#i got tag so now I tag friends and random people who's tags I remember

[flamingpudding]

Thanks for the Tag! @skylernightmare

btw... love your list. Also was't sure if I should have done a Reblog or just a post like you... i went with the later...

Shuffle your on repeat playlist and listen to the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people

1. LEveL by TOMORROW X TOGETHER

2. Anti-Clockwise by After the Rain [Soraru & Mafumafu]

3. Roleplaying Game (RPG) by SoraMafuUraSaka [Soraru, MafuMafu, Uratanuki, Sakata]

4. Kill the Lights by Set It Off

5. Shinunoga E-Wa [Eng Cover] by Will Stetson

6. Monster by YOASOBI

7. Song of the Lamb by JT Music, Andrea Storm Kaden

8. Loser, Baby by Andrew Underberg, Sam Haft, Keith David, Blake Roman

9. The Other self by GRANRODEO

10. Fleeting Lullaby by ADO

No judgment here XD my playlist can have the most random songs.... and sometimes I have a random taste in songs... I went with my monster of a playlist also... and I kept adding to that one for years now....

@escelia @phantom00maverick @phantom088 @villainmirabelmadriga @starlightcat04 @mkarchin713 @bianca-hooks123 @metalotaku-da @ravenr22 @gaddaboutgriffon

[nanivinsmoke]

Picture Perfect

just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .

toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader

we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?

summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.

warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…

“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.

“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.

you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.

you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.

the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.

as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.

“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.

sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.

he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.

“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.

his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.

your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu��s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.

“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.

your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.

you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.

“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.

shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.

you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.

while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.

“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.

you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.

the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.

and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.

“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.

a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.

you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.

you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.

shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it again”

“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”

you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.

“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.

“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.

you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.

“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”

and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.

[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (Matthew sturniolo)

a/n - first story in a while!!

I grew up in Boston, Massachusetts, and I've dreamed about college ever since I could remember. Going to Umass was my goal because my grades weren't excellent, but they weren't bad. I had gotten accepted halfway through my senior year, along with about four other people from my high school. Chris Sturniolo was the first one to get accepted, second was me, third was some girl from my statistics class, and lastly was Matthew Sturniolo. I didn't mind Chris or Nick much. I was never best friends with any of them, but those two were fabulous. Matthew, on the other hand, was a total dickface.

Matthew Sturniolo, captain of the hockey team, disliked me because I got their practices on the ice cut down to two days of the week so my ice skating league could have the ice the other two days of the week, and the boys had it a third day for the games. It wasn't my fault, but my team needed to practice for our meetings on the weekend. Ever since that day in our sophomore year, he has had something against me, giving me nasty looks and saying rude remarks; he even got me thrown out of a class and detention because the teacher wanted to suck him off once he had something against me.

Today was finally the move-in day for college, and my dad was driving down in his car to meet me at our dorms. After the two-hour drive, we finally arrived, and I hopped out of my car to grab my dorm keys. I was supposed to have a single this year, but they accepted too many students, and now I am placed with some random dude. I dont mind, though, because housing said it should all be sorted out within a week.

I walked up to my dorm, saw the door unlocked, and gave it a light knock before opening it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I said, seeing who was sitting on the bed opposite to mine

"No way. No. This has to be some sick joke." Matthew Sturniolo said as he stood off the bed

"This is my dorm. Get out." I said, waving the key in his face

"Your dorm? Check again, princess. My name's already on the door." He pushed past me, pointing to his name tag outside the door

I march to the door and check the name tags. "No, no, no. This has to be a mistake. There's no way they'd stick us in the same room." I threw my bag down on the bed, holding my head. "I'll fix this." I pull out my phone to call housing

"Oh, please do. I'd love to see how fast they laugh at you. Housing is already maxed out." Matt said, leaning against his bed

'What are you talking about?" I looked back at him

"Everyone's been complaining about the overcrowding. I heard someone's living in a storage closet in South Hall. You're stuck with me." He smirked at me

"This can't be happening," I said before storming out of the dorm to find my father with my other stuff. I knew I could do nothing about this, considering I already knew housing was dead and gone to me. My father and I carried my things up to the second floor. My dad liked the sturniolos because he and his father worked together when they were younger.

"Matthew!" My dad said, opening up the door. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "You gonna take care of my daughter this year!" He said as Matt got up to shake my father's hand

"Of course, Mr. y/l/n." They shook hands, and my dad turned back toward me.

"Do you want me to stay and help, or do you want to do this alone?" he asked, knowing I would much rather do things alone. Ever since my mom left, I've learned to be independent.

"I want to set it up; thank you so much, Dad," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. He hugged me back before kissing my forehead and turning towards Matt.

"I mean, it is safe, both of you," He pointed between us.

"I love you, Dad!" I yelled while he walked out

"Love you, honey." My dad closed the door behind him, and I turned toward all of my boxes, sighing

"Do you—" Matt started to talk before the door knocked; he turned and walked to open the door.

"Matt, you left your charger in my—" Chris walked in and stopped when he saw me. "Wait a second. What's she doing here?"

"I have the same question," I said, rolling my eyes as I opened one of my boxes.

"Chris. She's my roommate." Matt said in an annoyed voice

"No way. No freaking way." Chris said, bursting into laughter. I rolled my eyes again.

"This is perfect. You and Matt? Sharing a dorm? This is better than any sitcom." He continued laughing to himself

"Told you it's gold," Matt said, turning towards me.

"This isn't funny!" I said, looking up at them

"Oh, it's hilarious. You two can't even stand to be in the same room for five minutes, and now you're stuck here for a whole semester?"

"I'm calling housing," I say, grabbing my phone off the bed.

"Oh, sure. "Hi, housing? Can you please move me because I hate my roommate's face?" Yeah, good luck with that." Chris said

"Admit it. You're a little jealous you don't get to live here." Matt winked at Chris

"Hmm. Sharing a room with y/n and listening to you two argue 24/7? She's hot, but No, I'll stick with my roommate. He's chill." I rolled my eyes at him as he placed Matt's charger heading towards the door. "Well, this will be a fun semester—for me, anyway. I'm going to stop by every day to watch the chaos."

"Open invitation, bro," Matt said. I huffed and started unpacking my boxes, regretting not asking my dad to stay and help. "Do you want some help? I may not like you, but you'll need it." I contemplated for a minute before deciding it would be easier to accept.

"If you could please." He nodded, grabbed one of the boxes, and got to work.

After three hours, we finished decorating and unpacking all of my items. "Thank you for helping; I need to go shower," I said, grabbing a towel and heading towards our bathroom.

"Ya, there's a party tonight in the hockey house. You can go with Chris he said" Matt said, keeping his gaze on his phone.

"Send me Chris' number, and I'll talk to him." I said, walking towards the bathroom, "What's your number? We are living together anyways." I gave him my number and walked into the bathroom. I started the shower, turned on the Christmas lights, and provided the bathroom with more obedience. I took a half-hour shower and changed into some sweats and a tank top, walked out of the bathroom, and grabbed my phone to see a text from Matt and my best friend, Morgan. I quickly texted Chris, saying it was me, and texted Morgan back, telling her about the roommate situation.

"Wow, you've been standing in the same spot for seven minutes; you're zoned out on your phone," Matt said, interrupting my text conversation with Morgan.

"Sorry, I'm texting Morgan. Did you need something?" I asked, putting my phone on my desk, which I turned into a vanity.

"Morgans pretty hot. Is she ever going to come to visit?" He said, putting his arms behind his head

"If you ever even tried, I'd kill you," I said in a deadly serious tone; he threw his arms up in defense.

"I was just telling you I'm going to the hockey house, dont wait up," He said as he walked out the door.

I sat down in my vanity chair, contemplating the situation I was in when I heard my phone start buzzing.

"Hello?" I said, picking up Chris' phone call

"What are you doing?" He said

"I am going to start getting ready?" I told more of a question

"Great, I'll be there in a minute." He hung up the phone before I could object. After a literal minute, I heard a knock on my door. "Come in!" I yelled. Chris walked in, wearing a black Harley-Davidson shirt, baggy jeans, and a black beanie. "Hey," I said, returning to my mirror and brushing my hair.

"Are you going to the party with me tonight?" he asked as he lay on my bed; I nodded yes. I couldn't lie. He looked hot. "Great, we are leaving in an hour." I checked my clock, seeing it was already nine. I hadn't eaten all day, so if I even attempted to drink at this party, I would be hammered.

"That sounds good. Can you play some music?" I asked because I needed to charge my phone. I got up from my vanity as 'She' by Frank Ocean and Tyler, the creator, started playing; I was happy with Chris' choice of music. I walked to my dresser, grabbed my favorite pair of low-rise baggy jeans, and then went to my closet, pulling out a black-laced crop top. "I'm going to change," I told Chris, walking towards the bathroom.

Once I was finally changed, I left the bathroom, and Chris looked up from his phone. "I'll have to watch you around all those hockey players." I laughed at his remark and sat down at my vanity, doing my mascara. I never really learned how to do makeup properly, and after my mom left and was raised by my dad, I never got into it.

After 40 minutes of fixing myself, I was finally ready. "Alright, let go," I said, slipping on my Converse. Chris exited the bed, slipped on his shoes, and walked towards the door with me. "Do you want a coat? We are walking there; it's a ten-minute walk down the road, " he asked, looking me up and down.

"No, it's still seventy, but it'll be good." I grabbed my keys and walked out the door, holding it for Chris; I locked the door behind us and slipped my can of Zyns in my front pocket and my phone in my back pocket." Zyns, really?" he asked, looking down at me.

"Hey, I'm quitting vaping. They help when the nicotine craving gets bad." He shrugged, understanding where I was coming from

"So I know nothing about you; tell me something about yourself," Chris asked as we walked out of our building

"There's not much really; I grew up with just my dad, playing sports and lived like I didn't have some big interesting life. how about you?" He shrugged

"Same thing, I grew up with both my parents, though." I laughed at his remark, and we walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence

"Are you drinking tonight?" He asked, stopping me on the porch of the house

"I think so, why?" I was confused about why he was asking

"I'm just going to smoke then; better to be safe than sorry," I admired him, wanting to keep me safe. He opened the door, and I was immediately hit with the smell of weed and liquor. I huffed it in and started going through the house while Chris held onto my belt loop; I entered the kitchen, and Matt was talking to some blonde girl.

"Hey, Matty!" I said, putting my hands on his shoulders. He turned around to see Chris and me. He returned to the girl and told her he'd see her later. She seemed a little butt-hurt about it and stomped away.

"You actually look presentable," Matt said in a sarcastic tone, which caused me to take in his appearance. He was wearing a plain black tee showing off his sleeve of tattoos I'd never noticed before and a pair of jeans. He also looked pretty good.

"Not too bad yourself, Matthew," I crossed my arms. "Where are the drinks?" I asked, looking around

"Come on," he said, walking towards the fridge. "Twisted, ice, or a mixed drink?" he asked, looking back at me; I contemplated for a minute before seeing a bunch of people taking shots

"An ice, please. It's the best chaser," I said, grabbing it from his hand and walking towards the people taking shots. Matt and Chris followed behind.

"Everyone, this is my roommate, y/n." A group of guys who I guess are on the hockey team with Matt turned towards me and said some heys and hi's

"Can I get one, please?" I said, and one of them handed me a green kinky. "I, Steven," he said. "I y/n. Nice to meet you." I opened the nip and cheered it with his before taking it back and following it with my Smirnoff.

