keep the make-outs to a minimum and nobody else would know for sure.

after graduation, mark had mustered up the courage to ask you to move in with him. he had put a lot of thought into it—scoured for decently sized apartments, looked for help from his older friends and even went as far as to ask your parents for their opinion.

of course, the one answer that mattered was yours but even the fact that he asked your parents made you feel elated. and it definitely earned him their seal of approval.

the hesitant question had followed a meal of chinese takeout for dinner as you leaned your head on his shoulder, watching the movie playing in the living room of his childhood home, an arm wrapped around his waist. you had noticed his skittishness all night and it all came to a head as he played with the ends of your hair.

"i was thinking", mark started, taking your hum as approval to continue while you lowered the volume of the tv. "and seriously you can take as much time to think or even say no, i won't force you."

this time you turned to face him fully, a frown creeping up to your face. "what is it, markie? is something wrong?"

"i– well..." he took a sharp breath, eyes never once meeting your own. "i was thinking maybe you can move in with me?"

the silence that followed only plummeted his heart further down his stomach. mark moved an inch away from you, grabbing the remote from your grasp while shaking his head. "never mind. it's way too soon to think of that stuff, right? that's was a sudden, stupid ques—"

"don't say that. nothing you said is stupid." regaining your voice, you shifted closer to him, your grip sliding up his arm and towards nape as you rubbed the area. his shoulders slouched visibly, irrate heartbeat slowing just a little.

you smiled up at him, deft fingers smoothing across his across his brow and finally resting against his cheeks. it took a little tug for him to finally face you, mouth opening and closing as he wracked his brain for the appropriate words to find him when you spoke again.

"i would love to move in with you, mark."

as much as you loved mark when he's talking, sometimes you took great pleasure in rendering him speechless.

as quick as lightning he held your wrists with widened eyes, stopping the advances of your hands down his perfectly sculpted face. you brushed his knee softly as his adam's apple bobbed with a dry gulp.

mark found it hard to even formulate a thought, let alone speak. just when he'd started believing all of this was a bad idea, horrendous really, your admission nearly made his brain short-circuit.

"woah, wait— no. what?" he stumbled over the words eliciting a giggle out of you. "run that by me again, baby. i don't think i heard you correctly."

swatting his shoulder playfully, you took liberty to throw a leg over his, straddling his lap. "you heard me just right the first time, lovie. i think we should do it, move in together. i mean, we have somewhat stable jobs and it would stop us from inconveniencing your parents or mine. honestly, i love your mother but i got goosebumps when she winked at me on the way out."

mark managed a chuckle, rubbing up and down the sides on your legs on either side of him. this had been your arrangement after college. date nights in either of your houses meant the parents always had to leave unless they wanted to walk in on their not-so-little-anymore kids doing anything reserved for behind closed doors.

suddenly, you found yourself being pulled forwards into his chest as his ecstasy evolved into child-like laughter–carefree and unbound. his arms tightened around your form as you succumbed to your own joy.

mark whispered against your hair between pressing kisses to the crown of your head, "i love you, you know that?"

you peeked up at him, cheeks starting to hurt from the wide smile that nothing in the world could dampen. "do you?"

"mhmm. and now that we will live together, i'll remind you everyday, pretty girl. over and over."

sometimes, it scared you how dependent you had gotten on this one single person. finding your chest surging with pride in his every minute success, just as it ached when he hurted.

mark looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. then again, you were sure you'd visit every length to do just that if he so much as asked.

and that night had brought you to this one, sitting against the armrest of the loveseat surrounded by your friends, legs thrown over your boyfriend's as he held you close. you knew he would never let you fall but every fiber in your being appreciated the closeness regardless.

you smiled at haechan's dramatic recounting of some incident in the pub last night, finding comfort in the fingers thrumming to an unknown beat against your hips.

as your eyes wandered to every occupant of the cozy living room of your apartment—yours and mark's—you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars for this chance.

because until you have this little life, this warm, lived-in home, your friends, family and most importantly him by your side, nothing could make you a stranger to the sense of contentment.

© ACHOCOSUN '2024 on tumblr

[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

[luvleyshif4]

ECHO HEARTS

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: In the middle of Tannyhill’s chaos, Rafe Cameron pulls you away with a confession that stirs up everything you’ve been trying to forget. Your past with him is messy, late night talks, broken promises, and feelings you could never quite shake. But this time, he’s asking for something more, something that could change both your lives forever.

Warnings: Minor mention of toxic relationship, Unresolved past trauma, A tad bit of angst with a happy ending, Hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1.9k words

Authors note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting on my blog and I’m excited (and a bit nervous) to share it with you. It’s been on my mind for a while, and I’m glad it’s finally out. Hope you enjoy it!!

Tannyhill was a place you’d been to only a handful of times, always under the guise of a party or some other excuse to keep the Pogues and Kooks mingling, if only temporarily. But tonight was different. You hadn’t come for the music, the drinks, or even the atmosphere. You were here for one reason only—Rafe Cameron.

You hated that he had this hold on you. It wasn’t just the way he carried himself, all sharp edges and stormy glances, or the way he commanded a room without even trying. It was the way he saw through you, past the walls you’d spent years building. It was that look in his eyes, always like he could unravel every secret you’d locked away, piece by piece.

Your history with Rafe wasn’t something you talked about. It was messy, undefined, the kind of thing you couldn’t neatly explain to anyone, not even yourself. You weren’t together, not in the traditional sense, but there was something between you. Something that kept pulling you back no matter how much you told yourself to stay away.

The first time you really spoke to Rafe was during one of those aimless summer nights when you’d ended up on the beach long after everyone else had left. You’d been walking barefoot along the shore, letting the waves lap at your ankles, when you saw him sitting by a dying bonfire. His usual bravado was nowhere to be found. He looked… lost.

You’d hesitated for a moment, unsure whether you should approach. Rafe was always surrounded by people, his charisma impossible to ignore. But tonight, he was alone. And you couldn’t ignore the quiet sorrow that seemed to weigh him down.

“You okay?” you’d asked, cautiously approaching.

He’d glanced up at you, his eyes glassy but sharp, as if weighing your words. “Do I look okay?”

Normally, you would’ve walked away. But something about the way he said it, like he was daring you to care, made you sit down beside him instead. The night had felt heavy, and his presence, oddly, made it feel less suffocating.

You both sat there for a while in silence, just listening to the sound of the waves crashing. Finally, Rafe spoke again, his voice quieter now. “Sometimes, I think it’s easier to just disappear, you know? Just… walk away from everything and everyone.”

It was strange, hearing him admit something like that. Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince, who never showed weakness, suddenly seemed like a person who couldn’t carry the weight of his own life anymore.

“You don’t mean that,” you’d replied gently.

“I don’t know,” he’d said, his fingers flicking idly through the sand. “I guess I just get tired of pretending. Tired of trying to live up to my dad’s impossible standards, always having to be someone I’m not. Always having to be perfect.”

You’d never expected him to share something so raw, so unguarded. By the time the sun rose, you realized you weren’t just looking at Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince with a bad reputation. You were looking at someone who was just as broken as you were. And, maybe, for the first time, you saw him as something more than a puzzle you couldn’t quite solve.

From then on, things between you were… complicated.

The party at Tannyhill was a predictable mess of bodies and noise, but you hadn’t come here to celebrate. You’d come because Rafe had sent you a cryptic text earlier that day

“Need to see you. Tonight. Don’t make me beg.”

You should’ve ignored it. You’d told yourself you were done with him the last time he’d shown up at your door, drunk and spiraling, apologizing in the only way he knew how, with promises he couldn’t keep. But deep down, you knew you weren’t done. Not yet.