After an hour of taking shots and mingling with Matt and Chris' friends from the team, Matt and Chris decided it was time to smoke. I was already drunk, so I was ready to take a break. "This way," Matt said, leading Chris and me down the stairs. I guess this was more for me because Chris had been there before. I grabbed my Zyns and put one in to get a good headrush as we made our way to a toke circle. I sat next to Chris with Matt on his other side; he's been friendly with me tonight, so hopefully, it stays like that.

We sat in the basement talking nonsense for I dont even know how long, considering I was highly drunk as the time went on. "Can we go get food, please!" I said to the two boys, Matt looked down at his phone, and I saw it was already one am. "Yeah, let's go," Matt said, standing with Chris. I felt a little dizzy, so I grabbed Chris's belt loop as he did to me earlier, following them out of the house.

"Mcdonalds is the only thing open, so that's what you're getting," Matt said as we headed towards his car

"Fine by me, sir! " I said, climbing into the backseat. I decided it was easier to lie down, which caused me to fall asleep.

[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

[pretzel-box]

Of course! I’m talking about the Swap Au, Where Sebastian is Human while we, the reader, are the monster <3

Sea Mother Anon

And thank you dearly for the compliment!

Tags: Easily annoyed & Rarely Annoyed trope, established relationship, reversed au, Berry is just a random dude that will show up for the sake of the plot.

Words: 1k

It had been a while since Sebastian first set foot into this miserable facility. He had quickly learned that there was no rushing through it on his search for the crystal—no surviving without the proper preparation. And on his search for supplies, he learned that his only true ally would be you.

You were the funny, laid-back shopkeeper who somehow always had the right tools and gadgets he needed to keep himself alive. Sebastian still remembers his first trade with you when you’d taken the jacket off your back in exchange for a simple smile and some assets. Then, there was the time you saved his life from that rogue Pandemonium encounter that had snuck up behind him while he was examining a shelf. He had been grateful then, but now, after so many more interactions, you two had started dating. It had been unexpected, something of a surprise for both of you, but it seemed to work, despite all the bizarre situations you found yourselves in down here.

Today was just another day in the shop. You were leaning against a table with that usual, easygoing smile on your face. Sebastian stood beside you, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, his eyes always on the lookout for any potential threats—or annoyances.

The little bell above the shop door that you found a while ago, jingled, and in stumbled Berry, one of the many expandables who often found their way to your shop. Berry was a peculiar fellow, clumsy and confused most of the time, with a permanent dazed expression on his face. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he seemed to be perpetually dirty, as if he hadn’t washed in weeks. Sebastian immediately tensed. Of all the people who could walk through the door, it had to be Berry.

“Is 100 much?” Berry asked, blinking up at you with wide, innocent eyes. He was holding a handful of broken flashlight parts, and he looked genuinely bewildered.

Sebastian sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Berry was one of those customers who just got under his skin. Confused, clumsy, and somehow miraculously still alive. Sebastian often wondered how someone like Berry had managed to survive in this place. The guy was as clueless as they came.

You, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed by Berry's presence. You were used to dealing with his type. With a delighted blink, you smiled at him. “100 deaths are” you said in a cheerful tone. Berry’s face scrunched up in confusion, his eyes darting between you and the pile of flashlight parts. “100 deaths?” he repeated, looking more confused than ever.

You nodded, your smile never faltering. “Yep! You’ve got about 100 deaths' worth of useless junk there, my friend.”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer. “Buy something or get lost,” he groaned at Berry, his tone exasperated. He crossed his arms tighter, his posture stiffening with irritation. It was always like this with Berry—he would come in, waste everyone’s time with his inane questions, and then leave without buying anything.

Berry, oblivious as ever, blinked a few more times before finally seeming to understand what Sebastian had said. “Oh, um, right. I guess I’ll…just look around then,” he mumbled, shuffling away to browse through a stack of dented cans on a nearby shelf.

You chuckled softly, casting a sideways glance at Sebastian. “You know, you could be a little nicer,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

Sebastian snorted, rolling his eyes. “Why? He’s an idiot. He’s been in here a dozen times and still doesn’t know how this place works.”

“Not everyone is as sharp as you,” you replied, reaching over to give Sebastian’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Besides, it’s kind of endearing. In a weird way.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes again, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “You have a weird definition of ‘endearing,’ you know that?”

You grinned. “I have to, dating you.”

Berry’s clumsy fumbling brought their attention back to him. He had somehow managed to knock over an entire shelf of items, sending cans and trinkets clattering to the floor. He looked up, eyes wide with panic, as if he’d just set off a bomb.

“Oops…” Berry muttered, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled the rust on the metal shelves.

Sebastian groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Great. Just great.”

You laughed, patting Sebastian’s arm. “It’s fine, really. I’ll handle it.” You moved around the table and began helping Berry pick up the fallen items, your demeanor calm and patient. “Don’t worry about it, Berry,” you said soothingly. “These things happen.”

Berry’s face lit up with a grateful smile. “Thanks. You’re always so nice.”

Sebastian watched the scene unfold, his annoyance slowly fading away. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but admire the way you handled things. No matter how chaotic or frustrating things got, you always managed to stay calm and collected. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

After the mess was cleaned up, Berry finally decided on a couple of items and paid for them, waving awkwardly as he stumbled back out of the shop. As soon as the door closed behind him, Sebastian let out a long sigh of relief.

“Thank god,” he muttered. “I thought he’d never leave.”

You chuckled, leaning back against the table beside him. “He’s harmless,” you said, nudging him playfully. “You don’t always have to be so grumpy, you know.”

Sebastian gave you a sideways glance, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He reached out and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Despite his gruff exterior, Sebastian had a soft spot for you—a side he rarely showed to anyone else.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his embrace. “Always,” you replied softly. “After all, someone has to keep you in check.”

Sebastian chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “Guess I’m lucky to have you, then.”

“Damn right,” you teased, poking his side playfully.

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒.

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: You are studying the one and only US President John F. Kennedy for your dual-title doctorate at Harvard University in 1963. Upon growing closer to the president, you happen to meet one of his Harvard friends, Coriolanus Snow, who is campaigning for the 1964 Election. You're both brought closer as time passes, and your life changes forever. As the 1964 Election continues and political tensions escalate, you come together. With the help of you, the Kennedys, and his charming wit and cleverness, Coriolanus Snow ends up with all he's ever wanted. However, the ever-growing Women's Revolution puts everything and everyone at risk. What Coriolanus doesn't know is that politics is all a game-

But there are worse games to play.

⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ word count: 269 (not including quote.) ⊹ author’s note: eeeee here's the prologue! I'm so excited to share this idea with you all. it was just a random fic idea I had and I didn't think it would snowball in my imagination the way it did, yet here we are lol. please be sure to check out the soundtrack and if you want to be tagged with every chapter, please fill out the form. I have both the soundtrack and taglist form below for you to click. much love!! ♡

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅ�� ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

❝And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult – we were faced with more challenges. I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning. He was charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knew it. When he walked in, every woman's head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And in that way, I understood him, and I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And I still love him. I love him.❞ — Lana Del Rey, Spoken Monologue, National Anthem

“Go on, sweetheart,” Coriolanus mumbles, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, “Wave to the people. They love it, they love you.”

You stare at Coriolanus for a moment in absolute awe as he basks in the glow of attention from the crowd. At this moment, he’s electric and powerful. You couldn’t be more proud of him for it. The two of you are in a brightly colored motorcade, slowly cruising through downtown Boston in celebration. Your husband effortlessly smiles in glory, his eyes twinkling in unbridled emotion- a rare sight to see from him. Coriolanus has his moments, but not like this. His blue eyes are usually cold, distant, and emotionless unless looking directly at you. Despite the lack of obvious light, you can still see it. It’s one thing Coriolanus admires about you; that you can see past his demeanor. The last time you remember him looking so full of pride, though, was the day you married one another.

It’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that he succeeded at this- and you succeeded at this, too. Perhaps even harder to grasp that millions of people around the world now know your name and care about what you have to say. As Coriolanus said himself, the people love you. Sure, having the people on your side just as they are his matters to you. But at the end of the day, the only thing that matters for certain is if he truly loves you like he loves power. Sometimes you aren’t so sure. Sometimes, he looks at you, and you can’t see a thing.

౨ৎ taglist:

@nilletellsstories @noyatv @moonlightstuffs @slytherinholland @dominqueeekk @allcheesemelts @coconut-dreamz @rosewine-5 @hsfallingsky @imasimptoowth @tatumrileyslover @murdocksdaughter @fauxraven @throughgoeshxmilton @thesullengrrrl @fanfictionismyromanempire @americanprometheuss @prettycove

[modanisgf]

016. MANIAC (WRITTEN)

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‘this was a mistake.’ was all that ran through hanni’s mind as she continued to sit in some random persons house, her friends next to her laughing their asses off.

she wasn’t sure how they had managed to convince her to tag along to this, hanni hated parties the thought of them making her gag. who wanted to sit around and get drunk with a bunch of people you don’t know?

the only people in their group sober were haerin and hanni, haerin occupying herself with danielle leaving hanni alone. with her thoughts of course, the worst time in her life for her to be overthinking.

to give more context one of matthew’s members decided to throw a party for his birthday, not notifying the friend group until a bit after their personal party had ended. hanni remembered it well, too well even as if it wasn’t hours ago now.

the group was sitting on minji’s couch, watching various movies when matthew got a call.

“hey ricky what’s up?” he said, his expression noticeably changing once ricky spoke.

“and you didn’t tell me until now? i’m already busy—“

“matthew half of the industry is going to be there, can’t you just continue your little hangout tomorrow?” ricky said loudly, allowing the whole group to hear.

matthew sighed in irritation, “fine but next time don’t tell me twenty minutes before.”

matthew hang up the phone after that, before turning to everyone.

“so basically ricky decided to throw me a party and not tell me about it, so now he wants me to be there in like twenty minutes.” matthew explains, confusion being left on everyone but gunwook’s face.

“we’re actually going? i mean, how far away is the venue?” minji asks.

“fifteen minutes..” matthew mumbles.

“bro we don’t have time for this, speak up.” gunwook chimes in.

“fifteen minutes?”

“are you serious?!”

yet they still ended up at the venue on time (ricky’s rich cousin’s house ?), much to hanni’s dismay. she never really explicitly stated she wanted to go, but she knew her friends needed a supervisor just in case haerin got distracted.

the main thing hanni was concerned about though was you, she knew if danielle was here there was no way you weren’t and after your argument a couple days before— hanni wasn’t sure if she was ready to see your face again. you had being nothing less of a bitch to her that day, making sure she knew you didn’t care about her which hadn’t left her mind since.

hanni wanted nothing more than to get over her feelings for you, but even after all that happened she couldn’t truly say she hated you. sure what all you did was unnecessary, but behind everything you said you seemed hurt.

if you truly wanted to hurt her, why would you feel bad? hanni didn’t miss the build up of tears on your waterline as you argued, making her feel the slightest bit of sympathy for you.

but overall and to the public eye, she wanted nothing to do with you. so hanni made it her mission to keep away from you at this party. and her mission ended now, your kuromi bag entering her sight causing her heart to drop. at this point the only person by hanni's side was haerin but she was too busy in conversation with danielle to save her.

you were presumably walking over there to collect danielle, sunoo trailing behind you. sunoo looked hanni in the eyes, the eye contact becoming uncomfortable as he glared at her. obviously sunoo didn't know the full story, of course you wouldn't let your friends in on how horrible you were to hanni.

you and sunoo seemed to be in slow motion in hanni's eyes, every step closer making her more anxious. she fought the urge to nudge haerin, realizing it would only make her closer to you the exact opposite of her goal at the moment.

the two of you made eye contact, the sharp look on hanni’s face making you sad. she seemed like she was doing well without you, unfortunately.