You scanned the crowd, eyes moving over the familiar faces of both Pogues and Kooks, but you didn’t see him. Your heart started to race a little faster. Where was he?

That was when you felt his gaze on you. You looked up and found him standing just at the edge of the crowd, a drink in hand, his gaze fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He caught your eye before you could decide whether or not to approach, and his lips curved into that trademark smirk of his. It was a smirk that always seemed to make your heart race, despite every single warning you’d told yourself.

“Took you long enough,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the sudden flutter of nerves in your chest. “You didn’t say it was urgent.”

He stepped closer, the crowd parting like water around him. “Maybe it is. Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, a reaction you hated. “What do you want, Rafe?”

The smirk faded, and for a moment, something softer took its place. “Come with me,” he said, his voice now a low command.

Before you could protest, he reached out, his hand wrapping around yours. His touch was firm but desperate, pulling you through the crowd without a word. You had no choice but to follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the world around you growing distant.

You both moved through the house, the noise and music still ringing in your ears, but it didn’t matter. His grip on your hand was steady, unyielding. It was like he was afraid if he let go, you might slip away.

Finally, you reached the back door, stepping out into the cool night air. The path leading away from the house was dark, only the faintest trace of moonlight guiding you toward the boathouse. Your breath quickened, unsure what this was about but knowing it was a decision you couldn’t take back.

“What’s going on?” you asked once you were inside, the door shutting behind you. The boathouse was dim, lit only by the glow of the water outside, its quiet isolation adding to the tension in the air.

Rafe was pacing the small space, his movements quick and agitated. He looked like he was trying to find the words, but he couldn’t quite get there. Finally, he stopped, his back to you for a moment, before turning around with that seriousness in his eyes that you rarely saw.

“I’m leaving,” he said abruptly, his voice sharp, but it didn’t match the vulnerability in his eyes.

You blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of his words. “What do you mean, leaving?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he replied, his voice tight, each word measured. “I can’t do this anymore. The parties, the expectations, my dad… all of it. I’m done.”

Your chest tightened, a knot forming in your stomach. You wanted to ask him why now, why after everything, but you already knew the answer. He’d been drowning for so long, and you were just one of the lifelines he hadn’t quite let go of.

“And where are you planning to go?” you asked quietly, bracing yourself.

He shrugged, though the gesture seemed more defeated than anything. “Anywhere but here.”

You should’ve been angry. You should’ve told him that he was being selfish, that he couldn’t just throw everything away like it meant nothing. But instead, you understood. You understood better than you cared to admit.

“I’m guessing you didn’t just drag me out here to say goodbye,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe turned toward you then, his jaw clenched tightly. “No, I didn’t want to leave without seeing you. Without… asking you to come with me.”

The weight of his words hit you like a freight train. Your heart seemed to skip a beat, and you could feel the air shift between you, the gravity of his request hanging thick in the space.

“Rafe…” your voice faltered, unsure how to process what he was asking.

“I know it’s crazy,” he rushed to say, stepping closer, the desperation evident in his eyes. “I know you probably think I’m out of my mind, but I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.”

You stood there, frozen, torn between the part of you that wanted to say yes and the part that feared it.

“What happens when things get hard?” you asked, your voice shaking with the weight of your doubt. “What happens when you get scared, or angry, or when you start pushing me away again? Because you will, Rafe. I know you will….”

His eyes softened, his features pulling tight with frustration. His eyes start to sting with tears that dared to brim. He ran a hand through his hair again, like he was trying to find some answer he didn’t have. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be better, for you. Because you’re the only person who makes me want to try.”

Those words, sincere and raw, hit you harder than you expected. It was everything you wanted to hear, but also everything you were afraid to trust.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, the words barely above a whisper. Your heart ached as the reality of it all set in.

Rafe closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His touch was soft, almost tentative. “Yes, you can,” he said, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that almost stole your breath. “You can, if you let me show you.”

You stood there for a moment, lost in his gaze, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread. It felt like everything was pushing you toward him, his touch, his words, the unspoken promise in his eyes. But the fear, the doubt, and the uncertainty of it all still lingered. Could you trust him? Could you risk it all again?

Rafe seemed to sense your hesitation. He stepped back, his hands slowly falling to his sides, giving you space, but his eyes never left you. “I get it,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I’m not asking you to make any decisions right now. But… if you want to take that step with me, I’ll be here. No more games. No more lies.”

The sincerity in his voice was so raw, it almost broke something inside of you. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the weight of the past, the mistakes, the lies, it all threatened to crush you under its burden.

“I don’t know if I can just… forget everything,” you said, your voice trembling, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “You hurt me, Rafe. So many times.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if the words had physically struck him. When he opened them again, there was a sadness in his gaze that matched your own. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it if you’ll let me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Every part of you was telling you to walk away, to protect yourself, but something inside of you, something you couldn’t ignore, wanted to give him a chance.

“I’m not perfect,” Rafe continued, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not asking you to fix me. I just want to be with you. To give this a real shot. Together.”

Your thoughts were a whirlwind, but you couldn’t shake the pull you felt toward him. It had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface, and maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking that leap.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice faltering as you took a step closer to him. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I get hurt again?”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your face once more, this time with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll let you go. But I swear, I won’t hurt you again. Not if I can help it.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes. “But if you screw this up, Rafe—”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm. “Not this time.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise.

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d keep it.

[tackykachowch]

OKAY CHAT I DIDN'T INTEND IT TO BE THIS WAY BUT THIS POST IS SUPER-HUGE. Read at your own risk lol

*taps the mic* Uh, welcome to Chili's. So, I mustered up the courage to finally make a post about how I view Silco and Jinx's relationship and why I think it is actually a lot better than it's commonly perceived. Please please please do not assume that I do this to specifically whitewash Silco or make him less morally gray, this is my genuine read on them based on my own experience and views. I do not claim that I don't have any bias at all, but I think that it didn't influence my opinion that much.

I am going to say this from the start: I don't have much negative to say about them and I don't think of their relationship as toxic. If this point of view is unacceptable to you, please disregard this post. However, if you want to discuss this topic with me and challenge my points, please be civil about it and don't insult me. I don't have any ill intentions, nor am I trying to normalize unhealthy behavior.

Okay, from this preamble to another. This analysis is going to be based entirely on season 1 and nothing else. Some of my points will address common perceptions about them in the fandom, some I'll write as a regular analysis.

Now let's start shall we (yes, this is going to be a one long post because they're so so important to me). In the second paragraph I said that I don't view their relationship as toxic. Let me explain. I think this is a very complex topic and opinions will vary from person to person. Considering that both Silco and Jinx are mentally ill this adds another layer to our already complicated cake. So, for me toxic relationships are those where at least one person almost always behaves in the way they see is right, disregarding other person's wants or needs. It also must include unhealthy/toxic behaviors, i. e. manipulation, gaslighting, possessiveness, control over other person's decisions, physical and/or emotional abuse etc etc. These behaviors must be routinely occurrences and not happen only once or twice. You can say: "But a lot of things you listed exactly describe how Silco behaves towards Jinx!" well. No but I'll get to this later.

There's also an elephant in the room we need to deal with: codependency. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on the topic or even well-informed, but I have a feeling that this term is a Bit overused. Terms, especially medical ones, are very useful for describing one specific thing. But as of late a lot of terms are used on things that are not. Well. The thing the term is describing. You don't need to go far for examples: hyperfixation, depression, panic attack, etc. When knowledge becomes widespread, things like that are inevitable, unfortunately. But back to the topic. Are Jinx and Silco's relationship codependent? I personally don't think so. One of the key characteristics of a codependent relationship is losing a sense of self and disregarding your wants/needs, and Jinx and Silco never display that. They are very self-driven characters. And while Jinx did do some things to impress Silco, it's not necessarily a symptom of a codependent relationship specifically. Again, I'll compare it to medical symptoms. If your right side hurts it doesn't mean you have appendicitis, if you have a short attention span it doesn't mean you have ADHD. Mental health problems Jinx and Silco have can be just that: mental health problems. Trust issues, low self-esteem, fear of abandonment, etc. They don't need to be a part of a bigger problem, even if there are some similarities. (Also just a side note: I got misdiagnosed with OCD this year, so I take correct descriptions and understanding of conditions/words very personally).