“danielle, our ride is here.” you say, noticing her perk up.

“oh okay, bye haerin!” dani waved to the girl, haerin waving back.

sunoo and danielle quickly walked away, but hanni noticed you linger a bit longer before picking up your feet and trying to catch up with your friends.

haerin raised a eyebrow at the way hanni eyes stayed fixed on where you once were. hanni wasn’t getting over you anytime soon, it was obvious to anyone at this point.

“hanni.” haerin called out to her.

“yes?”

“you need to get over her.”

a silent pause between the two proved haerin’s point, the latter sighing.

“i’m being serious, she’s destroying you.” haerin says.

“what are you gonna do once your off hiatus? aren’t you set for a tour later this year once your albums out?” haerin asks.

“i don’t know haerin, all my shits pushed back now.” hanni says, relaxing against the counter behind her.

“might not even get off of hiatus.” hanni says quietly, but loud enough for haerin to hear.

“don’t say that.” haerin warns, “hybe wouldn’t give you up.”

“are you sure? it seems like they already have.” hanni starts.

“it’s been forever now haerin.”

“hanni…”

“no don’t even say anything else, i’m just gonna get out of here i can’t do it anymore.” hanni says, grabbing her stuff.

“watch the others and tell matthew i said happy birthday and something came up.” hanni says, to which haerin nods.

haerin wasn’t going to fight with her anymore, they both knew well what was probably going to happen to hanni’s career.

haerin just wanted to keep postive.

hanni had no clue what she was thinking when she left that party. she had no ride, no hoodie to at least somewhat hide her appearance, and it was pouring rain outside.

hanni couldn’t break down out here, there was no telling if any paparazzi were around and she was already in trouble. she didn’t know what she would do if a headline got out, would it even matter anymore?

so she just sat there, staring at the ground before hearing footsteps. a voice perked up, presumably speaking to her.

“hanni what the hell are you doing—“ a familiar voice said, concerned.

“yn?” hanni said looking up.

“shit, i was hoping you wouldn’t recognize my voice.” you say.

“i don’t get drunk ever y’know that, wait nono— get away from me what did i tell you?!” hanni says in a panic.

“hanni, it’s late at night and it’s raining like crazy. can you at least let me take you home?” you say, to which she shakes her head no.

“i’ll wait for my friends.” hanni says, stubbornly.

“you can’t be serious.” you mumble, hanni not missing it.

“okay fine..” hanni says, she knew you didn’t have bad intentions.

“just don’t tell anyone, okay?” hanni warns.

“i won’t don’t worry, my friends are gone already anyways.” you say.

“then why are you still here?”

“i had a feeling.”

“what?”

“i had a feeling you would want to leave early.” you mumble.

“how did you have a feeling—“ hanni starts, getting cut off by you.

“okay maybe, i didn’t have a feeling.. i just knew, you don’t seem like the type to party.” you say, shaking your head.

you see hanni fight back her smile, making you laugh a bit.

“but anyways, here’s my car." you say, opening the passengers door for her.

"i have to sit next to you..?" she asks.

"okay." you sigh, you had done this to yourself obviously but it still hurt.

"get in the back then." you say closing the door, making your way over to the drivers.

“are you not gonna open it for me?”

“hanni.”

“okay sorry i’m getting in.”

the ride to hanni’s apartment building was silent, hanni on her phone the entire time ensuring haerin she found a ride home.

soon they reached hanni’s building and she got out.

“thank you.” hanni says, making you smile.

“anything for you.” you say quietly.

hanni walked off after, yn waiting to make sure she got inside safely before driving off. she knew hanni hated her bad, so the least she could do was keep her safe.

yn finally understood her feelings, she was in love with hanni pham.

TAGS 🏷️ (CLOSED): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @winieter @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet

[switchbladedreamz]

Door Number Three

Pairing: Ghostface x College!Student Reader, you guessed it, college au.

Requested?: no

Rating: R

Warnings/Tags: stalking (its ghostface), eventual smut

Summary: Y/n makes out with a random guy at a party. A week later someone in her class asks her out only to not show up. Who sent her the picture of herself?

please reblog and comment. Not only does it help blogs grow but it helps fanfiction grow and builds community <33

~~~~

Lively voices buzz all around me. Different types of conversations being held, how someone's day was going, what their parents said to them. Friends catching up, department faculty sitting with each other. The cafeteria is alive with chatter.

Standing at the end of the line, my hangover is thanking the universe that the line isn't that long. I recognize some of the faces in the line in front of me from the party last night. Dozens of drunken flashbacks play in my head all at once like a burst of ink on a page. My fingers ghost over my lips as one flashback in particular sticks out. My lips on some guy's neck. Did I make out with a total stranger? I try to focus my attention on recalling his face but..

"It's ready for ya" the cashier at the counter, her short brown hair is worn in a hairnet today, interrupts my internal investigation. I pull my I.D. out of my wallet and scan it in front of the small barcode scanner. I walk further into the cafeteria. My dry bloodshot eyes lock onto the familiar sight, the grill area. 'Fries. I need fries. French fries will fix me.'

It feels like my rumbling stomach is in charge of my feet as I stumbled a few steps forward, toward the plate stacks on a shelf beneath the dishes of food being served. After stacking my plate in golden, crisp, deliciousness I cross the cafeteria to the drink machine. I get my favorite soda and a seat at a table in the back half of the room, where there's less people. Natural light from the windows warms the tables surrounding them. My shorts do nothing to save me from the shock of the cold chair assaulting the backs of my thighs. Quickly I cross my left leg over the right to warm myself. The salt shaker on this table is almost empty, the remaining salt grains clang as the shaker is put back down to rest in front of me. My phone vibrates in my pocket. From the lock screen the notification is an image text from some random number. Assuming it's from a campaign or mailing list I forgot I signed up for, my thumb slides up my lock screen. Clicking on the text with the only subject being the word "image" in italics.

*bzzt bzzt*

"this u?"

Food gets caught in my throat, my chest instantly fills with air. My nose takes a deep breath in, the different smells mixing in the air. I take a deep drink to wash down the food I'm trying desperately not to choke and die on.

The picture that was sent is a selfie of the guy whose face I couldn't remember until now, myself, and our tongues down each other's throat. There's a mask pushed to the top of his head, sticking to his pale forehead with beads of sweat. Medium length black hair that's hidden behind the back of the mask. As far as his costume goes it's just black.. Well this just got either really creepy or really hot.

I respond. "Are you the guy in the photo?"

"so it is you"

"who are you?"

A grey box pops up into the chat with a loading circle in the middle. The grey fades to color, a girl sitting by self in front of a window, in a crowded room. Wearing a burgundy shirt and grey shorts, hunched over her plate and phone. I look down, its my clothes. That's me in the picture.. right now. My head shoots up, my eyes scanning everyone in the cafeteria. Their facial expressions, who is sitting in front of me, who they're sitting with, what tables are empty.

'Should I go to the police? Is this serious or is this a prank? I don't remember giving this guy my number..' Out of the corner of my eye, a small bubble with three bouncing dots appears above my keyboard. "See you soon bunny🫀🐇"

If this is a prank, I don't like it. And if it's not a prank... I refuse to let this fuck up my day right now, I have a test tomorrow I need to study for. Then I can move this morning on to the long list of things in the last 24 hours I can't or refuse to remember.

Promises, promises..

~~~~

My head hurts and my throat is so dry it feels like I swallowed sand. Every joint aches, my stomach is like a hornet's nest in a duffle bag that was dragged behind a truck. I wanted to skip class so bad, despite the fact that I got up, made myself get dressed and reminded myself that I studied hard the past few days, and I memorized the material well. I see no reason why I would do bad on this test. Also because I'll hate myself if my hard work isn't paid off. The test is over and I'm blissfully on my way to collapse in my bed, someone in hallway calls my name. I stop in the stairwell, turning to look behind me. He's medium height, a dark green shirt that rests over the grey sweat pants he's wearing. Lucky. My sweatpants are dirty. I don't remember where they sit but his voice is one I recognize as someone who sits behind me. He follows the crowd of people from the class room down the stairs although he stops in front of me. "Its uh Y/n? Right?"

"Yeah," Sticking my hand out in front of me, his large hand covers mine when he grasps it for a handshake. "I'm Wayne, I sit behind you. How did you think you did on the test?"

"I'm glad it was easy, I don't know if my brain could've handled one more four paragraph discussion over the same three things we discuss every class because this guy can't move on from the French Revolution." I shift my weight from foot to the next, turning my attention to Wayne.

"I know right? I checked the syllabus, we're supposed to be learning about the industrial era by now. I mean dude, come on." I chuckle at what he said, taking in his features. Tall with high cheek bones, a five o'clock shadow that frames his jaw nicely. Brown eyes, warm smile, long curly brown hair falls below his collarbone. He's cute.

"I've uh, always wanted to tell you, I like your style. The way you dress is really cool. Uh, maybe we could get to know each other over coffee sometime? We could talk about music, or books."