MAN THAT WAS TOO LONG. GET TO THE ACTUAL POINTS.

Alright. So first of all, Jinx and Silco are VERY trusting of each other. They both allow each other to enter their personal spaces, and feel comfortable and free in each other's presence. Silco allows Jinx to do his eye injections, to show him physical affection, he also trusts her with missions for his job, even when everyone else is against it. When Jinx in ep4 tells him that "(her screw up) won't happen again", he simply answers "I know". Despite Jinx's own insecurities Silco fully trusts her (sometimes even to his own detriment). And she fully trusts him as well (until the whole Vi shenanigans anyway), what can be seen in a way she's not afraid of his emotions or even to hurt him, because she knows perfectly well that he'll never harm her in any way (physical, I mean). And although there is a clear miscommunication between them in ep4 I don't think it's a common thing between them, and this specific case was caused by Jinx's deeply rooted trauma and low self-esteem, which Silco is unfortunately unable to fix.

Now onto the probably most common criticism of Silco specifically: that he made Jinx his weapon and raised her to be this bloodthirsty on purpose. And to this I say - no way. Silco DOES love Jinx and DOES trust her, but he's not blind and not an idiot. He perfectly knows that Jinx can cause a huge mess and potential troubles on the missions, his subordinates hate her, her mental state is unstable and therefore she's not the most reliable asset in the slightest, nor a necessary one. At no point do we get actual proof that Silco needs Jinx specifically for his operations, he seems to allow her to participate in them out of her own volition. After all, she does like being needed and included in the family business. You could argue that he needs Jinx for her gadgets and weapons, but nobody besides her uses them, so this option doesn't fit. "But he did request her to build Fishbones!" yeah. After Jinx stole the gemstone, again, out of her own choice. Silco is a swift strategist, if he sees an opportunity somewhere he takes it immediately. So there's nothing actually wrong with him asking Jinx to build a weapon with the use of gemstone. She didn't steal it for it to just. Lie there, after all. As to her bloodthirsty-ness I think he only nurtured what was already there. If you remember, in the very first episode Jinx made a bomb with NAILS in it. I don't think I need to tell you that it's just a horrible idea for a bomb, and she was only 9 at the time. As to Silco's "become what they fear" line. I don't think it indicates that he specifically raised Jinx to be a weapon, because he applied the same phrase to himself and we don't see him running around throwing glitter bombs at everyone (although it would've been cool to see ngl).

Next - Silco is very supportive of Jinx. His office is filled with things she drew all over, her inventions are tied to the ceiling. When Jinx is overwhelmed and upset about the failed mission he tells her to "focus on her gadgetry" and to "take some time". He clearly knows what she likes and what would put her in a better mood. He also doesn't restrict her self-expression, which can be seen in the way Jinx looks. I mean, you'd think that Silco would probably want for her to wear something more...classy? But he doesn't mind even one bit.

Another point I see a lot - that Silco loves Jinx but not Powder. I actually kiiinda understand where this point of view comes from, because the show does frame Vi and Silco as representatives of her Powder and Jinx persona respectively, but I don't think the text itself supports this. Let's take the river scene because it is the cause of this discussion in the first place after all. Silco tells Jinx that she needs "to let Powder die" and that "Jinx is perfect", but I don't necessarily agree that he meant it in a "choose between two of your personas" kind of way, because this conflict never existed between them in the first place. Vi does want "Powder" to come back, but Silco didn't show anything that would indicate of him disliking young Jinx in any way. He did adopt her when she was still Powder, after all. And even if she changed her name on the same night, her personality didn't, because that's not how humans work. So, he NEEDED to love Powder to raise her. Back to the river scene, he tells Jinx that she needs to let Powder die so "the fear of pain would no longer control (her)". "Powder" is tightly connected to Jinx's trauma of killing her entire family and Vi leaving her, i. e. the fear of pain of being betrayed again and the fear of messing up. In terms of psychology she really does need to live through this moment and properly process it, but unfortunately there's no psychologists in neither Piltover or Zaun, and Silco being mentally ill and not knowing better himself can only help her this way. "Jinx is perfect" also doesn't mean that he prefers Jinx over Powder, but rather "Jinx, the person you are right now, is perfect and strong. You need to let that weak part of you (Powder) die, so you can move on and become something greater". Jinx might've interpreted his line in the wrong way herself, but again, there's no actual evidence of Silco liking "Powder" less and only ever wanting "Jinx". And if we hop further into the finale, he literally says "YOU are perfect". Whatever seat she chooses, she will always be perfect to him. Even if she turns against him and everything he fights for, even if she kills him, even if she hates him, she remains perfect in his eyes. He might differentiate "Powder" and "Jinx" and a weaker/stronger part of her, but despite all that she's still his daughter.

Also. He's dealing with her mental health SOOOO great chat it's not even funny. I mean obviously he can't take care of it perfectly because again, psychology is non-existent in this world, but everything he CAN do he does just sooo good. He never lets other people berate or insult her, if he scolds her he only ever does this in private, he always tries to be patient and gentle with her, and the only time we seem him lash out at her is after Jinx stole the gemstone. He also seems to know what causes her psychosis and how to stop it, because he yells "Don't listen to her!" to Jinx when Vi triggers her, and then proceeds to try and shoot in Vi's direction to shut her up. We now know that this wasn't the best decision at all, but he literally goes feral when Jinx is hurt, so can you really blame him? There is of course an issue of him enabling her violence and letting her do everything she wants, but to cut Silco some slack he deals with a very mentally ill child, and as we saw in ep3 cutting Jinx off of something can easily cause her to have a mental breakdown. So I think partly his enabling was caused by his want not to hurt her.

Phew. I think we only need to get through the minor points now.

Manipulation: we only ever see Silco manipulate Jinx once, when he lied to her about Cait and Vi's reason for being in the Underground. Nothing indicates that he regularly manipulated her before.

Possessivness: I think this claim also doesn't have substantial evidence to back it up. We only see Silco being possessive of Jinx because of Vi, and even then it's not pure possessiveness. He literally doesn't want Jinx to be betrayed and possibly even killed like him. I think if Jinx just wanted to leave him on her own he would be a-okay with that. Also he doesn't watch over what she does/where she goes, which again reinforces his trust in her and him respecting her privacy.

Silco isolated Jinx from others: uhhh. See the end of the previous paragraph. If Jinx wanted to befriend someone she could've easily done that, and Silco wouldn't even know. The only person she couldn't befriend because of him is Ekko, but even he says to Vi that Jinx chose to be on Silco's side herself, so *shrugs*

And with that, I think I covered everything I wanted about their relationship. It's not perfect, but it's not bad either. Personally, I don't want to label it as anything, because minus the drug mafia and murders aspects they're just a regular father and daughter. There are no perfect parents, there are no perfect children, but if they try their hardest to love each other in a way they're both happy with, they're great in my book.

[querenciasturniolo]

headcannons ⮕ m.s

a/n: 75% boyfriend headcannons, 25% plus sized reader headcannons, but i definitely did my best !! @rainsoakedphoenix , i hope you enjoy, love 🫶🏻💓

❥ matt in the talking stage is very quick to reply, and always has something to add to the conversation. he’s flirty, but subtle about it, not wanting you to think he’s moving too fast, or give you the wrong impression.