My face is hot and red, blood is rushing everywhere making everything warm and clammy. The one day I look and feel like shit is when I get asked out? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Does The Better Blend tomorrow at 2 work for you?" I nod dumbly, trying not to smile like an idiot. "Yes, it does. Uh im sorry but I've really gotta get goin, can I give you my snapchat real quick?"

~~~

It's 2:15 and Wayne is nowhere to be found. I text him and wait for a response.

3:00 pm, still nothing and he's leaving me on delivered.

9:00 pm. Dean Winchester is fighting vampires on my tv. Sam is somewhere out of frame getting his ass kicked.

"Ever hear back from the guy that stood you up?"

"Nope." popping the 'p'. I looked at my friend, Reggie, next to me, I called him over to do homework together and keep my mind off my shitty day.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it was for the best." My back is greeted by his big warm hand rubbing in circles. "Probably." I sigh. We work on homework together sitting on my bed for another hour. I stretch my arms up and out, my mouth gapes and I suck in air in a surprise yawn. "Wanna take a break and watch RuPaul's Drag Race?"

"Fuck yes." I giggle. The floor is cold as I stand to put mine and Reg's laptops on my desk. Crawling back in bed I switched from Netflix to Paramount +.

~~

1:15 am, I crawled in bed thirty minutes ago and I can't calm down enough to wind down. My heart feels all swirly. The nightstand next to me vibrates as my phone lights up. A text. Oh joy.

"poor bunny a little birdie told me you got stood up"

I groan, a soft thud sound echoes around my ears as my head deadweights with a whump into the pillow.

"what do you want dude"

"what do i want?"

"i want to play a little game called.."

"guess which room im in"

[whatwooshkai]

Lucky Number 7!

"Designation?"

"Chase."

Chase keeps his finials pinned flat against his helm, doorwings wide and fanned to keep the bot behind him from getting too close, which they have been for the past five minutes.

He has a vibroknife in his subspace. He'd rather not use it- you can only make a first impression once.

The femme flips through a datapad until her optics go wide. "Oh," she murmurs, the dangling jewelry from her finials making a loud ting! when they flatten to her helm. "Oh, you're one of those. Hang on."

Chase's optic twitches. He is normally very good at keeping his emotions in check, and no one who knows him has ever seen his temper, and that's the way he wants to keep it.

But if one more bot refers to him as "one of those" he's going to do something stupid.

Chase hates doing stupid things.

"Okay, I got you right here!" The femme gives him a sheepish smile as she hands over a pair of keycards. "There was an issue with organizing the dorms this year. Normally you'd be put with other bots in your track but you ended up in the randomized group, so you'll be staying with a few bots from other tracks. That's not a problem, is it?"

Chase's finials lift slightly away from his helm. "That is fine," he says, accepting the cards. That is... probably for the best, actually. "Thank you."

"No problem!" the femme says brightly. "So you're in room 704. Elevators are on your left. Next!"

Chase shuffles away from the table, readjusting the bag he has slung over his shoulder, eyeing the key cards in his hand.

Primus, when was the last time he met new people?

The elevator is blessedly empty when he steps inside, and so is the hallway as he follows it down to his room. Well, he was in one of the last groups to check in, so that's expected.

The door has four slots for name tags, as all of the ones in this hallway do. Only two have been filled in so far, for mechs "Boulder" and "Heatwave". Both have little drawings on them, one better than the other's. However, both seem to have identical handwriting... interesting.

So it seems only two have checked in. Maybe he'll have a choice of berth, then.

Chase swipes the key card and gently opens the door.

There's two sets of bunk berths, a desk in front and behind each one. None seem to have been claimed, but on the left, there's a bag tossed on the top bunk and a few posters plastered up already, and some blankets and pillows piled up. And on the left, there's a bag on the bottom bunk, and-

Oh. He's being glared at.

"Another one?" the mech mutters, green optics narrowed at Chase. He's orange a white, with a scar cutting down through one optic. He looks about Chase's age. "'Oh, we'll get you your own room, Blades'! my aft. Mechs walking in every five minutes," he huffs.

Chase frowns. "The attitude is hardly appropriate," he says, and the mech's optics suddenly go wide, as if he thought Chase couldn't hear him.

He mutters something unintelligible and then turns over on his side, revealing a pair of rotors. A flight frame, then.

Blades. His name wasn't on the door.

Chase looks around at the other bags. So his choice has been made for him, then. As usual.

He sets his bag down on the berth to the left, projecting his calendar up on the wall. And then he sits.

He's not really sure what to do now. Conversation is not really an option, what with the less-than-warm welcome, and he has no need to explore the city he grew up in.

Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. He mostly grew up in various facilities around the city, but he spent enough time out on the streets to know it.

Besides… he’d really rather not risk running into his batch. Not alone, at least.

Even though his coding cries for them, his frame hurts without them, he couldn’t get out of berth for several days after they were officially separated-

He’s better now. He has to be better.

He’s never had to try and make new friends. He’s never had to make friends, period. Chase can’t remember the last time he met someone new before this week.

But it can’t be that hard, can it? Sure, this Blades is… hostile… but maybe the others are a little more friendly!

Speaking of- someone decides to kick the door open at that very moment.

Blades looks up, and slight relief teeks through his field as he lies back down. So one of the mechs on the door, then.

Heatwave, he imagines- only because the mech is hot.

He stops a few feet from Chase once he lays optics on him, but Chase can feel the heat he gives off from here. That has to be unnatural, surely. Even Ultra Magnus, the largest mech he’s ever met, did not give off that much heat.

Beyond the odd temperature, the mech looks friendly enough. He’s red, with bright and warm yellow optics, and twin scars cutting up one cheek. In his arms are a plethora of cubes and energon sweets, several shoved in his mouth as well.

He mumbles something Chase can’t make out around the food in his mouth, then tosses a cube at Blades. The flight frame mutters some kind of thanks, and the mech turns back to Chase.

He shuffles his items into one arm and offers a hand to Chase. He once again speaks, presumably introducing himself, but Chase can’t understand a word he says.

He takes his hand and shakes it. “You really shouldn’t speak with your mouth full,” he says.

Yellow optics narrow at him. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he snaps. There’s a thick accent there that the universal translator is doing its best to suppress. “I asked for your name.”

Chase’s doorwings flick and the mech’s optics only follow them for a second before training on Chase’s face again. “Chase,” he says. “I will have to ask you for yours again, I did not understand you. Also, please let go of my hand.”

“Heatwave.” A correct guess, then. Chase’s doorwings raise slightly, but Heatwave’s gaze doesn’t shift to them again. Instead, he keeps his optics trained on Chase’s face, who looks away from the optic contact. He does release Chase’s hand, though. “You should check out the mess hall,” he says, moving his quarry back to both arms. “Never seen so much fuel in my life.”

Chase watches him in mild fascination as he figures out how to climb the ladder of the bunk without dropping any of the cubes, and from there Chase can’t see what he does with them.

So he’s expected to go collect his own ration. Good to know.

…He should be trying to make more conversation, right? Blades might be a lost cause but Heatwave at least introduced himself.

He just… doesn’t know what to do from here. Should he ask what track Heatwave is in? He can guess, from the paint job, but would Heatwave even entertain that? He’s sure he knows what Chase is here for, and has thankfully not said anything derogatory about it… yet.

It’s not wrong to expect it to happen eventually, right?

Then he realizes something. “Where are the washracks?”

Heatwave leans out over the top of the bunk. “Hallway.”

Chase frowns. “Why?”

“What, never been in a communal wash rack before?” Heatwave asks, an oddly aggressive tone to his voice. “This ain’t no prissy enforcer academy, Chase. You’ll hafta get used to other mechs in your space.”

Oh, that accent is really coming out now. Chase wishes he could place it. “It is not a problem,” he growls, though it is… not ideal. The idea of sharing washracks with anyone other than his batch makes his plating crawl. He doesn’t appreciate the attitude, though.

“Whatever you say.” Heatwave leans back.

Okay. So far, his roommates are violently antisocial and rude. Wonderful.

It is now that the fourth roommate decides to show themselves, and Chase braces himself for the worst.

They gently push the door open, holding a datapad. They’re green and far more heavyset than any of the others, though Heatwave comes close. Blue optics widen at him. “Hello,” they say, in very thickly accented Common.

No universal translator, then. Interesting.

“Hello,” Chase says back, offering his hand. “Chase.”

“Boulder.” So that’s all four. Good. “I am… stop by for my datapad. Good to meet you.”

“And you.” Primus almighty, Chase wishes he’d met someone who wasn’t Iaconian before today, because all these new accents, and he can’t place a single one. Maybe if he knew what their mother language is, he could speak to them better? “If you speak in your native language, I can still understand it,” Chase says, tapping his throat.

“I know,” Boulder says. “But I like to make the effort.”

“Okay.”

Boulder turns away from him and grabs the datapad from their bag, before offering everyone a wave and leaving again.

Chase sits down on his berth again. Boulder seems nice.

…This might not be so bad.

[lovechar]

A Tender Touch.

pairing; James Farrow x Stirling!Reader

summary; after you get injured, james helps clean you up.

warnings; friends to lovers, violence, making out, grinding, fluff

notes; fem!reader but can be read as other, since the start, callum turner had been my main fancast for james idk why, i know james sleeps in the tower but shh, idk if anyone will even read this there’s like no iwwv x reader stuff, not much dialogue, no use of y/n, wouldn’t rly say any spoilers

As always, Richard got different, when he’d start drinking. He was always violent, since childhood, even—you remember back to when he’d accidentally hit you too hard with a pillow or shove you too hard playing tag. But the real violence, the real Richard, came out when he was blackout drunk, unaware of his actions and their consequences in the later moments.

Being his sister, you always tended to keep an eye out for him at parties, sipping slowly at your drink in an attempt to not get drunk and keep a clear mind. Occasionally, you’d let go and enjoy yourself, but the one time every couple months where he drank too much made you constantly paranoid.

You poured yourself another drink from one of the many bottles that stood shoulder-to-shoulder on your kitchen countertop. “Hey,” a slightly deep voice rung out from behind me. You turned, pressing you back against the counter. “Hi. Where are the others?” You smiled at James. He stood beside you, looking over with a fond grin till his attention turned to the drink selection. “Don’t know. We all split off and now the only one I can find is you.” He poured himself a drink as he replied; vodka with some random mixer he found.

You sipped slowly at your drink—feeling a slight burn slide past your throat—as you watched the on-goers of the party. James turned back from the counter and leaned against it beside you, mimicking your position. The both of you watched as people chattered, drank and slowly swayed to the music. You could feel the buzz from the alcohol taking its time to kick in.

Talk filled the air till it slowly was hushed and replaced by shouting from outside the Castle. With furrowed eyebrows, you looked up to James and he looked down on you with a similar, confused expression. His hand slid into yours as you tugged him along, heading for the door.

Once you reached the soft garden grass, the chilled breeze attacked you in every place your navy dress hadn’t adorned, bringing goosebumps along your arms and legs. There was a crowd circled around the center of the yard. James moved ahead of you, pushing through the crowd and dragging you along till you both reached the front. “Come on, Oliver. Man to man, let’s see who gets her.” Richard was yelling at Oliver, inching forward while the smaller boy crept backwards with each step. Meredith, who you assumed Richard was getting thick over, stood slightly further back in the middle, watching them and screaming at Richard to leave Oliver alone.

Your jaw hung slightly as Richard shoved Oliver who was obviously fidgeting to apologise and attempt to calm Richard down. On impulse, you discarded James’s hand from yours, running over to Richard and pushing him away from Oliver slightly.

“Rich, what the fuck are you doing?” Your tone was harsh and stern—as if you were taking the place of your mother. His gaze turned to you and he snarled, “get out of my way. This has nothing to do with you.” His breath reeked of liquor. “You’re drunk, stop this now, you’ll regret it in the morning.”

A small thwack sounded out; a stinging feeling humming in your cheek and you stumbled back a bit, eyes looking up to glare at Richard. He had slapped you with the back of his hand. He never hit you before and you were left with a shocked expression, not fully realising what he just did.

Your cheek felt strange so you reached your hand up to feel it, being met with a crimson liquid dripping into your fingers. The ring that embellished your brother’s finger had made such impact, it had split your cheek. An iron-like taste lingered on your tongue but you ignored it as Richard wasted no time after the hit.

“You wanna get involved, huh?” The cruelty of his sardonic intonation brought an unease in your chest. A wicked grin was plastered across his face and you knew you weren’t looking at your brother in this moment—more of a dark shadow that cast over him like a dull cloud. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do.” He shoved you again, this time hard enough to make you fall back.

From the corner of your eye, you saw James spring forward towards you as you made impact with the ground, a sharp pain slicing through the back of your calf. Your leg had landed on a jagged rock, carving a narrow cut through your calf.

Two arms hooked under your arms from behind, lifting you up; you looked behind to see who it was, just to be met with James’s soft stare. You stood up on your feet, the cut on your leg throbbing gently. Richard’s gaze burned into you but you avoided it like the plague, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you upset, although you knew he would feel guilty throughout his hangover the next morning. That didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

During this whole encounter, you had completely forgot that there was a crowd around you all watching and your cheeks grew hot as tears pricked your eyes. You crossed your arms over each other. The humiliation kicked in as people watched you walk back inside, James hot on your tail, holding both your forearms and guiding you through the people. The party was now filled with tension and you noticed people starting to leave.

James led you upstairs and you followed him aimlessly. He brought you into the bathroom, lifting you tenderly by the waist to sit on the counter next to the sink. You focused on levelling your breathing but all you could think about was the fact that Richard had actually hit you, and in front of all those strangers too.

“Hey, you okay?” James spoke delicately as he searched through the cabinet beneath you. He pulled out a cloth and a couple bandages and some gauze. “I’m ok.” His careful fingers wrapped around the damaged leg, lifting it up slightly to take a look at the cut. “‘s it okay if I clean this?” His eyes gleamed up at you, waiting for an answer; you just nodded silently.

James moved over to the sink, dampening the cloth with cold water before bringing it to your leg. He carefully cleared the blood from your leg, handling you as if you were porcelain. The wet pat against your calf stung, and you pulled your bottom lip under your teeth, trying to ignore the light sting.

Once he was done cleansing the wound, he moved back to the sink, grabbing the gauze. You turned your head behind you to take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was slightly ruffled and your bottom lip graced a red slit, the blood starting to crackle and dry. Unintentionally, you licked your lips to moisturise them and tasted the metallic flavour of blood.

James still stood at the sink and your eyes flickered over to him. He’s gorgeous, you thought, then tried to shake away your thoughts. The awareness of being half-drunk made you convince yourself that you were just being affectionate and flirty with everyone, and James just happened to be the only one in the room.

You ripped your view away from the mirror and looked to the ground tiles. The silence in the room wasn’t tense, and you felt as if you could relax in it. As James came back to stand in front of you, he started to wrap the gauze tightly around your calf and your head fell back against the mirror, eyes closing and lips parting into a sigh.

It didn’t take long for him to bandage the cut. Your eyes flitted open and you were met with him standing infront of you, looking at your face. He steadily brought his hand—which gripped the wet cloth—up to your cheek, smoothly wiping the small gash from Richard’s ring.

His hand lingered, even when the slice was washed out, and your eyes couldn’t tear away from each other. If your legs hadn’t been stretched out from sitting on the counter, forcing him to maintain a distance, you mulled over how far from your face he really would be. The eye contact drew on—aside from the broken moments where you strained from the temptation of looking at his plump lips but failed—, the silence turning to a deafening tension. You hauled your eyes from his, moving your face to glance at your lap and clearing your throat.

“We should get you to bed,” he said. You could hear the stiffness in his voice, as if he was forcing himself to break the silence. “Yeah,” you replied. James wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you down from the counter. It seemed he was reluctant to let you go, only sliding his hands off when you moved to the door.

The mahogany knob turned and you both stepped out from the bathroom. Your body felt exhausted but your brain still buzzed happily from your previous few drinks. “Do you want me to take you up to the tower?” James’s voice was quiet although there wasn’t anyone in the hall. Oliver and you both stayed up in the tower, while everyone else’s bedrooms were scattered around the Castle.

“‘m too tired to go up there, can I stay with you?” Your question had caught him off guard and you pulled back a smirk upon seeing the strawberry blush hinted across his cheeks. “Yeah . . sure, of course.” He held onto your hand as you headed down the hall to his room. Pushing the door open, James led you inside his room. Your eyes darted around—as if it were your first time in here.

The warmth from his hand faded as he let go and went to sit on the small couch he had in the middle of the room. You followed, taking a seat beside him, maybe too close. You sat, one leg dangling off the couch; the other, bent at the knee and tucked under you. James’s arms were stretched out, resting on the channel back of the sofa.

“Thanks,” you murmured out, looking over into his eyes; they looked blue from afar, but really they were silvery-gray, even with a hint of gold-hazel splatted through them. You could see yourself in the reflection. He didn’t say anything, just gazed back at you with a longing look etched into his features.

James really was beautiful. You’d always known it, just never really had time to dwell on it. But now you felt like you had all the time in the world and couldn’t help keeping your eyes from flickering between his and his lips. It was as if you were contemplating which were more endearing, and right now his lips were in the lead. The heat in your cheeks tingled and you silently wished he couldn’t see your blush in the darkness.

Even if he did register your blush, he didn’t make it known to you. He did, however, seem to notice your quivering gaze. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining it, or if he really was leaning closer, but you subconsciously mirrored him. The tension and silence felt suffocating but all you could focus on was his lips.

The two of you leaned in painstakingly slowly. Your nose brushed his and it tickled you, mouth curling into a slight smile. Eventually after what seemed to be ages, his lips grazed against yours. He didn’t push them to meet yours any further, just letting them skim past as if to tease you, or maybe just to be gentle, you didn’t know.

After that ghost of a kiss—if you could even call it that—you leaned back slightly, noses barely an inch away, and smiled at him softly as he returned the smile. You pushed forward, kissing him again but this time deeper and more controlling. James’s hand drew up to hold your jaw between his fingers. His lips were pleasant and velvety under yours, his touch gentle and caring.

Taking your sweet time, you pushed against him and he to you. His head tilted back a little as the kissing grew passionate and needy. Your lips slot together like a perfect puzzle. You bit his lip gingerly, prodding your tongue at the crease and sliding it across his lips, asking and waiting for access.

Without hesitation, his mouth curved open more and allowed for you to slide your tongue in. They danced together, roaming every inch of each other’s mouths as if searching for missing treasure. Before you knew it, you were throwing your leg across him and straddling his hips, holding him by his chest and pushing him further into the couch with your kisses. His hands fell to your waist, caressing the slope.

Every now and then you’d pull back to catch up on your rapid breathing. The tiredness you’d felt earlier was quick to disperse and allow for the adrenaline of the moment to kick in, leaving a buzzing feeling in your stomach, like butterflies.

Your temptation to grind down on his hips caved and when you did, his mouth parted and he drawled out a low, deep groan. His hands went from resting along your waist to grabbing down on your hips, helping you move against him. Warmth spread throughout and you couldn’t help but smile and continue pressing kisses to his lips.

He moved his head downwards, kissing along your jaw, then suckling on your neck. You gasped as his teeth plucked at the sensitive skin and tilted your head further upwards to grant him a larger canvas. Hips moving against his, your stomach fluttered in the best way possible.

His hands that held onto your hips tightened and held you in place, refraining you from moving any further. You frowned and pulled back from him with a whine. “What’s wrong?” You asked, breaking the silence that had encased the room long ago. James shook his head. “Nothing, nothing,” he assured you. “But we can’t do this right now, you’re drunk.” You smiled, then let out an airy scoff, “I’m barely tipsy, James.” You didn’t want anything other in this moment but him.

Still, you felt the fatigue come back and slowly got off him, sitting down beside him again. Begrudgingly for you, his decision was probably for the best so you just complied. You pressed a kiss to his nose then stood from the couch, making your way to his bed that rested behind the sofa.

“You need some clothes?” James asked, now also standing but making his way towards his drawers. “Yeah, please.” You pealed your dress down, slipping the navy straps from your shoulder as James threw a large shirt over to your direction. You threw it over your head, then slipped on the pair of shorts he gave to you. You crawled under the patterned covers of his bed. Your arms sprawled out above the covers as you waited for him.

Glancing in James’s direction, he still stood at his drawer. He was now wearing loose, green pajama pants. Unaware of your attention being on him, he lifted his shirt up, tugging it over his head and throwing it somewhere random, thinking he’d deal it with tomorrow. Breath hitching, stomach fluttering; you admired his slim but not so toned figure. You stared with no shame, as if it were your first time seeing his bare chest. Sadly for you, he tugged a grey shirt over his head, and you looked away as he approached the bed.

He climbed under the covers beside you and you felt his arm brush up against you. Turning on your side to face him, he was already facing you, seemingly staring at your face. The pale moonlight shone down from the window, illuminating one side of his face. God, he’s so kissable, you thought. Leaning forward in a sluggish, drowsy move, you pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. Moving one hand to rest under his head and cheek, your eyes were still shut when you placed another kiss on the corner of his lips.

Finally, your eyes opened to be met with his metallic ones looking back at you. In that moment you wished you could lay there forever, placing kisses along his angelic features. Had it not been the slight shine of the moonlight, you’d barely be able to make out his flushed cheeks in the dimness of the room.

James opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then continued. “You’re so beautiful; breathtaking.��� His cheek was still cradled against your palm and your fingers curved along it, caressing it gently. You smiled, a breathy laugh coming out along with it. “So are you,” you replied and kissed the tip of his nose.

He shuffled closer to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. A kiss was placed on the skin just behind your ear and you draped one arm across his shoulder, around his neck and let it lie behind his head. A warm but dainty hand crept up your waist, tugging you impossibly closer. And you both lay there, breaths mixing together in the darkness. It wasn’t long before your breathing evened out, and when James noticed that it did, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

[batsyforyou]

Random Pet Peeves: Feanorians Edition

Tags: Pet peeves (things that annoy people)

Pairings: None

Author's Note: I have Eonwe coming up as well as the pokémon one. Just thought to post this while I was at it.

Taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese

Curufin 

Fidgeting. He hates it, between the noise it can bring and the constant movement it drives him insane and causes him to lose focus. Like when you're on your last nerve and someone keeps making McDonald straw music insane. Like just stop already! 

Maedhros

Jokes about his height and comments about his missing hand. The 'How's the weather up there?’ jokes and the constant questions about his hand from those less informed drives him crazy. I mean honestly, how many times can you hear the same thing before it gets old? Now imagine being an elf with centuries of experience with these things. 

Celegorm 

Open mouth chewing. Most of the time Celegorm doesn’t care about anything anyone does but when it comes to eating and everyone is at the dinner table it's gross and noisy and he is sometimes convinced that their saliva food spatter somehow got in his food. Which he will promptly make a scene for and refuse to eat. 

Even worse is when he is feeling overwhelmed and stressed and chewing noises begin to drive him nuts like, oh my word, I’ve been there.  

Caranthir 

Mud and dirt tracked all over the floor. Especially if Celegorm is the one who couldn’t be bothered to take his shoes off before coming inside. 

Maglor 

When someone touches his stuff. Most of the time he can handle it with grace and be completely chill with finding his harp being moved into a different room. Because while it is annoying it isn’t world ending. So he’ll just roll his eyes, sigh and politely remind the culprit *coughs* Celegorm *Cough cough* to not move his things around. 

But if you really want to get his goat do what parents (and some absent minded friends) do best. 

When he goes to show you a journal with his music notes and ideas, flip into the area he didn’t show you. Like when you show someone a photo and they start SCROLLING THROUGH EVERYTHING. 

That will get him raging mad lol. 

Amrod and Amras

They both hate it when they get called by the other's name. And I don’t mean like when a stranger, like a servant, just makes a mistake (they are very understanding about this) I mean when they’ve known this person for literal years and they still can’t tell them apart. 

They also can’t stand it when family members confuse their hobbies with the other twins. While it isn’t big it doesn’t really feel good and can really upset them on days they aren’t doing well mentally. 

Celebrimbor 

When someone refers to his family as the monsters under the bed and uses them as scary ghost stories. Yeah, his family did kinda do it to themselves but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying. Especially when they get the details wrong like, “No, Maedhros didn’t have dark hair. His hair was red and curly.” Like if you're gonna try and scare people using real life people at least get the basics right. 

It also sucks because people will also turn him into a story character as well. Coming up with different assumptions and making weird rumors about him eating worms or something. It can be really bothersome and isolating. 

Besides all that he still loves his family and remembers them more as people with troubled pasts rather than monsters that hide under beds.

His Uncles and Atar are way too big to hide under beds anyway. 

Feanor

When someone questions his work and decisions. Not just once out of curiosity but over and over again. It grates on his sanity. 

Nerdanel

When someone talks about her children and husband leaving and doing all those horrible things. Like honestly can’t they have some class and not shove it in her face? Or even when someone asks her how she didn’t see Feanor’s behavior change or why she didn’t try to stop him sooner or the classic, “What did you ever see in that elf?” 

She loves her family very much and hates when people act all snotty about things.

masterlist

[the-one-who-lambs]

9 people you would like to get to know better tag meme

except I'm starting a new post because the one I got tagged in was long as shit. I was tagged by @tacofuus, thanks so much!

Last song: Batter Up by Babymonster. It's a solid 6.5/10 check out

Favorite color: violet/lavender. Really any shade of purple

Last tv show/currently watching: I honestly don't really watch TV. I genuinely cannot remember. The last series I actually watched was Death Note with my best friend and that was last year/beginning of this year. I used to be into anime when I was in middle school and this felt like a return to my roots lmao

Sweet/spicy/savoury: I go with savory most of the time, but my favorite is sweet for sure.

Relationship status: narilamb

Current obsession: Writing fanfic for cult of the lamb. It's been just about a year and a half now and I don't see this dying down anytime soon, cotl has squarely entered full special interest status for me so I'll be here for at least another 3 years. I have a bad habit of making a new fandom blog every time I get a shorter-term hyperfixation, writing for it, getting kindasorta recognized in the fandom, then abandoning my works and deleting the blog when I'm not interested in it anymore. Maybe some of y'all followed me in my previous fandoms and y'all would probably never know bc of orphaned works that I can't find anymore. ...anyway. I've made too many close friends in this fandom to pull that stunt again. the-one-who-lambs and my cotl fics are here to stay. I'm rambling

Last thing you googled: 600 cc in cups (I was making soup but all the good noodle packets from China+Korea give units in cubic centimeters. It's about 2.5 cups btw)

Uhhhhh I don't know who to tag so I'll just pick the most recent 9 mutuals in my notes who haven't been tagged already by taco or the people they tagged lol. Don't feel pressured to do it, though! @artsycryptix @just-a-random-demon-official @miallurk @pikos-den @tokyonymph @mianing @bamsara @coffincrows @fanged-cotl

[heartfullofleeches]

Player yan and yan arranged marriage spouse seems interesting. What's their story? What's their deal? How crazy or sane are we talking about here?

Player Yan + Buff Childhood friend reader + Yan Spouse

Player Yan had a best friend once upon a time. Tiny - even for their age and sweet as can be. Back when they had a heart, they were head over heels for this friend and protected them from everything. Said friend eventually moves away and they're left heartbroken. They try to keep tabs over the years, but their parents get involved and warn them to stop chasing what never could be. Out of retaliation and grief at the lost of their only love, they waste all of mommy and daddy's money on partying and people to ease the pain. This entire time they were already promised to someone who they've never formally met. Two seconds alone with that person made them want to splatter their brains over a wall. They finally meet as their spouse moves back to their city after finishing college - bringing their bodyguard along with them.

"Hm?... Oh, hey - it's you! I've missed you like crazy."

What? Have you slept together before or something? Talking about awkward.

"You mean you don't remember me? You're wearing our bracelet right now. It's me - Y/n. They may be my boss, but I'll protect you too!

Y/n. They didn't recognize you looking like... that. After you moved away, you still got picked on for your height and without them to protect you it was all on you to defend yourself. A late growth helped too. As soon as you tell them that they're scouring your year books for ever bully you've ever had, but they've already gone missing or had their lives destroyed. You met their spouse in college and walked them back to their dorm one night after they had been tailed home after a party. They admired your puppy dog vibes and couldn't stop thinking about you days after. Early on in your friendship, you made vague comments about being strapped for cash and they offered to pay you to be their bodyguard. You joked about it being silly to pay for something you already were and they were in love.

You move in with both of them as it's the only way to keep them from butting heads constantly.v They shower you in gifts and hire random people so you can play hero and show off those muscles you worked so hard to gain.

Childhood Reader: Thanks for the new shirt, boss! Must've grown a few sizes since it's a little small on me, but I'll wear anything you give me once to show how much I appreciate it.

Player Yan: No problem. As always - there's more where that came from.

Yan Spouse: Fucking Pervert.

Player Yan: motherfucker - we both know those shorts you ordered aren't in your size

Yan Spouse: .... Fuck you.

-

Player Yan, holding a knife to their spouses neck: I'm sick and tired off you getting in my way. They were mine first and they're still mine. I doubt even your parents would care if I slit your throat if I put the right price tag.

Yan Spouse: You are such a fucking child. You think killing me will make them love you? You're too pussy to do it anyway.

[As player Yan raises their blade, you walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel]

You: Hey boss... I think I might've used up all the hot water..... what's going on?

Yan Spouse and Player Yan, brains short-circuiting: Foreplay

[convoy-system]

Addressing the "Micahverse"

This has gotten insanely out of hand. I'm making one big post and then I'm going back to being a normal sysblr blog. I'm just an 18yo guy whose still fresh out of my abuse environment, I'm not some evil mastermind plotting against sysblr. When I say I just want to exist, I mean that.

From my perspective, this all started with me answering 2 asks on this blog.

(Edit: To make my blog timeline clear, I ran dissociative-misinfo and snowchester at the same time last year from Sept-Nov I believe. I made my apology for those blogs in December on micah-nicholas, and by then I was pro-endo privately. I deactivated micah-nicholas shortly after posting the apology because I felt uncomfortable being on sysblr at that point. A while later, I created my current main blog @obviously-im-a-boyo and I ran reveromantics and zain-syscourse as sideblogs. I deleted reveromantics and zain-syscourse after the Dia situation, and that's around when I made this blog. I ran other non-system sideblogs here and there, but currently my only system blog is this one.)

The first ask was an anon that just said "misogynist." I found this funny because it was random as hell, so I screenshotted it and showed it to my One Direction discord server, they made some funny commentary, and I answered the ask with that commentary. A user who claims they weren't the anon started a comment chain accusing me of being misogynistic and transmisogynistic, and when I asked them to show evidence, they refused. I have no idea who this blog is, apparantly they were in my old server when I was dissociative-misinfo, but I have no further info on them.

The second ask was from ratinacoat, a former friend of mine who I stopped associating with after I deleted dissociative-misinfo and stopped being anti-endo. Some timeline info- after I deleted dissociative-misinfo, I took a short break from sysblr as a whole, before I came back anonymously as two sideblogs zain-syscourse and reveromantics. These blogs were pro-endo. I deleted those blogs recently after the Dia situation in which I was blamed for Dia's public mental breakdown and subsequent IRL hospitalization. More on that in a bit because it could be it's own fucking post.

Rat's ask was asking if my recent pro-endo blogs were bait like Snowchester had been. Snowchester was the bait blog I ran cocurrently with dissociative-misinfo. I've apologized for both of those blogs back in December. I was going to ignore Rat's ask because I was ignoring a lot of anon hate already, but I was worried Rat might try to make a post claiming zain-syscourse and reveromantics were bait blogs, so I answered the ask to clear the air. I clarified that no, those blogs were not bait, I've just been changing and going through some questioning about my system. I also clarified that I'm pro-endo and have been for a while now.

Me answering those two asks, the anon and rat's, seem to have opened the absolute hellish floodgates upon me. This is where the micahverse begins, from my perspective. I know multiple of the people who posted about me are in a discord server that discusses me, but I don't know if this was a planned or coordinated effort, or just likeminded people all deciding to jump my ass at the same time.

At first I just noticed the anons I was getting directly, and the direct reblogs to my posts. What was being brought up at this point was all just dissociative-misinfo drama, shit I've already made an apology for and wanted to move forward from. I made a post on this blog clarifying that if you dislike me, please just block me instead of sending/tagging me in hate, or posting about me. Just block me.

Then I found out about the micahverse tag. Validity-system started it, with their long post listing accusations at me. I'll quickfire this.

Yes, I do remember deleting my discord server I ran when I was dissociative-misinfo. Yes, I know I deleted it because I got triggered during an argument about the semantics of the term functional multiplicity. Yes, I know that was stupid. I don't agree with my opinions at that time anymore, they stemmed from me being staunchly anti-endo, and I'm not anti-endo anymore. I also don't care to police other systems or their terms anymore. I've moved past this.

I know I had trouble stepping away from arguments. I know in hindsight that I wasn't equipped to be running that kind of server that's so volatile and built on syscourse. That's why I don't run a syscourse-y server anymore. I mean, I run a One Direction fan server, but all we do there is talk about boybanders and music so I'm not putting myself in a compromising position there.

Yeah, when I triggered myself into a severe derealization episode, I probably did claim I was being ganged up on. I was triggered and in an episode. I know that was fucked up, and it was a messy fallout, but again I've accepted that I no longer have the priviledge of friendship with the people I hurt by deleting the server and blowing up on everyone. I made my apology post for the things that happened on tumblr, and I sent out private apologies on discord to the old server members. This was all months ago.

I have vague memories of the conversation about men and women and dogs. I don't remember the full context of why I brought up my distrust of women, but that's one of my personal trauma triggers. Women who remind me of my abuser (my mother) tend to set off alarm bells in my head. It's not their fault of course, but I guess I wasn't clear about this being a personal trauma thing for me. As for the dog thing, actually fuck off. You misrepresented what I said on purpose. I know for a fact that the only time I've ever mentioned that I would "kick a dog if it got too close to me" is in context of self-defense. I live in a city full of stray dogs, MANY of which are violent. I've been chased by dogs dozens of times in the year I've lived here, and I've mentally prepared myself to potentially have to kick or fight a stray dog if I ever got properly attacked. I would never hurt a dog just because, it's a hypothetical self-defense tactic I've planned for but never had to employ. I've never kicked a dog, is the short version of all that.

Dragging the Wilbur Soot allegations of all things into this is fucking random but fine, I'll address it. I believe in innocent until proven guilty, and Wilbur Soot hasn't been formally charged with any crimes. I'm skeptical of both him and Shubble's claims, and I could get into why, but it really doesn't matter. At the end of the day, they're both massive youtubers and my opinion on their public feud doesn't hold any real weight.

Yeah, on dis-misinfo I did act like an authority on DID. That was shitty, I've already gone into that in my big apology post.

Yeah, again, I do remember telling Prose they weren't real. I was in a severe derealization episode when they dmed me. I apologized to Prose privately, but as I'll get into later in the post, Prose decided to reopen this shit again too.

Yep again my original apology post in DECEMBER addressed Snowchester and the disagreement that ended the server and dis-misinfo.

Addressing Okami. I don't like Okami very much, and I didn't even when I was running my server with her as my co-mod. When I'd started talking about starting a server, she wanted to help, and I was already feeling pressured to stay friends with her because we were common enemies with another server. I felt pressured to let her co-mod even though I didn't trust her, because I didn't want her to accuse me of discriminating against her for her personality disorders like she'd accused another server of doing when she got banned for blowing up at their mods. Okami said multiple questionable things during my dis-misinfo server run, and I never fully agreed or sided with her in my mind. I felt pressured to side with her because she was my co-mod and all this built-up pressure already existed in our dynamic, but I really tried to convey to the other server members that I don't like Okami. I even spoke in VC a few times about wanting to ban or unmod her, but not knowing how to go about it without her reacting negatively. So I was stuck in this limbo with her. By the time my dis-misinfo apology post came out, I don't think I was speaking to any of the server members anymore, including Okami. I don't currently associate with Okami.

Again with the bait blog. I've already addressed this publically in my apology post. Most of these points validity-system has brought up are old drama from dis-misinfo, and it's mainly things I've already publically held myself accountable for via my apology post, or things that happened within the server or dms that I apologized for in private. The main thing that I never addressed was Okami, because I was in a pressuring dynamic with her at the time, and after I stopped associating with the other server members, I blocked Okami out of my mind entirely. I'd actually completely forgotten about her until validity-system said her name.

Summary of this section: So far there's no good reason for why these posts are being made. It's dis-misinfo shit that I've already addressed in December and made it clear I wanted to move forward from. My beliefs and opinions have entirely changed since then, and I've made a public apology that addressed everything the public was present for. There's not much else in that regard to 'hold me accountable' for when I already held myself accountable in December.

I made a post asking validity-system in particular to leave me alone. Some other blogs started noticing what was going on and I got some kind asks from people I respect a lot, which was immensely helpful for my mental state. The flood of posts about me was overwhelming and I couldn't begin to try addressing them when I felt like I was being suddenly attacked on all angles. I also made a post asking anyone with concerns to message me privately, because I didn't want to encourage the micahverse posting by continuing to publically acknowledge it on this blog.

Then I saw rat's list of gripes, which included some outright lies and VERY serious accusations. I made a post addressing it because I was terrified people would see his post and run with it, despite the fact he didn't include any evidence for any of his claims. And yes, I know, the old server is deleted so you all can't get screenshots. But you still can't make accusations this serious without evidence. That's fucked up. ESPECIALLY when they're false. Rat reblogged my post combatting the accusations, but it didn't say anything substantial backing his side. All of that is visible in the link at the top of this paragraph, I won't rehash what I already said in that post.

So, like, to recap. I ran a shitty anti-endo blog, a bait blog, and a server a few months ago. I deleted all of them after a semantics argument got wildly out of hand and I was in the middle of a severe episode. I came back in December, apologizing for all of that mess. Now, the micahverse tag starts with multiple people (mainly ratinacoat and validity-system) bringing up dissociative-misinfo shit I've already addressed and apologized for, and generally being assholes towards me. It quickly spirals into rat straight-up lying about me. It gets worse.

I go to sleep. I wake up to some supportive posts from other syscourse blogs, and a few new kind asks. That was really nice, and again really helped me feel better about the situation. It didn't feel as much like the whole world was against me, at least.

The micahverse's newest argument was people claiming that I 'flip-flop' and change my syscourse stances constantly for attention. A lot of posters were assuming I'm a snake whose out for attention. Particularly, syscoursers were honing in on my change from anti to pro endo. Key note here, I've changed my endocourse stance TWICE. Ever. In all 3 years I've known I'm a system, my endocourse stance has changed twice. I started out as pro-endo in 2021, I became anti-endo in 2022, and I became pro-endo again sometime around December 2024. So, honestly, this whole bit of the micahverse is fucking stupid. People saw "micah changes his stances a lot!" and ran with it, despite not knowing how often my stances my changed or WHY they changed, and it ballooned into some people genuinely thinking I'm flip flopping every other day when I'm really not.

Brief interlude to mention that at some point during all this, I was spam @ in posts saying "hawk tuah" and tagged micahverse. Real mature, guys. Way to handle what you consider a serious situation seriously. Anyway.

Prose's first post. I already have a headache, but onwards I type. I'm not keen on reiterating how unproductive and pointless it is to bring up dis-misinfo gripes again, so I'll be addressing bits and pieces of this and jumping around.

Prose mentions that they mistakenly saw me as an older diagnosed person actively in treatment. I am none of those things and I never claimed to be. Me and Prose actually discussed this privately, MONTHS AGO, where I explained that I had no idea they saw me in such an incorrect light and I couldn't have possibly known that until they told me. I never lied about my age, diagnosis status, or treatment status. Prose made assumptions about me and blamed me when those assumptions weren't accurate.

The trans discourse bit. Oh my god stab me at this point. This is exhausting. Some of the shit being yapped about in trans discourse right now IS very oppression olympics when it comes to which trans people are "the most" oppressed. It's not a competition, we're all crossdressing groomers under the eyes of the law and state. Also the discussion Prose is referencing I believe was about the slur tranny. There were people arguing that only transfeminine people can say it? And not transmasculine people? Stupid ass discourse, I'm a trans person, I can say tranny when referring to my damn self.

Prose claims I pass very well. Uhm. Where the hell did you get that idea, lmao? I don't pass very well. I look fairly boyish, but despite my best efforts I am consistantly gendered and seen as female by everyone in real life who isn't one of my friends aware of my gender identity. But sure, go off I guess. I also never claimed that my oppression is because I "pass as a man and women are scared of men." I'm oppressed because I'm visibly queer and seen as female, so I experience misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia. I'm not seen as a man, I'm seen as a faggy woman who wants to be a boy.

Prose talks about how they also ran a bait blog that interacted with Snowchester, but they deleted it after a few days because it made them feel icky. That's valid. However it doesn't hold relevance to me? The way they phrase it is acting as though I forced them to make a bait blog. That was never the case. In the server, the channel where we talked about the bait blogs was locked behind an opt in role, specifically so people uncomfy with the concept didn't have to see or participate. Prose chose to participate and regretted it, and that's fine. But it's not my fault that they chose to participate?? They said they felt like making a bait blog would gain my approval, but I didn't even know Prose was vying for my approval until AFTER this all blew up and I discussed things with them privately. They were silently treating me like some sort of appraised figure that I never claimed to be, and then got mad at me for not reading their mind and knowing how they personally viewed me.

The "stalking and spam liking" was me making a new blog the day after deleting dis-misinfo and friending some of the server members back because I didn't think the big deletion was a big deal and I was lowkey still episodic, so I thought it was perfectly rational for me to follow everyone back and like a few of their posts. Like, the SAME day I think, I got a dm from one of the server members saying I was making everyone uncomfortable with the likes and follows, so I stopped. The "stalking" was one day of interacting with people I, at that moment, still believed I was friends with.

After I came back as publically pro endo, I believe on micah-nicholas (so post-apology), Prose made a vaguepost warning the endogenic community of people whose endocourse stance changed quickly and radically. It was about me, and I sent them a single dm asking if it was about me. They never replied, and I never dmed them again.

And now, zain-syscourse. I wasn't intentionally interacting with people like rat and august because of my prior association to them, I was just in the syscourse tag and so were they. My alter Zain interacted with like, everyone in the syscourse tag, because he was running a syscourse blog. He was putting aside our histories and interacting without prior bias, just from a pro endo viewpoint. All of my interactions with Prose's friend group after my apology post were a result of those people being active syscoursers at the same time as I was, not out of targetted malice or stalking.

"It made me feel like my privacy was being invaded" for... for me to interact with public syscourse posts YOU weren't even making? I haven't interacted with Prose since my single dm back on micah-nicholas where I asked if their vaguepost was about me, and I find out now that it WAS about me. I genuinely don't understand what you mean with this one.

I don't want to be your friend. I have no intentions of befriending any of the people I used to be in that deleted server with. We are on opposite sides of syscourse stances, and I have SO many gripes with all of you after this entire micahverse situation that would prevent us from being friends again.

Prose made two more longposts about me after this, mostly just ranting about how they can't trust me and are paranoid about me "stalking" them. In the past like 2 months since we stopped being friends, I've only ever interacted with Prose when they made a vaguepost about me. So they quite literally talked about me, and got mad that I addressed the fact they're talking about me. That's not stalking, that's a response to shit that's very clearly about me. If you don't want me to talk to you anymore, stop posting about me. I literally don't care about you one way or another outside of your posts discussing me.

ANYWAY. I said I'd briefly mention the Dia situation. Dia or solxxrsys had a public manic episode/mental breakdown in the syscourse tags, posted a death threat, self-harm baited directly on my blog, and sui-baited before deactivating. I was on zain-syscourse at this point, and I was responding to Dia's posts in a fairly calm manner up until Dia started self-harm baiting at me and that triggered me. Still, I didn't say anything much ruder than calling Dia an asshole. After Dia deactivated, it was found out that Dia got hospitalized, and I was immediately blamed. People were acting like I drove Dia to suicide with my posts, which honest to god weren't saying anything particularly mean.

Interlude over, back to the micahverse. Chips-in-a-bag fakeclaimed me. This is the longest fucking tumblr post ever but there's a lot to address and I don't want to make any more fucking posts after this if I don't ABSOLUTELY have to. So, chips in a bag. I already actually responded in the comments, but I'll add screenshots of my comment in this post in case they get deleted later, to be safe. This was just. rude. to be honest. Like, why?

FINALLY the conclusion: This was all fucking stupid and a thinly veiled excuse to bully and harass me. The majority of the complaints are for things I said and did when I was dissociative-misinfo, which I've already made a comprehensive apology for 2 months ago, as well as the private apologies I sent out at the time. The few things mentioned that weren't already handled in December, I have now addressed, like Okami. After bringing up dead dis-misinfo gripes got old, people like ratinacoat started fucking lying about me and accusing me of serious crimes like animal abuse with zero evidence or reasoning. That's when i started really getting pissed, because what the hell? And now, I get my systemhood questioned on top of all of that, coz like why the fuck not.

If the goal was holding me accountable for my fuck-ups, you didn't do that. There was nothing left to do. I held MYSELF accountable 2 months ago when I made my big public apology post and outed all of the shitty opinions and behaviors I no longer stand behind. In the past 2 months, I've CHANGED. I'm pro endo, I don't police other systems anymore, I don't post to syscringe and I don't condone bait blogs. All the behaviors you have issues with are behaviors I DON'T DO ANYMORE AND HAVE ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR BOTH PUBLICALLY AND PRIVATELY. So, this has all ended up just being a micah hate train and an excuse for extreme anti endos to clown on me.

It was honestly clear what this was from the first time I saw #micahverse. Turning my name, not even my username but my actual name, into a "universe" tag and treating me like a character you're all discoursing on. I'm a person, man. I'm not a syscourse topic, I'm an 18 year old with multiple severe mental disorders whose trying to move forward from my mistakes and grow. Whose just trying to exist on sysblr and post about my personal system stuff and whatnot. I'm not bothering anybody, I don't even syscourse anymore. What else do you guys want from me?

Genuinely. What more do you guys want. I've apologized and changed, you're trying to hold me accountable for shit I don't do or support anymore, shit I've already publically acknowledged I don't do or support anymore. Anything else brought up I've now addressed in this long ass post. Can it be over now? Can I be left alone now? Can I just exist on tumblr now? Or is nothing enough?

Signed, Micah.

[an0nymousmessenger]

For I'll Keep Every Promise

Synopsis: He wakes up. Word Count: 2.4k tags. fluff, angst, happy ending Sequel to 'A Thousand Wishes Unheard' note: I was going to post this later but I think you guys need it. Ao3 Link

Darkness. That was all he could see. He felt nothing– as if he was floating in a neverending void.

He was dead.

He had to be. He remembers the bitter taste of blood coating his mouth– the way he struggled and choked on the very thing that ran through his skin. He recalls the loud ringing in his ear, growing ever louder as his vision faded out.

Well, he supposed he tried his best. Really. He gave it his all.

It just wasn’t enough.

What remained of his heart ached. He supposed he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to you. He hopes you won’t blame him…he had held on till the very end.

Death wasn’t so bad. Before he went he was able to see his students, laughing and smiling, he even got to hold you close before he had left. Not to mention he even saw his friends again, and he had gotten to say goodbye. 

He had no regrets.

Well…he supposes there is still one that lodges itself in the back of his mind.

It was you.

He had never gotten the chance to…

“Satoru,”

He turned his head to look at you, who was savoring your lollipop as you leaned back on the balcony.

Lemon flavored. The very sour kind.

He had a snide suspicion that it was to keep him away from stealing it…

“Satoruu~” you repeated, drawing his attention again.

“Hm?”

You flash him a smile, the kind of smile that lets him know that you are about to either stir up trouble or say something random.

It was the latter.

“What do you want to do when you're older?”

He snorts, “What kind of question is that? Of course– a sorcerer.” He wanted to add ‘what else?’ but decided it was obvious enough. Adding the last part would also ruin his good mood. His path has already been pre-designed and pre-routed for him. He has no other choice.

“No, what I mean is if all this didn’t exist.”

“Aw~ are you saying you would rather not have met me?” He sings out in a fake-pained voice, knowing that it was not what you meant.

You roll your eyes, having been used to his antics for a few years now, “Perhaps,” you say with a playful smile, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be better off.”

“Nah, I doubt it.”

You sigh before turning to face him. You widen your eyes when you notice he is already looking at you, but quickly move on, but Satoru doesn’t let the red creeping up on the tip of your ears go unnoticed. “I’m saying if you didn’t have cursed energy and stuff…like normal people, you know?”

He wanted to laugh and point out that it sounded like you were indicating that people like you and him were the odd ones, but he decided to let it slide.

“I dunno, maybe I’ll start a singing career, something like that.”

“Pfft, so what? That you’ll get even more admirers and fans?”

“Exactly! What? Don’t you agree? My face is pleasant to look at.”

Scoffing, you say, “One of these days I’ll make sure to crush that ego of yours.”

He rolls his eyes before looking back out at the school grounds, watching the sun slowly set behind the forest of trees. Although he had said the first thing that came from the top of his mind, he supposed singing wouldn’t be that far reached. 

After all, he excelled at everything. 

"How about you?" he asks. "Do you have something in mind already?" 

Observing the setting sun, you reply, "Mhm, yeah. Something like that." 

"Really?" He sounds surprised, not realizing how seriously you were considering it. "What is it?" 

Hesitating, you eventually respond, "It's... nothing." 

His interest is immediately piqued. 

"Come on! What's your idea? Share it with me!" He playfully pesters you with a grin. 

"No!" 

"You can't tease me like that! I told you mine, didn't I?" He whines a bit more before eventually coaxing it out of you.

It was when he saw you sigh, watching as the tension left your shoulders that he knew he won.

“Fine, I’ll tell you then. But you can’t tell anyone else– okay?”

He makes a gesture of zipping his mouth and throwing the zipper away, his curiosity increasing. It always does when it comes to you.

“I want to be…” you wait a bit, as if for dramatic effect, “...an author.”

You turn to look at him after a moment’s silence before breaking out in laughter.

“Haha- what’s up with your face? Surprised?”

Indeed he was a bit surprised. An author? He had no clue. When it comes to you it seemed as if he's only ever scratched the surface. It made him want to know more, want to ask more.

He never does.

"An author," he echoes thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

He wanted to ask why, but you had already started talking.

“An author. I guess it’s because I want to write stories, I grew up reading them you know? Made me feel safe.”

A hint of melancholy graces your smile as your thoughts drift elsewhere; it's a different kind of smile than the one before–a sadder smile.

"Who knows? I'm sure being a sorcerer has provided ample material for incredible stories. I'll be entirely unique. Maybe I'll even include tales about overcoming curses and how people like us save the day."

"Why not add in a ridiculously handsome guy who defeats all the curses with seamless ease too? Make sure 'remarkably attractive' is emphasized."

Laughing, you playfully smack his arm. "Okay, Satoru. I'll consider it."

He couldn’t help but break out into an amused smile. What an odd dream, he thought. Though he supposed he wasn’t against it.

Satoru Gojo excelled at everything, yet nothing he achieved seemed to measure up to you.

He felt his mind start to drift and fade away, threatening to join the other souls in their lost journey home. Wait…he called out. He didn’t want to go just yet. He wanted more time, more time to replay his memories, to live in them just for a second longer.

“Satoru,”

He could hear your voice, calling him in that familiar and recognizable way that was only special to you.

“Satoru.”

He wished he could’ve told you how much he loved hearing you say his name, it rolls off your tongue so nicely. He was never one to care about names, it never mattered to someone like him. 

All he needed was Gojo – a name denoting his status, lineage, and power. His first name barely held any weight compared to his clan's. No one needed to know who Satoru was, no one ever did…so he couldn’t have cared less for his name- and yet you somehow made him love his name– only when you say it does it sound special– like it’s his name like he is someone.

Someone other than the honored one. Someone other than the strongest.

“Satoru!”

There were a lot of things he never got to tell you, another thing to add to his regrets. If only he had been brave enough…if only he had picked up his courage and told you everything.

“Satoru- please!”

He paused. Ah- what is that feeling? He could feel something wet fall onto his face. Was it raining? How could that be? How could he feel if he was dead?

And yet that warmth around his face only made him more confused. He could feel as if someone was holding them, cupping his face carefully as if he could break.

"Please wake up… Satoru, I beg you…"

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

The first thing he saw when his vision came back into focus was your face. Your crying face looking down at him with your hands cupping his face.

Then he looked around, realizing that the battlefield on which he had been sliced in half was gone. He was in a room, a hospital room.

He looked down and saw the rest of his body, no longer split into two. Had Shoko done this?

“Satoru!”

He returned his gaze to you. You were smiling, smiling, and crying.

Questions, so many questions flooded through him at that moment, but he decided that he could ask those later. Right now was more important, right now felt like it was all happening inside a dream.

“Hey…crybaby, seems like you you missed me?” He teased with a small grin.

You gave him a look through your tear-soaked face as if you couldn’t even believe what he was saying.

“Y-You! You bastard! You annoying– infuriating- stupid dumbass!”

“Aw, come on…” he drags, “You don’t mean those…do you hm?” Although the tone in his voice is light– playful even as if he hadn’t just returned from death, as if all he wanted right now was to live this moment to the fullest, he was dearly wishing this– whatever this was– to last a little longer.

He slowly brings his trembling arm to hold onto yours, he wanted to hold on to you tight, as if everything he was seeing was about to break, to fall apart for him to realize it was all a dream.

He waited for you to disappear, to return to the part of his imagination that was playing tricks on him.

Instead, you move sideways to hug him, crying onto his shoulders.

"No...no, I don't," you managed through choked sobs.

He hummed softly, "I guess I kept my promise after all, huh?"

You nod into his shoulder, still holding him tightly.

You and him fall into a comfortable silence, he lets you cry on his shoulders just as how you let him hold onto you. 

Several minutes passed before you pulled away, sniffling and attempting to compose yourself while wiping away tears with your sleeve.

Satoru wanted to reach out and wipe them for you, but his newly healed injuries did not allow him to, moving his hand had already been hard.

It went on like that for a while; you sniffling and crying as Satoru stared at you quietly, taking everything about you in as if this was the last time he was going to see you, just the same way he did on that night underneath the torii gate, using his eyes to try to imprint every detail, everything, every aspect of you into his memory.

That night felt like a lifetime away.

He was the first to break the silence, “Where are the others?”

By now you had calmed down, and were able to answer in a coherent way, “Recovering…everyone is- they’re fine.”

Fine. Not good, but fine.

He’ll take it for now.

“We managed to win and…” you give him a look, “you know…the students declared their victory for you,” You say with a smile.

His students. They managed to do it, just as he thought they could. He sighed contently.

You then spend the next half hour going over exactly what had happened after he had passed out, how Kashimo had come out right after him, and how eventually the rest of the students joined in.

In the end, they had managed to pull through, but it wasn’t over. Sukuna had been dealt with, Megumi’s condition was unknown, and Kenjaku was nowhere to be found.

Shoko had indeed been the one to heal him. Immediately after the battle they were able to recover his body and managed to heal him back together just in time.

“We- we almost- I didn’t know if we made it in time or not…” You say, choking up again. He could see the tears you were desperately trying to hold back, to look brave in front of him, trying to break through.

“Hey, I’m right here, aren’t I?” He beckons you to come closer.

He eventually holds you in his arms, drawing slow circles on your back, as he knows it calms you, “Shhh, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere else.”

You mutter, “Better not,” which causes him to laugh.

He wanted to let this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, just you and him.

“This…this is real– right?” He says quietly, and in such a small voice he doubted you had heard him.

You raise your head to look at him, the soft kind of smile he’s always known playing on your face, “Yes, Satoru. This is real, as real as it can be.”

He can feel himself start to tear up, because if he had to be honest- he was scared too, he was terrified, but he had no choice. He had to play his role, his role as the strongest.

But now he could just be Satoru, just him holding onto you, keeping you close. 

“Then I’m glad.”

Bonus:

“Gojo Sensei!” Yuji, the always energetic kid exclaimed as he ran into the room, followed by You, Maki, Yuta, Nobara, Panda, Inanumaki, Shoko, and everyone else.

They all had recovered for the most part and seemed to be relatively okay. They all wore relieved expressions as they entered the room to see that their Sensei was alright.

Yuji was the first to arrive at his Sensei’s bedside.

“Hey, kid!” Gojo Sensei waved. He had recovered enough to prop himself up and do basic movements, which to Shoko had been a miracle itself.

Yuji then began launching himself into the things that had happened while Gojo had been recovering, and Gojo returned the energy. Everyone got their turn, talking until visiting times were over and they had to be ushered out.

You were the last to leave. Just before you turned the doorknob Satoru called after you, “Hey- wait.”

You turn around, waiting for what he wants to say.

“When- uh when this is all over and when you have some free time, let me take you out, yeah?”

You barely ever heard Satoru Gojo stumble over his words, and when he did you know it was because he was nervous, and everyone knows Satoru Gojo is never nervous, yet that always seemed to be the exception when it comes to you.

You found it cute, the way he would try to seem aloof as the back of his neck became a beautiful shade of bright red.

“Yeah, but let’s save that for when you recover.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be up and ready by next week,” he says as if it were a fact, his blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter.

You sigh, even after coming back on the brink of death he still acts like a child, but you smile nonetheless, “Next week it is then.”

[moonyasnow]

Ok I'm making a change to Veronica's backstory

You know her teacher Miss Averesch? The human teacher who taught her how to control her temper better (at least with her friends) and was the closest thing she ever had to a mother(that she can remember)?

I've decided that instead of just leaving, Miss Averesch was killed by someone. Specifically in a hate-crime against humans in Briar Valley.

And some other students (whom she'd been friends with and was on good terms with) ended up also being killed, for being witnesses.

Veronica wasn't there because she was away running an errand for Miss Averesch.

Here's the new version:

Miss Averesch actually taught a class for students where no magic teaching was involved. It was meant for magicless students like Veronica (of which there were very few) or other students who had good enough grades to get into the school, but not the magical aptitude recquired. A 'general studies' class, basically.

Though one day at the age of 13 in the middle of a lesson, a man living nearby who was very against a human teaching at one of the best school's in Briar Valley, holding a great grudge due to having lost people dear to him at the hands of humans, snuck into the school to kill Averesch. And as the rest of her class was there...well, he wanted no witnesses.

At the time, Veronica was in the city, getting a few materials Miss Averesch had asked someone to buy. And being her little helper, Veronica volunteered.

When she came back to the school, the building her class was supposed to be in was dead quiet. No one answered when she called out that she was back and apologized for taking so long— she got a little distracted looking at some pretty fabric. Then when she went towards the classroom, the door was open, which was unusual, since Miss Averesch liked to always keep it closed during lessons.

When she went closer and saw a drop of dark red on the floor, the panic set in.

She was afraid to go into the classroom.

But she did anyway.

The scream she let out alerted nearby authorities.

She developed a lot of survivor's guilt after this incident, since she was the only one who survived. She also feels guilty about not being able to do anything, and feels like it's her fault for not being there, that she might have been able to prevent their deaths. She was the only one among them who had any experience with a weapon, and she'd even said that she'd try to protect the others if it was ever necessary, but she couldn't do anything.

She often asks herself what would have happened if she hadn't volunteered to go purchase those supplies, or if she'd gotten back just a little bit earlier.

And all other teachers at the school, including the new teacher of her class, looking down at her for being a magicless half-fae, Veronica knowing they thought she would never be anywhere near as good as the other students at said school, meant that now more than ever, she had something to prove.

This was actually the original version of her backstory— I just changed it because I thought it might be too edgy. But I've realized that, her once again failing to protect people she cared about and had even promised she'd protect, and how it impacted her ability to trust people, how it added to her protective side, and gave her survivor's guilt, is a vital part of her backstory.

She's just not the same without it.

So uh yeah!

I'm changing her backstory! And I'm gonna update Veronica's Showcase post to include that

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