❥ this dude is an absolute open BOOK. any question you ask him, he answers openly and honestly.

❥ he hates small talk, absolutely despises it. would rather talk about incredibly deep, philosophical things instead of a simple “how are you ?”

❥ would ask you “what are we ?” instead of just asking you out, idk man, dude’s complicated.

❥ he would not give a fuck about you being plus sized, not a single one. he likes you bc you’re a good person, and nothing else matters to him in the slightest than that.

❥ “get out of here, you’re perfect just how you are.”

❥ hands on your hips and waist when you’re out in public. i wouldn’t say he’s a fan of pda, but he isn’t one to not have a hold of you somewhere.

❥ in a more private setting ? dude is cuddly and needy as HELL. constantly holding you, whether it’s just your hand, his arm around your shoulder, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, shoulders, waist, you name it.

❥ on days where you’re insecure, he’s quick to snap you out of it. he can tell whether you need reassurance or a distraction without you even having to explain.

❥ HUGE on reading body language and tone of voice, can tell immediately if something is wrong just by the way you’re breathing.

❥ pet names for days. “baby”, “babe”, “love”, “beautiful”, “bunny” (fight me, i dare you), dude will throw in “toots” in an awful boston accent, just to make you laugh and see you roll your eyes

❥ whiny, whiny, W H I N Y. constantly asking for cuddles, kisses, hugs, scratches, everything.

❥ huge words of affirmation guy, never gets tired of hearing that you love him or your thanks for him doing something for you. essentially, he’s a giant puppy dog.

❥ always has his hand on your thigh when he’s driving oh my GOD

❥ instead of physical gifts for anniversaries, he’d give you love letters (i’m sobbing)

❥ dude is not afraid to post you anywhere, absolutely ADORES showing you off, even if it’s just of you sleeping in his lap, or an underview of you watching the tv and playing with his hair

❥ “what ? i can’t show off what’s mine ?” (kill me)

❥ supportive of you in every single aspect, not once has he ever looked at you and made you feel like you couldn’t do what you wanted

❥ lowkey possessive, but not in a toxic way ! just wants you all to himself, and gets whiny when you have to go or you have other plans and can’t come over. it’s mostly a joke, and he’d never ever do it if it actually upset you, he just truly does want you around all of the time.

❥ HUGE on setting boundaries early in the relationship, wants to know your ‘hell yes’s and ‘hell no’s IMMEDIATELY

❥ says “i love you” first, no ifs, ands or buts.

❥ “i love you, ya know ?”

❥ is blushing the entire time he’s trying to get it out, but relaxes when he sees your grin

❥ refuses to “argue”, dude only has constructive conversations where the two of you find a solution

❥ “it’s us against the problem, babe. not us against each other. what’s going on ?”

❥ three quick pecks every time one of you asks for a kiss, sometimes more, but never less, and he will absolutely pout if you ever short him.

❥ “what was that ? give me a real kiss.”

❥ some nights when his energy is low, and his social battery is almost completely gone, he’ll just lay with you with his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat.

❥ he’s a little snippy on bad days, but he always catches himself.

❥ “i’m sorry, love. i shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

❥ B A N T E R, he’s a shit, for sure

❥ “oh yeah ? wanna say that to my face ?” (think lori and noah from tiktok)

❥ on days where your body image is bad, he stops what he’s doing and takes the time to just hold you, and reassure you that your body is beautiful.

❥ “look at me, hey. i love you, every single part of you.”

❥ star gazing dates, midnight drives to nowhere, movie nights in the living room, nights where the two of you just stare at the ceiling and enjoy each other’s company.

❥ “penny for your thoughts ?” “what are you thinkin’ about over there ?” “what’s on your mind, beautiful ?”

❥ never shies away from mentioning you on the podcast/in videos.

❥ “oh my god, my girlfriend loves that.” “holy shit, me and y/n were just talking about this !”

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo